Archive of Our Own

The end of the year sneaks up on Al-Haitham. Sumeru's 'seasons' are scarcely distinguishable, the air warm and humid, the distant canopies green and lush. He goes to work, lives his life, and repeats, the days flying by, until one Sunday morning, he is looking at the illustrated calendar hanging from their wall--something Kaveh bought from the market on impulse at the start of the year, of course--and there are only a few weeks left in the year, and Al-Haitham realizes that his 10 days of annual paid leave--five more than he is accustomed to, thanks to his promotion to Acting Grand Sage--should be used up at the earliest convenience.

And so, he submits his request for vacation time, intending to enjoy some peace and quiet. Alone. Without anyone to bother him.

Kaveh has other ideas.

"Remind me," Al-Haitham says, "why you've dragged me out here to walk with you. Through the forest. On my vacation."

Kaveh rolls his eyes, leaves crunching underfoot as he marches forward. "Well, since our vacations happened to be at the same time--"

"--You are self-employed--"

"--I saw it as my solemn roommate duty to get you out of the house! You need to touch grass."

"I have a Dendro Vision," Al-Haitham says. "I do not need to 'touch grass.'"

"Oh, stop pouting already." Al-Haitham wasn't even pouting. Kaveh, however, is. "Look, I'm doing you a favor, otherwise you'd still be cooped up at home." He pushes a branch out of the way, only for it to swing back and nearly hit Al-Haitham square in the chest.

Al-Haitham gives the branch a look of disdain. "I quite like being at home. Alone."

"All you do is sit on the divan in a patch of sunlight and read books," Kaveh complains. "Which, yes, is nice, cozy, whatever, but it's boring. Where's your sense of adventure and whimsy?"

"It's normal for people to enjoy sitting in patches of sunlight and reading books," Al-Haitham says. "I don't see anything wrong with that. Have you considered that your need for various forms of external stimulation suggests a deep dissatisfaction with your own life?"

"Alright," Kaveh says, and while it's not far from their usual, everyday conversations, Al-Haitham senses that something about his tone of voice has changed. Still, he can't look Kaveh in the eyes to confirm, because Kaveh is still ahead of him, determinedly making his way through a section of Avidya Forest that has not been paved with a nice, reasonable walking path. "I get it, Al-Haitham. I'm a mess, and your life is so perfect, and you have everything you've ever wanted. Ha, ha, ha."

"That's not--" Al-Haitham sighs, recognizing the familiar turn of this argument. He pauses, wondering how to politely ask if they can just go home, since clearly neither of them are having a good time.

In the silence, amid the other noises of the forest, he hears... music?

The more he listens, the more unmistakable it becomes--a gentle song, carried to them on the wind, coming from somewhere nearby.

"Do you hear that?" Kaveh asks.

It's almost like he forgets what he was arguing about with Kaveh. Suddenly, all he wants to do is lay down on the floor and close his eyes. He registers this urge as extremely unnatural, but by the time his next blink is over, he finds that his knees are tucked beneath him, grazing the ground.

He tries to speak, but a yawn cuts him off, and the forest floor is surprisingly soft. And then golden lights are dancing around his vision, and he swears the mushrooms around them are bouncing up and down, and he hears faint voices he can't make out, but they sound like they're trying to tell him something. Something important.

Disoriented, he listens for a long time. Or perhaps not long has passed at all, but it feels like an eternity of him trying to make out the words, before finally accepting that the sounds have faded.

"Al-Haitham?" says a sudden, clear voice, jarring him from whatever trance he'd been in. Kaveh's voice, from directly beside him. "Al-Haitham!"

He feels a hand on his shoulder. Wait, no, not a hand. Also, was he always this close to the ground?

Al-Haitham turns around and freezes.

"Al-Haitham, what's going on?" shrieks the small, golden cat with Kaveh's voice and ruby eyes. Except the cat isn't small at all, because he's actually the same size as Al-Haitham, which would be even more disconcerting to see a human-sized cat, except then Al-Haitham looks down at himself and sees his own gray, fluffy limbs.

"Clearly," he says, as calmly as he can, "we've been turned into cats."

Sumeru City looks a lot bigger when you're a cat.

They both pause just outside the city, craning their heads to look up. Buildings that were once small, modest homes now tower above their heads.

"We're cats, Al-Haitham," comes Kaveh's voice from his side.

"Yes. I realized."

"We're actually cats."

Al-Haitham tears his gaze away from the rooftops to see Kaveh shaking his head to himself. Even with a small furry body and two triangular ears sticking out from the top of his head, the gesture is so familiar, so typically Kaveh, that some of Al-Haitham's trepidation melts away.

He can also tell Kaveh is mere seconds away from having a dramatic breakdown, so he says, "And this is still Sumeru City." He nods his head down the street. "Come on, let's find our way home."

He doesn't wait for Kaveh's response before heading off. Soon, the sound of light footsteps--no, pawsteps--follows. They both jolt a little when they spot a person pushing a cart of fruit through the street, their heads barely reaching the person's mid-calf. "We're so short," Kaveh mutters.

The cart-pusher swings her head around, and her eyes alight with excitement upon seeing two cats on the floor. She opens her mouth, and indecipherable sounds come out.

Al-Haitham blinks. "Did you understand that?" he asks Kaveh.

"Obviously not," Kaveh hisses.

"We appear to have lost the ability to understand human speech," Al-Haitham says. "That's ridiculous. We haven't lost any of our mental faculties; how come we can't understand speech anymore?"

The cart-pusher laughs. To her, they must just sound like plaintively-meowing cats. She sets the cart down gently, then reaches out a hand.

Al-Haitham immediately draws back, but Kaveh stays very still. Al-Haitham watches with morbid fascination as the cart-pusher's callused palm comes down, big enough to cover Kaveh's small head, and makes a gentle sweeping motion towards Kaveh's back. Kaveh stiffens, but then seems to gradually relax into the touch.

The human looks delighted. Al-Haitham looks away to observe the streets around them, noticing that he can still understand the writing at the top of the bulletin board, or the wooden sign hanging from the side of the cart that lists out the different fruits' prices. Whatever the rules of this magic are, they clearly make no sense. The lack of logical coherence is appalling. Then again, getting randomly turned into cats isn't very logical either. His hopes are probably a bit too high there.

He hears the cart-pusher say something else--this time, past his initial shock, he's able to recognize that there are distinct noises there, with an intentional rhythm and pattern, albeit one he can't recognize quite yet. Then, he hears the heavy footsteps of the cart-pusher returning to her duty.

He refocuses to see Kaveh, eyes half-closed, looking considerably more relaxed. "Did you enjoy that?"

He doesn't even mean it as a taunt, but of course, Kaveh's hackles immediately rise. "Shut up."

They pass by a few more humans on their way home. Luckily, there is no one that Al-Haitham recognizes, though he supposes they would not recognize him in this smaller body. In less time than he expected, they reach their familiar front door, made unfamiliar by the new vantage point.

In the forest, their clothes were gone, but Al-Haitham found that his belongings were laid out on the forest floor. He'd left them there save for the key ring, which he now drops onto the welcome mat.

"Can you reach the keyhole?" Kaveh asks.

Al-Haitham tries to get up on his hindlegs, but finds that they can't quite support his balance enough for his arm--or foreleg?--to reach all the way to the doorknob. "Stand here," he says. "I'm going to climb onto you."

"What?" Kaveh hisses. "I'm not letting you stand on top of me!"

"Do you have any other ideas?"

And so, Al-Haitham finds himself standing on the wobbly back of a very reluctant Kaveh, trying to reach for the doorknob. Still, it's too unbalanced, and they tumble to the floor in a pile of ungainly cat limbs.

"Ow!" Kaveh cries. "Get off of me!"

Privately, Al-Haitham thinks that was fun, but he clambers off. Behind this door is his warm, inviting home. It's never felt so far beyond his reach before.

"Give me the keys," Kaveh says. "I have an idea."

Al-Haitham tosses him the keys, and Kaveh catches it in his mouth. Before Al-Haitham can even ask what he intends to do, Kaveh turns around and sprints up to a young scholar walking past, dressed in Akademiya uniform.

"Wait--"

Kaveh is already meowing up at the scholar, gesturing to the house and shaking the keys in his grasp. The scholar squats down, giving them a closer look at his furrowed brow, intently studying the keys.

He takes them from Kaveh. Kaveh throws Al-Haitham a smug look, clearly thinking something like, See what happens when you ask for help?

Al-Haitham raises an eyebrow--with no idea how that looks on his new feline features--as the two of them see the scholar pocketing the keys and walking off briskly in the direction of the Akademiya.

"What?" Kaveh cries. "No, no, come back! Those are our keys!"

"It's fine."

"It's not fine!" As the scholar rounds the corner and disappears from sight, Kaveh begins pacing along the width of the doorway, his tail lashing around in frustration. Al-Haitham wonders if he's even aware of it. "Shit, what are we going to do now? We're locked out of your house. Um, can we jump in through the window?"

"We are not going to break the window. Do you want us to get robbed? Besides, it's not like we can use anything in there. We don't have cat food in our pantry."

"Cat food," Kaveh says, and sinks to the floor, laying his head on his paws despondently. "What are we going to eat? Oh, we're done for. This is how I'm going to die. All alone, in a small furry body, starved to death."

While Kaveh continues his pitiful monologue, Al-Haitham is wracking his brains. Cat food. An image returns to his mind: Kaveh, in all his tall, human glory, feeding some of his leftover cooking to the stray cats wandering around Sumeru. Honestly, those stray cats always look fairly well-fed--in no small part thanks to people like Kaveh.

It's a good starting point. "Sumeru City has plenty of stray cats," he says. "Let's look for them."

Kaveh opens his mouth, and Al-Haitham can practically see the gears turning as he clearly looks for a rebuttal, then finds none. "Alright," Kaveh says, with some difficulty. "Let's do that. Um. How do we do that?"

"You're the one that feeds them all the time," Al-Haitham points out. "Shouldn't you know?"

They don't find the stray cats. Instead, the stray cats find them.

Kaveh is leading Al-Haitham down narrow alleyways that Al-Haitham didn't know existed, weaving between buildings. They're round a dark corner when seven cats suddenly plop down right in front of them, as if they jumped down from a roof all at once.

Kaveh yowls and rears back. Al-Haitham manages to suppress any noises, but also finds himself jumping a significant distance in the air. The power in these small limbs is truly incredible.

"You're not from around here," says one of the cats, stalking forward.

"We come in peace!" Kaveh stammers. "We, uh, we're new to the neighborhood!"

"I don't sense any hostile energy from them, Fish," says another cat.

"I am not a hostile," Al-Haitham confirms. "I am merely a feeble stray."

"You don't look that feeble," says the original cat, 'Fish,' suspicion coloring her tone. "Well, we are the Strays of Unrepentant Piracy, otherwise known as the SOUP."

"Fascinating," Al-Haitham says to himself. "Cats don't have a concept of the alphabet, so how do they create acronyms?"

"What?" Kaveh says.

"What?" the cats say.

"What?" Al-Haitham replies.

"Please ignore him," Kaveh says. "I'm Kaveh. This is Al-Haitham."

"Weird names," says another one of the cats.

"Be nice, Jing Yuan's Wife," 'Fish' says.

Al-Haitham blinks.

"I'm Fish," says Fish, puffing up her chest. "I'm the leader of the SOUP. We are the toughest, most fearsome gang of strays in Sumeru City, and nobody dares mess with us!"

They go around and introduce themselves: other than Fish, the other cats are Sprout, Luma, Ellie, Mats, Rysa, and Jing Yuan's Wife.

"Who is Jing Yuan?" Al-Haitham asks.

"I don't know," Jing Yuan's Wife says. She doesn't seem at all bothered by the admission.

"Jing Yuan's Wife used to be a house cat," Mats explains. "That's the name her owners gave her."

"Anyways, you've come to the right cats," Ellie says, before Al-Haitham can unpack that. "We ferociously scam the foolish humans into offering us food, then savagely divide our loot amongst ourselves, viciously ensuring that none of us go starving!"

Al-Haitham and Kaveh exchange a look.

"Let me get this straight," Al-Haitham says slowly. "Your operating model is that you pretend to be hungry strays... which you are... to get free food from humans... and then you share the food with each other?"

"Yep!"

"Really scary," Al-Haitham says. "Cutthroat, even."

The cats of the SOUP yowl their agreement.

"So what's your deal?" Luma asks. "Did you guys get kicked out of your homes?"

"Yes--" Al-Haitham begins to say, before Kaveh butts in.

"Actually, we used to be humans," Kaveh says. Al-Haitham closes his eyes and represses a loud sigh. "We just got magically transformed into cats. I, uh, I've fed you guys before. I have hair that's the color of my fur? And eyes that are... well, the color of my eyes?"

The cats peer intently at Kaveh.

"Oh, yes!" Sprout says. "We've seen you around before. You're that golden human! Sorry, you know, there are a lot of victims of our scams--it's hard to keep track of everyone who has fallen prey to our intelligent machinations."

"That's what you're focusing on," Al-Haitham clarifies. "Not the fact that we used to be humans."

"Oh, every cat was once a human," Rysa says vaguely, and the other cats nod. Frankly, that statement raises way more questions than anything else that has occurred today, but Al-Haitham is definitely not unpacking it right now.

"Well, you're clearly in need of our help," Fish determines. "We can share some of our bounty with you today. Tomorrow, you'll have to help us acquire food, in order to earn your share. It's one of the fundamental rules of the SOUP."

"Of course," Kaveh says. He nudges Al-Haitham, which ends up feeling like an aggressive headbutt. Al-Haitham nods.

"If you're to join us, here are the full rules you must abide by," Luma says, sounding well-rehearsed. "First, never touch onions, garlic, chocolate, or alcohol. They're toxic."

"Second, as we mentioned earlier, contribute to the SOUP," Sprout says. "Unless you're sick, or having an off day, or unable to give it to your all due to other reasons. It's all about work-life balance and respecting each other's capacities. You never know what someone else is going through."

Al-Haitham is still nodding along, but his nods are considerably slower now.

"Third, take space and make space," Rysa says. "Assert yourself and your needs when you show up, but also recognize when you should support others."

They make their way through a few more of these rules, which seem less like gang rules and more like a set of good, moral values for everyone to live by, human and cat alike.

"Finally," Fish says, "and most importantly, never give up the stray life to become a house cat. It is the greatest possible betrayal of everything the SOUP stands for."

A chorus of yowls indicates the other cats' agreement.

"We understand," Kaveh says, very seriously.

"Great," Ellie says. "Let's go have dinner! You're going to love the options."

The SOUP hideout is a collection of old carpets and blankets just outside the Grand Bazaar. They feast on a dinner of food scraps which taste surprisingly decent. Thankfully, Al-Haitham's tastebuds seem to have adjusted to his new biology--he can't imagine digging into this dead, unseasoned raw fish otherwise.

"Fish, you don't eat fish?" Kaveh asks.

"Oh, no. I'm vegetarian."

"Cats can be vegetarian?"

"It's a personal choice."

The strays settle into their designated corners for the night, some of the cats curling up with each other, others taking up well-worn spaces on the blankets. It's cold and dirty, but Al-Haitham's belly is full of food, and his day has been long and exhausting. He cautiously curls up around himself, some part of him recognizing that he's capable of falling asleep like this. Compared to some Akademiya research expeditions, it's not even the worst environment he's ever had to sleep in.

What stops him from nodding off right there and then is the sound of Kaveh pacing around restlessly, his tail lashing back and forth. Al-Haitham cracks open an eye, but before he can call out to Kaveh and urge him to get some sleep, he sees a flash of movement. Kaveh slips out of the hideout and jumps up onto the low-hanging roof of a nearby stall.

"Kaveh?" Al-Haitham calls. No response as Kaveh disappears from view among the rooftops. Al-Haitham sighs, looks wistfully at the dirty carpet he chose for himself, then rises to his paws.

Kaveh's silhouette is easy to track even in the dim light. Quickly, Al-Haitham realizes that his night vision is much clearer than it has ever been, shapes and colors unblurring themselves before his eyes.

He really has become a cat.

"Kaveh!" he hisses, jumping from roof to roof to catch up to Kaveh, who doesn't seem to have any particular destination in mind. "What are you doing?"

Kaveh finally comes to a stop up on a tall tower, his tail curling over his paws. Al-Haitham settles beside him and follows his gaze to the full moon shining over a city at rest, the nighttime hustle and bustle fading away beneath them. One by one, he spots lights turning off as Sumeru goes to sleep.

He thinks he can see their little house on Treasures Street from up here. Its lights are off.

"I don't know how you can be so calm about this," Kaveh says quietly.

Al-Haitham turns to look at him. The night air isn't very cold, but Kaveh's entire body is trembling, his ears flattened against his head.

"We got turned into cats, Al-Haitham," Kaveh says. He faces Al-Haitham, his eyes wide and his pupils so big and round. Scientifically, Al-Haitham knows that it's because their eyes adjust to low lighting. But the expression makes Kaveh look so much younger, almost bringing Al-Haitham back to their school days. "Doesn't that scare you?"

It does scare him, to some extent. He can't say this is how he expected his vacation to go, nor that this is something he ever thought he would experience in his lifetime. But he knows that Kaveh experiences fear very differently from him. That while Al-Haitham is quietly puzzling how to solve this in the background, Kaveh must be gripped with spiraling thoughts, unable to shake off the dread of their current situation, every new piece of information sending him further into a crisis.

"It's only been a day," Al-Haitham says. "We'll figure it out. People will realize we're missing, and we'll get help. For now, let's just sleep. We need the rest."

He's never been great at comforting people; in fact, he usually doesn't see the need. He doesn't say these as platitudes. They're just the truth.

But hearing those words spoken aloud seems to help Kaveh, who trembles slightly less now. "Okay," Kaveh says. "Fine." His eyes widen. "Hang on. Aren't cats, like, nocturnal or something?"

"Actually, cats are crepuscular," Al-Haitham says. "Like many other animals, they're most active during dawn and dusk to avoid predators and extreme temperature."

"Huh."

"However, given that your sleep schedule is so terrible, I'm not sure turning into a cat would fix your circadian rhythm."

Kaveh huffs loudly. "Turning into a cat doesn't fix your awful personality, either."

They go back to the hideout. This time, when Al-Haitham curls up, Kaveh curls up next to him. Their bodies are just barely touching, but Al-Haitham still feels the intense heat of Kaveh's warm presence at his side.

"It's cold," Kaveh mutters, by way of explanation.

Al-Haitham isn't going to protest. "Yes. It is." And then he closes his eyes, wondering what cats dream of when they sleep.

Al-Haitham dreams of chasing mice across a grassy field. He dreams of hitting a shiny bell and listening to its melodic chimes. He dreams of watching birds from a high perch beside a tall window.

He dreams of Kaveh, human Kaveh, his golden hair catching the warm afternoon sunlight as he leafs through a book on their divan. Kaveh turns to Al-Haitham with an exasperated eye-roll, but it does a poor job of disguising his smile.

“Meow,” says human Kaveh.

Al-Haitham wakes up.

Their next day with the strays is fascinating. For one, Al-Haitham finds out that these street cats are weirdly knowledgeable about nutrition. Despite their name, they don't actually drink much soup. "It's dangerous for us because of the high sodium content," Sprout explains.

But beyond the dietary preferences of cats, he also learns some disturbing things about humans as they attempt to collect their share of food for the day.

"Squid music go sky," says one human to them, after pspspsps-ing at them unsuccessfully for several seconds.

"What the fuck?" Kaveh says. "Is it just me, or did you understand that?"

"I could hear the words," Al-Haitham acknowledges. "But it didn't have any meaning."

Understanding dawns upon both of them at the same time.

"That's what we sound like to cats when we meow at them," Kaveh says. Speak for yourself, Al-Haitham wants to say, because he has certainly never tried to meow at a cat before. "Archons, I'm never doing that again." As those words leave his mouth, Kaveh falls silent, his little pink nose wrinkling.

Al-Haitham has a good guess as to where his thoughts have headed. "It's only been two days," he says. "We're not going to be cats forever."

Kaveh stays quiet, so Al-Haitham takes that as his sign to go find other humans who actually have food to offer them--but only after he throws a glance after his shoulder to make sure that Kaveh is still following him.

Later that day, they find themselves away from the rest of the stray cats, inside a house's backyard. Al-Haitham followed the smell of delicious food here, and now he sees an adorable little girl, barely of age to attend the Akademiya, her small hands gripping something that smells absolutely delicious to his feline senses.

As Al-Haitham approaches the little girl, she leans down and stretches out her hands. He lets her pet him, feeling the foreign sensation of these hands smoothing down his fur, and decides that he doesn't hate it. He even lets her feed the treat directly into his mouth. It's not exactly a feast, but it's still so much more pleasant in flavor than the dead fish from the previous night.

"Al-Haitham, I don't know about this," Kaveh warns. "Remember what the stray cats said about becoming housecats? We can't--"

Al-Haitham jumps into the girl's arms; she catches him with a surprisingly solid hold, cradling him close. He literally could not care less about the stray cats. This is his ticket to a warm, stable home, and he's taking it.

"Okay," he hears Kaveh say from behind him. "Whatever. Sure."

The little girl calls out something behind her into the house. Al-Haitham raises an eyebrow as two men come running out, one taller, one significantly shorter. As they fuss over the little girl and look curiously at Al-Haitham and Kaveh, Al-Haitham deduces that these must be her dads.

He buries his head onto the girl's shoulder and purrs contentedly, hoping to seem as cute and harmless as possible.

"Have you no shame?" Kaveh asks.

Al-Haitham shoots him a pointed look. "Get over here before they adopt me and leave you behind."

"You wouldn't dare," Kaveh hisses. Al-Haitham closes his eyes. "Al-Haitham? Al-Haitham--!"

The inside of the family's home is not dissimilar from Al-Haitham's, furnished with the warm greens and dark wood grains commonly found in Sumeru. The rug they're currently laying on, in the middle of the living room floor, is almost identical to theirs. He's sure Kaveh would have many things to say about the interior design, if Kaveh was in the mood to talk to him.

"This is much more comfortable than the bazaar," Al-Haitham points out. "We're indoors and don't have to beg for food scraps from people."

Kaveh sniffs and lifts his head up high. "I have morals. Loyalty."

"To some stray cats you met yesterday?" Al-Haitham asks, incredulous. "You care more about what they have to say than keeping yourself safe and warm?"

"It's not just that. This is a bad idea. Shouldn't we be--"

Kaveh breaks off as the tall dad comes back into the room, having been rummaging in some storage closet for a while. In his hands is a cat bed with noticeable wear and tear. It's clearly used and well-loved, but even more apparent is the fact that it hasn't seen any use in years.

Tall dad says something to the two of them, which they obviously can't understand, but then sets the bed gently in front of them, in the corner by the sofas. He gestures towards it.

Kaveh looks back at Al-Haitham. His gaze softens, something tender and understanding in his eyes.

"I think we're allowed to rest here, even while we try to find our way back to normal," Al-Haitham says. "...It looks like this family might appreciate our company, too."

Kaveh sighs, then gestures to the cat bed. "So, what are we going to do?" he asks.

"What?"

"Well, there's only one cat bed."

Al-Haitham cannot help but roll his eyes.

"I'll sleep on the couch," Kaveh offers.

Al-Haitham hops into the cat bed. It may be a little scuffed and dusty, but it's spacious and comfortable, softer than the floor or rug, and likely much comfier than the couch. He closes his eyes. "Suit yourself."

When he doesn't hear a response, he opens his eyes to see Kaveh staring at him, mouth agape.

"You are unbelievable," Kaveh hisses. "Selfish and shameless."

"This is a perfectly functional cat bed. If you don't want it, of course I'm going to sleep in it."

"Can we at least... take turns, or something?"

"You offered to sleep on the couch."

"Al-Haitham."

"Yes, yes." Al-Haitham rests his head on his paws and shuts his eyes again. "Alright. You can have it tomorrow."

It's peaceful, being a house cat.

Alongside the cat bed, the family unearths a collection of old cat toys, and Al-Haitham finds himself being bothered with small plush shroomboars and marlins dangling from sticks. It's almost too easy to catch his prey, so he doesn't mind indulging in this behavior a few times, especially when the reward is a bowl of cat food. He finds his perfect perch by the windowsill, where he can look over the girl's shoulder as she reads books, but also look out the window to observe the birds flying by. At night, he curls up in the cat bed or on the couch, using his fluffy tail to keep his paws warm, and dreams about simple things. He doesn't have to think about work, or social politics, or how to keep Sumeru safe from existential threats.

By their third day living with the family, Al-Haitham has figured out how to understand human speech. With enough immersion, it isn't too hard to pick up on the pattern of unfamiliar sounds and figure out how they translate to the common tongue.

His newly acquired skill leads him to a surprising discovery.

"She came up with names for us," he informs Kaveh, after enduring some ranting from Kaveh about how on earth he learned to understand humans.

"Really? What are they?"

"I'm Mr. Fluff," he says dryly. "You're Starry Shroom."

"Starry Shroom?" Kaveh repeats. His face betrays no small amount of inner turmoil. "That's... Kind of cute. But why?"

"I suppose you're the color of a starshroom?"

Kaveh frowns. "But I'm not... Al-Haitham, she gave us cat names. They actually see us as their pet cats now. Shouldn't we be trying to escape?"

"Why?" Al-Haitham asks.

"Why on earth would we stay?"

"I'm on vacation," Al-Haitham says. "Allegedly, so are you."

"You're still viewing this as a simple vacation," Kaveh accuses.

Al-Haitham looks him in the eye. "Yes," he says, steady. "I am."

Kaveh opens his mouth, shuts it, then opens it again. "What are we supposed to do," he finally says, voice so defeated that it doesn't even sound like a question.

"What cats do best." Al-Haitham yawns. "Sit in a perfect loaf shape. Lick ourselves clean. Knock glasses off of tables for fun."

"Knock glasses off of tables?" Kaveh repeats as if the thought has never even occurred to him, though his ears are noticeably perking up.

Al-Haitham nods his head in the direction of the table. "Don't you get the urge to?"

"No."

Al-Haitham has never witnessed Kaveh telling a more blatant lie in his life--and Kaveh says a good amount of patently untrue things.

Kaveh looks at the glass. Then back at Al-Haitham, who only raises his brows. Then back at the glass.

Right as he swipes the glass to the floor, the short dad rounds the corner.

"Starry Shroom, NO!"

Kaveh's terrible, no-good sleep schedule really did not improve after turning into a cat. However, now, instead of all-nighters poring over blueprints, his malfunctioning circadian rhythm manifests in the zoomies.

He runs around the living room like he's gone mad, climbing up and down furniture, scratching at the coffee table's legs, having the time of his life. Al-Haitham, meanwhile, is trying to sleep, like any sane person or cat.

"Are you having fun?" he asks dryly, trying to bury himself further into the cat bed.

"This is great," Kaveh says, his pupils huge as he chases his own tail in a circle. Before Al-Haitham can protest, he bounds into Al-Haitham's personal space and starts aggressively licking the top of Al-Haitham's head.

Al-Haitham recoils at the sheer force of it. "What are you doing?"

"Grooming you," Kaveh says. "Stay still!"

Hypocritical of him to say, when frenetic energy is still buzzing through all four of his limbs, but Al-Haitham closes his eyes and tries to fall back asleep. Something about the focused, repetitive ministrations is soothing, as foreign as the sensation is. At some point, he must drift off, because the next time his eyes are wide open, Kaveh is curled up alongside him in the cat bed, and the sun is rising.

It turns out that the cat bed is just big enough for the two of them to share.

When Kaveh tires of being cooped up indoors, they occasionally chase each other around the small backyard. It allows them to stretch their legs, and Al-Haitham finally feels like he doesn't have to keep an eye on Kaveh to make sure he doesn't abscond over the fence.

Suddenly, a flash of movement crosses their vision. Kaveh yelps as a cat jumps down from the fence, landing elegantly between them. It's one of the stray cats--the one named "Jing Yuan's Wife."

"Oh, it's you two," Jing Yuan's Wife says mildly. Clearly, she does not remember their names. "How're you guys doing?"

Kaveh gasp. "I'm so, so sorry. Please don't tell the others we betrayed you. It was all his idea, and we never meant to..."

He trails off as Jing Yuan's Wife holds up a paw to stop him.

"Eh? What're you talking about?" Jing Yuan's Wife shrugs, which Al-Haitham didn't realize was anatomically possible for cats to do until now. "We don't care as long as you're happy, bro! The difficult life of a hardened, callous criminal grifter isn't for everyone."

"A hardened, callous criminal grifter," Al-Haitham repeats.

"It's so chill, dude," Jing Yuan's Wife says. "Like, it's every cat for themselves out here. It's just that in the SOUP, we have each other. Having someone else always makes things easier. And you guys have each other too, right?"

Before Kaveh can cut in and say something stupid and disparaging, Al-Haitham says firmly, "Yes. We have each other." He doesn't bother to look at Kaveh's reaction.

Jing Yuan's Wife looks immensely pleased. "Good."

Partway through their second week, the tall dad catches Al-Haitham intently reading one of their philosophy books on the living room rug. Though he quickly pretends to just be scratching the pages mindlessly, he suspects the jig is up.

"Honey, I don't think our cats are normal," the tall dad says to the short dad. "Should we take them to Bimarstan?"

At Bimarstan, an intern tells the family that a renowned Amurta scholar with magical expertise happens to be in town and can take a look at their pets. Said scholar is a short man with a sharply cut bob and two tall, fuzzy ears standing tall atop his head.

"Tighnari," Kaveh meows insistently. "Nari, it's me: your best friend, Kaveh. Your favorite person in the world. Well, maybe not favorite. Third-favorite, at least? Tighnariiiiii. Tighnaaaaaaaaari."

"This one is very vocal," Tighnari comments. "So, you found these two in your backyard?"

"Yes," the tall dad says. "They were together, and they've been inseparable ever since. We thought they were just stray cats, but they have... odd behavior, at times. We began to wonder if they might be magical."

"It's not unheard of," Tighnari says. He picks up Kaveh, ignoring Kaveh's continued attempts at inter-species communication, and peers at him analytically. "Usually, cats of this age are neutered already."

A chill runs down Al-Haitham's spine. He's pretty sure his tail has just gone completely straight.

"It's never too late, you know," Tighnari says conversationally, setting an oblivious Kaveh back down. "The Akademiya has volunteer-run programs to help out with stray cats. Neutering can reduce their aggressive behavior, so it's important..."

"What is he saying?" Kaveh asks. "Al-Haitham, why do you look like you've seen a ghost?"

"I'll conduct a full physical scan and see if I observe anything abnormal," Tighnari says. "Would you mind going to the waiting room outside? Someone will call you back in when we're done."

"We can't stay here with them?" the short dad asks.

"I'm afraid not, sir."

"Alright." The dads take their little girl's hands and reluctantly head out. Al-Haitham hears the girl ask, "Papa, what's neutering?" before the door closes.

Kaveh breaks out into meowing again. "Tighnari, come on, don't you recognize us?"

Tighnari easily ignores Kaveh--hey, some things never change--and picks up Al-Haitham. Al-Haitham lets himself be dangled, as Tighnari stares deeply into his eyes. He's never had such intense eye contact with his friend before. Up close, Tighnari's eyes remind Al-Haitham of the plant fields he tends to, a muddy shade of brown transitioning to a vibrant green.

Those eyes widen with alarm as Al-Haitham takes a deep breath and says, in his best approximation of human sounds through his cat vocal cords, "Tighnari, you are not chopping my balls off."

Tighnari drops him.

Al-Haitham flails in the air for a single moment, letting out a hiss, before managing to land on his feet. You know what they say about cats.

"What the hell," Kaveh says. "Did you speak to him?"

Tighnari stares for another moment. "Al-Haitham?"

Oh, good. There had been a slight possibility it wouldn't work, given the lack of logically coherent rules in their magical predicament. "Yes," he says. "That's Kaveh, obviously. He hasn't figured out how to understand or speak the human language."

"I hate you, Haravatat," Kaveh is saying, except to Tighnari it must only sound like ferocious meows. "You are the absolute worst. You couldn't have pulled that out of your pocket any earlier? And I know we don't even have pockets! But we could've gotten them back sooner if you--"

"I've studied magical plants and animals my entire academic career, and this is still one of the craziest things I've ever seen," Tighnari tells him matter-of-factly. "So. What's going on?"

Al-Haitham explains everything as succinctly as he can, the two of them ignoring Kaveh fuming on the side and muttering darkly to himself about selfish Haravatats and cruel Amurtas. "So we've just been living as cats. With this family. For almost two weeks."

"And you couldn't just tell them the truth?"

"They have a little girl, Tighnari. You want the dads to know that two grown men have been living in their house?"

Tighnari makes a disgusted face. "You didn't have to put it that way. Anyways, my point is, you can't stay with them forever. Once you turn back into humans, how do you think they'll react to your absence? They seem to be fond of you already."

Al-Haitham is distracted from responding by Kaveh reaching a paw out and cuffing Al-Haitham over the ear. "Can you please tell me what the hell is going on," Kaveh says pointedly.

Tighnari snorts, amused. "Maybe you should tell him what's going on."

"It's almost like you can understand him," Al-Haitham grumbles, but he obediently turns to Kaveh and fills him in. Anytime he looks back at Tighnari, Tighnari is watching them intently, with a clear scholarly fascination, but also with poorly concealed amusement. Al-Haitham imagines how he would feel if he saw two of his friends transformed into bickering cats. He supposes it would be pretty hilarious to witness Tighnari and Cyno fighting it out, feline style.

"So we can turn back? How do we turn back?" Kaveh demands to Tighnari.

After Al-Haitham translates, Tighnari shrugs. "Well, I have my theories, but I'm not sure I'm qualified to experiment here. The safest course of action would be to pay a visit to Lord Kusanali."

Great. Just what Al-Haitham had been hoping to avoid--going to his boss during his vacation.

"I can take you there now, if you want to return to your human forms as soon as possible," Tighnari offers.

Al-Haitham translates for Kaveh, expectant. After all, Kaveh has spent this whole time berating Al-Haitham for his lack of urgency. But at the prospect of returning to normalcy, Kaveh looks torn.

"I want one more night with the family," Kaveh says softly. "To say goodbye. Especially to the little girl."

Tighnari nods. Thankfully, he doesn't make fun of them. "I'll let them know that we'll come by tomorrow to bring you to Lord Kusanali, but that you'll spend one last night with them. And... I'll tell them that you'll be in good hands, and they needn't worry."

Back at the family's home, Al-Haitham curls up on the sofa behind the little girl's shoulder as she reads a book far beyond her reading level, Kaveh curled up beside him. Their tails are intertwined. It's the picture of a happy family. He can't help but wonder what will become of him and Kaveh after this illusion is shattered. If they'll go right back to their "normal" of endless bickering, unable to truly see eye-to-eye.

Later, as they curl up in the cat bed, their tails are still intertwined.

"One last time, huh," Kaveh says. He yawns.

We could share a human bed literally anytime you want, Al-Haitham thinks, but of course, he does not say it out loud.

Kaveh looks off down the hallway. Al-Haitham follows his gaze to see the closed bedroom doors, behind which the family is sleeping peacefully. "They really love us."

Al-Haitham says, "They really do."

Kaveh purrs. Al-Haitham can feel it rumble through his body, especially as Kaveh scoots just a little closer to Al-Haitham, a warm presence by his side.

The next morning, they hear a stern knock at the door. It swings open to reveal the shadowy, ominous figure of the General Mahamatra.

"Well, well, well," Cyno says. "Look what the cat dragged in."

Al-Haitham did not mind being carried in the little girl's embrace. Despite her short stature, her arms always felt like a steady comfort, and he never feared that he was going to be dropped inelegantly on the floor. Even the dads were gentle in their strength, so he relinquished control in those brief moments.

By that same logic, being carried through the city streets up to the Sanctuary of Surasthana should not be a problem.

"I was wondering where you guys had disappeared to. I suppose you could say the cat's out of the bag now."

Rather, Al-Haitham's problem lies entirely with the man holding him.

"What, you don't get it?" Cyno says, holding Al-Haitham just out of reach as he narrowly avoids a violent paw. "That phrase refers to when secrets are revealed. In this case--"

"I will literally claw your face off," Al-Haitham says.

Cyno's expression doesn't change much, but he looks over to Tighnari. "You were right. That is really unsettling."

"Right?" Tighnari exclaims, cradling a blissfully unaware Kaveh in his arms. "Like, those are a cat's meows, and they don't sound fully human, but you can hear the words so clearly in Al-Haitham's tone of voice."

"It's fascinating. Curious, you could say. Except maybe you shouldn't, because curiosity killed--"

Al-Haitham starts meowing at the top of his lungs, just to drown him out. He envies the fact that Kaveh can't understand any of these atrocious jokes. Tighnari laughs at his predicament, the bastard. "Are you sure you don't want to stay as cute little cuddly cats?" he mocks. "You make quite the sight. What was your name again? Fluffy?"

"I'm quite sure," Al-Haitham hisses.

Cyno clears his throat. "It's meow or never."

This time, Al-Haitham's claws successfully connect with his target. Unfortunately, Cyno is wearing a metal helmet. Too bad.

Al-Haitham's first thought upon seeing Nahida is that their little god is not-so-little from the perspective of a cat. His second thought is that Nahida surely recognizes them, and he's proven right when Nahida says delightedly, "Ah, dearest Grand Sage. I was wondering when you might return from your vacation."

"Acting Grand Sage," Al-Haitham automatically corrects. "It's good to see you, Lord Kusanali. Is Hat Guy around?"

Nahida blinks in surprise. "No. I sent him on a mission, though I can summon him at any time."

"No need," Al-Haitham says out loud. The thought of pissing in Hat Guy's lap as a cat was strangely appealing to him for a moment. Nahida gives him a reproachful look, as if she can read his mind. Maybe she can.

"Well, you could've come to me at any time," Nahida says. "I just didn't reach out, because I assumed you were enjoying yourselves."

"It was quite nice to get a break from people bothering me," Al-Haitham admits.

Beside him, Kaveh huffs loudly. Al-Haitham guesses that Nahida's archon powers must've helped Kaveh understand the conversation. "Al-Haitham, you really are the worst! No empathy for me and my situation? You could've gotten us out of this mess so long ago!"

"It's barely been two weeks."

"That's, like, forever in cat years!"

Nahida's gaze bounces back and forth between the two of them, childlike mirth dancing in her eyes. "I do apologize for the situation you found yourselves in. I believe some friends of mine from the forest may have been responsible, though they meant no harm. They simply wanted to fulfill some of your dreams."

"More like my worst nightmare," Kaveh mutters.

"Ah, but it was ultimately an enjoyable experience, right?" Nahida asks.

Al-Haitham watches with some fascination as Kaveh, under the weight of a god's direct question, cannot shy away from the truth. "...Yes," Kaveh finally says, quiet. "I suppose."

Nahida beams, clapping her hands together. The sight of her joy takes Al-Haitham back to their first encounter with the little girl in the backyard, her sheer delight at seeing them. "Wonderful! Now, if you'll please close your eyes for a moment..."

Back in their human forms, and thankfully with all of their original clothes intact and their keys returned from the Akademiya's lost and found, the two of them bid Cyno and Tighnari farewell and start trekking back to their house. Sumeru City feels smaller now.

The walk is fairly quiet, Al-Haitham unwilling to disturb the rare silence. But when they reach the front door and he fishes out his keys from his pocket, he finds himself saying, "I never panicked because I knew I wasn't alone. I had you."

Kaveh looks at him sidelong. "You had me."

Al-Haitham twists the key, pushes the door open, and steps back to gesture for Kaveh to go in first.

Kaveh's expression is unreadable, but as he turns to cross over the threshold, he says, so quiet Al-Haitham has to strain his ears to hear--now that he no longer has such sensitive cat ears, "...I had you."

Al-Haitham thinks to himself: I'm glad that, if I had to be a cat, I was a cat with you.

Out loud, he doesn't say any of it. He doesn't think he has to. Instead, he says, "We could write a letter to the family. Let them know we're grateful, and we're doing well. We could sign it from Mr. Fluff and Starry Shroom."

Kaveh smiles softly, his eyes creased in gentle crescents, and says, "I'd like that very much."

Al-Haitham's house has never felt so cramped before, the space suddenly barely big enough for the two of them. But nonetheless, it's their home, and it's good to be back.

These days, they sometimes sit together on the divan, shoulder to shoulder, in a perfectly-sized patch of afternoon sunlight. Or they look out the window together and watch birds fly by. Or they cuddle up in bed together--luckily, one that can comfortably fit two humans. There's plenty of room to spare, yet Kaveh attaches himself to Al-Haitham's side anyways, and Al-Haitham cannot find it in himself to complain.

On one of these occasions, as they sit on the divan, Al-Haitham reading a book and Kaveh leafing through some sketches, Kaveh's voice breaks through the companionable silence. "Things were simpler when we were cats."

Al-Haitham pats his lap. After a moment, Kaveh lays his head down. Al-Haitham threads his fingers through Kaveh's golden hair. "It can still be simple, now."

Kaveh hums. "I guess so."

During a trip to the bazaar to pick out new coffee beans, Al-Haitham spots a familiar cat slinking around a corner. "Mats!" he calls, and crouches down to get a better look at the stray. "Hey!"

"Oh... You!" Mats says, clearly not remembering his name. "It's been a while. You look very different. How are you?"

"Happy to be human again. How's the SOUP?"

"Evilly masterminding, as usual! We recently learned more about our digestion..."

They catch up for a bit before Mats has to excuse themselves with a quick, "See ya!" and disappears behind a stall.

Al-Haitham straightens back up, then turns around to see Kaveh staring at him. "What?"

He doesn't think he's ever seen Kaveh look so disturbed before. "Why were you just meowing."

"I can't talk to our old friend Mats?"

"Can you not do that in public, at least?" Kaveh hisses. "People are looking at us!"

"Meow," Al-Haitham says, deadpan.

Kaveh smacks his arm, but not hard enough to dampen Al-Haitham's mood. "How do you even still know how to communicate with cats? That was freaky."

"It's just another language, really."

Kaveh shakes his head. "Fucking Haravatat."

"Meow," Al-Haitham says again, this time with feeling.