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His name is Snake. It’s short for Solid Snake, and he is an insatiably curious, ridiculously fluffy black kitten who probably couldn’t stealth his way out of a paper bag. Uplifted from the streets of Lastation, he now lives a comfortable life in its Basilicom, with plenty of food, lots of hiding places, and as many toys as he could have ever wanted.
(Noire named him Snake for his love of boxes. It’s not unusual for a cat, but this way Snake can get involved in cosplay, too. Maybe he could even become an internet sensation! Except that would be embarrassing.)
Neptune first discovers him when she swings by for a quick visit. Nepgear and Uni have already run off together, talking about whatever little sisters talk about; it’s perhaps a bit too quiet, as Noire finishes up the last of her work and Neptune snacks. Thankfully, the silence is broken by a tiny mew, somewhere by Neptune’s foot.
She looks down to see a kitty with a crooked bandana around his head, and a little shirt on, pawing towards the pudding cup. Her eyebrows nearly shoot up into her hairline in surprise.
“Whaaa-?! Noire has a kitty?!” Neptune says, to a resounding groan from the other end of the room. Noire ducks her head; she’s pretty sure her blush is enough heat for the entire city.
“Sh-shut up!”
“So you do have a soft side!” The unintelligible stammering from the other end of the room continues. “Well, I guess it does fit… Lonely Heart and Lonely Cat, together at last, huh? Hey, kitty, want some pudding?”
“Don’t feed Snake that!” Noire stalks over to collect her cat, but Neptune reaches for him instead, scooping him easily into her lap. (He’s warm, and snuggly, and smells a little bit like Noire and a little bit like cat. It’s nice.) Snake mews, not used to the big new human trying to get friendly with him, and wriggles around. “Geez, Neptune, you’re scaring him!”
“Naww, Snakey likes me!” She loosens her grip, and sure enough, Snake stays in Neptune’s lap – though his eyes are fixed on the pudding cup that’s so close. Noire wiggles a ribbon in front of him, though, and he latches onto it, pawing and biting. It’s enough of a distraction that Noire can sneak the pudding cup out of Neptune’s reach and onto a top shelf. “Aw, he just wants some pudding—“
“You don’t know what’s in that, or if he’ll get sick! Next thing you know, he’ll be asking for sweets all the time. Geez.” Snake’s turned to batting at the plugs on Neptune’s hoodie now, giving little growls and rolling back and forth. Noire rolls her eyes, instead, and mutters: “That cat’s just like you, isn’t he…”
“But admit it: that’s why you like him, don’t you?”
Noire flushes so deep she practically goes purple, and Neptune knows the answer is ‘yes.’