The Cat is on Strike 8

“WEEE-oooOOOOng.”

—Hey. That looks pretty damn tasty, doesn’t it?

Four rough-looking alley cats with nasty expressions closed in on him, circling like a pack of thugs. A couple of them looked familiar—among them was the same black cat that had once blocked his path at the garbage dump.

But that wasn’t the issue right now. He clenched his jaw and bit into the bread harder.

A chorus of menacing growls echoed from behind him.

—Why don’t you be smart and drop that, yeah?

—It’s been a while since we’ve had a proper feast, boss!

—Looks like he stole that from the big human. How’d he even manage that?

—Sheer dumb luck. There’s no way a loser who can’t even catch a rat could actually pull off a real hunt.

They kept chattering like he’d already given up. Like it was a done deal that he’d toss the bread and run. These guys weren’t just strays—they were full-blown alley punks.

If he’d been thinking straight, he never would’ve dared to stand up to four of them. But right now, Strawberry was beyond hungry—he’d snapped.

Eyes sharp and gleaming, he let out a growl, though with the bread stuffed in his mouth, it came out a muffled mess.

“Mrrrgghh!”

Rough translation? Go screw yourselves!

With a parting curse, he slammed his paws into the ground and bolted.

“KYAAOOONG!!!”

“WEEEoooOOOng!”

The snarls and pounding footsteps chasing after him were bone-chilling.

Under normal circumstances, he never would’ve dared step paw onto the main road. But now, he charged in without hesitation. Screams erupted all around at the sudden appearance of a cat darting into traffic.

He weaved between the crowd, slipping through legs and under benches, before diving into the alley on the other side. His heart nearly stopped, thinking someone would kick him. Forcing his panicked heartbeat to settle, he risked a glance behind him.

…Are they still chasing me?

Not far behind, the pack of black cats was still on his tail. Strawberry froze up. He thought they’d give up by now—but no. They were coming after him with everything they had. Way more persistent than he’d expected.

He broke into another sprint, darting through the maze of alleyways, climbing up walls, leaping past random windows—any escape route he could find, he took.

Eventually, he skidded to a stop in front of a dead end.

“Kyaaagh!”

—Now hand it over, like a good little kitty!

Unbelievable. He dropped the bread with a dull thud, a fresh wave of frustration washing over him. He wanted nothing more than to smack those smug grins off their faces.

What the hell was in this bread? Honey? Drugs? These lunatics just wouldn’t back off. To make things worse, he must’ve overstrained himself jumping down earlier—his right foreleg throbbed with every movement.

Their expressions said it all—cocky, arrogant, like they’d already won. His insides boiled.

Run again?

No good. With them blocking the only exit, he’d be caught in a heartbeat.

Even if he somehow got away, they’d just hunt him down again. And now that his leg was injured, he couldn’t even rely on speed.

…Fight them?

He shook his head. That was even dumber. He could already see how that would end—beat to a pulp and the bread gone anyway.

So what then? Just… give it up?

He was on the verge of making that miserable choice when—

Step. Step.

A heavy presence approached from the opposite side of the alley.

Not just Strawberry—the other four cats perked their ears in sync.

Thudding, deliberate footsteps. Definitely a big human male. All their fur stood on end as the sound drew closer and closer.

And then, finally, the man appeared.

“HISSS!”

One of the cats hissed, hackles raised. Strawberry totally understood the reaction.

The man was terrifyingly black—jet black hair, black clothes, black shoes. Even black gloves, not a hint of skin showing anywhere. Just a walking shadow.

As if that wasn’t creepy enough, his face was completely hidden behind a black mask. From head to toe, he was cloaked in pitch black.

He radiated pure suspicion. The moment he took a step closer, the four thug cats bolted like their lives depended on it.

Seriously? They left me behind and ran?!

Now completely alone, Strawberry clamped his jaw shut, barely managing to swallow a dry gulp.

Only three things remained in that suffocating dead-end alley:

One terrified cat, a mangled piece of bread from a desperate chase, and a man who looked like a crow brought to life.

The silence was suffocating. The man’s footsteps drew nearer, slow and steady.

And Strawberry… didn’t run.

Well, not because he was being brave—far from it.

…S-So scary.

He couldn’t move. His body was frozen—paralyzed by fear.

There, at the dead end of the alley, stood a towering man cloaked entirely in black from head to toe.

Even if it had been just a regular human, it would’ve been terrifying. But for someone as small as a cat, the size difference was laughable. There was no contest.

His legs refused to respond. His brain stuttered and stalled. And while he stood there trembling, the man kept walking—closer and closer—until he was right in front of him.

On instinct, Strawberry squeezed his eyes shut.

But… nothing happened.

“……?”

He cautiously cracked them open. The man, who looked ready to snatch him up just moments ago, had already turned away. He was walking off in the opposite direction.

In his hand was a small loaf of bread—torn, dirty, and caked in grime.

It looked… painfully familiar.

Strawberry slowly turned his head.

“……”

The bread was gone.

The bread he’d clung to with everything he had, even while being chased by those savage alley punks. The one he’d risked getting clobbered with a broom to steal.

Gone.

He was so stunned he couldn’t even cry. He just stood there, staring in disbelief at the cold, empty street.

It wasn’t until a delayed wave of reality hit that he staggered on his paws.

A human… stole a cat’s bread…?

It was so absurd, so mind-numbingly ridiculous, he couldn’t even move. He just stood there, dazed, rooted to the spot.

Then—another presence returned.

Strawberry’s ears perked up at once.

It was him again. The man.

Recognizing the scent instantly, Strawberry’s fur fluffed up, tail puffed like a duster. The guy had officially been downgraded from “scary and suspicious” to “scary, suspicious, and totally insane.”

Every instinct screamed to stay on guard.

And then, the crow-like figure reappeared—this time holding not the filthy scrap of bread, but a neat, brown paper bag.

Strawberry forgot all about being wary.

His eyes locked on the bag like he was under a spell.

“…Here.”

The man approached without a sound. From the bag, he pulled out a fresh, warm loaf of bread—still steaming slightly from the heat.

He carefully placed it on the ground, then stepped back.

Strawberry shivered.

You… You’re a good guy!

Without hesitation, he dove in and took a huge bite.

The crust was buttery and golden. Inside, it was packed with creamy, savory-sweet mashed potatoes. Soft, warm, perfectly fluffy—each bite sent waves of joy through his tiny body.

Before he knew it, half the loaf was gone. Only then did he realize just how full his belly felt.

Ahh…

Tears threatened to spill. It had been so long since he’d felt this kind of fullness.

Strawberry slowly looked up.

The man was still standing there, silently watching. Maybe he’d stayed to make sure the food didn’t get snatched again. But thanks to the short distance, Strawberry got a proper look at his face—or rather, what little he could see of it.

The man wore a full black mask, covering his entire face. The only openings were two eyeholes.

But that alone was enough to notice something new.

Red.

His eyes—his irises were a deep, vivid red.

With his all-black, grim reaper vibe, those eyes were the only color on him. Just that splash of crimson.

If Strawberry had seen it earlier, he probably would’ve frozen in terror. But now? After the bread?

The affection meter was already maxed out.

All he saw now was beauty.

Like jewels. Like… rubies, maybe.

But the awe didn’t last long. The man shifted, clearly getting ready to leave.

No!

Strawberry sprang into action.

He hadn’t been here long, but this man—this strange, suspicious, silent man—was the first person to ever buy him food.

So what if he looked shady? Who cared?

What mattered was that he’d spent money and gone out of his way… for a stray.

That meant he had a kind heart.

I’m not letting you go.

Maybe—just maybe—this was his shot to finally escape life on the streets.

Strawberry decided to go for it. The thing humans called “choosing your human.”

“Nyaaang.”

He jumped in front of the man and rubbed up against his leg. Then, for the first time in his life, he let out the cutest meow he could muster.

He thought he’d get a head pat at least.

But the moment their bodies made contact, the man froze like a statue.

“Nyaaang?”

“……”

He could hear him trying to steady his breath.

Only after what felt like forever did the man finally speak—with a voice hoarse and dry, as if it hadn’t been used in ages.

Author: Levia