Doukyonin wa Hiza, Tokidoki, Atama no Ue.

My Roommate is a Cat

Characters

Subaru Mikazuki

MAIN

Haru

MAIN

Leo

SUPPORTING

Hachi

SUPPORTING

Kouta Iijima

SUPPORTING

Yasaka's Mother

SUPPORTING

Yuugo Oukami

SUPPORTING

Atsushi Kawase

SUPPORTING

Hayato Yasaka

SUPPORTING

Natsuko Akimoto

SUPPORTING

Hiroto Yasaka

SUPPORTING

Saho Mikazuki

SUPPORTING

Narumi Yasaka

SUPPORTING

Nana Oukami

SUPPORTING

Kazuhiro Mikazuki

SUPPORTING

Nagisa Yasaka

SUPPORTING

Kuro

SUPPORTING

Sonoko Tanabe

SUPPORTING

Misora Yasaka

SUPPORTING

Tora

SUPPORTING

Tarou

SUPPORTING

Roku

SUPPORTING

Haru Akimoto

SUPPORTING

Nurse

BACKGROUND

Receptionist

BACKGROUND

My Roommate Is a Cat Season 1: A Profound Exploration of Solitude, Healing, and Interspecies Connection

My Roommate Is a Cat (Dōkyonin wa Hiza, Tokidoki, Atama no Ue), a 12-episode anime series that aired from January to March 2019, is a masterclass in understated storytelling that transcends the typical “cute pet anime” trope. Adapted from the manga by Minatsuki and illustrated by Asu Futatsuya, this slice-of-life drama, produced by Studio Zero-G, delves into the emotional intricacies of grief, social anxiety, and the transformative power of companionship through the unique lens of a human and a cat. By alternating perspectives between Subaru Mikazuki, a reclusive novelist, and Haru, a stray tuxedo cat, the series crafts a narrative that is both deeply personal and universally resonant, offering a fresh take on the human-animal bond that avoids clichés and embraces raw emotional authenticity.

A Dual Narrative That Redefines Empathy

The series’ most striking feature is its split-perspective storytelling, a narrative device that sets it apart from other pet-centric anime like Chi’s Sweet Home or With a Dog AND a Cat, Every Day Is Fun. Each episode is divided into two parts: one from Subaru’s point of view and the other from Haru’s. This structure is not merely a gimmick but a profound exploration of how two beings, separated by species and communication barriers, interpret the same events. Subaru, a 23-year-old mystery writer who has isolated himself since his parents’ tragic death, views the world through a lens of social avoidance and intellectual detachment. Haru, a street-smart cat who has endured hunger and loss, approaches life with cautious pragmatism and a fierce survival instinct.

The brilliance lies in how these perspectives reveal their mutual misunderstandings and gradual growth. For instance, when Subaru names the cat “Haru,” he draws inspiration from a childhood story, unaware that Haru associates the name with a kind girl who once fed her, equating it with the promise of food. These miscommunications—often humorous, sometimes poignant—highlight the gaps in understanding that define their early relationship, yet they also pave the way for moments of genuine connection. The dual narrative challenges viewers to empathize with both a human grappling with emotional isolation and a cat navigating a world of instinct and memory, making the series a compelling study in perspective-taking.

Subaru and Haru: Two Broken Souls Finding Solace

At its core, My Roommate Is a Cat is a story about healing through companionship, but it never shies away from the weight of its characters’ pasts. Subaru is not just a quirky introvert; he’s a deeply wounded individual whose social anxiety and grief have calcified into a near-hikikomori lifestyle. His reluctance to engage with others—evident in his curt interactions with his editor, Kawase, or his childhood friend, Hiroto—stems from a fear of vulnerability, exacerbated by the loss of his parents in a bus accident. The series doesn’t romanticize his isolation but portrays it with unflinching honesty, showing how his routines (endless reading, writing, and avoiding human contact) are both a shield and a cage.

Haru, meanwhile, is no ordinary anime cat designed for maximum cuteness. Her rough backstory—scavenging for food, protecting her siblings, and losing them to predators—gives her a gritty resilience that contrasts with her soft appearance. Her “resting bitch face,” as one reviewer aptly described, reflects a life of hardship, yet her cautious trust in Subaru reveals a longing for security. The series excels in depicting authentic cat behavior, from Haru’s erratic leaps to her obsession with food, grounded in the animators’ clear understanding of feline mannerisms. This realism makes her perspective not just endearing but profoundly relatable, especially for viewers familiar with the quirks of stray animals.

Their relationship evolves organically, marked by small, meaningful moments rather than grand gestures. When Haru curls up on Subaru’s lap during a moment of grief, or when Subaru learns to navigate a pet store despite his social panic, the series captures the quiet power of mutual care. These moments are not saccharine but earned, reflecting the slow, messy process of building trust across species.

Technical Merits and Emotional Restraint

Studio Zero-G’s animation is functional yet effective, prioritizing character expression and subtle details over flashy visuals. Haru’s movements—her cautious prowls, sudden sprints, and expressive glares—are animated with a precision that cat owners will find uncannily accurate. The muted color palette and cozy interiors of Subaru’s home create a “healing” atmosphere, as described by Anime News Network’s Rose Bridges, akin to curling up with a warm drink on a rainy day. The soundtrack, understated and melodic, complements the series’ restrained tone, never overpowering the emotional beats.

What sets My Roommate Is a Cat apart is its refusal to lean into melodrama. Flashbacks to Subaru’s parents or Haru’s lost siblings are poignant but not manipulative, used sparingly to deepen our understanding of their anxieties. Rebecca Silverman’s 2020 review for Anime News Network gave the series an A−, praising its “respectful exploration” of anxiety and the comfort of animal companionship, though noting that some flashbacks feel “heavy-handed.” This restraint ensures that the series’ emotional highs—Subaru’s tentative steps toward socializing, Haru’s reunion with her brother Hachi—feel authentic and impactful.

A Broader Lens on Human and Animal Connection

Beyond its central duo, the series introduces a small but well-developed cast that enriches its themes. Nana, the pet store clerk with a knack for cat care, serves as a gentle guide for Subaru, helping him navigate pet ownership while subtly encouraging him to open up. Kawase, Subaru’s editor, balances humor and persistence, pushing Subaru out of his comfort zone without judgment. These characters, along with brief appearances from Hiroto and Haru’s brother Hachi, underscore the idea that connection, whether human or animal, is a catalyst for growth.

The series also subtly critiques the human tendency to anthropomorphize animals while respecting their distinct nature. Haru’s perspective, voiced with a mix of pragmatism and curiosity by Haruka Yamazaki (Japanese) and Jad Saxton (English), never feels like a human in cat form. Instead, her thoughts reflect a feline worldview—food-driven, instinctual, and fiercely protective—making her a fully realized character rather than a cute mascot.

Critical Reception and Cultural Impact

My Roommate Is a Cat has garnered widespread praise for its emotional depth and innovative storytelling. Anime News Network’s five reviewers offered varied takes on the premiere, with Theron Martin lauding its “balanced and natural portrayal” of Haru’s perspective and Paul Jensen calling it an “enjoyable slice of life story” with broad appeal. Some, like Nick Creamer, found Subaru’s arc less engaging, citing “insubstantial” humor, but even critical reviews acknowledged the cat’s perspective as a highlight. The series’ nomination for Best Comedy at the 4th Crunchyroll Anime Awards (though it lost to Kaguya-sama: Love Is War) reflects its strong reception among fans and critics alike.

For cat lovers, the series is a love letter to the quirks and complexities of feline companionship, as noted by Bleeding Cool’s Madeline Ricchiuto, who called it both “adorable and disturbing” for its unflinching look at Subaru’s isolation. For those who relate to social anxiety or grief, Subaru’s journey offers a mirror to their own struggles, tempered by hope. The series’ universal appeal lies in its ability to speak to anyone who has found solace in an animal’s presence, regardless of whether they identify as a “cat person.”

Why It Stands Out

Unlike many pet anime that lean heavily on comedy or cuteness, My Roommate Is a Cat strikes a delicate balance between humor, heartache, and hope. Its dual perspective challenges viewers to see the world through another’s eyes—human or animal—fostering a deeper understanding of empathy and connection. The series doesn’t shy away from the messiness of emotional healing, yet it remains a “healing” anime in the truest sense, offering comfort without sugarcoating life’s difficulties.

In a crowded anime landscape, My Roommate Is a Cat Season 1 stands out for its quiet ambition. It’s not about epic battles or world-saving quests but about the small, transformative moments that define a life shared with another. For Subaru and Haru, and for viewers who join their journey, it’s a reminder that even in our deepest solitude, connection is possible—one lap, one headbutt, one shared moment at a time.