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There’s a cat on the UA campus.
It’s a stray, no doubt. It’s been there for months now. Nedzu hates the thing, and for a couple weeks after its first appearance, he tries to get it to go away. Cats are bad news for him and he’s definitely not a fan. He can still feel the marks from the last time a cat got its claws into his tail.
Those efforts to make it go away never worked, though, and the cat remains. After two weeks, Nedzu stops trying.
It’s impossible to ignore it. But he does it anyways.
Two weeks after its first appearance, he came across the cat eating out of a bowl. Not just any bowl. It’d be different if it were some takeaway container or one of the plastic bowls anyone could find in any staff room. No, this was a ceramic pet bowl, filled with dry cat food on one side and water on the other, and clearly ‘belonging to’ this stray cat.
He knew right then what was going on, and he also knew that he couldn’t stop it. Not just physically, but morally. And so, Nedzu told the grounds security team to stop looking and pick up all the cage traps they’d set out for the pesky little beast.
It’s impossible to totally ignore it, but Nedzu pretends he doesn’t see it. He never mentions it again. He sees it from time to time. A month passes, and then another one.
An extravagant pet bed is added to the area where the cat’s dish is, overly fancy wicker with plush cushions and even a blanket. Nedzu definitely doesn’t think that a singular outdoor pest of a cat needs all this, but he leaves it alone and doesn’t mention it.
A week later, he catches the cat scampering after a squirrel. Its grey and black fur is broken up by the white collar around its neck and Nedzu catches just enough of a look at it to identify it. He doesn’t know whether or not to be relieved that it’s not a normal cat collar—it’s a flea collar. If the mangy animal had fleas, it for sure doesn’t now. Maybe he should be grateful, given that he can easily get fleas himself, but all he does is sigh and move on.
The cat’s area, as he’s unwittingly taken to calling it, is nearby the staff dorms and hidden below an overhang. It’s outside, but tucked away enough that students don’t typically see it. Nedzu passes it almost every day, though, and every day he looks.
Toys start appearing. First there’s just a couple in the cat’s bed. Then a scratching pole shows up. Nedzu already thinks that’s overkill—the cat has the entire campus to find places to scratch—but he doesn’t do anything about it. A week later he catches the cat batting around a ball with a bell inside. Another new addition. Luckily, it never pays any attention to him, unlike most cats who see him as nothing more than prey.
Nedzu still doesn’t say anything. He lets it go on. Months pass. Every week or so, the cat gets something new, whether it’s a toy, a new bed, or something else. The area fills up quick, but Nedzu still stays quiet. He’s sure that others have noticed. There’s no doubt about that. It’d almost impossible to miss now, with its proximity to the staff dorms and the collection of colorful things that have been placed there.
He lets it go on—Until winter comes.
Nedzu really isn’t expecting anything out of the norm. The little beast has enough fur to keep it warm through the winter and it’s not like it has to hunt for food. It’s already being spoiled and, in Nedzu’s opinion, is probably a little rounder than most stray cats are.
The days get shorter and colder. Unlike the cat, Nedzu doesn’t have enough fur to keep him warm in the winter. Temperatures drop lower and lower and Nedzu starts trying to keep his time outside as short as possible. Even with heavy winter coats, it’s still cold.
He still looks into the cat’s area every day, though, and on the morning before it’s supposed to snow for the first time that year, Nedzu sees something that finally forces him to break his silence. In the cat’s area is a bunch of building materials—wood, nails, tools, all still in the packaging. Right on the front of it is a picture of the finished product. A wooden cat house. A house for the cat to stay in during the winter.
Finally, Nedzu’s had enough.
He runs to the school as fast as he can, and goes directly to the person at the center of all this. The cause.
“I am not letting you build that cat a house on this campus.”
Aizawa stares down at him from where he’s sitting at his desk. Nedzu crosses his arms. His tail twitches behind his back as he holds Aizawa’s gaze. Even from down here, he cat see the little cat-shaped figurines he’s bought Aizawa over the years, all organized and lined up on his desk. There’d never been any doubt in Nedzu’s mind as to who was at the center of all this. There’s only one person in this entire school who would spoil a cat like that and Nedzu had known it from the moment he’d seen that food bowl.
“It’s cold and—”
“No,” Nedzu cuts Aizawa off with a sigh. As much as he doesn’t want to do this, he really has no choice, so Nedzu swallows his pride and forces it, “Just take the damn cat inside.”
He doesn’t miss the way Aizawa’s dark eyes go wide.
Nedzu does have a choice, actually, and he knows that.
No pets in the dorms are the rules, unless in specific circumstances. Aizawa never asked for special consideration—Nedzu has no doubt in his mind that he would’ve immediately given him permission if asked, though. It’s strange that the man with the biggest affinity for cats Nedzu’s ever seen has never owned one, but he’s well aware that it’s because of how busy he gets.
He very well could have just told Aizawa to cut it out with the cat. Aizawa’s never really gone against him. Nedzu’s known him since he was young and much different than the man he is now. If he told Aizawa to stop, he would’ve, but he has no intention of doing that, either.
He hates to admit it, but...
He has a very soft spot for Aizawa.
“Make sure it doesn’t make a mess inside,” Nedzu continues with a shake of his head. “And bring all that stuff inside.”
He leaves it at that, not waiting for a response. He walks away from Aizawa’s desk and into his own office and starts the day. With the cat problem finally solved, at least he won’t have to keep passing by that area anymore.
Though, the trade-off is that he’ll have to deal with it in the staff dorms where Nedzu also lived, but...
He has confidence Aizawa will take good care of it.
Later that night, Nedzu goes back to the staff dorms late and arrives to a group of teachers shushing him and pointing as soon as he gets through the door, every one of them telling him to look.
Stretched out on one of the couches is Aizawa, fast asleep, with that grey and black cat in his arms.
The cat raises its head and looks at Nedzu, and then goes right back to sleep, leaving him be.