Kiss the Stranger

The savory scent of meat grilling on the portable barbecue drifted through the air. Every time the fat that dripped from the cuts hit the flames, a flare would leap up before quickly settling back down.
I swallowed audibly, holding Rikal in my arms. He, too, had been fidgeting and meowing anxiously for some time. I’d scooped him up when he prowled too close to the grill, worried he might get burned—but he twisted and stretched, trying to wriggle free.
“No, Rikal.”

I scolded him firmly when he failed to escape again, then frowned.
“What is this, Rikal? Your fur’s singed.”
One side of his long whiskers and eyebrows curled into tight spirals. Seeing his burned, twisted whiskers made me feel sorry—and then I couldn’t help but laugh. My face ached the moment I did. “Ouch,” I murmured, and from across the fire I heard a sigh. I looked up without thinking and caught Kamar’s gaze. Embarrassed, I quickly pretended to study /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ Rikal’s fur again.

“Yohan.”
Kamar called me. I met his eyes to see him cutting a piece of perfectly cooked meat and placing it on a plate, holding it out to me.
“Here.”

The aroma was almost painful in its richness. At that moment, Rikal wriggled free of my arms and bolted toward the plate. Watching him circle me, mewing frantically beside my seat, I reached for the dish, intending to set it down in front of him.
“No.”
Suddenly, Kamar snatched the plate away. Rikal let out a sharp “Kyah!”—a harsh, metallic yowl—and arched his back, fur bristling. Kamar glanced at the cat dispassionately.
“You hate me. You’re not eating.”

I blinked in confusion, looking back and forth between Kamar and Rikal.
“No—why would you do that to him…?”
I began awkwardly, and Kamar gave me a quick, silent signal to stop talking. Unsure what to think, I closed my mouth and once more watched Rikal. He meowed, climbed onto my lap, slid down, prowled around, then leaned his paws on my arm, meowing as though begging. His eyes never left the meat in Kamar’s hand; he seemed torn between nursing his pride or begging this enemy for food. He looked at me for help, but I could only offer a helpless expression. Rikal’s agitation grew. Watching him, I decided to stop teasing and asked for the plate—only to be startled, eyes widening.

“…Rikal!”
The crouching cat’s eyes brimmed with tears. The sight of him crying, mewling with tears streaming down his face, was so pitifully adorable that I burst out laughing.
“Alright, here you go.”

I narrowed my eyes playfully and held out my hand. Kamar frowned once but then, as if he couldn’t help himself, handed over the plate.
“Here, Rikal. I’m sorry. You’re hungry, right? Eat up.”
As he placed the dish down, Rikal stilled his mewling and immediately started gobbling the meat.

“Ungang ungan… kyawngangang…”

The sounds of him eating hungrily mixed with low growls at Kamar—so loud it was almost comical. I watched him in silence, then turned my gaze back to Kamar.
“Pretty soon, Rikal will like you more.”

Kamar frowned.
“He started it.”
He protested, looking indignant.

“That one hated me first.”
I tilted my head. Why did Rikal dislike Kamar so much? Was there something I didn’t know? As I pondered, Kamar cut another piece of meat and offered it to me—this time sliced small, surely to accommodate my injured mouth.
“Thanks.”
He gestured for me to eat, so I pursed my lips and blew on the meat until it cooled, then bit off a small piece. The juice that flooded my mouth and the tender flesh were utterly delicious—but every chew left my face aching. Kamar watched me, brow furrowed; I forced a cheerful tone.

“It’s good.”
He said nothing, but his expression softened a little. He began cutting meat for himself when Rikal started meowing again. Both our gazes dropped to the empty plate in front of the cat. I glanced at Kamar. Without a word, he handed the plate back over, surrendering his own portion to Rikal. The cat resumed his noisy feast, and I spoke up.
“In time, Rikal will warm up to you.”

It was supposed to be comforting, but Kamar just shrugged.
“Rikal’s fine. I only need you to like me.”
He said it offhandedly, then sliced a large chunk of meat into his bowl and attacked it with gusto. I resumed eating my share—but Kamar’s words lingered in my ears.

“…I already like you so, so much.”
I murmured softly, and Kamar looked up.
“What was that?”

“Ah, nothing. It’s nothing.”
I denied it hastily, but he’d clearly heard me.
“You said you like me so much—then you call it nothing?”

My face heated and my voice rose before I noticed.
“You heard me!”
Kamar just popped another piece of meat into his mouth and gave me a sly smile. He looked so composed it annoyed me. I shot him a glance—and he paused mid-cut.

“Your cat’s emptied two plates—and you’re still on none?”

I admitted, “My mouth isn’t healed enough yet.” Kamar said nothing, just held out his hand. Puzzled, I realized he wanted me to hold the plate that still had meat on it. I offered it to him, and he frowned, tossed the cooled slabs onto the ground, then cut fresh pieces and returned my steaming plate. I took it gratefully, then realized he must have misunderstood my intentions.
“That’s not it—I mean, thanks, but—”

Kamar stared at me. Having missed my moment, I struggled for words.
“I mean… um…”
I slumped my shoulders.
“Forget it. It’s nothing.”

Kamar watched my face for a moment, then continued eating. It felt like he was waiting for me to speak up, but I shifted the topic.
“How did you even think to bring all this? And meat, too?”
He’d hauled food in while on the run—this spread was more lavish than anything I’d gotten at Saide. There was even a small pot on the grill where he’d cooked rice in broth. A special treat, arranged just for me.

“Thanks.”
I said, glancing down. Rikal, having gorged himself, turned away in disgust at the rice. As I puffed on my breath to cool my plate, I couldn’t help but smile.
We both knew where we were headed. We knew this peaceful chapter wouldn’t last much longer. And yet—I dared to pray that days like this would stretch on, even if only for one more.

After we finished eating, Kamar carried me into the tent in a single embrace.
“How do you feel? Do you feel stronger?”
His worried expression made me nod.

“Yes. Thank you.”
My pain had eased significantly from the medicine. Kamar smiled in lieu of words, then turned and stepped outside. Through the open tent flap I watched him arrange our space. In that moment, Rikal crept inside and curled up on my lap, purring softly. As I scratched his chin, I fell into thought.
What will happen when we reach the city?

I tried to summon memories, but almost nothing came to mind. Kamar had lost his own memories, so our situations weren’t so different. Yet if he really was from the city, someone there—friends, family… maybe even a lover—might recognize him.
A cold dread settled in my chest.
What then? I wondered.

Would his memories return in the city?
He might be married.
That thought, which had flitted through my mind shortly after I first met him, resurfaced suddenly.

What would I do then?
My palms went cold.
And then—what about me?

No answer came. I just sat there, blankly repeating the same thought.
…How would I live without Kamar?