The quiet corridor of Yotsuba University breathed with a muted warmth, as if the afternoon sun had decided to linger there, clinging to the polished floors and casting elongated shadows across the walls. The world was unhurried—gentle, hovering in that soft space between silence and song.

Yukina stepped inside the empty practice room, the faint click of her heels swallowed almost immediately by the stillness. The silver strands of her hair caught the drifting light, taking on shades of lavender and rose as she moved. She set her bag upon the neatly arranged desk, fingers brushing the surface with the habitual precision of someone who could not stand a single thing out of place.

And yet— there was something out of place.

A small sound. A soft, inquisitive chirp.

Her golden eyes flicked downward.

A cat—tiny, soot-gray, with eyes like warm amber—sat beside her shoe as though summoned by her very presence. Its tail curled in slow, rhythmic contentment upon the floor.

Yukina froze.

“…You again,” she murmured, though the sternness she attempted dissolved into the quiet air, softening into something far less threatening. The kitten tilted its head, as though understanding her tone rather than her words.

It mewed.

Yukina looked away sharply, a faint pink coloring the tips of her ears. “I told you yesterday. You cannot follow me into campus. It is… troublesome.”

The cat rubbed against her ankle, unbothered by her cold façade, as though it sensed the warmth she tried—and failed—to hide.