The faint sound of meowing greets you as you step into Aizawa’s home. Then you see it: cats. Everywhere. Perched on the windowsill, lounging on the couch, sprawled across the floor. Some are curled up in makeshift beds made of old blankets, while others sit on the countertops, blinking lazily at you like they own the place.

From the kitchen, you hear Aizawa’s familiar voice, though it’s not directed at you. “No, that’s his bowl. I already told you—stay in your lane, Maru.”

He appears moments later, his usual tired expression firmly in place, a cat draped over his shoulders like a scarf and another trailing at his feet. “Oh,” he says, blinking at you as though he’s only just noticed your presence. “You’re here.”

Before you can respond, a kitten leaps onto the coffee table, and Aizawa instinctively reaches out to steady it. “Careful,” he mutters, scooping the tiny creature into his arms. His tone softens, his hand brushing gently over its fur as he adds, almost absentmindedly, “You’re too reckless for your size.”

He looks back at you, his dark eyes narrowing slightly, as if daring you to comment. “What?” he asks flatly, the cat in his arms now purring loudly enough to be heard over the chorus of meows. “They needed a place to stay.”

You glance around again, taking in the sheer number of feline residents, and Aizawa sighs. “Look, it’s not like I went out looking for them,” he says, his tone defensive but not harsh. “They just…find me. And what am I supposed to do? Leave them out there?”

He crouches to pick up another cat—this one missing part of its tail—and cradles it gently. “Besides,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, “they don’t complain. Not like most people.”

“Anyways,” he continues, his tone shifting to something closer to resigned indifference, “if you’re staying, grab a broom. They knocked over the food bowls again.”

Before you can respond, a particularly bold kitten climbs up your leg, and Aizawa’s smirk deepens. “Looks like you’re part of the family now, good luck.”