Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Part One - Change

A cat was waiting at the doorstep. Not actually waiting, of course, rather sitting idly. In an expectant manner.

Kaveh approached tentatively upon realising that the cat had no inclination of moving, other than the odd swiping of its tail. Still, his footsteps didn’t seem to alarm it, neither did the rustling of bags as he adjusted the groceries, nor the din of his keys as he reached into his pocket. Instead, the cat afforded him a glance, another swipe of the tail across the ground.

No, not afforded him. The cat had only looked at him out of reflex.

Evidently news of his penchant for carrying food upon his person had spread throughout the cat communities of the city. Perhaps it had been a mistake to feed a conglomerate of the neighbourhood cats out of his palm a street away from the house a few days ago, but he had been granted permission by their owners, and they had been persistent. Within the last few days alone he had been cornered by a few regulars, Fitz, Beyaz, and Luna. Pattering idly behind him, through Treasures Street, the Grand Bazaar, and even halfway down the path leading out of the city.

What had started with an occasional habit he indulged in over the years had become an everyday occurrence within the past month of a suppressive summer. He had constructed a blockade from the sun in the form of a shelter, which proved effective for a short time, until more and more cats congregated to it, and it essentially became a heat farm. Supplying water for them was the least he could do, and when the water bowl emptied, he refilled it, and then the cats were spilling over his hands, his arms, his lap, and then the owners, or friends of the owners, stopped to commend him, to give him snacks to feed them, to give him anecdotes of each endearing nuisance in his arms.

It had been a mistake to feed them, he understood this, but it didn’t feel so much like a mistake when Maya’s kittens wound themselves around his feet, or when the notorious aged recluse, Zada, poured himself over his lap when he was having lunch sitting outside Puspa’s Café. Children were especially eager, pointing out the differences in breeds, naming the negatives and positives for each, recommending dietary regimes – all while he reiterated that, actually, no, he didn’t own a cat, and, no, none of these cats were his.

He had always been interested in animals but there was a vast difference between petting a cat on the street and being responsible for its welfare. Having a life depend upon him was too great a weight to entertain. Feeding them titbits of fish morsels out of his hand was more than substantial. Besides, he already held the responsibility of ridding his clothes of fur so as to not risk spreading it around the house. That in itself was taxing enough.

This cat had a thick coat, worsened by the fact that it was grey in colour, meaning it would show up, emboldened, on his trousers and shirt – black and white, respectively. He would not engage, he decided as he stood directly next to the cat. The cat looked up to him, and then looked back towards the door. Its tail swished once again. Impatiently.

But, no. The unfamiliar cat could not be impatient. Kaveh had never seen this cat before, which meant that this cat was either a stray or a new adoption to Sumeru City’s community. Therefore, the cat could not be impatient to enter inside a stranger’s house.

If it was a stray, it would be hungry. If it wasn’t a stray and was new to the city, its family may be searching for it. Kaveh was deterred in his resolution. The key was in the lock but he failed to turn it, instead glancing back to the cat.

The cat stared evenly back at him. With a sigh, Kaveh crouched to meet its eyeline, hoarding the groceries to his chest in case the cat decided to take an interest. He outstretched his palm. The cat made no move towards him.

“Not interested, huh…?” Clearly, the cat was accustomed to this type of behaviour in humans. It had no interest in being pet. Establishing Kaveh’s palm was empty, it had turned its attention back to the door.

Rising to his feet, Kaveh followed the cat’s interest, unlocking the door. He held it close to him, keeping a wary eye on the cat positioned by the doorstep. The cat had stood and paced forwards. Kaveh shut the door on it, twinging with guilt. It would be absolved shortly, he resolved.

Once unpacking the groceries, he assembled some cat food, preferred by the cats of the neighbourhood, and a bowl of water. Emerging into the sun once more, he sighted the cat, once again positioned near the doorstep. Once seeing Kaveh, its tail stood upright before resuming a neutral position.

“Mad at me?” he muttered, placing the bowl a safe distance away from himself.

The cat eyed the bowl, rose (with considerable effort), and looked into the water. Feeling as if he had appeased himself, Kaveh offered the bowl of feed. The cat peered towards the water bowl as Kaveh assumed a crouch. The cat made no move to drink.

This cat was a stray, he concluded. It was sceptical of humans – perhaps it had even been offered food and water before, only for it to have been poisoned. But if it was a stray, then how come it was so well-groomed? It appeared well-fed, but, he digressed, appearances were deceiving. Perhaps the thickness of its coat created the illusion of a well-fed, luxurious breed. In reality, it could be malnourished. That would explain its languid movements - its conservation of energy.

Or perhaps it wasn’t a stray, and instead a house cat – this explained why Kaveh had never seen it before. In that case, it truly was lost, and its owner would undoubtedly begin searching for it, if they weren’t already.

From observation, he couldn’t spot any distinguishing markers which signified the cat was owned. But if it were, indeed, a house cat, would there be any need for such a thing?

The cat refused to drink and showed no interest in food. It resumed its position. Kaveh stood from his crouch, and yet the cat showed no sign of alarm. It appeared as if Kaveh’s presence was of no threat to him. This boded well. He couldn’t risk leaving it; what if it wandered off, out of the city, whilst he dashed around, reporting a missing house cat to the authorities, all the while trying to pin down its owner?

A tentative step forwards. No reaction. Kaveh cleared away the bowl of food and water, lest some neighbouring cat get the incorrect impression, and similarly attempt to soldier their way into the house. The cat remained.

Kaveh approached it, standing directly in front of it. The cat looked up to him, met his gaze as he crouched once more. He held his palm out, allowed it to be examined. When the cat showed no signs of fear, he risked brushing his fingertips over its forehead.

Upon touch, the cat reacted. More aptly, it appeared to reanimate itself. Its tail jolted to the side, and when Kaveh retracted, easing himself upright to back away, the cat moved to follow. It perched directly at Kaveh’s feet, and then on his shoes, pinning Kaveh to the spot.

“Hey.” The cat continued to stare up at him. “You’re a strange one. I thought you weren’t interested in humans.”

The cat did not narrow its eyes at Kaveh. The sun had moved in the sky, signalling the ease into evening. Its light had refracted from the house’s windows and had caught the glint of the cat’s irises. The cat tail flickered side to side before curling around itself, content with the uneven ground of Kaveh’s shoes.

It was a creature of self-importance, more so than any other cat Kaveh had encountered. Truly a house cat. Spoiled.

And then the cat moved, strutting past Kaveh, where it arrived at the door. It glanced back at Kaveh, and then sat, with seemingly deliberate slowness.

Right. There was only so much audacity he would withstand. “You’re not coming in,” he said, approaching the cat once more.

The cat continued to look up at him, enacting a swish of its tail across the doorstep. Clearly, it didn’t agree. Well, Kaveh assumed that the cat didn’t agree, but, in reality, the cat neither agreed nor disagreed with his statement, because the cat couldn’t understand him.

“You don’t mind me touching you, do you?” He asked because the cat was regarding him with a particular wary stare as he crouched down once more. “You seemed to like it before.”

The cat did like it. For once, Kaveh was not met with a level gaze as the cat’s eyes closed, butting its head against Kaveh’s palm. This was a good sign. He pushed it further, running his fingers across the back of its neck, to the large of its back. The cat showed no resistance, although its eyes were open once more. From up close, Kaveh could observe the clearness of its eyes, contrasting with the dark of its coat. It truly was a beautiful cat. If not off-putting in its behaviour.

The housecat paced forwards, staring evenly up at him. Kaveh’s hand continued running through its coat – irresistibly soft. It was a pampered pet, alright, he mused. He was sure it had been doused and spruced with expensive oils. It might not even be trained to groom itself, most likely being brushed thrice daily.

Uncertain as to the cat’s intentions, he decided it was a positive that the cat had willingly approached him. Perhaps the promise of petting would be a good enough incentive to encourage the cat to follow after him – as it was for multiple other cats across the city.

It worked. Kaveh continued looking backwards, eyes trained on the cat, as he moved back towards Treasures Street. The cat trailed behind him at an unhurried pace, which became exponentially measured as Kaveh strode on. He was convinced that the cat stopped moving as soon as his head was turned, as if they were playing a children’s game. As the crowds thickened, Kaveh relented.

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” he muttered under his breath as he doubled backwards. The cat was practically shuffling, its pacing was so slow. Not laboured, however. It had proved itself perfectly capable of dexterity in its initial pursuit of Kaveh.

The cat came to sit in front of Kaveh, directly in the middle of the street. “You’re incorrigible. How does your owner put up with you?”

The cat merely flicked its tail, gaze trained upwards at him. He had the vague sense that the cat was amused. Disgust lashed at him. His balm was the reminder that he was above being scorned by a cat and that he was clearly projecting his emotions onto traits that reminded him of a certain someone.

With a sigh of particular grace, he lowered himself to the cat’s level, aware that they were causing congestion in the evening dash for dinner. People were displeased to walk around him, but once they realised why, they were more forgiving, believing the cat to be an endearing pet, rather than a troublesome nuisance.

“You’re good, aren’t you?” he said, voice as soft as he could make it. “You wouldn’t mind if I picked you up, would you?”

What was the point of asking if not to reassure himself? The cat could not answer. Which he was glad for; the cat was strange, eerie almost, so if it began spouting proverbs at him, Kaveh wouldn’t necessarily be surprised, but he wasn’t sure if he would be so willing to help it. What could he possibly do for a talking, sentient cat?

Incapacitated with the uncertainty of how the cat would react if he unceremoniously scooped it up, it took a few seconds to process the cat languidly reaching up – jumping up, curling around his arm.

“Hey!” The cat was attempting to climb up his arm. No, not attempting. Somehow doing it. “What are you doing? Hey!”

The gasps and laughter he heard around him were secondary. The cat had roped itself around Kaveh’s arm, unbudging. He had to remove it by scooping it to his chest via the arm that wasn’t held hostage.

The cat lay in his arms, having been hauled from where it had saddled itself around Kaveh’s bicep. It peered up at him with an aura of satisfaction. That, more than the seamless circus trick coupled with the surprising athleticism for such a lazy creature, was what truly unnerved him.

“How precious!” An auntie merchant cooed at the sight of the cat nestled in his arms.

The sooner the cat was dealt with, the better.

This mantra alone was enough for fuel, and it propelled him to the Citadel of Regzar, where he inquired after a missing cat. Missing cats were rare, due to the domesticity of the community, where cats were almost as discernible as the citizens themselves. A house cat of this size and breed was distinct, however, so he was informed that he would be alerted if there were any reports of missing cats.

The next hour consisted of him alternating between Treasures Street and the Grand Bazaar, asking numerous passersby if they knew of a missing cat, or recognised the cat snuggled in his arms. He was disappointed each time, and when he trudged up the twisting slopes to the Akademiya was he hit by a surge of frustration. The cat had its eyes closed. It was asleep. Whilst Kaveh was dashing around, frantically trying to restore it to its owner, it had decided that Kaveh was a convenient mattress.

The search within the Akademiya was a fruitless endeavour, not that he managed to get past the gates due to the prohibition of animals on the grounds. Scholars and lecturers alike could offer him no help, all reciting the same story as those he had questioned in Treasures Street and the Grand Bazaar – they had never seen this cat before. Was he sure it wasn’t a stray?

He was resolutely sure. The cat was arrogant, self-important, well-fed, and ridiculously soft to the touch. It wasn’t skittish around strangers and could afford to refuse food and water. His offerings probably hadn’t been in the cat’s calibre, Kaveh realised on his way to the animal practice. The cat was above his carefully researched and well-informed cat feed mix. He never wanted to see the cat again once this was over.

The Amurta managed animal practice operated at the base of the slope reaching towards the Akademiya. Kaveh was sweat-clad by the time he reached it. Fortunately, there wasn’t much time to wait before he was seen by a researcher.

The cat was deemed healthy and active – which Kaveh had to ask for clarification on.

“Cats of this breed are prone to obesity due to their lethargic nature. However, he seems to be of the opposite type. Actually, he has a large muscle density, which is good! If he keeps up with the general activity which amassed this, then this will alleviate serious health problems in the future.”

The future. Kaveh had to explain that if the cat was healthy, then he undoubtedly had an owner – which Kaveh was not, and was not planning to be. The researcher had apologised; she had never seen this cat before, and was certain that no cat of this breed had been admitted for any vaccination. If the cat was a stray, perhaps it had only recently become so, potentially it had ran away from its owner.

Whatever the scenario, the cat was left with Kaveh. Or, perhaps more accurately, Kaveh was stuck with the cat.

Jazmyn, the Amurta researcher, had been incredibly empathetic. “The best course of action would be to register him with us, that way we can provide him shelter here and an address for retrieval if his owner attempts to find him. If not, we can hold him here for adoption.”

Kaveh had assented to this heartily, until he was silenced by the previously taciturn house cat. Presumably being addled from having been roused early in its sleep, the cat had been agreeable throughout his examination. Agreeable - meaning not difficult. Now, however, the cat had reverted to its true nature.

He clung to Kaveh’s sleeve, just as he had done on Treasures Street.

“Oh, not this again.” The cat was determined, hoisting itself up Kaveh’s arm, paw coming to rest on Kaveh’s shoulder, practically elevating himself over Kaveh’s face.

He had no choice but to take the cat into his arms – anything to stop him from crawling atop his head. The cat hadn’t even needed to bare his claws to leverage himself. Kaveh didn’t want to know what else he was capable of.

Jazmyn was laughing. “It seems he likes you.”

“You think so?” Kaveh felt he was right to be sceptical. The cat was peering up at him from his arms once more, only instead of exuding an aura of smugness, he seemed imploring. This cat was impossible. His behaviour was erratic and unlike any other cats Kaveh had seen. How could climbing onto Kaveh’s face be accurately understood as a sign of affection from this cat? “I think he likes being difficult.”

“That may be so, but he seems particularly attached to you. Since his history is obscure, it may do more harm than good to leave him here right now. Perhaps it was his owner who left him, and not the other way around.”

Kaveh hadn’t considered it from that angle, although he felt he could empathise with the owner somewhat in that case. The cat continued staring up at him, his tail flicking once, brushing the tip against Kaveh’s nose. Hm. Despite how irksome and unpredictable the cat could be, there was no excuse to abandon a life that you took it upon yourself to care for.

“Are you sure there’s really no way you can keep him with you? Even if just until this time tomorrow? We’ll work with the appropriate authorities in handing out descriptions of the missing cat, and if we don’t find anything by nightfall, we can take him off your hands to process him for adoption. I’ll supply you the necessities and the instructions – he’s a house cat, so it won’t be demanding.”

So, of course, Kaveh took the cat home. How could he say no to such a case? Twenty-four hours wasn’t such a long time, after all. The resolution of matter had only been postponed. He only experienced regret upon reaching the house as the cat refused to leave his arms.

“Are you kidding me? You didn’t want me to touch you earlier.” Still, the cat was undeterred. If anything, he nestled closer to Kaveh’s chest, ear tucking inwards. “Look, you’re getting what you wanted. I’m letting you inside. Or I will do, if you let me.”

It seemed he got through. With a twitch of his ear, the cat slid from his arms, jumping onto the doorstep. He had barely reached into his pocket for the keys before he found he was trapped in place. The cat had wound himself around Kaveh’s ankle, pathing a loop of contentment. Or contempt. He seemed aware of his effect, having stalled Kaveh in his tracks, peering upwards with those unfathomable eyes.

“Insufferable. So contemptuous. If every cat were like this, domestication never would have been an option.”

The cat slipped inside before the door was even completely open. Having paused to remove his shoes and hang up his cape, the cat had evaded his peripheral vision. Until he looked up at the living room.

“Hey. No. Off.” The cat stared back at him from the divan. He swished his tail – pausing the movement mid-air. Kaveh choked back his frustration at this creature’s audacity. “That isn’t yours. What am I saying? None of this is yours. Off.”

The cat listened, jumping down from the divan – bounding over the table, and electing for the divan on the left side. No. The cat hadn’t listened. He had simply responded by following where Kaveh had pointed to. The cat didn’t understand what he was saying.

“Fine, you can sleep there. It’s already covered with fur anyway, what’s more at this point?” Surprisingly, the cat hadn’t shed. He swiped his hand back and forth over Alhaitham’s divan, but no discernible grey hairs emerged.

Now that he thought about it, no hairs had shed onto his hands either when he was petting the cat, or even carrying him. He inspected his sleeves – spotless. As were his trousers. Not a hair in sight. Perhaps the assuredly extravagant owner had access to some premium anti-shed device currently not on the market. For that, he was grateful. It would make for less cleaning, and therefore less evidence to prompt suspicion.

Alhaitham would never allow for cats inside the house. He seemed distasteful enough when he saw Kaveh interact with one on the street, and had pointed out the various hairs strewn across Kaveh’s clothing after a particularly zealous cat (Ela) shot into his arms, almost trampling her brother. Kaveh understood – to a degree. He wasn’t fond of having to manually pick out stubborn hairs from the fibre of his clothes, one by one, since the clothes brush had failed in its purpose. He knew that Alhaitham would have no such patience for similar matters. It wasn’t practical.

What Kaveh didn’t understand, however, was Alhaitham’s disregard for animals. Not that Kaveh was aggrieved by this, as he affirmed that it was for the better that Alhaitham had no interest in pets. Most likely, he would adopt one of most convenience if he ever had the inkling, something like a snake, or a spider for the mosquitos in summer, something detached and fuss-free. He would forget about it, most likely, caught up in some new research direction, and then it would be left to Kaveh to clean out its cage.

It wasn’t as if Alhaitham didn’t care about animals, but neither did he particularly care for them. They weren’t congruous with his interests. It was apparent whenever he observed Kaveh being practically mauled by a litter of kittens, showering them with needless plenteous compliments and forehead kisses. He looked on, but not with interest. Perhaps he was trying to understand the appeal, so as to better enhance his perception of objectivity.

What objectivity could be found in a lifeform attempting to find its warmth in you? Really. The less he understood of Alhaitham, the better.

He focussed on the matter at hand, setting up the litterbox supplied to him by Jazmyn. The contemptuous house cat continued to watch him from where he was perched on the divan. Kaveh sank back on the divan. “What?”

The cat stared back at him. Kaveh reached for him, only to be ignored. The cat bounded away from him, over his lap, onto the rug, and out of eyeline. Twisting around, Kaveh’s eyes were caught by a flick of a tail disappearing into the kitchen. Had he smelt food?

Ah. Dinner. He had forgotten that he was hungry. He was sure that the house cat would be too, since he hadn’t eaten the food offered earlier. Hauling himself upright, he followed after the cat. He had stationed himself in front of the cooling unit, moving only by a few paces once Kaveh entered.

“Out.” Despite his lack of shedding, Kaveh wasn’t convinced of the cat’s general cleanliness. It surely wasn’t hygienic to allow him into the kitchen. The pest merely looked at him. “I’m serious. I’m not cleaning after you in here, too. I won’t have time.”

Alhaitham would be returning tomorrow, presumably. Having left early yesterday morning, even before Kaveh had awoken, his research trip would occupy him for the next twenty-four hours or so. From the little information Kaveh had received, he wouldn’t be venturing to the far reaches of the desert, and his interest had seemed focussed. Therefore, as how things typically went in these scenarios, upon reaching each site of interest, Alhaitham would confirm whether his intrigue was valid or not within the first hour or so.

The duration of his stay depended on his findings. If he hadn’t returned by the next day, Kaveh estimated he would return by the third or fourth. Unless he had discovered something specifically engaging, he preferred not to reside in the desert for a prolonged period. He truly was a homebody. Kaveh was only glad that he had established a break in his monotonous routine – not that he would consider it as wholly for the better. Leaving the house would be good for him, to some degree, but it wasn’t as if he had left for a social occasion.

It was good for Kaveh, too. Had something of this nature occurred whilst Alhaitham was here, he would have to be a lot more discrete about harbouring a house cat under the roof. Regardless of how he had gone about it, he would have undoubtedly exhibited some suspicious behaviour, which Alhaitham would have assuredly picked up on. He was more than aware that he wasn’t the most adept liar. But at least he wouldn’t have to worry about that. Alhaitham was out of the house for at least until late afternoon tomorrow, which gave him more than enough time to rid himself of the cat. Not enough time, however, to rid the house of evidence.

The house cat remained ignorant of Kaveh’s inner musings. He had listened– no. He had been wary of Kaveh stepping on his tail, and had repositioned itself at the threshold of the doorway. Kaveh fixed himself the leftovers from yesterday’s takeout only after filling a bowl of different cat feed. He had placed it on the floor, alongside the water he had offered earlier in the day. The house cat remained uninterested.

“Still not fancy enough for you?” The pest turned away from him, pacing away from the door, only to stop and look behind. Was it reenacting Kaveh’s method of ensuring a pursuit? This audacious, cunning little thing. “No. Come back. You need to eat something, or drink at least.”

The cat shook his head. Or sneezed. Or ridded himself of an annoyance from his fur. He continued moving down the hall, towards the living room. Kaveh followed after him with the two bowls, placing them at the foot of the table, unbothered in smothering his mutters of complaint.

“You. Eat.” Kaveh used simple terms, pointing at the cat, and then the bowl of feed. He had placed two slices of a fish roll on top of the feed. If the housecat refused cooking from Lambad’s Tavern then he truly was a lost cause. He would have to focus the cat’s attention on water consumption.

When he returned from eating his own dinner, he was faced with the worst. The cat had ignored both bowls and had instead taken to lolling around on the divan – only after knocking over several pieces of note paper from the pile on the right side of the table.

“You’re not going to make it for tomorrow at this rate.” He cleared away the food and left the water. The housecat had seated itself upon Kaveh’s return, watching as he set to tidying Alhaitham’s papers. He glanced through them. “Seriously? What’s his deal?”

Alhaitham was not a Spantamad scholar, nor had he any particular interest to be. Why he had developed a sudden mania for Ley Lines and their connections with sets of ancient groups dwelling in the desert, Kaveh couldn’t fathom. It wasn’t solely Alhaitham, however. It appeared as if several people had contributed to his research; or had been the catalyst for his interest.

It was inconceivable. Since when had Alhaitham been inclined to partake in a joint project? In a research field that didn’t concern a Haravatat graduate? Yes, Alhaitham had expanded his scope of knowledge far beyond the boundaries of what Haravatat teaching consisted of, both through having been enrolled in various courses of all six schools, and through his excessive (unhealthy) book learning – but to join a Spantamad research project? With other people? Voluntarily?

It couldn’t be, Kaveh concluded, as he placed the notes back onto the table. He was missing key details – as usual when it pertained to matters concerning Alhaitham. Alhaitham, as any other Sumerian, scholar or not, was fully aware of the intent of pursuing non-mandatory joint projects.

To have volunteered to create bonds based upon common interest, academic betterment for all, and mutual companionship solely because of a passing interest on how Ley Lines were viewed in practices worshipping ancient gods was preposterous, especially for Alhaitham. To opt to build a family to pursue a fleeting fancy… 

Whatever. What Alhaitham chose to do was none of his concern. But then why leave the notes on the side for Kaveh to find?

“Whatever.” Voicing his frustration was instinct. He had forgotten he wasn’t alone. The housecat continued to watch him, with something akin to intent. Rounding the table confirmed that the water bowl went untouched. Right. He at least knew how to deal with this problem.

Once he returned, armed with what Jazmyn had bestowed him with, he met the housecat’s intense gaze with a challenge of his own. He lowered himself onto the divan cautiously. The housecat paid no mind, only considering what Kaveh held in his hand for a brief moment.

“I’m gathering you were pampered, right? You should be used to this, then.” A bowl wasn’t good enough; it was a foreign object. Kaveh outstretched his spare hand, coaxing the housecat through its impassivity – to no avail. He allowed the ear scratch but refused to move forwards into it, regarding the bottlefeeder with suspicion. “Come on. It’ll be easier if you’re over here.”

Only then was he convinced, rising to approach Kaveh, head tilting towards Kaveh’s hand, pressing his body into Kaveh’s arm. The bottlefeeder went ignored, even so far as to tilt his face away from it as he curled onto Kaveh’s lap.

“Nothing doing, huh?” The house cat was pliant underneath his fingers. What oil had that owner used? His fur was practically melting, luscious, almost loving. What was easier than a cat seeking comfort on your lap? Everything seemed to slip away, and time was no longer of any concern.

The timepiece on the table remained, however, which meant his newfound haven was a fickle respite. He went to rise, legs tensing, but the house cat refused to budge. He attempted to manoeuvre the stubborn thing to the divan, but he seemed to be using his ridiculous muscle mass as an anchor.

“Come on. I should have started work hours ago.” The cat’s ear twitched. His tail batted against the arm procured against his side. “You’re not a good enough distraction, I’m afraid.”

He stood up, allowing no choice but for the pest to jump aside. He was graced with a displeased glare. “Alright, I get it. I’ll be back. And I haven’t forgotten about the water!”

He hadn’t forgotten, but there proved no point in remembering. He tried various times throughout the night to encourage the stubborn thing into drinking, even squeezing a few drops onto his fingertip and pressing it to his nose. The cat hadn’t liked that, butting his head against Kaveh’s finger, and then wiping the remnants of the liquid off on Kaveh’s trousers.

“Fine. Be like that. But don’t say I didn’t warn you!” He had lectured the pest on the risk of dehydration, but, of course, the outcome hadn’t changed at all, because the cat couldn’t understand him.

The house cat seemed content enough curling up on Kaveh’s lap, rising to his chest when Kaveh transferred from working at the desk in the study, to the divan, when his legs started falling asleep. The cat was heavy, and he told him so.

“How are you so muscular?” He was tracing out a prospective buttress into his sketchbook, the nuisance curled in the slope of his knees tucked to his chest. “If this is your regular energy output, I’m not so sure I believe that you’re entirely healthy.”

The cat did nothing since, of course, he couldn’t understand human speech. Sighting the timepiece, Kaveh laid down his sketchbook to stretch, back popping unpleasantly as he righted himself. The cat jumped to the floor once more as Kaveh stood, presumably to follow him, like he had done from the study to the living room.

Kaveh peered over his shoulder to where the cat had paused at his doorway. He deposited his art utensils on his desk to begin assembling the things needed for a bath. “You can come in, you know. Not that you’ve needed my permission for anything else, apparently.”

The cat was unconvinced. So much so, that he turned away, retreating down the hallway. Such a bizarre animal, Kaveh concluded, and then turned his attention to procuring a clean nightshirt.

Once he emerged from the bathroom to retire to bed, he realised that the litterbox had gone unused. No food, no water, no excrement. How could this cat possibly be deemed healthy? The cat was watching him silently from the divan. He realised that he couldn’t recall a singular instance in which the cat had meowed, or yawned, or made any type of noise. It was off-putting. It wasn’t normal.

Perhaps it was hypocritical of him to feel disconcerted. He had condemned the cat’s owner for having abandoned it, and now here he was, harbouring negative feelings towards the animal solely because of its uncanny nature. Yes, so it may have been peculiar, and unlike any other cat he had met. This cat didn’t eat, didn’t drink, and didn’t seem to exhibit many animalistic instincts. But he wasn’t aggressive. Nor was he easily aggravated, nor skittish. Cunning, yes. Mischievous at times. Overall, he had proved himself to be capable and smart, if a bit unsociable.

But was that true? When it came down to it, he had a penchant for falling asleep in Kaveh’s lap. Perhaps, as a house cat, he had been bred to be dependent on humans for companionship.

Kaveh considered him. “You’re a strange one.” The cat returned his gaze evenly. “But who could just leave you alone like that?”

It was the question he had been mulling over in the back of his mind. The cat was an expensive breed, and its upkeep was likely just as expensive. If the owner had wanted to be rid of him, why not sell him off? If they were desperate, why not drop him off at the animal practice? The cat had clearly been well taken care of, so it seemed a spontaneous decision to abandon him. Perhaps the owner had no choice. But even so…

Why had the cat come to him? There was no refuting this point. It wasn’t a coincidence; the cat had waited outside the house, had wanted to go inside. It had been strange that there were no other neighbourhood cats around. It made it appear as if the cat had no reason to be there. So why?

Perhaps Alhaitham had seen him before. It was true, Kaveh conceded, that he had asked practically every resident in the surrounding area, but not Alhaitham. Despite having his head buried in a book, or being otherwise mentally occupied, during his excursions through the city, he was naturally more observant than most. Even if Alhaitham hadn’t seen this particular cat before, he would undoubtedly have some kind of theory as to its appearance outside of the house.

But if Alhaitham were here, the cat would not be.

Kaveh crouched down, seeking some kind of answer in the ridiculously soft coat of the smug thing. “I hope your new owners are as patient with you as I am.”

The cat peered up from where he was resting his head against Kaveh’s arm. Kaveh recognised that expression.

“Don’t do that. I’m not keeping you. Can you imagine? You’d most likely be stepped on. Not by me, of course.” The expression shifted from imploration to something akin to displeasure. “I know. How terrible to live without regard to other living creatures. But don’t worry about that. You won’t have to live with him. I suppose that’s one definitive positive that’ll come out of being adopted.”

The cat brushed aside his hand, approaching the edge of the divan. He regarded Kaveh with a smouldering intensity. It discomfited him. “Right. Whatever that is, it won’t work. You wouldn’t be happy here, anyway. No one’s here half the time – me especially. Not that it matters. You wouldn’t be allowed in in the first place.”

He rose with effort. The toll of the day had caught up to him, dragging at his limbs. He glanced up at the clock. “Alright. Bedtime.”

The cat continued to stare at him. Really. Did he do anything else? Apparently not. It seemed that he really was dependent on other people for its needs. In that case… Would he be accustomed to sleeping alone? The only time he had witnessed the cat sleeping was on his person, after all.

Kaveh reached towards it tentatively. “Come on. You must be tired, although I’d hardly know why. It’s not like you’ve done anything but sleep all day.”

The cat didn’t seem to agree. He glanced past Kaveh, to the corridor leading to Kaveh’s room, and jumped over Kaveh’s arms. He curled in on himself at the end of the divan.

“Fine. You can stay here. I suppose it must be comfortable enough for you.” Still. Kaveh lingered. What it really be alright to leave him here? The cat hadn’t been comfortable parting from Kaveh earlier in the day. It was one of the only times he had indicated any signs of stress.

Kaveh’s fingers had delved into the cat’s fur on their own accord. The cat’s ear twitched along with his tail, coming to brush against Kaveh’s forearm. “Fine.” Like the cat had convinced him. As if they have been arguing.

He returned to his room for Mehrak, instructing an alarm for ten in the morning. If Alhaitham returned tomorrow, it would be late in the afternoon. Ten gave him plenty of time.

Upon exiting his room, the cat had sat up on the divan, apparently startled. It was a reassuring display of protective instincts, unlike anything else the cat had previously displayed. Kaveh bundled his blanket and pillow onto the divan, causing the cat to jump to the floor. He assembled a makeshift bed for the cat out of a spare blanket towards the end of the divan.

“This is my favourite,” he explained, creating a separation between his blanket with the cat’s. “But this one is soft as well. It’s old, though, so I don’t mind if you scratch at it.”

It was a stifling night, as per the norm in a Sumerian summer. The open windows provided little to no relief, only the amplification of noise from the outside insects. As such, the blankets served as a barrier between sweat-clad skin and the cushion of the divan. “Although, maybe it would be better for you to sleep on the floor to keep cool…”

The cat didn’t answer because he couldn’t. Although, his attention remained unwavering. As such, Kaveh set about creating a nest of spare pillows. “They’re clean enough.” He would have to wash them anyway. The cat didn’t seem convinced, however. “It’s either down there or up here, I’m afraid. I’m not risking you on any other divan.”

The cat conceded, climbing onto the pile of pillows, only to use it as a platform for a jump. He chose the huddle of the old blanket, eyeing Kaveh seemingly for him to approve of the choice. Well, either that, or he was dubious about the placement.

“There’s more than enough room. I won’t kick you off, I promise.” Kaveh leant over to snuff out the candle. The cat remained visible in the dull light stealthing through the windows, painting him a luminescent green. He continued to stand as Kaveh adjusted himself on the divan, assuring as much space from him and the cat as possible. He intended on carrying out his promise, after all. “Are you not tired?”

The cat was still watching him, although he settled into a crouch, his head lowered onto his paws. The light catching on his eyes illuminated their colour. Rather than a steely grey, they were jade-tinged crystal. Or perhaps that was the colour of the windows refracting. “Well, you can do what you’d like. I’m going to sleep.”

So he tried, although it was rather difficult to do so, being astutely aware of being regarded so intently. He must have nodded off at some point, rousing slightly at something itching against his arm. The cat had crawled into the middle section of the divan, his tail brushing against the inside of Kaveh’s wrist. Kaveh lowered his hand to cusp the side of the cat, his tail following suit, curling around Kaveh’s fingers. He remembered being thirsty since he had inadvertently laughed and his throat had resisted him.

Sleep was evidently prioritised. He woke up to the itching of his nose and the sound of Mehrak beeping softly. He started upon opening his eyes. A wide pair of eyes stared back into his. Rationalisation overrode his startlement within a split second. He petted the back of the cat’s head before pushing him, and his tail hovering under his nose, away from his chest.

“You scared me.” His laughter stemmed from his passing fear as he pushed himself upright. The cat perched next to him, unaware of the horror he could inflict onto a slumbering individual. Although, Kaveh received the impression that he was rather pleased with himself. Well, of course. That was a cat’s natural disposition. Unprecedented smugness.

“That’s one way to wake up, I suppose.” The clock read one past ten. The cat leant into Kaveh’s touch. “Did Mehrak wake you? I did program her alarm to have different volume settings, although I suppose your ears are sensitive regardless. Were you trying to wake me up?”

The cat had opened its eyes to look up at him. Kaveh took that as a sign of assent, although he knew it was a ridiculous notion, since, again, the cat couldn’t understand him. “Well, thank you. Although perhaps you can find some alternate method that doesn’t involve instilling fear. Or standing on me. You’re heavy, you know.”

A tail flicked against his arm, and the cat turned away, bounding onto the floor, past the nest of pillows, and to the centre of the living room. He ensured that Kaveh was watching him before taking off once more, heading to the kitchen.

Was he finally hungry? Perhaps he only ate at certain times in the day, and Kaveh had met him after the allotted eating period. It was enough cause to follow him, although Kaveh didn’t particularly take to knowingly being led around by a cat.

Kaveh presented food and water, which once again went ignored. The cat sat by the doorway, eyes trained on Kaveh until he set about making his own breakfast, and then he retreated back to the living room. Kaveh was brewing coffee when he heard a loud slam.

“Hey!” The cat was on the chest of drawers behind Alhaitham’s divan. There was an absence in  the row of books lined against the wall. “I thought I told you. Leave his things alone.”

The cat failed to heed him. In fact, he seemed set on doing the opposite. A paw outstretched towards another book. Kaveh took a step forwards. “Don’t. You. Dare.”

The cat preened. And then the book tilted over the edge. “You!”

The book lay, spread-eagled, on the floor, with another taken hostage beneath it. They were old books. Kaveh only hoped that the spines had always been so creased. No pages were loose, but Alhaitham’s notes hadn’t been so lucky.

He would not raise his voice at a cat. He would not scorn a defenceless creature, even though it had deliberately goaded him. His frustration lodged in his nose where he gripped at it and it flitted against his temples.

Releasing a build-up of air through his nose, he opened his eyes to confirm that the incorrigible creature was pacing around his ankles. Dangerously close to the note papers.

“You don’t seem to realise what’s at risk here.” He resorted to muttering, picking up the papers one by one, flattening out any creased edges. “Either I’ve been hurling his precious books around, or it’s the cat that I’ve given temporary residence to in his house without permission. Just because you’ll have somewhere to live at the end of this, doesn’t mean I’ll be so lucky.”

He didn’t really believe this, however. Alhaitham had yet to kick him out, even though as the house owner, he had every right to. Despite him keeping the house in order and consistently righting Alhaitham’s bachelor habits, imposing on Alhaitham’s highly regarded status quo, Alhaitham hadn’t ever truly opposed him. Even though Alhaitham didn’t particularly care for animals, he hadn’t explicitly banned them from the house. Perhaps because he never had reason to but that didn’t mean Kaveh would so wantonly cross a potential boundary.

If Alhaitham were here, Kaveh would still have kept the cat – temporarily, of course – but he would have housed him solely in his room. In that case, he supposed it didn’t make much difference whether Alhaitham knew about the circumstance or not. Kaveh’s room was only ever used by himself alone, with express permission that he could do whatever he wanted with it; it was no concern of Alhaitham’s. The cat would be out of Alhaitham’s way, and that was what mattered.

The cat in question had neglected winding himself around Kaveh’s ankles, seemingly have lost interest in Kaveh entirely.

“Hey.” Kaveh sat cross-legged on the rug, nudging the cat closer to him. He ignored the contact with a flick of his tail, staring instead at the notes rather than Kaveh. “Yes, I was angry with you, but I’m significantly less so now. Perhaps I’m more frustrated that I can’t seem to understand you. Maybe you’re frustrated with that, too.”

The cat brushed past his hand, crawling onto his lap, butting his head against the hand which held the papers. Kaveh enclosed the cat in his lap, drawing the papers towards him. “You’re a real scholar, aren’t you? You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if you understood what these said.”

His petting of the cat went forgotten as he read on. Why had Alhaitham revisited elements of their thesis?

He was missing the key context. Reaching upwards, he procured the books he had placed onto the drawers. He settled with his back against them, drawer handles poking into shoulder blades, massaging at the tender points.

He hadn’t recognised one of the books despite being intimate with its contents. Ancient architecture was a broad subject, despite the limited amount of definitive knowledge accumulated on the topic. But ancient architecture in relation to god worshipping? Why was Alhaitham interested in this? Considering his own views on the gods – a necessary element of the natural hierarchy, but not one to prioritise – it was strange. Not that much of anything Alhaitham did could be considered ‘normal’, but this was far outside the realm of what Alhaitham was typically curious about that Kaveh was stumped.

More than this, however, he couldn’t quell that surge of frustration. Why hadn’t Alhaitham come to him? They had discussed this topic more than enough times for Kaveh to prove his familiarity with it – wasn’t that the primary reason why Alhaitham had focussed on it when Kaveh had left it to him to pick the topic of their research?

Alhaitham may dislike Kaveh’s ideals, he might ridicule his decision-making process, criticise his problem-solving ability, might generally hold Kaveh in a negative light, but Kaveh could not see that Alhaitham held doubt of his intellect. Despite it all, despite their innate incompatibility, their inability to share the same views, their penchant for clashing on all fronts, Kaveh understood Alhaitham as an intellectual. He saw Alhaitham’s genius, his capabilities, his potentiality. It was ultimately the differing of their potentialities which was where their strife lay.

He didn’t understand why Alhaitham couldn’t just spare a little more. Whether it be for the better or worse, Kaveh was better able to understand others after his encounter with Alhaitham. Alhaitham had changed him, had broadened his worldview, his approach to life, and he knew all too well that he had introduced his contradictory approaches to Alhaitham. They had fallen apart, yes, but in their time together, Alhaitham had impressed upon him, and try as he may, there was no reversing that. Alhaitham had spared part of himself for Kaveh once, and yet he seemed to withhold from others. Where was the objectivity in that? He had proven he was capable of giving, bestowing knowledge, admonitions, and warmth. He held all the potential to improve the lives of others, yet, unless he gained in return, he simply refused to.

Perhaps he was deterred – because of what he had seen in Kaveh. That potentially innate selfishness to please, to provide for others at the sake of oneself- No. Alhaitham had always been himself. It was an act of selfishness in itself to presume that he had affected Alhaitham just as Alhaitham had affected him.

In that way, it made sense why Alhaitham hadn’t consulted him. What would Kaveh be able to supply that Alhaitham couldn’t provide for himself?

Still.

“You’re both strange.” The cat was warm beneath his hand. And heavy. He stretched out his knees to stand, causing the cat to jump to the side. “You’d be perfect for each other.”

He regarded the notes once more before sliding them into their designated pages. The chosen positioning of ancient structures… prominently where Ley Lines are found in the modern era… Ley Lines again.

So was it a Spantamad-Kshahrewar-Haravatat thesis? He snorted at the thought. Ridiculous.

The cat stared intently up at him. He remembered what he was doing before being distracted. “You. With me.” He wasn’t risking leaving the cat alone in the living room again.

After breakfast and a revitalising mug of coffee, it was nearing noon. He set about tidying the litter tray, merely moving it into his room as it had been unused. He stared haplessly at the divans; the blankets; the pillows. Besides the telltale strands of blond, everything was hairless. As if to rub it in, the cat tread serenely over the blanket. Kaveh glared at him. He packed up the bedding with a ferocity comprised of the frustration that had been mounting ever since late yesterday afternoon.

“In.” Kaveh directed the cat into his room. “You’ve proven you can’t be trusted to be alone out here.”

The cat refused, unmoving from where he sat outside of the doorway. Kaveh eyed him warily. “I’ll pick you up.” It was a threat.

The cat outstretched one paw, as if in a half-hearted stretch, only to pad the floor. Kaveh’s scepticalness dissolved into slowly creeping fear. I’ll stay here. That was what the cat had just said to him. Conveyed, not said. The cat hadn’t spoken.

But it had understood him.

Kaveh stood frozen in the doorway as the cat curled around itself, batting its tail against the floor, peeking at Kaveh with a lazy eye. Oh. So now it was a normal cat.

Kaveh shut the door behind him, and when he emerged, ready for the day, he had left behind notions of cats understanding human language. The cat had stayed by the doorway. Not out of obligation, but because it was a cat, and cats were notoriously lazy.

“Come on.” Kaven toed at him. The cat brushed aside his attempts with his tail. “In. You’re a house cat, so you should be able to handle being alone in the day. I’ll get you food and water in case you remember your instinctive needs, and I’ll come back to get you tonight to take you to the practice. I’m not having you alone out here, especially not when Alhaitham gets back. So. In.”

The cat merely glanced up at him, finding more entertainment in fastening his tail around Kaveh’s ankle. “Look, I can’t stay here with you. I have meetings today. You understand, right?”

The cat did not understand. He refused to move from where Kaveh was scooting him with his foot. Clearly, he was flexing every muscle to remain stationary. He was left with no choice. He leant to scoop the cat into his arms, only for the cat to illude him, jumping straight out of his arms and disappearing swiftly down the hall.

He was waiting by the entry way. “This is ridiculous. I can’t take you with me to my meetings.”

Although now he had said it… Why not? It wouldn’t have been the first time that his meetings had been interrupted by the arrival of a stampede of eager cats seeking him for food or attention. He had apologised profusely to his clients, only for them to be endeared by the unexpected arrivals, or entirely non-plussed, focussing only on the designs in front of them.

The cat could just sit somewhere nearby. He would be quiet and well-behaved. This was what Kaveh told him anyway, as he watched Kaveh adorn his cape and shoes.

The conditions proved effective, for the most part. The two meetings he had arranged at Puspa’s Café passed by without a hitch – on the cat-front, that is. The house cat sat on the wall, facing Kaveh, although halfway through the second meeting, he had soldiered his way through the increasing gaggle of cats and ended up curled around Kaveh’s ankles.

The client didn’t notice any of this, however, as she was struggling with her indecision as to the expansion of her house. In terms of clients, she fell into the general uncertain bracket, in which they believed they knew what they wanted, until they were told that what they asked for was rather vague and nondescript. These were the clients who could either pull out of negotiations entirely, overwhelmed by choice and content with settling with what they already had, or they developed into, regrettably, terrible sticklers who questioned his every prompt or decision, despite not understanding his reasoning why. This client, however, seemed at odds with someone else other than him for once. Although this was also inconvenient since this person –her brother – wasn’t present for any of the discussions, and therefore she struggled to make decisions on both their fronts.

When he suggested she wait until his return from Liyue before making any considerable alteration decisions, she told him that she wanted to surprise him with housing improvements due to him often complaining about the state of their parents’ house. When directing her away from expansion and instead focussing on improving what already existed, she deliberated, saying that her brother liked some things, but she couldn’t be entirely certain as to what.

It was the second meeting of this nature. Kaveh steeled himself, felt the soft, heavy weight on his feet, and told her that it would be best for both of them if they recommenced this commission once her brother was available to give his definitive opinion. Rather than annoyed at his position, she seemed rather grateful. She told him that it was a weight off her shoulders, since her brother was the one who knew about ‘this kind of stuff’. Kaveh struggled to convey his sincerity at this point as the damnable housecat had jumped onto his lap, overtaking Beyaz, who was the regular offender of this kind.

They parted ways with the promise of a future commission, and Kaveh was left at the mercy of seven mewing cats, who all sought their turn on his lap.

“This is getting ridiculous.” He was walking through Treasures Street, pursued by multiple cats, some jumping onto merchant’s stalls, some following the walls, some streaking out in front of him. The housecat was in his arms, yes, but that was only because he had refused to part from Kaveh’s lap without a forced removal. Had that been part of the conniving nuisance’s plan? Indubitably. But still. He did make for an endearing sight, huddled to his chest like that. A voluminous ball of grey fur. But that wouldn’t be enough to win him over.

“Kaveh.”

If Cyno were surprised by the number of cats that Kaveh had amassed, it was nothing compared to the surprise they all enacted when Kaveh stopped to converse with his friend.

“Don’t pay attention to them.” Cyno had regarded each meow of protest from the surrounding pests. “It’s just giving them what they want, believe me.” They began to pool around Kaveh’s feet before mitigating to Cyno.

“You speak from experience.” Cyno was staring at the cat in Kaveh’s arms, whose interest seemed to have piqued. He had sat up somewhat in Kaveh’s arms, ears twitching, before burrowing back into Kaveh’s chest.

There was no coming back from being caught out. “Some are more incorrigible than others. Anyway. It’s good to see you. What brings you here? Did you need something from me?”

“It’s good to see you, too.” Cyno appeared to be distracted by the cats pawing at his ankles. It was a determining sign that Cyno wasn’t here on business. “I wanted to ask, has Alhaitham returned from the desert?”

He was wrong. “Alhaitham?”

“The Grand Conservator has been enquiring after his whereabouts. Apparently some Spantamad scholars have been… demanding.” Cyno’s fingers were twitching at his sides. Two cats had plastered themselves to his shins, reaching to be pet.

“I haven’t been home to check. What do you mean by ‘demanding’?”

Cyno regarded him evenly, although Kaveh had the distinct feeling that his friend’s interest had been swayed by the conglomerate of fur gathered around his ankles. “There’s a new topic of interest highly revered right now, but the materials for pursuing it have been checked out by Alhaitham. A few things stand out to me as strange. I want to look over this new research direction before allowing any documents to further circulate. According to his field project application, I surmised that he should have returned by now.”

“Perhaps he’s carried away with his research, or whatever reason he found himself out there. I can’t claim to understand how his mind works.” The cat’s fur truly was divine. He would miss it when he was gone. Not the cat, of course, but his fur. Cyno continued watching him steadily. He had forgotten himself, seeking comfort in the weighty bundle in his arms. “I’m heading back now anyway. I have a feeling I know what documents you’re referring to. Why don’t you join me?”

Alhaitham was missing. He knew this before circling through the Grand Bazaar to shake off the cats tailing them, he knew before even reaching the house. The foreboding increased tenfold when the cat voluntarily jumped from his arms when attempting to pass him over to Cyno in order to reach his keys.

“He’s not here.” Alhaitham’s boots were missing by the door and the tell-tale traces of sand that were stubbornly trod into the rug were non-existent.

“May I?” Kaveh assented to Cyno’s request without thought. The General Mahamatra would assuredly be better suited to these matters than he.

“Did his application give a specific location?” The cat had found its way back into Kaveh’s arms again. He stood in the centre of the living room as Cyno returned from Alhaitham’s room. He felt displaced. The cat gave him weight, substance.

“It specified the Hypostyle Desert.” Cyno deliberated. The cat’s ears twitched. “It would be better to contact the inn in Aaru Village directly, that way we can affirm whether Alhaitham is currently on grounds.”

Kaveh agreed, electing to place the cat onto his designated divan in order to fetch letter paper and an inkwell. Cyno wrote a perfunctory message, requiring a yes or no in response as to whether Alhaitham was on the property. After which, Kaveh supplied him with the notes that the cat had once knocked onto the floor.

“I’m not sure if it entirely aligns with this new Spantamad research direction unless it also has to do with Kshahrewar’s study of ancient structures.” Kaveh had pointed out the obscurity around elements of their joint research project being present in Alhaitham’s notes.

“Either way, it’s likely relevant to Alhaitham’s chosen location. There are several ancient structures in the Hypostyle Desert. May I take these notes?” Kaveh consented, after all, Alhaitham had left them in a book that was inherently relevant to the two of them. Besides, if he had any complaints, perhaps he shouldn’t have wandered into the desert to be present in order to voice them.

“Do you have any idea why he would be interested in these particular Spantamad research materials? Did it intersect with his field project?” Kaveh asked Cyno on the way to the door.

“On the surface, no – studying Ancient Runes has been the same specification on his last few applications. I do know that the current trends in my darshan have encouraged collaboration with Haravatat, however, so perhaps it’s not so unusual. What stands out to me is this topic being of particular interest of Lord Kusanali.”

Lord Kusanali? The cat jolted in his arms. He must have been squeezing too hard. Was this yet another scheme incorporating the gods which Alhaitham had involved himself with?

“Don’t trouble yourself, Kaveh. Perhaps his delayed return stems from his dedication to the project.” Cyno had placed a hand on his shoulder. “Regardless, all precautions will be carried out. I’ll update you as soon as I can.”

“Thank you.” And then Cyno was gone and Kaveh was left alone.

Not alone. The cat was staring upwards at him. Perhaps his evident concern was a stressor for such a dependent animal. “It seems you got your wish. You won’t have to be confined to my room – as disgusting as it is to you.”

He had designs to finish, notes to finesse and expand upon, and then he was overviewing that guest speaker’s notes for that interview he had given. But these things seemed so distant to him. It all came back to him on the divan, the clock ticking on, and the cat an indispensable warmth in his arms.

What was Alhaitham playing at? Disappearing into the desert with a mysterious fanfare, checking out highly sought after notes not pertaining to him? It were as if he were trying to elicit a response, like a child goading someone into playing hide and seek with them. The idea wasn’t as preposterous as it first seemed, even though he had snorted aloud at it. Alhaitham, whilst deeply rooted in pragmatism and rationality, was actually, at his core, just a tall child.

Sure, he was level-headed and driven by a clear-headed sense of logic; he had mastered an incomprehensible number of topics based solely on written contradiction after contradiction; and he knew how to deconstruct a fragment of an extinct language into bare essentials to provide base grammar rules and vocabulary, which unveiled an era of history that had previously went mostly unaccounted for.

But he was petty. He always had to have the last word – not so much so with others, fortunately for them, but with Kaveh he was insufferable. He constantly had to one-up him. He deliberately goaded Kaveh, got some twisted enjoyment out of bewildering him. Alhaitham’s go-to counters would always be some irrefutable fact or something entirely sarcastic. Alhaitham thought he was funny. Somehow, this was worse than Cyno’s tenuous grasp on humour. At least Cyno was earnest about it, but Alhaitham conducted his ‘humour’ in such an under-handed, dry way that it rendered it ill-fashioned. And he knew this, which made him proud. He was utterly arrogant, too, and he did nothing about this personality fault, despite how often Kaveh pointed it out to him – which, of course, only increased this arrogance tenfold.

He was hopeless with chores, too. At least, this is the image of himself he wanted Kaveh to believe of him. But he was inherently organised in his chaos. He had frequented Alhaitham’s office within the Akademiya many a time, and despite how often he commented (complained) on the number of admissions he was tasked to peruse through, they all seemed to be stored away, besides those stacked on his desk (in alphabetical order!). He had only been inside Alhaitham’s room the few times that Alhaitham had pointed out the dust in his room when Kaveh was handling the chores. Perhaps it had been a joke, some side effect of Alhaitham’s twisted humour, but Kaveh didn’t bother taking it as such. He was well versed with how dust could sink into carpet fibres and thus had no choice but to inspect the rug in Alhaitham’s room.

Alhaitham kept his own room clean. Alhaitham washed the dishes and put them back. Alhaitham wiped the table once he was done eating. Alhaitham handled the upkeep when Kaveh was gone. Even when Kaveh had first moved in, the house was in decent shape, besides his room, which had been kitted out as a bedroom, no sign of being used for storage, meaning that it had gone unused and was coated in dust. Alhaitham deemed himself unfit for basic maintenance, however, only when Kaveh was involved. And then he became practically useless, requiring a demonstration on how to properly polish a surface.

It was all maddening. It was all Alhaitham.

Why hadn’t he told Kaveh where he was going? Why didn’t they share these things with each other?

The answer was imminent; it would always be there no matter how much or how little he ruminated on these questions. The two were not concerned for the other. Their lives, although intersected in the house, were not otherwise contingent. Alhaitham had no business in Kaveh’s affairs, therefore Kaveh had no business in Alhaitham’s. They had long since denied this of each other. Regaining this would only be achievable through mutual trust. It was an impossibility. Alhaitham was impossible. But he was irksomely, stubbornly, persistently, always there, at Kaveh’s convenience or not. But now he wasn’t.

How maudlin of him. It wasn’t certain that anything had happened to Alhaitham, and his reasoning stood in conjunction with what he had said to Cyno; perhaps Alhaitham really had been carried away with his research, as he was wont to do. It was premature, and unnecessary, to be dwelling on hypotheticals. Alhaitham was fine. He had no reason to think otherwise. He would be patient until news arrived.

When would that be?

The late afternoon had long since dragged itself into evening. Surely he had something productive to be doing rather than sitting around idly, clutching at a house cat?

“The practice!” The cat startled in his arms with his abrupt announcement. “How could I forget…? You. Stay here.” He placed the cat onto the divan, who stood watching him.

He set about assembling the supplies that Jazmyn had gifted him, packing away the borrowed cat feed, the unused bottle feeder, the pristine litter tray. The cat had disobeyed him, but he was too accustomed to this to be surprised, and instead sat before the threshold of Kaveh’s room.

“Right! Let’s go and get you a new home.” He made to leave, but was barred from doing so by the cat blocking the exit from his room. “Oh no. We’re not doing this again. I’m not keeping you! I’d be a terrible owner.”

The cat merely darted to the left, blocking Kaveh from making an escape route. He gazed upwards with that familiar expression of imploration. Kaveh paused in his escape with a groan. It was incredibly vexing how distressed that expression made him feel.

“Seriously?” Kaveh resorted to a crouch to meet the cat’s eyeline. “You don’t eat my food, you don’t drink my water, you don’t like my roommate’s books – which I introduced him to, by the way, so they’re technically mine by extension – and you don’t like my room. All you like to do is crawl over me and pick a fight. You can do that with anyone, you know. I’m not special in that regard.”

The cat seemed obstinate in the opinion that Kaveh was incorrect. His tail curled around Kaveh’s hand. Kaveh drew away with a sigh. “No convincing you, huh? Well, unfortunately, I’m just as stubborn as you – if not more. So, come on.”

Kaveh picked the cat up, caging him in his arms so as to prevent an escape. The cat writhed desperately, a heart-wrenching attempt to flee. Kaveh couldn’t do it. He dropped the cat onto the divan. “This isn’t easy for me, either!”

The cat had plastered himself on the other end of the divan, settling into a crouch, regarding Kaveh with wary eyes. He would be immovable, Kaveh knew this. The cat had clearly chosen him as a new owner. To give him away now would only cause further distress. But that was only because the cat hadn’t experienced the love another person could bestow onto him. Yet how could Kaveh guarantee this in his new home?

It was a fruitless endeavour. He folded against the opposite end of the divan, gladdened when the cat hadn’t moved out of caution. “I can’t keep you. Even if you were to live here, it wouldn’t be fair on you to be shut up in my room all the time. At the end of the day, this isn’t my house. It wouldn’t be fair on Alhaitham either.”

Where was Alhaitham? It was getting later and later. Should Cyno have heard back from the Aaru Village inn? Or had there been no response? Perhaps he should pen a letter of his own? And what, demand an absent Alhaitham to reply to him?

There remained a stagnation in him ever since Cyno had told him of Alhaitham’s interest in Spantamad. His mind flitted back to the notes that he had found. What did Ley Lines have to do with Ancient Runes which Alhaitham didn’t already know? How did Kshahrewar play into it? What was Alhaitham playing at, disappearing into the desert?

“It would be a lot simpler if he were here to give his opinion.” It would be a lot simpler if he were here in order to solve the issue that threatened to become all-encompassing as the second hand ticked on.

The cat sat up from its crouch, eyes trained on Kaveh. Kaveh watched him bound from the divan, across the table, and then onto the divan opposite. There, he perched, regarding Kaveh with that same even stare.

“Hey! What have I said about leaving his things alone?” Kaveh went to manoeuvre the cat, on the floor, on the table, anywhere but Alhaitham’s currently pristine divan. The fiend had other ideas, as usual, and dropped onto the floor.

Before Kaveh could stop him, the cat had fled from him, out of the living room, down the corridor. Alhaitham’s room?

It was bizarre. The little pest had never shown any interest in that segment of the corridor before. Kaveh found him sitting outside of Alhaitham’s closed door. The cat’s tail flicked upwards upon seeing Kaveh, and then used his tail to sweep against the door.

“There’s nothing for you in there.” He was exasperated. Was this a drawn out attempt of distracting Kaveh from their pending separation? But, truly, how could the cat even know Kaveh’s intentions? The cat couldn’t understand him.

But that notion was long past settling easily within him. It felt wrong to believe that this cat couldn’t understand what he was saying. Not even that. It really seemed as if the cat comprehended his intentions, his moods, his thought processes.

The cat continued to swipe his tail across the floor outside of Alhaitham’s room. Kaveh approached him slowly, as if the weight of the cat’s gaze was staggering him. He knew that there was some meaning to this erratic behaviour, but he couldn’t fully push aside the fact that this was a cat. Cats did not have humanistic cognitive functions and understandings.

Gaze unwavering, the cat outstretched one paw, placed it onto the floor, and then began to move it. With every step, the shape that was unmistakeably being traced onto the floor became less and less abstract.

The floor dug against his knees. The cat was capable of human language, his language. The cat could understand him. The cat had deliberately sought him out. The cat was-

“Alhaitham?” The name was unintelligible to his ears.

The cat only stared back at him, as if he hadn’t just spelt out the name of Kaveh’s roommate on the floor. “Oh, come on, don’t do this to me. I’m talking to a cat! If you really are Alhaitham, you can prove it to me. You can – oh, you can blink twice!”

The fact that the cat could spell caught up with him when the cat shot him a particularly displeased stare. “Oh, don’t give me that. Need I remind you, you’re a cat?”

Whether his reminder was the ultimate persuasion, he didn’t know, what he did know was that the cat made a ceremony of straightening upright, looking him in the eye for a beat too long, and then blinking. Once. Twice. And then he went into a crouch, looking up at Kaveh with those widened eyes. Familiar eyes.

Kaveh was being goaded.

It only registered once he grabbed the cat (Alhaitham, but he couldn’t fully process this, so he wouldn’t for now). “This is no time to be difficult! You’re a cat! We have to get you help!”

But the cat deplored this notion. He clung to the floor, or attempted to, claws outstrethced and scratching with particular vehemence. “Hey!” Kaveh held him up, his body hanging low and limbs tensing. “This is your floor, you know!”

And then he comprehended what had just happened. “Hold on – you don’t want to get help?” The cat’s body became lax, and he stared back at Kaveh with disinterest. Kaveh resisted the urge to shake him. “This is ridiculous! I’m not arguing with a cat! I don’t care if you just so happen to be Alhaitham. I’m getting you help whether you like it or not.”

With that, he hoisted the cat under his arm and took off for the door. His shoes were an afterthought as he doubled back before leaving the house. The cat lay slack in his arm for the first hurried part of his journey, until he registered a few passersby staring at the gormless thing with expressive concern.

With much contempt did he right his carrying of the cat, tucking it to his chest. “If you don’t like it, too bad. You didn’t leave me much option.” The cat didn’t seem to care either way, unmoving and complicit. It remained a bundle of useless fur in his arms as he reached the platform leading to the Akademiya.

He was stopped by two Corps of Thirty, as he had been yesterday, which shook him out of his frantic reverie. He inquired after Cyno’s whereabouts, only to be told that if he wanted to speak with the General Mahamatra, he would first have to put down the cat.

He dithered. He could acquiesce and demand the cat to wait by the entrance as he stormed inside, looking for Cyno – but the cat had made it clear that he was uninterested in obtaining help. What if he wandered off?

This cat. His bane. He glared down at the idle cat in his arms, to which the cat stiffened at. Ultimately, his decision of what to do was made for him as the cat sat upright – to jump onto the ground. Before he could begin to reprimand his behaviour, the cat raced past the guards to the top of the platform.

“Hey!” But the cat refused to heed the call of his pursuers, even started moving at a leisurely pace, before turning the corner and disappearing from view.

“You. Stay here.” Kaveh didn’t appreciate being spoken to like how he scolded the cat, but there was nothing he could say to defend himself as the remaining guard left his post to round up other stationed guards.

The guard returned within the minute, pinning Kaveh to his spot with a glare. Kaveh was left to button and unbutton the cuffs of his sleeves, eventually unheeding the guard’s displeasure to begin pacing. What if this was the cat’s dash for freedom? What if the cat was captured and a separation was forced upon them? What if this was all a mad, disillusioned dream – dreams which he had yet to become accustomed to, so that it was virtually impossible to distinguish them from reality?

The sight of a guard marching down the platform squandered any possible hope he had for redemption. Had Cyno taken leave? Perhaps to Aaru Village? Was he going to be imprisoned, if only temporarily, for inadvertently forsaking such an inconsequential rule of no animals on the grounds?

“The General Mahamatra has requested Mr. Kaveh’s presence.” This statement alleviated the begrudging stares that were shot at Kaveh upon his ascension to the Akademiya.

He was escorted, in an unnerving silence, to Cyno’s office, where the guard was dismissed. “I believe this is yours,” Cyno said to him once the door was closed.

The usual revered office space went forgotten in favour of the cat crouched on the desk. “This is where you went? I thought that you couldn’t be bothered to find help.”

The cat flicked his tail in response, which Kaveh equated to that of a shrug. He was filled with a surge of fury, but also with an equally palpable urge to bring the cat to this chest once more.

Cyno looked from Kaveh to the cat. “I did wonder earlier, but there were more pressing concerns. I was going to see you once everything had been validated, so it’s good that you came when you did, although I can’t say I understand your method.”

“I’m sorry to inconvenience you and the Corps of Thirty. But I can assure you that this wasn’t my method. He ran ahead before I could stop him.” With his annoyance placated, his newly found discovery was free to rear its head. He grabbed the cat before he could flee, thrust him front of Cyno. “It’s about Alhaitham.”

Cyno seemed taken aback by Kaveh’s ferocity, taking in the view of the limp cat and Kaveh’s flustered demeanour. With a certain hesitance, he placed his hand over the cat’s head, scratching tentatively.

“Yes. As I said, I was waiting for confirmation… But there’s been no sign of Alhaitham in Aaru Village since he set off yesterday afternoon. I’ve arranged for the Corps of Thirty stationed in Caravan Ribat to look for further details as to where he may be in the desert based on his research project application, but I thought it would be beneficial to remain here in the meantime. I have a feeling I’m missing something. How would a field project about Ancient Runes intersect with Ley Lines…?”

Because he’s a cat. Kaveh couldn’t say it. He couldn’t say it because it didn’t answer Cyno’s question, but also because he would have to say it aloud and he would hear himself say the words.

The cat began to protest, either from being petted or from being hung from Kaveh’s hands like filo-pastry. Cyno’s gaze was distant as Kaveh regarded him intently, tucking the cat once more against his chest unthinkingly. Alhaitham appeared to be set on perplexing everyone who cared about him apparently.

“Cyno,” Kaveh called, because he had to say something. “I think I know where Alhaitham is.”

“You have a lead?” Cyno’s alertness caused something to fold within him. He was shame-faced as he looked down at the stubborn thing in his arms looking back at him like he knew the amount of turmoil Kaveh was in, and was impartial to it all.

“Well, not as such…” How was he going to do this? The cat blinked back at him before unfurling his tail, brushing it against Kaveh’s hands. He truly wasn’t taking this seriously, was he? Kaveh knew there was no other way around it. “Rather than a lead, I think I’ve found him.”

“You know where he is?” Cyno stepped forwards, and it took all Kaveh had not to step back out of instinct once facing the full brunt of his friend’s intensity.

“Cyno…” The cat brushed his tail against Kaveh’s face, tickling against his nose – just as he had done to get Kaveh to wake up this morning. Oh. Alhaitham was diabolical. “He’s here.”

Cyno regarded him and Kaveh could practically see the tether ends of distaste unfurl in his eyes. He felt vaguely like he was on the other end of an interrogation and was one bad joke as a type of defence away from cracking. He couldn’t blame Cyno. The situation was ultimately one bad joke, through and through.

“He’s…” Kaveh reached for the tail and caught it in his palm. It was so ridiculous, he felt the air trail out of him. “He’s the cat, Cyno.”

If Cyno was at all affected by the absurdity of the statement, he didn’t express it. Kaveh and the cat were regarded without judgement – without anything, really. Total impartiality. That in itself was more unnerving. It invalidated his own reaction to the discovery. It couldn’t be that he had overreacted?

“Alhaitham… is your cat?” It was an expression without discernment, spoken only to receive clarification.

“Yes – although he’s not my cat.” The cat in question peered up at him, and this time Kaveh knew that those eyes were definitely narrowed. Kaveh decided to ignore this micro-aggression in favour of pitching his case to his friend. “He showed up outside of the house yesterday afternoon and refused to leave. It took him until today to bother spelling his name for me. How do we – how do I fix this?”

Cyno seemed to have satisfied the assessment of the situation. He held open the office door. “Come with me.”