Nam Gyu

A purple-furred cat (how was that even possible?) furiously licked his paw, trying to recover from his sudden and completely unfair transformation. Yesterday, he was Soo Bon—sarcastic, stylish, and, most importantly, human. And today? He was a cat. Today, he was a fluffy, claw-wielding ball of irritation.

And this very lump was sitting on the roof of someone's garage, watching the passersby from above and mentally telling them all to go to hell. Especially that guy in the dark hoodie, who for some reason had stopped and was now looking straight at him.

— What are you staring at, you idiot? — I wanted to bark, but instead all that came out was a ridiculous “Mrrr?”

Cat-Bon immediately regretted the sound. He didn't mrrlk. He never made anything except sarcastic comments and caustic remarks. But now his magnificent voice had turned into this... this meow.

The guy - Nam Gyu, if the cat was even a little interested in the names of strangers - smiled.

— Well, there he is, smiling. As if I’m here for his entertainment.

The cat turned around, demonstratively showing his tail, and was about to leave, but...

Crap.

The paw slipped from the roof, wet from the rain.

And now he’s already flying down, horrified to realize that he can’t even swear.

But the fall did not happen.

Instead, there are warm hands and the stupid, satisfied face of that same guy.

— Now he’s going to say something touching. I can feel it.

The cat closed his eyes, prepared for the worst.