Hearing the tabby speak, Uchiha Yoru smiled, and his hands began moving even faster.
While the rice continued to cook, he set another pot of water to boil, then kept washing the white sesame seeds, chicken breast, and carrots.
Once the chicken and carrots were cooked through, he scooped them out. The chicken was quickly minced, the carrots mashed into a smooth paste.
He cracked in a few eggs, added a splash of soy sauce for color, then mixed in the seasonings—everything except salt. His hands blurred as he stirred, until the mixture became a uniform, pale pink paste.
When the water reached a rolling boil again, he shaped the paste into small meatballs, each about the size of a dove's egg, and dropped them one by one into the pot to blanch before fishing them out.
The broth was left to simmer. He added salt, a pinch of seasoning powder, and soy sauce, then thickened it with a starch slurry. Over high heat, the liquid reduced into a rich, glossy sauce.
By the time the rice was done, he took out two bowls and filled them with steaming white rice. A layer of meatballs was placed on top, and thick sauce was ladled over one of the bowls.
At the end, he tore a few sheets of seaweed in his palm and sprinkled them evenly over the meatballs.
Lunch was ready.
Truthfully, he didn't even like adding seaweed.
But the other diner did.
Yoru pulled the table closer, plated the remaining seaweed and some homemade pickles, and arranged everything neatly to make the meal feel more complete.
Then he took out a bottle of mandarin wine he had brewed the previous year. After opening it, he leaned in and took a sniff. The light, sweet citrus aroma told him it had fermented perfectly.
"Nice. At least it didn't turn into vinegar. That's drinkable too, but sweet wine is definitely better."
Satisfied, he poured himself a cup, set out the chopsticks—
And then looked straight at the tabby cat.
The cat's eyes were locked onto the meatballs. A thin line of drool hung at the corner of her mouth, yet she stubbornly held her head high, refusing to eat first.
Yoru shook his head helplessly.
That was just how cats were—especially proud ones like her. If he didn't invite her, she would never casually start eating and "ignore a friend's goodwill."
It was also a sign—
They still weren't close enough.
"Rika-chan," he said, "I made this cat meal especially for you. As your friend, I sincerely invite you to eat with me. You're not allowed to refuse."
"Alright. Yoru, you are my friend, so your kindness… chomp… must be… chomp… properly… chomp… accepted… chomp chomp—"
With her face already buried in the bowl, the tabby stubbornly finished her sentence.
After that, all pretense of elegance vanished.
She devoured the food at full speed.
Yoru couldn't help but wonder if she had deliberately gone hungry for seven days just to leave room for this meal.
But some things were better left unsaid.
If he exposed it, their friendship might not survive.
Even though she was his ninja cat summon, cats were proud creatures. They absolutely couldn't tolerate humiliation.
If she felt insulted, the next time he summoned her—
The first one to attack him would probably be her.
Smiling, he began eating his own portion.
Strictly speaking, once the sauce was poured over it, it was no longer cat food.
It was his favorite—
A rice bowl topped with sauced meatballs.
He picked up one meatball and popped it into his mouth. Pressing it gently against his molars, he bit down.
The firm, springy texture of the chicken gave way—
And rich, savory juices burst out.
Because the base recipe had been designed as cat food, the salt had been reduced. That allowed the natural sweetness of the chicken to come through, along with the soft, mellow flavor of the carrots.
Then the thick sauce followed, bringing its deep aroma and salty richness, layering the flavors together.
Yoru was very satisfied with his cooking.
Still, there was one small regret.
The texture was too soft.
If he could get fresh lotus root—or some other crisp vegetable with a hint of sweetness—and dice it finely to replace the carrots, the result would be perfect. That crunchy bite, paired with the firm elasticity of the meat, would elevate it entirely.
But then—
It wouldn't be suitable as cat food.
Cats didn't chew the way humans did. They tore and swallowed. The phrase "wolfing down food" suited them perfectly.
Crunchy vegetables weren't ideal for them. Their digestive systems could handle bones, but crisp vegetables were harder to process.
If forced, it might even cause intestinal blockage or acute enteritis.
That could be fatal.
Even for a ninja cat from the Cat Castle, it wasn't a risk worth taking.
If he really wanted that version, he'd have to prepare two separate meals.
Too troublesome.
He couldn't be bothered.
So he stopped thinking about it and focused on eating, fully immersing himself in the meal.
Especially one he had made himself.
The sense of satisfaction was immense.
The combination of meatballs and rice was slightly mild, which made the pickled vegetables the perfect companion. The salty bite tied everything together.
After finishing one bowl, he still wasn't satisfied.
He served himself a second.
Then a third.
By the time the entire pot of rice and all the meatballs were gone, he finally felt full.
Yoru slowly sipped his mandarin wine, waiting for the gluttonous cat to finish her second bowl.
This time, it contained only meatballs—no rice.
Well, cats were carnivores.
They should eat more meat.
After quite a while, the tabby finally finished.
She straightened herself and bowed with surprising seriousness.
"Thank you for the meal."
Before he could respond, she raised her head and spoke in an equally serious tone.
"Even though I enjoyed your hospitality, I still have to say this. My name is not Rika. You are not allowed to call me Rika-chan."
"But you're a tabby cat, and you're a girl. Rika-chan suits you perfectly."
"Meow! My name is Miwa Masayo! Miwa Masayo! You can't just name me based on how I look!"
The fur on her ears stood on end as she shouted,
"What does being a tabby have to do with the name Rika?!"
Yoru only smiled to himself.
Of course, it was because of a homophone from his previous life.
His transmigration was his greatest secret.
And a secret stopped being a secret the moment a second person knew.
If he ever died, this was something he would take to the grave.
Miwa Masayo raised her voice again.
"Anyway, Yoru! You are not allowed to give me weird nicknames anymore!"
"Alright, Rika-chan."
"Meow!! I'm angry now, meow!"
"How could you be angry, Ri~ka~chan~?"
"Raaawr—!"
Losing all restraint, the tabby sprang from the table and launched a barrage of rapid paw strikes at his head—pap pap pap.
But she never unsheathed her claws.
Her soft paw pads landed without any real force.
If anything, it felt more like a massage.
Yoru naturally knew she was holding back.
To preserve her dignity, he exaggerated his reaction.
"Ah! Ah!"
The two of them played around happily, treating it as post-meal entertainment.
Once they were done, it was time to clean up.
Miwa Masayo returned to her elegant posture, sitting on the windowsill as she carefully groomed her fur back into place. At the same time, she supervised him like a strict overseer.
"Can't you help a little?"
"Sorry. I only have paws, not hands."
"I'm the one who cooked, and I'm still the one washing dishes…"
"Hurry up, meow! I'm waiting for fruit, meow!"
"Seriously? You're a carnivore—how did you end up liking fruit?"
"As if you don't know. You tricked me into eating watermelon by hiding cat grass in it. Now I like watermelon, meow."
"Watermelon is expensive…"
"How expensive could it be? It can't cost more than meat—"
"One slice equals two chicken breasts."
"Meow?"
"A whole one."
"…Then maybe I won't eat watermelon today. Give me four chicken breasts instead, and I'll take them home."
Yoru laughed.
"You freeloader. You think you can trade my watermelon for my meat?"
"In your dreams."
"Just eat the watermelon."
"It keeps you hydrated and helps digestion. Plenty of benefits."
Read 50 chapters ahead on P@treon -> patreon.com/SorenSwiftTL