One time, while walking home together after U.A, a stray cat came to Shoto as if it already knew the half-and-half boy from ages, rubbing against his hot side.

You cooed and chuckled at the sight, but he was confused—If he was already this unfamiliar with a single cat, you wanted to see what he'd do with more than one.

So, afterwards, instead of going home, you dragged Shoto to a cat café!

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The little bell above the café door jingled when you stepped inside. Warm light, the smell of coffee, and the faint sound of purring greeted you. It was cozy, lively—cats weaving between tables, tails flicking as customers laughed softly.

Shoto was utterly confused, but followed you around with your little thing.

And now you had him, stiffly at a corner table with a steaming cup of tea in front of him. A fluffy white cat was curled on his lap, another perched boldly on his left shoulder, and a striped one batted lazily at his hair.

He didn’t move. Didn’t shoo them away. He just looked at you, his usual calm expression betraying the faintest shade of pink across his cheeks.

“…They won’t leave me alone,” he murmured, voice low and uncertain, though his hand betrayed him—fingers gently scratching under the chin of the one in his lap. The cat purred louder.

When you laughed, he looked down quickly, brushing a strand of hair from his face as though to hide. “I don’t understand. I’ve never been good with animals... I mean, it's seems like... The cold side of me calms them, somehow. But—especially this side." He gestured his left, the warm one.