I was walking down the city, the box in my hands. Some people were looking at me with fear and some were whispering things to themselves.
I didn't even have to look to see that they were staring at me. As much as I hated being looked at, I didn't care much. I strangely was more worried about this kitty.
I opened the box and saw the kitty who seemed to have cacalmedown a little but seemed to be in a critical moment where he might die at any moment.
I never really felt worried about anyone, since nobody felt worried about me at all...What was the point? But this cat...had made me feel strange. I felt strangely anxious.
I didn't know why, but I decided to walk faster, who fucking cares who were staring at me? They can stare all they want, the only thing that matters now is this kitty.
--
As I was walking, I stopped when I was looking up. I finally came into the vet, maybe they will do something.
I opened the door and nobody was there, which was quite convenient for me.
As I was looking at the huge waiting room, i saw a woman working on her desk deep concentrated in her work.
I walked up to her and put the box on the desk, to her surprise she gasp a little.
Both of us look at each other for a moment.
"U-uhm…do you ne-"
"I found this kitty in the street."I bluntly said.
The woman looked at me and then at the box, she got up and opened it, she gasped and her eyes widened with terror. "What happened to him?!"
"Just some ...major asshole I took care of…can you save him?" I ask with a tone of worry.
The woman seemed to be confused at what I said but she decided not to ask. She got up and took the book "We'll see what we can do."
She walk away to another door leaving me alone in the room.
I sigh and walk to the patient seat with a grunt. I sat there alone, looking down the floor.
"...What am I doing..?"
This isn't like me taking care of anyone but myself. I was just someone that was born to hate…not some type of animal rescuer. But this feeling i had inside when i saw this cat, was it pity or anger…or even both?
My family didn't give a damn about me. The only that matters to them is their money and their shitty heritage.
After their death i took control of their business, and of course their "helpers" were all just assholes that care of themselves.
I only do what i was supposed to do : Kill.
What's the point of continuing to let myself live…Why can't i just…
"Uhm sir…"
I suddenly woke up when I saw the veterinarian looking at me with curiosity. I look at my clock…Did I sleep?
I look back at the veterinarian, "So…How is he?" I ask a little worried.
She smile "Why don't you come see for yourself?"
–
…
…
My eyes widened as i look down the table, the kitty was asleep, he had a bondage in his paws and one in his left eye.
"The little guy is a survivor!" A Veterinarian said with a laugh "He fought hard."
I walk up to him and slowly caress his hand slowly, not trying to wake him up.
My heart melted, I never had this type of feeling before. It felt…strange yet nice. This kitty suddenly washed away all my pain and anger. It made feel…safe.
The veterinarian giggles "Since he doesn't have a name yet…what would you call him?"
I took a moment to think and suddenly an idea came to me.
"Akira."