KITTEN || five hargreeves

03

•••

"Checkmate."

Kit groaned, and Five smirked at her misfortune. This was his fourth win, and she was starting to grow tired of him always beating her.

"How the fu-"

"I had 55 years to practice," Five interrupted, leaning back in his seat. Their next assignment was in exactly 9 hours, and Kit was 'hanging out' with Five before they would be sent to the 20s for a recon mission.

"Where were you for that long?" Kit asked, watching Five reset the pieces. She tilted her head at his silence. Kit had never tried to pry into his past before, but as she watched Five scratch his white beard in contemplation, she realized she wanted to know more. More about Five. Where he was, where he's been. And where he might go.

Five sighed and ran a hand through his silver hair.

"The apocalypse."

Kit's back straightened as she met his eyes, her own widening.

The world seemed to stop turning for a second.

"The apocalypse?!"

Five blinked, unaware of why she would have such a reaction.

"Two thousand nineteen." Kit whispered, and Five immediately stood.

"How-"

"I was there, Five!" Kit cried, standing up to meet him. The desk was the only thing separating their shaking figures.

"What- how?-" Five stuttered, unable to comprehend what Kit was saying. Kit was- no... there was no way she was there! He was the only one-

"I was an experiment," Kit gasped, tears pricking her eyes upon finding someone who shared her same fate. "They- they sent me forward to see if it would work..."

"I thought I was the only one." Five's eyes closed and he put his face in his hands. "I thought-"

"I was completely alone. For so many years," Kit completed for him, reaching out to grab one of the hands covering his face. Five stared at their conjoined fingers, squeezing Kit's.

Kit smiled at their hands, knowing Five didn't prefer contact unless it was necessary. She squeezed back, the weight of her confession straining down upon her shoulders.

"The Kitten," Five blurted, and Kit met his eyes once again. She nodded.

"The old story. Is that why you have that nickname?"

Kit sat back down, letting her hand fall of Five's. She picked up a pencil that was on the desk and began to fiddle with it, nervous.

She nodded.

Five sat back down as well. "Will you tell it to me?"

Kit's ears turned red, but she nodded her ascent, leaning back.

"The Kitten. It's an old bedtime story my mother used to tell me back when I was born. The little kitten started life off just fine. Her orange body was unlike that for a little kitten, and she was sent away from her family for her differences. She walked through gale and storm and fields and sun until she found herself lost. She would grow up all alone, in a little cave by the sea, cast out by everyone she knew. The Kitten wept every night for her long-lost family, those who had cast her out for being orange when everyone else was gray."

Kit paused for a second, making sure Five was still listening. Five gestured for her to continue, engrossed in her story.

"The Kitten did what she could do survive, but it wasn't enough. Promising her a better future, she listened to a little blue bird's advice and trekked her way to the city, but found it empty. The people had moved away, afraid of something.

"So the Kitten continued to search, until she came upon a place to work. She worked until she could no longer find the strength to stand, and so she died. A stones throw from where she was cast out."

Kit sighed.

"I thought it was a raven."

Kit looked up at Five, who was staring at her intensely.

"A raven?"

"In the story, you said it was a little blue bird who told her to leave. My sister said it was a raven."

Kit giggled. "I grew up in the 1960s, Five. Things were different then."

Five's eyes widened yet again, but she didn't give him time to respond. "Well, I gotta split. I'll see you in the briefcase room!" Kit shuffled out the door, shooting Five a nervous glance. She would never admit it, but she actually cared what he thought.

Five watched her go, pondering. The 60s, huh? He imagined Kit as a teenager, with her red hair and caramel skin. It was hard imagining her that young and not the lady that was just sitting across from her. Five analysed the information he had about Kit and nodded while he mentally filed it away. She was interesting. Five wondered if The Kitten was a complete reflection of her life.

He picked up her file, exactly where he had left it on the floor beside him. It said the same exactly thing, but he read it over and over again. There was no birth year, no records. Kit was a puzzle that was slowly coming together in front of his eyes.

And he wanted to solve it.

•••