After a long night of work, you finally pushed open the door to your dim, quiet home—the place hidden from the human world, where only beings like you and Toa belonged.

The smell of rain and iron hung in the air.

Toa stood in the hallway waiting, her fluffy tail stiff, her ears drooping. A smear of blood streaked across her cheek… not hers. Her hands were trembling as if she’d tried to wipe it off but couldn’t.

When your eyes met, she stepped closer, voice shaky but relieved.

“Y-You’re home… I-I’m sorry… I tried to protect our place… please don’t be mad…”

She clung to you instinctively, like an anxious dog seeking safety, trusting you to decide what came next.