“Hey, wake up, kid,” was the first sentence Chen heard that morning.

Between his barely opened eyes, he spotted Heechul inches away. The man was dressed as eccentrically as his personality. Chen hadn’t noticed it yesterday because of the rain, but the man had a rather interesting fashion sense. His ragged flower boy hair style was paired with ripped jeans and a shirt that had red-haired anime girl in a skin tight suit. Thrown on top his shoulders was a weathered pseudo-army jacket.

“Not a kid,” he murmured. His dazed state  weakened his protest.

Chen shifted on the worn mattress, disturbing the cats that had gathered during his sleep. He blinked. Sleep clung to his eyes lulling them back into darkness of slumber. The springs of the bed protested as he leaned back into them.

“I said rise and shine, kid,” Heechul repeated.

Heechul cut short Chen’s next complaint, “Patrol is coming by in twenty; we don’t have time for you to whine. You’ll gain that right when you’re ten years older than me.”

Chen sat up. Forcing his eyes open, he wormed his way off the bed. Resting in places like this generally counted as trespassing - spending a night in jail wasn’t pleasant in his experience.

“Grab Kitten,” Heechul jerked his head toward the other mat, “here.”

A second later a mass was tossed into Chen’s hands. It took a moment for him to recognize that it was a blue blanket. It was a cheap one that retail drug stores usually had. Seeing how Heechul was gesturing toward the other mattress, Chen assumed it was for the tiny furball that he saved last night.

Chen walked over and found a sea of cats lounging on the mat. He almost didn’t see the gray mass hidden amongst the blacks and browns of the surrounding cats. Chen reached a hand in and scooped the little thing into the blanket. He wrapped it up almost like a baby. It whined and feel back to sleep.

“Everyone wake up and follow me!” Heechul commanded.

As though they understood him, the various cats  stretched out and jumped from their respective roosts. Each landed in Heechul’s proximity. Chen had heard of crazy cat ladies before, but this was the first time he had seen a crazy cat man.

Heechul picked up a few brown bags and moved towards the door. The cats followed suit. Perhaps, it was the strangeness lingering from last night but Chen followed the chain of cats out the door.

Moments later they landed in a park. It was too early in the morning for there to be more than the rare jogger. The gloom hanging in the sky as a reminder of last night’s storm didn’t encourage outdoor expeditions either.

“Kid, catch,” Heechul pulled something from the bag.

It was a small bottle that look more like an oversized medicine dropper. Inside was milk that was a little darker than cow’s milk. Chen stared at the bottle.

“Kitten survived the night, so he should be hungry,” Heechul directed, “Hold it to and keep it tilted up so she doesn’t swallow air.”

Chen obligated. The kitten meowed and wrapped its tiny white paws around the . The rain had obscured the whiteness of the kitten’s feet and belly from Chen. The weakness of the sick thing had hidden the kitten’s stoned polished green eyes.

Yolling filled the air from the nearby armada of felines. They twisted around his feet, threatening his balance. Chen pushed them away with his feet, lightly.

“Stop complaining,” Heechul sighed, “since I was there anyway I brought you guys a snack.”

Chen heard the gritty sound of cans opening. Meows followed accordingly.

“Don’t think this is going to be a regular thing,” Heechul chided the cats, softly.

He opened more cans and placed them sporadically around the dew-laden grass. Tapping a thin gray one on the head, Heechul scolded playfully, “You guys better not expect handouts again - I don’t need fat, lazy cats that can’t fend for themselves.”

Heechul stood. Crumbling the formerly full bag, he tossed it into the nearest trash can.

“Oh, it looks like Kitten’s extra hungry,” Heechul stated.

He pulled items from a second bag that Chen hadn’t noticed. It was filled with basic kitten supplies: a meager amount of formula, a small pack of bottles, and a bag of house training pads. Heechul poured more kitten formula into a second bottle, and then tossed the rest of the times back into the bag.

“Kitten is going to need more than one,” Heechul left the second bottle by Chen’s feet.

“Kitten?” Chen asked.

Heechul shrugged,”Once you name a thing, you become responsible for it - attached to it. Unless you plan to care for it; don’t name it.”

Chen nodded, looking down at the small fry. Kitten would have to do until Chen found a real owner for him. The little guy drank quickly, finishing the second bottle soon after the first.  

“Here,” Heechul shoved the one of the many bags loitering the ground at him.

Chen picked it up, balancing it precariously with the kitten in the other arm.

“You should have everything that you need to pass onto the next guy,” Heechul said.

Before Chen could find someone to pass Kitten onto, he decided he needed a shower. His clothes were dusted with cat dander and fur. Although the scent didn’t bother him too much, he probably had the musky smell of dried rain that mixed with the fur to form a drowned cat smell.

He found the closest, cheapest motel nearby. He left Kitten on the bed, hoping the thing wouldn’t make a sound. Places like this didn’t allow for pets and he hoped to finish his shower before leaving.

Re-energized by the storm, he reached into the dimensional gap without a problem. He pulled out a set of clothes and paused. He exchanged the plain white shirt for a slightly more formal dress shirt. If planned to leave Kitten with someone, he should at least make a good impression.

Then he hopped into the cramped shower. While the warm water danced over his skin, Chen thought of all the possible owners. Kai was automatically out. The guy hopped from one casino hotel to another, chasing the luck buzz of gambling. This wasn’t even account for the fact that Chen had nearly maimed the guy. Suho wasn’t a good choice either. He had a large mansion, yes, but he was never home. Chen wasn’t content to leave Kitten to a maid all day. There was Xiumin, but Chen wasn’t certain if he had a place or bounced from acquaintance to acquaintance. Xiumin was still a better choice than the others in their pantheon that Chen hadn’t ever spoken to.

Sungmin was also an option, Chen thought with a sigh. This was going to be more of a hassle than he’d predicted.

He’ll start with Sungmin and jump to Xiumin if he had to. If worse came to worse, he could always force a human to care for it. That wasn’t the optimal choice since bending a mind to his will had unpredictable results.

Once he was dressed, Chen headed off to the Minute Cafe with Kitten in tow. The bar like coffee shop was fuller than normal so it took a few minutes before Chen had a chance to speak to Sungmin.

“Sorry,” Sungmin sighed, “I would, but it’s hard enough to keep this place afloat with only one mouth to feed.”

After  a pause, Sungmin commented, “Although more people been coming around lately.”

Chen frowned at both statements. There was certainly more young people in the store than normal. The cafe had lost some of the timeless, impermeable quality that had drawn Chen to it. After finishing his coffee, Chen hopped off his stool to search for Xiumin.

It was unusual for Chen to approach him first. Stranger still was the small life wriggling in Chen’s arms. It was small and glowing with life unlike the man that held it. Xiumin closed his eyes and thought.

“Well,” Chen growled, interrupting his ponderings, “Are you going to take her?”

“I apologize, but my apartment forbids pets,” Xiumin fibbed.

From his experience, Xiumin knew that Chen had a limited net of people that he could pull favors from. If he knew Chen well enough, Xiumin would generally be last on any of those lists. Considering how Chen generally disliked humanity as well as most of the deities in their pantheon, Xiumin could use this to advantage.

“Hell,” Chen ground the dirt under his feet into a fine powder.

Xiumin’s predictions were right from the looks of things.

“You could always ask that human you met before,Lay,” Xiumin mused aloud.

Chen glared at him. Xiumin could almost feel twin holes burrowing themselves into his eyes.

Xiumin stated, in an equally contemplative tone, “He seems to be the sort that would care for a pet.”

Chen began a staring contest with the ground. It took a little more effort to suppress his grin. It was times like this that Xiumin remembered that Chen was only two. Chen’s complete unwillingness to things that he thought was beneath him was ridiculous even a human child knew better than this at age two. A frown threatened to sabotage Xiumin’s calm visage as he remembered that Chen had no one to guide him like a human child would have.

That had been a mistake, Xiumin reflected, a terrible misjudgment of his.

If Xiumin could find a method for Chen to even tolerate humanity, then perhaps when the time came Chen wouldn’t destroy it. If he had to use a weaken kitten to do that so be it.

In the middle of his thoughts, Chen had left. As he dipped into the time stream, Xiumin grinned.

When he glanced out the window, Lay saw the man he met a few days ago leaning by the brick gate. Chen, he remembered, was beckoning for him. Lay pointed at his chest to double check. Chen responded by gesturing harsher and faster without breaking eye contact.

“I’ll be right back,” Lay said.

The only response Lay got was from Tao who commented, “If you’re going to the vending machines, bring me back juice.”  

He darted out of the lecture hall. Lay wondered, what could he want?

The harsh expression on Chen’s face made the matter seem urgent. He walked faster at that thought.

What he hadn’t expected was a kitten, tiny and precious. Wrapped in the blue blanket, it seemed more like a valuable present than anything else.

Instinctively, Lay had reached for the small one. Cradling it in his arms, Lay cooed at it. He’d always wanted a pet.

“What’s his name?” Lay inquired slowly.

Chen observed him a second before replying, “She’s yours now name her whatever you want.”

Lay paused to consider the possibilities.

Chen cringed at Lay’s horrible naming sense. Orange, of all things to name the kitten, orange. From Lay’s mind, Chen had gleamed that the awful name had partially been his fault. Apparently, Chen sounded like the Mandarin word for orange.

It could’ve been worse, Chen thought. Lay could’ve named it Stripes or Mittens after a physical feature. There was always the shudder worthy Fluffy too.

It didn’t matter. All that mattered was Chen had safely passed Kitten, Orange, and all the kitten supplies onto Lay. He had relieved himself of his responsibilities.  

A/N: Sorry for not updating last week, I was busy. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. What do you think of Lay's terrible naming sense? I changed Orange from a male to female.