little white fluffy thing

hanbyul/semi

ficlet | 528 words

They have been neighbours for about 3 years. Not the best of friends most of the time – yet still, neighbours. They do not talk unnecessarily, unless they’re bickering (over the most trivial matters; like “excuse me, your shoe is crossing over to my line” or “you were too loud yesterday – my cat couldn’t sleep with all the noises your ‘non-existent’ band was making” – in short, they’re just constantly, simply looking for excuses to piss the other off.

Others would say, “they just need a reason to speak to each other” but neither is about to sacrifice their pride for the truth (that they secretly harbour crushes on each other)

Now back to the cat topic – Hanbyul has such a strong displeasure for those creatures with sharp claws that bare their teeth when they hiss; no matter how adorable they can get when they enlarge their little black eyes or mew ever so softly, asking for attention.

Semi, on the other hand, completely adores the precious little ones (almost convinced she’s going to end up as an old lady with 99 cats as companion). Her little white Siberian is her family, her best friend, her soul mate – pretty much the most important thing in her life. He knows all of her secrets, he defends her home and guards Semi like the proud knight he is.

And he certainly shares the same amount of disdain as his owner – especially for the boy who lives next door.

But as though as he knows something – a fact even the two human beings are too blind to realise, Hanbyul is the first person he runs to for help that day.

The vocalist doesn’t speak nor understand cat language, but it didn’t take much for him to realise what’s going on when smoke suddenly fills his nose.

“Fire,” he gasps.

Semi knows she owes everything to him – her whole life to Jang Hanbyul. If he hadn’t broke down the door himself, and braved through the flames while waiting for the firemen to come; she would’ve become a roasted meat for her cat’s dinner.

“You hate me,” she coughs out the remaining smoke she had inhaled earlier, eyes darting nervously towards him as she wraps the jacket tighter around her body.

“Says who?” he shoots back, coughing a little too as a couple of paramedics fuss around him, asking him the usual procedure questions which he answers with either a nod or a shake.

“You’re always picking fights with me.”

“Most of the time, I was just defending myself.”

She takes a step closer and tentatively places a hand on his injured forearm. “I’m sorry.”

He smiles, chuckles slightly (which appears to be painful when he suddenly lets out a wince) before saying, “Me too.”

“Thank you,” she says in a voice barely above a whisper.

“Say thanks to your cat too. He came to find me. Hey, I’ll see you at the hospital?”

She nods. “See you.”

They are still neighbours, best of friends even (and sometimes, a little more than that) Between them, the cat still stands proud and protective over his owner – but he doesn’t give Hanbyul a hard time anymore.