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Drabble the Twenty-fifth: Kindred Spirits

It was early afternoon in Central, but you wouldn't have been able to tell; heavy, dark clouds obscured the sky entirely, and cold rain had been coming down in sheets since earlier that morning. Occasionally lightning would split the sky, closely followed by a loud crash of thunder. For a certain wanted Ishbalan, it was miserable weather; he was crouched inside a large, old drainpipe that protruded several feet from the brick wall of an abandoned building, his jacket serving as a makeshift umbrella from the water that dripped through cracks in the cement. It was blocked off where it hit the wall, and although that didn't leave Scar much room, he didn't want to risk anything collapsing on him if he were to destroy the barrier. This had been the only shelter he'd been able to find in the few minutes before the storm had really started; fortunately he'd gotten to it before getting very wet. Now there was nothing for him to do but wait the storm out.

…meeewwww…

Scar jerked his head up slightly at the sound. It had sounded like a cat, but he couldn't be sure, what with all the noise the storm was making. Unsure of why he was doing so, he strained his ears in case he heard it a second time.

…meeewwww…

There it was again! It was a cat, he was sure now. He peered outside his shelter, searching for the source of the noise, telling himself that he had nothing better to do. After a few minutes, he caught sight of a barely visible grey lump of fur huddled inside a swiftly melting cardboard box. As he watched, the little creature gave another loud mew. 'That box is going to collapse very shortly,' his mind pointed out, 'Then it won't have any shelter at all.' And he didn't care, he told himself, it was only a stray cat. It let out another pitiful wail as a large tear began opening in the top of the box, letting in a good deal of rain. 'It's very small…it must be just a kitten,' said his mind, 'It might die if it doesn't have shelter.' That wasn't his problem, he reminded himself adamantly, he didn't care. He didn't care, he didn't care, he didn't-

…meeewwww…

A now much wetter Scar sat in the drainpipe, his right arm holding a purring grey kitten against his chest. The Ishbalan was surprised to find himself feeling a kind of kinship towards it. The two of them were in the same predicament: homeless and stuck out in the rain. But for now, at least neither of them was alone.

The two strays gazed out into the rain, waiting patiently for the storm to end.

A/N: Aaawww…isn't that cute? Scar-san has a little friend! Hehehehe…saving kittens from the rain must be a little brother thing.