“Y/n? What the are you doing?” Shiro stared at me in horror as I stood atop the monkey bars at the park closest to our work. We pass it on our way home every day, and today, I decided I wanted to stop. I hopped to the next bar, wobbling a bit and almost falling off. “You’re going to break your neck! Get down here!” Shiro shouted at me again, narrowing his eyes as I didn’t listen. I giggled a bit, watching him huff, cross his arms, and turn around.
        “Well, I’m not going to catch you if you fall.” He stated stubbornly, obviously pouting though I couldn’t see it.
        “Awh, come on Shiro! It’s fun! I’m not gonna fall!” I shouted as Shiro turned around, and, at the very moment, I toppled over, barely managing to catch myself. I now hung from the monkey bars like a, well, monkey.
        Smiling sheepishly at my best friend, I stretched my legs so they were as close to the ground as possible, then let myself fall.
        “Owww…” I whined, shaking the foot I landed on. It seems that whenever I jump down from something and land on my feet, sharp needles stab at me, sending shock waves up towards my ankles and flowering my feet in pain. It doesn’t last all that long, but it still hurts.
        “Serves you right,” Shiro sighed, sweeping me off my feet. I squeaked, wrapping my arms around his neck instinctively. Glaring at the taller boy, I stretched my arm out to grab my bag – which I had hung on the side on the monkey bars – as we walked out of the park.
        “We gotta go home. Kuro is probably flipping out by now. Forgot to feed him before we left.” I stared at Shiro as he spoke, a look a disbelief on my face.
        “You forgot to feed Kuro!?”
 

 
        Mrrooww. I shot through the door, scooping up my precious kitten and slipping and sliding on my slippery hardwood floors in my polka-dot socks. I set the fluffy kitty on the counter, pulling his food dish towards me as I dragged his rather large bad out from below the counter. I have no idea why Shiro got a bag this big. I can’t even lift it.
        Opening the bag, I pulled out the semi-large scoop, scooped up some food, and filled Kuro’s bowl. The fluffy, white cat purred happily and began eating.

        Kuro, Shiro. The two most important guys in my life. Kuro; meaning black in Japanese, and Shiro; meaning white. Ironic, isn’t it? Well, that’s the point. When Shiro and I decided to buy a kitten, I picked out the fluffiest, whitest one there was. Kuro’s fur is roughly two inches long, and his eyes are a bright, golden yellow. Shiro, on the other hand, has black hair, the blackest I’ve ever seen, and his eyes are a slightly pale purple. Both my guys have the most beautiful eyes, and they complement each other perfectly. Their hair; black and white, their eyes; yellow and purple, their personalities; complete opposites, yet they adore each other anyways. The perfect pair.