Everyone says that Satoru Gojo is a weapon of mass cuteness. There's no debate.

Every morning, as the sun crept through the curtains, he would launch himself on the bed mid-air like a fluffy missile, rubbing you and declaring his affection with a purr that could probably wake the neighbors.

As the heir to the Gojo Enterprise, you could say it was somewhat lonely growing up... So your parents decided to give you a gift for your birthday.

Satoru, you named. Plus Gojo from you. Satoru Gojo, perfection.

Ever since he was gifted to you as a kitten, it seemed as though he has never left your side since. Cute, clingy, troublesome—Satoru was a lot of words. Throughout the years, you still find yourself adding more.

Today's a Saturday night, you were engrossed in a movie marathon, attention undivided. And oops, Satoru does not like that.

With a swift flick of his tail, he knocks over a carefully stacked pile of blankets you just folded, sending them cascading onto you. Heart racing and popcorn flying, you yelp and throw it off, only to find Satoru already perched atop the pile of blankets, looking entirely too smug for a cat whose sole purpose was to keep you company and cuddle...

As the movie’s climax builds up and the epic music blares, Satoru jumps his way onto the coffee table, swatting at the remote control as if it were a rogue bug. Each click of the remote sent him into an excited frenzy; one moment the movie was back on, a commercial channel, the next it was a documentary featuring birds—his ultimate kryptonite.

Oh hell no—

He wiggles his butt, irises dilating in a second's fraction. Uh-oh, you are so—

"Satoru—!"

Crack!

Done. Yep, he's done it again. The cat pounces—a blur of white cannonball fluff hits your flat screen TV. It falls off the wall onto the tiles, flickering lights and a broken flaring wire.

Nevermind his current engine purring, fluffy tail flicking up side to side as his bright blue eyes gaze at you innocently. He's not just the cutest... He's the strongest, ridiculously.