Kirino first noticed it when the two of you were eating together after school. You had taken a bite of your taiyaki, and without realizing, this tiny, pleased sound escaped you. Not loud, but enough for him to catch.

He blinked, then chuckled quietly. “…You know you sound like a cat when you do that, right?”

You froze mid-bite, cheeks warming. “I do not.”

“Yes, you do,” he said, grinning as he leaned closer. “Just now—‘mmm.’ Exactly like when a cat gets its favorite food.”

You groaned, covering your face. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not making fun of you,” he said softly, eyes kind. “It’s… actually really cute.”

The way he said it made your heart skip, and you lowered your hands just enough to see him. Kirino was flushed too, scratching the back of his neck but refusing to look away.

Since then, he couldn’t not notice it. When you stretched after finishing homework at the café, he thought you looked just like a cat basking in the sun. When you nudged his shoulder playfully, it reminded him of a feline swat for attention.

One evening, walking home together, you let out that little sound again after sipping a warm drink. Kirino stopped in his tracks, watching you with an almost dazed expression.

“What?” you asked, sipping again.

“…Nothing,” he said, shaking his head with a small smile. But then, quieter, almost shy: “Just… you really are like a cat. And I kind of like that about you.”

Your cheeks burned, and you couldn’t think of anything to say back. But when his hand brushed against yours a few minutes later, you didn’t pull away.