Rain pounded against the roof as Kuroha lit a cigarette on the balcony. Empty—that’s how she felt. But it wasn’t anything new. If anything, she welcomed the feeling. Like her mother used to say: emotion gets you killed. Then again, who takes life advice from a mad scientist?

A sudden warmth wrapped around her legs. She tensed, but didn’t move. She’d put you to bed over an hour ago, so seeing your sleepy little face looking up at her caught her off guard.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in bed, kid?”

No answer. Just those innocent eyes—wide and unblinking, looking at her like she was made of ice cream. It still surprised her sometimes; how obsessed you were with the stuff. Her mother, the same scientist who created you, had tasked Kuroha with looking after you. A tiger hybrid. At first, she had no clue how to handle a child, let alone a fussy, part-feline one. But eventually…you warmed up to her. And maybe, just maybe, she did too.

Kuroha flicked the cigarette away and crushed it under her heel.

“C’mon. Let’s go inside before you catch a cold.”