4

I can hear the pretty songs of the birds coming from my open window. Their melody floats through my room, making it the perfect thing to wake up to. My eyes feel heavy; they’re tired from yesterday’s hectic events, but I manage to open them.

The sunlight hits my face, making me squint a little. I stretch my arms above my head, letting out a small yawn. Looking at the golden lines the sunlight makes on my blanket reminds me of Mio. Everything reminds me of her...

Her laughter, her smile, even the indirect kiss...

Ahhhh! I quickly hide my face in the pillow as my cheeks burn like wildfire and my legs flop up and down as if I were swimming.

Gash! Why is she teasing me so much?! I throw a blanket over my head.

Okay, Cleo, just calm down... It’s all okay! ...It’s not! I cry out to myself.

I throw the blanket back on my bed and steal a quick look in the mirror.

My face is all red, my hair is a mess, and the expression I’m making is way too silly.

I’m doomed...

Bzzzt!

My phone buzzes on my nightstand, making me jump a little.

Who’s texting me at 6 in the morning?

I swiftly pick up the phone to check who on God’s green earth is disturbing my mental breakdown.

It’s Mita. Wait, Mita? How did she get my number??

The text says:

MITA: Yo, Cleo! Did you survive yesterday? Or did Mio eat you alive?
MITA: 👀 Word is, you two were looking pretty cozy at the café...

Wait, what? How does she know about our little outing??

I quickly text her back:

How did you get my number, and how do you know about all of this???

MITA: That doesn’t matter right now. Meet me at school ASAP❗️❗️❗️

My stomach drops. Meet her? What does she want??

I guess it has to be something important.

The rest of the morning drags on, and I spend the whole day worrying about what Mita wants to say. When I get on the bus, I don’t see Mio this time. In her place sits an elderly couple, so I decide to sit in the front. When I finally get to school, the first thing I see is Mita standing right in front of the gates, her back leaning against the brick wall, holding her sketchbook with crossed arms.

I slowly approach her, still not sure what she has in mind.

Just when Mita sees me, she breathes out and scolds me. “Just about time you showed up,” she says coldly, as ever.

I gulp. “Sorry. I tried to get here as fast as I could.”

“Well, there’s no time for small talk. Let’s go.” She drags me by my shoulder to who knows where, and when we finally stop, we’re in an empty classroom. I can still hear the students in the hall talking and laughing.

I look around the empty classroom. Weird. I didn’t know about this classroom before. It seems like it hasn’t been used for a good while.

Mita finally releases my now-painful shoulder. Her grip was so tight, I think it might be bruised.

Mita looks at me with a serious face.

“Sit!” She points at a single chair and commands me like a puppy that hasn’t learned to sit yet.

I nervously obey, my legs and hands shaky as I sit down in the dusty chair.

Mita claps her hands. “Let’s get straight to the point. You’re turning into a cat, and there’s no stopping it.”

“Well, aren’t you stating the obvious?”

“Quiet!” She softly yells at me like a strict teacher.

She turns some pages in her sketchbook and shows me a scribbled page, with a drawing that looks like a human slowly turning into a cat. Pointing at it, she says, “You have to learn how to control it. You need to know your triggers and things that help you calm down.” She explains as if she were a professor pointing at a whiteboard and I’m a student.

“Okay... let’s start with your control.” Mita pulls out her school bag and starts searching through it. In the end, she pulls out a variety of items: a bottle of water, catnip… and a small bell attached to a ribbon. She places them on the dusty desk in front of me.

“These are things you might use to control yourself when you feel the change coming,” she says, tapping each item. “Water to ground yourself, catnip… well, that’s more for distraction, and this bell? It’s to remind you to stay aware of your body.”

I stare at the items, not really sure if they’ll work or if Mita is only making fun of me.

“So... do these actually work??”

“They can, if you use them right. But the most important part is recognizing the warning signs before it’s too late,” Mita explains, her eyes narrowing.

“Things like cheeks or lower-back itching are a good sign of a transformation. You ignore them, you lose control. And losing control isn’t just embarrassing—it’s dangerous.”

I nod, still not really understanding the danger of the situation I’m in.

Mita closes her sketchbook and leans back, her serious gaze never leaving me. “Remember, Cleo… the sooner you learn to control it, the safer you’ll be. Don’t ignore it.”

I swallow hard.

“Class is over,” she adds, standing and brushing off her hands.

“What about the triggers?” I ask nervously.

“You have to find your triggers by yourself,” Mita adds, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well then… you’ll be late for class, so you should go.”

I hurry down the hallway; the bell rings, and my ears are unusually sensitive. Is that a sigh? Am I transforming? All of that Mita’s talk has made me paranoid. I start walking faster and catch a glimpse of my face in the window’s reflection. I could swear I saw some whiskers. But upon further inspection, I saw nothing there.

Gosh... I breathe out nervously.

I glance around, half-expecting someone to notice something strange about me. Every step, every whisper in the hallway makes me jump. Did that kid just laugh at me? Or was it nothing? My heart pounds, and I keep checking reflections in every window, every shiny surface.

Focus, Cleo, I tell myself. You're fine. It's all in your head... probably.

I tell myself to calm down, but it has the opposite effect and makes my hands shake and my vision blur at the edges.

Oh! What if I use one of those things Mita gave me?!

I quickly sprint to the bathroom and open up the stall doors.

I put my shoulder bag onto the floor (not the cleanest, but better than the toilet) and begin digging in. The first thing I pull out with my shaky hands is a bottle of water.

Soo... What do I do with this? Do I drink it?

I try to open the cap on the bottle, but my fingers are too shaky to firmly grab it.

Screw this.

I pull out the next item, which is... catnip!

Again, what do I do with this now?

I try smelling it. The minty-sweet aroma hits my nostrils, and I could swear I felt some relief for a second. But nothing has changed.

I try pulling out the third item, but instead of the ribbon with a bell, I grab something different—something glossy. It’s the cherry keychain!

I take the keychain closer to me. It brings a lot of memories of Mio—those teasing, sweet memories. I notice that my hands are not shaky anymore, and my vision is back to normal.

I stare at the keychain in my hands. The calmness I feel is real. It’s coming from the keychain... from Mio.

I put the keychain into my pocket, thinking that maybe if I have it there, it will still work.

With newfound determination, I push the stall door open and step out. The hallway is just as noisy as before, but this time it doesn’t overwhelm me. I walk with purpose, each step firmer than the last. But wait... didn’t the bell ring?? Oh no!

It turns out, luckily, that our teacher who was supposed to teach our class was sick, and the substitute didn’t even bother to show up. Well, not lucky that they were sick, but I managed to get to the class without any scolding. The classroom is pretty noisy, but thanks to my so-called lucky charm, my ears don’t hurt anymore.

Just as I sit down, I can feel a set of eyes following me from behind, and soon after, I feel a little tap on my shoulder.

I turn around quickly, not sure whose it could be.

It’s Mita.

“Hey!” she whispers, making sure no one else in the classroom can hear.

“What’s up, Mita? Got more lessons for me?” I say confidently.

Mita’s tone of voice seems impressed. “Oh? Someone’s confident. What happened? Did those items work? I’m sure it was the catnip!” Mita says, seemingly proud of herself.

“No, I found my own anti-transformation thing.”

“Oh? What is it?” Mita seems genuinely interested.

My cheeks flush just thinking about showing Mita the keychain—she will surely tease me about it!

“I won’t tell you!” I say, turning my head to the right like a spoiled child.

“Oh, come on, Cleo! This could really help the research!” Annoyed, Mita puts her hands on top of my desk.

“No matter what you say, I’m not telling!”

“Fine!” Mita turns around and sits down at her desk, clearly mad. She aggressively scribbles into her sketchbook.