His life is a 996 gray cycle, as numb as a cold machine.
The only color is an orange kitten rescued on a rainy night.
He thought it was just a passing kindness.
Until a girl with cat ears and a tail appeared at his door.
Using the purest animal instinct, he clumsily "repaid the favor" to him.
The wall in his heart that he had built with order and alienation was shattered by her.
As a social animal with avoidant attachment, he picks up a "little trouble" whose whole world only depends on him.
Is this heavy responsibility a sweet burden or the only cure for loneliness?
