Disclaimer: The narrator is my creation. Other character is Namco's property.

Author's Note: You need to read in order to understand, I'm afraid. There is no easy way for me to explain this one. Basically, it's from a human's POV. She is caring for a unique animal, and this is her story...

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I have with me a curious animal. It is an unknown legacy. My father got it as a small young thing - but a few days after, he suffered a heart attack and passed away. The creature, according to him, was found at the back of our house curled up and shivering. It seemed nothing like any creature of this earth. I fed it on milk, and small scraps of meat when it was big enough. It has a curious liking for human food, such as burgers and hot dogs, bread with meat sandwiched between it. It eats in a very human manner, using its dainty hands to nibble at the food. It does not like vegetables, although it will willingly pass it over or cut it. It is a fascinating creature, although I know that there's no way that it can ever be identified as a species. It is unique, I am very sure of it.

I am not entirely sure what the creature is, but I can't just call it a furry monster either. It appears to me, at the closest estimate, that it is a cat and rabbit hybrid. It is exactly half rabbit and cat, I can certainly say that. It was harder to say for sure when it was young - it looked distinctly more like a cat than a rabbit. But its ears grew out to be long, and then its tail became a lt more fluffier. This creature - it has no name - has very soft fur, sleek like a cat and fluffy like a rabbit, and as I mentioned earlier, very long ears. It has a humanoid appearence, but the posture and behaviour of this creature is the only factor that is humanlike. Its ears reach the ground when he is sitting, and almost drags across the surface when he's standing up. It is very gentle, calm and rather cute, I might say, and it has beautiful amber eyes. Those eyes are brighter yet still softer than a cat's. I love this creature very much, as a memento to my father and for the fact that it is affectionate and exceptionally unique.

It feels too strange to call the creature 'it'. I shall use 'him' instead.

He is even more unique due to the fact that he speaks. Obviously, he does not speak English at all; he tugs on my clothes when I go out to work, enthusiastically chattering in a language I cannot understand. It is not a mere cry of a beast. He chatters a lot, and his nuance, the way he speaks implies quite clearly that he is speaking another language, one of his own kind, I might say. He only speaks when near me, and does so happily, a sweet smile in his face. He is a boy by human standards. It's been ten years since I've had him in my care.

I've tried to introduce him to cats and rabbits. When I tried cats, the creatures just sat together quietly, accepting their existance with calmness. He shows remarkable likeness to cats, being as fast and sleek as they are. But rabbits... I've tried with white rabbits. He was fine with them. But I then I tried black ones and dyed ones, and he reacted violently, chasing the rabbit around, his claws showing, fear and hate embedded into his expression. I have never seen him lose control like that before, and I was quite alarmed. He actually struck a rabbit once, although it didn't kill it. He always displayed the same reaction afterwards: he would shake and mutter in his language, repeating the word 'Moo'. It seems that anything with paws, feet and long ears - and to a extent, particular colour - alarms him so. That is odd, but then, so is he. He calms down quickly when he is alarmed, but in those cases he displayed nothing but fear and took a long, long time to calm down. I had to help a lot for him to relax, and found that petting his ears and head softly does the trick.

He helps me to understand the ways of animals and humans alike. Maybe that is why I continue to call him a 'creature'; because he is neither animal or human. He acts too much like our fellow men, understanding, showing clear and combined emotions, yet he is very clearly not human.

I have studied him closely over the years, monitored his progress and looked after him as best as I could. He is more than just a mere pet - I do not believe any animal is a pet, to be honest - he is sentinel, alive, and an affectionate companion. I love him like no other, and I wish sorely that I can understand him.

But what astounds me is that how much he understands of this world. How much he understands of me.

I do not understand him, except for the very basics. But although there is a huge barrier between us - language and species difference are only two things out of many - he understands the way I think. One night I was with him in front of the fire, feeling cold due to lack of physical contact nonetheless - I have no family - and he nudged up next to me, leaning against me and wrapping his skinny arms around my body to keep me warm. He was warm and soft, and we spent the whole night sitting there, wrapped up together and keeping warm. When I stood up to get myself a glass of water he pulled away gently, his bright eyes looking into the fireplace, lost in his own thoughts. When I came back he looked up expectantly, and then he snuggled against me again.

He seems to understand dreams as well. He sleeps next to me at night sometimes, and whenever he is near, I am guaranteed sweet, wonderful dreams unlike one of this world. I dream about a place, filled with windmills, the sun shining on the little stone huts. And he is there, wearing blue clothes and clutching a golden ring with an emerald embedded in it, laughing and chatting with some others. But the others seem hazy to me and I see only him clearly enough. That place is nowhere like this world. It is peaceful and quiet, the breeze cool and light, and I feel safe and comfortable when I dream about that place. Of course, the momentary illusion is gone when I wake, but indeed - they are beautiful dreams. What he cannot communicate with me in the day he can express in those dreams, and that's good enough for me.

There was another night when he was sitting just by my feet, grooming his fur using a small comb, and I was looking at him. I felt a sudden surge of unexpected sadness; I knew that it would be so hard for him to live here, in a world which nobody understands him, and with only me for company. He is sensitive so I can't take him out either. It is a dangerous world out there. It would be terrible for him, being shut out, with a woman who did tests on him and did things he didn't know. Tears ran down my eyes, dripped to the floor, and I just sat there weeping silently for a minute or so. I made no sound. But when I looked down, there were a couple of tears running down his face as well. Whether they were my tears or his, I did not know; but I believe it was the latter, as he was looking at me sadly, his amber eyes locked into mine.

I know that his torment cannot really go on. I can't allow it. I love him too much. I know so little of his life expectancy. I won't be able to bear it if he died in a few years' time, but then if he survived beyond my life, that might be worse. There is no guarantee, no guarantee whatsoever that he will meet someone nice. It breaks my heart whenever I look at him. He stares back at me, he twirls my hair and purrs when I stroke his head. But he is no mere creature, and I want to be wherever he goes.

One day I might find that the only salvation for both of us is the syringe. Filled with the usual fluid, it will be the end of him, and he will die quietly. But every time I pick up a syringe, never intended for him, I stare at it, repulsed. He stands beside me, looking at me with those tranquil, sad eyes, knowing what goes through my mind, and accepting it. He almost wants it, I can see that, but I cannot set him free. Even though the needle and fluid is the only real release for him, I will never do it, because he is a legacy after all.

He sleeps beside me now, and I am tired, so I shall go to sleep also. He will bring me sweet dreams tonight, I know that, and I pet his head gently before I turn the lights off. I'll protect him, shield him from harm, even though that might be the best thing.

He is mine, he is a being - and as heartbreaking as it is, we can only hope for the best and go on.

It is a very comforting thing to think about after all.

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Rather a strange AU perspective. You know this cabbit - that's Klonoa alright. How affectionate of him... (awws)

I was inspired by Franz Kafka.