As The Sun Sets [ Sairara ]

Nero hit the hard tatami mat on his back; another sparring match with his sensei had ended in an imminent defeat. The older man, Ishiguro, was well-versed in hand-to-hand combat. Nero may have had an advantage in terms of brute physical strength, but technique-wise his mentor was years above him. Sensei Ishiguro had recruited the young Fanalis, taking him under his wing, so to speak, after watching him in a coliseum match; he ran a secretive dojo known to train warriors whom were deemed exceptionally talented in combat. Only five or so other disciples were accepted into this training circle, a hallmark of Ishiguro's selective nature.

Nero was here to hone his skills and become the "ultimate warrior" in the field of hand-to-hand fighting. So far, progress had been coming slowly yet steadily. He had been referred to another teacher for further training in a somewhat different art style; this was coming along rather smoothly as well. Overall there had been improvement, although Nero was yet to try out his skills in the arena thus far.

As he got to his feet, he faced his master and bowed; it was now time to take a little break from the dojo and hit the town; perhaps grab a bite to eat or visit a tavern and drink a bit. He stepped off the tatami mat and moved himself to a smaller room where he stored his belongings. His training gi came off, revealing a well-built frame. Nero stepped into the dojo's shower, intent on washing the sweat from his body. He didn't want to go to town smelling like a wet dog. After this, he stepped out, quickly grabbing a towel and drying himself off, before putting on his street clothes and exiting the dojo (not before bidding his master farewell, of course.)

It was nearing sunset; the sky was beginning to redden slightly. There were few clouds; those that were present were wispy, like the thinning hair of a very old person. The air was crisp, almost uncharacteristic of the heat of Reim. This dojo was slightly hidden, located behind an unassuming door in an alleyway. As Nero walked down the alley, heading towards the main street, he heard something coming from behind him. Footsteps, little ones. Perhaps a child?

Nero turned; he scanned the area with ocular orbs, hoping to pick up something, but he saw nothing. He shrugged, and continued walking. It must have been his imagination.

Or was it? The footsteps persisted; Nero turned once more, glancing into the shrouded alleyway. Even though the sun still shone in the sky, the shadows from the buildings cast the walkway in darkness, which was a little bit unnerving to the young Fanalis. He squinted, making out a small figure. Two big eyes stared back at him. He was no longer concerned about the threat of danger; rather, he was curious to see what the source of the noise was. As the figure moved closer and closer into the light, it became clearer to the man just what had been following him. Pointed ears and a tiny frame, little whiskers and big eyes. A little kitten, grey with black stripes, walked into the light. Nero crouched down to meet it.

Spoiler:

Oh. Hello, Cat.

He stuck his arm out, encouraging this little cat to come forward. The cat seemed reluctant at first, but after a few seconds appeared to put this aside, quickly walking up to Nero and rubbing its little head on his palm. He gently picked up the kitten with both of his hands, being sure to support its body. Holding it up such that it was facing him, some thoughts crossed his mind, which he vocalized.

Where did you come from? You lost, or something?

The little kitten, not understanding anything Nero was saying, of course, pawed at him with a happy expression.

I guess you're pretty cute.

With that, he set her down, and continued to walk towards the street. He once again heard the footsteps behind him; they were small, and almost insignificant, but he felt in some way responsible for this critter's safety now. It obviously seemed to have taken some sort of liking to the Fanalis. As he turned the corner, he heard the quickening pace of the little steps, before feeling a sudden weight grip onto one of his lower limbs; the kitten, perhaps spooked by all the people nearby, had run to Nero, attempting to climb up his leg like a tree. The Fanalis sighed. He looked down and met two big eyes, looking upwards. He picked his little "passenger" off from his legs, and held it gently, stopping and leaning against a wall to think about how he would respond to this situation. He was once again gently holding the kitten up, looking into its eyes. He sighed.

Man, oh man. What am I going to do with you, little fella?