Haru.

Prologue.

He was sitting in his bed, staring as the rats swarmed around him. He tried to screech, but nothing came out except for a breath of air.

The rats' large, bloodthirsty eyes gleamed, and they lunged. They dug their vicious bared teeth into his pelt, tearing clumps of fur from him. The rocked him back and forth, biting deeply into his side.

"Haru!" He heard a distant voice calling to him. He wanted to speak, but he still couldn't make a sound. The rats were still viciously biting along his flanks.

"Haru!" The same voice called again, it sounded angry, but it sounded familiar. "Have my siblings come for me?" He thought, thinking they had come to finally bring him with them to the afterlife.

The rats bit at him more, rattling him again. He was finally able to let out a screech, and he did so. When the screech sounded from his vocals, the rats suddenly disappeared. He slowly blinked open his eyes, feeling as if he could still feel the rats biting him. He looked up, seeing his sister with her paws jabbed into his side. "Stop kicking around Haru! I'm trying to sleep!" She complained to him, her voice hushed.

"Sorry." He apologized, "I was having a nightmare."

His sister sat back on her haunches, sighing. "It's fine," she muttered, sighing, "just stop kicking." He slowly nodded glanced around, feeling his sister lay back down on the cushion. There wasn't a rat in sight.

Suddenly he realized his mother's even breathing on his back. Haru sighed in relief, pulling his legs closer to him and he moved himself closer in to his mother's warm belly.

He took a last glance at his sister, who was already sleep. He watched her white pelt steadily rise and fall in sleep. Her pelt almost was completely blended into the cushion, except for her jet-black ears and tail. He purred warmly, smiling to himself.

He looked up at his mother, her beautiful silver-blue pelt shining in the moonlight coming through the window. "Goodnight." He quietly mewed, yawning. Haru rested his head back down, shutting his eyes and returning to the silent darkness that enfolded his mind.