Silver Claws, Silver Tongue | SKK

A Feline Trans(fur)mation

When Atsushi had brought a wild beast of a stray cat into the ADA, Dazai had expected many things to happen: for instance, getting his clothes clawed to shreds or suddenly being gifted with a flea infestation. But he hadn't foreseen seizing the cat around the middle, having it miraculously transform into a (spitting mad) Chuuya Nakahara--

"Get off me, asshole," Chuuya growled, tearing Dazai out of his thoughts.

He blinked down at Chuuya, who was currently pinned to the table underneath him, furiously staring everywhere except Dazai. He wore all his regular clothes (thank goodness, Dazai thought to himself, things would have gotten quite messy otherwise) and an angry scowl, his hat tipped over his eyes to hide that familiar shade of blue.

Dazai had both hands around Chuuya's waist.

Before he could properly process this information, he felt a pair of warm hands seize him around his wrists. Apparently tired of waiting for Dazai to move, Chuuya shoved him to the side and slipped around him so he wasn't pinned to the table anymore.

Dazai turned, continuing to stare in bewilderment at Chuuya. "Hold on. How'd you get to be a cat, Chuuya? I thought you would've been a dog for su--"

He was cut off as a fist connected with the side of his face, sparks of pain shooting through his head. For a moment, he saw stars, then, as he stumbled back, the world's previously-fuzzy borders slowly started coming back into view.

Collecting himself, he gingerly cupped the soon-to-be bruise and scowled at Chuuya. "Goodness, what was that for?"

"That was for you being an ass," Chuuya spat. He flipped his hat up with a flick of his hand and spun around, coat flapping at the sharp, sudden movement. Upon seeing the rest of the ADA staring open-mouthed at him, he shot them a glare, lifting a hand to gesture rudely in their direction. "What are you bundle of idiots looking at?"

"Nakahara-san . . .?" Atsushi stammered out. Dazai glanced over at him and had to stifle a laugh-- the poor kid looked as though he were about to pass out, his face chalk-white, his hands shaking so badly he was having trouble holding onto the table he was leaning against. And honestly, Dazai didn't blame him. "Y-you were the cat?"

"Good job figuring it out, kid." Chuuya rolled his eyes. "You sure are a genius, ain'tcha? Anyway, I just came here to get that ridiculous ability off me. Thanks, I guess, but you know, places to be, people to pummel. In fact," he muttered, curling his hand into a fist, "one person in particular to--"

--mrow!

All of a sudden, the entirety of the ADA was staring-- not at Chuuya Nakahara, but at a small, ginger tabby standing on the floor, who looked just as shocked as Dazai felt.

Everyone was silent for another moment-- a long moment, seemingly going on forever, and yet nobody moved so much as an inch. Holding his breath, Dazai counted as the seconds ticked by on the clock. Tick-tock one, tick-tock two, and--

". . . so he turns back into a cat if Dazai's not touching him?" The first one to recover, Kunikida sighed, placing a hand on his hip. "That's . . . inconvenient."

"My ability does have its shortcomings," Dazai admitted, shrugging airily. "I suppose I'll need to touch the ability user to fully deactivate it. Boo, what a chore."

Though his words were calm and even, carefully crafted to be so, his thoughts had very quickly grown out of control. He could feel his heartbeat pounding loudly in his ears, blood rushing hotly through his veins as winding trails of curiosity-- and, admittedly, just a little bit of excitement-- started to bloom inside of his head.