The pungent smell of blood stinging the nose.
A body as heavy as waterlogged cotton.
A faint consciousness.
And a small, insignificant creature looking up at him.
The little beast that had saved his life.
“I don’t know whether I should miss it or not.”
With hollow eyes, he blankly stared up at the ceiling.
Memories from the days when he still roamed the battlefield.
The reason those memories resurfaced was undoubtedly due to the mysterious white cat that had settled in the garden.
“…I should wash up and get to work.”
The best way to quickly forget painful memories was to focus on work.
He got up and opened the door to head to the small well beside the cabin.
And then—
“…Huh.”
He let out a hollow laugh at the sight of the dead mouse placed in front of the door.
“How absurd.”
Though he tried to forget, the faded memories became even clearer.
“Now I’m receiving bribes from animals in my old age.”
He quietly picked up the mouse and walked to the trash pile.
His life was now comfortable enough that he didn’t need to eat mice.
As his figure gradually faded into the distance, Nine, who had been sitting on a bench watching him, yawned and curled up.
“Nine, humans don’t like mice… right?”
So much worry.
The brown-furred cat, lounging lazily, asked me in a voice full of concern.
“It’s fine. There’s a reason for everything.”
“A reason?”
“There is.”
If I had to explain, it would involve talking about reincarnation, something I couldn’t easily explain to the brown-furred cat.
After all, how could a cat understand the concept of reincarnation, something even humans find hard to believe?
If I hadn’t experienced it myself, I would have dismissed it as nonsense from religion.
It was fortunate that, being a cat, it didn’t question much and just listened to me, its superior.
Thinking about it, bringing it along was a good idea.
Though it sometimes acts on instinct and causes trouble, it generally listens well and doesn’t cause much trouble.
If I were alone, I’d have to run around doing everything myself, but now I can delegate tasks to it and focus on other things.
Perhaps the black cat, being the leader, had a reason for sending the brown-furred cat with me.
This is why it’s good to have led a group at least once.
It broadens your perspective.
“Nine, are we okay now?”
“No.”
“Then what do we need to do?”
“Go catch a mouse tonight.”
“Humans don’t eat mice.”
“Just shut up and catch it. There’s a reason.”
At my calm persuasion, the brown-furred cat nodded.
“Okay!”
“So, sleep in the morning. Humans rarely come in the morning anyway.”
According to the academy’s schedule, there’s hardly anyone around in the morning, so it’s best to use that time for sleep.
A cat’s life, with its unnecessarily long sleep hours, requires maximizing rest to function properly when needed.
Thinking about it, humans who sleep only 6-8 hours and move briskly are quite remarkable.
Sometimes they even work all day without sleeping.
In that sense, maybe being born as a cat was a blessing.
Living a hectic life isn’t bad, but the intensity of the 21st century and this world are on different levels.
At least in Korea, you don’t have to risk your life.
Here, if things go wrong, you might end up like Irina, hunting monsters from the age of seven.
At least I haven’t had to face that.
Though I’m only three years old.
But if I were to convert that to human years, I’d be middle-aged, so it’s okay to have a bit of a curmudgeonly attitude.
As I curled up, lost in pointless thoughts, I felt a gaze from afar.
I didn’t need to look to know who it was.
Should I approach or not?
Knowing that a single attempt would have little effect, I showed no reaction.
Cats are supposed to be shameless.
That’s their selling point as animals.
Especially a stray tiger living off others’ generosity.
“Huh. What a shameless little thing.”
From a distance, a dry laugh and a weary voice reached me.
And then, the sound of scissors snipping began to echo from afar.
So, he’s decided to watch for now.
If that’s the conclusion, then fine.
I let the sound of the scissors lull me to sleep.
Where should an old soldier go?
His hometown was swept away by war, and his savings quickly dried up.
He should have died on the battlefield.
Unable to die, the old soldier settled in a corner of the academy at a comrade’s request.
‘Here, I can quietly end my life.’
A decent environment, with simple tasks like cleaning and tending the garden.
At first, he made many mistakes, but after ten years, he took pride in his skills.
However, the cat that appeared just before the new semester was an unexpected challenge.
“…Huh. Bringing me a mouse every morning instead of a newspaper. I can’t tell if it’s clever or stupid. What am I supposed to do with a mouse…”
It was the fourth day of his standoff with Nine.
For four days, he had seen the mouse placed at his door, and his expression was a mix of complex emotions.
How could it not be?
The mouse at his door was a sharp reminder of his longing.
‘It reminds me of that one.’
A memory with one of the few intact colors in his faded recollections.
[……Are you giving this to me?]
[Meow]
[Huh… Well, thank you.]
When he was severely injured and barely surviving in a cave, a cat he had never seen before placed a dead mouse in front of him.
Days of roasting and eating mice he would never have touched otherwise.
If it weren’t for that cat, he would have become bones in that cave.
No, perhaps not even that.
“I miss it.”
A scruffy old cat with black and brown patches.
When he brought it to the base and threw it jerky, it devoured it so eagerly.
Smart and quick-witted, it quickly became the unit’s beloved mascot.
At night, he would stroke the cat sleeping under his legs, finding comfort.
But happy times never last.
About a year after bringing the old cat, Fortuna, to the base.
During an enemy ambush, his lucky charm burned to death before his eyes.
‘I shouldn’t have drunk that day. Pathetic.’
A vivid nightmare followed by helpless self-reproach.
He was too old to give affection to anyone now.
But… he couldn’t deny his loneliness.
He quietly picked up the mouse and walked to the trash pile.
It had already been a week since his first encounter with Barristan.
Eat, sleep, poop.
And sneakily placing a mouse at night.
To an ordinary person, it might seem like I’m tormenting the old man…
But I can confidently say this was the only way to persuade him.
Humans are creatures that live on memories.
Nothing is more effective than stimulating good memories.
Of course, I can’t guarantee it will always work…
“Nine, should I catch a mouse today too?”
“No, you don’t need to anymore.”
“Really?”
“I think it’s enough now.”
A week.
Long or short, it didn’t take much time for a human’s heart to change.
Humans are fickle creatures, capable of changing their minds in just ten minutes.
“You’ve done well, kid.”
“I’m not a kid. I’m all grown up.”
“Acting like a kid, though.”
Only one year old, huh?
Then you’re a kid.
Smaller than me, too.
“No—”
“Just be quiet, okay?”
I think I’m starting to see the fruits of my efforts.
The sound of approaching footsteps.
A faint light in eyes that usually showed no emotion.
Normally, we would ignore each other, but this time he approached and quietly reached out to stroke my back.
“Softer and fluffier than that one.”
“Meow—”
Rough, calloused hands.
The hands of a fisherman who had spent his life catching fish and a soldier who had roamed battlefields felt different, even though they were both hands.
“Alright, I give up, you rascal. Just don’t cause any trouble.”
With a voice tinged with both relief and regret, the old man stroked the back of my neck and walked away, scissors in hand, towards the overgrown branches.
It was a spring day when the pollen was starting to run rampant.