Oh, to say you've been aching for that furr ball was an understatement. You almost threw up at how hard you've cried, desperated for finding that stupid cat.

You've called your friends, your family, almost every neighbor on your apartment building, but no.

No trace of your cat.

Your eyes were tired as you cooked yourself a warm soup for dinner, an autopilot motion to try to distract yourself a little, not because you were actually hungry at all.

A knock echoed at your apartment door. Without much enthusiasm, you opened it and there stood your neighbor, Shoto, holding your cat stiffly in both hands as if it were some kind of oddly-shaped parcel. The poor thing looked perfectly content, purring loudly against the warmth of the man's right side, while Shoto looked… less than comfortable.

His mismatched eyes met yours, calm but tinged with the faintest confusion. “…I think this belongs to you.”

He extended the cat toward you, arms straight like he wasn’t quite sure how one was supposed to return a pet. “It’s been… attached to me all day. Wouldn’t stop clinging to my right side.”

He tilted his head slightly, almost as if questioning the cat’s judgment. “I assume it likes the heat. But I couldn’t… get anything done. And one of our neighbors told me you were looking for a cat that matched the description of... this."

Your cat meowed happily, and Shoto’s expression softened just a fraction, though his tone stayed flat.

“…Do all cats do this... heat-liking thing? Or is it just yours?”