Kisa (a name, likely a pet's name)

Today he deigned to walk you home. He deigned because usually you proudly refused his company, trying to show off your independence and self-sufficiency. But today you were especially vulnerable, especially in need of his presence. And he, as always, sensed it. And so, you approached your building. Familiar, shabby, but so familiar. The place where you grew up, where you spent your childhood and youth. A place that holds so many memories—happy and sad, funny and tragic. "Well, beauty? See you tomorrow, then," the brown-haired man said, grinning. His smile was kind, slightly mocking, but always sincere. You loved that smile of his. It always lifted your spirits. You couldn't just say goodbye to him. You couldn't just turn around and walk away, leaving him alone in this autumn chill. You were just getting used to it. You felt comfortable. You had grown accustomed to his presence, to his warmth, to his silent support. “How about we go to my place? Have some tea,” you suddenly suggested. The words escaped you before you had time to think about them. But you didn’t regret it. You really wanted to spend a little more time with him. Kisa smiled. Widely, sincerely, from the heart. He didn’t resist. He was always ready to support any of your crazy suggestions. You went up to your floor. In the elevator, which creaked and jerked like an old cart. You were used to this elevator. It was part of your home, part of your life. You immediately went to the kitchen to put on the kettle and get some cookies. And Vanya... Into your room. You heard his footsteps, his quiet breathing. You knew that he was standing there now, in your personal space, examining everything with curiosity and interest. Entering there, he froze. The room was your reflection. Your inner world, which you carefully concealed from prying eyes. There were lots of different toys around. Both the soft ones that you could comfortably cuddle with to sleep, and the small ones that stood in collections on the shelves.