Chapter 104
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Chapter 104: Title
France.
"Ugh—"
Hein retched violently upon landing, his first experience of space-crossing nausea making him feel like he’d disgorge the dried fish consumed two days prior.
Having finally emptied his stomach, he glared at Shiviel’s immaculate figure observing his humiliation with amusement. Forgetting his voiceless state, the demon’s accumulated grievances emerged as—
"Meow meow meow meow meow—!!! Meow meow meow meow!!"
(That damned dark fairy Shiviel! Your garbage teleportation formation can’t even—)
Shiviel’s eye twitched as he cursed his innate ability to comprehend feline speech—a racial trait persisting even through his fall from grace.
"Mission accomplished," the dark fairy declared airily, ignoring the black kitten’s murderous glare. "I’ll be taking my leave to report to Lance. Do try not to perish before my next visit."
A silver-haired ear flicked mockingly. "Ah, but I forget—you’re trapped in this… adorable form. No demonic powers, no access to your storage space…"
"I’ll check periodically. Should real danger arise, you may beg for assistance." Pale fingers brushed imaginary dust from dark robes. "But remember—if Michael discovers your true nature while you’re this helpless…"
Hein’s fur bristled at the unspoken threat. The bastard’s parting words—"You’re on your own"—echoed cruelly as Shiviel dissolved into shadows.
Leaning dizzily against cold stone, Hein vowed eternal vengeance. His trembling paws finally found purchase on the tower window ledge moments later. The ten-meter drop to cobblestones spun nauseatingly below—how had he never noticed this height before?
Retreating from the ledge, the kitten navigated safer descending routes with bitter realization: magical deprivation rendered even basic mobility challenging. His pitiful mewl echoed through spiral staircases.
By the time he reached Loral’s second-floor chamber, exhaustion weighted his tiny frame like lead. The balcony that once welcomed effortless leaps now loomed impossibly high.
The unlocked door offered cold comfort—even reaching the handle required energy he no longer possessed. Collapsing against oak panels, Hein’s labored breathing gradually steadied. Few knew the black cat’s true identity… but how long could this charade last?
When Loral returned, he found a black cat sprawled at his doorstep, limbs splayed across the floor with its tail swaying gently in slumber.
It struck him as peculiar – this kitten usually waited on the bed, yet today it had dozed off guarding the entrance.
Loral extended his foot in a half-hearted nudge, anticipating the usual evasion. Since being rescued, this creature had maintained constant vigilance.
Though his brother insisted the feline favored him, Loral perceived only wariness in those gleaming eyes.
To his surprise, the kick connected.
Instead of darting away, the sleeping cat merely twitched its paws and rolled over, embracing Loral’s ankle with soft ebony limbs. Delicate pink pads peeked through dark fur as it slept through the disturbance, impervious to earthly concerns.
Cats naturally sleep through half their lives, kittens even more so.
Exhausted from his long trek to beat Loral’s return, Hein – stripped of magic and confined to feline form – remained oblivious to his gradual assimilation of catlike habits.
Loral’s brow furrowed at the unusual clinginess.
During Hein’s forced metamorphosis, the demon-turned-cat had grown accustomed to Loral’s scent. What humans interpret as affection, felines recognize as territorial marking.
Retrieving his foot, Loral pushed open the door only to feel sudden weight on his instep. The black cat now perched on his shoe like some living ornament. After brief hesitation, Loral hoisted the creature by its scruff into their chambers.
Hein awoke mid-swing, limbs dangling helplessly. Before he could protest, he landed on the Fluffy carpet watching Loral unfasten his snow-white cloak. Golden clasps glittered at the shoulders as the garment slid away, revealing the Holy See’s austere pajamas beneath.
Predictably, Loral headed for his evening bath. Hein yawned into the luxurious carpet, its plush fibers cushioning his form as sleep reclaimed him.
This time, awakening came through insistent shaking. Hein blinked up at Loral’s impassive face, schooling his features into feline nonchalance despite nearly leaping out of his fur.
"Odd behavior today." Loral’s calm tone belied the scrutiny in his gaze as he carried his charge to the feeding area.
Twilight had deepened into full night – later than usual. Hein’s stomach growled as Loral produced two bowls and a pouch of dried fish. "The maid reports you skipped meals."
Caught between pride and hunger, Hein’s tail lashed. He’d maintained self-sufficiency after initial dependence… until today’s exhaustion betrayed him. Yet the fishy aroma proved irresistible.
When Hein lunged for the water bowl, Loral intercepted. "Quite the convincing act," he murmured, fingers brushing vulnerable throat fur. "Spill anything, and you’ll bunk on the balcony."
The implied threat stiffened Hein’s whiskers. He lapped carefully, hyper-aware of Loral’s observation.
"Whose scent is this?" The question came casually, fingers tracing Hein’s spine.
Hein’s ears flattened instinctively. Today’s clandestine meetings… but how to explain? Channeling Lady Lilith’s pleased reaction earlier, he butted Loral’s wrist with affectionate purrs.
"First proper affection since your arrival." Loral dabbed the cat’s muzzle, offering a fish scrap. "What mischief prompts this sudden charm?"
Hein focused on devouring his meal, attributing Loral’s musings to habitual loneliness. The Son often addressed him like some confessional companion, oblivious to (or ignoring) his mute status.
Thus the demon missed the calculating glint in holy eyes – a gaze seeing beyond fur and whiskers to the truth lurking beneath.
