Walking through the quiet night streets, Puss wore a thoughtful expression.
'Did I make a mistake by just running away from Spain?' He couldn't help but wonder.
'Why did I give up so easily? Could I have stopped the old man from taking his own life? Could I have done more to protect my reputation? I think I could've, right?... Then why didn't I do any of it?' Puss asked himself, increasingly confused by his own actions.
It wasn't as if he had let the old man die on purpose. But in that moment—filled with anger, confusion, and desperate questions about why any of it was happening—his mind became a blur. And in that blur, he found himself standing still, powerless, as the old man took his own life. What haunted him now was the question of why he had hesitated, even for a second. Why had his mind been so clouded then? And what might have changed if it hadn't been?
'Maybe I still don't take this world seriously, even though I've lived here for 15 years? No… I don't think that's it. Am I afraid of the responsibilities of being a hero? Or of disappointing others?' The questions in his mind seemed endless.
Eventually, he reached the empty docks, where only the sound of the waves and insects could be heard.
He looked up at the moon, which appeared enormous tonight, glowing over the sea and reflecting a breathtaking view.
'Why did I want to be a hero in the first place?'
The question surfaced in his mind.
He took off his hat and looked at it with a complex gaze.
'I got the hat and the boots because I was a hero… from the very beginning, my goal was to be a hero. But I think I was just following what the canon Puss in Boots was supposed to be, along with my sense of justice. But is it really worth it, being a hero? In everything I read in my past life, being a hero was far more than being a good person. It was a responsibility and a shackle with no benefits—only sacrifice, and often even a bad reputation… but maybe that's what being a hero is: trading your selfishness for kindness, your life for the lives of others…' He reflected, dazed.
'So far, I've been more of a good person and a philanthropist than the kind of hero I dreamed of being…'
'... could I trade my life, even if it's just one of the nine, for a stranger's?'
The question came to him, and he didn't know the answer.
Puss was pulled from his thoughts when he sensed someone approaching.
"Life getting complicated?"
Jack had arrived, his iconic bottle of rum in hand, stepping up beside him.
"It always was… just feels more than usual," Puss replied indifferently, placing his hat back on his head.
Jack stopped next to him and also calmly looked up at the moon, taking a sip from his rum.
Though their height difference made a funny contrast, in that moment, under the moonlight, they looked as if they stood shoulder to shoulder in their solitude.
"You don't seem like a bad guy," Jack said suddenly.
"Thanks, I guess…" Puss was slightly surprised, but still nodded in appreciation.
"Did you do the things they accused you of?" Jack asked, eyes still on the moon.
"No." Puss didn't take his gaze off the moonlight either.
"Figured… good people don't usually have good lives," Jack said, surprising Puss.
"You don't seem like a good person, and I haven't seen you living well either," Puss couldn't help but retort, slightly offended by Jack's harsh words.
"Well… never said bad people live well," Jack shrugged.
"Maybe you're just not bad enough," Puss said, surprising Jack this time and making him turn to look at him.
"Why do you say that?" He asked, sensing there was more behind the cat's words.
"I don't know much about you, but I can guess a few things. You said last time, drunk, that you lost your ship—the Black Pearl. And earlier today, you mentioned that in your twelve years as a captain, you never attacked civilians. Pirates aren't known for their kindness, so I imagine you lost it in a mutiny, from crewmates angry with your lack of cruelty and pillaging. Of course, it could be for other reasons too, but I feel like that's the real one."
Puss lifted his head and looked at Jack as he said this.
He'd pieced it together from what he knew from the movies, backed by Jack's own words.
Jack looked at Puss in surprise.
"You're a smart kid." He said, then looked back up at the moon and swallowed the rest of his rum.
"And you're a stinky pirate. How many days has it been since you last bathed?" Puss rolled his eyes, pinched his nose, and took a step back.
"Bath? Pirates only bathe when they fall into the sea. And I, the captain, don't fall into the—Ahh!" Jack started to boast, but stopped with a startled cry as something unexpected happened.
The sole of a boot had smacked into his rear, sending the already-wobbly Jack tumbling straight into the ocean.
Splash!
"Well then, let's see if this so-called pirate bath actually works now." Puss said, amused, landing softly on the ground after the kick.
He wasn't joking—Jack did stink. His sharp feline nose had been burning just from being so close.
Of course, it was tolerable, and he could've ignored it… but mostly, he just wanted to cut the conversation short. He still wanted a bit of solitude right now.
So, while Jack, floating in the water and now much more sober, watched him go with irritation, Puss disappeared, entering the ship via the gangplank.
…
Puss resumed his thoughtful walk, occasionally having to leap over the bodies of a few drunk sailors passed out on deck.
'Honestly, besides feeling bad about not being allowed into San Ricardo, I'm surprisingly not that bothered about my ruined reputation. Is this the indifference of a cat? Or is it my quick learning helping me accept the situation faster?'
Puss pondered, arriving at the ship's helm. He removed his boots and leapt onto the railing to sleep.
'Maybe it's also because I'm strong enough to take it back. If I storm the royal palace and put a sword to the Spanish king's throat, I doubt he'd hesitate to help me clear my name. I might not even need the king—maybe just threatening the governor would be enough for him to help investigate and clean things up.'
With a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, he rested his head on his front paws and gently swayed his tail side to side.
'Well, have some fun on the other side of the ocean, let things cool down in Spain, and then go back and raise some hell, reclaim your name, help Humpty find the golden goose… assuming he wasn't involved in what happened to me, of course. But I don't believe he was!'
Puss thought, determined and more at ease.
'And if everything goes wrong in the end… isn't there a star out there that grants any wish, and a compass that points to what I desire most? Hehe…'
With those final thoughts, his eyes closed, and a soft, gentle purring came from the little cat peacefully sleeping aboard the pirate ship.