A child sat cross-legged on the grass, arms resting on his knees, staring ahead intently—as if trying to solve a complex puzzle.
Before him sat the white cat, its long tail swaying slowly behind it, its hat slightly tilted to one side.
"So… I was in my room," the boy mused. "Then suddenly, I was in a burning house. There was a woman screaming. Three people chasing me. And then… I ended up here."
He lifted his gaze to the cat, tilting his head slightly.
"Did… you bring me here?"
The cat—who was supposed to be the wise, composed one in this scenario—opened its mouth slightly, an expression of utter bewilderment on its face.
"...What?"
It blinked several times, then sighed deeply, scratching its head with its left paw.
"First of all, I was asleep. Yes, asleep. Peacefully napping on the grass, dreaming of a nice stroll with some cold peach juice… when suddenly, I heard screaming."
It pointed an accusing paw at the boy.
"I opened my eyes just in time to see you falling from the sky… and landing right on top of me!"
The boy's eyebrows shot up.
"I… fell on you?"
"Yes! Boom! Right on my head!" The cat gestured to its slightly crumpled hat. "I thought a meteor had hit me… but turns out it was just a terrified little kid."
The boy lowered his head sheepishly.
"Sorry… I didn't mean to."
Then, under his breath:
"At least I was a soft landing and not an actual meteor…"
The cat sighed but eventually smiled.
"Well, I won't complain. At least my tail's unharmed."
A brief silence settled between them, filled only by the soft rustling of wind through the tall grass.
Then the boy spoke again, still staring at the cat.
"This place… where are we? Is this a dream? Or did I… get transported to another world?"
The cat gazed at the horizon, its blue eyes gleaming like lightning.
"Maybe a dream. Maybe not. But one thing's for sure—this place is nothing like your room, nor that burning house."
It turned back to the boy, a hint of mystery in its voice.
"And perhaps… you didn't come here alone. You might've brought something—or someone—with you, even if you don't remember yet."
The boy blinked slowly.
"Someone…?"
The cat stood up, brushing the grass off its coat, then extended a paw to the child.
"Come on. There's a lot to see… and maybe some answers waiting for you."
Jonathan Weber, the eight-year-old boy, stood beside the white cat on a wide sandy path stretching across the peaceful plains. The sun was setting slowly, painting the sky in hues of gold and orange, while the gentle breeze swayed the grass as if welcoming new travelers.
Jonathan glanced at the cat beside him.
"Where are we going, Mr. Cat?" he asked, curiosity and excitement mixing in his voice.
The cat didn't turn, its eyes fixed on the horizon.
"We're going to a small village up ahead. That's where I live… a quiet place."
Then it glanced at him, its tone light.
"Remind me of your name, boy."
The boy smiled slightly, as if his name were the most precious thing he owned now.
"Jonathan Weber."
The cat raised a brow, then gave a small, genuine smile.
"Jonathan Weber, huh… Good name."
It then gave a slight, dramatic bow.
"I am Mao Mao."
Jonathan blinked in surprise, tilting his head.
"Mao Mao? That's… really a cat's name."
Mao Mao crossed his arms proudly.
"Indeed, but it's a name with history! In this world… it's a name that carries power."
Jonathan chuckled softly, finding this strange cat oddly endearing.
Just then, a wooden cart slowly approached, pulled by four horses.
Mao Mao flicked his tail confidently.
"Ah, our ride's here. Come on, Jonathan. Our real adventure starts now."
The cat leaped onto the cart with ease, and Jonathan followed, his small heart pounding with something new—something that felt like hope.
As the cart reached the edge of the hill, the sky melted into a soft golden glow, bathing the entire village in a dreamlike warmth. Trees swayed in greeting, and the small, arched-roof houses looked like they belonged in a children's storybook.
Jonathan stood beside Mao Mao, his eyes wide with wonder.
"Wow… it's beautiful," he whispered in awe.
Mao Mao smiled faintly, pointing with his tail toward an alley.
"That's the bakery, and there's the old spring… and that square—kids love playing there at dusk."
Sure enough, a group of children were running around, laughing, tossing a small ball between them. Suddenly, the ball flew toward Jonathan by accident. He caught it instinctively, then hesitated before running toward them.
"Can… I play too?"
"Of course!" one of them shouted, and within moments, Jonathan was laughing and running as if he'd known them forever.
Mao Mao, meanwhile, stood to the side, arms crossed, silently watching the boy.
"That child…" he murmured to himself.
"There's a powerful aura around him… I don't know what it is, but I can feel it clearly. Even the weakest with a trace of magical energy… would sense it too."
"Didn't know magical cats were babysitters now," came a mocking voice from behind.
Mao Mao turned to see a tall, scruffy-faced man smirking at him.
"Mock all you want," Mao Mao replied flatly.
"But that boy is far more important than you think."
The man glanced at Jonathan, then shrugged.
"Whatever. You planning to stay like this? We feed you, house you, and in return, you just nap all day?"
Mao Mao didn't answer immediately. Instead, he looked up at the sky, as if something distant weighed on his mind.
"Don't worry… I'll be heading back to the capital soon."
The man shrugged again, but before leaving, he paused.
"Before you go… could you do the village a favor?"
Mao Mao raised a brow.
"And what would that be?"
The man gestured to an old drawing on a nearby wall—a picture of a little girl, about Jonathan's age, with sad eyes. Beneath it, a single word: "Missing."
"Find the lost children," the man said, his voice no longer mocking—just heavy with worry.
Mao Mao looked at the drawing, then back at Jonathan, who was now laughing with the other kids.
After a long silence, the cat finally spoke.
"Fine. I'll do it. But… don't regret the request you just made."