Cat's Rule the world.... since when?!

Double Trouble

I sink into the plush chair, feeling my whole body relax after all the running and stress of the past day. The dining room is quiet now, except for the occasional clatter of silverware and murmured conversations around me. It feels strange to be sitting here, eating dessert of all things, after everything that's happened. But for now, I allow myself this one indulgence.

Well, that went better than expected.

The hypothetical conversation with Kacchan played out better than I could have hoped. I managed to drop just enough information for him to chew on without giving away everything. It's a delicate game—one I'm not used to playing—but right now, it feels like I'm ahead. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

Just when I think I'm safe to let my guard down, Kacchan stands up from his chair, leaving his own dessert untouched. I immediately tense, wondering if he's about to give me another order or lecture. Instead, he does something that catches me completely off guard.

He walks over and sets his dessert plate in front of me.

Kacchan: "Here. You earned it."

I blink at the slice of cake, then up at him, unsure what to say. Is this his way of apologizing? Or is it some kind of test? With Kacchan, you can never be sure.

Wait... What?

I cautiously pick up my fork, watching him warily, but all he does is lean against the table, crossing his arms over his chest.

Kacchan: "Listen up, Deku," he starts, his voice lower than before. "Tomorrow... you're staying in your room. No exceptions. Got it?"

I raise an eyebrow, trying to figure out his angle here. Staying in my room while something big is clearly going down? That's not happening.

Me: "Sure, sure. I'll stay in my room. No problem." I give him a casual thumbs up, trying to hide my skepticism. He narrows his eyes at me like he doesn't entirely believe me, but before he can call me out, his expression softens—just a fraction.

Kacchan: "I'm serious, Deku." He points a finger at me, his tone deadly. "Don't screw this up. I've got enough to handle without worrying about you."

Right. 

Like I'm actually going to sit still while an attack happens around me.

I finish off the last bite of cake, feeling Kacchan's eyes still on me. He's always had that effect—like he's expecting me to mess up at any moment. The truth is, I've been planning since the second I realized there's a threat to this place. Kacchan's preparing for a fight, but so am I.

Satisfied—or maybe just too preoccupied to argue further—Kacchan finally pushes off from the table.

Kacchan: "Stay put. I've got stuff to handle."

With that, he strides out of the dining room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I sit back, chewing over his words.

Stay put? 

Yeah, right.

I've got my own plans for tomorrow, and none of them involve sitting quietly in a room while everything goes down around me. There's a lot at stake, and if Kacchan thinks I'm just going to sit this out, he doesn't know me as well as he thinks.

That night, I don't sleep much. My mind is too active, processing everything I've seen and overheard since I got here. The mansion is enormous, and there are too many blind spots, too many ways for something to go wrong. If I want to help, I need to gather as much information as possible.

I wait until the house is quiet before slipping out of my room. Moving silently through the halls, I make mental notes of every exit, every guard position, and every security detail I pass. It's not hard to remain unnoticed. Most of them still see me as nothing more than a human pet—someone not worth paying attention to. And that works to my advantage.

As I make my rounds, I spot something strange. One of the guards, standing near the barracks, has a uniform that looks... off. At first glance, it's nothing obvious. But the insignia on his chest is stitched slightly differently, the patch not quite aligned with the others. It's subtle, but enough to catch my eye.

Something's not right here.

I file the detail away. It's a clue, and while I don't know what it means yet, I have a feeling it's important. The insider planning this attack is clever, but not clever enough to hide everything.

I continue gathering information as I make my way back toward my room, striking up small conversations with some of the mansion's staff. Most of it is innocuous, but I catch bits and pieces that are useful—details about security rotations, guard schedules, and weak spots in the perimeter. It's amazing how much people will tell you when they think you're not paying attention.

By the time I've circled back to my room, I have a pretty clear picture of how things are going to play out. Whoever's behind this attack is counting on the fact that the mansion's defenses aren't as strong as they seem. I'm not sure who they are yet, but I know where they're going to strike.

I grab a piece of paper and a pen, scribbling down everything I've gathered. I outline the guard with the mismatched uniform, the vulnerable points in the mansion's security, and the gaps in the patrol schedules. Kacchan needs to see this. He might be confident in his ability to protect his territory, but he doesn't know what I've seen.

There's only one person I trust to deliver this message: Kirishima. He's loyal to Kacchan, but more importantly, he's someone I know will get the job done without asking too many questions.

Once the note is finished, I seal it in an envelope and make my way toward Kirishima's quarters. It doesn't take long to find him—he's always around, doing training or making sure the guards are keeping up with their drills.

Me: "Hey, Kirishima," I call out softly, catching his attention. He turns, smiling when he sees me.

Kirishima: "Yo, Midoriya! What's up?"

I hand him the envelope, keeping my tone casual.

Me: "I need you to get this to Kacchan. It's important."

He raises an eyebrow but doesn't question me. Kirishima's the kind of guy who doesn't pry when he knows something's serious.

Kirishima: "Sure thing, man. I'll make sure it gets to him."

I watch as he walks away, the envelope clutched tightly in his hand. A strange sense of relief washes over me. I've done what I can. Now it's up to Kacchan to use the information I've gathered.

Tomorrow's going to be rough, but at least we've got a shot.

I head back to my room, trying to shake off the feeling of impending doom. It's been a long day, and tomorrow's going to be even longer. I know Kacchan's probably making his own plans right now, preparing for the fight ahead.

But I've got my own ideas. I'm not sitting this one out. Not by a long shot.