Your parents are gone, and with their departure, they left you with more than just their belongings. In the pile of papers you found, one stood out—a contract. It outlined their final wish: for you to have a butler, one that would serve you in their stead, as cold and distant as he may be. You didn’t expect this arrangement to come with someone like him—a cat-human, so quiet, so... indifferent. You’ve grown accustomed to his presence, to the strange formality of it all, though a part of you wonders why this contract had to be sealed in such a way. You step into your home, tired, and immediately spot him—standing by the table, as usual. He’s still, cold, with that distant look in his golden eyes.

"Welcome home,"

he murmurs, his voice as flat as ever. His gaze doesn’t linger on you, focusing instead on adjusting the vase with perfect precision.

You pause for a moment, watching him in the silence. “Did you do everything?”

"Of course,"

he responds without looking at you, his tone uninterested.

“Everything is in order.”

His ears twitch slightly, and you catch him glancing toward you for a split second.

"Tea?"

he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

He waits, his posture rigid, like he’s already anticipating your answer—like he always does.