Chapter Text
Regina could hardly believe it – she had actually gotten tickets to the live performance of Cats, sitting in the very front row. Ever since she first saw the musical – fifteen years ago, in her mid-twenties – she had been enchanted. The music, the costumes, the energy on stage… Cats had touched something in her that she had never been able to fully let go of. And her heart had always belonged to one character: Munkustrap.
He had been more than just a character to her. There was a strange sense of familiarity she could never quite explain—as if she'd known him for a long time, long before she'd seen him on stage.
The hall darkened. The first notes of the overture filled the room, and Regina felt her heart skip a beat. Then came the flash of lightning.
A light, brighter than anything else, flashed across the stage—and no one else seemed to notice. Regina saw the outlines of the stage distort, the colors blur. The music suddenly sounded distorted, slower, as if from another world.
She felt the ground being pulled out from under her feet. Her body became light, almost weightless. A whirl of light, music, and warmth enveloped her—and then everything was silent.
When she opened her eyes, she was lying on a soft, dusty surface. Huge everyday objects loomed around her—empty cans, crumpled balls of paper, oversized scraps of fabric. Or... had she shrunk?
Before she could collect herself, she heard footsteps. Quick, smooth movements – then someone stepped in front of her.
A silver-gray tomcat with black stripes. Munkustrap.
"You're not from around here," he said calmly, looking at her with an expression that wavered between curiosity and recognition. "And yet... you seem strangely familiar."
Regina stared at him. Her eyes were wide open, her mouth hung open—but no sound came out. There he really was. Munkustrap. Not an actor in a costume, not on a stage, but alive. Real fur, real eyes, a voice that didn't come from speakers, but spoke directly to her.
“I… you… that can’t…” Her voice failed.
Munkustrap tilted his head slightly, his ears twitching as if listening to her heartbeat. "Don't worry. I won't hurt you."
Regina took a step back, her gaze sweeping over his figure. Every detail was just right. The stripes, the strong stance, even the gentle seriousness in his eyes—just like in her memories, in her dreams.
Was that a dream?
“Are you… Munkustrap?” she finally whispered.
A slight nod. "That's what they call me, yes."
A tremor ran through her body, her knees almost gave way. She laughed—short, brittle, almost like a sob. "I can't believe it... I've gone crazy. I'm completely crazy."
"You're not crazy," he said gently. "But you're very... far from home."
Regina tried to grasp the situation. Her gaze wandered again around the oversized environment, then back to him. "I don't know how I got here. I was sitting in the theater... And then... lights, music, and suddenly—that." She made a helpless gesture.
Munkustrap took a step closer. He was now only an arm's length away.
Regina held her breath. It was so close she could touch it. A dream come true, but it felt so real that it frightened her.
"I can't explain it," she whispered. "But I know you. I've known all of you. For years. You've become... a part of me."
He looked at her for a long time. "Then maybe you're here because you're meant to be."
Munkustrap stepped closer until only a hand's breadth separated them. Regina felt the warmth of his body, the soft sound of his breathing. She didn't know whether to run away or simply stay and absorb this moment forever.
He examined her curiously. His green eyes wandered over her face, lingering on hers. A hint of surprise flashed in them, barely perceptible—yet palpable.
“Blue like the clear morning sky…” he murmured, more to himself than to her.
Regina frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"
He shook his head almost imperceptibly. "It's nothing. Just... you seem familiar. But I don't know why."
Regina exhaled slowly. She felt it, too. Something in his voice, in his presence, touched a spot inside her that she had long forgotten—or never fully understood. A gentle pull, like a reunion with a dream.
"I feel the same way," she finally admitted. "I know this sounds crazy—but it's like I've seen you before. Not on stage. Somewhere... deeper."
A faint, almost sad smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. "Perhaps each of us carries traces of another within us. Even if we no longer know where they came from."
For a moment, they simply stood there. The world around them was silent—as if space and time had briefly receded to make room for something beyond logic.