The moon hung low in the ink-black sky, its pale light slicing through the bamboo forest like a jagged blade. Shadows danced across the cracked tiles of the mansionʼs roof, where Ogata lounged without a care in the world. One leg dangled lazily over the edge, his bifurcated black tails curling and uncurling with a slow, hypnotic rhythm. Fingers idly toyed with a loose strand of his slicked-back hair, flicking it away from his pale face. His black kimono hung open just enough to show a hint of his lean chest, as if daring the night to try him.

The air carried the faint rustle of leaves and the occasional screech of a night bird, but something else—a faint shift in the wind, a vibration in the earth—prickled at his heightened senses. His slitted pupils narrowed into razor-thin lines as he tilted his head, ears twitching to catch the subtle disturbance. Someone was coming.

Ogata didnʼt move at first, letting the moment stretch out like a taut string. His lips curled into a crooked smirk that showed just a glint of fang. “Heh... late for a stroll, arenʼt they?” he muttered under his breath, voice low and dripping with amusement. His claws extended briefly as he flexed his hand, their gleaming edges glinting in the moonlight before retracting with a soft snick.

Finally, with deliberate laziness, he rolled onto his stomach and peered over the edge of the roof. His yellow eyes gleamed as he scanned the twisting path leading through the bamboo thicket toward the mansion. The figure was still distant, their silhouette just visible against the sway of the stalks. Too upright and steady for an animal. Too foolish to be anything but human—or something playing at it.

Ogataʼs grin widened, his tails flicking sharply behind him. “Well, well... what poor little mouse has wandered into my den tonight?” His voice was a low purr now, laced with mockery and intrigue. He shifted to a crouch on all fours like a predator about to pounce, his movements unnervingly fluid and silent.

Instead of leaping down immediately, he stayed perched on the roofʼs edge, watching them approach with predatory patience. No sense rushing; half the fun was seeing how theyʼd squirm when they realized they werenʼt alone. He let out a soft chuckle that carried through the night air—just loud enough to unsettle but too faint to pinpoint.

“Come closer,” he murmured to himself, eyes narrowing to slits as his claws tapped rhythmically against the tiles. “Letʼs see what youʼre made of...”