Pinku Cat Cafe [South Park x Reader]

Creation of Butterfly

Mom: Hey, I'm going to spend the night at his place. Order some food for yourself for dinner and I'll pay you back.

You furrow your brow. She's spending the night with him on the first date? That's totally not normal for her... you're a little annoyed that she decided on this before you could even prepare for it, but what can you do? She has a right to have a love life...

You: Okay, be careful. Love you!

Mom: Love you too

At least she said it back this time... you shut your phone off with a small sigh. You intend on relaxing, but nearly jump out of your damn skin when your doorbell rings. Who could that be? The boys just left and you know for sure that your mother would just unlock the door if she wanted to come in.

When you open the door, you feel like your heart drops to your feet. There isn't a person waiting for you, no... it's actually an object. A very familiar object. A staff that's pink on the base of it, but the end of it is shaped into a heart and is golden in color. The gem in the middle of it is like that of a ruby... outside of the heart is a pair of wings on each side. You pick it up, and it's actually quite sturdy... beautiful, but sturdy.

You blink when you see a note flutter nearby. You didn't see that it came with this before... you pluck it off the ground and examine it.

The outfit wasn't from your grandparents. It was from me. Take this staff as well. You can thank me later. The Freedom Pals need you.

Wait... there's no way in hell that this is real. You're just a normal girl with a normal life, you can't possibly be a superhero. Why you of all people? How does this person know about your dream and what do they want with you?

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you carry the staff upstairs. You don't know why, but despite your concern and fear, you feel compelled to do as the paper tells you. There's something about this whole situation... maybe something is going on that you don't know about. A robbery? A murder?

You bite on your lip and pull on the outfit that the mystery person has provided for you. Wanting to conceal your identity, you pull on a cute face mask that you got at an anime convention last year. It's white in color and has a cute, cat-like mouth on it with three lines on each cheek for blush. Last, but not least, you dig through your closet and find an old cosplay wig that you still have, resembling Kai'sa's KDA skin's hair, though in a color similar to baby blue. Running your tongue over your lips, you grab your staff and your keys (you put those in your bra) before running out of the house.

You run, and run and run until you feel like you're going to pass out. You're breathing heavily as you come upon a group of people upon a high hill that overlooks South Park. You stand back behind them, watching the view as you do so. It looks peaceful now, but you can only imagine how rowdy it will become.

"State your business with us," a scratchy voice orders you without looking back at you. You're not sure how he knew that you were here, but you digress. After a moment of silence, the group looks over their shoulder.

Your 'hair' is flowing in the wind, as well as your capelet and your full skirt. "My name is Butterfly," you say, slightly altering your voice. "I have been summoned here from someone in your organization."

The sound of rolling comes, and you come face to face with a fellow near your age in an automated wheelchair. He dons a formal, dark blue suit and a flannel blanket covering his legs. He presses his pointer finger to his temple.

You flinch when you hear his voice deep in your consciousness. "Pleased to meet you, Butterfly. My name is Doctor Timothy. I am the one who provided your hero outfit and weapon. You see, we have quite the predicament."

"What is this predicament you speak of?" You ask.

"There has been a disappearance in South Park," the same scratchy voice speaks once more. You gaze at his features, or lack thereof because the majority of his face is concealed, as well as his hair. Mysterion. You remember seeing his profile on Coonstagram.

"Barbara Garthunk. She's a receptionist and no one has one bad thing to say about her. She's been missing for three months," a fellow with yellow goggles perched upon his nose speaks. Toolshed.

"The town is talking about her leaving her husband so she can continue her partying lifestyle. But there's something else to the story," a fellow wearing a replica of a Yase-Otoko mask. The mask represents an emaciated man suffering in hell, you think— you read about them once. Super C. You heard that he used to not wear a mask at all as a child.

"S-She's pregnant," another fellow speaks. This one is wearing a similar mask to Super C, but this particular mask represents Wakaonna, or a beautiful woman in the Edo period. This is Wonder T, romantic partner of Super C and an elementalist class hero.

You look ahead, considering what you've been told. "Has her body been found yet? The more days that pass without finding her, the less likely we are to find her alive."

"Okay, wow. That's super fucking morbid. But no, we haven't," The Coon comments.

"She was said to be last seen by her husband at 9:30 in the morning of March 13th, bzzt. But her neighbor found her dog wandering the neighborhood alone at 10:30," the nasally voice of the Mosquito explains to you. It must be uncomfortable to have that thing on his nose all the time. It sounds like he's pinching his nose as he speaks, but he's not.

"Her husband, Chad, said he came home and she was nowhere to be found, so he called the police. Obviously, they haven't been much help," the Human Kite recalls, rubbing the back of his head, which is an odd sight because his hair isn't even there. It's covered by his outfit.

"T-They never a-are." Fastpass' voice is slightly muffled against the bandana wrapped around his mouth area.

"We have to do this not just for Barbara's family, but for the rest of South Park, too," Tupperware's voice sounds like he's talking in an echo chamber, which... isn't exactly incorrect. You glance at him, but have to keep yourself from laughing because his headpiece is all fogged up from his own breath.

"D... Do you need a wipe?" The Coon asks his colleague quietly.

"No, I'm fine," Tupperware whispers right back at him.

You lean on your staff, firmly planted in the ground and you hum in thought. You want this woman to be safe and sound, but the possibility of her being dead is far greater than anything else right now. You know how cases like these go, and it's never pretty. Besides, there's no reason for a soon to be mother to want to continue her partying lifestyle without the man she loves. It just doesn't make sense.

"I have an idea of who the culprit might be," you say after some moments of silence. You've learned a lot after reading and watching copious amounts of true crime in your years of living.

"I can guarantee you that it's Chad Garthunk. I am certain of it."