She gripped the strap of her bag tightly, silently hating herself. She was a coward—a pathetic and worthless coward. And she was afraid.

She feared the future. The future was filled with the unknown, and she couldn't protect herself from what she couldn't see. So she was running away from it, and inevitably, that meant running away from him.

She wanted to tell him why she was doing this. And yet, that was exactly the same reason she was leaving, so she didn't have to tell him. Her head and heart were telling her two different things, and she had followed her head, in an attempt to protect her heart.

He might have understood. He might have told her that everything would be okay, and that he didn't mind, and that the two of them, together, could still be happy. But then again, he might have looked at her with disgust, and left her alone and scared. Or even worse, he might have told her everything would be okay, and that he didn't mind, and that the two of them, together, could still be happy— but inside he was silently hating her.

She didn't want that. She didn't want him to hate her. And so she ran, like the coward she was, she ran.

In her life she had made many mistakes, and somehow, she felt this was the biggest of them all. But believing, thinking, and knowing this still didn't stop her. Even with this knowledge, her feet were still carrying her away from the happiness that had taken so long to build up.

Running quickly across the street she thought that maybe she was a masochist. For nearly half of her life she had shunned herself from the world, voluntarily living in a life of pain, dying alone inside her room. And then when happiness arrived, she always seemed to lose hold of it. And now, with no way to deny it, she was clearly throwing the happiness she had regained in the garbage can.

It didn't make sense. She didn't understand it herself, and yet they were her own actions. And so, she kept on running.

The crowd around her roared, and she hurriedly shrank into the closing train's doors, simply becoming an extra body— a person like every other, with everyday problems, just like everyone surrounding her. And that somewhat comforted her as the train began to move, taking her cowardly self away from her past and the future that once would have been, and toward the future that would be.

I love Cat Street. So yeah, this was bound to come sooner or later. This story takes place a while after the manga ends. I still haven't decided how long after though. I'll hopefully type and post chapter one soon, and it will be longer than the prologue.

Reviews are always more than welcome. ;)