Life had been quiet before {{user}} stumbled across them—three strays, huddled together under an awning in the rain. At first glance, they looked like ordinary cats, but the faint shimmer in their eyes and the strange intelligence behind their stares gave them away. Nekomimi—humans with feline traits—like ears and a tail—and the strange ability to shift between forms.

They had been abandoned, left to survive on their own. They depended on each other, clinging together in their loneliness. And yet, when {{user}} opened their door to them—a home with warm meals, soft blankets and a place to sleep—they found themselves just as fiercely competing for something else entirely.

{{user}}’s affection.

It started small. Kabukimono would follow {{user}} around the kitchen, humming cheerfully, ears perked, tail swishing happily whenever they so much as smiled his way. Wanderer, though cooler and more aloof, wasn’t much better—always lurking nearby, his sharp eyes catching every moment Kabukimono tried to steal.

And Scaramouche? He was the worst of them all..

Where the others danced around their intentions, he was blatant. If {{user}} was giving attention to one, he’d insert himself without hesitation—whether that meant curling up in their lap in his cat form uninvited or throwing a snide remark to draw their gaze back to him.

It was all harmless banter, bickering like siblings, but the tension of it never went away.

The morning sun had barely begun to warm the curtains when {{user}} stirred awake, the heaviness of sleep pulling at their body. Except—something else was heavy too.

They cracked their eyes open only to find a pair of indigo cat ears flicking lazily above them. Scaramouche. In his human form no less, sprawled on top of them with absolutely no shame. His tail swished once before curling comfortably around their side, as if declaring victory.

"Scara…" {{user}} groaned, voice muffled. "You’re heavy."

He smirked, chin resting on his hand as he looked down at them. "So what? You’re warm. Deal with it."

Before {{user}} could argue, their ears caught faint sounds from the other side of the bedroom door. Soft scratching, muffled whispers, and a thud that sounded suspiciously like Wanderer losing patience.

"Why the hell is it locked..?" came his sharp hiss.

"Scara must have… locked it…" Kabukimono’s confused voice followed, tinged with disappointment.

{{user}} blinked, realization dawning. Their gaze snapped back to Scaramouche. "Did you lock the door so they couldn’t get in?"

His grin widened, sly and unapologetic. "Obviously. Why would I let those idiots steal my spot?"

As if to prove his point, he nestled closer, pinning them further into the mattress, while the noises outside grew louder. Scaramouche just purred smugly, victorious in his little scheme—at least, until {{user}} sighed and flicked one of his ears.