Sitting on the corner of Aizawa's desk, I flicked my tail aggressively, glaring at the stack of papers he was filling out. The man worked like a machine, barely looking up as I paced back and forth, my claws clicking softly on the desk.

How was no one understanding me? How could I—a perfectly capable, intelligent human—be reduced to this? A tiny, meowing, claw-swinging, utterly ignored furball.

I stopped pacing and turned my glare directly at Aizawa. "You know, sensei, I'm trying really hard to communicate with you, but clearly, I'm wasting my breath. Or meows."

"Mew," I said firmly, staring him down.

"Not now," he muttered, not even glancing up.

Not now? 

Oh, that was it. 

My frustration boiled over.

 If my meows weren't enough, maybe physical action would be. With a dramatic leap, I landed smack in the middle of his paperwork, scattering a few pages across the desk.

"Get off," Aizawa said, his voice flat but edged with warning.

I flopped onto the papers, sprawling dramatically. "Nope. Not until you listen."

"Mew!" I declared again, louder this time.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "You've been fed, you've been watered, and you've been played with. What do you want now?"

I glared up at him, my green eyes narrowing. "I want you to realize that I'm not just some stray cat! I'm your missing student! I'm Midoriya Izuku, the kid you're losing sleep over, and I'm right here!"

"Mew!" I yowled, trying to inject as much emotion into the sound as possible.

He sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair. "You're just being dramatic again."

Dramatic? 

DRAMATIC? 

Oh, the audacity.

 If I had fists instead of paws, I would've slammed one on the desk.

With a growl, I jumped onto his shoulder, batting at his messy hair with my paw. "Do you think a regular cat would do this? Pay attention, Aizawa!"

He reached up to pluck me off his shoulder, holding me at arm's length as though I were a particularly troublesome object. "You're lucky you're cute, or you'd be out the door by now."

Lucky I'm cute? 

That's the best you've got?

 I wiggled furiously in his grasp, letting out a series of annoyed meows that could probably be translated to something like, "Put me down and take me seriously, you sleep-deprived cryptid!"

Aizawa, of course, remained unmoved. He set me gently back on the desk, brushing fur off his black shirt. "What am I even doing? I'm having arguments with a cat now."

"Yes, because the cat is trying to tell you something important!" I meowed, stomping my tiny paws on the desk for emphasis.

"Look," Aizawa said, fixing me with a tired but stern look, "whatever it is you're trying to say, it's not getting through. So unless you magically learn how to write or speak, we're stuck in this loop."

I froze, his words sinking in. 

Write? 

Of course! 

If I could get a pencil or something, I could try to scratch out a message. Or at least attempt to spell my name.

Excited, I darted over to the pencil holder on the desk and pawed at it, knocking a pen loose. It clattered to the floor, but I wasn't deterred. I jumped down after it, grabbing it in my mouth like the ferocious beast I now was.

Aizawa raised an eyebrow as I struggled to drag the pen back onto the desk. "What are you doing now?"

I spat the pen onto the desk and tried to push it toward him, but my paws weren't built for fine motor skills. The pen wobbled and rolled, falling off the desk again. I let out a defeated sigh.

"Are you... trying to write?" he asked, his tone dripping with disbelief.

I shot him a look that clearly said, Yes, genius. 

Welcome to the party.

He actually chuckled, shaking his head. "You're something else."

I huffed and plopped down, my tail lashing behind me. This was hopeless. Even when I did something undeniably clever, he just thought I was being quirky. How was I supposed to get through to him?

"Okay, fine," Aizawa muttered, running a hand through his hair. "You win. I'll humor you." He grabbed the pen and set it on the desk in front of me. "What do you want to write?"

I perked up, my spirits lifting. Maybe this was my chance! I pawed at the pen again, trying to maneuver it into position. But no matter how hard I tried, the stupid thing kept slipping out of my grasp.

Aizawa watched me struggle for a few seconds before letting out a long sigh. "This is ridiculous."

I flopped onto the desk in defeat, covering my face with my paws. 

This is ridiculous.

"Alright, that's enough," he said, scooping me up and cradling me against his chest. "You're clearly overthinking whatever it is that's bothering you."

Overthinking? 

That was rich, coming from him.

"You'll feel better after a nap," he added, carrying me out of the lounge.

Nap? 

Nap?! 

Did this man think all my problems could be solved with sleep? 

I twisted in his arms, letting out a frustrated yowl that echoed through the hallway.

"Drama queen," he muttered under his breath.

I stared up at him, my ears flattening. "You have no idea what kind of drama queen I could be, sensei."

And with that, I resigned myself to my fate—at least for the moment. But mark my words, this wasn't over. If no one could understand me, then I'd just have to find another way to make them listen.

Because Midoriya Izuku didn't give up. Not on his dreams, not on his classmates, and certainly not on making his teacher realize the truth.

I just hoped I could figure it out before Aizawa decided to give me a litter box.