Chapter two
The sudden rustle of a near by bush startled Kirika. Her eyes instinctively scanned the surrounding areas, her right hand reaching for a weapon that was not there. Her instincts are still sharp and old habits die hard. A small frown creased her forehead at the sight of a completely empty street. The soft tap of paws on pavement made her glance downward. She looked curiously at the kitten mewling at her feet. It batted at her leg with small paws and tugged at the edges of her pants with it's teeth as if it wanted her attention. Cute and fluffy were the two adjectives that came immediately to mind.
"Hello." She murmured in Japanese, reaching down and picking up the small cat. It was soft and warm in her hands. It mewled plaintively, blinking it's luminous blue eyes at her. Something was very familiar about it. Kirika ran a finger through it's beautiful golden fur before stroking it's head. The kitten purred.
Cautiously, she scratched it behind one velvety ear and it purred louder, nuzzling against her hand.
Mmmm that feels good, thought Mireille. No wonder cats like to be petted. Unconsciously, she purred deep in her throat and begged for more, wiggling delightfully on her back when she stroked her soft belly. Whoa! Stop it Mireille, you are here to get help, not to get a belly rub! Flipping back to her feet, she nipped gently at Kirika's fingers until she got her full attention. Mustering as much of her old dignity as she can, she stared up at Kirika. I am Mireile, she tried to communicate. Help me Kirika! Help me! Kirika blinked. The kitten had the most disquieting eyes, the colors shifting between sapphire blue and aqua green. It almost looks like her… Kirika shook her head; sometimes she questioned her own sanity. But still, it is a remarkable coincidence…
"Are you hungry?" Maybe that's why it keeps on looking at her. It thinks she will feed it. "Where is your owner? You don't even have a collar. But you are too clean and well fed to be a stray. Maybe you are lost?" Kirika looked around, but only silence and empty streets greeted her. "I don't want to leave you out here alone, I guess I can take you home until I find your real owner."
Mireille groaned with frustration. "No Kirika! I am not a cat!" What came out was a loud plaintive mewl.
"It's ok, " said Kirika soothingly. "I won't hurt you." Mireille glared at her, her temper fraying a little at the edges. It has been a bad day and she hasn't been able to alleviate her stress as usual by emptying a clip of bullets into a perfectly innocent concrete wall. Her mood went unnoticed as Kirika carefully picked her up and placed her inside the bag slung over one of her shoulders, so only her head stuck out. "Stay there, don't move around too much or you will fall out." Mireille did not appreciate being treated like…an animal. A weak rowwwwwwr was an inadequate substitute for a string of very unladylike words she would have liked to vocalize.
Krika simply gave her another pat on the head to quiet her.
Mireille made a disgruntled noise. There goes plan A, she thought as Kirika set off, the bag bouncing slightly and forcing her to dig claws into the fabric. Oh well, at least she will be fed and taken care of. She'll find some way of revealing her real identity to Kirika later, she hoped.