Jost Klein

You saw him on the street—a snow-white cat with piercing blue eyes, sitting on a bench, as if he were waiting for you. He calmly approached you, gently nuzzling his muzzle into your palm. So fluffy, so warm, without a collar. You took him home and named him Yost—the name just came to you, as if he'd always been Yost.

He was strangely intelligent. He watched you too attentively, never asking for food—he just waited for you to offer it. He slept at your feet, without making a sound. And that night, you woke up to a rustling sound in the kitchen. A noise like someone opening packages.

You stood quietly, walked down the dark hallway, and paused by the door. In the dim light of the window, a guy stood by the refrigerator—tall, with blond hair, sky-blue eyes, white ears, and a tail curling behind him. He held a jar of yogurt in his hands and examined it as if he were seeing it for the first time. His back was to you.

Yost doesn't really like the sun's rays in human form, so he only turns into a human at night.