(Dadzawa) I'm not a cat! (Cat quirk reader)

3: Oh look! A cat!

I stood still, confused and simply...

Flabbergasted.

Did I just hear a cat talk?
Do cats talk to each other?
What about dogs? Could I hear other animals?

I stood still for a moment.

I had a quirk...

I felt like tearing up, though I didn't...
You see, the proper explanation for yet another random statement was...I was a cat... crying was hard somehow.

"Dinner!" Erasurehead called out softly. He rambled with a bowl and the orange cat ran towards him.

I looked around hesitantly, now observing where I actually was.
The hallway was small. One door led to a kitchen, with a table, but not much fitted in it. One door led to what looked like a bathroom, and one door was closed.

I walked up to the closed door. Would it be a bedroom?

Something picked me up from behind and I let out a weird cat ish scream.

"Calm down," Erasurehead said, "Aren't you hungry?"

Of course I was!
I just didn't eat stuff that was disgusting!
And stop touching me!

Erasurehead put me down on the kitchen floor and I stared at the bowl of cat food in disgust.

"I know, salmon is better." The other cat spoke.

I glanced at them.
"Do you have a name?"

"He calls me Dorothy," the cat said in between bites, "But you're not an ordinary cat, are you? You smell weird."

Weird? Maybe they smelled the rubble and smoke off of me?

"Er..." I decided to ask something else. Erasurehead had left the kitchen, so maybe this was the perfect time to talk, "How will I get out of here?"

"You're obviously injured, I think you should stay. He'll let you leave once you're healed. Though... this isn't a bad place at all. I stayed and I don't regret a thing!"

I thought about my options. I was a vigilante... fuck school, fuck home... but damn it, I couldn't give up being a vigilante! Sadly I had to say no, I wasn't going to stay here as a cat. It also seemed like a weird option. No thanks for me!

"You're gonna eat that?" Dorothy asked before they dived into the food immediately. I stepped back, a bit surprised at the rude action.

I just walked off, uninterested in more talk. My body hurt and I was tired. It wouldn't hurt to stay the night. I doubt I'd be able to open any doors or windows myself, and we were on the third floor... jumping might hurt and I didn't want to test wether I'd land on my paws.

WHAT IF I HAD NINE LIFES??

The idea brought my tail up in joy and almost did I cackle out loud, but I kept myself composed.
It was time to rest now! Not like that— I meant proper sleep so I could think more clearly before I decided to throw myself to a potential death.

I looked around. There was a bathroom. Not gonna sleep there. There was a kitchen, not gonna sleep there.
A warm bed was in my mind. Please tell me the hero had the most fluffiest, comfiest, bestest bed in the whole wide world! He was he Pro Hero, I'm sure he could afford it.

The secret door stood open a bit and I poked my head through it.
The room had a couch, a tv and... that's it. There was a closet, and some clothes on the floor.

It was basically a living room...
Talking about being minimalistic, this hero didn't even have a bedroom. What the hell?
Should I be concerned—? gasp! Is this how that old man had felt whenever I make a blunt comment? Does the old man even have a name? I felt bad for now asking now.

My mind raced, dozens of questions flying through my head. I was desperate to have myself think straight again.

The hero sat on the couch, his eyes on his phone.
He leaned back and sighed.

Tiredly I dragged myself over too the couch. It was the only real sleeping place, except for the cat basket and the yellow sleeping bag, but the couch would definitely do. My own bed wasn't much better, let's be real for a moment.

The hero looked up at me when I jumped onto the couch next to him. I inched away from him, into the corner of the couch, and curled up as small as I could.

"...I'm starting to get the idea you just hate cat food."

Finally someone figured it out! Of course I don't like that shit! I'm human!
Not that he knew I wasn't actually a cat. He'd figure it out soon enough. Or not at all if it was me deciding it.

Sleepily I yawned slightly. Closing my eyes felt nice.
The way I fell asleep felt weird... like something was off...

Who am I kidding, I Am A Cat. Should I repeat that? When am I gonna get used to it!?
Me impatient? Never.