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Neko!Germany x Neko!Reader -- Stray / P1

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Two years. That's how long you'd been running.

Scared at first, confidence growing as the long, lonesome nights wore by, hungry most of the time, declawed and helpless to defend yourself from the brutality of other cats around you. Good frig, there were so many cats. You'd never known there could be so many cats.

Until he dumped you, that is.

And the problem was was that they were all hungry--all needed territory--all seemed to be keeping on their toes just to make sure you were miserable, that you had no food, no shelter, no comforts in this sorry excuse for a life that you now lived.

Good frig, why did he dump you? Had you not been good enough? Had you done something wrong? Had he found another cat to cuddle with? To await him at the door every evening when he came home? To lie across his desk as he tapped away at the computer keys, forever working on that book he was never going to finish?

You were going to be in that book, he'd told you. You were going to be the little hero that popped out of the blue when no one was expecting it. It was a murder mystery, he'd said. The protagonist was a young man who'd gotten slung up with a terrible secret and a murder case he had to solve, to prove that he wasn't the killer. By his side, always, was his loyal cat, _______. Just like you--the name, the devotion, the little hero at the end of every day when your master returned home.

Or so you'd thought.

Frankly, you doubted that that murder-mystery-solving cat got dumped at the end of the book, doubted that her owner turned out to be a worthless deadbeat who had no sympathy, who didn't really love her.

But stories aren't always true. You'd learned that from personal experience.

So here you were, two years later. Still on the streets, still struggling to make it through until the light of tomorrow. You were much skinnier, much more lean and ribsy than when those three years had first begun, but you were much better off nontheless. In fact, you'd even managed to make a few friends.

Not that you'd call them that. Out in the wilds of the concrete jungle, no cats are 'friends'. More like allies, lending a scrap when they can spare one to help another out, offering up a warm place to stay when it's simply cruel to leave some cat out in the rain, the cold.

Several times had you been offered help and several times had you yourself been a host. None of these cats however, did you come close to, neither did you wish so. No, distance and cool courtesy was much more becoming, much more effective in terms of things.

So goes city life for a stray.
--
It was a perfect day--warm, not a cloud to be seen beyond the climbing human-built structures that you were sure touched the sky, the sun bright and high overhead. Noon. Lunchtime would be over soon. Perfect.

Rising with a certain swaggering laziness you'd developed over the long, lonesome months, you stretched yourself, tail to the sky and chest on the ground, forepaws in front of you as you worked the kinks out of your back and legs. You'd have to watch for high jumps you thought to yourself, wincing as a particular nitch in your back popped. Getting a little sore around the edges.

Feeling satisfied with the looseness of your joints and muscles, you plopped yourself down on your cardboard box-on-in-a-deserted-alley-home, twisting yourself all around in the most awkward positions as you reached to lick clean your mildly dusty [f/c] pelt.

Thinking as you groomed, you pondered over which resturant you should head for to dine in on this lovely, lazy summer afternoon. Thing was, you'd been hanging about in this certain area of town for a while now, and you were growing rather tired of it. True, it had offered you quite the bounty as far as food and shelter went, but as the warm months had grown longer and warmer, more cats had congregated into this area to join you, all seeming to realize the potential this particular place offered in terms of survival and all more than willing to try and seize a peice of this action for themselves.

You being a declawed female, you weren't much one for territorial fights and were quite prone to lose if ever challenged. And you knew it wouldn't be long now. No, it had been just yesterday that you'd scented several cats that you were sure you'd never found in this place before, and it had rather worried you. All had passed dangerously close to your home and a place as good as yours was  pretty hard to come by. No doubt they'd be over and sniffing it out in a matter of days, at most a week.

But that was alright. You'd be gone by then.

In fact, deciding this on a whim and sitting up as you did so, you would be leaving today. Right now, just as soon as you finished settling your fur to just the proper smoothness.

So that was exactly what you did.

Without even a parting glance back at your cardboard box home, you set off, the pace brisk, tail trailing after you as not to attract attention from any passing cat. Trying to look inconspicuous, harmless. And, really, you quite were.

You made your usual turns and twists through the city, going down certain alleyways to avoid dogs or a particularly territorial cat, passing by the resturants you had once stolen from--all never to be done or passed by again.

At last, you reached a place you found yourself unfamiliar with--a place you had not been before.

It was still the same familiar scape of city--cobbled streets, rows of homes and shops, cars and people off to their business as the day wore on--but completely new to you in every way. New cats did you scent, new delicious smells of food wafting down the allyways upon a warm breeze from new resturants you hadn't even know existed but a moment ago.

Taking a deep breath, as if trying to take it all in at once, you continued on, not at all daunted by the mystery of this new place about you--if anything, it was only invigorating, causing a bounce in your step and a wave in your tail as you went, despite your ever-aware knowledge that there were cats watching, cats of whom you didn't know where or who they were, what they were going to do. All you knew was that they were there. And, much more than likely, it was the exact same for them with you.

Remebering particular alleys and streets as you walked--either to remind yourself to avoid or to not avoid in the future--you decided that, this time, you would go ahead and try for a place that was not at the heart of the hustle and bustle of city life. Yeah, perhaps it was time for a more quieter, a peaceful corner of the concrete jungle for you to try and call home, even if only for a while.

And with this in mind, you began trying to follow along the less busier roads, walking on and on through strange territory with your eyes always open, your ears always pricked for the sound of approaching danger, for the sight of a new den.

Your efforts for peace proved fruitful and you soon found yourself wandering about the quiet, more tranquil sights of the city in which you lived--a near-suburbean neighborhood, surrounded by lucious greenery and filled with large, spacey and upperclass German homes--quaint and adorable in the eyes of American tourists, despite their size.

All around you, you could taste the smells of unknown cats, both stale and fresh and, with a feeling of disappointment filling your belly, you realized that the scent markers were nearly overlapping each other in every which direction. Quite literally, there was not a space to spare, even for a cat such as you that was used to small territories.

Tail beginning to flick and step losing that adventerous swag it had had before, you began to wonder just what you were going to do, where you could possibly stake a claim and make a new home for yourself. Of course, this couldn't be the only quiet place in such prime position to the edge of town--you didn't want to set yourself up too far away from the resturants, your only guarenteed food, after all--but it was absolutely perfect in every way, considering location and the amount of space it contained. The only problem was was that there seemed to already be so many other cats who had thought and taken advantage of this exact place. And competing for territory through means of combat was simply out of the question, seeing as you were declawed, not to mention a queen. Besides, you didn't need nor want much space at all. You didn't desire territory to hunt upon, only a small spot to return to at the end of the day, a place where you could sleep with security--where you could be safe.

And so, with your mind deep in these thoughts, you suddenly found yourself with your face smothered in the fur of another cat--and a very large cat at that.

Meowing in surprise, you backpedaled as quickly as you could, feeling a cold wash of both embarrassment and fear come over you as you took in the full sight of the tom you had just so unfortuneately run into. Quite large, he was, with broad shoulders and defined muscles under the deep gray coat. Blue eyes--light as ice, absolutely peircing--met yours as you dared look up and meet the stare of he who you had disturbed. You could hardly supress the shudder that ran up your spine.

Already low to the ground, muscles tense in anticipation for the action that was about to ensue, whether it be sprinting away or dodging to the side as he tried to land a blow, you await his first move, attenative to his every twitch, each flick of his eyes as he looks you over. But, you realize as he neither rose nor flattened his ears nor puffed his fur as any angry cat would do, he seems not at all angry--only mildly annoyed at worst, merely a bit surprise at best.

And when he opened his mouth, despite your expectation of some sharp reproach or an insult, all he said was:

"Oh, ich entschuldige mich, Frau. Und was könnte man hier heute machen?" He spoke in a deep barotone, quite soothing to the ear.

You twitched a whisker, surprised, trying not to let your nerves show in the face of this large cat. Showing weakness in a situation like this could lead to certain...unpleasentries for you if you were not careful. You sure hated being in such a position, though. If only you had your claws...

Oh. Well, musn't let him know about that either...

"Erm, I apologize. I, uh... Ich spreche...kein Deutsch?" You fumbled your brain for the correct phrase, meant to communicate in slow, choppy German that you did not speak his tongue.

After a moment of something between puzzlement and embarrassment--as he tried to figure out what you'd said, no doubt--he gave you a small smile, chuckling with his deep, deep meow. "Oh, vell zhat's alright. I speak English just as vell."

You couldn't help the releif that came over you as he spoke in a language you understood, feeling flustered and nervous yet, despite his seemingly-friendly demeanor, quickly explaining, "Thank goodness! How odd, yeah? A cat in Germany that doesn't speak German? My master was an American you see--a writer that came here to learn more about the German culture for research and things. He always spoke English to me, so I never much got the chance to learn German, although I probably ought to."

The big tomcat nodded his head in agreement. "Probably so."

With nothing more to say and beginning to feel awkward, you scuffed your paw in some dust on the ground in front of you, unsure if you should try to continue conversation or bid farewell and be off on your way. Surely, you would only be a bother to this cat? Just a passerby who'd tried too hard to make smalltalk and ended up wasting his time?

Tail tip twitching as you conflicted over these things in your head, you were a bit startled when the gray tom spoke up again, asking with a tenative, heavily accented meow, "Excuse my curiosity, but I heard you zay 'your master vas American'? Are you a..." He trailed off, as if uncertain to continue or to simply shut up.

You gave a small smile, shaking your head to confirm his guesses. "He left me two years ago. I'm a stray now. I don't know where he went or why he dumped me--it all just happened one day."

The tom flattened his ears in sympathy, looking at the ground as if he wished he hadn't asked. "I see. I'm very sorry for your loss."

But you only shrugged, a little put off by his pity for you. Did you really look like you were doing that bad? "It doesn't matter. It bothered me at first but after two years on your own you start to realize that today's what counts, not the past."

He looked at you hard a moment, as if trying to grasp something, then stated simply, "Ja. I suppose zhat's a good idea to keep with you. To keep you going."

You only nodded, noticing with a sudden sense of urgency that the sun was rising towards its peak in the sky. Already, the day was half spent. If you were going to find a new place to stay, you knew, you were going to have to get going, and pretty darned fast. Good spots like the one you'd bidded farewell to earlier didn't just appear out of the blue--it took some looking, some compromising, and, frankly, some genius for a cat to scrape out a spot as good as that in a city like this. And all three demanded time, especially in an already over-crowded area such as this, time which you were wasting sitting here in alternations of awkward small-talk and silence with a big, seeming-preoccupied tomcat you didn't even know.

Almost biting your tongue for the feeling of guilt that came over you as you decided that it was high time to move on, despite the fact that it might seem of rude of you to try to leave him so soon, you meowed, keeping an apologetic note in your voice, "I'm so terribly sorry, but I really must be going. I apologize for bumping into you earlier--I kind of spaced out and wasn't watching where I was going."

"Don't mention it." The German cat smiled a small smile at you. "It vas nice meeting you."

You smile as well. "You too. Thanks again for not...well, killing me. Not many cats I've met would be so kind if I had run into them instead." You start off, waving your tail in farewell and heading back in the direction you came, the decision firm in your mind that this was definitely not the place to be looking for a new home--not when there were so many cats that you literally bumped into them.

You were just turning your head to face forward, satisfied with the finality of your goodbye when the tomcat calls after you, almost with a tenative note in his words, "Vait a moment! I, uh...I never did get your name, Frau! I, erm..." He trailed off, obviously embarrassed.

Looking back at him, you smile again, amused by his awkwardness. "_______. My name is _______."

He thinks over this a moment, then tries it out. "_______. Zhat's a very nice name, Frau."

"Well, my master wasn't totally useless now, was he?"

He chuckles. "No. I suppose not."

"...Now that you mention it, I never did get your name, either." As your own moment of embarrassment comes, you handle it with a good dose of grace and skill; looking at the ground, refusing to meet his gaze, you scuff the dust with a paw, tail-tip twitching, ears barely able to hold still themelves.

But he's kind. "Mein name isht Germouser, though some say Germany. It doesn't matter to me."

You dare meet his gaze, soft and gentle, though still so icy. Such a dual, a contrast of which there is no middle ground. In this sense, his eyes are a kind of oddity. But you like that. He seems like a nice cat--indimidating at first glance, but not cold and stony as his appearence may suggest.

Despite yourself, you can't help but have this tiny hope spark up inside that you might see him again. A stupid notion, yes--you only just met, and only by a strange twist of chance. And strays like yourself do not make friends--you have only allies, aquaintences that you swear to yourself and to them that you will never grow close to you. That you can offer help to but never feel their pain except in similiar sympathy as you each face common battles as you fight the fight known as life.

Ah, well. Perhaps he should be one such ally, then. Then you could see him again.

"Auf Wiedersehen, Frau."

You wave your tail again in farewell, then turn and start off yet again, a little warmer inside, a little more hopeful about this new venture after your encounter with the big gray tom called Germouser.

Germouser. Ha. Kind of a funny name.
Part 2: [link]

Alright, first try at writing characterxreader stuffs. Yay for banwagons. D:<

I actually started another one before this, but it and I kind of had a falling out and then I read this sweet, fluffy puffy nekotaliaxreader thing and I was all 'its sooo fluffeh!' and I had to do one of my own. So here you go. Part one. [oyes, this is going to be a series. >BD u lucky ducks, you... -slaves away-]

Anywho, chap two's already nearly done, and I'm kind of having fun with this. Let's see where it goes, yeah?

Hetalia (c) :iconhimaruyaplz:
You (c) you.

It's 3:47 in the morning, people! Flllliiiiiiiiipppp. Rushed and unedited writing is rushed and unedited. Grin and love it. Oh, and the title is BOUND to get changed. I made it up just now~!
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nekosicily927's avatar
I have a strange feeling that you've read the warrior cat series. Also DAYM GOOD STORY!