Jongin hadn't been at their house for very long, but he still didn't like it when the humans left - which was pretty often.

He'd never admit it to anyone though. 

It's because the house is pretty big for a cat, and it feels awfully empty when he's the only one there. He gets lonely sometimes too, without the sounds of dialogue taking place in the living room or passionate arguing in the kitchen; even though he hates it when the humans yell, somehow it's better to be scared than to be alone. He prefers screaming over the silence that otherwise consumes the house. Without noise, he thinks the humans have left him for good. He doesn't want them to leave. He tells himself it's because they feed him and keep him warm, but he knows it's because he's just scared of nearly dying again and having food served to him out of a tin was easier than having to catch a bird or mouse himself. 

So he scampers down the empty hallways and cries out for someone to find him; for Kirika to walk out of her room as if she'd never left with that same cheerful grin, or for her father to grumble as he appeared outside of his office or for her mother to look at him with the same look she always gives him. 

But nobody comes. 

The house is empty. 

He's alone again today. 

He doesn't mind it too much though. 

Kirika always refills his water bowl before she leaves, and fills up his food bowl with cat food. It comes from a tin though, so it's not as good as the fresh chicken she sometimes gives him, but it still tastes good. 

So he doesn't mind that he's left alone for a little while. 

And she always says goodbye in the same way. She pats his head and scratches the spot just under his chin, ignoring the disgusted look the feline gives her as she smiles at him and he suppresses the feeling of happiness welling in his chest. 

"I'll be back soon Mr. Cat!" she cheers each time. "D