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TWENTY-SIX

KENJI

CHRISTMAS KITTEN

Day 494

The air outside bites at my nose and stings my ears as I rush into the big cattle barn Jay and I have been repairing for months. Snowflakes cling to my jacket, and I dust them off, shaking out my arms as I step inside. It feels good to be without the sling, finally to be able to move my arms normally again. The barn is a haven against the storm—not warm, but the collective heat of the cattle bundled together keeps the chill at bay.

I promised Jay when I saw him earlier this morning that he didn’t need to worry about work today. I told him that I would come in and make sure the cows had some clean, fresh water and some grains to eat. He argued against it, reminding me that we’re still not meant to be doing anything on our own, and that Farron would kick my ass if she knew I was out without a partner. But I convinced him it would be fine, even though I know that tension is still filling the community as people question if the outsiders are still watching us, or if there were ever outsiders here at all.

The wind howls like a lost soul outside, rattling the old wooden beams of the barn. The storm had come on quickly, the kind that chills you to the bone in seconds. I rub my hands together, blowing on them to chase away the numbness. As I move toward the water troughs, the cows shift and moo softly, their eyes wide and dark in the dim light. I talk to them quietly, hoping the sound of my voice might soothe them and take some attention away from the storm.

Just as I’m about to leave, a tiny sound pierces through the noise of the howling wind and the murmuring cattle. It’s faint, almost swallowed by the storm, but unmistakably there. I stop, straining to hear it again. There it is—a high-pitched, desperate mew.

I follow the sound, my boots crunching in the thin layer of straw on the barn floor. In one shadowed corner, I find the source: a tiny black kitten, drenched and shivering, its fur matted with snow and ice. It cries out again, a plaintive wail that tugs at my heart.

“Hey there, tiny thing,” I murmur, crouching down. The kitten’s entire body is trembling, and it tries to open its eyes to look up at me, but they’re crusted shut. Its breathing is shallow and fast, and when I move to gently pet it, the tiny thing burrows its head into my hand. There’s no sign of a mother cat anywhere. My heart aches at the sight.

I wait for a while, hoping the mother will return, but the minutes stretch on, and the cold seeps deeper into my bones. The kitten’s cries grow weaker, and I know I can’t leave it here to freeze. I scoop the tiny creature into my arms, tucking it inside my jacket for warmth. It’s so small, just a ball of fluff and bones. I can feel its rapid heartbeat against my chest.

As I step out of the barn, the snow is blinding, the path to the house barely visible. “Hang on, little one,” I whisper, bracing myself for the dash back to the main house. By the time I reach the front door, my fingers are numb, and my face feels raw from the cold. I burst inside, slamming the door shut behind me. Magnum immediately comes running up to me, his little nails tapping against the hardwood floor as he circles me, his tail wagging. He lets out a little yip and looks up curiously, like he can sense what I have in my arms.

“K, you good?” I hear Adrian call out from the living room, so I make my way there.

I unwrap the kitten from my jacket as I make my way into the main living space, finding that everyone else is already there. Henry is in the armchair while the others are on the couch. Farron’s legs are in Adrian’s lap, his hands massaging her feet, while she sits in Theo’s lap, his arms wrapped possessively around her. They all turn my way when I walk in, their eyes immediately honing in on the tiny thing in my hands.

“Is that a cat?” Adrian asks, confusion marring his features, at the same time that Farron speaks.

“Oh my gosh, a kitten!” Farron exclaims, extracting herself from Theo and Adrian to make her way over to me. I watch as she gently scoops the tiny creature into her hands. The kitten looks up at her, and she beams, her eyes sparkling with joy before taking in its shaking form, and her brow furrows. “Where the hell did you find this little thing?”

“It was out in the Abel cattle barn. I went to feed the cows and heard a noise. This little guy’s mom was nowhere to be found, and I knew I couldn’t leave him there. I warmed him up by the fire while I waited for you. I think you’ll need to check him out and see if there’s anything else we have to worry about with him.”

Farron nods, already switching into vet mode. “Magnum, back up,” she murmurs as the dog tries to nose his way closer to the kitten. She gently shoos him away and moves toward the fireplace, cradling the kitten in her hands.

She grabs a soft towel from a nearby chair and starts rubbing the kitten’s tiny body, warming and drying it as best as she can. “You poor thing,” she murmurs. “You’re safe now.”

The room falls quiet as Farron works, her focus entirely on the kitten. The shivering gradually subsides, the kitten’s soft whimpers calming as it starts to relax in her hands. She examines its crusted eyes and matted fur, murmuring reassurances as she works.

“We’ll need to clean her up properly and get her some food,” Farron says after a while, glancing back at me. “ She’s dehydrated and malnourished, but I think she’ll pull through.”

Adrian grins, leaning back in his chair. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a Christmas miracle.”

“A Christmas miracle, huh?” Farron repeats, smiling as the kitten lets out a tiny, tired meow.

Theo tilts his head, watching with a small, soft smile. “What are we calling her?”

“How about Binx?” Farron suggests, her voice full of affection as she strokes the kitten’s head. “It suits her.”

“Binx it is,” I say, grinning. Magnum barks in agreement, his tail wagging furiously.

Later, after the kitten is settled in a makeshift bed by the fire, Magnum curled up right next to her, Farron finds me in the kitchen washing up. She’s holding a small bottle of formula and a tiny syringe.

“Hey,” she says, leaning against the counter. “Thanks for saving her.”

I shrug, drying my hands on a towel. “You know I couldn’t leave her out there. He wouldn’t have made it. It helps that we have a vet at the house, too.”

Her gaze softens. “You’ve got a soft spot, Kenji. It’s too late to hide it, I’ve seen it a few times now.”

I raise an eyebrow, smirking. “Don’t tell anyone. I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

She laughs, the sound warm and musical. “I’d never,” she says with a faux gasp. “Want to help me feed her?”

We sit together on the floor by the fire, the flickering light casting a golden glow. Farron shows me how to hold the kitten as she carefully feeds him with the syringe. Our hands brush as she steadies my grip, and I glance at her, catching the faint blush that colors her cheeks.

“You’re good at this,” I say softly. “Taking care of things.”

She looks up, her eyes meeting mine. “So are you, even if you don’t like to admit it.”

I hesitate, then take a breath. “Growing up was all about survival,” I tell her, my eyes staying focused on the kitten. “When Suzie May took me in and I realized what I had there with her, only to have Adrian and Theo eventually, too…I knew I had to take care of my family. I knew what it was like not to have one—not to have anything.”

“Survival…” she whispers, and I can feel her gaze on me. “Do you mean when you were in foster care?”

I swallow hard and nod, but my gaze firmly stays on the kitten nestled between us. “Foster care wasn’t exactly... kind. I bounced between homes, and some of them...” I trail off, my voice thick with the weight of memories. “Some of them were scary. Beatings when you spoke out of turn. Days without food if you didn’t act right. You learn to take care of yourself because no one else will.”

Her hand finds mine, squeezing it gently. “Kenji...”

“When we talked about my tattoos a while back you looked at me like you wanted to know what I needed protection from,” I tell her, finally looking up at her. “I felt like I needed protection from everything. I remember once, at one of the houses, the husband was a drunk and the wife was just…angry. Angry at everything. They had a few kids they had taken in, but I don’t think they cared for any of them. I had just started Kindergarten, so I must have only been five, and the wife got mad at me for not cleaning and organizing the closet in my small room the way she would have liked.” I feel Farron squeeze my hand tighter, as if preparing herself for where this story is going.

“She thought the best way to teach me a lesson was to grab one of the wire hangers and beat the lesson into me. She beat me until the wire hanger was completely broken and misshapen, and then she left me with a simple command to finish cleaning. For the next few weeks, I had to wear long sleeves to school because my arms were entirely black and blue,” I admit, my voice low. It’s hard not to feel ashamed when I think about some of these memories, even when I know I’m not to blame for them. It’s not a child’s fault that the adults around them aren’t well, or can’t control their anger. But still, the embarrassment doesn’t go away—the feeling that you should have stood up for yourself, or somehow done more .

“Oh my god, Kenji,” she whispers out, her eyes glistening with tears. “I’m so sorry.”

I shake my head, offering a faint, humorless smile. “It’s fine. It made me who I am. When I got my tattoos done, I swore I would never let anyone hurt me or the ones I loved ever again. It’s why I was so…off-putting when we first met.”

Farron snorts in response. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

“But seeing you, how you care for things—people, animals—it’s... different. You’re like Adrian and Theo with how much of your heart you wear on your sleeve, even if you do run and hide when you get overwhelmed. The way you allow yourself to care so deeply…It’s good.” I lean forward to press a kiss against her temple.

“You make me want to be the best version of myself I can be, Princess,” I say. “So thank you for that.” She gives me a soft, shy smile in response and we focus our attention back on Binx, but my mind stays on the woman by my side. It feels like so many of my viewpoints have changed since I met her, and I can’t seem to think of what life would be like without her.

Farron has made my life better, and I know she’s done the same damn thing for Theo and Adrian. My eyes travel back to her face to take her in—the way the firelight makes the red in her hair glow and draws my eyes to the constellation of freckles across the bridge of her nose. If I look closely enough, I can see small lines on the very edges of her eyes from the way they crinkle up when she smiles and laughs.

My breath catches in my throat as I realize I’m fucked.

No matter what happens next, I know that what I feel for Farron is deep and absolutely terrifying.