Disclaimer for chapter one and two: All viewfinder work belongs solely to Yamane sensei. Additionally, all work is strictly fictional. Any characters bearing striking similarities to real life people (or animal), dead or alive, is pure coincidence.

The kitten bearing his new name, Akihito, hated his new master with immeasurable vigor. It wasn't as if Akihito had put his kitty pride first, turning a blind eye to what little benevolence his master had to offer. There was just simply nothing likable about the man. Plain and simple.

In the last hour of acquaintance, after careful judgment, from his master's dressing to the way he manhandled his new pet, Akihito determined his master to be an arrogant, malevolent and selfish narcissist. The list could go on, but the kitten's vocabulary was extremely limited due to his age. After all, he was forcefully taken from his family after half a season and had spent the remaining month in captivity. He learned close to nothing from his parents and even less from the two-legged animals that enslaved him and his siblings, relying on pure instinct just to survive under the whims of mankind.

Akihito shifted in his master's lap, (he vouched to his kitty pride that he was there unwillingly. His master did not take no as an answer very kindly.) trying to find just the right spot to settle down comfortably. The sun was still hanging high, drawing the kitten into a drowse. The movement caught unwanted attention, and a large hand fell upon his head, rubbing the top of his furry skull. Akihito meowed in displeasure. How was he suppose to sleep when his senses were kept alert by the constant fear of having his head crushed the moment he let his guard down?

The soft mewl grew louder when the pressure increased, hand now molesting his entire body. His master's stupidity astounded him. Which part of his cry hinted I want more? When his master's 'front paw' boldly ran down his tail, Akihito decided he had enough. He jerked up, throwing the heavy hand off his back and without wasting a moment, spun around, balanced himself on his hind legs and struck at the supposed location of where his master's hand should be.

When his claws swiped at nothing but air, he staggered back, teetering unsteadily. A small yowl of surprise shattered the tranquility of the moving steel box. (Akihito would learn later on that the metal container his master got into everyday was called a 'car', or 'limousine', if one wanted a more specified classification.)

The kitten tumbled onto his back, four furry limbs in the air, stomach exposed vulnerably to his master. Akihito's heart took a deep plunge. He had once again showed his submission, albeit unintended, but all that mattered was how it looked to his master. Shame clouded his tiny beating heart when his master laughed mockingly at him.

He tried to right what was wrong and attempted to roll over. His master stopped him. The hand once again descended upon him, this time on his belly and he froze. His master couldn't possibly want to rip his innards out now, could he? Terror overcame the little kitten but he could not move. Fear had rendered his muscles useless and the only muscle that worked was his heart muscle, drunk with adrenaline, pumping blood so fast that it beat rapidly.

Unwanted memories flooded the panicking animal. A harsh blow from the side. Bloodied paw pressed cruelly into his soft stomach, crushing his ribs. Blood scented breath near his throat. No. Papa. Don't! Akihito squeezed his eyes shut. Mama! Mama! Help!

Seemingly able to sense his pet's trepidation, the hand started to move slowly, rubbing his stomach soothingly in a circular motion. Akihito distressed mewling soften. It reminded him of how his feline mother had licked his tummy with her raspy tongue to clean the blood off. His father had faltered when his mother came sprinting back, baring her teeth furiously.

The warmth emanating from his master's 'paw' enshrouded his small existence, lulling him into a sense of security that was similar to what he felt when he snuggled into the underside of his mother, her protective scent washing away all his fears and worries.

The nostalgia unlocked memories that the kitten had suppressed ever since the start of his cohabitation with humans. What mattered during the entire time was to survive. Things that triggered his emotions were shut away for it only served to dull his senses. The security he felt assured his survival for the moment, and so he opened the box willingly, allowing himself the luxury of soaking in his precious memories of his mother's comforting heat.

Alas, he would never again feel the warmth of his mother, for when mankind came and forced their will upon the creatures of the wild, actions harboring cruel intentions to enslave, his mother laid before him, motionless and cold. A feeling equivalent to what mankind knows it to be 'sorrow' settled in the kitten's guts.

With a heartbreaking mewl, the little kitten searched for the comfort his mother once gave him in his master's large hand. It was embarrassing and shameful for a male Caracal to lie so docilely, white underside exposed so willingly to another male. However, the sapling in him knew it was something he needed, something to fill his empty heart, so he shoved his little kitten pride aside and snuggled, relishing in the warmth and dominating scent of his master.

The next time Akihito woke, he was lying on a leathery cushion. The kitten believed man called it a 'sofa' or 'couch'. There was one in his former master's store, although this particular piece he was lying upon was probably of a much higher grade. From his cage, he had witness the viciousness of the man. Any animal in the store that touched the couch would be cruelly beaten with a metal pole. While the other animals cringed every time the man brandished the rusty iron rod at a helpless victim who had brainlessly settled itself on the prized couch, Akihito merely watched on apathetically.

For Akihito, his previous master had the right to lash out, something mankind couldn't comprehend. Living in the wild had taught him key survival skills, one of which was never to infringe on territory belonging to beings more powerful and experienced than oneself. It was the indisputable law of the wild. The strong lives and the weak dies. Survival of the fittest. If one didn't want to die, they do well to steer clear of those prowling higher up in the food chain. (Well, his current master was an exception. Somehow, despite the fact that the man going by the name Asami was undisputedly one of those who slunk in the shadows of the top tier, he couldn't resist the temptation to resist the man's will with all his power.)

In his sleepy haze, the kitten's mind slowly registered the fact that the rule may apply to his new master too. His body snapped into action, jumping lithely off the black leather couch. He crouched, ears swiveling agitatedly, scanning the area for the presence of his master. As long as his master didn't witness his act of transgression, he would be able to escape any sort of bodily harm.

Once assured that the man wasn't around, he padded about the dark room, glowing eyes taking in the layout of the new territory his master had left him in. He sniffed and licked, memorizing the new smell, touch and taste of unfamiliar man-made objects. The glass panel, more polished and clear than the one he used to look out from, caught the interest of the curious kitten.

The view beyond the glass obstruction was magnificent. The night sky hovered above the concrete landscape that glimmered with numerous square boxes of yellow light. The moon goddess shone gently, enveloping the bustling night city in a soft, white glow.

The white waves of light rolled over his chestnut fur, and Akihito purred. He danced a simple tango with the moonbeams.

Energy spent from his graceful dance, he laid quietly in front of the abnormally huge window, nose bumping into the glass every now and then when he unthinkingly stuck his head too far out to see something out of his field of vision. Akihito took a mental picture of the gorgeous night view. This was going into his box of memories, for the very same moon had watched over his mother in the past when she hunted for his and his siblings' nourishment.

"Simply majestic, is it not?"

Akihito jumped and bristled, backing up against the window. For a man so large, the kitten couldn't comprehend how his insufferable master could move so stealthily. He was sure his senses were still in tip top shape. He had even pinpointed a rat hidden behind the concrete wall just a moment ago. (He made it a point to catch it later) How his master had glided so soundlessly behind him was beyond the kitten's little mind. It showed how dangerous his master was. He could have been killed.

To take his kind by surprise was a great feat. He belonged to a class of silent and deadly assassins. By outdoing Akihito, Asami had proved to the kitten that he had the upper hand. Even Akihito grudgingly admitted that this man was a creature worthy of his respect. (This was by no means an indication of him rendering allegiance)

He eyed his master with distrust; tensed and ready to spring away should the looming man decide to bring harm down upon him. His master took a step forward and Akihito dashed away, scrambling into the small gap between cabinet and wall, where his master's big frame could not follow him. His hazel slit eyes glowed eerily in the darkness.

From the safety of his dark niche, he saw his master turn to him and chuckle. He bristled. The evil man was gloating. He hissed and spat with indignation, but he remained where he was, as per what his self-preservation dictated.

He started when his master raised his hand in his direction. The dark silhouette crooked one finger, beckoning the kitten to come over. He meowed with disbelief. His master was a predator, which idiot would want to willingly offer themselves up as food?

A low voice rumbled.

"Come. It's late. You'll catch a cold if you sleep out here."

Although his master's words did not mean anything to him, the tone his master used was clear enough. This room was not a place he could stay prowling in for the rest of the night.

As his master turned on his heels and left, Akihito poked his head out tentatively. He weighed his options. Disobey, rile his master up and face the consequences, or obey and maybe his master wouldn't eat him tonight.

Akihito decided that until he knew more about his master and his queer behavior, it was wiser to follow the safer course of action.

Hesitantly he padded out of his safety corner, trailing behind his master into another room. This room was as dark as the previous one, but it was smaller and there were less towering objects. His master was sitting on a couch. No, that wasn't correct. The thing that his master was sitting on was much larger and there was no leather, only fabric spun from the finest of thread.

"Onto the bed, Akihito."

Bed. Akihito had learned a new word.

However, the couch and bed seemed to serve the same purpose and so Akihito was unsure as to whether the 'couch rule' applied. What if his master was enticing him into breaking that rule? It would only be his own fault when his master's wrath came crashing down upon him.

He skittered about the perimeters of the bed, uncertain.

When his master patted on a spot on the bed, Akihito made up his mind. To hell with the consequences. The bed looked really soft, much softer than the flooring of his cage and the urge to test out that softness was unbearable. If the man wanted to punish him, he could always run back into his safety hideout in the previous room.

Akihito crouched and coiled power into his hind legs. He released that power and sprung, landing with an undignified sprawl. The mattress sinking under his weight was an unprecedented phenomenon and it threw his balance off.

Acutely aware of possible danger, he quickly gathered himself on all fours, tail swishing jerkily while he narrowed his eyes at his master. His master ignored him and climbed fully into the bed. Assured that the man harbored no ill intentions, Akihito naively turned his back to the man, plodding to a comfortable spot, furthest away from his master.

A hand shot out and pulled his tiny body towards the bare, muscular torso. No! He was going to be punished! He meowed in panicked surprise and pushed hard against the hand. His master's hand neither budge nor did it come swinging down to administer a blow. He was trapped, squished into the side of his master. With no other available options, Akihito angrily resigned to his fate for tonight.

Breathing in the clean scent of his master, he slowly relaxed, drifting off to sleep and in a corner of his mind, he wondered if this was what it was like to cuddle with his feline father if the territorial cat never tried to eat him.

A scratching sound came from the wall. Catching the rat would have to wait till tomorrow.

Akihito was famished. His master took him away before his former master could give him lunch and the same heartless master had denied him his midnight snack. His stomach growled loudly and he cursed. The kitten drew the top of his forehead down in some sort of feline frown, nervously glancing towards his sleeping master's face. He would rather die than feed from the arrogant man's hand.

He wiggled and tested the makeshift flesh cradle around him. His master's grip on him had slackened sufficiently, allowing Akihito to squirm out. Once free, the kitten scampered hurriedly in the direction in which he had entered the night before. However, instead of a way out, he was met with a wooden block. He pawed at the door with frustration. He was hungry. HUNGRY!

He twisted his head back and forth, from Asami to door, contemplating if he should wake the sleeping predator up. His cherished feline pride squashed the thought. He was a proud male Caracal, weaned and taught by his mother how to hunt. His hunting environment may be different, but the basics of hunting could still be applied.

The rat he kept hearing last night would be sufficient for a good breakfast. Padding softly adjacently to the wall, his ears flicked attentively, nose sniffing the point where the wall and floor merged. A faint scratch perked his interest. He sniffed harder and found a tiny hole in the wall of plaster. Bringing his nose to the hole, he picked up a familiar scent. It smelled different from the desert mouse his mother hunted but it was unmistakably a scent rodents carried.

He tested the hole cautiously, lest he spooked his prey. The hole was small but so was his tiny kitten paw. He could stick his entire paw in perfectly. Satisfied with the fit, he crouched silently, peering into the dark cavity to determine the exact location of the rat.

It was a small grey rat with a long tail, small paws holding up a crumb of food. It squeaked and gnawed away, incognizant to its impending doom. He lined his paw evenly to the entrance and tensed, focusing his power into his fore limb. In a flash, he struck in, paw slapping down upon the rat's tail dead on. The rat squealed in alarm and tried to run but was kept in place by his tail, now stuck under a furry appendage.

Wasting no time, Akihito dragged the squeaking rat out by the tail. Once the grey body was out of the hole, Akihito raised his other paw and swiped viciously at it. The blow smacked the grey rodent into the wall and the force from the impact stunned it. Akihito pounced, sharp teeth well aimed at the unprotected neck.

However, the rat was faster and recovered just in time to scramble out of harm's way. Akihito's teeth snapped at nothing and he yowled in frustration. He took after the scampering rat.

In the chaos, Akihito forgot that he was hunting in his master's territory. With his mind focused only on satiating his stomach's hunger, he took no notice of his master's possessions, knocking over expensive porcelain and glass without a care. Skillfully trapping his tasty looking breakfast in one corner, he lunged, this time his jaws snapped closed successfully on its target.

Blood filled his tiny mouth and he savoured the taste. His stomach rumbled in approval and he chewed, devouring his meaty meal. He was proud of himself. It was the first time he had hunted successfully without his mother. The difference between rats in the desert and human habitation was obvious. Rats inhabiting cities were easier to hunt for human laws kept their natural enemies away, allowing them to grow complacent.

Basking in his achievement, Akihito failed to notice that amidst the chaos, the sound of glass and porcelain breaking had startled his master awake. It wasn't until a threatening shadow fell upon him that he realized he was in trouble. His master, dressed in a robe stared fiercely down at him, taking in the furry remnants on the floor and his blood stained mouth.

He cowered under the intense gaze. When he took in the shattered pieces littering all over the floor, he grew aware of his mistake. Akihito had lost his mind to the pleasures of hunting and had broken the law governing all animals. Never touch the possessions of another animal lest you incur their wrath. However, under that same law, his animal instinct also urged him to protect the remaining pieces of his meal for that was rightfully his possession.

Standing his own ground, his fur rose threateningly and he spat at his master, warning him to leave him alone. Unfazed, his master merely lifted him by the scruff, throwing him unceremoniously into a smooth marble bowl.

"You're dirty. Let's clean you up, shall we?" His master's voice was emotionless and cold, unlike the low, amused baritone voice that usually came out of his man's vocal cords.

He scrambled to his feet and tried to escape. Alarm bells were ringing and the dread manifesting in him told him the preceding event was going to be very unpleasant. His master's hand pushed him flat on his stomach and he gave an uncharacteristic yelp. A squeak above him signaled the start of his ordeal.

Without warning, a waterfall of water poured forth, crashing down upon his entire being. Akihito spluttered. His master was going to drown him. He cried out, soaked flurry limbs flailing weakly. His strength was rapidly sucked out of him as he struggled to breathe.

While he struggled wildly in his master's unyielding hold, his mind barely registered his master's thumb rubbing roughly against his blood-matted fur around his mouth and on his front paws, washing the dried red liquid away. Ten minutes felt like ten hours and through his miserable wail, his ears picked up another squeak. The downpour of water immediately stopped. Akihito wail quelled, quieting down into a soft mewling sob.

The pressure on his back lifted, allowing Akihito to rise. He weakly sat on his haunches, soaked chestnut fur sticking to his skin heavily. A cold draft had him shivering uncontrollably. Still dazed from the ordeal, Akihito unconsciously mewled for the warmth of his master's hand.

Funny how his master's hand could both be a blessing and a curse. At times, he felt like decapitating the offending appendage for it often forced him into submission, however, in other times, like now, he craved it's warmth with passion.

Drained of energy, he meekly sat still while his master wiped the dripping water off his fur with a fluffy towel. He thought about what he had just gone through. It wasn't punishment for his master neither drowned him nor smothered him to death with the towel. The sequence reminded him of a bath. Something he witnessed on a daily basis at the pet store. Now he knew why the dogs had yelped and whined for mercy under the shower of cold water. Akihito decided he hated baths and resolved to keep as clean as possible while under the rule of his master.

A few years down the road, Asami would come to realize that this was the beginning for his pet's uncanny obsession over licking himself, even when he wasn't dirty.

Wrapped snugly in the soft towel, his master took him out of the bathroom, a term that would be used frequently when a bath was imminent (Akihito would learn to flee the moment it left his master's mouth). The man dropped the bundle on the bed and disappeared from his vision. In the comfort of the towel, Akihito's tufted ears twitched when they picked up swishing and tinkling.

Time passed, warmth seeped into his muscles and he slowly regained his strength. He pushed his way out of his cloth confinement, rolling clumsily onto the blanket. Akihito shook the remaining droplets of water off. He stretched and froze. Something felt wrong. He glanced over to the fur on his body and cringed. His drying fur was fluffing weirdly. His kitty instinct decreed that it was only proper feline conduct to drag his tongue over his messy fur that stuck in all the wrong directions.

Upon completion, Akihito bounced across the bed. The broken fragments were swept away and his master was nowhere to be found. A perfectionist as usual, not a speck of glimmer was left on the polished wooden flooring.

The mess he made reminded him of his master's wrath. His master had yet to administer his punishment. Bathing, however unpleasant, was certainly not punishment because it only served to clean him up. Punishments by the hands of mankind, his experience with his former master and all other previous owners told him, often included heavy blows from the pentadactyl forelimb or long rods either made of wood, metal or paper.

While he usually limberly avoided those clumsy blows from all his former masters, Akihito didn't think he could outmaneuver his current master. He recognized his master for the power he commanded and it was a power that he could never outwit or escape. Akihito's only chance was to hide and wait for his master's anger to cool.

Decision made, the kitten leapt off the bed and stealthily crept out of the opened door to the safety niche he had claimed last night. In there, he laid low, eyes shifting nervously, ears swiveling attentively.

Needless to say, Asami was quite surprise to find his pet missing. He had underestimated the strength of Akihito and for that, he gave the kitten credit. He casually searched his house and saw no signs of the chestnut kitten. Asami smirked. His pet was hiding from him was he? He still had yet to teach the kitten proper house conduct. It wouldn't do if the fiery little thing kept taking after running rodents, leaving a trail of destruction behind.

Kirishima was probably already waiting for him downstairs and the meeting was due to start in an hour. Asami quickly dressed, properly manicured fingers pulling his tie into perfection. Pleased with his impeccable appearance, Asami proceeded to hunt for his pet. It would be a disaster if he left the little troublemaker alone at home. As he walked past the living room, a glint at the corner of his peripheral vision drew his attention. He swerved his head in that direction. How predictable.

He advanced upon his pet's hiding place and he heard a warning hiss. If his pet was trying to hide from him successfully, the little feline would need to learn fast that the same hiding place loses its effectiveness the moment he laid eyes on it. He mused, wondering just how many hiding places his little kitten can find in his exorbitant penthouse.

Another spiteful hiss drew an amused chuckle from the man. Akihito was seriously underestimating him if he thought such a shallow niche could prevent him from being grabbed. Gingerly plucking the kitten out, careful to avoid sharp claws, he caged his kitten in the crook of his arm and left his house, making his way to his car waiting downstairs. Along the way, he felt several ticklish prods at his arm and he glanced down. Claws were angrily swiping away, effort made futile by the thick sleeves he was wearing. Asami smirked.

You've got to try harder, Akihito.

Wow, this is the longest chapter I've ever written. I hope I've integrated cats and Akihito's behavior properly. Or at the very least, to a satisfactory level. …

I'll keep trying harder. Time to immerse myself in 'I am a cat II" for more inspiration. *laughs*

Thanks for reading and reviewing.

God speed.