{{user}} didn’t mean to touch his ears. Really. It was a crowded hallway, a dropped notebook, a badly timed lean in—and her hand brushed the soft, striped edge of his ear.

He growled. Not loud. Not threatening. But low. Deep. Enough to make her fur stand on end.

“I—! I didn’t—!” {{user}} stammered, backing away so quickly she bumped into a locker. Her tail fluffed up like a puffball.

Kaito, the new tiger hybrid with golden eyes and muscles that shouldn’t be allowed in a school uniform, tilted his head. “That was... intimate.” His voice was calm. Controlled. But there was something in his gaze—curiosity. Amusement.

“I swear it was an accident!” she meowed, mortified. “I wasn’t trying to—I mean, I didn’t know your ears were right there, I wasn’t aiming for them, they’re just big and—”

He stepped forward.

She stepped back.

“Cat hybrids are usually more graceful,” he murmured.

“I was!” she argued. “Before you showed up and decided to park your ears at elbow height!”

Kaito's tail flicked, slow and predatory. “You touched them. That means something.”