Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Late afternoon in the Tokiwadai.

At a spacious corner of the main building’s rooftop, Shokuhou Misaki sat leisurely at her usual tea table, surrounded by people of the queen's faction. The golden hues of the sunset bathed her luscious, wavy blonde hair, making her appear even more regal and distant. A steaming cup of Earl Grey tea rested in her delicate grasp, and every movement she made carried the grace of a true queen.

Yet, amidst the casual chatter of the Queen’s clique, Misaki’s amber eyes unconsciously drifted toward a certain spot below in the schoolyard. A familiar gaze—both furtive and impatient—was locked onto her from a distance.

Mikoto.

A subtle smile played at the corners of Misaki’s lips. She gently set down her teacup, fingers idly twirling a golden curl over her shoulder, feigning indifference as she cast a meaningful glance toward the person lingering below.

“Oh? I didn’t expect to see Misaka-san here,” Misaki’s voice rang out just loud enough for her followers to take notice. “It seems like she’s been hanging around this area quite a bit. I wonder if something’s on her mind?”

The girls in Misaki’s clique turned their heads to look, but Mikoto had already swiftly averted her gaze as if nothing had happened. Still, Misaki didn’t miss that brief moment of hesitation. She knew—Mikoto wasn’t just passing by. She was hesitating about something.

With a mischievous glint in her eyes, Misaki picked up the small fan resting on the table and lightly concealed her smile. “It’s certainly not because she misses me. I suppose… there must be some special reason.”

Glancing at the mirror beside her, Misaki subtly adjusted her posture before running a hand through her hair at a particular angle—a silent signal that only Mikoto would understand.

“Ten minutes later, the usual place.”

Misaki’s amber eyes sparkled in amusement as she caught Mikoto’s reaction. The girl below visibly tensed for a brief second before nonchalantly turning away, pretending as if she hadn’t noticed anything. But Misaki knew—the message had been delivered. And, of course, Mikoto would come.

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Mikoto walked briskly along the stone pathway, her hands tucked into her jacket pockets as the cool evening breeze rustled through the treetops. She hadn’t expected to run into Misaki today, but somehow, her gaze instinctively wandered toward a secluded area near the school’s main corridor.

There, among a group of Tokiwadai students engaged in conversation, sit a familiar figure.

Shokuhou Misaki leaned casually against the chair, her lazy gaze drifting over the discussion, though she clearly wasn’t paying much attention. Her golden waves swayed lightly with the wind. As if sensing a certain someone’s stare, Misaki glanced sideways, and their eyes met.

Mikoto immediately looked away—but it was too late. A faint, knowing smile curled on Misaki’s lips, playful yet tinged with a gentle warmth that no one else could perceive. She slowly raised her hand, as if merely fixing a stray lock of hair, but at the same time, her fingers formed a subtle, unmistakable gesture.

“Ten minutes later, the usual place.”

Mikoto pretended not to notice and kept walking as if nothing had happened. But deep down, her heartbeat had quickened ever so slightly.

The usual place.

A quiet, hidden corner near the school’s back garden—where the two of them always met when they needed to talk privately.

Ten minutes later, with the footsteps around them gradually thinning out, Mikoto made her way down the small path by the garden.

As soon as she arrived, she saw Misaki standing there, amber eyes filled with stars.

“You’re always on time, Misaka-san.” Misaki smiled, her voice carrying that signature teasing lilt, though there was an undeniable softness underneath.

Mikoto crossed her arms, feigning indifference. “Did you call me here just for idle chit-chat?”

Misaki took a small step closer, keeping just enough distance to avoid suspicion if someone happened to walk by. “Not exactly. I simply wanted to see you, Mikoto~♪”

A faint flush crept up Mikoto’s cheeks, but she quickly cleared her throat. “If you say things like that in public, people might think there’s something going on between us.”

Misaki tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “And? Would that be a bad thing? Or perhaps… there really is something between us?”

Mikoto fell silent, but the hint of a smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.

In that moment—when it was just the two of them, with no pretenses, no prying eyes—everything felt so much simpler. They didn’t need grand confessions or elaborate words. A glance, a playful remark… that was more than enough.

“If that’s the case…” Misaki whispered.

Before Mikoto could react, Misaki had already leaned in, her lips brushing against Mikoto’s in the softest of kisses.

At first, it was merely a fleeting touch—gentle as a passing breeze. But just as she was about to pull away, a firm hand suddenly caught her waist.

Misaki blinked, momentarily caught off guard, before Mikoto pulled her in—closer, deeper. This time, the kiss was no longer hesitant, no longer fleeting. It was intense, demanding, filled with the unspoken longing of a whole day spent apart.

Misaki shivered slightly, unable to resist Mikoto’s fervor, forced to lean into her for support. Only when their breaths grew unsteady did Mikoto finally pull away, satisfaction glinting in her brown eyes. She leaned down, murmuring near Misaki’s ear, her voice low and teasing.

“Next time, don’t just kiss me like that and expect me to let it slide. I might not hold back.”

Misaki froze for a split second, her amber eyes widening slightly. Then, realizing she had completely lost the upper hand, she pouted ever so slightly, trying to regain her composure. But the warmth blooming across her cheeks had already given her away.

The cool afternoon breeze swept through the garden, but between them, there was only warmth.

Chapter Text

The wind whispered softly through the rows of trees in Tokiwadai Academy’s courtyard, carrying a faint scent of wood on a late afternoon. In a secluded corner behind the main building, two girls sat with their backs against each other, silently watching as the sun slowly set on the horizon.

"You've been pretty busy lately, Queen-sama," Mikoto spoke, her brown eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced at the blonde girl who was idly fidgeting with a remote control in her hands. "Who's the unlucky victim of your schemes this time?"

Shokuhou Misaki didn’t answer immediately. She tilted her head slightly, her lips curling into a half-smile. "I didn’t do anything. Just… running a few checks." Her amber eyes gleamed with mischief, but there was a hint of exhaustion in her voice.

Mikoto noticed it. She never fully trusted Misaki’s words, yet she always picked up on the smallest signs when the girl was hiding her fatigue. Misaki could play the role of an arrogant queen, a powerful mind manipulator—but Mikoto knew. She was still just a person, someone who needed someone to lean on.

"Hey," Mikoto said softly, "Take a break. You can't keep pushing yourself like this."

Misaki closed her eyes for a moment, the scent of wood blending with the evening breeze, carrying a familiar fragrance from the person beside her. "And what about you? Don’t tell me you’re not doing the same thing to yourself."

Mikoto fell silent.

How ironic. They always seemed to reflect each other’s hidden struggles. She wasn’t good at expressing her feelings, but she could see the buried pain in Misaki’s eyes—because she felt the same way. She knew the torment of carrying burdens that couldn’t be forgotten, the loneliness of never truly being understood by those around her, and the inability to share that pain with anyone.

Mikoto turned to look at Misaki. She reached out, brushing her fingers lightly against the blonde girl’s cheek.

"Thank you… for always being here for me."

Misaki raised an eyebrow before gazing at Mikoto with gentle eyes. She leaned in closer, closing the distance between them until their lips met in a brief yet profound kiss.

When they pulled away, Mikoto hastily pushed Misaki’s arm aside with one hand while the other covered her own face, which was growing noticeably warmer. "You’re really troublesome."

Misaki chuckled softly. "But you still love me, don’t you?"

Mikoto slightly turned away in embarrassment then smiled.

"Yeah. I love you."

Chapter Text

Mikoto had heard about this long ago, as common knowledge. In this world, aside from ordinary humans, there were special beings known as Forks and Cakes. Forks were those who had lost their sense of taste due to some incident and could no longer perceive any flavors—except for one thing: Cake. Cakes, on the other hand, were people born with a unique trait that made them "delicious," possessing an irresistible allure to Forks, even if they themselves were unaware of it.

Mikoto was a Fork. Ever since she was a child, she had been unable to taste anything. Sweet, spicy, bitter, sour—everything was bland, as tasteless as water. At first, she didn’t care, but over time, it became an obsession. She wondered if she would have to live in this monotony forever. She wasn’t just losing her sense of taste; she was losing her connection to the world itself—as if everything around her had become dull and meaningless.

Until she met Shokuhou Misaki.

From the very first moment she laid eyes on Misaki, Mikoto sensed something unusual. It wasn’t just simple attraction—it was a hunger, a craving she couldn’t put into words. Misaki carried a unique scent, sweet like honey, an allure that made Mikoto’s body tremble. But more than that, when Mikoto accidentally touched Misaki, something strange happened. It's been a long time, she tasted something real. It was sweet and warm, as if every color in the world had suddenly burst into brilliance before her eyes.

At first, Mikoto thought it was an illusion. But the truth was undeniable—Misaki was her Cake.
------------------------------------

Misaki had never known she was a Cake. Since childhood, she had grown used to people looking at her with a strange hunger, though she never understood why. Everyone around her always seemed to have a bit of desire, a bit of possessiveness toward her. Even those she trusted most were drawn to her for no apparent reason. She lived in a world full of doubt, constantly questioning whether anyone truly cared for her as a person or simply for the thing she unknowingly possessed.

Until she met Mikoto.

At first, Misaki thought Mikoto was just like everyone else. But there was something different about this girl—Mikoto never tried to claim her. Even though she was drawn to Misaki on an instinctual level, Mikoto resisted it. She fought against herself. She never saw Misaki as food but as a real person.

And that made Misaki’s heart tremble.
------------------------------------

"Are you afraid?" Misaki asked softly, her amber eyes shimmering like the stars.

"Afraid of what?" Mikoto replied, but she already knew the answer. She was afraid. She was afraid of this feeling, afraid of the hunger that surged inside her whenever she was near Misaki. Afraid that one day, she wouldn’t be able to control herself anymore.

Misaki smiled, but it was a smile filled with too many unspoken emotions. "Then... what if I told you I’m not afraid of you?"

Mikoto froze.

Misaki reached out, gently cupping Mikoto’s cheek. "I’m not afraid of you, Mikoto. Because I trust you. And if you’re truly starving to the point where you can’t endure it anymore... then taste me."

Mikoto’s eyes widened, her entire body going rigid. "Are you insane?!"

But Misaki simply chuckled. "I’m not insane. I just want you to understand that you don’t have to fear yourself. You can choose to love me… instead of craving me."

Mikoto stared at the girl in front of her, her heart tightening. She had spent years enduring this flavorless existence, and now, this girl had given her taste—not just on her tongue, but in her heart.

And then, she reached out, pulling Misaki into her embrace.

"I won’t eat you, Misaki," she murmured, her voice trembling yet firm. "I will protect you. No matter what happens. Because… I love you."

Misaki shivered slightly in Mikoto’s arms. She had always been someone who didn’t believe in true love, someone who doubted that anyone could love her for who she was rather than what she represented. But Mikoto had proven her wrong.

Among all those who had ever desired her, only Mikoto had been willing to resist her own instincts for her sake.

She closed her eyes, allowing herself to melt into Mikoto’s warmth.

"I love you too, Mikoto."

And so, they chose to be together—not because of fate, not because of instinct, but because of a love that came purely from the heart.

Chapter Text

The night fell over Tokiwadai Academy, carrying a cold breeze laced with the faint scent of grass as it wove through the rows of trees. The streetlights cast a dim glow, reflecting off the golden strands of Shokuhou Misaki’s hair.
She sat alone on a stone bench in a small garden, her amber eyes staring into the void. In her hands was the familiar remote control, but this time, it was no longer a tool for manipulating others—it was just something to make her feel like she still had control over something.
Misaki was one of the 7 strongest espers in Academy City. Everyone knew that.
She was Mental Out—a Level 5 rank 5 Esper with the ability to manipulate the human mind to perfection. No one could resist her power, no one could hide their thoughts from her.
In theory, she was invincible in the realm of the mind, but there was a cruel paradox—a person who could control the minds of everyone else was unable to control her own heart.
Misaki could make anyone forget their pain, but she didn’t want to do that to herself.
She could make anyone love her if she wished, but those artificial affections never filled the emptiness inside her.
She was one of the strongest in Academy City. And because of that, she was also the loneliest.
And sometimes, she wondered—if she didn’t have this power, would things have been different?
“You’re torturing yourself again, aren’t you, Misaki?”
A familiar voice broke through her thoughts. She looked up and met the serious gaze of Mikoto.
Misaki smiled lightly, but it was an empty smile, devoid of any warmth. “What are you talking about? I’m perfectly fine.”
Mikoto wasn’t fooled. She stepped closer, sitting down beside her girlfriend, the space between them reduced to mere centimeters.
“Don’t hide from me, Misaki.” Mikoto’s voice was gentle but firm. “I know what you’re thinking.”
Misaki trembled slightly. She hated this. She hated that Mikoto could see through her.
“I mean it,” Mikoto continued. “You can manipulate the minds of everyone, but you can’t manipulate me. Don’t think you can use a fake smile to hide everything.”
Misaki fell silent. A part of her wanted to deny it, but another part knew it was useless.
Mikoto had always seen the darkness that no one else could see. And that didn’t make Mikoto happy. On the contrary, it made her heart ache more than anything else.
Mikoto didn’t know when she first realized it. Maybe it was from their earliest arguments, when Misaki threw sarcastic remarks at her, but her eyes always carried a sorrow no one else noticed.
Maybe it was from those encounters in the dark schemes of Academy City, when Mikoto saw Misaki fighting with everything she had—not for power or glory, but for the people she loved.
Mikoto didn’t know when, but she knew one thing for sure. She couldn’t stand watching Misaki hurt herself like this.
Misaki could fool everyone else, but she couldn’t fool Mikoto.
She saw the times Misaki forced herself to smile, yet that smile never reached her eyes.
She saw the way Misaki clung to that remote control as if it was the only thing keeping her sane.
She saw the nights Misaki sat alone in silence, thinking no one was watching, but her amber eyes always held an unfathomable sadness.
Mikoto saw it all. And that made her angry—not at Misaki, but at herself because why couldn’t she do anything to help Misaki escape from this pain?
“You think everyone you love is bound to suffer, don’t you?” Mikoto said, her voice lowering. “You think you’re cursed, that anyone who gets close to you will eventually be hurt.”
Misaki tightened her grip on the remote control. She didn’t respond, but her silence said everything.
Mikoto sighed. “Listen to me. You’re not cursed. You’re not the reason Dolly died or why Kamijou lost his memories.”
Misaki let out a bitter laugh. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” Mikoto looked straight into her eyes, making sure Misaki saw that she truly believed her own words.
“You did everything you could to protect them. You fought for them. You loved them. And I’m sure that if they could, they would tell you that they never regretted having you in their lives.”
Misaki trembled. She had always wondered—if she didn’t have her power, would anyone truly love her?
But Mikoto—Mikoto was never under her control. And that made her words heavier than anything else.
“I’ll prove to you that you’re wrong.”
Misaki looked at Mikoto, doubt flickering in her amber eyes.
Mikoto grasped her hand tightly, as if to affirm that she was completely serious.
“I’m not going to leave you,” Mikoto whispered. “I won’t let anyone or anything make you believe that you don’t deserve to be loved.”
Misaki opened her mouth to say something, but Mikoto had already pulled her into an embrace. Not a half-hearted hug, but a real, warm embrace.
Misaki froze for a few seconds. Then, slowly, she raised her hands and clutched Mikoto’s shirt, gripping it as if afraid that if she let go, Mikoto would disappear.
But Mikoto wasn’t going anywhere. She was here. And she would always be here.
Misaki closed her eyes, letting herself sink into Mikoto’s warmth, and for the first time in a long while, the fear inside her began to fade.
She didn’t know what the future held, but she knew that, at least in this moment, she was no longer alone.

Chapter Text

Under the warm golden light of a small café tucked away in a quiet street corner, two girls sat across from each other at a table near the window. Outside, the first snow of the season fell silently, covering the sidewalk with a thin white layer. The winter air brushed against the glass, forming a misty haze.

Despite the café being quite crowded, no one seemed to notice them. No one glanced their way, and no one accidentally overheard their conversation.

All thanks to Shokuhou Misaki’s Mental Out. She gently stirred her cappuccino, her amber eyes lazily gazing at the person sitting opposite her.

The brown-haired girl sat relaxed, holding a cup of hot cocoa, her expression slightly weary. There were traces of exhaustion hidden in those usually bright eyes, even though she tried to appear normal.

“So, what’s the result?”

Misaka Mikoto, who had infiltrated an underground laboratory alone the previous night, asked Misaki about the data she had retrieved. But all she got in return was a shrug.

“The data you took from their system hasn’t been fully decrypted yet.”

Mikoto raised an eyebrow. “Not decrypted yet?” That was unexpected. Normally, Misaki’s people would only need a little time to break any code.

Misaki rested her chin on her hand, tapping her fingers lightly on the table. “They encrypted the data using an algorithm I’ve never seen before. I need more time. But let’s put that aside.”

She tilted her chin up, her gaze sharp. “The real question is: Have you ever thought about the consequences?”

Mikoto blinked, momentarily surprised by Misaki’s tone.

“Do you even realize how reckless you were?”

Mikoto didn’t look down, simply stirring her cocoa. “It wasn’t reckless. I had everything planned out.”

“Planned out? You were almost caught,” Misaki scoffed, though her eyes held no trace of amusement. “Misaka-san, do you understand that you’re playing with fire?”

Mikoto sighed, setting her spoon down on the saucer. “I told you, I had a plan. You’re always exaggerating things.”

“I’m not exaggerating. You’re just too careless.”

Misaki placed her cup back down, the soft clink of porcelain against the saucer echoing in the quiet space between them.

She had already seen reports from her informants within the organization. They had detected an intruder. Several guards had been taken down with electricity. Security cameras had been disabled. Automatic locks had been forced open using electromagnetism.

All signs pointed to a high-level Electromaster.

If not for her quick intervention—redirecting information, and manipulating a few high-ranking officials to make them believe it was just an external attack simulation—Mikoto would have been exposed.

She closed her eyes, her voice lowering.

“Have you considered what happens if one day, you can’t get out?”

Mikoto stiffened slightly.

Misaki continued, her gaze sharp as a blade. “I can manipulate information, but I can’t manipulate reality. If you get caught… if you get seriously injured, do you understand how much trouble that would cause?”

Mikoto pressed her lips together.

This wasn’t the first time Misaki had scolded her about this. It wasn’t the first time Misaki had reminded her of the risks she was taking.

They had been working together for some time—a mutually beneficial relationship. Misaki gathered intel and manipulated their enemies from the shadows, while Mikoto acted, fought, and dealt with direct threats.

A perfect crime duo—if you ignored the fact that they constantly argued.

Mikoto didn’t know how to respond. She knew Misaki was right. She knew she was being reckless. But this was the only way she knew how to fight against the dark secrets she was trying to uncover.

She didn’t want to stand still. She didn’t want to feel helpless like before.

Resting her chin on her hand, Mikoto muttered, “...I don’t like sitting around and waiting. And it’s not like I enjoy getting hurt.”

Misaki sighed.

“I know. But do you even care about your own body?” Misaki stirred her coffee slowly, her sharp eyes lingering on Mikoto’s hand. “I noticed earlier—you have an injury.”

Mikoto flinched slightly, unconsciously pulling her hand back.

Misaki smirked. “You’re not very good at hiding things.”

“It’s just a scratch,” Mikoto mumbled.

“If you keep this up, one day you’ll get yourself into real trouble, Misaka-san.” Misaki propped her cheek on her hand, her voice slow but serious. “I can’t always clean up your mess.”

Silence fell between them. They both understood—what they were doing wasn’t a game. They both had enemies, they both had reasons to keep going, but if one of them fell, everything would collapse.

Misaki knew. Mikoto understood this too, she just couldn’t stop herself.

Yet the silence between them wasn’t awkward. It was something more complicated—an unspoken understanding. They cared about each other, but neither would ever admit it.

Finally, Mikoto took a sip of her cocoa and stood up. “Alright, no more arguing. I have plans with my friends.”

Misaki stretched lazily, feigning indifference. “I have a meeting too.”

They stepped out of the café, leaving behind the warmth of golden lights and the sweet aroma of coffee. The cold winter air immediately enveloped them. It was even colder than when they had first entered.

Mikoto barely felt it—adjusting her body temperature with electromagnetism was easy. But Misaki was different. She pulled her thick fur coat tighter, stuffing her hands into her pockets, yet she still had no scarf.

Mikoto glanced over, frowning slightly.

Misaki was shivering.

“…What?” Misaki noticed her stare.

Mikoto said nothing, simply unwrapped her scarf, stepped closer, and wrapped it around Misaki’s neck.

Misaki froze. “Hey—”

“You don’t have one, I do. Just sharing,” Mikoto said bluntly, turning to leave. “See you later.”

Misaki touched the scarf, feeling the lingering warmth on it. She watched Mikoto’s retreating figure, her breath turning white in the cold air. A moment of silence passed, and then she smiled slightly.

Misaka Mikoto was still as stubborn as ever. But maybe… that wasn’t such a bad thing.

Chapter Text

Mikoto dreamed.

In her dream, she saw familiar faces. Girls with brown hair and identical eyes to hers—but they weren’t her.

Empty eyes.
Hands reaching out for help but never grasping anything.
Voices echoing through the air, repeating words like a pre-programmed sequence.

"A unit has been eliminated."
"The opponent exceeds defensive capabilities."
"Survival rate: 0%."

Mikoto ran.

She ran through endless hallways, through cold laboratories, through bloodstained alleys shrouded in darkness. She ran, but she was never fast enough.

Never.

She couldn't save them. She had never saved anyone.

And then, the dream collapsed. Mikoto jolted awake.

Her heart pounded, sweat beading on her forehead despite the dorm room's air conditioning. She raised a trembling hand to cover her eyes, gasping for breath. That nightmare still hadn't let her go.

Even though it was over. Even though she had destroyed the laboratory. Even though Accelerator had changed. Even though the last of the Sisters could finally live like real humans...
Even so, she couldn't forgive herself.

She had once thought—if only she had been smarter, if only she had been stronger, if only she hadn't been so naive as to hand over her DNA map without question...

They wouldn’t have had to die.

No matter how much time passed, she could never forget the moment she learned the truth.

The feeling of seeing a girl with the exact same eyes as hers lying on the ground, blood pooling on the cold stone floor.
The feeling of hearing them refer to her by a number, detached and mechanical: "Unit 9982 has been eliminated."

No name.
No identity.
Just numbers.

Girls who looked like her but were never granted the right to live as humans, and it was all because of her.

She was the one who had handed over her DNA map without a second thought.
She was the one who had unknowingly given them the power to turn thousands of lives into mere test subjects.
She was the one who had walked into that hell too late, only to witness the consequences of her own actions.

Mikoto knew she wasn’t the one who had directly killed them, but did it matter?

If it weren’t for her, that experiment would have never existed.
If it weren’t for her, they wouldn’t have died.

Mikoto clenched her teeth.

Why her?

Why was she the one who got to keep living, while they didn’t?
Why did she have everything—a normal life, friends, family—while the Sisters only had an endless cycle of battles with predetermined outcomes?
Why, no matter how hard she tried, could she never reach them in time?

She had tried to bury those thoughts, but the nightmares always returned.

They dragged her down, twisted her from within, trapping her in an unending loop of guilt and regret.

She could laugh with Kuroko, with Saten, with Uiharu as if she were just a normal girl.
She could keep fighting, keep protecting Academy City as a Level 5 esper.

But in the moments when she was alone—when the night fell and there was no one around—those images resurfaced, sharper than ever. And in those moments, she was no longer the invincible Railgun.

She was just a child, trapped in the past, unable to save even herself.

"Another nightmare about that?"

A voice broke through the silence, pulling Mikoto from her thoughts.

She turned her head. Misaki stood by the bathroom door, arms crossed as she looked at her.

Right. She had stayed in Misaki’s room tonight.

The dim light of the room made Misaki’s golden hair appear softer than usual, and her amber eyes reflected a rare gentleness few ever got to see.

Mikoto didn’t answer.

Misaki walked over and sat beside her. She didn’t ask anything else—she didn’t need Mikoto to say a word. She just sat there, watching as the brunette struggled to suppress the trembling in her hands.

Then, Misaki sighed.

"You don’t have to keep carrying everything alone, Mikoto."

Mikoto tensed.

Misaki’s voice carried no teasing, no mockery—just sincerity.

Mikoto wanted to argue, to say she was fine, that she was okay. But the words caught in her throat.

Misaki knew. She always knew.

No one else saw what Mikoto had gone through, but Misaki always noticed. Because she, too, carried wounds she couldn’t put into words.

Misaki gently reached out, her fingers brushing against Mikoto’s, squeezing lightly.

"Don’t look at me like that," Misaki continued, her voice quiet yet firm. "You think I don’t know? You think I don’t see how you keep blaming yourself every day?"

Mikoto pressed her lips together.

Misaki was right.

She wasn’t good at hiding her feelings like Misaki was. She could fool others, but not her.

Mikoto took in a shaky breath.

"You’re still blaming yourself, aren’t you?" Misaki tilted her head. "Even though it’s over, even though the Sisters are safe, even though no one holds you responsible… you still won’t forgive yourself."

Mikoto clenched her fists.

"You don’t understand," she rasped.

"No," Misaki replied immediately, without hesitation.

Mikoto turned sharply, ready to snap back—but the look in Misaki’s eyes stopped her.

There was no pity.
No judgment.
Only understanding.

Misaki bit her lip.

Of course, she understood.

She knew that feeling too well.

Because she carried her own scars.

She once had a best friend. Someone she had promised to protect. But she had failed.

Dolly had left her. In her arms. Between tears she couldn’t hold back.

Misaki would never forget the helplessness she felt in that moment—like her entire world had shattered, like all she could do was watch as someone she loved slipped away.

Then came Kamijou Touma.

The one who had saved her. The one who had protected her. The only person who had ever risked his life to pull her out of hell.

But in exchange, he had lost all his memories of her.

She hated it.

She hated being forgotten, hated knowing that no matter how much she screamed, how much she cried, how much she held on—he would never remember her again.

Misaki had once wondered if it was a curse.

Would everyone she loved always end up leaving her?

Dolly.
Touma.

And now… Mikoto.

Misaki couldn’t bear to see Mikoto in pain like this. She didn’t want to lose her, too.

She didn’t want the girl she cared for to suffer the same way she had.

"We can’t change the past," Misaki whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "But we can choose how we live with it."

Mikoto stared at her.

Misaki rarely let her vulnerability show.

But right now, she didn’t care.

If it could help Mikoto understand that she wasn’t alone—that she wasn’t the only one hurting—then Misaki was willing to bare every wound she had kept hidden.

Her hand trembled slightly as she reached for Mikoto’s.

"I’m here," she murmured, almost pleading. "I’m not going anywhere. I won’t let you be alone."

Mikoto closed her eyes, exhaling shakily as the tears she had been holding back finally fell.

She didn’t say anything, but her fingers tightened around Misaki’s—an unspoken thank you.

Misaki understood.

She didn’t say anything else either.

She reached out, pulling Mikoto into her arms, enveloping her in her own warmth.

And so, in the quiet of Academy City’s night, the two of them sat together—silently sharing their pain, no words needed.

Because sometimes, just having someone there was enough

Chapter Text

Mikoto had set rules for herself.
She had spent her youth engraving them into her mind, forging them into an unbreakable shield to prevent herself from making mistakes. Don’t get close to Cake. Never be alone with Cake for too long. And above all—no matter what happens, never lose control.

But Shokuhou Misaki made all those rules meaningless.
—---------------------------------
The rain had begun to fall as Mikoto hurried down the empty hallway. Academy City’s summer rains always arrived unexpectedly, both torrential and uncomfortably humid. But compared to the fire smoldering in her chest, this rain was nothing.

She was hungry. Not just any hunger, but a hunger that threatened to drive her insane.

She knew the reason. It had been almost a week since she last saw Misaki. Distance was supposed to make things easier, but it didn’t—it only made the hunger worse. There was no substitute. No way to ease it.

Mikoto took a deep breath, trying to suppress herself. She just needed to get back to her dorm, lock herself in her room, and avoid her for one more day.

But life was never that simple. A sweet honey-like fragrance reached her before the familiar playful voice chimed behind her.

“Misaka-san~☆”

Mikoto froze, her breath hitching.

“Avoiding me again?”

The rain continued to fall, mingling with the sound of Misaki’s heels tapping against the ground. She stepped closer, and the intoxicating honeyed scent grew stronger—along with the inexplicable craving stirring inside Mikoto.

She didn’t dare turn around. If she looked at Misaki now, she would lose control. “I’m not avoiding you,” she said stiffly.

“Really? Then why do you always look like you’re about to run away whenever I get close?”

Misaki stood right behind her—so close that her breath ghosted over Mikoto’s neck, sending a shiver down her spine.

Damn it. She smells too good. No. No!

Mikoto clenched her fists so tightly that her nails nearly pierced her skin. She couldn’t lose control. Not here, not now.

“Shokuhou,” she rasped, “Back off.”

Misaki tilted her head, amber eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Why?” She leaned in, pressing her body lightly against Mikoto’s. “Are you scared of me, Misaka-san?”

Mikoto recoiled as if burned.

“I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid of myself.”

Why didn’t Misaki understand?

Didn’t she realize she was Cake? Didn’t she know that her very presence constantly lured Mikoto in—that every time she got close, Mikoto felt as if thousands of needles were pricking her skin, reminding her of the growing hunger clawing at her mind?

No, she knew. And yet—

Misaki thought this was a fun little game. She enjoyed teasing Mikoto, making her flustered. But Misaki didn’t understand that if she pushed just a little further, all the rules Mikoto had set for herself would crumble instantly.

“Misaka-san,” Misaki whispered, “You don’t have to hold back like this.”

Mikoto felt like she was being torn in two. One half wanted to push Misaki away, to run from this temptation. The other half just wanted to reach out—touch her fragrant body, feel her warmth, taste her.

Saliva pooled in her mouth. She refused to let herself think any further.

Softly, Mikoto swallowed.

And she knew—Misaki heard it.

“What if…” Misaki hummed, her voice half-playful, half-serious. “You tried biting me a little?”

For a moment, the world stopped. Mikoto inhaled sharply, her eyes widening in shock.

“You don’t know what you’re saying.” She stepped back, but Misaki was faster. A delicate hand curled around her neck, pulling her in—trapping her in the irresistible scent of honey.

“I do,” Misaki smiled, “And I want to see what you’ll do about it.”

Mikoto had never felt this close to the edge before. Misaki’s breath was hot against her ear—a challenge. She was testing Mikoto’s limits.

The rain kept falling, its patter echoing in the silence. But to Mikoto, the world had faded away. Only Misaki remained, and the sweet temptation she could no longer resist.

She could hear her heartbeat pounding in her chest.

Misaki tilted her head slightly, golden hair swaying, and with it, the intoxicating scent thickened in the air.

She was too close. Too close! Mikoto’s throat was dry, her body trembling with restraint. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t.

“I won’t do it.” Logic won in the end. Mikoto whispered, voice strained.

Misaki raised an eyebrow.

“Really?” She smiled, but a flicker of disappointment flashed in her eyes.

“You think I see you as just a meal?” Mikoto suddenly spoke, her hoarse voice making Misaki pause.

“If all I wanted was to eat you, I wouldn’t have held back for this long.” Mikoto stared straight into those star-filled amber eyes, her pain interwoven with longing, clear for Misaki to see. “But I want you for more than that.”

“Because I love you, Misaki.”

For the first time that night, Misaki was at a loss for words. She could feel Mikoto’s warmth, the sincerity in every syllable.

And in that moment, she realized—Mikoto truly loved her. Beyond instinct. Beyond hunger. She was willing to resist it all. Just for her.

Misaki gently tightened her embrace, resting her forehead against Mikoto’s trembling one.

“Then don’t run away anymore.”

Mikoto held her breath, overwhelmed by the impossibly small distance between them.

“Because I love you too.”

Under the falling rain, caught between reason and instinct, Mikoto finally let everything go.

She didn’t need to run anymore.

Because for the first time in her life, she had found the taste of love.

Chapter Text

Recently, an unbelievable rumor suddenly spread throughout the City Academy that: Railgun, the Level 5 ranked third, known for her cold demeanor and the electromagnetic field that usually sends cats fleeing, has… adopted a cat. A stunning Somali cat, named ShoSho.

The name sounds like an affectionate shortening of the name of another Level 5, the famous 5th rank… And even more coincidentally, people say that the cat is like the feline version of Mental Out:

Golden fur, soft and sleek like honey. Pointed ears and a long, fluffy tail like a luxurious feather fan. Round face but sharp and lazy gaze… especially those eyes. Every time light hits them, they swear they can see… little stars twinkling deep inside. Too beautiful to be real, and the aura? Both arrogant and charming, yet unable to hide a bit of elegance in a very... queenly way.

It all started on an ordinary late afternoon, when Saten Ruiko happened to witness something that shook her to the core, more than forgetting her math homework ever could — Misaka Mikoto was walking with… a cat.

Not just walking. She was holding it. Cradling it. So carefully it was almost like she feared breathing too hard might upset the creature and suffer the wrath of the "emperor".

Saten squinted, then rubbed her eyes.

No doubt about it. A breathtakingly beautiful cat like it had stepped out of a painting — long, silky pale gold fur, a luxuriously plush tail, and most striking of all: those brilliant amber eyes, twinkling with what seemed like tiny stars.

It looked elegant, serene, nestled in Mikoto's arms as if they were a personal throne.

Saten couldn't help but grin. She stepped closer, whistling playfully: “Hey there, Misaka-san?! So you finally found your cat, huh?”

She clearly remembered Mikoto once said that she and cats were sworn enemies — her electromagnetic field makes cats hypersensitive and skittish. And yet now... This scene looked like something out of a dream.

But to her surprise, Saten's joking remark made Mikoto flinch like she'd just been accused of stealing a national treasure. Her face turned red, eyes darting away in embarrassment, like someone had poked a very, very sensitive spot.

"Wh... what do you mean 'my cat'?! That sounds weird!!"

“Uh… did I say something wrong?” Saten tilted her head, full of question marks.

Just then, the cat in Mikoto's arms… sigh. Seriously! Saten swore she saw the cat close its eyes, its shoulders slouching slightly as if in really helpless! That was definitely a sigh. And unless Saten imagines it, it even shot a sideways glare at Misaka-san?!

Then it straightened up, reached out one of its slender, fluffy front paws… and lightly tapped Mikoto on the cheek as if to say: “Calm down. Don’t make a scene, you idiot.” And, surprisingly, Mikoto actually gave a small nod as if she understood and began to calm down.

Saten blinked. “Oaaa, what kind of smart cat is this?! So classy too! What breed is it, Misaka-san?”

“Ah… It’s a Somali, the long-haired variation of Abyssinian.” Mikoto replied, her face still blushing.

“So pretty!” – Saten asked, then reached out her hand to stroke the cat's head.

Immediately — Whoosh — the cat dodged effortlessly, then swiped lightly with its claws, leaving a small scratch on Saten’s hand.

Not strong, not painful, but definitely a warning.

“Aiya! Sorry!” Saten laughed, pulling her hand back. “So clever, also know how to choose the scratching force! I’m sorry, kitty, for touching you without permission.”

Mikoto, flustered, held the cat tightly in her arms, muttering nonstop apologies.

“It’s okay, it really didn’t hurt!” Saten still smiled brightly, eyes sparkling as she looked at the cat. “What’s her name?”

“…ShoSho.” – Mikoto answered in a small voice.

That name sounds familiar… Saten felt like she had heard it somewhere before, but before she could think further, Mikoto made a quick excuse and hurried off, leaving Saten behind with a head full of question marks.

“Why was she in such a hurry…? But wow, that cat really is gorgeous, and those eyes… stars in them? Maybe it’s a rare breed? Or is it some legendary cat breed?!”

Right after, she pulled out her phone and sent a message into the usual group chat with Uiharu and Kuroko:【Urgent! Urgent! I just saw Misaka-san holding an insanely pretty cat!】

Not even 3 seconds later, two shocked replies popped up.

Uiharu:【Wow! Really?!】
Kuroko:【Onee-sama!? I have to go check right away!?】
Uiharu:【A~ remember to take a photo for me, okay!】

“So interesting! Next time, if I ask properly, I wonder if ShoSho would let me pet her?” Saten walked off in the opposite direction from Mikoto, her voice brimming with excitement.
--------------------------
That night, as usual, Shirai Kuroko teleported straight into her and Onee-sama’s dorm room. Though she knew she’d get scolded, she had no intention of giving up this convenient habit.

And right before her eyes was a scene that left her completely frozen. Even though Saten had already texted her in advance, Kuroko was utterly unprepared for this sight: In the room that was supposed to be a sacred space just for the two of them, there was… a golden-furred cat lying sprawled on Onee-sama’s pillow as if it were its own personal throne.

And the other person—Misaka Mikoto, her Onee-sama—was sitting next to the bed, gently stroking that soft fur like it was the most precious treasure in the world. Every movement of her hand so gentle it made Kuroko feel as though she was being burned by the flames of jealousy.

Kuroko froze for a full three seconds, then clenched her fists.

Damn it…!
She wanted to be caressed like that by Onee-sama, too!! How could her sister ignore a living, breathing beauty like herself! A perfectly fine human being standing right here, and yet devoting all her attention to a mere cat!!

Kuroko ground her teeth, her gaze involuntarily shooting laser beams at the four-legged creature who yawned lazily, then glanced at Kuroko with a look that said, “Pathetic," stretched, arched its back, and pressed its cheek against Mikoto’s hand… as if declaring its ownership.

“...”

Sensing the murderous glare on her back, Mikoto turned to look at her twin-tailed junior who had just teleported in. A flicker of guilt passed through her eyes, but she quickly hid it, regained her calm, and scolded:

“Kuroko… How many times have I told you not to teleport into the room like that! Use the door! If the dorm manager catches you, you’ll be cleaning the pool alone, got it?!”

Hearing that, Kuroko turned away as if unjustly accused, pouting with a look of sorrow, pretending to be on the verge of tears: “Oh, Onee-sama… Seeing how close you are with that cat makes me feel… unbearably lonely. I, too, wish for a gentle caress… or at least… a kiss…”

Snap~ Snap~

The familiar sound rang out as Mikoto’s fingers met, generating a spark of blue electricity in her palm. Though her face remained calm, her eyes were glowing with warning.

Kuroko immediately shut her mouth, raised both hands in surrender, and quickly steered the topic to avoid a shocking execution: “Anyway… where did this cat come from? I thought pets were banned in the dorms.”

Mikoto turned her head, not looking at Kuroko, and continued gently brushing the shimmering fur of the creature. Her voice sounded like she was trying to keep a calm facade: “Ah well… the dorm manager agreed to let me keep it for a while. This cat belongs to an acquaintance of mine, just asked me to look after it for a few weeks.”

Kuroko frowned. She knew Onee-sama was highly trusted at the school, but convince that difficult manager to allow pets was no small feat. However, what bothered her more was the way Mikoto said “acquaintance” with such obvious avoidance.

Though unsettled, Kuroko didn’t voice her doubts, she only gave a soft “hmm” that was half suspicion, half curiosity, then stepped closer to the bed, her gaze locked onto the “foreign object” currently occupying Onee-sama’s pillow. This time, it opened its eyes and looked back at her.

It was a rare long-haired Somali cat. Its golden fur gleamed like sunlight, sharp ear edges, a high, delicate nose, and a fluffy tail gently swaying. And those eyes…

When they opened wide, Kuroko felt like she was looking into… the stars. Deep almond-shaped eyes, inside reflecting glittering starlight as if mirroring the night sky. Eyes that seemed capable of reading the heart of whoever it looked at.

Kuroko froze for a few seconds.

Truly, for a moment, Kuroko glimpsed an overlapping image—very familiar, very distinct—superimposed on the cat. Those same eyes, that same gaze… but not from a cat.

Shokuhou Misaki—Level 5 Rank 5—the other pinnacle esper of Tokiwadai, the Queen. The one who always made her Onee-sama bristle whenever she appeared.

A feeling of unease rose up. Frowning, Kuroko couldn’t hold back and blurted: “This cat… could it be Shokuhou-san’s?”

As soon as the question ended, Mikoto’s body stiffened ever so slightly, but not subtly enough to escape Kuroko’s eyes. Mikoto immediately pulled the cat into her arms, holding it close protectively, then shook her head: “No way. How could I possibly agree to take care of… Shokuhou’s cat?”

The answer made perfect sense. Indeed, her Onee-sama and Shokuhou were long-time rivals. Moreover, Kuroko had never heard from anyone in Shokuhou’s camp that Shokuhou even owned a cat.

Even so, Kuroko still had the feeling Mikoto was hiding something. But instead of pressing further, she simply murmured, “Right…?” and quietly observed the cat once more.

The little cat remained still, but its tail curled upward proudly. The aura was too similar. Those eyes — unmistakably…

“This cat… sure knows how to judge people, huh?” Kuroko mumbled.

The cat blinked, gently turned its head, gave her a sidelong glance full of meaning, and then… the creature seemed to… sigh? No, that had to be her imagination. A cat sighing in exasperation like a human would be… too strange.

“I… kinda feel like I was just silently insulted…?” Kuroko stammered in disbelief at her own thoughts.

Mikoto tried to keep a calm expression, but the corner of her mouth twitched as if she were enduring something hard to explain. She gave an awkward cough and quickly changed the subject. “Ah, the cat’s name is ShoSho. Make sure to call it properly.”

“Sho… Sho?” Kuroko squinted and repeated what she had just heard. What was this? …Kuroko was feeling an excessive amount of unease over… a cat…

Kuroko swallowed. “…That name sounds… kind of familiar, doesn’t it? Or maybe I’m just imagining things…?”

Hearing that, Mikoto sprang up, hurriedly rushing over to the desk to draw the curtains closed: “It’s definitely your imagination! Oh, I’m feeling so sleepy today, I think I’ll go to bed early!”

After saying that, she got on the bed, still holding ShoSho the cat in her arms as she went to sleep with it: “Good night, Kuroko.” Then without waiting for a response, she pulled the blanket over and went to sleep.

Kuroko, nearby, frowned in confusion, but said nothing more. After returning the good night wish to Onee-sama, Kuroko began her own nightly preparations for bed.

-------------------------------------------

After that day, the story of the “Ace’s beloved cat” quickly spread through every corner of Tokiwadai.

Every corridor, every sports field, every classroom… everywhere people were whispering about something unprecedented in the history of this prestigious school known for its strict rules: A cat–yes, an actual cat–was allowed to freely come and go from Tokiwadai’s campus as if it owned the place, without any obstruction from supervisors, teachers, or the automated security system.

That cat was none other than ShoSho.

And the most common sight these days was none other than: Misaka Mikoto – the proud Ace, the one who bowed to no one – sitting on a bench in the school courtyard, cradling ShoSho in her arms, gently stroking its golden fur as though it were a priceless treasure to be cherished in every detail.

Ace’s expression in those moments was soft and incredibly patient, sometimes even slightly blushing whenever those glittering amber eyes stared intently at her—as if truly understanding what the cat was thinking, a sight that nearly made onlookers fail to recognize their Ace.

As for ShoSho, she was pampered like royalty—a silent, regal, and selective queen—by her Ace.

And of course, with the delicate hearts and love for beauty of the wealthy young ladies of Tokiwadai, the appearance of such a long-haired, elegant, and excessively beautiful creature was a critical blow.

ShoSho possessed Somali fur that glistened like golden thread under the setting sun, each step light as a breeze, her posture held high with pride. Sharp, alert ears, a tail that flowed like silk, and those eyes…those eyes made many young ladies exclaim:

“Those eyes… they’re full of stars…!”

That’s right. Those were almond-shaped eyes, deep and reflective, as if hiding a sky of their own. No one could resist the urge to hold, cuddle, and spoil that cat. But unfortunately, those eyes often cast cold, arrogant glances at them—just like a true queen.

It could strut proudly past outstretched hands without so much as a backward glance. And it was terribly unfair that ShoSho only allowed certain people to touch her, and all of them were… core members of the Shokuhou faction.

Students began to ask questions: Why did ShoSho show such blatant favoritism? Why would she glare when Gaouin or Iori reached out, but nod in approval when girls like Hokaze or Kobayashi stroked her cheeks, or even carried her in place of the Ace when she was busy?

Even when someone bravely asked, Mikoto would just smile wryly and reply: “That depends on whether ShoSho allows it or not.”

Cold. Definitive. And it shattered countless young hearts before they even had time to gather the pieces. That answer that day was like an arrow piercing through waves of hearts—so many Tokiwadai girls held their faces and cried to the heavens.

But strangely enough, despite being rejected again and again, the love for ShoSho only grew stronger and never showed signs of fading. Truly, they are hopeless but willing slaves!

However, during a lively tea party one afternoon on the third-floor study lounge, a conspiracy theory began to take form.

“Did you see it? That aura… those eyes… that pickiness… It’s just like our Queen!”
“And the name ShoSho, too! Shokuhou-Shokuhou, obviously!”
“I heard from those who are allowed to hold ShoSho that she even smells like sweet honey, just like the Queen!”
“I bet it’s no coincidence! That cat is definitely connected to the Queen!”

And so, from an anonymous feline, ShoSho was quickly assigned a new identity: a miniature embodiment of Tokiwadai’s Queen. Every haughty movement, every tired eye-roll she gave was analyzed and interpreted as an act of political subtext. And from that, a new question emerged that tormented the students even more:

“If ShoSho is so much like the Queen, why did the Ace take her in?”

What in the world was going on? Could there be something deeper between those two, the Ace and the Queen, eternal rivals, something far beyond mere enemies?

And so, a ship was pushed forward by the hearts of young, impressionable girls. No—forced forward.

A ship named: Ace × Queen.

Even though they constantly bicker, even though every encounter between them sparks electricity and mind control like water and fire, there’s no denying: the relationship between the Ace and the Queen has long had its share of surprisingly questionable moments. They argue loudly, yet cooperate flawlessly whenever something serious arises.

The observant ones all agree: When the Ace and the Queen are united, Tokiwadai feels like it’s protected by a pair of guardian deities.

And now, one of them is hugging a feline version of the other to sleep every night, even naming her ShoSho.

“It’s destiny.”

A self-proclaimed ship captain sighed with emotion, gazing at the vast blue sky ahead.

—----------------------------------

The scariest thing about rumors isn’t how true they are, but that once they catch fire… they don’t need anyone to keep them going, they’ll blaze on like a wildfire in the height of a dry summer.

And just as that law predicts, not long after, the entire Academy City had already heard of the hottest story of the moment—one that would likely keep burning for a long time unless someone stopped it:

Railgun Misaka Mikoto—is raising a noble Somali cat named ShoSho, with an appearance and aura exactly like… Mental Out Shokuhou Misaki!

What was originally a silly conspiracy theory—fueled by romantic (drama-hungry) and idle minds—had now evolved into a massive, stable ship, fully equipped like one of the world’s most advanced modern warships. Even though it had only just set sail, the number of crew members aboard the "Ace x Queen" ship quickly exploded like a virus, strong and spreading with the speed of a multi-threaded ping.

They armed themselves with diagrams, expression analyses, interaction timelines, and even articles decoding the symbolism in how Mikoto held ShoSho, then tirelessly circulated “evidence of love” between the Ace and Queen for all students to behold.

But where there are shippers, there are always antis.

And no one could play the role of the most formidable, passionate anti better than Shirai Kuroko—a senior member of Judgement, the underclassman who had always been fiercely loyal to her Onee-sama, and who had long viewed the Queen as her number one enemy.

To her, that rumor was nothing short of a living nightmare come true. Thus, Kuroko proudly declared herself the righteous representative, the number one anti-shipper of the "Ace x Queen" warship, determined to sink that vessel!

She even shamelessly exploited her position as a Judgement member to “seek the truth” and “quell false rumors”… And of course, the price she paid was getting scolded mercilessly by Konori Mii in an emergency meeting for “serious abuse of authority for personal motives,” leaving Kuroko sulking, yet still unwavering in her crusade to protect Onee-sama’s purity from the clutches of the brainwashing faction!

Meanwhile, on the side of the main owner of the rumor...

No need to ask—Mikoto had chosen the path of playing dead! Hear nothing, see nothing, feel no trouble!

Whenever someone asked, she pretended to be busy. When someone looked at her with eyes pleading for the truth, she turned her gaze away and disappeared shortly after. When she noticed the magazines secretly taking photos of her and ShoSho, Mikoto used her convenient powers to erase all traces and borrowed someone else’s ability so that they only appear at essential times, such as when going to school.

And then, in the quiet corner of her dorm room, Mikoto curled herself into the soft fur of ShoSho as if that place were a different world—one without shippers, without interviews, without prying eyes... Only peace for her and the cat who looked too much like that person.

She took a deep breath so that the gentle honey scent soaked into every cell of her body, as if she were seeking a fragment of tranquility in this crazy Academy City, her hand stroking the soft fur like the most effective relaxation therapy.

ShoSho—or the one hiding within that fur—only glanced at Mikoto, then, as if understanding the hardships she was facing, ShoSho lay still, allowing Mikoto the privilege of messing up her neatly groomed coat.

Even if she was just a cat, ShoSho was still that person. That regal aura, that leisurely posture, those glossy strands of fur—each meticulously cared for to the point Mikoto couldn’t help but realize: she was now the slave of her own life-long nemesis.

An invisible voice echoed, sweet and gentle, only heard by Mikoto and the cat: [Remember to brush my fur later, Mikoto~☆!]

Mikoto buried her face deeper to hide the blush on her cheeks. She nuzzled into the cotton-soft Somali fur, then finally let out a whisper as light as the wind brushing through a room with only one girl and one cat:

“…I know, Misaki.”