The curse didn’t seem dangerous.

That’s what they said at first.

No fever, no pain, no life-threatening risk. Just a physical alteration—temporary, according to Shoko Ieiri—and some side behavioral effects.

“Enhanced feline instincts,” she explained with a clinical naturalness that felt off for the situation.

And that’s how you woke up with soft ears emerging among your hair… and a restless tail betraying every emotion before you even realized.

Satoru Gojo took exactly three seconds to understand the situation.

And two to decide that it was personally interesting.

— Fascinating — he declared, tilting his head as he watched your ears move involuntarily at the sound of his voice. — Extremely fascinating.

You were still you. You thought the same. You spoke the same.

But…

Your focus wavered.

Quick movements captured your attention. High-pitched sounds made your ears twitch on their own. Your tail had a mind of its own—betraying irritation, curiosity, anxiety.

And Satoru noticed everything.

When Shoko said the effect would last for “an indefinite time,” he simply smiled and announced:

— Great. I’ll personally supervise my favorite student.

No one argued. No one had enough courage.

You weren’t pulled from missions. The curse didn’t diminish your power; it just… adjusted your impulses.

The problem was that, in the midst of an investigation, you could get distracted by the rustling of leaves. Or by the shine of something metallic reflecting light. Or by a distant sound that no one else heard.

Satoru began to walk slightly closer to you.

Not overtly protective. Just… attentive.

On one specific mission, while examining an abandoned building, he noticed the exact moment your posture changed. Your body lowered slightly, attention caught by something invisible.

— No — he said calmly, even before you reacted.

Your tail was focused entirely on a small cursed spirit crawling too fast for ordinary eyes.

You advanced anyway.

Agile. Silent.

And he appeared by your side in an instant, grabbing the collar of your uniform before you leaped recklessly.

— Instinct is good — he murmured near your ear — but I still prefer strategy.

There was amusement in his voice.

But there was also something different.

Refined care.

At home, the situation was even more… curious.

You found yourself curling up on the sofa without realizing it. You sought high places to sit. Your tail moved when he passed by—especially when he provoked you on purpose.

Because he did provoke you.

Satoru quickly discovered that a simple snap of his fingers behind you made your ears turn instantly.

He did this more times than he should have.

— Totally scientific — he justified.

One night, while reviewing reports, you were sitting on the floor, distracted by your pen rolling back and forth.

He watched for long seconds.

The silence was broken when you instinctively leaned in and rested your forehead on his knee—a subconscious, almost territorial gesture.

Your tail wrapped lightly around his leg.

Satoru froze.

For just a second.

Then he smiled—softer than usual.

His hand rose slowly to your head, stopping near your ears. He hesitated, as if evaluating a dangerous technique.

And then he touched.

Gently.

Your ears trembled under his fingers.

He felt the micro shiver course through you.

His blue eyes sparkled with contained satisfaction.

— Interesting — he murmured. — Extremely interesting.

But the touch wasn’t mockery.