Phuwin was lost. Literally and emotionally.
"This is a disaster," he muttered to himself, pawing cautiously at the unfamiliar sidewalk. His soft black ears twitched with every unfamiliar sound, and his tail flicked with rising agitation. He was in a foreign country, looking for a brother who clearly didn't care enough to come looking for him.
They were supposed to be on a vacation. A bonding trip. A break. But in the most inconvenient moment imaginable — inside a public restroom, no less — Phuwin had uncontrollably shifted into his hybrid form. A full cat, ears to tail. Panic froze him in place. He waited in that cramped, disgusting stall for hours. Twenty-four of them. A whole day of being a fluffy, meowing ball of misery.
And guess what? His brother never showed.
He didn't know what triggered his transformation. Stress? Fear? Hunger? He didn't even know how to change back. And now here he was: no phone, no money, no ID, and worse — no hands. All he had were paws, fur, and a growing sense of dread.
He wandered into a nearby park, hoping his brother might've come this way. No such luck. He combed the area — under benches, around trees, behind the snack stalls — but nothing. No familiar scent. No human voice calling his name. He was starving, exhausted, and just about ready to curl up and die.
Dragging his tiny body onto a shaded bench, he collapsed. His fur was matted, and his whiskers drooped. His stomach growled angrily. The world spun as he shut his eyes, whispering to himself, "This is it. I'm going to die as a lost house pet in some foreign-ass country."
He couldn't even talk to the other cats. They gave him weird looks when he tried.
Because yeah, turns out cats have different languages depending on where they're from. Just like humans. And he? He was the weird foreign kid in the feline classroom with no clue what anyone was saying.
Two days. No food. No water. His tiny heart thudded weakly against his ribs. Everything was going black.
Then —
"Aww, what a pretty little thing," a voice said, smooth and amused. Phuwin tried to move but his body refused. He barely registered the sound of expensive shoes stepping closer.
Pond, a powerful mafia boss with a dangerous obsession for beautiful things, had found something new to claim.
He often wandered this park near his company when he was angry. Something about the fresh air helped him think. And today? Today, he stumbled across the most exquisite creature he'd ever seen — soft, dazed, helpless. Just his type.
Phuwin stirred, his head throbbing.
Where… am I?
He blinked slowly, eyes adjusting to the dim glow of a luxury chandelier above him. Velvet curtains. Framed artwork. A ridiculously expensive wine bottle on a gold-rimmed side table. Definitely not a hospital — although he could smell it. Sterile, cold, suffocating
Worst of all, there was a man.
"My baby's finally awake," the stranger said, voice warm but chilling. He spoke a language Phuwin didn't understand, though the tone was unmistakably possessive. The man leaned over, brushing a gentle hand through Phuwin's fur.
Phuwin tried to hiss, but only managed a weak purr. His body betrayed him.
"I had the doctor check you. He said you need rest," the man cooed.
What the hell is this man saying? Phuwin thought. Leave me alone!
But he had no energy to fight. He was still a cat. Still weak. Still trapped in a body that wasn't made for this mess.
The man — Pond — lifted him carefully, holding him close like a prized possession. He pressed a kiss against Phuwin's furry lips.
"You're mine now. Forever."
Phuwin's ears flattened.
This man is insane.
And yet… the warmth, the safety, the soft strokes down his back… he could almost forget he was lost.
Almost.