While I was working on my other Cat Returns story, From the Heart, I started thinking about how Baron and Muta might've met. So, here are my thoughts on the matter. Hope you like it!

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He had finally lost them. He didn't know how, and he didn't particularly care how. He was just glad he could finally take a break. And now he had to figure out where he was and where he was gonna get some grub…

He didn't recognize the place, which was strange because Renaldo Moon had been all over Tokyo, from one side of the city to the other. But the place he was in was something else.

It was like a tiny village of western-style houses. Actually, that's what it was, a tiny village. In the center of the little cobblestone circle was a stone tower with some kind of bird on top. Renaldo thought it kinda looked like a chicken, but he couldn't be sure.

But for some odd reason, his eyes were drawn to one house in particular. It was smaller than the rest, and it was built in a different style than the others surrounding it. It was painted a cheerful green and white, and there were two pots of bright flowers on either side, with a little red mailbox and chair in front. He didn't know what, but there was definitely something up with that house. So, being the curious cat he was, he waddled over to the little house and put his large paws onto one of the windows and peered inside.

It was a nice house. There was a cabinet with a shelf on one wall, and next to it was a small table with baskets of apples and lemons and several jars on it, and on the bottom of the table was a rack full of bottles. Beside that was a tall blue-and-white cabinet, like a pantry. There were lots of plants and clocks scattered around the room, and sunny yellow wallpaper with a bright green trim covered the walls. On the back wall was a desk with a lamp, a feather pen and inkpot, and a towering stack of books. Actually, the entire back wall was lined with shelf upon shelf of books. It was a place he wouldn't mind living in himself.

"Can I help you?" a voice asked behind him, and Renaldo spun around, embarrassed he'd been caught peeping into someone's home.

The owner of the voice was a cat, just like him, but there were some pretty major differences. For one thing, the cat was wearing a white coat with long tails, white slacks, a red vest, and blue bow tie. Balanced between his orange ears was a white top hat, and a slender orange tail stuck out the back. On his hands, yes hands, were white gloves and on his feet were black shoes, the toes scuffed from wear. Wrapped in one arm was a brown paper bag, and the other held a wooden cane. His jade-green eyes stared back at him, not angry exactly, but merely… curious.

"Did you hear me?" the cat asked again, shifting the bag around in his arms as he stood there.

Renaldo nodded.

The cat in front of him tilted his head slightly. "Can I help you?" Not only was this cat dressed strange, he had a weird, foreign accent, although he spoke Japanese fluently as though he had spoken it his entire life.

Renaldo shook his head. "Well, then." The cat strolled forward, his shoes clacking on the cobbled street. "Would you excuse me?" he asked, and Renaldo noticed he was standing directly in front of the door. He scooted over, and the cat reached into a pocket on his pants and withdrew a small, gold key. He inserted the key into the lock and turned it, and then he swung open one of the doors. Renaldo had thought that was that and was about to walk off when the cat leaned back out the door and asked, "Would you like to come in?"

Renaldo was stunned. Did that cat just ask him to come in? "I really don't mind," he said. When Renaldo didn't move, he shrugged. "Suit yourself." He disappeared back inside the little house, but he left the door open.

What the heck was this cat thinking? For all he knew, he could be some mass murderer or something… which, in a sense, he was. But really, what was he thinking?

Renaldo was about to waddle off when his sharp nose caught a delicious scent wafting out from the open door. Curiosity overcame him once again and he tiptoed back over to the door and peeked inside.

The cat had taken off his coat and hat and hung them, along with his cane, on a hat stand near a desk in the back. He was now standing in front of an old-fashioned stove stirring something in a pot. Next to the pot was a large teakettle, white steam floating out the mouth. Whatever he was making, it smelled absolutely divine, and before he could stop himself, his enormous stomach rumbled.

The cat swiveled his head to face the blushing cat. "Are you sure you don't want to come inside?" he asked, a wide grin plastered on his face.

Renaldo sniffed. "Whatcha makin'?" he asked gruffly, refusing to meet the cat's green eyes.

The cat turned back to his stove. "Actually, I'm making a tomato sauce for spaghetti," he answered, lifting the wooden spoon out and sniffing the red sauce. "Would you like to try some?" He had extended his arm and the spoon with a dollop of the sauce on it toward Renaldo.

Normally, Renaldo would probably have been very suspicious. He didn't know this cat very well… as far as he knew, those cats could have paid him to poison him, as revenge. But, ignoring his better judgment and instead letting his stomach lead the way, he shuffled inside the little house and up to the cat, who was still smiling. Casting a suspicious glance up at the orange cat, he cautiously licked the red sauce off the spoon.

When the spoon was clean, Renaldo stepped back as the cat tossed the spoon into a sink and pulled out another one.

Surprised, Renaldo had to close his eyes as he savored the sauce. It was probably… no, definitely… the best thing he had ever tasted. It beat out all those fish he'd eaten from that little lake, and anything else he had ever eaten in all the years he'd been alive, which were quite a few.

The cat had turned back to his stove and was now dumping a bunch of noodles into a second pot, but the smile had not left his face. "Because you're not choking, I'm assuming you liked it?" he asked, amusement glinting in his jade eyes.

Renaldo nodded vigorously. The cat chuckled before going back to stirring the noodles. "I know this may seem sudden, but would you like to stay for dinner?" He turned back to look at Renaldo. "Honestly, the sauce tastes better on the noodles."

Renaldo didn't even give it a second thought. "Sure," he said eagerly. At least he knew where he'd have a fully belly that night.

The cat's grin grew even wider. "Wonderful!" he said. "It should be ready in about ten minutes. There's a bathroom upstairs if you'd like to wash up." He used his spoon to gesture at the staircase, little droplets of water sprinkling the rug beneath his feet.

Renaldo shrugged before strolling over to the stairs and climbing up them. When he was on the second floor, he waddled down the hallway, searching for the bathroom. However, a different room caught his eye first.

Deciding it wouldn't hurt to just take a quick peek, he nosed the cracked door open further and peered inside. The room was dark because the window was covered with a lacy curtain but, being a cat, he could see in the dark, so it wasn't a problem.

Underneath the window was a single bed, covered with a lavender quilt and fluffy white pillows. A large wardrobe stood against another wall, and on the wall opposite was an ivory piano that seemed to glow in the few beams of sunlight that seeped in through the curtains.

Scanning the room, he was about to close the door when he saw something white out of the corner of his eye. Venturing inside just a step, he realized it was another cat. He was about to apologize for coming inside when he also realized that the cat was not moving.

Taking another step further, he scrunched up his face and scrutinized the strange cat. It was white, dressed in a scarlet dress, therefore obviously making the cat female. A large, lavender sunhat was balanced on her head between her delicate ears, and in her gloved hands she clutched a bouquet of pink and white lilies. Her aquamarine orbs stared straight ahead without even a glimmer shining in them as a shaft of dim sunlight cut across her lovely face.

Obviously the cat was dead. It wasn't moving at all, just standing there like a figurine in a shop's window. And yet, Renaldo didn't feel as creeped out as he should have felt. Instead, he felt sorrow's gentle tug on his heartstrings, and he had to steel himself so as not to burst into tears.

Maybe it's his dame, he thought sadly, gazing at the motionless cat's glazed eyes. Probably shouldn't be in here anyway.

Quietly, Renaldo slipped out of the room and gently eased the door shut, once again concealing the lady cat in her lonely bedroom. Then he proceeded down the hall until he found the cat's bathroom.

Once he'd cleaned his paws he came back downstairs, and saw that the cat had placed two plates on the table. They were heaped with noodles and drizzled with the red sauce, strange utensils set beside the plates, and two teacups filled with still-steaming tea.

"Please, have a seat," the cat said, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

Renaldo padded over and cautiously pulled out the chair before carefully sitting down, cringing at the numerous creaks and groans emitted. However, the cat took no notice and carefully unfolded his napkin and placed it in his lap. "I presume you have a name?" he said, more as a question than a statement. He nodded, but the cat seemed unsatisfied with the answer. "I'll introduce myself first then. I am Baron Humbert von Gikkengin, but most just call me Baron." Renaldo glanced up to see a gloved hand in front of his face, and the cat patiently waited until he finally took a careful hold of it.

"That's a pretty weird name you got there," Renaldo said, examining one of the utensils in his paws. "Your owner name you that?"

The cat baron smiled slightly. "No, the artisan who created me did," he replied quietly, twirling the noodles around his fork.

"Artisan? What's that?" Hungrily, Renaldo plunged the fork heaped with reddened noodles into his large mouth. He noted that the sauce tasted even better drizzled on the noodles.

"An artist, someone who creates art," he said.

Renaldo paused a moment. "Hold on a second," he said, setting down his fork. "Are you tryin' to tell me you ain't real?"

Silently, Baron Humbert von Gikkengin began to unbutton his vest, and then his white shirt beneath as Renaldo watched with a frown. He then slipped an arm out from the sleeve and held it up to Renaldo's stunned gaze.

It was quite obviously made of wood, and that the orange coloring was simply the work of some paints. A wooden ball joined the place where his forearm connected to his bicep, as did one in the place between his shoulder and bicep and where his wrist joined his forearm. The cat then rotated his arm, and it moved almost mechanically, twisting back into positions that most certainly break a normal cat's arm. Not only that, but his arm was shaped differently than one of Renaldo's front legs. It was very similar to a human's, as far as his knowledge went.

After a moment, the cat slid his arm back into his shirt and redid all the buttons before returning to his meal. "I hope that demonstration answered your question," Baron remarked, taking a sip of his tea. He lifted his head and fixed his green eyes on Renaldo's shocked face. "Do you have a name as well, or will I have to keep addressing you as 'you'?" he asked, tilting his head.

Renaldo panicked. There was a chance that if he revealed his true identity to this mechanical cat that he would recognize him and turn him into the authorities. Then again, this cat had been incredibly kind to him, inviting a complete stranger into his house and offering him dinner, and he was having a really hard time not being a pig…

That was it. 'Pig.'

"Muta," he replied gruffly, focusing his attention on his dinner instead of the cat in front of him.

"Muta… that's an unusual name." Baron shrugged. "But I suppose you didn't get to pick it, hmm?" He grinned. "I bet your family is missing you now, huh?"

Renaldo, now 'Muta' he supposed, shook his head. "Ain't got one."

Baron seemed shocked. "You don't have a family?" he said, astonished.

"Nah. Grew up on the streets. Didn't do half bad, if I do say so myself. Hey, somethin' the matter?"

Baron's eyes were cast downward as he fiddled with the napkin on his lap. Muta cocked his head and frowned as the cat nervously took a breath. "I… I have an extra room upstairs," he began quietly, his voice wavering hardly enough for most to notice, but it did not escape Muta's sharp ears. "It gets awfully lonely by myself. I'm willing to offer it to you, Muta, if you would like it."

Muta was astounded. He was in such shock that he dropped his utensil, and it noiselessly fell to the rug. No one had ever offered him such an arrangement, and frankly, he was touched. This cat had no idea who he was, where he came from, not even his real name, and yet here he was suggesting a complete and total stranger could move in with him.

"I know we don't know each other very well," Baron continued anxiously, "but this place is a refuge for the lost and the lonely. If you don't have a place to go…"

"You're really gonna offer a room in your house to some strange cat?" Muta asked. "I mean, come on. I could be a serial killer for all you know."

Baron looked up. "Yes, that's true. For the limited information I possess of you, you could be." His straight mouth gradually curled upward into a wide grin, his jade irises twinkling with amusement. "But… I think you're far too soft-hearted to be a serial killer of any kind."

Muta groaned, and Baron laughed, a deep hearty laugh that echoed through the empty house, and, after a moment, Muta couldn't help but chuckle a bit. He hated to admit it, but Baron's laughter was becoming contagious, and soon he was laughing so hard his eyes were watering and his chest hurt. Their guffaws eventually drifted to giggling, and finally faded away. Baron, though, hadn't wiped that silly smile off his face as he stuck his hand out again. After a moment, Muta seized his hand in his large paw and gave it a vigorous shake, Baron's smile spreading to his own face.

"I think this is the start of a good friendship," Baron said happily, his green eyes seeming to glow in the rosy sunlight.

Muta shrugged. "Eh, who knows?" he replied. He then held up his tongue-polished plate with his free hand. "Think I can have seconds, Baron?"

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