A Little Hero's Fuzzball

The boy, who was called Clark, scratched his head sheepishly and then leaned into the woman's shoulder, mumbling, "Mommy, the kitty was being bullied by a wild boar, so I brought the kitty home."

The woman immediately understood and nodded her head, saying, "I hope the wild boar is okay."

What?

Soren mentally put a big question mark in his head.

Why was she more concerned about the wild boar instead of her own child?

Clark quickly shook his head, "The wild boar's not hurt! Clark controlled his strength!"

The woman smiled and patted Clark's curly black hair, encouraging him, "Clark did a great job, saving a little kitty. You're such a brave and kind boy."

Clark, embarrassed by the praise, rubbed his face against his mother's arm, making the woman laugh as she lovingly kissed his chubby cheeks.

Just then, a man mumbled as he came down the stairs, looking sleepy.

When he saw the mother and son standing by the door, he gave them a puzzled look, "Martha, Clark, what are you doing by the door?"

The woman turned around at his words and gently lifted Soren, showing him to the man, "Jonathan, look, Clark rescued a little kitten."

As Soren was held in the woman's hands, he shivered uncontrollably at hearing their conversation.

Wait, what did he just hear?

Martha, Clark, Jonathan?

Those names might sound ordinary by themselves, but when put together, any superhero fan would immediately think of that iconic moment—the red cape man flying across the sky.

Soren thought he was hearing things.

If he weren't stuck in this cat's body, he'd probably be slapping his forehead right now.

—What kind of superhero fan who doesn't know the origin story of the first-ever superhero, the man in the red cape, the god among men?

Soren had practically engraved that superhero's name in every corner of his room!

His heart began pounding faster.

That goofy boy who punched the wild boar... could he really be—

The little kitten trembled slightly and lowered his head, searching for the black-haired, blue-eyed boy.

The boy was clinging to his mother's leg, smiling goofily after being praised, his eyes sweetly fixed on the kitten in his mother's hands.

In the boy's large, bright eyes was the endless blue of the sky, a whole galaxy of shining stars.

It was the purest form of Soren's childhood dreams and all the hopes he had growing up.

It was real, completely, purely, undeniably Kryptonian boy.

Soren was utterly stunned.

Who are you?

Are you... him?

The boy looked at his parents again, his expression hopeful, "Mom, Dad, can I keep the kitty at home?"

Martha hesitated, and Jonathan let out a small grunt, walking over to them.

He scooped up little Clark and playfully shook him, saying, "Clark, do you remember how many calves you've accidentally hurt?"

The boy quickly caught the meaning behind his father's words, and his face fell, "But... but Clark won't hurt the kitty!"

"If you can promise me," Jonathan said, holding Clark securely, "that you'll always try not to hurt any animals, then Martha and I will let you keep the cat. But if we find out the cat gets hurt because of you, we'll have to give it away—"

"I won't!" Clark shouted loudly, then grabbed Jonathan's pajamas, looking upset, "Clark and the kitty will be best friends, I promise."

Jonathan and Martha exchanged a knowing, gentle smile.

Martha's eyes were filled with love and tenderness as she looked at Clark, "Alright, Clark, Mommy and Daddy agree."

"Yay!" The boy clapped his hands excitedly, and Soren watched in shock as Clark began to float right out of Jonathan's arms.

Soren: !!!!!!?

"Clark!" Jonathan raised his voice a little and quickly pulling his son back into his arms.

He then whispered, "Didn't you promise Daddy you'd try to control your powers?"

Martha covered her mouth, laughing softly as she stepped closer, "Don't be so hard on him, dear. You know our baby will floats whenever he gets excited."

Jonathan chuckled too, "Yeah, he's always been like that. He really isn't good at hiding his emotions."

He laughed as he hugged Clark tight, then lifted him over his head, carrying him up the stairs, "Alright, time for bed, little man. Let's go, Clark!"

Wait, wait!

Don't go!

Let me look at my hero a little longer!

Soren struggled in Martha's arms, his eyes fixed longingly on little Clark.

His whole heart felt like it was being squeezed and lifted at the same time, his heartbeat completely out of rhythm.

Soren could almost see his younger self in his memories, sobbing as a small boy.

The blond prince clutched an old Superman comic while wiping away his tears.

Sitting in the corner of the palace, he repeated the same words over and over: "Superman can't die."

If this was a dream...

If this was a dream, then it had to be the best and sweetest dream he ever had.

He had turned into a cat, a superhero's cat in Kansas.

As the classic James Bond theme played in his head, Soren jumped down from the toilet seat to the floor.

His small, agile body moved with grace as he leaped.

He pushed open the bathroom door with his head, jumped onto the staircase railing, and slid down it in one smooth motion.

He landed in a perfect superhero pose—one paw on the floor, one bent to the side, and his head raised.

His amber almond-shaped eyes locked on the TV in the living room, which was still on.

"Meow!"

Soren sprinted forward and quickly placed his paw on the remote in little Clark's hand.

The fluffy cat's face was now right in Clark's line of sight, and in Soren's eyes, there was an unmistakable look of what could only be described as "disapproval."

Five-year-old Clark, sitting on the floor in front of the TV, immediately burst into a smile when he saw his kitty.

He scooped Soren up and snuggled him close, pressing his chubby cheek against the soft fur, "Fuzzball!"