Chapter Text
Wild animals are not your friends. That’s nothing new; any grown-up—dumb or smart—will tell you that.
So, how about aliens?
In retrospect, he should have seen this coming when the cat’s paws glowed red. But—hey, it was dark. For all he knew, it could have been a reflection of the streetlights.
Satoru really didn’t mean to bring an alien home; he thought it was a stray cat at first. Sure, it didn’t “meow” or “hiss” the way normal cats did, or eat food like most living things should have, but he didn’t discriminate. It still had two pointy ears; black, fluffy fur; and four sets of sharp claws which it used to swat at his arms when he tried picking it up.
It looked like a cat and acted like a cat. Is he really so wrong for assuming it was a cat?
***
According to the cat, yeah —he was. The cat—who Satoru then named Mefi after the odd way it meowed—didn’t take kindly to being coddled or petted.
By the end of their first day together, both of Satoru’s arms were covered from top to bottom in band-aids and pink-red slashes. His hands had suffered the brunt of his onslaught though; rings of bandages adorned each finger, and fresh puncture wounds covered the back of his hand. Who knew cats could bite so deep?
Mefi had weapons of mass-destruction at his fingertips and teeth, as if he wasn’t going to use them at any chance he got.
Everyone he knew considered him to be a patient kid. But after receiving what he believed was the hundredth slash on his hand, Satoru decided that, “That’s it, I’m taking you to the vet tomorrow morning; then I’m going to the pound and leaving you there for someone else to take home!”
Dumbstruck, Mefi—whose head was an inch away from Satoru’s arm—stopped in the middle of taking a chunk out of his arm and gaped at him. With an expression Satoru thought vaguely resembled shock, Mefi shook his head fiercely and climbed into his lap. There, slowly and hesitantly, Mefi began to gently knead Satoru’s legs. This continued for a while. When he thought it was comfortable enough, Mefi curled up against Satoru’s stomach and nuzzled his hand.
To anyone else, this would be adorable. And if he hadn’t spent the past three hours with Mefi, Satoru would wholeheartedly agree. But, having known him–
“...What the heck. Do you have two personalities or something?”
“Me-f.”
***
“Your cat is kind of odd, don’t you think?”
“I do. Sometimes I wonder if he’s actually a human or something.”
“Yeah… I’m getting creeped out by the way he’s staring at me.”
Sure enough, when Satoru swiveled in his chair to look at Mefi, he was staring straight at his classmate. His body was sprawled across the top of the bookshelf and he was eerily silent. For a moment, Satoru thought he almost looked angry.
“That’s weird…” Satoru mumbled. “He hasn’t been like this since the first day I brought him home.”
“I think your cat might be jealous,” His classmate giggled and slowly reached for his hand, all while maintaining eye contact with Mefi.
“Hah, as if–”
Satoru heard three things in quick succession: first, the loud thunk of something heavy hitting the ground; second, the speedy pitter-patter of light footsteps falling against wood; and third, a defiant “MeOWR” right underneath his chair.
“Hahaha– Ok . Ok. I apologize, Mr. Mefi. I give up, Satoru belongs to you.”
“Me- ff,” he huffed, and promptly leapt onto Satoru’s chair. As soon as he was situated comfortably in Satoru’s lap, Mefi wrapped his tail around his waist protectively.
“Mef? I’ve never heard a cat meow that way.”
“Neither did I, yet here we are.”
“Me-f!”
**
“Yeah, there’s a weird man outside my apartment door. He’s telling me to let him in because ‘I’m in danger’; that there’s an ‘alien’ in my house and… No, I do not have an alien in my house. I’m ten. And no, I don’t know him… I think—he might be drunk? I’m not going to ask him… Hey, are you going to help me out or not?!”
“I don’t know what it’s been telling you, but it’s lying!” The man on the other side of the door screamed. “It’s dangerous, you have to let me in!”
The knocking grew louder, and the operator on the other side of the phone call wasn’t helping at all. So—hoisting Mefi against his chest, and making sure to keep quiet—Satoru crept down the hallway and slipped into his dad’s closet.
Once they were safely inside, Mefi, who had stayed silent for the entirety of the ordeal, suddenly began pawing at the door and roughly scratching at the wood.
“Shh!” Satoru snatched his paws to stop him from making noise, but then he noticed that the knocking at the front door had abruptly stopped.
He considered making a break for it, but upon further thought, realized that, Oh, this is how horror stories begin.
Satoru pressed his ear against the door; he attempted to pinpoint where the man had gone, but his efforts turned up fruitless. On top of continuing to wriggle in his arms, Mefi kept gnawing at his wrists.
It all felt suffocating.
“I’m scared.” His voice trembled as he tightened his shaking arms around Mefi’s waist; he muffled his hiccups by burying his face into his fur and softly cried.
Bizarrely, Mefi didn’t seem to mind. In another situation he may have, but as claustrophobia and nyctophobia slowly gripped him, Satoru was glad he didn’t.
“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.” He heard a voice say. It was distorted and deep, like radio static; Satoru had never heard it before. For some unknown reason, though, Satoru found it comforting. The cognitive side of his brain screamed in alarm and yelled at him to get up and run , but his pacing heart—attempting to cope with the situation—sought comfort in the voice; it brought him a sense of security and gently lulled him to rest. Satoru fought against the drowsiness as valiantly as he could; in the end, he lost.
As the dying embers of his consciousness flickered out, he thought he caught a glimpse of another person in the closet. Business shoes, slacks, and a tie. How odd…
The last feeling he recalls is a large hand ruffling his hair; then strong arms circling beneath his legs and tenderly lifting him off the floor.
“Goodnight, Satoru.”
***
“Good morning,” Satoru mumbled into his blanket. He attempted to roll himself out of bed, but Mefi mewed and swatted at his chest when he moved. “Haaah– You’re so heavy.”
“Me- f!” Mefi grinned cheekily and, to add salt upon injury, resolutely planted himself on top of Satoru’s chest.
Satoru took a deep breath, then swiftly hooked his hands underneath Mefi’s arms, hoisting him into the air. For a moment, Mefi hung there limply—dumbfounded—then a flurry of aggravated yowls spilled from his mouth. All they did was edge Satoru on. He giggled and rolled onto his side, bringing Mefi down with him.
“Not so tough anymore, are you?” He choked out between his laughter.
“Mee- ff.”
Mefi pressed his paws against Satoru’s cheeks and tried, with great determination, to push him away. Alas, it was to no avail; with a simple nudge, Mefi’s paws slipped from Satoru’s face and dangled out above him helplessly. Annoyed, he swatted his tail at Satoru’s arm, but Satoru refused to let go. Instead, he brought him closer until their faces were a whisker apart and Mefi could reach Satoru’s shirt with his foot. Though he found the idea tempting, Mefi resisted willfully. He tilted his head in confusion and decided to wait for Satoru to speak up.
However, no words would come; Satoru wordlessly leaned forward until their noses met in the middle.
“Me.. f?” He had never heard of this tradition before…
They stayed in that position for what felt like hours, before Satoru finally distanced them apart and spoke again.
“I love you, Mefi.”
“...”
Mefi felt Satoru’s grip loosen, then his hands slipped out from under his arms completely. When he heard Satoru’s soft snores, Mefi wrenched himself underneath his arms and pressed his body snuggly against his.
“I love you too.”