Simon stared at the small spray bottle in his hand with a serious expression, as if he were holding a live grenade. The label read “Organic Catnip Spray — 100% Natural,” 🌿featuring an image of a happy-faced cat beneath the words “for calm and playtime.”
“Yeah, calm and playtime, huh,” he muttered cynically. “We’ll see about that.”
He spritzed it twice onto his chest and neck. A faint herbal scent filled the air—not overpowering, but strong enough to make a human nose tingle slightly. He just shrugged it off, dismissing it as a trivial matter.
A few minutes later, he walked back into his office, his skull-patterned mask still covering his face as always. He knew Luna would be coming—that stark white cat with a permanently annoyed expression that seemed a mix of elegance and eternal irritation.
One thing Ghost had learned after weeks of living with Luna:
she could be the sweetest creature in the world... but also the most terrifying enemy when she was in a bad mood.
---
The office door nudged open slightly, and a long white tail appeared first.
Ghost lowered his gaze. “There you are, Princess.”
Luna strolled in with a slow, calculated gait, her tail swaying left and right, her eyes narrowed slightly. She approached like a professional appraiser inspecting new territory.
Ghost smiled faintly behind his mask. “C’mon, Luna. Up here.”
He patted his thigh, hoping the cat would jump up as usual. But Luna stopped in the middle of the room, her eyes suddenly widening a fraction. Her small nose twitched rapidly, sniffing the air, and then...
…meow?
Her voice was soft and hesitant, but enough to make Ghost stifle a laugh.
“Oh, you smell that, don’t you?” he said softly, his tone almost teasing.
Luna looked at him again, then—without warning—darted straight toward him.
---
“Bloody hell—!” Ghost didn't even have time to react before the ball of white fur leapt onto his chest—landing right on the spot where the catnip had been sprayed. Her tiny claws snagged lightly into his tactical vest, and Luna immediately pressed her head against his chest as if she’d found paradise.
The cat began to writhe and roll in his lap, rubbing her face against his jacket and mewing softly, as if declaring her undying love for the scent of catnip clinging to him.
Ghost sat as rigid as a statue.
“...What the hell…”
But what happened next caused him to lose the last shred of his military composure.
Luna gently bit at his black glove—*nibble, nibble*—then licked his index finger with half-lidded eyes, looking like a cat slightly high on the stuff.
“Oi— Luna, stop that. That’s my hand, not your toy.”
But the cat didn’t care in the slightest. She started meowing softly, stretched again, then climbed onto Ghost’s shoulder, burying her face against his skull-mask as if trying to hug him.
---
From outside the door, the sound of approaching footsteps could be heard.
“Ghost, mate—” Soap opened the door, then immediately silent. “...What the bloody hell am I lookin’ at?”
Ghost could only stare back, still sitting tensely, while a white cat rolled around on his chest with an expression of sheer bliss.
Luna looked like a ball of fur high on happiness.
Soap stared at the scene for a long moment, then grinned broadly. “You finally cracked, didn’t ye?”
“Shut it, Johnny,” Ghost muttered.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. The mighty Ghost... brought down by a cat.” Soap stifled a laugh. “What did ye do to her, eh? Feed her coffee?”
“Plant,” Ghost answered quickly.
Soap paused. “You mean Catnip? You sprayed yourself with catnip?”
“It was for science.”
Soap nearly doubled over laughing. “Science my arse! Look at her, she’s makin’ biscuits on yer chest, mate!”
And it was true—Luna had started kneading Ghost’s chest with her front paws, as if lovingly working an imaginary batch of dough.
---
Ghost let out a heavy sigh. He tried to gently move Luna aside, but the cat adamantly refused, clutching his uniform even tighter.
Luna let out a soft meow, her expression a mix of affectionate neediness and blissful contentment. She rubbed her face against Ghost’s helmet once more, leaving a few white hairs behind.
Soap couldn't resist and pulled out his phone. “Price’s gonna love this—”
“Don’t you dare, Johnny.”
“Tch, too late.” *Click!*
The sound of the camera shutter rang out clearly.
---
A few hours later, the Task Force 141 headquarters was abuzz over a photo quietly circulating in their internal group chat:
Ghost sat upright, his skull mask as menacing as ever... but nestled against his chest, a white cat was fast asleep, its face pressed close to Ghost’s neck like a tiny infant.
Soap’s caption for the photo simply read:
> “New recruit. Callsign: Purr-ator.”
---
Later that day, Price knocked on the door to Ghost’s quarters, suppressing a smile.
“Ghost, lad, I hear we’ve got a new morale officer?”
Ghost just sighed. “Sir, with all due respect… don’t start.”
Price crossed his arms. “So, what’s the situation report?”
“Cat’s high on catnip.”
Price looked at Luna, who was still lazily stretching out on the table. "Yeah, looks like you've lost operational control."
Gaz walked by and chimed in, "She's our squad's new mascot now. I think we should get her a little vest."
Soap reappeared in the doorway. "Oh, I already ordered one online. It says 'Meowr-ine Division'."
Ghost stared at them all with a deadpan expression behind his mask.
"...I'm surrounded by idiots."
---
After everyone had left, he looked at Luna, who had hopped down from the table and settled comfortably onto his lap. The cat was much calmer now, purring softly every so often with her tail curled neatly around her body.
Ghost sighed, his voice softer this time.
"You're quite a handful, you know that?" he murmured warmly.
Luna looked up at him for a moment, then licked the tip of his glove again, as if to answer: *Yes, I know.*
---
That night, Ghost returned to his room with Luna still clinging to him like a shadow. He tried to sit on the bed, but the cat immediately leapt onto his chest, purring like a tiny engine.
He stared up at the ceiling. "You're making it hard for me to keep up my image, you know?"
Luna simply gave a soft meow and stretched, as if to say, *That's your problem, human.*
Ghost chuckled—a sound that rarely escaped him.
Perhaps, he thought, there were things that neither war nor military discipline could erase. Like how a tiny creature could breach a person's defenses without using a single weapon.
"Alright, Luna. You win. But next time..."
He paused, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"...no more *catnip* experiments." The cat didn't answer—instead, she purred even louder, looking satisfied at having conquered the famously untouchable Ghost.
---
The next morning, Soap walked down the hallway and saw Ghost strolling casually, carrying Luna in one arm. "Morning, lovebirds," Soap teased. Without turning his head, Ghost replied in a flat tone, "Say that again and I’ll spray you with catnip."
Soap burst out laughing. "Aye I’d like to see you try, mate—"
But then Luna, from the safety of Ghost’s arms, stared at Soap and let out a loud meow—*MIAOW!*—as if warning him not to mess with her "human."
Soap looked at her in surprise. "Damn, she really has become your partner now."
Ghost kept walking, gently stroking the small head resting against him.
"Yeah," he said softly, barely audible.
"She’s part of 141 now."
