Chapter Three

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Phil woke to the most wonderful scent in the world: pancakes. It took him a moment to realize who must be in his kitchen, cooking those pancakes. Phil leapt from his bed, put on his glasses, and dashed into his kitchen.


The sight of him in the doorway, shocked and slightly out of breath, was apparently amusing based on the look that the Neko gave him. His ears were pointed forward, and Phil thought that might mean he was happy.

Phil returned the Neko's smile and said, "Hello, you."


The Neko broke eye contact, but said, "Hello." As the boy returned his attention to the stove, Phil stared at his back. He was dressed in the black t-shirt and jeans that he was wearing last night, which appear to be mostly dry now, and his tail was twitching jovially at the tip.


Phil decided to help with breakfast by setting the table, and as he did so he said, "So... you're talking today?"


The boy glanced over his shoulder with an apologetic smile. "Yeah, hope you didn't think I was being rude yesterday. You were really nice and I'm sorry if you thought I didn't appreciate it, just because I wouldn't say anything. Thank you."


"No worries and you're welcome. I didn't think you were ungrateful, just tired." Phil eyed the set tabletop until he decided what was missing – coffee. He returned to the cupboard and retrieved two mugs.


"I was tired. Thanks for understanding. I... didn't want to talk about what happened, and I felt like if I said anything to you it would all come out."


Phil glanced curiously at the Neko, but he'd turned away and Phil decided not to press him any further on this sensitive subject. "Hey, how do you take your coffee?"


The boy turned around, saw the mugs, and shrugged. "I don't know. I've never had coffee before. Could I try it the way you like it?"


"Okay, you'll have it with a half-ton of sugar then." Phil was pleased when this earned a breathy laugh from the Neko. It was only the third time he'd heard the Neko laugh, but he was quickly becoming addicted to the sound. It reminded him of a line from a book, which went something like, His laughter struck a tuning fork on my soul. Phil had never truly understood the meaning of that sentence until now.


He finished making the coffee – instant coffee, Phil's favorite – at the same time as the Neko finished with the pancakes, and they brought them to the kitchen table. As the Neko was leaning over the table, Phil reached out and grasped the silver tag that was hanging away from his chest. The Neko stiffened, his ears pushed back, and his eyes widened, but he didn't pull away as Phil read the tag on his collar. It only said one thing, which Phil read aloud, "'Daniel'. Is that your name?"


The boy nodded, and the silver tag returned to rest against his chest as Phil let go. The boy settled into his seat. "I go by Dan, though."


"Nice to meet you, Dan. I'm Phil. I'd shake your hand, but..." he displayed his hand, which was sticky with syrup thanks to the leaking bottle.


Dan didn't look at Phil's hand, seeming distracted as he touched the collar around his neck. "I hate this thing. I always have trouble sleeping in it because it's so tight. I want it off."


"Oh. Isn't there a clasp you can undo?"


"No," Dan said, touching part of the collar that was out of Phil's view. "There's a lock built into the band, and I don't have the key."


Phil examined the leather collar before making up his mind and getting up to retrieve scissors from a drawer. He approached Dan. "Here, tilt your head and I'll cut it off."

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