Chapter Text
The park smelled of damp earth and freshly opened flowers. L, his jet-black fur gleaming under the mid-afternoon sun, observed the fluttering of a white butterfly with scientific curiosity. His little paws moved silently, ready to catch it in an elegant, detached game. He was in no hurry. The world was his personal entertainment.
Until a harsh scent and a wet panting broke his concentration.
A dog—a medium-sized schnauzer, with a dirty beard and eyes far too curious—had approached, wagging its tail in a rhythm L found vulgar. The cat bristled instantly, his back forming an elegant arc of warning. A low, guttural hiss escaped his throat. He did not want to be touched.
But the dog, ignorant of the rules of elegance, took another step forward. Too close. Too familiar.
With a movement as fast as a whip, L extended his front paw and struck the air, right in front of the intruder’s snout. He didn’t touch him, but the message was clear: Back off.
The schnauzer startled, then growled, offended. His ears flattened against his skull. This black, arrogant cat had challenged him. With a short bark, he lunged.
L, accustomed to the comfort of Persian rugs and high furniture, misjudged the speed of the attack. He stepped back but stumbled over a root. For a second, his gray eyes—always so serene—showed a hint of… fear? Indignation? This was not in his script.
Then, a golden flash crossed his field of vision.
A larger cat, with fur the color of toasted honey, placed himself between L and the dog with silent ferocity. He did not hiss. He did not arch his back. He simply stood there, paws firm, with an amber gaze so intense and cold it seemed to freeze the air. His slender yet muscular body was a living barrier.
The dog stopped short, confused. This new cat did not smell like fear. He smelled like the streets, long nights, and battles won. A white scar traced the edge of his right ear, a reminder of past fights.
With one last uncertain growl, the schnauzer turned around and walked away, tail tucked between his legs.
Silence returned to that corner of the park.
L slowly relaxed. His gaze, now filled with renewed and much deeper curiosity, studied his savior. What a strange creature, he thought. He was not refined, nor delicate. His fur, though shiny, bore the marks of an outdoor life. But there was dignity in his posture, a quiet arrogance in the way he lifted his head.
He approached with the caution of one facing a fascinating phenomenon. Light (because, without knowing his name, L had already given him one in his mind: Golden Light) did not retreat. He allowed the black cat to sniff him, to closely examine his whiskers, his eyes, that scar.
L extended his own muzzle, offering his scent in return: chamomile shampoo, imported tuna, clean cotton. Light sniffed him, and for an instant something flickered in his amber eyes—recognition, perhaps, of a completely alien world.
Their noses brushed. A feline gesture of greeting, of truce, of… a beginning?
L’s puffed-up tail began to sway slowly from side to side, a rhythm not of alertness, but of pure fascination. Light, for his part, took one step closer, gently rubbing his flank against L’s shoulder. A touch that was a question, a streetwise courtship—direct and honest.
And L, the pampered kitten who scratched uninvited hands, let it happen. He even tilted his head into the contact.
Without a meow, Light turned and began walking toward the thickest bushes in the park, casting a glance over his shoulder. A clear invitation.
L hesitated for only a second. The imported tuna, the velvet armchair, the sunny window… everything suddenly seemed bland. With a graceful movement, he followed the golden cat, his blue collar with the heart-shaped charm gleaming one last time in the familiar light before both of them vanished into the green shadows, ready for the first chapter of their own secret game.
‧˚꒰🐾୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ
The park transformed into a kingdom of wonders under Light’s golden gaze. As they walked shoulder to shoulder—the elegant black and the confident gold—L felt his world expand beyond the polished windows of the Ayanami mansion.
First lesson: climbing a real tree.
Not the smooth trunks of the sisal scratching posts in his living room, but an ancient oak, its bark rough and alive beneath his pads. Light climbed first, agile and silent, then looked down with bright eyes, as if saying: What are you waiting for?
L followed, his movements more calculated, less instinctive, yet filled with a determination he didn’t know he possessed. When he reached the branch where Light waited, the wind brushed his fur, and he could see the roof of his own home in the distance—small and far away. Light brushed his back against L’s, a gesture that meant: Look, the world is bigger than your window.
Second lesson: hunting shadows.
By an abandoned pond, Light crouched, muscles taut like springs. He wasn’t chasing a butterfly, but the reflection of a dragonfly on the water. With a precise leap, his claws barely touched the surface, creating ripples that distorted the reflected world.
L watched, fascinated. He had never needed to hunt, but something in Light’s intensity, in the wild grace of the movement, made his instincts stir. He tried to imitate him, failed, fell sideways onto the soft grass… and instead of feeling shame, he heard a low, warm purr near his ear. Light nudged him playfully with his head, as if saying: You’ll get it next time.
Third lesson: sharing a hiding place.
Light guided him through a crack between ivy-covered rocks, a secret, dry place that smelled of earth, moss, and him. There, in that small sanctuary, Light dropped a “gift” at L’s paws: a bright blue feather, a worn piece of string, and a crumpled ball of aluminum foil—treasures of the street.
L, who owned imported designer toys, found an unknown magic in those humble objects. He touched the feather with a delicate paw, then looked up at Light. In his amber eyes there was a spark of satisfaction, of pride. This is mine, Light seemed to say, and now it’s yours too.
As they played, Light never stopped being alert. His ears turned toward every distant sound, his body subtly placing itself between L and any sudden noise. He protected his pampered kitten with the quiet ferocity of one who knows real dangers. And L, accustomed to being the center of a safe and predictable universe, felt strangely moved by that vigilance. It wasn’t the protection of a housekeeper or of Rei; it was a choice. Light chose to protect him.
At sunset, curled up beside each other in the ivy hideout, with the warmth of the other’s body as a blanket, L heard Light’s purr for the first time. It was deeper than his own, rough around the edges, like a gravel road. L answered with his own, soft and melodic, and for a moment, the black cat finally felt at peace…