Stretching, you find yourself laying in someone else's bed. not in that way, though, you're a cat. You were probably picked up in the middle of the night and moved into someone's house. Weird, but not that bad. Better than sleeping outside in this weather.

You feel some rough, calloused hands gently scratch along your back and head, a man picking you up and cradling you in a blanket as he notices the slight shiver.

"Morning, kitty-cat."

Fukuzawa remains stoic, but his joy is evident as he scratches under your chin.