Shirleyviel’s stuttering voice was interrupted before she could finish, overtaken by a choked sob.
“Uuu… Miss!”
Old Anna could no longer maintain her distance as a bystander. She staggered forward, only to stop a few steps away, as if afraid to disturb this fragile miracle.
Her wrinkled face was streaked with tears, and the look she gave Shirleyviel was full of joy and relief.
Shirleyviel had been interrupted; her words unfinished.
She looked up in a daze, her red eyes gazing at the weeping Old Anna.
She recognized this face, the one that always accompanied her with worry and careful attention.
Yet the surge of emotion on that face now felt unfamiliar to her, even making her instinctively shrink back a little. Her arms tightened unconsciously around the black cat she held.
The black cat gently struggled free, jumped down from her embrace, and with light, silent steps, walked to the roots of a distant oak tree. There, it sat down elegantly with its back to them, tail loosely curled around its paws.
It left the space completely to this mistress and her servant.
Shirleyviel’s gaze followed the black cat as it moved. Seeing it “leave” and turn its back to them, a subtle panic flashed in her eyes, but she was quickly pulled back by Old Anna’s uncontrollable sobbing.
She watched Old Anna’s trembling shoulders and tear-stained face. Her lips moved.
Old Anna, understanding the black cat’s intent, tried desperately to control herself. She rubbed her face with her sleeve, forcing out a smile uglier than crying, her voice hoarse:
“Miss… I’m sorry… Old Anna is just too happy… truly… so happy… you can speak again… and you recognize yourself…”
Shirleyviel tried to use her newly recovered voice once more.
“…An…” Her voice was very soft.
“…na…” The second syllable was forced out with difficulty.
“An… na…”
Shirleyviel repeated it, this time a bit more fluently, though still awkward.
Old Anna nodded vigorously, her throat too choked to form a complete sentence: “Yes, Miss, it’s Old Anna.”
Shirleyviel looked at Old Anna’s excited face. In her red eyes, which once more began to reflect the world, something slowly settled.
She spoke again: “…Thank… you…”
The two words came out extremely slowly, one by one, yet each was clear as can be.
Old Anna could no longer hold herself up. She knelt on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably, only able to repeat, “Miss… my Miss…”
After Shirleyviel finished, she seemed to have exhausted all her strength for communication. Her eyelids drooped tiredly, her gaze instinctively searching for that black figure.
She saw the black cat still quietly sitting with its back to them by the roots, its tail tip occasionally flicking the ground. Her tense shoulders relaxed just the tiniest bit.
She didn’t try to speak again. She simply hugged her knees, sitting under the shade, listening to Old Anna’s gradually calming sobs, watching the swaying grass in the distance, and occasionally, her gaze would drift toward the black cat.
The rest of that day passed in a quiet atmosphere, undercurrents swirling beneath the surface.
Old Anna finally regained some composure. Though her eyes were swollen, the smile at her lips could not be suppressed.
Shirleyviel mostly returned to her usual silence, but she was no longer completely shut away. She would respond to Old Anna’s care with glances or tiny movements.
At dusk, the black cat Ian stretched lazily, then slipped out of the yard without a sound, vanishing into the thickening twilight.
He knew that at this moment, Shirleyviel needed some time to process the shock of her first act of initiative, and to rebuild a more “normal” relationship with Old Anna. For now, this “special existence” should withdraw for both their sakes.
Besides, after being a cat for so long, Ian needed to relax and be ‘human’ for a while.
***
Until the deep of night.
Shirleyviel lay alone on her bed in the bedroom.
The wall lamp was set very low, but she kept her eyes open, her red pupils shining faintly in the gloom.
Her fingers unconsciously toyed with the corner of her quilt, her gaze drifting now to the tightly shut door, now to the window.
Until the moon reached its zenith, and a faint “tap” sounded on the window lattice.
Shirleyviel immediately turned her head.
The window was pushed open a crack from outside. A black shadow slipped in nimbly and landed lightly, soundless.
Moonlight outlined its lithe form and those platinum eyes that glimmered in the dark.
Ian had ‘messed around’ and returned.
He paced to the side of the bed and looked up at the girl on it.
Shirleyviel looked back at him. Then, slowly, she moved to the inner side of the bed, leaving a clear spot on the pillow next to her.
She reached out and patted the empty space, her eyes on the black cat. Her lips moved, as if she wanted to speak, but she struggled with the words.
She tried several times, her brows knitting. At last, with great effort, she forced out a few syllables—halting, indistinct, but their intent clear:
“S-sleep… together…”
Her voice was soft, and quite pleasant.
Ian felt a little gratified, as if thinking, ‘The child I raised has finally grown up.’
He leapt gently onto the bed and curled up in the spot she had prepared.
At last, Shirleyviel was at ease.
She let out a light breath, turned on her side to face the black cat, curled up, and gently rested her hand on its soft back, just as she had done countless nights before.
Soon, the gentle sound of even breathing filled the room as both girl and cat fell into a deep sleep.
***
The following month, Erna Village seemed to regain its vitality.
Shirleyviel resumed learning to “speak” and “communicate.” Though the process was slow, she made steady progress.
At first, it was still single words or simple phrases. “Water.” “Hungry.” “Flower.” “Bird.” She would try her best to say these words when needed or when asked.
Her voice gradually shifted from dry and scratchy to clear, though still lacking much inflection.
Old Anna and the others never rushed her, even if she only responded with a nod or shake of the head, or an occasional word.
By the last week of the three-month period, Shirleyviel could already communicate fluently with others.
But there was one condition: the black cat had to be by her side for her to manage it.
The black cat was Shirleyviel’s ‘courage’ and ‘anchor’ in interacting with the world. Without him, she would return to being the fearful, sunlight-averse vampire, dreading anything ‘external.’
Three days remained until the end of the three-month period.
That night, Shirleyviel was already fast asleep, breathing evenly, one hand unconsciously resting on the black cat’s warm back.
Yet those platinum cat eyes reflected the stars outside in the darkness.
Ian felt no drowsiness.
On the system panel, Shirleyviel Connalt’s Correction Rate had stabilized at a rather high level.
Her body was essentially healthy; her senses and mind had reconnected with the world, and she was able to converse fluently in daily life.
Only, she was still a little timid.