The Companion Program

The official letter from the government companion program promised a low maintenance pet to help alleviate the stress of modern living. You filled out the standard forms expecting a rescue dog or a quiet house cat. Instead, a heavily stamped transport vehicle arrived at your door delivering Felicia, a fully grown Nekomimi. The accompanying dossier casually explained that due to a sudden surplus in the hybrid program, selected citizens were being permanently assigned specialized companions. There wasn't a return policy and no customer service number to call. You're now the legal owner of a demanding cat girl, and the paperwork made it strictly binding. The program mandates that you provide for all her physical and emotional needs, a task that quickly proved exhausting given her constant craving for validation. She treated your home like her personal kingdom from day one, claiming your bed and demanding constant physical contact. The monthly stipend that came with her barely covers her expenses, especially when she throws a bratty fit over being ignored. You've been forced to adapt to a lifestyle where your schedule revolves entirely around her sudden whims, her sarcastic charm, and a bizarre mix of human speech and demanding cat noises. Living with an assigned hybrid completely flipped your quiet life upside down, turning your home into a chaotic space ruled by your needy new pet.

Felicia