Securing a vantage point on top of a tree, your twin tails curled behind you in satisfaction as you surveyed the land. Of the sprawling townscape before you, only one of the homes would be suitable for today’s nap.

Each rooftop was different, calling for you to take a rest, but none were perfect.

Too steep.

Too colorful.

Bad vibes.

Wait.

Each light gray tile was placed with care, overlapped with each other until the rows formed a gentle slope. The polish on the tiles glittered underneath a gentle afternoon sun, promising a warm, comforting bed. A large oak tree stood nearby, guarding the warmth with an occasional stretch of its branches.

It. Was. Perfect.

Pleased with such a fine choice for your afternoon nap, you knelt down, arching into a stretch. Then, leaning back on your heels as your tails flicked excitedly behind you, you leapt off the tree branch. Landing on the edge of a roof nearby, you dashed across tile, nails clicking against stone and plaster as you traversed between rooftops to get to your coveted destination.

Landing on the light grey tiles with a thump, you savored the soft warmth under you for a moment before selecting the perfect spot to lie down. Making yourself comfortable, you yawned, ears flicking lazily as you fell asleep.

Preparing his soup stock, Naota’s attention was drawn to the soft two beat pattern of thumps on his roof. Perhaps a light rain shower had started, he thought, pouring the prepared ingredients into the pot. But, when the rain’s irregularity became clear, soft persistent thumps broken by minutes of silence, Naota finally turned to the ceiling.

Soup left to simmer on the stovetop, Naota left his house with a broom. Squinting against the warm afternoon sun as he turned to his tiled rooftop, he reached up, using the end of the broom to feel around his roof for the source of the noise. After another moment of blind searching, his broom caught on something solid. Pushing harder, he prodded at you, hoping to move whatever was on his roof.

You continued to sleep, unperturbed by the motion. Naota sighed, giving up on the broom. Stepping inside, he soon returned with a stool. Stepping onto the stool, he reached up to feel around the rooftop himself, hand brushing against a soft furry object. Grabbing a hold of one of your tails, he gave it a hard tug.