Chapter Text
Gojo Satoru was still a cat when he woke up the next morning. He didn’t know what time it was, but the sun was out, slivers of golden light beaming through Kento’s gauzy curtains. Catoru let out a quiet meow, stretching his paws out in front of him with a languid arch of his back as he emitted a long yawn. He sighed after the stretch, bleary eyes blinking open, and slowly, his surroundings took shape in front of him.
He was still in Kento’s room, though at some point in the night, he’d moved from Kento’s chest to his face, sprawled out across a high forehead and a soft bed of blond strands. Beneath him, Kento was still, his chest heaving with steady, even breaths, and Catoru blinked again, slowly. To be honest, part of him had expected his predicament to be over by now. Granted, he didn't have a plan for what he’d say when he woke up in Nanami’s bed as an adult man again, but he’d figured he should’ve started drafting one at least. Alas, he was still feline, and that worry could be put off for another day, maybe.
Catoru released a quiet sigh as he let his eyes flutter shut again, relaxing atop Kento’s face. It was a surprisingly comfortable place to be on, but Catoru had always been active, even as a man. He slept a few hours a night, and then he was up and about, usually grading exams or drafting lesson plans. He wasn’t used to having a lot of leisure time, let alone using that time to lie in bed, and after a mere few minutes of sitting atop Kento’s face, Catoru was bored.
He poked a pink little tongue out as he rolled over and onto the bed, landing on his feet beside Kento’s head. Kento, for his part, didn’t stir, and Catoru took the chance to glance around the room in search of a clock. He wandered next to the small table that sat at Kento’s bedside, and on it sat an alarm clock.
Ah. It was barely seven. That explained why the sun’s rays didn’t seem too strong yet, why Kento was still buried under his thin sheets.
Kento looked like a gentle sleeper. Catoru took a seat next to his head, and in the morning light, Kento’s features were golden and serene. The high bridge of his nose sloped into strong, pouty lips, not too big or too small, a beautiful pink. His cheekbones looked sharper from afar than they were up close, soft, smooth skin stretching across them. There was a little crease between Kento’s pale blond brows, and Catoru stood on his hind legs to reach a paw out between them, smoothing the permanent line.
Kento wrinkled his nose, and Catoru would’ve laughed if he could, but then he was face to face with those beautiful brown eyes, and his breath was stolen from him.
Kento blinked slowly, pale lashes fluttering, that brown hue a lovely hazel in the sunlight. It took Kento a few seconds to grasp his bearings, his brows furrowing as he looked at Catoru before glancing around his room for a second, and then, as if he remembered he’d picked up a stray on a whim, he released a quiet sigh, nodding to himself.
“I should give you a name,” he said after a second, his voice deep and raspy with the remnants of sleep in his throat. Catoru let out a low, responding meow at the sound. Kento’s voice was better than the feeling of velvet beneath his fingertips, especially early in the morning. Kento shifted with a soft yawn as he stretched, the edge of his nightshirt riding up and revealing a pale sliver of his abdomen, the tapered waistband of his underwear. Catoru glanced away before his gaze could wander too far, but Kento didn’t seem to notice, sitting up and reaching over to turn off his alarm clock, which hadn’t rung yet.
“Are you hungry?” he asked, glancing down at Catoru, and Catoru tilted his head, his eyes wide. Kento hummed. “I’ll set food out just in case…” He paused. “Miruku?” Catoru wrinkled his nose, his whiskers swaying with the movement, and Kento released a tired chuckle. “You’re right, that’s hardly clever.” He slipped on a pair of slippers before padding to his bedroom door, and Catoru trailed behind him with a swish of his tail. “Does a name have to be unique to be meaningful though?”
Catoru meowed loudly at that. They didn’t, he thought, but he wasn’t a generic cat. He was a beautiful one, white and fluffy, elegant. He didn’t want to be picky about his name, to give such an angelic man a hard time, but he couldn’t help that he had a few standards. He at least wanted something that fit him.
Kento sighed to himself, rubbing at an eye before he washed his hands and grabbed a bowl.
“That’s probably too philosophical for something as simple as a name,” he said, and Catoru offered a soft ‘mraur’ to show he didn’t care. Kento grabbed a can of cat food, pausing to look down at Catoru. “Somehow, you look like you wouldn’t eat something like this,” he said, more to himself than to anyone else, and Catoru gave a swift nod to confirm. Even in this form, he didn’t know that he could stomach resorting to genuine cat food. Kento sighed again, placing the cat food back in the cabinet before grabbing his phone and taking a seat at his kitchen table.
Catoru hopped up on the chair beside him and crossed over to settle in his lap, and Kento didn’t seem bothered in the slightest, shifting his thighs to make a comfortable seat for Catoru and running a hand through his fur. With his free hand, he scrolled through his phone, and Catoru wanted to be nosy, but Kento’s fingers felt good behind his ears, rubbing over his head, and Catoru valued his comfort a little more than he valued knowing what Kento was doing.
After a while, Kento hummed.
“Since you’re so high maintenance,” he began, ignoring Catoru’s protesting yowl, “do you think you can last long enough for me to stop by the pet store? One should be open somewhere.”
He set his phone down and brought his other hand to Catoru’s head, cupping his face between his hands and sliding them down. Catoru let out a tiny purr.
“Says there’s a lot to consider if I want to make homemade meals for my cat,” Kento said, his voice a murmur that made Catoru want to curl into his lap and make a home there for as long as he could. “Nutrition for cats can be peculiar. How about I ask for some recommendations at the pet store, and after that, we can get you something to eat. Are you okay with that?”
He paused to look down at Catoru like he’d understand–and to be fair, he did–and Catoru blinked before nodding with a meow. Kento’s pretty lips pursed in thought for a second, that familiar crease appearing between his brow again. He frowned.
“Do you understand me?” he asked, and Catoru paused. Would Kento be angry if he showed he could? Or suspicious at least? Kento blinked, ducking his head to peer into Catoru’s eyes. “Would it be abuse to have you wait a few hours?” And Catoru realized with an abrupt clarity that Kento was talking to himself still, musing aloud. Kento let go of Catoru’s face to run another hand across his head, and Catoru nudged back against his hand, an attempt at reassurance. Kento picked Catoru up and stood, setting him on the counter before pulling away and grabbing the bowl again. “How about water first, and then we leave.”
He said it like he’d decided that was the best decision himself, and Catoru saw no reason to complain, given he wasn’t starving at the moment. Moreover, he trusted Kento that his nutrition was more particular now, and he figured being hungry for a few hours was better than accidentally eating the wrong thing and dying as a cat. He meowed to himself. Would dying as a cat mean he died permanently, or would he revert back to his usual self before that could happen?
Kento set the bowl of water in front of him, and Catoru ducked his head to lap at the cool liquid while Kento moved on and began to get ready. Catoru didn’t know how much time had passed before he’d emptied the bowl, but Kento was back, dressed in a casual black sweater and pair of navy sweats. Catoru blinked. He was pretty sure he owned a similar sweater, custom made to be intentionally oversized on his frame, and looking at Kento now, Catoru knew he’d look beautiful in his clothes.
Kento had his hair gelled back today, revealing his tall forehead, a pair of reading glasses perched on his nose, and Catoru watched, tail swishing back and forth as Kento grabbed a wallet and slid it in his pocket before turning to Catoru and crouching down in front of him.
“I don’t have a leash or a crate to carry you yet,” Kento said to him, holding out his hand patiently. Another one of those soft smiles when Catoru stepped forward and nosed against it. “I’ll have to carry you for now. I don’t want you to get lost.”
And normally, Catoru would protest, but Kento’s arms were nice, and getting lost in this form was a very real possibility. Navigating the world on four legs instead of two and from a much lower vantage point made things difficult. Having Kento around had been a blessing, and he was confident, not cocky, and therefore not foolish enough to believe he could make it around on his own. Kento was careful as he picked Catoru up before tucking him in his arm, the muscle flexing beneath his weight. Catoru settled there and made himself comfortable, and Kento released a quiet chuckle before standing up and setting off.
The trip to the store was a short one, though Catoru was pretty sure he’d fallen in and out of sleep on the journey, had much less energy than he was used to for this time of morning. It was hard to resist Kento’s warmth, the sheer comfort Catoru felt in his arms, and it wasn’t until they stepped inside harsh fluorescent lights that Catoru woke up all the way again, squinting in the bright lights.
Even as a cat, his eyes were sensitive, and with a start, Catoru realized he hadn’t worn any coverings in over a day now. It had been fine in the dark, in the evening air and in Kento’s home, where the lights were dimmed for the most part, but with the morning sun and the harsh lighting of the store, Catoru found himself wishing for his shades.
Kento hummed under his breath as he wandered around the store, grabbing various boxes and looking at the labels, scanning them for information, and Catoru slowly felt himself go lax in his arms. He didn’t know if cats could get headaches, but he could feel the way his eyes wanted to shut, the exhaustion behind his gaze, a low growl of discomfort escaping his chest.
Kento paused to glance down at him, and Catoru offered him a sleepy blink before pawing at his eyes, squeezing them shut. Kento hesitated, coming to a full stop near one of the shelves and picking up Catoru, bringing him towards his face. Catoru let out a whine that escaped a pitiful mewl, and Kento frowned, though it was one filled with worry.
“Is everything alright?” he asked, searching Catoru’s face for the source of his discomfort, tucking him in his elbow and running a hand across him. “Are you hurt?” He grazed Catoru’s back, across his legs, underneath his belly, and Catoru meowed, pawing again at his eyes. Kento frowned. “Is it possible for cats to have sensitive eyes?” A quick glance around the store before his gaze landed on an employee and he headed over. “They’re so pretty, I should’ve guessed they were light-sensitive,” he said, giving Catoru a comforting pat on his head.
Catoru didn’t register what Kento and the worker at the store talked about, too busy burrowing his face into Kento’s chest and squeezing his eyes shut. The pressure did a little to alleviate the pain, and Gojo, even as a cat, didn’t enjoy having to rely on others for his weakness. It wasn’t anything major, the occasional migraine that struck when he wasn’t careful and strained his eyes too much, but it was enough to impact his life. Typically, he was able to draw his blackout curtains and bury himself beneath his dark sheets, blocking out all light and attempting to sleep it off. On rare occasions, he’d have to ask Tsumiki or Megumi to stop by and drop off food, though it was less him asking and more one or the other insisting on bringing food and Gojo not wanting to let the effort go to waste.
He hadn’t had anyone to take care of him during one in a long time, and it felt discomforting having to rely on Kento to shield his gaze as he walked around the store. Catoru let out another quiet mewl, and Kento’s hand in his fur was delicate as he held him close, nuzzling against the top of his head with his cheek.
“I’m sorry,” Kento murmured, and Catoru wanted to reassure him that he hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d been a perfect owner in fact, enough that Catoru was starting to get attached, reluctant to leave. Kento came to a stop somewhere else in the store, and after a few short seconds, Kento lowered himself onto the ground and set Catoru in his legs. Catoru let out a teeny meow, and in the seconds that followed, Kento was wrapping a short strip of cloth around his head, knotting it gently beneath his ears.
Catoru’s ears flickered at the brush of Kento’s hand, and the relief he felt when his senses were no longer fighting against harsh lights was immediate. Catoru meowed, louder this time, a weighted sigh, and Kento tugged him close before standing again. The sound of ruffling emanated from Kento’s hands, but with the blindfold covering his eyes, it was a little less overstimulating, and Kento let out his own sigh of relief as Catoru relaxed in his hold, no longer batting at his eyes. Catoru meowed again, rubbing his cheek against Kento’s chest, and it rumbled with a deep laugh.
“Next time I’ll do more research,” he said, and then they were moving again, though Catoru was nowhere near concerned with where they were headed. “I should’ve done it earlier,” Kento said, apology clear in his voice, as if he’d committed a grave sin rather than an easy mistake. Catoru wanted to reassure him, and maybe when he was human again he would, would tell Kento all about how wonderful of an owner was, how much his gentleness was appreciated. Kento sighed. “Are you still hungry?”
Catoru meowed, nodding his head, his ears perking up just a little, and Kento released a quiet chuckle.
“Alright, then,” he said, cradling Catoru close to his chest as the doorbell to the store rang with his exit. “I’ll make some food for you.”