WTBFCY Chapter 38

From the next day onward, he approached Henry only when the mood struck him, gracing the boy with a tail flick. It didn't take long before this became routine—soon enough, he was seeking Henry out daily.

"Snow!"

The face that lit up with such welcome was worth looking at, and the food offered was a delicacy unlike anything he'd tasted in his life. That was why. He hadn't grown attached or anything. He'd never—not once in his entire existence—grown attached to a human.

Gradually, the time he spent loitering near the boy increased. Naturally, he came to understand that Henry was frail, that he wheezed like a sick chicken in the dead of winter and rarely ventured outside the estate.

A month passed. Two months. On a winter day when Snow had grown so accustomed to his name that it felt like his own, Henry couldn't even lean his head out the window. Snow paced through the snow for a long while, waiting, until impatience drove him to leap up and peer into Henry's room.

Many adult humans surrounded Henry. The boy lay in bed with his eyes closed, his face flushed red.

"The fever won't break. This is serious. He could be in real danger if this continues."

"What should we do? Doctor, isn't there something—anything—you can do? Please, save our son!"

"Please, Doctor."

"I need this herb that acts as a fever reducer, but what I have on hand is woefully insufficient. To obtain more, I'd have to venture into the forest or get some from the village across the way. Both are difficult tasks in this blizzard."

Saying this, the elderly human showed Henry's parents a withered, twisted root. Snow, who had poked his head out to view it from outside the window, snorted.

They don't know where that grows? Typical. Humans pretend to be so knowledgeable, yet they know absolutely nothing.

"Oh no. What will become of our Henry?"

"Don't worry, my dear. I'll send every servant in the estate to search for this herb. I'll depart for the village across the way myself immediately. We'll find it, I'm certain. Doctor, please—take care of Henry until we return with the herb."

"I'll do my utmost."

The doctor nodded to the husband, who was embracing and comforting his weeping wife. Between them, Henry's face came into view again for a moment. Snow's gaze touched it, then immediately slid away. He leaped down and ran off with absolute confidence.

He left the estate, passed through snow-covered roads, and ran without pause all the way to the distant forest.

Swish, swish.

The snow had accumulated to a height that could swallow a cat's paws. When he lifted his head, the tall tree he'd targeted stood tilted in the distance, its crown bent halfway over from the weight of accumulated snow.

Crunch!

Snow didn't stop moving, nimbly dodging the occasional clumps of snow that dumped down in the silent forest. He was cold, it was dark, and he was hungry—but he had a clear purpose.

He shook himself vigorously, dislodging the snow that had already piled on his back and head, then ran toward the forest again. In a world entirely white with snow, the black cat stood out starkly.

Before he could lose more body heat, he hurried to burrow between the tree roots and began digging with both paws. The frozen ground with snow packed hard on top resisted his efforts, but he didn't stop. He set his claws and dug desperately, so focused that he failed to notice danger approaching from behind. The moment goosebumps rose across his body and he whirled around—

Yowl!

"Grrrrr!"

Snow leaped straight up in shock and scrambled backward. The pain that wracked his entire body was blinding, but avoiding the beast before him took priority. A wolf. Long-jawed, sharp-toothed, bloodshot eyes. And desperately hungry.

As the wolf approached, drool streaming from its muzzle, Snow's legs went weak. But he gritted his teeth and sprang upward onto the tree beside him.

"Grrrr! Yap, yap, yap!"

The wolf lunged at the same instant Snow moved, missing its prey by a hair's breadth. The cat shot up the tree like an arrow through the opening. The wolf's claws, swung at terrifying speed, struck the innocent ground instead, tearing up snow.

While the maddened wolf barked and slavered below, Snow curled himself as small as possible and hid beneath the shadow of a branch. He was injured. The first blow had gone fairly deep. His black fur was soaking red with blood.

As cold suddenly overwhelmed him, Snow began trembling violently. He was cold and hungry and afraid.

'Snow!'

Henry.

'The fever won't break—he could be in real danger if this continues.'

Henry.

'Come here, Snow!'

He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again. He didn't know how far he could get on legs already shaking, but he couldn't give up. He glanced down. Behind the wolf—which had stretched its neck long, dripping saliva—he could see deeply gouged earth.

The section the wolf had just torn up. Beneath the hollowed snow, the scrap of plant he'd been searching for revealed itself.

Seeing it, Snow raised his head and looked around the tree above him.

After searching for a while, Snow finally spotted what he'd been looking for and looked back down at the wolf beneath the tree. The wolf, driven mad by the blood drops falling from Snow's back, was barking mindlessly.

"Meow."

"Grrrrr! Ra-ark, woof, woof, woof!"

"Mreoooow."

After a few yowls, the wolf—apparently enraged—lost what little reason it had left and began ramming its body against the tree. Its determination to shake Snow loose and devour him was unmistakable. Seeing this, Snow leaped to the tree beside him, waited for the wolf to follow, then moved to the next tree over.

"Graaah! Grrrrr!"

The moment the infuriated wolf rammed into the final tree, massive darkness crashed down on it.

THOOM!

The enormous mass of snow that had accumulated on the great tree fell all at once. With a sound heavy enough to echo through the forest, the wolf vanished into the snow in the blink of an eye.

Thud, thud-thud-thud!

Snow didn't miss his chance. He leaped down from the tree, grabbed the root he'd been after in his mouth until it overflowed, and ran. With every ounce of strength he had. He ran mindlessly, drawing on even the strength he'd used to nurse as a kitten.

When he arrived at the estate, it was midday.

It would have been better if it had been the middle of the night—unfortunately, it was bright daylight. The moment a blood-soaked black cat staggered around the estate, he was spotted immediately. A servant shoveling snow from the garden with a spade yelped and attacked Snow. Drained of strength, he couldn't dodge that brutish strike and collapsed.

Normally he would have avoided it easily and slipped away, mocking the servant.

The servant scooped up his limp body with the spade like trash and flung him over the wall. The herb that had been clenched in Snow's mouth as he flew fell to the ground. The servant who discovered it shouted with joy, picked it up, and ran into the estate.

Thud.

Snow felt the strength drain from his body with the impact of hitting the ground. What filled his blurring vision was pure white snow. Snow, like his own name. As he gazed at that cold, soft snow, something like tiny specks of dust floated and swirled in the distance.

Cat instinct, which he couldn't abandon even in death, made him lift a forepaw to try catching it—but his body wouldn't obey.

"Meow."

Drowsiness came. His eyelids grew unbearably heavy. Henry's face rose beneath his closing lids. The boy, fever broken and healthy, smiling brightly as he spoke.

—Thank you, Snow!

Henry. If you know, treat me well. Pet my fur. Prepare a warm spot for me with a soft cushion under my paws. Give me lots of delicious food.

—You saved my life!

I know. So call me again. Call me Snow and hold me. When I'm in your arms, I feel like I could do anything.

Henry.

But this is the end, isn't it? It must be. Still—he had no regrets.

Blink. When he opened his eyes again, even Snow himself was quite startled.

He'd thought he was dying for certain, yet here he was awake. Apparently some unknown power existed within him that even he didn't know about. When he turned his head just slightly and licked the wound from the wolf with his tongue, he felt no pain whatsoever. No—more than no pain, the wound itself was gone.

What is this—is this that thing humans talked about while throwing stones? That black cats have nine lives. That they're unlucky and should be driven away. He'd mocked those humans as foolish. Good grief, to think it was true. He really did have nine lives, apparently.

Snow sighed at this newly proven fact and shook his head weakly.

Rustle.

Something around his neck made a scraping sound. Only then did Snow realize a collar made of colorful paper was hanging from his neck. Crunch. He grabbed it in his mouth, spat it out because it tasted bad, and got to his feet.

He was inside some wooden box, but fortunately the top was open. This height was nothing.

The moment he leaped up and climbed out of the open box, Snow locked eyes with many humans standing facing him. Startled, Snow froze. The humans who saw him did the same.

Then, among the humans, he spotted a familiar boy. Dark brown hair, soft cheeks, round eyes wide open.

"Meow."

Ah, Henry.

You're healthy. I knew you would be. Though he tried not to show it, his whole body trembled with joy. He climbed down from the box and ran frantically. Henry, who always stretched out both arms to embrace him when he ran over. Snow leaped with all his might toward Henry's arms, imagining being caught in them—

"Meow!"

"Ah—ahhh! Monster!"

Whump!

Shoved back with violent force and dropped to the floor, Snow couldn't process what had just happened for a moment. What was that? Henry had ducked his head and swung both arms to strike him away.

"Kyaaah! It was definitely dead just a moment ago, but it came back to life!"

"Catch it! Don't let it come closer!"

"Kill it—it's a demon! A demon's spawn!"

Snow, who had been standing dumbly on the ground, dodged the humans lunging at him while staring at Henry. His boy still sat hunched over, face drained of color. Trembling, clinging to the human beside him, refusing to look toward Snow.

"Meow."

Henry, it's me.

"Eeek—hiiik!"

It's Snow.

He leaped and jumped his way back to Henry. But when their eyes met again, the boy's pupils were filled with terror. He was trembling all over, just like Snow had when he'd encountered the wolf in the forest.

"G-get away!"

They say human children are underdeveloped and lacking compared to adults—had he forgotten Snow after being gone only a few days? Snow stared up at Henry, unable to believe it. No, even if his memory was bad, this was practically goldfish-level, wasn't it?

"You monster! Disappear!"

But seeing Henry's face twisted with fear and revulsion, he had to accept it. His Henry had forgotten him.

Snow, who had been staring at Henry with his mouth closed, turned away after a moment. He ran, deftly dodging the spades and stones swung at him. As he ran forward, he didn't look back at Henry even once.

Patter-patter.

Right. Black cats have nine lives. Since he had so many, he could give one to Henry. No regrets. The warmth of his arms had been real. The happiness of watching his smile had been real. His name had already become Snow, and he quite liked it—call it payment for the name.

'Snow!'

Still—he would miss the boy's voice calling for him. Even as the black cat ran out powerfully, caught by no one's hands, he kept remembering that gentle voice.