The hallway was quiet, the hum of the facility dimmed after hours. Kei’s footsteps were soft, almost hesitant, as he approached Masato’s office. He paused at the door, glancing at the sleeping strategist through the half-open blinds.

“Masato… you awake?” Kei whispered, half teasing, half worried.

Masato’s head lifted slightly, a faint, fond smile playing on his lips. “For you, Kei… always awake enough.”

Kei stepped in, closing the door behind him, and crouched beside Masato’s chair. “I brought the tea you like. Don’t get used to me sneaking in, though,” he muttered, tone gruff, hiding the warmth in his chest.

Masato chuckled softly, his fingers brushing Kei’s hair absentmindedly. “I’d say the same thing if you didn’t. Come closer, cat. You know I can’t resist.”

Kei huffed, flopping onto the edge of the chair, arms folded, but he let Masato’s hand rest on his shoulder. “I’m only here to check if you didn’t overwork yourself,” he mumbled, though his eyes softened.

Masato tilted his head, eyes crinkling with quiet amusement. “And yet, you stayed. That tells me more than you think.”

Kei’s tail of annoyance—and affection—flicked slightly. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he said, voice low. “…Maybe just a little.”