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Reigen has, for a lack of better words, found himself in a bit of a predicament.
Or rather, a predi-cat-ment.
Despite his line of work and the unexplainable magnetism he has towards unearthly, occultic things, Reigen likes to think he starts his days pretty normal for an average working class citizen.
Today, as it seems, is not like his usual, standard day.
He wakes up this morning feeling incredibly… disproportionate, in a way. Like he’s not the size he’s supposed to be. His alarm hasn’t even rung yet–it’s too early for his body to wake him up like this.
It’s when he moves to stretch and blink his bleary eyes open, finding the pillow too large under his head and his alarm too far out of reach from his hands, does he realise that he has, indeed, shrunk. Not only that, there are whiskers poking into his eyes.
In a moment of panic, Reigen leaps up the bed on all fours, eyes immediately landing on his furry paws and the small claws peeking out of them. He lets out a yelp, which instead turns into something like a distressed hiss. The jolt sends him tumbling to the floor, bringing the blanket with him where they’ve caught themselves on his claws. He struggles to get it off, fighting for his life as the thick fabric threatens to strangle him with its evil might, hearing the tear as it finally sets him free. Some part of his brain scolds him at that because now he’s got to buy a new blanket, but he shoves that part away because there are more urgent matters at hand, dammit.
He scrambles off the pile of torn blankets and dashes head first into his front door with a bang! that he’s sure his neighbours could hear. Right on cue, his head spins, vision swirling at the impact. It takes a moment to regain balance, but it gives him enough time to regulate his breathing that only now he’s realised comes in short, frantic bursts. His ribcage feels too small to contain the rapidly drumming muscle that is his heart beating.
Calm down, he tells himself, I need to calm down. There’s no need for panic. It won’t solve a thing. Reigen is not a man that can be easily distressed. He is hard to anger, slow to irritate, level-headed and unshakeable, always composed, completely in control. Even when an evil spirit hurdles itself into his direction with the intention of tearing his limbs apart. Even when a client threatens to sue his business and turn it into ruins. Even when he’s faced with the cult leader of an esper terrorist group that intends to gain reign over the world with their power.
Reigen does not panic.
He makes his way towards the bathroom, clambers up the sink, tries not to slip with an embarrassingly panicked scutter that he’s glad is witnessed only by the shampoo bottles that have otherwise seen much, much more, and observes himself in the mirror. Gone is the Reigen Arataka with his bleached hair and poorly-hidden eyebags. There, staring back at him, with all its fluffy glory, is something else that looked distinctly… feline.
His whiskers tug at the twitch of his nose.
He observes the yellow-orange fur and the contrasting white that stretches from between his eyes, over his chin, and down to his stomach, the tuft of fur sticking out of his ears, the pupils of his eyes that have narrowed into thin, vertical slits. He raises his tail, lets it swish around the air as he adjusts to the foreign feeling of the additional muscle.
“I can’t believe this,” he mutters under his breath. Or tries to, anyway. All that comes out is an indignant ‘mrrrow’.
Was he cursed? What had he done the day prior? Did he anger a client? An evil spirit? A–
Oh.
Reigen winces at the memory of yesterday when a particularly nasty spirit had gotten rather… displeased at an offhanded insult he had made. If he had known the spirit had a penchant for vengeful curses, he wouldn’t have made a remark about the terribly unfortunate state of their face.
He flicks an ear in irritation. If that spirit thinks turning him into a cat is going to humble him, it clearly doesn’t understand the kind of willpower Reigen Arataka is made of. I’m a professional, he reminds himself, tail twitching with determination. I can handle this.
He hops off the sink with minimal struggle and all the grace of a human being maneuvering in a cat’s body, marches right over to his front door with newfound confidence, furry limbs taking long, confident strides, and is met with his next challenge. His eyes narrow as he scrutinises the keyhole and handle.
Now to figure out how to open it without opposable thumbs…
*.~ ◇ ~.*
The door handle is a horrible, no good, evil thing. The keys even more so. Its evil is gifted the crescent markings of claws against the wood courtesy of yours truly. He needs to speak to the person who created doors; it should be more people-cursed-into-cats-friendly.
It’s only about half an hour later does he realise he has a window and had opened it the night prior to let the breeze in.
That was less of a struggle.
One thing he’s learnt about being a cat is that gravity does not apply to these furry creatures. Any height he jumps from, he can probably land safely on his feet. There’s a joke to be made at his expense here, something about nine lives and how his fake, quote unquote, ‘psychic’ business would benefit more from him being a cat of all things.
Still.
That does not change the fact that getting cursed into a small and practically invincible creature is any less horrible, but if anything Reigen’s always been an optimistic man that sees the brighter sides of things.
He knows he’s definitely late to work when the Spirits and Such sign comes into view and he trudges up the stairs to the office, but his current… state of being, he hopes, is enough of an excuse for his rare unpunctuality.
For a moment, he stands in front of the office’s entrance, weighing his options.
But just as he’s imagining how he’ll explain this to Serizawa without completely destroying his own credibility, the door swings open with a click and a familiar figure steps out.
There, looking as flustered and nervous as ever, is none other than Serizawa himself, worried eyes turning between his phone and ahead, looking around for–Reigen realises with a jolt–him.
“He should be here by now…” Reigen hears Serizawa mutter under his breath. That’s another advantage; heightened sense of hearing.
Alright, Reigen braces himself. This is my chance. This is going to be humiliating, but he’s got to get Serizawa’s attention somehow.
Reigen takes a deep breath, fluffs up his fur as dignifiedly as possible, and marches right over to him, giving the most authoritative “Meow!” he can muster.
Serizawa pauses for a moment, looks down, and as his eyes land on Reigen, they go wide with instant, uninhibited joy.
“Oh!” he gasps, pocketing his phone and immediately bending down with his hands resting on his knees. “Well, aren’t you the cutest little thing?”
Reigen blinks. The what?
Before he can protest, Serizawa scoops him up with all the gentleness of someone who clearly loves cats way more than he should. Reigen’s pride takes a hit, but–he has to admit–the man knows how to carry a cat. He attempts to thrash in his hold, but Serizawa’s arms are steady as they carry his weight. He turns his head about in panic and confusion. This is not how things are supposed to go.
“No collar?” Serizawa points out, holding him with an arm like a baby as his other hand reaches up and scratches him under the chin in a way that’s both humiliating and… well, annoyingly pleasant. “You must be a stray, huh? Do you want to come in with me?”
Reigen’s “Absolutely not” comes out as a bewildered “Mrrp”, and Serizawa chuckles.
“Oh, I’m taking that as a yes.” And with that, Serizawa hoists him up and bundles him in his arms, his head bumping against the man’s soft chest, holding Reigen with such care and warmth that Reigen can feel his irritation slowly fading, much to his dismay.
“I’m sure Reigen-san won’t mind if I let you in, right? He seems rather affectionate towards animals,” Serizawa says, setting him down on the floor. His lips tug up in a small smile, as if recalling a fond memory.
Reigen turns around to get his attention as soon as he can move, but Serizawa’s already making his way to the kitchen to fill a bowl with water. Reigen follows him anyway, and Serizawa nearly trips on him when he sidles up the side of his leg with a meow and an insistent rub of his head.
“Woah! Careful there.”
Reigen paws at his shoes, trying to say “It’s me! Serizawa, I’m cursed!” but instead each word comes out as some variety of ‘meow’ or ‘mew’. Serizawa chuckles with what sounds like fondness. “Aw, you adorable little thing.”
Reigen wants to die.
Serizawa kneels and looks down at him with, Reigen notes with slight embarrassment, unadulterated adoration. If he was human, that sight alone would leave him feeling like a giddy school girl noticed by her crush. But as it stands, he currently isn't one.
“What should I call you?” Serizawa wonders aloud, his fingers reaching to ruffle down his back, head tilting curiously as he examines the sway of Reigen’s tail.
“You remind me of Reigen-san a little bit… Though I’m not sure why,” he says, hand reaching up to his jaw and scratching the spot ever so softly. Reigen’s eyes close, and he has to resist the urge to purr. “It’s probably because of your yellow fur, but…” Realisation briefly flashes over Serizawa’s eyes, followed by a small, fond chuckle. “It’s that face–yes!” he says, “He makes the same adorable nose scrunch when he’s trying to concentrate. Oh!” Serizawa grins, “How’s Rei-chan? Do you like that?”
Reigen’s feline features could not even begin to encapsulate how undignified he feels. He already has a name, and it’s not some cutesy–
Serizawa’s words finally register in his brain.
…Serizawa? Thinking he’s adorable? And noticing his little quirks? Him? Serizawa? Towards him?
The little heart he feels inside his smaller ribcage expands with a flutter.
A rumble begins deep in his throat, and he pauses at the sound. He blinks. The sound doesn’t stop, growing steadily louder as Serizawa’s fingers continue their ministrations higher and traveling up behind his ear.
Is he purring?
He can’t help the way his head tilts with a twitch of his ear as he leans into Serizawa’s touch. Serizawa chuckles again, and the sound makes him feel fuzzy and warm inside.
He supposes there’s no harm in staying like this for a moment longer…
*.~ ◇ ~.*
He’s not sure how long this has gone on, and though he indulges in all the attention Serizawa gives him, Reigen is slowly growing agitated. All attempts he’s made to communicate his identity are all in vain, each one failing more miserably than the other.
Serizawa’s even given him a dish of tuna (tuna!) he’s managed to produce from who knows where and who knows how, and is currently reading his way through some light reading on curses–none of which includes how to reverse them, Reigen notes bitterly.
Just when he’s sure he’ll be living out the rest of his days as the office’s new mascot, he hears a familiar voice snickering as lime-green phantasma emerges from the window.
“Well, well, look who decided to become everyone’s favorite pet?” Dimple floats through the wall with an unmistakable smirk. “You know, I always knew you’d be good at lying around doing nothing, Reigen, but this is impressive even for you.”
Reigen shoots him a death glare, his fur bristling. He shrills a meow, bats the air where Dimple floats. Dimple doesn’t even try to dodge the furry pinwheel of his paw, just bobs around the air to mock him.
“Oh my god…” Serizawa’s eyes go wide. “Wait, Reigen-san? This is Reigen-san?!”
Reigen turns to him with a meow that speaks, “Of course it’s me, you idiot.”
Serizawa’s face immediately falls, jaw dropping as his body turns rigid.
“Ah! Reigen-san, I apologise! I didn’t– I didn’t realise that you were–” Serizawa’s hands flail about in embarrassment, face turning a noticeable tinge of pink. “D–Dimple! Can you please help lift the curse off of Reigen-san?”
Dimple hums inquisitively. “Hm? Lift the curse?” He snorts, wrapping his ghostly arms together. “I don’t know. I see potential in keeping a cat around the office. Won’t adorable, fluffy animals attract more clients?” He gestures at Reigen. “He could be our new mascot.”
Reigen lets out a loud protest in the form of a yowled meow. Serizawa looks about ready to burst into a million pieces with how red he’s turned.
“Please, Dimple-san!” Serizawa practically pleads, and Dimple’s smirk falls. His ghostly finger taps an elbow for a moment in consideration, thick lips twisted into a purse. Begrudgingly, the spirit complies with a sigh and a slump of non-existent shoulders.
“Fine, fine,” he says, floating down to Reigen. “Just let me do my thing.”
And do his thing, Dimple does. It takes a moment, but Reigen practically feels the way Dimple sucks the curse out of his body.
There’s a flash, and with a strange pop, Reigen is suddenly back in his human form, lying on his side, curled up on the ground.
“Oh thank god!” he says, rolling over. “Finally, I can get back to–”
He pauses, because Serizawa’s looking at him with guilt and, is that amusement?
“I’m sorry, Reigen-san, I– I’m really glad you’re back,” he says, clearing his throat slightly. “If I may… in my defense, you were a very cute cat.”
Reigen feels warmth creep up his cheeks in humiliation and… something else. He squawks when Dimple lets out a wheezing laugh that makes Reigen wish he were still a cat so he could swipe at him.
“Don’t– don’t laugh! That’s not funny!”
Dimple only wheezes louder.
Reigen grumbles, straightening his suit jacket and dusting himself off as he stands on slightly wobbly legs, gathering his bearings. Serizawa hovers beside him, unsure how he can help. Reigen refuses to make eye contact. “Can we please just pretend none of this ever happened?”
Dimple wipes a tear that’s escaped. Do spirits even cry? Where do the tears come from?
“Oh, I’m definitely telling Shigeo,” Dimple says.
“You are not telling Mob!”
If Mob finds out then so will the other esper kids, and if they find out…
God, none of them are ever going to let him live this down, are they?
But when his eyes meet Serizawa’s, feeling a sort of warmth spread in his chest at the fond gaze, maybe, he thinks, things aren’t so bad after all.