Chapter 3: New Home, Old Grudge

The click of the carrier latch echoed like a gunshot in the sudden quiet of the apartment. Jae-won gently tipped the box, and Mira tumbled out onto the cool, polished wood floor of the entryway. She landed awkwardly, a tangle of white fur and unsteady paws, her body still feeling alien and unwieldy.

For a moment, she just lay there, blinking against the relatively bright light after the dimness of the carrier. The apartment air rushed into her sensitive nostrils, a complex tapestry of scents that overwhelmed her human-recalibrated brain. Jae-won’s familiar cologne was there, yes, but underneath it lay stale takeout, dust, a faint metallic tang she couldn’t place, and something else… a lingering, sickly sweet floral note. Soo-min’s perfume. It clung faintly to the air, a ghostly reminder of the betrayal that had unfolded right here. Bile rose in Mira’s throat – or the feline equivalent, a low, guttural growl she quickly suppressed.

"There you go, little one," Jae-won murmured, crouching down. He reached out a hand, but Mira instinctively scrambled backward, bumping into the leg of the entryway table. He sighed, withdrawing his hand. "Okay, okay. Take your time. It's all new, I get it."

New? Mira wanted to laugh, a bitter, hysterical sound that would probably just come out as a hiss. This place is anything but new. This was the apartment where she’d spent countless evenings curled up with Jae-won, watching movies, sharing dreams, cooking meals together in the small open kitchen. Every corner held a memory, now tainted, poisoned by the truth.

Jae-won stood up, running a weary hand over his face. "I should… I should probably give you a name. Can't keep calling you 'little one'." He looked around the apartment vaguely, then his eyes landed on her again. "How about… Nabi? Like a little butterfly." He offered a weak smile. "Mira… Mira liked butterflies."

Hearing her own name used so casually, so sentimentally, by the man who had shattered her life, sent a fresh wave of rage through Mira. Nabi. A common, almost generic name for a cat. How fitting. He’d replaced her, the unique person he claimed to love, with a generic pet named after something she vaguely liked. The insult felt deliberate, even though she knew he was oblivious.

He disappeared into the kitchen area, opening cupboards. Mira heard the rustle of a bag and the clatter of ceramic bowls. Food. Her stomach, despite the turmoil in her mind, rumbled with a primal, animal hunger she couldn't ignore. Still, she remained frozen near the entryway, cautiously surveying her surroundings from this new, low-to-the-ground perspective.

The apartment looked… different. Smaller, somehow. The furniture loomed large, table legs like tree trunks, the sofa a vast, unexplored territory. It was also messier than she remembered Jae-won ever keeping it when she was around. Clothes were draped over a chair, empty instant noodle cups sat on the coffee table next to the wine glasses from that night (which hadn't been cleared away), and a layer of dust coated most surfaces. It seemed the meticulous image he projected to the world, and even to her, had slipped now that he was alone. Or perhaps, now that his real partner in crime wasn't around to tidy up after him.

Her gaze swept the living room. The large window looked out onto the familiar cityscape, grey and rain-washed under the afternoon sky. The TV screen was dark, a black mirror reflecting her distorted, furry silhouette. And then she saw it.

On the bookshelf, nestled between Jae-won’s marketing textbooks and a few novels she’d lent him, was the silver-framed photograph. It was their photo, taken last spring during a trip to Jeju Island. Human Mira, beaming, leaned against Jae-won, her head resting on his shoulder. He had his arm around her, a wide, seemingly carefree smile on his face. They looked happy. Blissfully, stupidly happy.

A choked sound escaped Mira’s throat, a mixture of a sob and a hiss. Seeing her own smiling face, so full of trust and love, staring back at her from this new, nightmarish reality, was unbearable. That woman in the photo was gone forever. Destroyed by the man standing beside her, the man who now kept her picture on his shelf like some kind of twisted memento while harboring her reincarnated soul as his pet.

The injustice of it all solidified the simmering rage within her into a hard, cold resolve. He couldn't bear to take the photo down? Fine. Let it stand as a witness. A constant reminder of what he’d lost, what he’d thrown away. And she, Nabi the cat, would be the living embodiment of his consequence, a furry little poltergeist haunting his guilty conscience. The grudge wasn't just old; it was raw, immediate, and demanding vengeance.

Jae-won returned, placing two small bowls on the floor near the kitchen entrance – one filled with water, the other with dry kibble that smelled vaguely of fish. "Here you go, Nabi," he said softly. "Eat up."

Her stomach growled again, louder this time. The push-pull between human indignation and animal instinct was jarring. Part of her wanted to haughtily ignore the offering, to starve herself in protest. But the animal part, the part that was now undeniably her, was drawn irresistibly to the scent of food. Survival instinct warred with wounded pride.

Survival won. With as much dignity as she could muster, Mira cautiously approached the bowls. She sniffed the kibble suspiciously before taking a tentative bite. It tasted… dry. Bland. Nothing like the spicy jjigae or savory grilled mackerel she used to love. But it was sustenance. She ate quickly, mechanically, trying not to think about how utterly pathetic this felt. Jae-won watched her, a faint, sad smile playing on his lips.

"Good girl," he murmured, as if praising a child.

Mira finished eating and quickly drank some water, the cool liquid soothing her dry throat. She felt marginally better physically, but her mind was racing. Revenge. She needed to plan. How could she make him pay? How could she communicate the truth, or at least inflict some measure of the pain he’d caused her?

Her eyes scanned the room again, landing on Jae-won’s messy desk area. Papers were scattered haphazardly, and his laptop sat open. An idea sparked. Writing! If she could just type a message, leave a clue…

Filled with sudden purpose, Mira padded silently towards the desk. Her feline movements felt more natural now, stealthy and quiet. She leaped onto the desk chair, a surprisingly easy feat, then gathered herself and sprang onto the desk itself, landing silently amidst the clutter.

Jae-won looked up, startled. "Whoa, hey! Getting adventurous already, huh?"

Mira ignored him, focusing on the laptop keyboard. It looked enormous from this angle. She remembered her human fingers flying across these keys, typing emails, reports, love notes… Now, she had paws. Soft, padded paws with non-opposable digits.

She tried to press a single key, aiming for the 'M' of her name. Her paw landed clumsily, hitting 'M', 'N', and the comma key simultaneously. M,n appeared on the blank document open on the screen. Frustration surged. She tried again, concentrating fiercely, trying to use just the edge of her paw. Jk,l. This was impossible!

She shifted her weight, trying to walk across the keyboard, hoping to spell something, anything, meaningful by accident. Her paws skittered across the keys, producing a nonsensical jumble: asdfghjkl;lkjhgfds.

"Woah, Nabi, careful!" Jae-won chuckled, standing up and walking over. He gently scooped her off the keyboard. "Trying to write the next great novel, are we? You're a funny little thing." He scratched her behind the ears, a gesture that should have felt comforting but instead felt patronizing, infuriating. She resisted the urge to sink her claws into his hand.

He looked at the gibberish on the screen and laughed again. "Look what you did, you little troublemaker." He deleted the random letters, then picked up a pen lying nearby. "Maybe you prefer pen and paper?" he joked, holding it out towards her.

Mira stared at the pen, the familiar weight and shape of it. An idea, born of desperation, flashed. She reached out a paw, batting at the pen, trying to knock it towards a piece of paper. If she could just make a mark, a symbol…

Her paw connected, sending the pen skittering across the desk. It rolled off the edge and clattered onto the floor.

"Oops! Clumsy kitty," Jae-won said, bending to pick it up. He placed it back on the desk, further out of her reach. "Let's keep the expensive pens away from the paws, okay?" He gave her another gentle pat before turning back to his own thoughts, leaving Mira perched on the desk, utterly defeated in her first attempt at communication.

He thought she was clumsy. Adorable. Funny. He had no idea the intelligent, vengeful mind trapped inside this small, furry body. He had no clue that his newly adopted pet was, in fact, the ghost of his betrayed girlfriend, silently plotting his downfall from his own desk.

Mira hopped off the desk, landing silently on the floor. She stalked over to the sofa – their sofa – and leaped onto it. The faint scent of Soo-min was stronger here. With deliberate, satisfying precision, Mira extended the claws on her front paw and dragged them down the upholstery, leaving a series of thin, ragged tears in the fabric.

It was a small act. Petty, even. But as she looked at the damage, a tiny spark of grim satisfaction ignited within her. It wasn't writing her name, it wasn't a grand confession, but it was something. A mark. A beginning.

Jae-won wouldn't notice immediately. But when he did, he'd probably just scold 'Nabi' for being a bad cat. He wouldn't understand the fury behind the gesture, the declaration of war embedded in those shredded threads.

Let him remain oblivious. For now. Kang Mira, the human, was gone. But Nabi, the cat with an old grudge and a sharp set of claws, had just arrived. And she was just getting started.

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