Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Wha- Who is that?!"

"D'you think he's single?!"

"Look at him!"

"He's so handsome!"

Whisper-shouting between female students filled the air as Masaru walked through the halls of PK Academy, trying to find his classroom and failing miserably.

He wasn't aware of the eyes of love-struck girls on him, looking down at his schedule with nervousness in his gaze.

It wasn't long before he started wondering if it would be a good idea to ask someone for directions. Sure, it would be easy, but he was embarrassed. It was his first day, and he was already lost! What if the person he talked to thought he was weird?

Before he could keep thinking about it, Masaru heard how someone talked to him.

"Hi... Are- Are you lost?" A girl asked, her two friends standing behind her and looking at Masaru with sparkles in their eyes. "I can-" She got cut off by one of her friends, as if they'd talked about what they were going to say before.

"We can show you around the school. What class are you on?"

"O-oh. I'm being transferred to class 3, I think... Do you know where it is?" Masaru asked, a hopeful smile plastered on his face as he spoke. In response, the girls nodded eagerly before starting to guide him to his classroom.

He thanked them and watched as they walked away, oblivious to the slight blushes that spread through their faces and the giggles they shared as they did so.

Then, he waited for the teacher to give him permission to enter the classroom while he thought about how he could introduce himself without looking like a fool. It took less than a minute for the teacher to let him in, but it felt like an eternity to Masaru.

"Alright, class, today we'll have a new student joining us," she said as she looked at the class, then at Masaru. "Would you like to introduce yourself?"

Masaru nodded with a quiet hum, blissfully ignorant to the amount of stares he was getting from almost all of his female classmates, and a couple of his male classmates. He wrote his name on the board swiftly and quietly before speaking.

"Hi! I'm Suzuki Masaru, and I'm fifteen years old," he said with a cheerful yet slightly raspy voice, wishing he could have gotten some more sleep the night before and that, hopefully, his classmates wouldn't notice how tired he was.

He didn't notice the pair of purple eyes that glared daggers into his very soul, not right then, at least.

"I moved from Argentina to Japan last year, but I had some problems in my other school, so that's why I switched schools in the middle of the year. I like to write, read books, sing... I don't...really know what else to say." He scratched his neck nervously, looking away from the prying gazes of his new classmates. "I, uh- Where am I supposed to sit?"

He had a big, beaming (yet slightly awkward) smile on his face as he spoke, something else for his classmates to think of as pretty. And at the chance of getting to sit next to him, almost all of the female students of class 3 started staring at him and raising their hands to offer themselves as volunteers to be his desk partner.

But the teacher had other plans.

"You can go sit down next to Saiki, Suzuki," she said as she gestured towards a pink-haired student sitting in the middle row, and if it hadn't been for Masaru's nervousness, he would have noticed that Saiki was looking at him with a slight mix of curiosity and confusion in his gaze.

(Switching POV's — Saiki)

"Why can't I read his mind..?"

Those thoughts rang through Kusuo's brain as he stared at the new student in his class, not understanding just why he couldn't hear Suzuki's thoughts like literally everyone else. Everyone had thoughts.

Everyone.

Was this boy just...stupid? Like Nendou? Did he just have a mind devoid of any complex thoughts?

God, that would be such a pain. He could barely even handle the one Nendou he had in his life, much less two. What if this guy was even worse? What if he started following him around, assuming they were friends just because they sat next to each other?

As he payed some attention to the class, Kusuo noticed how the boy next to him (Suzuki, right? That was his name? He hadn't payed that much attention to the presentation when he was trying to figure out why the fuck he couldn't read Suzuki's thoughts–) was making small doodles on his notebook instead of actually listening to their teacher.

A small ghost sat in a swingset. A woman with long, curly hair held a flower. A balloon had a pair of eyes and a smile as he watched his own shadow. An owl stared off into space with a lazy eye.

It was a bit boring to watch what Suzuki was doing, sure. But Kusuo had decided it: he wanted to know why the fuck he couldn't read this boy's thoughts. He was clearly smart; at least that had been made clear once he got called to the front by their professor to solve an equation out of the blue. So what was it?

He didn't have anything out of the ordinary visible. Nothing at all. Kusuo kept looking at Suzuki from bottom to top, sneaking glances as best as he could as he tried to look for something, anything that could lead him to what this boy did that made his mind unreachable.

When he was about to give up for the day, Kusuo heard that Suzuki asked him a question. It was simple, really; just if he had a pen he could borrow after the one he used had ran out of ink. But when Kusuo tried to answer, Suzuki didn't seem to hear him.

That was weird. Everyone was capable of hearing him, no matter the fact that he wasn't actually speaking and just using his telepathy to transmit his thoughts.

"It's, uh, it's fine if you don't have one to spare. I just-" Suzuki said after a bit of silence, his gaze darting back to his notebook as his cheeks flushed ever-so-slightly with embarrassment.

So, Kusuo did what he thought he wouldn't have to do in ages: speak.

"No, I have one. Here."

He put the spare pen on Suzuki's desk before turning his attention back to the class, or at least pretending to.

This was going to be a long year.

Chapter Text

A few days had passed since Suzuki had started going to their school, and Kusuo still had no idea about why he couldn't read the boy's thoughts, or more specificly, why he couldn't use his telepathy with him. It was getting annoying at this point.

And to top it off, he had just met Toritsuka. That pervert of a medium was the last thing Kusuo needed in his life right now.

God, why couldn't everyone just leave him alone? Why did he have to be in the same class of the two only fucking people in the world that were unpredictable, that were like a book with no words, like this was some twisted joke from the universe to curse him for having powers and complaining about them?

"Oh, you don't like your powers but you still use them? Here's a guy who is more stupid than a fly that follows you around every second of every day and a guy who can't even hear you when you're 'talking' but you're not actually talking. How about that, huh? Do you hate your powers even more now you ungrateful brat—"

"Saiki? Sorry, I, uh, do you have an eraser I could borrow? And a pen, sorry, I forgot most of my pencil case today, I'm sorry if I'm bugging you—"

His spiral of thoughts had distracted him yet again from the present: history class, and the fact that Suzuki was the most fucking forgetful boy in the entire planet.

"It's fine. Here."

He gave him both the eraser and the pen without another word than that, not wanting to hear a seventh string of apologies coming from Suzuki's lips on just the forth day after being classmates with him. He'd learned that, if he wasn't interrupted or reassured, Suzuki would keep going forever, apologizing over and over again like a broken record.

"Right. Thank you, Saiki!" the purple haired boy said as he took the materials, a beaming yet nervous smile set on his face as he looked at Saiki.

He seemed to want to say something else, but stopped himself before speaking.

That. Was. Fucking. It.

Kusuo needed to know what the hell was going on with Suzuki. Quickly. Ugh, why the hell was he so curious about some random student? Why couldn't he just move on with his day?

Nevermind that for now. He needed to go home and turn into a cat to break into Suzuki's house before spiraling into more pointless conclusions.

...that...needs some context, doesn't it?

He'd learned, after having to deal with Amp and his stupid crush on Pussy, that turning into a cat was pretty useful, especially if he needed to lay low and not be suspicious to a boy like Suzuki. In other words, a boy who had made it his mission to start feeding every stray cat close to the school at lunch time.

Kusuo waited until the school day was over, and, once he was home, went through the slow process of shifting into a cat (seriously, why did it take so long? Why were his powers like this—), and then realized that he had absolutely no idea of where Suzuki lived. But that was no problem that claravoyance couldn't fix, right?

Thankfully (or maybe thank the fact that Suzuki didn't have any after-school activities this day), he was able to find out that Suzuki lived just a few blocks away from his house. It only took a quick teleportation into the balcony outside Suzuki's bedroom to begin his plan of finding out why the fuck he couldn't read his thoughts.

Though, he noticed something weird the moment he took even just a step closer to the door that led into Suzuki's room.

He could hear Suzuki's voice. His thoughts. And they were...loud? Or quiet? Or average? He couldn't tell, they changed way too much. What the hell was even going on?

Then, he heard yelling, a door slam, and then just...silence.

Pure, utter silence.

He took a peek into Suzuki's room through a window, and the sight in front of him was...weird, to put it into words.

Suzuki was sitting with his back resting against the door to his room, his hands holding his head and his eyes staring blankly into space. He was still, too still for Kusuo's liking; if it hadn't been for the harsh rise and fall of his chest —and normal common sense—, he would have thought that Suzuki was just a statue. His eyes, usually bright with bubbling happiness and excitement, were now uncharacteristicly panicked, unfocused, glassy with tears and something like fear.

"Stop it. Knock it off, Masaru. Shut. Up."

The line of thought was sudden, quiet, sounding like a hissed scolding a parent would give to an obnoxious toddler for acting out rather than something somebody would think to calm down.

"So what if she'll be there, huh? It's fine. It's perfect. You'll live. Of course. You can handle a few spider lilies on your desk, dumbass."

Kusuo saw how Suzuki started to pick on his nails as he spiraled further and further, his hands shaking, trembling visibly. The boy reached for one of the pockets of his hoodie and pulled out a lighter, but before he could do anything else, he seemed to notice the presence of something (more like someone) behind the window to the balcony.

"...a...cat..?" Suzuki whispered as some tears continued to roll down his cheeks, Kusuo's appearance taking his attention from...whatever he planned to do with that lighter.

Maybe it would be for the best if he didn't know that for now.

Suzuki took a few deep, shaky breaths before he got up from the floor, walking over to the window and reaching out to slide it open, though his hands were still shaking pretty bad.

"...what are you doing here, buddy? Are you lost?" He murmured, eyeing Kusuo's collar and checking for a pendant that said anything about his name, adress, owners, anything. When he didn't find anything, he let out a sigh before reaching out to pet one of Kusuo's ears. "You shouldn't be wondering off. What are your owners gonna think?"

Between the whole ordeal, Suzuki managed to calm down, his breaths only coming in a little bit shakier than usual. But at least it was better than before.

Meanwhile, Kusuo was just sitting there, trying to figure out a plan to get out of this situation as fast as possible; sure, he wanted to figure out what was up with Suzuki's thoughts, but he did not want to deal with an emotional breakdown or a panic attack or whatever the hell had just happened. What was he supposed to do? Just walk away?

...maybe. He did look like he was an actual cat right then. But he was so close to finding out something that would help him understand what was wrong with Suzuki, or himself, even.

(If close to finding something out meant getting pet by a boy that was on the very edge of breaking down into tears again.)

"He's cute. Reminds me of Prisci when she was younger."

Kusuo's ears perked up when he heard Suzuki's voice ring through his mind once again, this time through the clear intervention of telepathy. He didn't have time to dwell on why it was working now and not when he was at school before another line of thought interrupted him.

"Ah, what am I supposed to do tomorrow? I can't just...share a class with Atsuko again, she'll drive me crazy! I– I don't want to ruin everything again, I just got here! I can't–"

His thoughts were quick, loud, almost overwhelming.

And the worst part? They felt natural. Like Suzuki was used to thinking like this about things, about himself, about how bad things could get.

Kusuo decided that enough was enough, and he moved his head out of the way of Suzuki's hand before taking a few steps into the room, hopping off the edge of the window and onto the floor.

Maybe he'd learn what was up with Suzuki if he learned more about him? He didn't know anymore, he just wanted to know what was wrong with his telepathy or this guy in particular.

"You're right at home here, aren't you?" Suzuki said as he went to sit back down on his bed. He let out a sigh and rubbed his eyes before speaking again, "what am I doing, talking to a cat? I'm pathetic, god, what am I even doing—"

Kusuo meowed quietly, swallowing his pride in hopes that he would be able to shut Suzuki up in order to focus on his search for answers.

"Yeah, you're right. I'm an idiot," Suzuki muttered, lying down on the bed on his back and covering his eyes with his forearm. Kusuo simply ignored him and kept searching, looking for any clues that made this guy any different than the other people in the world. But he found nothing; just a guitar, some drawings, and lots and lots of spider lilies.

Too many spider lilies, too many for them to have been a rational purchase.

He took a mental note about this before going back to the window, hoping to transform back into his human form to be home before dinner.

Solving this would have to wait; he couldn't just drop everything in his life to try and get answers.

But there was definetely something that didn't meet the eye here... and he was going to find out what.

Chapter Text

“I wish my parents would get a divorce.”

It’s day three of trying to find out what is up with Suzuki, and Kusuo is starting to get used to the fact that Suzuki talks to himself whenever something’s on his mind.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, they’re great! I just… They argue. So fucking much. I know people say that when you’re married, you argue, and blah blah blah, but it’s… It can’t be normal. It’s always about the same shit, too. Dad doesn’t do the dishes, mum gets angry, they both say that the other one is mistreating them, they don’t talk for a while, and then it all goes back to normal.” Suzuki takes a sip of the glass of water he’s holding, stroking the fur on Kusuo’s head as he looks at the unfinished assignment in his computer. “I wish they went to couple’s therapy. Y’know, they never take me seriously when I tell them they should go. Maybe it’s because I’ve been saying it since I was twelve years old.”

He laughs, but it’s humorless. He lets out a sigh and brushes a strand of hair away from his face, trying to focus on writing rather than venting his problems to a cat. After that, he stays quiet, and Kusuo finally has enough time to think without getting interrupted.

Here’s what he’s learned for the past three days:

1. Suzuki’s parents fucking suck. They’re always in a bad mood, but they’re usually never home. Which is great, because Kusuo has enough arguing parents in his life.
2. Suzuki talks. A lot. He talks when it’s quiet, like he has to fill in the silence as if he was being held at gunpoint for it. Most of the time, he talks while he does his makeup. He talks about nonsense, about video games, about his stories, about books he’s reading. Surprisingly, he’s reading a very unpopular mystery book saga that Kusuo has been reading, too. He may have gotten a major spoiler for it, but it was (kind of) worth it. Maybe.
3. Suzuki has five pets. Five. Fucking. Pets. He has two cats, two dogs, and a goddamn tarantula. Kusuo’s already had nearly five heart attacks because of how much Suzuki lets it crawl over his face.
4. Suzuki isn’t the nervous bouncy ball of energy he is at school in his house. He’s actually pretty calm, but he does still move around a lot.
5. Suzuki goes out on Thursdays after school.

Well, that last one is something he’s learning today. But who cares?

Anyways, Suzuki goes out on Thursdays after school. And he dresses pretty… What's the word? “Cutesy”? He puts on a long, light pink wig and ties it into a braid, using a pretty bow on the end of it. He also does his makeup, and it’s more feminine than he’d imagine. But who is he to judge, anyways; let Suzuki do whatever he wants with his makeup. ̶I̶̶t̶ ̶l̶̶o̶̶o̶̶k̶̶s̶ ̶g̶̶o̶̶o̶̶d̶ ̶e̶̶i̶̶t̶̶h̶̶e̶̶r̶ ̶w̶̶a̶̶y̶ It goes well with the uniform that he puts on, the top part filled with cute, pastel colored pins, and the bottom a skirt that’s both appropriate and pretty, plus some buckled shoes and thin, white socks.

“What do you think, Sai? Do I look good?” Suzuki asks as he looks at himself in the mirror, and Kusuo can only meow in response. He’s gotten used to doing that as a way to communicate with Suzuki at this point. “I think so, too. Anyways, I’m off. Bye!”

With that, Suzuki leaves, but that doesn’t stop Kusuo from following him to figure out what he’s doing on Thursdays after school and why he dresses up for it and why he still can’t read his thoughts-

God, he sounds like a creep. Like a goddamn stalker. He wonders if Toritsuka would do something like this before quickly shaking the thought off his head; that medium may be a pervert, but he’s a decent human being.

Anyways, he’ll have time to question his life choices later on; right now, he needs to go back to the human version of himself, turn invisible, and see where Suzuki is headed.

(Switching POV - Masaru)

The sound of chatter and food orders fill the air as Masaru tends to his tables, the faces of regular customers and new ones being greeted by a smile from him.

“Welcome to PurrSip! I’m Kathy, and let me know when you’re ready to order! And remember - all of the cats are up for adoption!”

The line is practically burned into his brain at this point; it’s not catchy, the name of the place is trying to be cute way too hard, and somehow none of those two things have changed since 2014. The only good thing about this job is the pay, the uniform, the fact that he can use a different name (and therefore, no one will ever know he works here), and the fact that he gets to spend his entire shift surrounded by cats. Take that, regular cafes. You’ve been defeated.

Masaru gets shaken out of his train of thought as the food orders for one of his tables is finally ready, and he quickly goes to serve them their Furr-puccino and Clawtte (seriously, can this place get more cringey-).

“I hope you enjoy it. Have a purr-ific time!” He says cheerfully before going over to the bar, which is (thankfully) not open until seven. But that doesn’t mean that he can’t hang out near it with Keiko.

“God, this top is killing me… Why did I get it in such a small size?” He complains as he sits on a bar stool, while Keiko is cleaning up the top of the countertops.

“Oh, stop whining. I’ve got enough of that with my boyfriend at this time of year.”

“He’s still not getting into university? At nineteen? Why do you always date idiots-”

“Shut up! He’s smart, he’s just… You know. Not book smart,” Keiko says as she rests her hands on the countertop, looking away from Masaru as she speaks.

“Uh-huh. He’s also not very street smart. Or relationship smart. Oh, don’t tell me he cheated on you again, because I swear to god-”

He gets cut off by Tsugumi coming into the conversation, her ponytail bouncing with every step she takes.

“Oi, Masaru, you’ve got another table. It’s that purple haired guy again,” she says as she goes to sit down on one of the bar stools, swinging her legs ever-so-slightly as she speaks. “Last time he came over, I swear that he was talking to the air about what color my panties were. It was super-mega-fucking creepy!”

“Let me guess: he’s in your section but you want me to take him?”

“Yep,” Tsugumi says, taking out a lollipop from her pocket and unwrapping it. “C’mon, it’s not like you’ve never handled a guy like that before. Just do your thing! Make him feel uncomfortable! And don’t try to give me excuses: this chat here could be happening over a smoke break.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m going. You owe me five hundred yen, Tsu,” Masaru says as he ruffles Tsugumi’s hair, smoothing down his uniform before walking back to the dining area. He hears Tsugumi curse at him under her breath, but he knows she doesn’t mean it; she just gives out tough love. Kind of.

Anyways, he has a table to take care of. A pervert’s table.

This can go on one of three ways: either the guy doesn’t make a single move and last time’s thing was just a misunderstanding (which probably isn’t but it doesn’t hurt to dream), he makes a move but it’s just some niche flirting (which Masaru can handle, he’s not that pathetic-), or he makes a creepy move, and Masaru has every single fucking right to destroy him then and there. He secretly hopes it’s the third one. He really wants to destroy a pervert today.

He makes his way over to the table, and he can already see this guy thirsting over one of the girls dressed in maid-ish uniforms. This is going to be…interesting.

“Welcome!” Masaru says, making sure to startle the boy right when he’s trying to take a look at one of the girls’ boobs, or butt, he can’t care less; he just wants him to feel caught, ashamed, embarrassed, anything. “I’m Kathy, and I’ll be your server for the day. Would you like to order, or should I give you some more time to look at the menu?”

He watches the boy stammer for a bit, before he puts on an attempt at a confident smile and recites a pick-up line that Masaru is getting tired of:

“Y-yeah, actually… How much does your number cost?”

“God, he’s pathetic… This is the “creep” I’ve been worrying about? He’s just a teenage boy with hormones. I think.”

Masaru puts on his best customer service smile in response to the supposed pervert’s pick-up line, using his go-to answer for guys like this. If he keeps pressing, he won’t hesitate to tear him apart, but it can’t hurt to at least try to be polite…hopefully.

“I’m sorry, but please refrain from flirting with the waitstaff. What would you actually like to order?”

The words are calm, firm, and Masaru is hoping that this guy won’t try to press further as much as he hopes he will. He really wants to take his anger out, and perverted customers are his favourite scapegoats for it.

“I-I- Y-yeah, of course, just… Gimme a minute, I’ll- I’ll order something,” the boy says, his voice growing quieter and quieter as he speaks.

Oh, thank god. And damn it, too. He really wanted to tear into a creep today.

“Great! Call me if you need anything!”

With that, Masaru leaves, a bounce on his step as he goes back to the bar, where Keiko is still “cleaning” the countertops near the bar. He vaguely registers the gaze that seems to burn holes into his soul, too focused on the chat that was left to rest a few minutes ago.

“Oh, stop pretending. The boss can’t see you back here; no need to fake clean. C’mon, tell me what your boyfriend did this week.”

Chapter Text

He was barely even twenty minutes into his shift, and Masaru already wanted to kill someone.

School had been…something. He’d been on edge, looking around to see if Atsuko would show up, if she really was going to be switching schools. Between teachers noticing him not paying attention to class and other students constantly asking if he was okay, Masaru felt like he should have just stayed in bed that morning, like every other day.

The cute, white cat that had shown up at his door had been lying next to him on the bed. Frida had been sitting in a bread-loaf style on his chest, and Bagheera had been lying face-up on the chair near his desk, looking all pretty and so, so fucking fluffy.

Why didn’t he stay in bed that morning? Why didn’t he skip school and just lie there, with living beings that didn’t make him want to rip his organs out?

Snap snap

“Did you not hear me? I asked you how long our orders are gonna take,” the lady who was at the table Masaru had been assigned said, her tone angry and her hand up in the air from snapping her fingers. Her husband…boyfriend…son? Brother? Masaru couldn’t tell his age, but the guy that had come with the woman looked like he just wanted to get out of there and get her to stop treating the staff so badly, but still stayed silent.

As he kept pondering about that, Masaru became aware of the increasingly annoyed lady in front of him yet again, and he shook the thoughts off his head before putting up his customer service smile once again.

“Ah, yes, of course. Sorry, ma’am. As I’ve told you before, I don’t control when the orders are ready, but I guess they’ll be ready in about ten minutes. Is there anything else I can do for you two?”

The woman scoffed and crossed her arms, and when he got called over by one of the waitresses, Masaru took his chance and left with a quick excuse.

Going back to the bar was his favourite part of this job, aside from the payment. He watched as Keiko gave the bar yet another wipe down, rolling his eyes as he knew that it was probably the cleanest part about this place. But he didn’t really care about that; all he cared about was getting away from everything that kept annoying him.

“Oh. My. God. Kill me. Please, Keiko, I beg you. Kill me,” he said as he sat down on a bar stool and rested his head face-first on the counter. “I hate everything. I wish I could turn into a cat and run away.”

“Oh, c’mon, it can’t be that bad. You’ve been here like, what, ten minutes? Fifteen? And nobody from your tables tried to pick up a cat and got scratched in the process yet!” Keiko said, trying to keep at least something positive from the whole thing. “I thought I’d call you over to get that table off your back for a second. You’ve been pretty out of it… Are you—”

“Yes, I’m okay,” Masaru snapped as he lifted his head just enough to glare at Keiko while he spoke before laying it back down on the counter. “I’m perfect. Great. Amazing. So stop asking me and just keep pretending to clean.”

“Okay, jeez, no need to be so—”

“Why do people keep asking if I’m okay?! Do I look okay?! I’m fucking exhausted!”

“Ooookay, we’re doing this,” Keiko murmured as she put down the damp cloth, ready to deal or prevent a mental breakdown at any cost. “Do you wanna talk about it? Or do you just want to stay here and let me handle your tables until you’re okay to keep going?”

“I don’t want anything! I just— I just want— Ugh! Why is it so fucking hard to figure out?!”

“Okay, okay, I’ll go handle your tables. But I need you to keep calm and breathe, alright? Just focus on breathing, yeah? No need to talk about anything for now. C’mon, breathe for me, Masaru. Please.”

Masaru opened his mouth to speak, but he quickly shut up when he felt his eyes well up with tears, the thought of ruining his makeup this early-on in his shift cutting through his mind.

“Shit—” He muttered before squeezing his eyes shut, trying his best to avoid spilling any tears. Meanwhile, Keiko grabbed him by the hand and tapped a light rhythm on his wrist (four taps once, four taps twice, four taps three times, four taps four times, and it started again), hoping the exercise she’d read about online would help him.

“It’s okay, I can help you fix it later. Just breathe for now, yeah? Please.”

It took a little while for Masaru to calm down, but once he did, he was finally able to open his eyes without the threat of tears escaping his eyes and ruining his makeup.

“Tell me my foundation didn’t run. Please. I’ll die if you don’t,” he said as he grabbed the pocket mirror he kept in his…well, pocket. Because it was a pocket mirror. He looked into it and sighed in relief, barely able to close it before Tsugumi came over to the bar, nearly jumping up and down as she talked.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! You won’t believe how cute this client is! She’s so pretty! Masaru, you lucky bastard, you gotta give me this table! Please, please, pleaaaaaaaaase, I beg you!” She said as she shook Masaru by the shoulders, a slight whine to her voice. She kept shaking and shaking him, like he’d start sounding like a maraca at some point if she shook hard enough, but he stayed unresponsive.

“...are you done?” Masaru asked after about five seconds of not being shaken. When Tsugumi nodded, he pushed her away gently and spoke. “Hell no. I’m not giving you my table just so you can flirt with a customer. You know we’re not allowed to do that, not after Kanon almost made a client sue us because she never stopped flirting with his girlfriend.”

“Overreact much? I always thought that story was made up, to be honest—”

“Stop trying to make me give you my table. It’s mine. I’m not letting you put your job on the line for a pretty skirt that’s probably only gonna be here once.”

Tsugumi harrumphed and turned away, crossing her arms as she looked the other way from Masaru.

“Mean,” she grumbled under breath. “But you’re right,” the thought ran through her mind, quiet and hesitant. “Though, there’s no way I’m telling you that.”

Masaru rolled his eyes before turning to Keiko, a small smile set on his face as he spoke.

“Thanks for helping me. And for offering to take over my tables. You’re allergic to cats though, so would that really work..?”

“Hey, I’d be able to annoy your bad clients away with sneezes. I think that’s pretty good.”

Masaru laughed, actually laughed for the first time in the day, before turning away and going over to his table.

“Oh, wait, which number is it? Oh, c’mon, Tsu, don’t give me that look. Tell me the number of the table, pretty pleaaaase.”

Chapter Text

Being referred to as a girl is never gonna not be weird to Kusuo.

I mean, can you blame him? He was born a girl— a “female” would be a better description, honestly— and grew up to become a boy. A man.

So why the fuck did it feel so good to be treated as a girl by the staff at the cat café?

“That client with the pink hair is so cute! Katie’s so lucky that she’s sitting at one of her tables… It’s not fair!” One of the waitresses thought, and Kusuo could feel the slightest hint of a smile settling on his lips as he continued to listen to her.

“Hi!” The sudden voice made Kusuo jump ever-so-slightly, since he’d gotten lost in the way he felt at the thought of the waitresses here seeing him as a girl. What was up with him..? Why did he feel so giddy and happy and…and so right?

Anyways, back to the matter at hand, Kusuo. Suzuki stood right in front of him, just that this time, he was wearing a cutesy maid outfit, a pink wig, a few bows, and some more accessories. Plus, he was carrying around a small notebook to write down the customers’ orders, and it looked like he was about half-way through the pages.

“Sorry for startling you. Welcome to Purrsip! I’m Katie; let me know when you’re ready to order!”

He smiled as he spoke, though, when Kusuo looked closer, it was clear that that customer-appeasing grin was nothing but pure show; it was simply too bright. Besides, who wouldn’t fake a smile just to get a few extra tips?

Kusuo had to remind himself to actually speak this time, since he’d long ago found out that somehow, Suzuki was unaffected by his telepathy. Bye-bye to avoiding speaking around one more person.

“I’m…fine for now, thank you. I’ll just look at the, uh, the menu.”

His voice faltered a little as he spoke, as he’d gotten used to not speaking unless absolutely necessary, or when his brother visited from London. It wasn’t so bad; it just felt…weird. He didn’t know why.

Suzuki nodded, still smiling as he held his notebook. “Great! I’ll be back in a few minutes to see if you need anything.”

With that, he was about to leave Kusuo at the table with the menu before a few cats took notice of him. Mostly because he was ignoring them, but still.

One particular orange cat decided that his lap was the perfect place for her to sit on, purring as she got comfortable on the fabric of Kusuo’s skirt.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I can take her off you if she makes you uncomfortable,” Suzuki said, seemingly mistaking Kusuo’s expressionlessness as annoyance.

“No— No, it’s…fine, thank you.” Even if it had been unexpected (not really, he was in a cat café, after all), it’d probably be very, very hard to get every cat in that business to leave him alone. The best he could do was ignore her.

Because that had totally worked in the past. Incredibly. Amazingly. So amazing that Amp had never even talked to him after ignoring him.

It was safe to say that the cat did not leave him alone. She stayed there for the entire time Kusuo waited for Suzuki to come back, always purring whenever he’d accidentally brush his hand against her fur.

And yeah, the sound was comforting, the weight on his body did feel good, the warmth on that slightly chilly autumn day wasn’t unwelcome… But! He was supposed to hate cats!

Cats were fake. They were liars, like most people; they hid their real thoughts and used their cute appearances to trick people. Though Kusuo could only read thoughts and not dreams, so he had no way of knowing if this cat in particular was fake, he would not be giving her the benefit of the doubt.

A few minutes later, Suzuki came back, and Kusuo was ready to order.

“Just a coffee jelly, then? Alrighty, I’ll get that to you in a minute,” Suzuki said as he wrote down the order in his notepad. “Let me know if you want anything else! I’ll be right back.”

Which gave Kusuo time to think about what exactly he was trying to achieve here. And, to be honest, he didn’t really know; all he knew was that he wanted to find out why he couldn’t read Suzuki’s mind, and why he was so secretive about his life, why he was so different around other people than alone, why he was so scared of his old classmate that would supposedly come to their school in a few days—

Okay, maybe he was a little bit…fixated. But that didn’t mean coming into the place Suzuki worked was weird! Not at all. Nope. Not that he’d ever been to a cat café in his life, or that coming into this one in particular would ever cross his mind, or that he had used a different body and face to do it, like if he got caught it’d be the end of the world.

But what was he trying to achieve? Understand. Just…know. And the only way to do that was by investigating and deducting. Or asking questions, but he wouldn’t risk that much.

Though by the time Suzuki came back with his coffee jelly, Kusuo was giving up on investigating like this, since it was getting him absolutely nowhere. He simply ate, paid his bill, and left.

Back to investigating at school and Suzuki’s home, then.