The first thing I heard when I woke up was the sound of soft, rhythmic purring.
Pheno had made himself at home—stretched like a king across the top of my blanket, his paw lazily pressed against my chin like *I* was the guest on *his* bed. I barely managed to slide out from under him without disturbing the royal furball.
My muscles still ached from the fight. Every movement reminded me that yes, last night had *actually* happened. No dream. No hallucination. Just pure, bat-swinging chaos.
I winced as I pulled on my hoodie and made my way to the kitchen.
It was strangely quiet.
No clatter from Lyra's side of the house. No scent of eggs or burnt toast. Nothing but the faint hum of the fridge and the squeaky hinge on the kettle I flipped on.
"Coffee it is," I muttered, grabbing the last sachet of instant from the cupboard.
As the water boiled, I tapped my phone awake.
**3 missed messages from school group**
**No classes today. Gov't declared national holiday.**
**Something about elections.**
I blinked at the screen.
"…So I got out of bed for no reason."
A slow groan escaped my throat as I took the first sip of that cheap, burnt-tasting coffee and flopped onto the sofa.
Lyra was still asleep in her room. Pheno hadn't moved an inch—just rolled over and claimed the warm spot I'd left behind. I watched him twitch in his sleep, probably fighting ghosts in his dreams.
"Great," I mumbled. "My cat has more going on than me today."
After a few minutes of mindless scrolling, it hit me.
*I don't have cat food.*
Last night I'd fed Pheno some leftover rice and milk, which he seemed to accept out of desperation. But today? That fluffball was going to expect something proper.
I slipped into my sandals and zipped up my hoodie.
Destination: the convenience store.
—
The store wasn't too far, and the air outside was cool enough to make the walk feel refreshing. The front shutters were half-open, and I could already hear the hum of the fridge units inside.
I pushed open the glass door. The bell above jingled softly.
Sunny wasn't at the counter.
Instead, a girl stood behind the register, casually chewing on a straw and scrolling through her phone.
She looked up.
"Morning," she said, raising a brow. "You look like you got run over by a bicycle gang."
I blinked. "That's... honestly not far off."
She laughed. "I'm Lehya. You're a friend of Sunny's, right?"
I hesitated. "Uh... yeah. I guess I am."
"Poor guy," she smirked, folding her arms. "He finally made a friend, and it's someone with even more eyebags than him."
I laughed. "Wait, *he* has eyebags?"
"You ever seen a raccoon in a hoodie? That's Sunny at 9 PM on a Friday."
I laughed harder than I meant to. "He's... different."
"Yeah," she said with a crooked smile. "But he's kind of cool. Talks less, works more. Sleeps in the backroom on Sundays like an old man."
We both chuckled, and for a moment, it felt normal. Just two people poking fun at their socially-awkward mutual.
"He always stares like he's planning your murder," I added.
"Oh, don't worry. If Sunny wanted you dead, you'd already be a ghost."
"I feel so safe."
Just then, the door jingled behind me.
A familiar presence.
Before I could turn around—*whack*.
A gentle but purposeful smack landed on the back of my head.
"Ow—!"
Sunny walked past me wordlessly, expression unreadable, hoodie half-zipped like he'd just woken up.
"You two done?" he asked, tone dry as ever.
Lehya smirked behind the counter. "Speak of the raccoon."
"Cute," Sunny said, grabbing the bag of cat food I had just picked up. He placed it on the counter and tapped the register.
I moved to pay.
He swiped the screen before I could.
Then tipped himself **20 percent**.
"Hey!" I shouted, snatching the screen back. "You're not a fancy restaurant waiter!"
"Local hero tax," he said flatly.
I growled and stabbed the screen until it showed **0 tip**.
"There. Fixed."
Lehya watched the entire exchange with her mouth half-covered, clearly holding back laughter.
"You guys are hopeless," she muttered.
Sunny handed me the bag and turned without another word. But I caught the faintest smirk tugging at the edge of his lips as he walked into the back room.
I shook my head, smiling. "He's gonna be a problem."
"He already is," Lehya said.
—
Back home, Pheno had migrated from my bed to the top of the fridge, looking down at me like he was judging how long I took.
"Relax, your highness," I muttered, tossing the bag onto the kitchen counter.
As I opened it, he made a war screech and leapt onto the floor, skidding like a bowling ball into a stack of utensils.
"PHENO—!"
He meowed loudly, spinning in circles as I tried to scoop food into a bowl. He climbed onto my leg, pawed at my hand, nearly tripped me.
I set the bowl down.
Before I could blink, he shoved his face in it and started eating like he hadn't been fed since birth.
In the process, he knocked over the bowl, stepped into the food, walked it all over the tiles, and then ran a victory lap around the kitchen with a piece of kibble stuck to his tail.
"You're a menace."
He paused, looked up at me mid-chew, and meowed innocently.
"Yeah," I said, wiping my hands on a towel. "Real angel."
I cleaned up what I could and collapsed onto the bed again.
Pheno jumped up a minute later and curled beside me, tail flicking lazily.
For a while, I just lay there, listening to the distant sound of a TV someone left on next door.
And thinking.
About last night.
About the fight.
About how good it felt to finally hit back. To *not* be the kid in the bathroom waiting for it to end.
And about Sunny.
He fought like it was instinct. Like his body already knew what to do.
Me?
I just swung and hoped it landed.
I should learn something. Karate? Boxing? Taekwondo?
I imagined myself in a gi, doing some cool move... then tripping over my own foot and faceplanting into a wall.
"…Nah."
Not me.
Probably not.
Probably.
I reached over and scratched Pheno behind the ears.
He purred, satisfied, as if he agreed with me.