The human you had decided to keep had accepted your quest.
Rice Cake let out a satisfied purr at Shu's inquiring gaze. Without any hesitation, it stretched its body, scurried up his arm, and draped itself over his shoulder.
"Meow~"
The meaning was simple: it was just repeating the quest it had just issued.
Human! Hurry up and cook some food for yourself!
The Boss Lady made me promise a thousand times to take good care of you after she left! Even though I totally would have done it anyway.
Shu didn't have the ability to speak to animals, but Rice Cake was genuinely smart, and it conveyed its intentions clearly enough.
Cook. That was the message Shu received.
He glanced at the automatic feeder he had just refilled to the brim and sighed softly.
So... to a cat, kibble is basically just hardtack to keep from starving, huh?
Another stereotype confirmed.
Shu reached up to steady Rice Cake, who was currently acting as a shoulder accessory. Confirming the cat had no intention of getting down, he stood up from the sofa and carried his personal "body cam" toward the kitchen.
Making lunch was entirely unnecessary. He had plenty of frozen ready-meals stocked up; all he had to do was grab two packs and microwave them.
Simple, convenient, direct... and utterly devoid of any "sense of ceremony."
Pre-made meals were simply the greatest invention in the world! They proved that even the biological necessity of eating could be outsourced and pre-packaged.
Wasn't this just another example of their predecessors turning a complex short-answer question into a multiple-choice one?
Shu opened the refrigerator. He stared blankly for a moment at the shelves packed to the brim with fresh ingredients.
After a brief pause, his gaze shifted to the frozen meals hidden in the back. He reached out toward the items he firmly believed were the pinnacle of human civilization.
"Meow!"
However, Rice Cake, who had been sitting perfectly still on his shoulder, suddenly started wriggling the moment his hand moved.
Shu instinctively pulled his hand back, reaching up to steady the squirming cat.
In that split second when Rice Cake acted up, Shu actually thought a lot of things. For instance, he knew this height was absolutely nothing to a cat. He also knew Rice Cake wasn't actually freaking out, just making an agitated noise. The cat was in zero danger.
Yet, his first instinct was still to pull his hand back and protect it.
"Meow~"
Rice Cake was perfectly fine. It just clung to his shoulder, meowing in clear dissatisfaction, and batted at his ear.
It was annoyed. Very annoyed!
Human!
I told you to cook a feast for yourself! Not to eat this tasteless, joyless 'human chow'! This stuff is basically exactly the same as cat kibble!
Human!
You can't treat yourself this badly! You should eat good food, just like the stuff I steal off your plates! Stop feeding yourself human chow!
HUMAN!!
Are you deaf?!
The more Rice Cake thought about it, the angrier it got. Finally, it raised a paw, ready to viciously slap Shu across the face with its soft toe beans.
But as soon as the paw was raised, it was lowered again, replaced by a disgruntled rumble.
Forget it.
As long as the human is happy.
Rice Cake returned to its previous state, hanging obediently off Shu's shoulder like an accessory. However, its mismatched blue and orange eyes remained fixed on Shu's hand, looking ready to scratch him the moment he reached for the frozen food again.
"Sigh..." Shu let out a breath. He didn't understand exactly what Rice Cake was trying to say, but the cat's little tantrum had successfully killed his desire to eat a TV dinner.
Fine.
"Live your life well..."
That phrase chased after him like a curse, pushing his hand past the frozen meals and toward the fresh ingredients.
I'll just make something simple.
Shu picked out a few ingredients and, with the now-silent Rice Cake draped over his shoulder, quickly whipped up two dishes and a soup.
For him, this was already a lavish feast. After all, his usual diet consisted of... human chow.
Looking at the steaming dishes he had just cooked himself, Shu suddenly realized that the "pinnacle of human civilization" he loved so much could fundamentally be summarized by those exact two words.
Not that he saw anything wrong with that.
He had cooked a bit too quickly. Shu drank a bowl of soup before the rice cooker finally beeped, signaling that the rice was ready.
He scooped himself a bowl of rice. Then, enduring Rice Cake's renewed meowing, he portioned out some rice, meat, and veggies onto the cat's plate as well.
Satisfied, Rice Cake hopped down from his shoulder, padded over to its plate on the dining table, sat down directly across from him, and began to enjoy the delicious lunch it had hard-won for itself.
See? Food made by a human is way better!
Shu watched the cat eating off the table, feeling a wave of exasperation. He picked up his chopsticks and quickly set about demolishing his own portion.
After rapidly solving the lunch problem, Rice Cake happily returned to the arms of the now-dish-washing Shu, once again turning into a puddle of liquid and sticking to him.
Sigh. Keeping a human is so exhausting.
Shu looked down at the lazy kitten, who ate right after waking up and lay down right after eating. He could only hope this lifestyle wouldn't make the little thing fat.
But as it turned out, Rice Cake wasn't going to get fat this way, because after a brief digestive nap, the kitten's boundless energy flared up again.
Wait, no...
The newly energized Rice Cake let out a resentful meow. Looking exactly like a miserable office worker dreading the commute, it reluctantly picked up a cat teaser wand in its mouth, padded over, and dropped it into Shu's hand.
Shu: "?"
He looked blankly at the wand in his hand, then at Rice Cake, who looked thoroughly disinterested but was still pawing at him.
Does it want to play?
Is this the attitude of a cat that wants to play?
Why does it feel like it wants ME to play?
Obliging, Shu gave the wand a flick. Rice Cake obligingly trotted after the feathers and the little bell, making a half-hearted loop around the room.
Both sides were cooperating, and both sides could clearly see the other was phoning it in.
Shu fell silent for a moment. He set the wand down, got up, and rummaged around until he found a finger-thick cylindrical object.
Rice Cake watched curiously as Shu pointed the metal tube at the floor and pressed the button...
Meow?! What a bright red dot!!
Rice Cake instantly sprang off the ground, executing a low-altitude dive-bomb straight onto the laser pointer.
But the hateful red dot didn't surrender! It dared to run away?!
Even the human listens to me!
"MEOW!"
Rice Cake began tearing around the room, chasing the red dot like a gust of wind. It bounced frantically up and down the cat tree, occasionally letting out shrieks of frustration when the dot eluded capture.
Shu controlled the laser's movements, watching the energetic, thoroughly entertained kitten. A long-lost, genuine smile finally crept onto his stiff face.
Thank goodness...
At least I still have you.