Chapter Text
He almost screamed when the creature slowly emerged from the bushes. But it wasn’t a monster at all—it was a boy.
******
At the age of seven, Isagi Yoichi was truly a well-behaved child. Too obedient, even. To the point where he couldn’t bring himself to act out just because a toy was too loud or because being mischievous seemed too much trouble. He preferred spending time watching TV with his favorite stuffed animal—or more accurately, rewatching the same Quidditch match so many times that it was practically gaining sentience and would probably self-destruct from overwork if it could.
But Isagi Yoichi was still a child. And sometimes, children could be quite stubborn.
"I don’t wanna go there," Isagi whined, clinging onto his stuffed lobster like it was his last hope. "I’ll stay home and be good, I promise! I can eat cereal instead of rice and go to bed on time, I swear!"
Iyo sighed, feeling helpless against her son’s sudden disobedience. "You can’t eat cereal for all three meals a day for an entire week, sweetheart. And I can’t leave you with relatives, they’re too busy and…"—and some cousins would bully you, she wanted to say, but held back.
"But the outside world is scary…" he pouted, burying his face into his stuffed animal. He was on the verge of sniffling when, out of nowhere, Issei swooped in and lifted him into the air.
Isagi yelped—but in an excited way. "Dad!!!"
"If you stay home alone, ghosts will come and take you away," Issei said, pulling a scary face to spook him.
But Isagi only pouted. "I’m not scared of Uncle Kenji. He died wearing Norwegian Dragon print boxers. I’d laugh in his face before he could even grab me."
He was only seven, but he knew he was more mature than people gave him credit for. Adults loved to tease kids, but they had some seriously questionable tastes themselves. Dragon-print underwear? Even four-year-old Isagi would’ve cringed at that.
At those words, his parents' smiles froze instantly. It took Iyo a long moment to find her voice again. "Who… told you about Uncle Kenji?" she asked hesitantly.
That was when the little boy realized he had walked right into a trap. Knowing he couldn’t admit to eavesdropping on his parents' conversation about Uncle Kenji’s funeral while sneaking cookies in the kitchen, he anxiously glanced to the side. "Someone," he mumbled.
He just didn’t understand why Uncle Kenji had passed away alone in a motel room, in dragon-print boxers, discovered by some random woman. Was he secretly on vacation?
Isagi wasn’t good at lying. But at that moment, he was too young to realize it. His parents exchanged a long look before sighing.
Issei narrowed his eyes and nodded knowingly. "So, you stayed up late watching Noa’s Quidditch match, snuck cookies, and eavesdropped on us?"
"... I’m sorry."
"Then your punishment is staying home," his father said.
Isagi’s eyes instantly lit up like a spotlight. He hadn’t expected such a wonderful punishment—until his dad continued. "While your mom and I go to Germany to visit our friends. Who knows? Maybe we’ll run into Noa and take pictures for you."
It was like a bomb went off in his brain. The seven-year-old’s mouth fell open, his mind shaking as if a Norwegian Dragon was wreaking havoc inside his skull. He was too stunned to speak—and when he was sure he had heard correctly...
He burst into tears.
***
Three hours before departure, Isagi was still sniffling. He clutched his stuffed lobster tightly, despite his father repeatedly apologizing for what had been, in his words, a "barbaric" and "cruel" joke—direct quote from the child himself.
"What exactly has Yoichi been reading? How does he even know words like that?" Issei whispered to Iyo. "He literally said, 'You’ve shattered my heart, and I shall never recover from this suffering!'—Is he quoting Shakespeare?"
"You always blame my Muggle world, but surprise, Yoichi’s been reading wizarding fairy tales lately and picked up the language from there."
"You’re also a witch, honey."
"Oh? So suddenly my Muggle side isn’t that important anymore?" Iyo teased, rolling her eyes but grinning. "I still love you, though."
"... I finally know where Yoichi gets his sharp tongue from, but we will leave in ten minutes and Yoichi still crying, what do we do?"
"I don’t know. Use Noa’s name again? Said that we might run into him, even though our friends live in a completely different city? Find him a new friend or a new hobby in Germany?"
"Our highest success rate is with sweets. But I don’t know if Germany even has good desserts. The people there are usually… cold and strict…" Issei mused.
"Dad, you’re stariotyping Germans!" a small voice interrupted.
Issei’s eyes widened. "You see?! He even knows the word stereotyping!"
"Our little boy is a genius!" Iyo’s eyes sparkled—before narrowing as she turned serious. "And a very naughty boy for eavesdropping on adults!"
"I wasn’t eavesdropping! You guys were talking too loud!"
Then the little boy sulked, hugging his stuffed animal and retreating to a far corner. The Isagi couple exchanged another glance, this time filled with worry.
Ever since he was a baby, Isagi had been more sensitive than most kids. He was easily overwhelmed, afraid of everything—sometimes even his own crying startled him. The buzzing of a mosquito was enough to keep him up all night.
He never wanted to go out. Even as he grew older and became a little braver, Isagi still didn’t like leaving home—unless it was to play Quidditch.
And he had no friends. He didn’t need friends, he had said, because no one wanted to play with him anyway. Isagi preferred sitting quietly, reading books and watching TV, while other boys liked playing war games. The girls, on the other hand, didn’t want a boy in their group.
Quidditch could have helped him make friends—if he weren’t too good at it. "Playing with Isagi is no fun. He catches the Snitch in less than ten minutes!" And so, no one wanted to play with him anymore.
The Isagi couple hadn’t expected to deal with a rebellious child—they had a much bigger issue on their hands. Their child was the opposite of that.
Even so, they couldn’t force Isagi to do something he hated. Their little boy was more sensitive than most, and all they could do was accept it—and find a way to live with it.
***
"Do you have your water and snacks? You’ll get hungry… Yocchan, come here so I can put sunscreen on you!" Iyo fussed, running her hands through her hair in frustration. If she hadn’t already been lectured three nights ago about how safe Germany was and how Isagi needed to learn independence, she would’ve just dropped everything to cling to him till the trip ended.
"I already show him how. Our Yocchan is really smart, huh?" Issei ruffled his son's hair, making it an absolute mess.
Isagi pouted. "I'm a big kid now—Dad, you messed up my hair again!"
His parents were always busy. With grown-up things like hosting parties, dealing with the dreaded "taxes," or meeting important people. Isagi knew that. So, being a good (and big!) boy, he volunteered to play by himself at the park right next to their house, so they wouldn't have to worry about him being lonely at home.
"And remember, you mustn’t talk about magic with anyone."
"I know, I won’t play with anyone," he replied. But then his parents exchanged a look and pressed their lips together in sadness. Isagi didn’t understand grown-up feelings at all.
***
Today was Isagi’s first day in Germany, but he already knew the next few days would be long and boring. Noa had gone to France for a Quidditch match, so coming all the way here only to miss him felt like a waste.
Everything in Germany, unfortunately, was exactly as his dad described. The air was always crisp and cold, and the people all seemed distant and unapproachable. But on the bright side, no one here liked unnecessary noise or bothering others for no reason, which meant Isagi could enjoy his alone time in peace.
Even if he was lo—He wasn’t lonely! Isagi scrunched up his face, hugging his stuffed bear tightly. To prove it, he reached into his backpack and pulled out Quidditch Through the Ages, flipping it open for the thousandth time. I’m not lonely, he thought to himself, convinced that if he repeated it like a magic spell, it would eventually become true.
Why didn’t anyone want to play with him? Was it because he was scared of loud noises? Because he only liked Quidditch? Because he preferred reading about legendary wizards over playing tag? Would he be lonely forever? If no one loved him—Mom and Dad loved him, of course, but they had each other. And him… He had no one.
After sniffling (he wasn’t crying), Isagi’s stomach growled, reminding him that he should eat something. Sitting quietly on a park bench, he took out the lunch his mom had packed. The rice balls smelled delicious, perfectly round and plump. Isagi opened his mouth wide, ready to take a bite—
—when a rustling sound came from the bushes nearby.
His heart pounded. Was it a monster? A ghost? A boggart?
He almost screamed when the creature slowly emerged from the bushes. But it wasn’t a monster at all—it was a boy.
A small boy, wearing an oversized shirt, covered in dirt from head to toe. His thin face stared intently at the rice ball in Isagi’s hands, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.
Isagi had never seen a kid his age look so… pitiful. No child should be so dirty, wearing clothes that didn’t fit, staring at someone else's food like that.
Then a realization struck him—could this boy be… a Kneazle that had turned human?!
A magical cat that had been abandoned, starving on the streets! That had to be it. If that were the case, then of course the cat-boy would have golden fur like sunlight and deep blue eyes like the ocean. He followed Isagi’s every movement, his gaze tracking the rice ball like a predator eyeing its prey.
"Do you… want some?" Isagi asked hesitantly.
But the cat-boy only tilted his head, furrowing his brows and blinking at him. It seemed like he didn’t understand.
So, Isagi held the rice ball out to him.
The cat-boy flinched at the sudden gesture. After a moment of hesitation, he cautiously stepped forward… Isagi’s smile had just begun to form—
When the cat-boy suddenly lunged, snatching the entire bag of rice balls right out of his hands, shoving Isagi backward onto the ground.
"Ah!" Isagi gasped as pain shot through his elbow and the back of his head. Tears immediately welled up in his eyes, but he bit his lip, forcing them back—an admirable effort.
The cat-boy, completely ignoring Isagi's piercing gaze, tore into the rice balls messily, shoving food into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in years.
But Isagi’s elbow really hurt.
He sat there, watching as the cat-boy devoured the entire bag, leaving crumbs and scattered bits of rice everywhere. Then, without even sparing Isagi a glance, the boy turned and bolted—hurling the empty bag right at Isagi’s face before running off. Rice crumbs stuck to his hair and clothes.
And with no one else left in the park but himself, Isagi finally burst into tears.
***
Isagi’s parents were extremely panicked when they saw him return home—covered in dust and rice crumbs, with a swollen elbow. After his firm insistence that he had simply fallen, causing his lunch to spill all over him, their worry lessened a bit.
“I wasn’t in a fight, I just tripped,” Isagi said, as truthfully as possible. “I didn’t even meet anyone.” Because technically, the only one he had met was kneazle.
After a night of persistent pleading (and sulking through breakfast), Isagi finally convinced his parents to let him go out and play.
Isagi had a plan. He was going to win over the kitten.
With love. And food, of course. The poor thing looked pitiful, and if it agreed to come home with him, wouldn’t that mean he had made a new friend?
But Isagi also knew full well—the kitten from yesterday was a stubborn, wild, and strong-willed kneazle. It wasn’t the type to trust anyone, let alone let its guard down. If Isagi wanted to convince it, he had to be even more stubborn.
As expected, the kitten showed up again today—probably still plotting to steal his food. The two of them had been secretly hoping the other would come back, even if their first meeting had been... chaotic.
The kitten wanted Isagi to come, so it could eat.
Isagi wanted the kitten to come, so it could eat.
Still, he wasn’t going to be foolish enough to just hand over his food. The moment the scent of warm rice filled the air, the kitten leapt out of the grass and lunged at him. In response, Isagi immediately hugged the lunchbox to his chest, refusing to let it be taken.
In its hunger and desperation, the kitten clawed and hit him. But Isagi stubbornly clung to the lunchbox; even when the pain made his eyes well up with tears, he didn’t surrender. His teary, determined gaze screamed: You’re not stealing my food!
The kitten hesitated for a moment, then bit its lip. Its reddened eyes roughly rubbed against its own sleeve.
Before it could run away, Isagi shouted, “Hey!”
It froze, slowly turning back to him. It looked like it was about to cry.
Isagi pointed at himself. “Yoichi. Yo-i-chi.” Then he held out a rice ball. The rest of the lunchbox was tucked behind his back, his intentions clear—you only get one piece.
To his delight, the kitten obediently reached out to take it. Its eating was messy, like it feared the food might be snatched away.
“Yo-i-chi,” Isagi repeated once it finished eating. “Yoichi.”
The kitten struggled but managed, “Yo-i-chi.”
Isagi grinned wide and handed over another rice ball.
For the next thirty minutes, it became a pattern—the kitten would say “Yoichi” after finishing each piece, its pronunciation becoming quicker and clearer each time, and Isagi would reward it with another. When it choked, Isagi handed over his water bottle and rubbed its back.
When there was only one rice ball left, Isagi pointed at the kitten.
This kneazle really was a magical creature—because it understood him immediately.
“Michael,” the kitten said.
It was a beautiful name, but it was too hard for Isagi to pronounce properly. Feeling guilty, he looked at the kitten and hesitantly asked, “Can I call you Mimi?” Then, realizing it might not understand, he gestured wildly. “Mimi? Mi-mi…?”
The kitten frowned, looking slightly offended. Isagi shrank back, gripping his shirt. “Sorry…”
Two small hands lifted Isagi's face. With a determined look, the kitten stared at him. “Mimi. Yoichi.”
In that moment, it felt like a flower bloomed inside Isagi’s chest. He couldn’t hold back his joy, his smile stretching ear to ear as he clutched the kitten’s hands tightly. “Mimi!”
The kitten’s cheeks instantly flushed red, like a blooming rose. It was so cute that Isagi almost forgot he needed to go home on time and say goodbye.
“I’ll come back tomorrow,” he promised, waving his arms around. Mimi didn’t understand his words, but maybe—just maybe—it understood his meaning.
But to Isagi’s surprise, Mimi looked… abandoned. That expression made his chest ache, and he flailed, unsure how to comfort it. Then he remembered the lucky bracelet on his wrist.
After a moment of hesitation, he took it off and gently slipped it onto Mimi’s wrist.
“Keep this for me, okay? I’ll come back to get it—so don’t lose it!”
The sadness in Mimi’s expression was quickly replaced by surprise and then happiness. It clutched the bracelet tightly, unwilling to let go, its eyes shimmering.
But every party must come to an end . Despite his reluctance, Isagi waved goodbye, leaving Mimi standing there, watching his small figure disappear beyond the trees.
That night, Isagi was so excited he couldn’t sleep. He still couldn’t believe it—he had made his first real friend. His parents were happy to see him so lively, and they didn’t even question him when he suddenly asked for extra lunch the next day. He couldn’t wait to see Mimi again.
But the kitten didn’t come.
The next day, too, it didn’t come. And Isagi’s heart shattered.
***
On the third day, when Isagi thought Mimi had abandoned him forever—Mimi returned.
But he didn’t come back unscathed.
The moment Isagi saw the bruises swelling around Mimi’s eye, the red marks on his neck, and the scrapes and bruises littering his arms and legs, all his own hurt from the past two days vanished.
Of course, he knew that boys their age often got into scuffles, leaving behind scratches and bruises. But Mimi didn’t look like he had just been messing around with other kids.
Whoever hurt Mimi… they had meant to kill him.
“Mimi! Who did this to you?!” Isagi cried, rushing to its side, too scared to even touch its wounds. His panic turned into tears—he didn’t know what to do.
“Es tut weh,” Mimi murmured. “Hilf mir.”
For the first time, Isagi hated the language barrier between them. Even if Mimi answered, he wouldn’t understand. And no matter how much Isagi wanted to ask, Mimi wouldn’t be able to reply.
Mimi simply shook his head.
“…Mimi,” Isagi whispered, his voice trembling.
Without another word, Mimi wrapped his arms around Isagi and buried his face in his shoulder. And the next moment, Isagi felt something warm and wet trickling down his neck.
They stayed like that for a long time—so long neither of them could remember exactly how long. But in that moment, Isagi knew no matter how much he had to cry, beg, and throw a tantrum in front of his parents, he had to convince them to let Mimi come home with him.
***
“Mom, Dad, what if I wanted to keep a friend?” Isagi asked in the middle of dinner.
Issei choked on his rice, and Iyo nearly dropped the bowl in her hands.
“A pet? Why do you suddenly want a pet?” Issei struggled to swallow, his voice laced with surprise. “Not that I’m against it… it’s just so unexpected.”
“What kind of pet, sweetheart?” Iyo, who was more accustomed to her son’s unpredictable nature, smiled gently. She imagined Yocchan would want something like a turtle or a hamster—quiet, low-maintenance creatures.
Isagi looked away. “Actually, I’ve already convinced him. I just wanted to ask if I could bring him home.”
Him? The couple exchanged glances. Convinced?
“…Did you befriend a stray animal?” Issei asked worriedly. He couldn’t picture Isagi mustering the courage to do such a thing. Wait a minute—“Those scratches… don’t tell me you didn’t fall, but that animal scratched you instead?”
“He was just scared at first! But now he’s really gentle. He loves cuddling with me.” Isagi hurriedly explained. He couldn’t let his parents have the wrong impression of Mimi. “He has golden fur, blue eyes, was a bit aggressive at first but is actually very sweet…”
Only a few days had passed, yet their timid little Yocchan had already tamed a creature and wanted to bring it home. They couldn’t say they weren’t pleased—after all, their shy son was finally forming connections, even if it was with an animal.
“What’s his name, then?”
“He already has a name, but I call him Mimi.”
Issei chuckled. “You even gave him a name? If you’re calling him Mimi, then he must be a kneazle, right? Is he big?”
Isagi shot up from his seat, raising his hand high in the air. “He’s skinny, but super tall! He’s even taller than me!”
At that moment, his mother’s smile vanished. Looking at his father, Isagi noticed that his dad’s expression flickered like a faulty lightbulb.
Isagi hesitated, lowering his hand. Had he said something wrong? Should he have lied about Mimi’s height? Did his parents prefer Mimi to be shorter than him?
“…A kneazle… taller than one meter twenty?”
His mother’s voice wavered slightly.
Isagi blinked before cautiously nodding.
“Yes…? So, can I bring him home?”