I remember almost nothing from my childhood.

    I remember neither where I was born nor where I was raised.

    I remember neither my mother’s nor my father’s face.

    My only faint memory is of a warm, soft, sweet smell.

    I was whisked away from a place of indescribable comfort, and before I knew it, I was somewhere cold and dark.

    Cold rain pelted down day and night, soaking me to the bone. It was cold. I was hungry. I couldn’t even cry out.

    Just as I closed my eyes and started to think that I would rather never wake up, I felt very light. I was in the air.

    I weakly opened my eyes. In front of me, there was a person with glossy black hair just like mine, although his was shinier, and kind eyes of a bit lighter color. The clothes he was wearing were all black except for a couple of golden buttons.

    As a black cat myself, I thought he looked a lot like me.“You’re alone too,” he said. I meowed frailly.

    That was how I met Masaya.