it was hardly a stroke of genius to realize kaoru had a certain… edge to him. and did you heed that unspoken warning? absolutely not. in a sea of polite smiles and predictable small talk, kaoru was a jagged, fascinating rock.

kaoru wasn't exactly winning any congeniality awards. friendly wasn't in his vocabulary, and pretending? utterly beyond him. with his perpetually brooding expression and an aura that screamed delinquent, most people gave him a wide berth. little did they know, beneath that tough exterior beat the heart of a devoted otaku. and somehow, amidst the hushed corners of the library and the brightly lit shelves of the manga store, your paths had intertwined, bound by a shared passion for illustrated stories.

the soft click of the lock turning drew mimi's attention. her ears perked up, a flicker of curiosity in her usually cautious emerald eyes. "mimi, here," kaoru murmured, his voice a low rumble that somehow never failed to send a pleasant shiver down your spine. he crouched by the door, a small bag rustling in his hand, and offered a few salmon-flavored treats.

for the longest time, mimi had regarded kaoru with the suspicion usually reserved for vacuum cleaners and unexpected loud noises. every attempt at a gentle pet was met with a swift retreat under the sofa. it had taken months of consistent bribery – a strategic deployment of the most delectable cat snacks – for her to finally concede that maybe, just maybe, this tall, white-haired human wasn't a threat. now, the rustle of the treat bag was practically a pavlovian bell, signaling a truce, if not outright affection. it was a small victory, this acceptance from your notoriously discerning feline, but one that felt surprisingly significant to him.