When I next woke up, sunlight was streaming in through the window beside my bed, and I felt pressure on top of my chest, caused by the Neko I found last night, sleeping on my chest.
In human form.
Naked.
I blushed, trying not to focus on the naked part. I wanted to get up, but... He seemed so comfortable, and I didn't want to disturb his sleep.
Looking up at his face, his sunken cheeks, one covered in a nasty-looking bruise that stretched up to his temple, part of me wanted to squeeze him as tightly as I could and tell him that everything was gonna be ok. But another part of me was afraid to even touch him. He seemed so fragile, like he was made of glass. One wrong move, and he'd shatter. And the last thing I wanted to do was cause him pain.
I reached over to grab the part of the sheet that hung over the bed, nearly to the floor, and gently draped it on top of him. At that, his eyes opened, dark brown with slit black pupils staring at me, slowly widening before he pushed himself off of me, looking embarrassed. "I-I... I'm sorry." He mumbled, one hand covering the place I knew his rib was broken, his knees drawn up to his chin.
I sat up on the bed. "It's ok, you didn't do anything wrong. Are you still hurting?" He shook his head, but his hand wouldn't leave his broken rib. I sighed. "... Are you lying to me?"
He hid his face in his knees. "I'm sorry." He repeated weakly, shaking again.
"Hey, no. You don't have to be sorry. I just don't want you to hurt."
"No... N-no, no, I'm a bad k-kitty..." He insisted, his voice shaky and thick with tears. "I'm a b-bad kitty a-and you're gonna t-take me back... Or... Or p-punish me..." His voice got even quieter, like he was afraid of even the word 'punish'.
I put a hand on his knee, hoping it would do something to comfort him. "Nobody's gonna take you back. And nobody's gonna punish you."
He looked up at me, eyes brimming with tears threatening to spill over, pupils now blown into circles, like they were when I first met him. "Y-you... You're not... A-angry?"
I shook my head. "I'm not angry at you, ok?"
"But... I lied."
"Well... Yes. And you shouldn't do that, because I wanna help you. And I can't do that if you don't tell me you're hurt. But I'm not mad at you, I promise." He seemed to calm down a little at that, but still didn't say anything, just wiped his eyes and sat there, hugging his knees, his tail peeking out between his legs, nervously writhing like a worm on a hook. I reached over to my bedside table, opening the bottle of pills and shaking one out. "I hope this'll help with the pain. And maybe don't chew it again, ok?"
He took it in his hand, staring at it, before he put it in his mouth and swallowing it whole. I stood up then, taking the empty gatorade bottle to my bathroom and filling it up with tapwater before placing it beside him and walking over to the closet.
"Let's... Get some clothes on you, ok?" I suggested, thoughtlessly pulling out some pajama pants and a t-shirt, and giving them to him. "I know they're not... Exactly your size. But we'll worry about that later, ok?"
He put the bottle down and nodded, slipping the pale blue pants on, his tail slipping through one of his pantlegs. When he got to the drawstring, though, he just held the two ends in his hands and looked down at them, then up at me for just a moment before they looked down at his hands again, biting his lip in shame and probably at least a little frustration as he wordlessly held the strings out to me.
I sighed again, taking them from him and tying a knot around his grotesquely small waist, trying and failing not to let my emotions show on my face. How could anyone be so thoughtless? Or so cruel?
When I looked back up at him, he looked away and slipped the shirt on, an old souvenir from summer camp. It was a little big on me, but it barely hung onto him, swallowing him up in orange cloth which made his skin look even paler. His knees drew back up, so I couldn't see the lower half of his face, but his eyes were back to slits, and I could hear purring, which made me smile. I sat down beside him and tried to make small talk. "... So, um... My name's Will. What's yours?"
He seemed confused, and didn't respond.
"You don't... Talk much, do you?"
He shook his head.
"So... What am I supposed to call you?"
He shrugged.
"Well... What do most people call you?"
He started biting his lip again, harder this time, his breathing speeding up as he turned away from me. "... It. R... Runt. Weakling. Useless, worthless, hopeless, bad kitty, bad bad bad-!" By now, he had started hitting his head with his wrists with every horrible word, so I grabbed them to keep him from hurting himself any further.
"Ok, ok, let's... Let's just calm down, ok?" I gently lowered his hands back into his lap. He was still breathing rapidly, shallowly, his tail, now tightly wrapped around his waist, having escaped his pants. "Hey, it's ok." I cooed, gently thumbing circles into his hands. He began leaning on me, and I gently wrapped my arms around him, being painstakingly careful not to agitate his many, many wounds. "Deep breaths, just like mine, ok? In..." I took a deep breath in. "And out... Can you do that for me?"
He tried to follow my breathing, but winced, clutching his rib again.
I hissed through my teeth. "We've gotta get you to the doctor. And soon. For now, though... Are you calm now?"
He nodded into my shirt. "... Tired..."
I sighed, laying him down, pulling the covers over him again, and I was about to leave when he slipped his hand into mine, silently begging me not to leave.
I sat back down in my chair. "Alright, I can stay for a little while, but I'll have to leave when dad calls for breakfast. I just hope the medicine kicks in soon."
"The... Medicine?"
I turned back to him. "The pills I keep giving you, to help with your pain."
"Oh." His eyelids fought to stay open, and I squeezed his hand just a little bit before he eventually fell asleep.
