I sprawled out on the desk, my tail flicking lazily as I stared at the ceiling. 

What am I even doing anymore?

It had been days—weeks?—since my life had turned into this weird feline sitcom, and I still had no answers. No progress. No magical "turn Izuku back into a human" solutions. Just me, a black cat with green eyes, stuck in a hero school where no one even knew I was here.

Or that I'm me.

I let out a long, exaggerated sigh. My little cat body felt heavy as I shifted positions for what had to be the millionth time. How many different ways could a cat lay down on a desk before it got old? Spoiler alert: I hit that limit three days ago.

I flicked my tail against the desk, trying to ignore the annoying spiral of thoughts invading my brain. I had tried everything I could think of—mewing, pawing at notebooks, even scratching words into the dirt outside. No one understood me. Koda couldn't hear me. Aizawa thought I was overly dramatic. My classmates thought I was just a random stray.

Some hero I am, I thought bitterly.

The word stung more than I wanted to admit. Being a hero was all I'd ever wanted. Every moment of my life had been dedicated to getting closer to that dream. Even when I was quirkless, I never gave up. I worked harder than anyone else because I had to.

And now...

Now I couldn't even hold a pencil. I couldn't talk. I couldn't do anything except sit here and flick my stupid tail like some moody house pet.

I rolled onto my side, pressing my face into the desk.

  How am I supposed to save people like this? 

How am I supposed to save anyone when I can't even save myself?

There was no answer, of course. Just the sound of my tail thumping against the wood and the occasional shuffle of papers from Aizawa at his desk.

Maybe this is it, I thought grimly.

  Maybe I'm stuck like this forever.

The idea made my chest ache in a way that was distinctly un-catlike. I blinked up at the ceiling, trying to push the thought away, but it clung to me like a heavy blanket.

What would All Might say if he saw me like this?

 Would he even recognize me? 

Would he laugh? 

Would he be disappointed?

I shut my eyes tightly, the sting of unshed tears threatening to spill. 

Stop it, Izuku. 

You're a cat. 

Cats don't cry.

But it was hard to stay optimistic when everything felt so hopeless.

The noise of shuffling papers startled me out of my sulking. I glanced over to see Aizawa scribbling something down, his dark eyes barely flicking in my direction. "Still sulking, huh?" he muttered under his breath.

Sulking? 

My ears twitched in annoyance. 

I'm not sulking! 

I'm... thinking. 

Reflecting. 

Contemplating my existential crisis as a cat, thank you very much.

I let out a dramatic huff, but Aizawa didn't seem to notice—or care. He just went back to grading papers like I wasn't having a full-blown identity crisis right in front of him. Typical.

I rolled back onto my stomach, stretching my little paws out in front of me. My claws flexed against the desk, leaving tiny scratch marks that I probably should've felt bad about, but didn't. 

What do I even do now?

 If I can't go back to being human... what's left?

The thought hit me harder than I expected. Giving up on hero work felt like admitting defeat. Like saying, "Yeah, you were right, world. I'm just a quirkless nobody who got lucky."

Except now I wasn't even quirkless. I was quirked, sure—but not in a way that anyone would call "lucky."

I let my head fall onto my paws with a soft thud. Is this what it feels like to hit rock bottom?

But then... a spark.

Wait.

No one understands me... yet.

The thought sent a jolt of energy through me. What if I found a way to make them understand? What if I proved I could still be a hero, even like this?

My tail started flicking again, but this time with determination instead of frustration.

  I'm still Midoriya Izuku.

 I'm still me.

 And if anyone can figure this out, it's me.

There had to be a way.

There was always a way.

Maybe I'd have to get creative. Maybe I'd have to claw my way—literally—back into the hero game. But one thing was certain: I wasn't giving up.

Not now. Not ever.

I sat up, my ears perking forward as I scanned the room. Aizawa was still focused on his papers, oblivious to my newfound determination. Good. That gave me time to think, to plan.

Because if there was one thing I knew, it was this:

A hero never quits. Even if he's a cat.

I stood up, my little paws pressing firmly against the desk as I tried to map out my next move. Step one: find someone who can actually understand me. Step two: convince them I'm not just a regular cat. Step three: figure out how to turn back into a human.

Simple, right?

My tail flicked again, and I felt the tiniest spark of hope ignite in my chest. Maybe this wasn't the end. Maybe this was just a new beginning.

The sound of Aizawa's chair scraping against the floor pulled me out of my thoughts. I glanced over to see him stretching, his arms raised high above his head as he let out a tired sigh.

"Don't get into trouble while I'm gone," he said, giving me a pointed look before heading toward the door.

Trouble? Me? Never.

I watched him leave, my green eyes narrowing slightly. 

He has no idea what's coming.

As the door clicked shut, I jumped down from the desk, landing gracefully on all fours. 

Time to get to work.