No answer, just the echo of the rain against concrete.
Where the hell did that thing go?
The rain picked up harder, thunder rumbling in the distance, not loud enough to panic me, but close enough to twist something tight in my chest. Still, I kept looking. Peering into corners, under old crates, behind the fence. No cat. Just shadows and rain.
I sighed, soaked through now, breath fogging in the cold air.Gosh… where is that fucker?But I kept walking, searching anyway, because Aurora would cry if she found out it wasmissing, and I didn’t find it. And I couldn’t handle that, not ever again.
Half an hour.
That’s how long I’d been walking in the damn rain, shoes soaked, hoodie dripping, every streetlight reflecting off the wet pavement. My hair was plastered to my forehead, and the only thing keeping me going was the thought of Aurora’s face if I came back empty-handed.
I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck as I cut back through the alley toward the garage. “Alright, that’s it,” I muttered to myself. “She’s gonna kill me if I get sick.”
Then I heard it.
A small, cracked meow.
I stopped dead. Turned slowly toward the sound. Another faint meow, higher this time, from somewhere behind the dumpster.
I jogged over, heart kicking a little faster. “Hey,” I called softly, crouching down. “You in there?”
There was movement… a scuffle, then another soft cry. I frowned, leaned closer, and finally saw it. Inside the dumpster, sitting right on top of a pile of garbage, was the tiniest black kitten I’d ever seen.
Completely soaked.
Shaking.
And… wearing a banana peel like a hat.
I actually blinked. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
The little thing let out another pitiful meow, and that was it. Whatever line I thought I had about not adopting another one disappeared.
“C’mere, little idiot,” I murmured, reaching in. The rain was still falling, cold against my arms, but the kitten was colder. Iscooped it up gently, and it immediately clung to my hoodie with tiny claws, trembling.
“Yeah, yeah,” I said softly, brushing bits of trash off its fur. “You stink, but you’re fine now.”
I wiped away the muck on its head, peeled off the banana like I was unwrapping something fragile. The kitten blinked up at me with wide, scared eyes, all black fur and tiny paws.
“Damn,” I muttered, rubbing the little thing to warm it up. “You’re actually kind of cute.”
It meowed again, quieter this time, and curled against my chest. I sighed, pressing my chin lightly to its head.
“Alright, little guy,” I muttered under my breath, adjusting the tiny black kitten in my arm. The thing was barely the size of my palm, damp fur clinging to my hoodie, eyes blinking like it couldn’t quite process the world yet. “You’re safe now. We’re going—”
Then I froze.
There was a sound behind me.
A small, shaking voice.
“J-Joshua?”
I turned around fast, heart dropping.
She was standing there, a few feet away, under the pouring rain. Hair soaked. Hoodie clinging to her. Eyes red, glassy, tears and rain running together down her cheeks.
My chest clenched so hard that I could barely breathe.
