Opening my eyes to the sound of birds chirping, I was greeted by an unfamiliar ceiling. I pushed myself up from the terribly lumpy bed and looked around, spotting a red-haired girl fast asleep in a chair nearby.
Her long crimson hair was gathered into twin tails that draped down to her hips, and sitting neatly atop her head was a pair of animal ears.
(Beastfolk? No, that's not it. She's a monster...)
Beastfolk belonged to the human race and were fundamentally human at their core. But this girl had long whiskers on her cheeks, and her slender limbs were covered in thick, fluffy red fur. She was likely a sheep cat, a monster species.
Wait... how did I know that?
The instant the question crossed my mind, a violent, piercing agony tore through my head.
"Guh?!"
It felt as though someone had struck the inside of my skull with a blunt object—that was the best way I could describe it.
As I remained curled up in pain, a voice called out:
"Are you okay?"
A gentle hand rubbed my back. When I turned around, the girl who had been sleeping just moments ago was right in front of me, her face mere inches away.
"..."
My mind froze. As I stared motionless at her beautiful features, her face rapidly flushed crimson like a ripe fruit.
"S-Sorry!"
Panicking, I tried to pull back, but my back slammed against the wall, pitching me forward straight into her chest.
"..."
Against the soft sensation, a soundless scream escaped her lips, and a tremendous blow struck the side of my face, plunging my consciousness back into the dark.
"I'm sorry for hitting you."
When I came around, the red-haired girl was bowing her head in apology.
"No, that was less of a hit and more of a heavy clobbering..."
I blurted out the first thought that entered my mind.
"I'm really sorry."
The red-haired girl slumped, looking even more dejected.
Apparently, I was naturally bad at considering other people's feelings.
Even so, I at least knew how to smooth over a situation like this.
"Why are you apologizing? You're the one who saved me, right? Thank you. I really appreciate it."
Those halting words of gratitude felt unfamiliar, yet somehow nostalgic.
I think, at that moment, I was prying open the lid of a box buried deep within the storehouse of my heart.
Inside lay vast amounts of malice and despair, but resting right beside them was something that had truly been my most precious treasure. And ironically, I wouldn't come to realize that until that fateful day six months later—the day I gained my most precious thing, and at that very same moment, lost it forever.