Chapter 36: Cat Addict
Dinner was finally over.
The fat orange cat lazily jumped off the table, stretching its body before slowly padding away, leaving Vigne looking reluctant and wistful. She watched it until it vanished behind a counter, the faint jingling of its tiny collar fading into the background hum of the café. For a brief moment, she looked as if she wanted to chase after it.
Outside, the rain had eased a bit, though it hadn't stopped completely — still falling in a steady, whispering drizzle that painted silver lines beneath the streetlights.
"It's already past nine. Should we head back?" Vigne asked softly, her voice barely audible beneath the soft drumming of rain on the windows.
"Sure," Kouya nodded after glancing at his watch.
It really was getting late. The once lively café had quieted down, the chatter of other customers now distant. A few couples remained, their low voices blending with the faint jazz playing through the speakers. If they waited for the rain to stop completely, they might be there all night.
Kouya pressed the small bell on the table, the crisp ding cutting through the quiet. The waitress appeared almost immediately, her smile trained and polite, hands clasped neatly before her apron.
"Thank you for dining with us. The total is forty-three thousand yen (280$)."
"So much?" Vigne nearly jumped, eyes wide. Her face stiffened, and she instinctively glanced down at the little bear-patterned wallet resting beside her plate. The Demon World only gave her a little over a hundred thousand yen a month (650$) — and that had to cover rent, utilities, and train fare. A single meal eating up nearly half of that was unthinkable.
"That's normal, miss. These are all premium dishes..." the maid-dressed waitress explained kindly, clearly used to shocked customers. Her tone was gentle but unshaken, as if she'd seen this reaction dozens of times before.
Vigne bit her lip, freezing mid-motion, the wallet half-open in her trembling hands. Her face flushed crimson as she stammered in a voice barely above a whisper:
"I... I don't have enough..."
Her eyes darted to Kouya, mortified. The color in her cheeks deepened until it almost reached her ears. She looked ready to melt from embarrassment, like a child caught doing something shameful. Was she blushing because she'd insisted earlier on splitting the bill, only to come up short now? Probably. If there were a hole in the floor, she'd have already jumped in headfirst.
Kouya exhaled quietly, then pulled out five crisp ten-thousand-yen bills without hesitation. The sound of paper sliding against paper was sharp in the quiet room.
Once the payment was settled, Vigne finally lifted her head. Her cheeks were still burning as she bit her lip and said seriously, her voice steady despite the redness in her face, "I'll pay you back tomorrow!"
"Alright," Kouya replied casually, waving a hand. To him, it was nothing. The so-called Demon King had no reason to care about a few pieces of paper money.
They gathered their belongings, stepping out into the night air.
The rain had softened into a faint mist. The air was cool, heavy with the scent of wet asphalt and blooming night flowers. The street stretched long and empty ahead of them. Their reflections shimmered across puddles, distorting with every ripple of rain.
The only sounds were their footsteps — soft, deliberate, echoing faintly against the narrow street. Lamps lined the sidewalk, spilling dim circles of light like small islands in the darkness.
Vigne walked a step behind, her shoes occasionally splashing in shallow puddles. Whether from embarrassment or quiet reflection, she said nothing. Every few steps, her hand brushed against the bag she carried, gripping it tighter whenever her thoughts drifted back to the dinner bill.
Kouya didn't mind. He liked silence. The faint rhythm of rain and footsteps was oddly calming.
Soon, they turned into a narrow alleyway. The walls on either side loomed high and wet, their surfaces glistening under the dim lights. Once they crossed it, they'd reach Aoyama Apartments — Vigne's home.
The drizzle dwindled further, becoming a fine mist that clung to their hair and eyelashes like dew. The puddles along the road shimmered softly, each one reflecting the faint yellow light of the lamps above.
"Wait!" Vigne suddenly called.
Kouya stopped, turning his head. "Hm?"
"Do you hear something?" She tilted her head, listening intently.
He paused. Beneath the rain's soft murmur, a weak sound could be heard — thin, pitiful, almost like a cry.
"It's coming from over there," Kouya said, pointing toward a patch of overgrown grass near the fence.
"I'll check!" Vigne quickly handed him her shopping bags and dashed toward the sound.
A few moments later, she returned, her arms cradling a soaked cardboard box. Her hair clung to her cheeks, raindrops dripping down her chin.
Kouya looked down. Inside the box were two tiny kittens — barely the size of his palm, their fur matted and gray with streaks of white. Their bellies rose and fell weakly, each breath shallow.
But what stood out most were their ears — folded flat against their heads, unlike normal cats whose ears perked proudly upright.
The kittens shivered violently, pressing together as though their small bodies could share warmth against the cold.
Vigne's eyes softened before twisting into fury. "How could anyone abandon such cute little meows! That's horrible!"
Kouya sighed. "They're Scottish Folds."
She blinked, confused. He continued, voice calm and matter-of-fact.
"I read about them recently. Their ears fold because of a genetic defect. What looks cute to humans... is actually a sign of pain. Their ear cartilage can't hold itself up. It folds down because it's weak — and the problem doesn't stop there. The same defect affects their entire body, especially the joints."
Vigne listened in silence, her arms tightening protectively around the box.
"Their cartilage doesn't form properly, which leads to deformities — arthritis, bone pain, all of it progressive. Some can barely walk when they grow older. There's no cure. None of them escape it."
Kouya's tone was indifferent, but his eyes softened briefly as he looked at the trembling kittens. "Humans keep breeding them anyway. They see the cute ears, the round faces, and they can't resist. Some even sell them for higher prices. Profit wins over compassion."
Vigne's eyes filled with tears as she gazed down at the tiny creatures. "That's so cruel... how can people be like that?"
Her voice broke slightly. She bit her lip hard. "Even so, abandoning them in the rain like this — it's unforgivable! They wouldn't have survived the night if we hadn't come by!"
Kouya shrugged slightly. "Life's cruel by nature. Survival's never simple."
She looked up at him, almost angry. "We can't just leave them!"
"Why don't you take them in?" he said after a moment.
Vigne froze, eyes flickering with hesitation. Her hands trembled, gripping the soggy box tighter.
"I... I can't. I promised my landlord no pets when I moved in..." Her voice was barely audible. Then, with a small, desperate glance upward, she whispered, "What should I do?"
Kouya thought for a moment, then said simply, "Leave them to me."
She blinked. "Eh? But... you can't keep cats either, right?"
He smirked faintly. "I never said I'd keep them."
Her eyes widened, her expression twisting between confusion and disbelief. She hugged the box tightly to her chest, her voice rising with a mix of worry and accusation. "You're not... going to abandon them too, are you?!"
Kouya nearly rolled his eyes. "What part of that sounded like 'I'll throw them away'?"
He sighed again and explained patiently. "There's a woman who lives downstairs in my building. Everyone calls her the 'Cat Addict.' She loves cats more than anything — feeds the strays, shelters them, even talks to them like they're family. If I bring these two to her, she'll take care of them for sure."
"R-Really? You mean it?" Vigne asked, her voice trembling with hope.
"Of course. You can even come check on them tomorrow."
Vigne stared down at the kittens again. Their tiny paws twitched in sleep, and her gaze softened, filled with something between affection and sorrow.
Then she looked up, eyes shining in the faint light, and spoke in a tone so solemn it almost sounded divine.
"Then, Kouya... I'll entrust them to you!"
Kouya blinked, dumbfounded. "Whoa, whoa — what's with that tone?! You sound like you're passing down the White Emperor's final will!"
He rubbed the back of his neck, sighing. "I'm not Zhuge Liang, alright?! The mythical strategist of the Three Kingdoms whose wisdom supposedly shaped empires — and unlike him, Kouya had zero interest in inheriting any grand mission of feline salvation. I'm just the delivery guy here, not their lifelong caretaker!"