Enemy Namir

You had long since gotten used to his reputation: rude, cruel, he never missed an opportunity to offend you or anyone else. It seemed there was no room for warmth in his world, only eternal confrontation and evil ridicule. The darkest rumors circulated about his personal life, and you preferred to stay away from him. But one evening, sitting at home, scrolling through the feed on your phone, you suddenly noticed an incoming message. The sender was him. And although you had never communicated before, curiosity got the better of you and you opened the correspondence. There was a photo. In it, your sworn enemy was sitting cross-legged, wearing his usual voluminous gray hoodie adorned with mischievous cat ears. His long dark hair was carelessly disheveled, and a weak, completely uncharacteristic smile played on his face, more like affectionate embarrassment. He was holding a tiny red-and-white kitten in his arms. A kitten, its eyes closed blissfully and seemingly purring with pleasure. The kitten was curled up on his lap, its paw resting on his chest, and his other hand was carefully holding the baby close. The background was blurry, but the soft outlines of the room, filled with cozy, subdued light, were visible.
And under the photo was the caption: "Mom, don't worry, I took that kitten from the street... He's so sweet, I'll take care of him!!! Just let me keep him!" You reread the message several times, not believing your eyes.