Chapter 4 – The First Time I Went Home
1226 Words
Rocco's Point of View
Morning always arrived too early for my human.
I knew because I waited across the street from the apartment building every day.
Before the sun climbed over the rooftops, before the bakery released the smell of fresh pandesal, before the first jeepney rattled down the road, a light would turn on in the second-floor window.
Ryan was awake.
At first, I thought humans simply didn't like sleeping.
Then I began to watch more carefully.
Every morning followed the same routine.
The light came on.
A kettle whistled.
A shadow moved across the curtain.
Then silence.
About twenty minutes later, Ryan would step out of the apartment wearing the same white office shirt, neatly ironed despite its fading color. His black slacks had been stitched near one knee, and his leather shoes—already peeling at the soles—were polished until they almost looked new.
He always looked at the sky first.
Then he smiled when he saw me.
"You came back."
My tail wagged before my paws could move.
"You really do wait for me every morning."
He scratched behind my ears, the way he always did.
"I wish someone looked this happy to see me at the office."
I didn't know what an office was.
But I was certain it wasn't a happy place.
It stole my human every morning and returned him tired every evening.
Ryan reached into his backpack.
I immediately smelled bread.
He laughed.
"You've got the best nose."
He pulled out half of a pandesal.
"I saved this from breakfast."
Saved.
Another human word I didn't fully understand.
He handed me the bread before taking a small bite from the other half.
That was all he had for breakfast.
Half for me.
Half for him.
Even though his stomach made a quiet sound that told me he was still hungry.
A loud horn echoed down the street.
Ryan looked toward the road.
"Oh no..."
"My bus."
He sighed.
"If I miss this one, I'll be late again."
He patted my head.
"I'll see you tonight, Buddy."
Then he ran.
I watched him disappear into a crowd of people waiting beside a blue-and-white bus.
The doors opened.
Everyone pushed forward.
Some people squeezed inside.
Others were left standing outside.
Ryan barely made it.
The bus drove away.
For a long time, I stared after it.
It looked like a giant metal animal swallowing hundreds of humans every morning.
And somehow...
Every evening...
It spat them back out.
The days became a rhythm.
Morning.
Ryan left.
Evening.
Ryan returned.
No matter how hungry I became...
No matter how far I wandered looking for scraps...
I always found my way back before sunset.
Because Ryan always came back.
One Friday evening, however...
He didn't.
The sky turned orange.
Then purple.
Then black.
The crowd grew smaller.
Streetlights flickered to life.
Still no Ryan.
I waited.
A stray cat crossed the road.
A security guard locked the nearby building.
The bakery closed.
The buses became fewer.
My ears drooped.
Had he forgotten?
Was he sick?
Did the giant metal animal take him somewhere else?
Hours passed.
Then...
I smelled him.
Not before I saw him.
Ryan's scent drifted through the cool night air.
But it was different.
Much stronger.
Sweat.
Rain.
Dust.
Exhaustion.
And something else.
Blood.
Very faint.
I ran toward him.
He looked surprised.
"You waited this whole time?"
His voice sounded weaker than usual.
I noticed a small bandage wrapped around his right hand.
He smiled when he saw me looking.
"Nothing serious."
He laughed quietly.
"Just cut myself on some broken boxes."
Broken boxes?
Why would boxes bite humans?
Ryan sat on the curb much harder than usual.
He looked like every part of his body hurt.
"I'm sorry I'm late."
He rubbed his eyes.
"We had inventory today."
"I wasn't allowed to leave until everything matched."
I didn't understand the words.
But I understood tired.
He looked more tired than I'd ever seen.
He opened his backpack.
There was no plastic container today.
Instead, he pulled out two convenience store sandwiches.
He stared at them for a moment.
Then handed one to me.
"Payday's next week."
He smiled apologetically.
"We'll have to survive on cheap food until then."
He ate slowly.
Very slowly.
Almost as if he wanted the sandwich to last longer.
When we finished, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.
For the first time...
Ryan fell asleep beside me.
His breathing became slow.
Peaceful.
His head rested against the cold concrete.
I carefully moved closer.
Then I curled beside him.
Not touching.
Just close enough that if he woke up frightened...
He would know he wasn't alone.
A cold breeze swept through the street.
Ryan shivered.
Without thinking, I moved closer until my body rested against his side.
My fur was still damp from the evening rain.
But somehow...
He smiled in his sleep.
His hand found the top of my head.
Even asleep...
He gently stroked my ears.
I closed my eyes.
No one had ever touched me like that before.
No one had ever trusted me enough to fall asleep beside me.
For the first time...
I wasn't guarding food.
Or hiding from danger.
I was protecting someone.
And somehow...
That felt more important than protecting myself.
Ryan woke with a start.
"Oh no!"
He looked at his watch.
"I fell asleep?"
He laughed nervously.
"My landlord's going to kill me."
He stood, stretching his aching back.
Then he looked at me.
"You know..."
He hesitated.
"I've been thinking."
He scratched his neck.
"You can't keep sleeping on the street."
He looked toward the apartment building.
Then back at me.
"They don't allow dogs."
He sighed.
"But..."
Another pause.
"If nobody sees you..."
He smiled mischievously.
"Maybe..."
His eyes sparkled for the first time all day.
"C'mon."
My ears perked up.
He opened the rusty blue gate.
I hesitated.
I'd never been inside a human home before.
Ryan noticed.
"It's okay."
He crouched beside me.
"I promise."
"I won't let anyone hurt you."
I believed him.
I followed him quietly up the narrow staircase.
The hallway smelled of old paint, laundry soap, cooking oil, and sleeping families.
Ryan unlocked a faded brown door.
It creaked softly.
He peeked into the hallway to make sure no one was watching.
Then he whispered...
"Quick."
I hurried inside.
The room was...
Tiny.
Smaller than I imagined.
A single bed pushed against one wall.
A small table with an old electric fan.
A rice cooker sitting beside a portable stove.
One chair.
One window.
Stacks of books.
Folded clothes.
A calendar with overdue bills tucked beneath a magnet.
Nothing expensive.
Nothing fancy.
Yet the room smelled unlike anywhere I'd ever been.
Soap.
Coffee.
Fresh laundry.
Warm rice.
Ryan.
Home.
He closed the door quietly behind us.
Then looked at me with a nervous smile.
"Well..."
He spread his arms.
"It's not much."
"But..."
He knelt and scratched beneath my chin.
"Welcome home, Buddy."
At that moment...
I didn't care how small the room was.
Or how old the furniture looked.
Because after spending my whole life searching for a place where I belonged...
I had finally found one.
Not because of the walls.
Not because of the roof.
But because my human was inside it.
And wherever Ryan was...
That was home.
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