Maybe it’s starting to look a little grimy.
That thought crossed his mind as he chomped down on plump shrimp meatballs and slurped up the mild tomato stew.
Maybe he’d dragged it around on the ground too much. Might be time for a wash soon. Though, it didn’t feel like he’d had it with him for that many days.
After finishing his meal, he gave the stuffed toy a gentle tap with his front paw. Every time he pressed down, it would sink in slightly and bounce right back into shape—it was oddly cute. The texture was pretty satisfying too.
But Ries’s gaze was already drifting—sliding sneakily back toward Justyn. More precisely, toward the food Justyn was eating.
That familiar craving began to bubble up.
I want something spicy.
Or at least something salty. Even something sweet would do. If he could just line up dishes that were spicy, salty, and sweet, and rotate through them one after the other…
Churp. He nearly drooled.
So much for human desires being endless. He’d acted like the world was his oyster just getting off raw cat food, and now here he was, already craving more exciting flavors.
“Ries?”
Busted.
Ries’s tail snapped upright. He must’ve been staring too intently. He quickly whipped his head around, pretending not to notice, though his eyes kept sneaking glances at Justyn.
“…Hmm.”
Justyn seemed lost in thought for a moment. His crimson eyes flicked between the food on the table and Ries’s completely empty bowl.
Then he tapped the table with his fingers. Like he was inviting him up.
Caught off guard, Ries hopped up onto the table. This time, Justyn scooped a small portion of food into a little dish and slid it toward him. The message couldn’t have been clearer—go ahead, try it.
“…Mya?”
“It’s fine. Go on.”
As Ries hesitated, Justyn gave him a gentle nudge. Entranced, Ries lowered his head toward the dish.
What happened next was all too predictable. He devoured everything Justyn served him, one bite after another, and eventually collapsed on the table with his belly bulging, completely stuffed.
Then Ketir walked in to clear the dishes—and froze when he saw the scene.
“…Did you just feed Ries your meal, Your Grace?”
“Yeah. Is that a problem?”
“……”
Ketir looked like he didn’t even know where to begin. The way he pinched his brow made him look especially worn out.
“We confirmed he can eat human food without issue, yes, but I heard you’ve been lightly seasoning things just to be safe. What if something happens…”
“It’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry.”
Justyn’s response was firm, dismissing Ketir’s string of concerns with ease. Ketir’s eyes narrowed, like he was dying to crack open Justyn’s head and see what was inside.
“…Haa. Very well. If that’s what Your Grace says, then I suppose it must be.”
But he quickly composed himself. A reaction that felt all too familiar.
Ketir often had this let the chips fall where they may attitude whenever it came to things involving Ries. In simpler terms: he’d given up.
He moved on, stacking the used dishes onto a tray. Naturally, he locked eyes with Ries, who was still sprawled across the table.
“……”
What should he scold him for first? Climbing onto the table? Eating the Duke’s food? Lying around like he owned the place?
After a moment of thought, what slipped out of Ketir’s mouth was something else entirely.
“…You look like you’ve put on some weight.”
“……!”
Ries froze in place, still sprawled out. It took a couple seconds for the words to truly register.
Fat? Me? Fat?
He turned his gaze downward. His belly, puffed up like a little hill, was obnoxiously front and center in his vision…
He hadn’t thought much of it before, but now that it had been pointed out, it really did look too round. Even accounting for the fact that he’d just eaten Justyn’s entire meal.
“Put on some weight. Put on some weight. Put on some weight…”
The words looped endlessly in his mind. Ketir’s brutally honest comment echoed over and over, refusing to leave.
He was so shocked, he didn’t even notice his mouth hanging open. It wasn’t until Ketir’s face started morphing into something bizarre that he snapped out of it.
Seriously, who told him to be so harsh?
Ries felt wronged. He hadn’t done anything—and suddenly it was like he got slapped out of nowhere. He’d completely forgotten that he was the one who flopped down dramatically on the table, drawing all that attention.
And so, his thoughts circled back to square one.
So… I really have gotten fat?
He glanced down again at his plump, jiggly belly. This was a never-ending curse.
And Ketir—he had stopped mid-motion, dishes in hand, simply staring at him.
That expression said it all. As if he knew exactly what “you got fat” meant. His wide, round eyes and jaw-dropped mouth screamed, “I’m in shock. Absolutely floored.”
Just as he opened his mouth to say something—
“Ketir.”
Justyn, who had been silent all this time, called out softly. His low, quiet voice carried the weight of his thoughts more clearly than any expression could.
And he looked extremely displeased. It was rare to see Justyn reveal his emotions so openly, which made Ketir pause, completely forgetting what he was about to say. He instinctively turned toward his superior.
Of course—those eyes were cold. Icy. Ketir swallowed hard and mentally replayed his actions.
…What did I do wrong?
Everything had been business as usual. Nothing out of the ordinary. What could’ve triggered this reaction?
The answer came with Justyn’s next words.
“Apologize.”
“Excuse me?”
“To Ries. I think you should apologize. Saying something like ‘he’s fat’ right in front of him… don’t you think that’s a bit much? He looks hurt.”
Ketir blinked in disbelief, then slowly nodded. He did look hurt. You could see it all over his face.
“Also, Ries isn’t fat. He’s just a little rounder, that’s all.”
“……”
“When I first brought him here, he was skin and bones. The way he is now—it’s perfect. Honestly, he’d still look good even if he gained a bit more.”
Around that point, Ketir’s brain finally kicked back into gear—just enough to mount a rebuttal.
He thought back to when he first met Ries. Sure, he wasn’t chubby back then. Maybe even a little thin. But was he really that emaciated? He wasn’t so sure.
More importantly—
Any more weight and that’s not “chubby,” that’s full-on obese.
The image of Ries’s hilariously round belly popped into his mind again.
Given how utterly whipped Justyn was for that cat, it was obvious he wasn’t seeing things clearly. Objectively speaking, if Ries gained any more weight, it would definitely count as fat.
That thought spiraled into a full recap of the absurd conversation they’d just had. The reason this whole situation even started.
Ketir pinched his brow, sighing hard.
“Wait—are you seriously telling me to apologize?”
“I am.”
He shut his eyes tight.
This wasn’t even a human being—it was a cat. And all he’d done was state a simple fact. It wasn’t that he minded apologizing to an animal. Saying “sorry” wasn’t hard.
What bothered him was the tone. That serious, low voice Justyn reserved for the rarest, most meaningful moments across all their years together—and he was using it… because he wanted an apology for Ries?
Ketir was still reeling when Justyn added quietly,
“He’s probably hurt. I’m sure of it.”
“……”
No matter how long they’d known each other, or how informal they could be at times, Justyn was still his superior. With that firm tone, there was no room to argue.
So instead of replying, Ketir slowly turned his head. And there it was—Ries, pale as a ghost, sitting up halfway like a little person, looking like the world had ended.
“……”
His mouth was still open, eyes fixed downward at a slight angle—as if he really was staring at his own belly.
Ketir gave in. As ridiculous as it all was, anyone could see it. He’d understood the comment. He’d been hurt.
Tap, tap. With a resigned sigh, Ketir gave the cat a gentle nudge and opened his mouth with visible reluctance.
“I was kidding, Ries. You’re not fat.”
Sparkle. Light returned to Ries’s eyes in an instant.
And just like that, the tension snapped. Ries hopped to his feet, shook himself off, and jumped off the table in one smooth motion.
“MRAAAOW!”
…Not without smacking Ketir across the arm with his white paw first, but let’s overlook that.
The more pressing issue was the man standing nearby, practically glowing with pride.
“Thanks. I knew keeping you around was the right decision.”
Under any other circumstances, those words might’ve been touching. Recognition of his value. A moment of genuine appreciation.
But now?
It just felt like he’d been outplayed—by a cat.
