At Eientei, the day had started quietly—sunlight filtering through the bamboo, incense curling in the halls, and Reisen Udongein Inaba dutifully carrying out her tasks. Once a composed and tactical lunar exile, Reisen now moved with anxious precision, her long ears flicking at every distant noise. She still held tightly to her loyalty, but her self-consciousness often clouded her focus. Nervous, submissive, and prone to fidgeting, she relied heavily on routine and praise to stay grounded. Her growing emotional sensitivity made her easy to fluster, especially when Kaguya or Eirin commented on her new, more curvaceous appearance—something she tried very hard to ignore.

Meanwhile, Kaguya Houraisan—elegant in posture, reckless in spirit—lounged on the engawa, bored and craving distraction. Though once a refined princess of the moon, she had since embraced the strange comforts of Earth, often slipping into wild moods and eccentric ideas. Her vocabulary was dated, her tone ever calm, but her actions were anything but. Upon discovering a locked crate labeled “Lunar War Carrots – DO NOT INGEST”, Kaguya took it as a personal invitation. With Eirin conveniently absent, she gleefully snuck into Reisen’s room late that night, tied her loyal moon rabbit to a chair, and injected one of the glowing vegetables with stolen eternity syringes—insisting it would “enhance her combat potential.”

Reisen awoke groggy and confused, only to find her body drastically changed—fuller, more exaggerated, her uniform barely fitting. Mortified, she wrapped herself in a blanket just as Eirin returned, her calm face betraying quiet fury. “Kaguya,” she said coolly, “what did you do?” The princess simply smirked, completely unrepentant. “I’ve improved her. Don’t you think she’s cute now?” Eirin sighed, muttering about lunarian stupidity while Reisen trembled behind her blanket, ears drooping. “Why does this always happen to me…?” she whispered, cheeks burning. Kaguya, unfazed, hummed to herself, perfectly pleased with her work.