It had been 3 days since the whole bad cat incident, and if there was one thing Kaito realised…it was that:
'The system hated cats.'
The boy had been journaling.
Yes, journaling.
Like a bored housewife with a bullet journal and glitter pens, only instead of motivational quotes, his notes read like divine punishment logs.
Day 2: Don't swat spoons, even if they're falling. Even if physics demands it.
Day 3: Don't knock over Lucy's coffee…that's -10 Faith Points.
Day 4: Do not scratch the rug, no matter how good it feels.
Apparently divine missions hate good texture.
He'd used a pen between his paws, and then gave up and just clawed stuff into an old pizza box. Claw-writing wasn't elegant, but it got the point across.
Maybe.
Meanwhile, Lucy, the girl in question, was spiraling.
She sat on the couch, and stared at her dull phone screen.
Her eyebrows were scrunched, lips tight, and dark circles heavier than Kaito's own problems.
"…so someone fired you again?" Kaito tried to meow it out, but it came out as more of a pathetic squeak and a half-cough.
The girl sighed and tossed the phone to the side.
"I still have a dozen college assignments to complete." She looked down at him like he'd understand.
He kinda did. The boy had lived in that brutal world before—the kind where no one cared if you existed unless you were useful.
"Guess being a waitress-slash-student-slash-part-time-barista isn't enough anymore," she muttered.
Kaito watched her rub her forehead, her fingers lingering on the spot too long.
That wasn't just exhaustion, he realised.
That was migraine-level despair.
She had rice again that night.
Burnt.
Again.
***
Day 6: Lucy left at 7:43 AM for college. Came back at 4:00 PM with a busted shoe and a bag of discounted bread.
Day 7: She cried in the shower.
Day 8: She fixed the leaky tap with a shoelace and bubblegum…It didn't work.
Kaito spent most of his days perched on the fridge or curled into a loaf on the windowsill.
From up there, he had the perfect view of her pacing the tiny apartment, muttering to herself like she was trying not to fall apart.
The boy was still not sure what to feel about all this, but he was slowly getting used to it.
The divine screen that haunted his vision had the personality of an overworked manager who despised his job and took it out on every employee below him.
The moment Kaito's paw even twitched in a way the system didn't like, he got a penalty.
A deduction.
A warning—
[–5 Faith Points: You little menace.]
The thing was practically passive-aggressive.
But there was something far worse than the tone.
In these short few days, he had come to know another crucial thing.
If these so called faith points of his hit zero…he'd die.
Again.
And not in some vague, metaphorical way.
He'd disappear.
For good.
Strangely though, the threat didn't trigger panic inside the boy.
Not because he was brave—hell no.
It just didn't hit.
Not after everything.
He had already died once as Kaito.
Alone.
Forgotten.
Unwanted.
That kind of thing tends to dull the edge of existential dread.
So no, he wasn't sticking around because of hope or love or whatever poetic crap most reincarnated protagonists go through.
He was staying because of one stupid little icon.
[Awakening: 113/1000]
It sat in the corner of his system screen like an unopened file on the most suspicious USB drive.
Apparently, his 'Faith Points' bar had changed it's name to 'Awakening' the moment his points had crossed the 100's.
The bar filled up slowly—very slowly, whenever he obeyed the system, followed his "good cat" instructions, or fulfilled little tasks.
But the screen didn't say what would happen once it hit 1000.
And that bothered him.
Not knowing annoyed the hell out of him.
"What the hell does awakening even mean?" Kaito muttered internally for the tenth time, swiping a paw through the air like he could physically drag the info out of the system but there was no response…as usual.
If not for the curiosity that continued ticking a wedge inside his brain time and time again, he would have given up on upping those faith points long ago.
The boy wanted answers.
About the system.
About this apocalypse countdown that seemed to loom over the world.
About if he had really reincarnated into the same world he had lived as Kaito or if this was an alternate reality…
Not to forget that the reason he had reincarnated in the first place was a complete mystery, the boy could not even wrap his head around why he was a cat of all things.
The only clue he had was this godforsaken bar and its stupid little name: Awakening.
What if that was the key?
What if this whole cult-building nonsense, these arbitrary tasks, and the daily humiliation of licking himself in front of Lucy all led to something bigger?
Something that could make this entire second life mean something?
It was pathetic, sure. But he'd been through worse.
Curiosity was the only emotion he hadn't lost yet.
Everything else—hope, love, fear—had been stripped away by years of sadness and solitude.
But curiosity?
That itch in the back of his mind that made him need to know why?
That had survived.
And so…he played along.
He acted the part.
Pushed spoons off counters.
Nudged his face against Lucy's cheek like a good little kitty cat.
Learned the rules.
Took mental notes.
Every cause, every effect. Every point gained or lost. This wasn't just about survival anymore.
It was research.
Because if there was a point to this new life…if that bar ever reached 1000…
He was damn well going to be awake enough to understand it.
And if he had to nap in sunbeams, beg for food, and pretend to chase bugs for a few more weeks to get there?
Then fine.
He'd be the best goddamn housecat on the planet.
Besides…between the smell of shampoo and the way she snored softly in her sleep, there were worse places to pass out than in between Lucy's boobs.
***