Archive of Our Own ^beta

There lived a lady above the hill.

The lady was said to be the most beautiful in town. In the kingdom. In the whole world, even — as some of her suitors liked to wax in their poetry. 

She was loved by everyone. Every man and woman in the village held adoration in their hearts for her. It was easier to count the number of young (and old) bachelors and bachelorettes in town who had not tried their hand at wooing her than it was to count who had. Foreign suitors from all walks of life had come to the village to look for her, specifically.

Despite that, last time anyone checked, she still lived alone in her comfortable little manor. Or at least, slept alone — she had since had to hire a groundkeeper to keep some of the more, uh, extreme suitors away.

She turned down all confessions. She never replied to any of the love letters in her poor, stuffed mailbox. She only offered a polite smile to all the greetings and attention she received on the street as she went about her day.

Some guy had tried to confess to her in the middle of the street once. She had very politely, but firmly rejected him. The public humiliation had been enough that no one ever tried that again.

Rumors said she had a secret lover. Less kind-spirited rumors said she either was just a plain snob, or was secretly some kind of freak and rejected everyone out of fear of being found out.

These decidedly did not dissuade people from vying for her hand regardless. Thus the endless waves of confessions and love letters and ballads outside the window continued, as each of the stubborn suitors held onto the hope that they just might be the one to break through the icy wall trapping her heart.

Until one day, the lady had enough.

She issued an ultimatum. Anyone who wanted to marry her must first catch her cat, and obtain the key attached to its collar. Bring it to her manor, use it to unlock the front door, and the deal would be sealed.

And thus the mad hunt began.

On any given day, the normal folks could see, or at least hear, the various attempts of the lovestruck fools. Frequently they could be seen wandering the streets, poking their eyes and ears and noses into all acceptable places for a glimpse of the elusive cat. On the rare occasion that the cat was spotted, one would begin their chase, and soon enough, their comrades/rivals would join them in the charade — their noisy yelling could be heard from the opposite side of town. Others would try their hand at different tactics — baits, traps, you name it — in order to lure in the prized feline… all to no avail so far. The cat would always be just a step too fast, too smart, too elusive — and it would always slip away, much to the pursuers' dismay.

Even the other townsfolk were starting to get tired of all the commotion.

At least they were good for Mizuki's business.

Mizuki let out a laugh, examining the piece of clothes before them.

"Isn't this the exact same pair of pants he brought here two days ago? Did he tear it again already?"

"I heard it was quite a nasty affair," Rui chuckled, mirroring their amusement. "The poor lad got caught in his own trap. His knee got quite a scrape from the twigs and rocks on the ground."

“Yikes,” Mizuki shook their head. “I’m just glad the poor cat didn’t get caught on that…”

They set the pants aside. Behind them laid a massive pile of clothes, torn in similar fashions. Caught on jagged edges, undone at the seams from being overworked, or dropped a few buttons… The clothes were all here for different reasons, yet the one cause for them remained the same. Mizuki could feel a sigh building just from a look at the pile. 

“You know, they would really benefit from learning how to sew,” they said.

“Wouldn’t that put you out of business?” Rui said, not looking up from where he was working. Mizuki snorted.

“Oh please, they are much too busy to do that,” and thought themselves better than ‘a woman’s job’ — which Mizuki did not say, but they knew Rui understood regardless. They slumped against the counter of their small tailor shop, groaning. “But now I’m also too busy for my personal projects. It’s good money, but ah, the misery!”

Rui chuckled at their theatrics. “To give into the mind-numbing grind, or to follow your passion. Such is the dilemma, indeed…”

Mizuki looked up from their less-than-professional-looking posture, asking. “How’s it coming along?”

“It’s looking good,” Rui hummed, his hands never ceasing their movements. “Just a few more tweaks, and…” 

He poked and prodded at a few other random places Mizuki could not really see from their position, then set his hand on the wheel and carefully turned it. It spun smoothly as he increased his speed, and Mizuki cheered.

“Woo! Thanks, Rui! You’re the best!” they said cheerfully. They marveled at their now working spinning wheel. “I don’t know what I’d have done without you!”

“You’d be fine, I believe,” Rui chuckled as he continued to check the machine for things he might have missed. “You’re quite resourceful; I doubt you actually needed me to come in today.”

“Hey, I was really having trouble with it!” Mizuki pouted. “Sure, I could have figured it out myself, but it would have taken the whole day, you know? Meanwhile, you just came in, twirled your hands and bam! Thing fixed!”

“You’re exaggerating,” Rui laughed, and did that thing where he brought his hand up to rub the back of his neck in an expression of modesty. Mizuki grinned.

“Besides, if I had not called you over, you would have stayed in that workshop of yours all day, tinkering with whatever it is that you’re building this time,” they leaned forward on the counter, peering cheekily, yet fondly at him. “Now you’ve been forced to converse with me! Hah!”

“Wouldn’t you have done the same?” Rui shook his head at their hypocrisy, jabbing good-naturedly. “But I suppose I have no reason to complain. You make for a great conversation partner.”

Mizuki laughed. “That’s kinda sad.”

“What is?”

How isolated you must be to find another recluse like me to be a great conversation partner.

“How antisocial you are that I have to drag you out to socialize like a normal human being.”

“Oh? But I do socialize on a daily basis,” Rui said.

Mizuki quirked an eyebrow. “Your creations don’t count.”

“On the contrary, I’d argue that they absolutely count…”

It was so easy to banter back and forth with Rui, even if it never left Mizuki’s mind what it had been that brought them together in the first place — the common situation that they shared. Having him with them in their small tailor shop carried with it a nice sense of normalcy in the madness that had descended on the town outside — or just in general, if Mizuki allowed themself to be honest. He was the closest thing Mizuki had to a friend in this town — and in their better moments, they would dare call him that (and believe it) even.

But right now, they were curious. 

“Rui, have you ever entertained the thought of taking up Miss Asahina’s challenge?”

Rui corked his head at them. “Not particularly. Why?”

“It’s just,” Mizuki huffed. “One of us gotta escape the single life, man. And between all your ideas and creations… I don’t know, I thought you might be able to capture the cat easily with one of your contraptions without hurting it or something.”

“For all my ingenuity, none of my creations is risk-free, Mizuki,” he shook his head. “And even if it is really safe, I have no intention of pursuing the Miss myself.”

“Oh, right, I forgot,” Mizuki rolled their eyes. “You’re a man married to your work.”

“Hehe, you know me so well,” Rui smiled. “But even without that, is that any way to properly court a lady?”

“I guess not,” Mizuki said. “But she said it was fine, wasn’t it?”

“I think we both know the real reason why she set out the challenge.”

Mizuki looked down at the torn pair of pants on the counter, hand playing with its severed threads.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I have to go,” Mizuki looked up, and saw Rui packing up his things. He secured his toolkit on his shoulder and tipped his hat at them. “It’s been nice talking to you.”

“Likewise,” Mizuki returned his smile. “Thanks again for coming.”

Rui bowed his head slightly before leaving through the front door, the doorbell jingles following him outside.

Left alone again, Mizuki sighed, and picked up their needle. As fun as chatting with Rui had been, now was time for work. They pressed the needle against the fabric, ready to make the first stitch—

The door jingled again.

Mizuki looked up, already gearing up to tease Rui for forgetting his tool again—

Their eyes went wide, and they gasped.

It was the talk of the town herself.

Asahina Mafuyu.

Okay, to be fair, this was not the first time Mizuki had met her. Everyone who had been in the town for longer than a week had, to some capacity. Not to mention, Mafuyu was somewhat of a patron at their shop. She had come by once or twice in the past to have some dresses tailored — and if Mizuki remembered correctly, she must be here for the dress she had commissioned them a while ago for, which they had told her they would get done by today.

Asahina Mafuyu just had this… presence. Beauty, she had that in spades, obviously — but none of the suitors’ love ballads and poetry could ever have prepared Mizuki for the real deal when they had met for the first time — or even now, if Mizuki were to be perfectly honest. Lustrous wavy purple hair curled around her shoulder, caressing the smooth fair skin of her cheek and catching the golden sunlight streaming through the entrance of their shop like a halo. The fancy violet - sky blue gradient of her sharp eyes reflected both an air of unattainable nobility and a cool, alluring sense of mystery that pulled people in. There was something ethereal to her posture, her air, her velvety voice, the way she walked so gracefully and soundlessly, as if she was gliding. 

If anyone had told Mizuki she was a reincarnated goddess, they would have believed them. It was the kind of beauty that shook you to the core even after you’d witnessed it a hundred times over — much less a handful of times, like Mizuki had.

Their eyes locked, and for a second, Mizuki found themself lost in her gaze, like every time they had encountered her before. 

But having been in close quarter with her at least twice before must have counted for something — for Mizuki was able to shake themself out of it before the stare went on for too long and became rude, and gave her their best, upbeat smile.

“Ah, Asahina-san! Here for your dress?”

Mafuyu gave back a polite smile. “Good morning, Akiyama-san. I am indeed here for the dress. I hope I did not catch you at a bad time.”

“Nope, not at all!” they said. “If you’ll give me just a second to retrieve it…”

“Please, take your time.”

Mafuyu made her way to the counter as Mizuki turned to the dresser on the side, where they placed all of their finished tailored works. They quickly identified Mafuyu's dress among them — a beautiful long black dress with elegant shades of lavender (the same as her hair) — and set it neatly folded in front of her.

“Would you like to try it on right now? So if there’s anything not quite right, I can get to fixing it right away.”

“That’d be great, yes.”

“Do you need help putting it on?”

“I think I’ll manage, thank you.”

“You know where the changing room is, then,” Mizuki smiled at her. Mafuyu returned it, and excused herself to the back of the store to try on the dress.

Mizuki picked up their needles again while they waited, letting out a little sigh. Best not let time idle by when they still had a mountain of work to do.

They let their mind wander, as their skillful hands went through the familiar motions of threading the needles through the fabric again and again. They thought of the super cute dress they had been working on in their spare time, currently on the workbench in their bedroom. They got a little too ambitious with the design and covered it with a ribbon practically every three inches (sike! there is no such thing as too many ribbons), and while they were very pleased with how it had been turning out so far, they were running very low on ribbons as a result. They should try to remedy that soon — make some time to visit the merchant in the next town over — but that would prove to be a little difficult, if this trend of people increasingly coming to ask them to fix their clothes these past few days continued.

On that note, it was almost funny how slow their supply of dark-colored fabric ran out, as opposed to how fast bright-colored one did. Mizuki’s style was known to be cute, and while that did not necessarily mean bright and colorful, they did have a preference, and it showed. Tailoring for Mafuyu had been some of those rare occasions where they worked with darker colors. They worked very well on her, but Mizuki had a funny feeling that anything could work well on Mafuyu. 

Hell, she could probably stroll out there wearing a potato sack and the suitors would call her a fashion visionary or something.

What would Mafuyu look like in Mizuki’s style? Not their style tailored to her interest, but just… their style. 

They tried to imagine a scenario where they were allowed to make an outfit for her however they wanted. 

Mafuyu always dressed so prim and proper… Mizuki would love to see a more rebellious look on her. A sleeveless dress, for example! A tad detached from her usual 'proper lady' style, but infinitely more youthful — as she should be. Ooh, what about a gothic look? What about a girlish look… or a boyish look, even! Mizuki had never seen her wear pants before. They bet she would rock a suspender…

Oh, what if Mafuyu wore a suit—

“Akiyama-san?”

Mizuki screeched and fell off the chair.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” came Mafuyu’s worried voice, and Mizuki cracked open one eye to see her peering down at them from behind the counter, frowning in concern. “Did I startle you?”

“Nope!” Mizuki squeaked out, bolting upright and attempting to make themself presentable as fast as possible. “It’s not your fault! I’m just a little distracted, haha…”

They leaned on the counter as they stood up, trying to appear smooth and casual as they gave her a hopefully convincing smile. Their eyes landed on her dress, and their smile widened.

“How do I look?” Mafuyu hesitantly spun around in the dress they had made her, showing them different angles. The dress hugged her body beautifully, highlighting her well-defined curves; the big violet bow in front drawing the attention of onlookers to her well-endowed bosom. The wavy, multi-layered, black and purple sleeves and skirt floated as she spun lightly, adding volume to her already outstanding presence. 

“You look great!” Mizuki grinned at her. “And I’m not just saying that because I made this dress. You really do look beautiful! The dress suits you well!”

There was a hint of pride in their voice that they could not help but speak with in regards to their creation. Mafuyu laughed, almost bashfully. “I’m glad you think so. I thought so myself, though I still wanted to get your opinion…”

“And you got it loud and clear!” Mizuki chirped, then chuckled. “Though I feel like I might be a little biased. You should ask others as well! What is most important, though, is that you like it, not me. Or anyone else, for that matter.”

“That I like it…” a strange sort of daze glossed over Mafuyu’s eyes for a split second, before it disappeared. Mizuki blinked. Mafuyu smiled courteously. “Thank you, Akiyama-san. I’ll be sure to ask for opinions from others around me. I’m sure they’ll agree with me that your work is simply wonderful.”

“You’re welcome!” Mizuki said. “I’m happy that you like it!”

They exchanged a few more pleasantries. Mafuyu made her payment, then left. Mizuki waved after her, smile plastered on their face the whole time as they returned her own smile.

It was only when Mafuyu was out of sight that Mizuki’s smile dropped.

Mafuyu did not seem happy with her new dress at all.

———

It was a normal day outside. Birds were singing. Flowers were blooming. The tireless chase of the mad suitors was still in full swing. The mayor had issued a ban on all traps within the village’s limit, as it was starting to cause the normal townsfolk problems.

Mizuki sat at the front counter of their small tailor shop, bored out of their mind. The number of clothes fixing requests had reduced significantly since the trap ban, but they had not gone away completely. Meaning they were still stuck with a bunch of boring fixup work, albeit much less than before.

At least they would still have a bit of time to work on their personal project, it seemed. As soon as they were done with this pile of five pieces of clothes or so. After that, provided no other customer came in, they could turn to work on their dress instead. That was the thought that kept them moving.

Even so, no matter how much Mizuki loved sewing, stitching up these quaint, unexciting articles of clothes was seriously yawn-inducing. They could feel one coming right up at the thought. Letting their hands drop, they looked up from their work and gave a big yawn—

There was a cat staring at them from the top of the counter.

Mizuki screeched, and fell off the chair.

The cat continued to stare at them, unfazed by the sudden loud noises. If anything, it seemed mildly annoyed, eyes slightly narrowed at the clumsy mess of a human being on the ground.

Mizuki dusted themself off, staring back at the cat in confusion. Where had it come from? It definitely could not have gone through the front door — even if it had the strength to push it open, the bell would have signaled them. Maybe their bedroom window? They did tend to leave it open as they woke up and went about their day, to keep the atmosphere in their bedroom fresh and airy. Still, why—

The shouting of a large group of people suddenly grew closer to their shop, accompanied by the sound of rushing footsteps. It startled both Mizuki and the cat, the latter of which jumped down behind the counter and hid under it.

It did not take long for a band of suitors to arrive at the front of their shop, disheveled and sweaty and panting. Mizuki scrambled to appear normal as the suitors looked through the window, hastily picking up their needle and the shirt they had been stitching. They could feel the weight of the band’s collective gazes as they swept through the interior of the shop, and it took all their will not to look up and feign ignorance, hoping the people outside did not notice that their hands had just been waving around vaguely in a motion resembling sewing. 

It felt like an eternity before the sound of footsteps picked up again, this time fading away.

Mizuki let out a breath they had not realized they had been holding.

The cat also peeked out from underneath the counter, looking at them questioningly. They gave it a small, reassuring smile.

“They’re gone. You can come out now.”

The cat slowly, cautiously stepped out. Its lustrous, long, curly purple fur brushed Mizuki’s leg as it walked past and away from them, stopping a few meters away to sit down, turning towards them. Its eyes bore the most peculiar gradient of purple and blue, resemblant of its owner; its emotionless and unblinking gaze seemingly peering right through their soul. On its collar, a small golden key dangled.

The cat was the very picture of stillness as it stared them down, that Mizuki was afraid to disturb it. They unconsciously gulped in their seat, almost not daring to move a muscle in fear of scaring it away.

“Quite a celebrity these days, ain’tcha?” Mizuki laughed.

The cat did not answer, nor did it break eye contact. It struck Mizuki that Mafuyu’s hair and the cat’s fur shared the same color. So she had that kind of side too. Cute.

The cat also had the thickest, fluffiest, fanciest coat of fur Mizuki had ever seen. They were oh so tempted to reach out and brush their hand through it, but they had a feeling the cat would not appreciate that quite as much.

So instead, they sat back, relaxed, and picked up their work again.

“You can stay here until they are completely gone, if you want,” Mizuki said. They were not sure if the cat could understand any of it, but it felt appropriate to announce and make their intention known nonetheless. “Most of them will give up for the day once the sun comes down. It should be safer to return then.”

The cat tilted its head at them quizzically. Mizuki giggled.

There was no movement from the cat for a while. In that time, Mizuki’s concentration lapsed back into their work — to the point they could almost tune out the presence of the cat beside them. But not quite — the weight of a foreign presence in their familiar space, the insistent feeling of being watched, even if only by a cat, brought an odd kind of thrill — it made them strangely nervous, the work suddenly feeling a little less mundane. They finished the pile of clothes they were asked to fix (woohoo!) and stood up, leaving the counter and the cat behind for a bit to walk up to their bedroom to bring their personal project downstairs to work on as they kept the shop. 

When they were back, the cat was gone.

Mizuki looked around to make sure that it had left. Once they had confirmed that it was nowhere to be found, they sighed.

A strange sadness welled up in their heart.

———

Mizuki liked nighttime. It was the time of the day where they could truly sit down and allow themself to do whatever they wanted without guilt of being unproductive. Sure, there were less people to talk to, but when they barely had anyone they could have a meaningful conversation with in the town anyway, it hardly made a difference.

They had a routine for this kind of thing. Close up shop, making sure that the latch was secure and the windows were closed (it was a relatively peaceful town, but you could never be too careful, especially for someone of Mizuki’s reputation). Have some curry — or a rice ball if they were feeling particularly lazy. Take a warm bath, brew some tea, slip into their favorite nightwear. In the comfort of their small, cozy bedroom, surrounded by their favorite things and the smell of fabric, Mizuki would take up their needles, and create magic. Puffy gowns of amazing cuteness. Frilly dresses for a romantic date in a flower field. Adorable outfits with both simple and intricate designs, and so so many ribbons.

Someday, when they were feeling particularly productive, they would work on commissions during the evening too. But most of the time, night was when they relaxed and unwound with a healthy dose of their beloved personal projects.

Tonight was no different. They had a new blend of ginseng pineapple tea that the parlor in town had just stocked up on. They had made the trip to the town over and had all the ribbons they needed. All the fabric and needle and threads were laid out. They were ready.

It was a quiet night. The only sound that accompanied Mizuki’s adeft fingers as they sewed was the tiny pop of fabric being punctured by their needles and the occasional sound of sipping. Their eyelids lowered, all the tension from the day melting away as they lost themself in their work. The soothing scent of the tea brought a pleasant warmth to their insides and loosened their muscles. 

Hm, the blend was genuinely great, but might be a little coarse. Mizuki could hear the leaves scratching at the pot’s inside as they poured another cup. They shrugged. As long as the tea itself was fine, it was no problem.

It took them a few moments to realize that the scratching did not come from the pot, but rather the window. 

Mizuki’s head snapped towards the window. 

Behind the glass, silhouetted against the moonlight, stood one certain purple cat.

They hurried to the window and opened it up. The cat wasted no time jumping in. Mizuki temporarily ignored it in favor of poking their head out and looking around. Down the street, they could see a shadow ambling down the walkway, looking around as if searching for something.

Mizuki decided that neither of them should leave the house right now.

“Wow, I do not envy you,” Mizuki said, looking back to see that the cat had made itself at home on their bed, curling up into a loaf. The urge to pet it spiked inside Mizuki again, but they stamped it down. 

They made their way back to their bed-side workbench, on which they carefully sat down, warily watching the cat as they did. The cat returned the stare with indifference, seemingly unbothered by their new proximity. This helped Mizuki relax a little, and they breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Sooo,” Mizuki started, then paused. Wow, they were really talking to a cat now. If there was anything that screamed ‘I’m a lonely loser’, this was one. But well, it was not like anyone was around to judge. “Do you want anything? I have curry. And milk.” Cats like milk, right? Curry, Mizuki was not so sure, though they could pick out the pieces of meat.

The cat only stared back, tail swaying slightly, because it was a cat. 

Mizuki decided to get up and fetch some milk for their feline guest regardless, because they were nothing if not a gracious host for cute beings.

When they returned — a bowl of milk in hand — the cat had moved. It was currently standing on the bed near their desk, peering curiously at the work-in-progress outfit they had left on there. Mizuki could not help but beam at the sight.

“That’s the dress I’m working on!” they said, settling the bowl of milk to one side of the desk. The cat took the invitation and jumped up onto the desk, though it did not dive into its offered drink right away, but rather continued to look between them and the dress with curious eyes. Mizuki gave it a friendly smile. “You can watch me work, if you want. Or look around! Though I can’t imagine there’s anything that exciting here…”

The cat responded by reassuming its loaf position on the desk, watching Mizuki attentively. With one last smile directed towards the cat, the pink-haired tailor resumed their work.

Like that, they sat together in silence for a while. Mizuki worked on sewing the many ribbons into the dress, occasionally shooting a glance towards the cat. The cat seemed content to simply sit there and do absolutely nothing, except for watching Mizuki and occasionally lick its milk. Purple irises followed the movement of their hand closely, tracking the practiced and seamless way (hah!) it threaded the needle through the pink fabric repeatedly, as if it was the most fascinating thing on Earth. Mizuki never would have expected to find a sense of kinship with a cat, but here they were, catching themself smiling softly at their unexpected audience.

It was almost like the other day, when it had dropped into their shop while being chased around by the suitors. At the same time, it was different: their proximity was much closer than before; and maybe it was just how comfortable Mizuki felt right now, but the cat’s presence felt much warmer and friendlier — almost intimate — perching on their desk within arm’s reach like this.

“You know, you’re a really well-behaved cat,” they remarked off-handedly.

Surprisingly, the cat seemed to react strongly to this. It stiffened and shrunk into itself, pupils thinning into slits. The reaction was one Mizuki could only describe as startled, but in an unpleasant way — and it startled them in turn. “I mean it in a good way!” they quickly explained, even though they had no idea in what world could that sentence be taken as anything but a compliment. “I mean— you’re not running around, scratching and knocking over everything like I’ve seen some hyperactive cats do— and don’t get me wrong, that does not make a cat any less loveable—”

The cat squinted at them, with cautious, slitted animal eyes, alert ears and quivering whiskers, and it suddenly dawned on Mizuki that they were trying to defend themself to a cat , of all things.

The cat un-loafed itself, eyes still on Mizuki. It spared a quick glance towards the bowl of milk, before resuming its staring contest with Mizuki again.

One of its front paws placed conspicuously on the bowl.

“Please do not push over the bowl,” Mizuki said, though it might have come out as more of a plea.

Still keeping its eye contact with them, the cat nudged the bowl slightly towards the edge of the table. Mizuki jumped a little as the bowl lurched forward, milk sloshing around in its content.

“Come on,” they whined, uncaring whether or not they were coming across as a little pathetic. “I’m sorry~! Whatever it was about what I said that offended you, I didn’t mean it, I swear!”

The cat continued to stare blankly at them, though Mizuki could swear they saw evil intent sparkling in the depth of its deep violet-blue eyes. Its paw pushed the bowl forward a little more, the edge of the bowl now hovering outside the edge of the table.

Mizuki could only sigh exasperatedly. “You know that I’m literally right here, right?” they changed tack, switching to a pouty tone.

This time, the pause between each time the cat pushed the bowl was the longest. Mizuki did not cut eye contact, arms folding in front of their chest like a stern parent. The cat pondered them for a prolonged second, its gaze unreadable. 

Then it very decisively, deliberately pushed the bowl forward again.

Mizuki raised an eyebrow.

“No.”

Another push.

Mizuki placed a hand on the side of the bowl opposite the cat’s paw.

“No,” they admonished gently but firmly.

The two of them had a staring match for a couple of seconds.

Eventually, the cat took its paw off the bowl of milk, and let out a sound that could best be described as a huff.

At that, Mizuki could not help but burst out laughing.

“I’m sorry!” they said between wheezes as the cat glared at them. “It’s just—” the cat withdrew and turned away from them, obviously sulking. It prompted them to reach out, cooing apologetically, even if they were still laughing a little. “Awww, are you mad at me? I’m sorry, really! You’re very cute, please don’t be mad—”

The second Mizuki’s hand touched the cat’s fur, both of them froze.

Mizuki didn’t know what was faster: them withdrawing their hand, or the cat jumping back. Its wide eyes were glued to them in alarm; its whole body coiled tight, tail tense, ready to bounce away at a moment’s notice. The golden key on its collar swayed to and fro, catching light from the yellow work lamp on Mizuki’s table, glinting ominously in the dim room. Reality crashed back down, as Mizuki was suddenly reminded of what was at stake.

“I’m sorry,” they breathed, slightly fearfully, all traces of humor gone. They held their traitorous hand to their chest, feeling their heart thump loudly underneath their skin. “I didn’t mean anything, I swear—”

But how was a cat to understand their words? All it would see was that Mizuki had tried to grab it. It would regard them as hostile, just like all the suitors; then it would leave them, just like everyone did, because Mizuki could not stop messing up all of their relationships, even with a cat—

Cautiously, the cat sat back down, even if it maintained its distance.

Mizuki blinked.

“Uhhh,” they managed after a few seconds, “does that mean you forgave me?”

The cat huffed again, then meowed, even if it was still glaring daggers at them. Like Mizuki would understand what that meant. But it was not running away, so…

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

It ignored them this time, casually licking its paw. As far as communication with a cat went, that looked like confirmation to Mizuki.

They heaved a long sigh. 

Having a heart attack over a cat was not how they had expected to spend their evening, yet here they were.

The atmosphere did lighten up somewhat afterwards, though it could never truly return to how relaxed it had been before Mizuki had gone ahead and done the stupid deed. The cat only stayed for a little while longer, then headed off.

As it hopped down from the table and made its way to the window, its tail brushed against Mizuki’s leg. The motion felt very deliberate — the way it pressed against their ankle just long enough, while it could have circled around and avoided them completely.

Mizuki watched it hop onto the window sill, cast one meaningful look back, and then disappear off into the night.

Whatever the meaning behind that look was, it stirred up the unmistakable feeling of hope inside Mizuki’s chest.

———

“Does Mafuyu dress you?”

The cat’s gaze flicked up towards Mizuki’s face, expectant and quizzical. Mizuki hummed in thoughts.

“Like, does she put you in cute tiny outfits like I’ve seen some rich people do with their pets? Does she have a whole mini-wardrobe tailored for you?” they said, then sniggered at the thought. The mental image of Mafuyu proudly presenting her precious cat — who had the same fur color as her hair, by the way, don’t think Mizuki was letting that go — in a tuxedo or a princess dress was simply too cute .

The highly sought-after cat had, inexplicably enough, returned after that first night. Not once, not twice — not even under the guise of hiding from a predatory presence. She just showed up randomly on Mizuki’s window sill at night — sometimes even on their bed, already waiting for them as they made their way upstairs after a day of work.

The first time it had happened, Mizuki had been shocked, but delighted to see her come back, nonetheless — though it had left them wondering for a while why exactly she had come to them this time, as they could not spot any suspicious figure wandering around. After a while, however, it became clear that the cat hadn’t been hiding from anyone, and had just been coming here just because. For their delicious(?) milk, or for their wonderful show of craftsmanship, Mizuki was not sure. All they were certain of was that the cat had been coming back out of her own volition, because she enjoyed being here — questionable motive or otherwise.

Mizuki had never felt warmer at a thought.

The cat tilted her head and meowed at them. Mizuki had no idea what that meant, but that was okay. Most of the time, during these… nighttime hangouts, they had gotten used to thinking out loud, talking to themself to fill the silence. Sure, the cat might not be looking for a conversation, but Mizuki would like to think they were having one anyway.

Besides, maybe it was just them, but Mizuki could almost think that the cat understood them sometimes.

They had just been sketching down whatever ideas they had in their head. Their previous project had been a resounding success — they’d even gotten a seal of approval from the cat in the form of a sniff — a flowy, youthful baby pink dress that was utterly adorable. But now that it had been done and hung up with others of their personal projects around the room — which was basically a mini-showroom at this point, for nobody’s eyes but their own, Rui’s on the rare occasion he went up here, and perhaps one feline’s — they needed a new idea to fixate on. 

Mizuki frowned down at the page before them. All of these ideas were good, though none of them stood out in particular. They let out a small groan, leaning back on their chair and looking up at the ceiling.

A soft meow brought their gaze back down. The cat had tiptoed closer to the sketchbook, sniffing it curiously. She pawed at the figures on the paper. Mizuki smiled brightly.

“Oh? Does kitty want an outfit designed by yours truly? Does kitty want a cute outfit for when Mommyfuyu takes you out to picnics?” the cat glared at their childlike coddling tone. Mizuki laughed. “Kidding! Even if you really want to, you’ll have to tell your mom to come talk to me first. I can’t just make someone an outfit without their permission first, you know. Although…”

They leaned their head on their arm, lowering themself and peering up at the cat, a soft smile playing on their lips. “I don’t mind making one for you, just for fun. No pay or anything.” They hummed and looked away, drumming their fingers on the wooden table surface. “I mean… I’ve been wondering what sewing an outfit for animals is like. Tailoring for humans, sure, I’m no stranger to that, but animals…”

The cat looked at them, then glanced down at the page of sketches, seemingly lost in whatever thoughts cats would normally be lost in when humans tried to have a conversation with them at length. Mizuki watched her stare at the page for a moment, then stand up, circle around to the other side of the sketchbook, and stare at the other page. 

“See anything you like?” they smirked.

The cat placed her paw on a sketch on the page, and mewled. Mizuki sat up, peering at what she was referring to. A sketch of an idea for an outfit for a prince, complete with regal trousers and tailcoat and royal sash.

“Ooh, a princely look! Unconventional taste, aren’t we?” Mizuki said in awe. At the cat’s squint, they laughed and waved a hand. “I don’t mean anything bad by that! You can wear whatever you’d like! Like… just look at me.” They made a sweeping gesture downwards at themself — at their long, pink, girly night robe and their thin, white, frilly night dress. “Would be kind of hypocritical of me to tell you how to dress, don’t you think?” 

Nevermind the fact that no one was bored enough to gatekeep cat’s fashion in the first place.

But they did gatekeep human’s fashion. Whenever Mizuki went down the street, eyes turned. Mouths whispered. Meddling people ran up to them with the same questions and the same opinions they’d never asked for.

Did Mafuyu feel the same way as they did? Tired of all the unwanted attention, resentful of her own reputation, forced to keep a smile on her face regardless of the trouble everyone put her through?

How cruel of her, then, to put her own cat through the same thing.

They chuckled. “Maybe we aren’t so different, after all.”

Was that why the cat kept coming back?

Maybe they were just overthinking this.

Yet the look the cat was giving them— no, the way the cat had always been looking at them, kept giving them a reason to believe that she knew. She understood . There was an uncanny intelligence behind those wild, emotionless, violet-blue orbs — and maybe Mizuki should have learnt something from all the horror stories about shapeshifting youkais, but they had always preferred fairytales the likes of Puss in Boots anyway. If this was what going crazy from solitude felt like, maybe Mizuki didn’t mind loss of sanity all that much. At least they could say they were not completely alone.

Or maybe they were, and this was all in their head. After all, could they truly prove that the cat was physically in front of them right now, and not just a figment of their imagination?

It was only when the cat broke eye contact with them to glance down that Mizuki realized they had unconsciously grabbed the measuring tape and been fiddling with it in their hands. They looked down, thumbing over the length of their worn, trusty tape — tracing over the slightly faded numbers, turning it front to back, folding segments of it together.

Couldn’t hurt to try, right?

Mizuki held the tape up.

“May I?”

The cat stared at them with an indescribable expression. With each second of silence that passed by, Mizuki felt a bit more stupid. 

They were about to laugh it off when the cat moved. She strolled forward on the surface of Mizuki’s workbench, stopping right in front of them. The look in her eyes was expectant, almost commanding. Mizuki’s lips fell open slightly.

“Wait, really? Can I?”

The cat’s eyes narrowed, tail swishing impatiently. Her head leaned forward, holding her neck out.

Gingerly, Mizuki wrapped the measuring tape around her chest. They took double extra care not to tighten the tape too harshly; in fact, they might have taken too much care, for the cat started to get impatient at their slow speed, tail tapping against the table in annoyance.

Mizuki could not help but puff out a laugh at that. “Easy, kitty,” they placated, gently ruffling her fur— holy shit it was even softer than they had imagined . The cat seemed to settle down at that, stilling as they moved on to wrap the tape around her abdomen. “I have to take caaaareful measurements in order to make you the best outfit, okay?” Though they did feel comfortable enough to speed up their hands a little, moving on to measure her front legs. “You’re gonna be the most charming cat in town!”

The cat mewled, as if in agreement.

Mizuki subsequently took measurements of her hind legs, tail, neck, and everything else that might be relevant — they had never done this after all. They could not help but sneak in a few scritches here and there, addicted to the feeling of the cat’s impossibly soft long fur — though the cat did not seem to mind, if her relaxed half-lidded eyes were any indication. Afterwards, they set the measuring tape aside to write it all down, mumbling to themself as they worked. A few ideas were already bouncing around their head, their excitement showing in the furious scratching of their pencil against paper.

They felt a soft bump against their non-writing hand. The cat was looking at them with expectant eyes. Mizuki, naturally, lifted their hand and patted her head, running it down the thick purple mane around her neck.

“Good kitty,” they murmured. “Whoa—” the cat hopped onto their lap, a solid mass of fuzzy fur and fuzzy heat. She curled up, settling against their body. Mizuki hesitantly placed their hand onto the ball of fur, gently stroking along her back. She nuzzled into their touch, eyes closing in satisfaction, and

oh my god is she purring I’m gonna die actually I think I’m already dead this must be heaven

The cat, oblivious to Mizuki’s existential crisis — and pointedly ignoring their choked high-pitched squeal — continued to purr steadily, leaving them to feel like they were going to melt into a puddle on the floor.

It was too much. This raw, untamed cuteness demanded that Mizuki do something about it right now . The pencil was abandoned completely as they focused their entire attention on petting the cat on their lap, doing their best not to sob loudly.

The golden key on her collar caught Mizuki’s eyes. They ignored it.

———

Three weeks after their last encounter, Mafuyu graced Mizuki’s small tailor shop with her presence again.

“Asahina-san! Good morning!” Mizuki greeted her cheerfully. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Good morning, Akiyama-san,” Mafuyu smiled back the usual empty smile Mizuki always saw her showcase around. “I came here today for, well, something a little bit different, I suppose.”

“Oh?” Mizuki raised an eyebrow. “What might that be?”

Mafuyu gave a bow.

“I want to thank you for taking care of my cat recently.”

Mizuki blinked. 

“Eh? How did you know?”

"A little cat told me," the corner of Mafuyu's lips quirked up, something resembling real amusement twinkling in the depth of her eyes. 

Mizuki stared at her. There was no way she and her cat actually talked, right?

"I'm joking."

Of course.

"I got worried one day, when she didn't return even when it was late. So I asked my groundkeeper to go look for her. She told me she saw the cat coming out of your house," she explained. "After a few more times, we concluded that it was her who came to you, not the other way around. Besides, she seemed well and unharmed, so I let her be.”

“Ohhh, I see,” Mizuki nodded. Then they realized the implication, and laughed nervously. “Yeah, I don’t— wanna come across as a snatcher or anything, haha.”

“I will admit, I certainly had my concern,” Mafuyu smiled amiably. “But she seems to have enjoyed herself every time she comes back from a visit to your place, so more than anything, I’d like to extend my gratitude to you.”

“Oh no, I didn’t do nothing special,” Mizuki waved their hand dismissively. “I just let her hang around while I worked. It's nice to hear that she enjoyed herself, though! If anything…"

They looked away. 

“She helped me more than I did her.”

Mafuyu tilted her head, genuine curiosity lighting her eyes.

“How so?”

“Well…” Mizuki scratched the back of their head. “It’s like— having a friend around, I suppose.” 

They didn’t elaborate more than that.

Mafuyu hummed, expression unreadable.

“I see.”

Somewhere outside, the muffled rumbling of a wooden cart rolling on a pebble-filled street sounded through the windows.

"There's another matter I've come to you today for,” Mafuyu said.

"Oh?"

"I'd like to have another outfit made," she said.

"Well, that I can definitely help you with!" Mizuki beamed, putting their cheery customer service voice back on. "What do you have in mind?"

"Actually, about that,” Mafuyu said, “I would like your advice on what kind of outfit I should have.”

Mizuki blinked again.

“My advice?”

“Yes,” Mafuyu nodded. "Akiyama-san is rather knowledgeable in different types of fashion, are you not? I thought you might be able to help me decide."

"You give me too much credit," Mizuki laughed, scratching their cheek bashfully.

“I don’t think so,” Mafuyu shook her head. “You’ve always been able to put my vague requests together into an amazing outfit in the past. I’m sure this time will be no exception.”

“Ah, you’re gonna make me blush,” Mizuki chuckled and looked away, pretending their cheeks were not heating up already. The effect of the praise was lost a little, however, when Mizuki remembered that Mafuyu was probably just being polite. “But sure, if you insist! That’s my job, after all!”

“Thank you, Akiyama-san,” Mafuyu smiled, and somehow, it felt more real than any smile she had ever given.

“Just call me Mizuki,” they grinned. 

Mafuyu’s eyes went a tad wide. “Mizuki…” she whispered, somewhat dazed.

“What’s wrong?” Mizuki asked.

She seemed to snap out of it at their question, shaking her head. “It’s nothing,” she smiled apologetically. “Forgive me, it’s just that… that’s the first time someone has asked me to call them by their first name.”

Mizuki frowned.

“You’re not on a first name basis with your friends?”

“Friends?” Mafuyu laughed airily, a seemingly normal but deeply unsettling sound to the tailor. “Sadly, no. I suppose I’m… not close enough with them for that.”

Or anyone, for that matter.

Mafuyu’s smile had a strain of bitterness to it. Mizuki’s fist unconsciously clenched.

“Then, can I call you Mafuyu?” they blurted out.

Silence reigned. Mafuyu looked taken aback. Mizuki’s heart felt like it would burst out of their chest.

After a few seconds, Mafuyu smiled — a small, genuine curl of her lips. “Of course. I don’t mind.”

She had never seemed more beautiful in that moment.

Mizuki needed to say something.

“Great!” they squeaked through a too-wide smile, unnaturally high-pitched (which they would pat themself on the back for, under normal circumstances). “Now, even if you don’t know what you want yet, I’m sure you have some preferences. In order to tailor the outfit to your liking, I need to know them first! Just anything will do; even the smallest thing like your preferred colors…”

“Ah, but that’s the thing, Mizuki ,” uh oh, the sound of her lilting voice saying their name was going to spell their doom. “I want you to have free reign over this commission.”

Mizuki looked at her in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Mafuyu stepped forward, turning her eyes to the rest of the shop as she did. Her gaze trailed from the spinning wheel Rui had fixed, to the rack of fabric of various colors behind them, to the mess of tools they had on the counter. It stopped at them, at the dead center of it all, and Mizuki gulped, feeling those sharp royal purple eyes pierce right through them.

“I want you to look at me,” Mafuyu stopped right in front of the counter, opposite of them. They were so close — Mizuki could reach out and touch her, this unreal being of unquantifiable grace and the subject of so many desires. “And come up with an outfit that you think would work well with someone of my appearance. An outfit that you think I’d like. An outfit that you ,” she leaned forward on her hands — closing the distance even further — peering up at them, a hint of a smirk on her face, “would love to see on me.”

Mizuki’s mind raced at the unusual request. 

This felt like a trap, even if on the surface, it just seemed as if the purple-haired woman was simply looking for a change of pace. Her wording, her body language, her sly expression — they all felt much too deliberate, yet Mizuki could not read the intention behind them at all. Was this a test? A bait? If so, what was Mafuyu trying to test them on? What was Mafuyu trying to draw out from them?

“If you’re hesitant, I’m willing to give you a generous bonus for your consultation.”

That’s not the issue here!

“It’s not that,” Mizuki shook their head. “I just…”

They tried to think of a good excuse.

“I don’t know, it sounds kinda hard. I don’t think I’m the right person for this…”

“I object to that notion,” Mafuyu insisted. “In fact, I’d even argue that you’re the only person who could fulfill this particular request.”

How could Mafuyu know that? On what basis was she saying this? Mizuki was sure that given her as a muse, many tailors — or even artists, in general — would be so overflowed with inspirations they wouldn’t even know where to start. The woman was the closest thing to Princess Kaguya’s incarnate Mizuki had ever had the privilege to encounter — a small-town tailor like Mizuki could not possibly be the best choice to bring out her full potential—

“How about this,” Mafuyu suddenly spoke, breaking the silence. “Would you say your biggest point of hesitation is the fact that you don’t know me all that well?”

Mizuki wasn’t sure where she was going with this. Nevertheless, they hesitantly nodded. 

“In that case, how about you and I go on a little date?”

Mizuki choked on air.

“Wh- Pardon me?!”

“To know each other better,” Mafuyu said breezily. “You’d be able to glimpse more sides of me to use as materials for your work, while I’d be able to convince you why I think you’re the perfect candidate for this. At the end of it, you still have the choice to turn me down, of course, if you still think this project is out of your depth — but I’m hoping for a chance to sway your opinion. What do you say?”

A date. With the most beautiful woman in town, possibly in the whole kingdom. The mysterious young woman of whom no one knew the origin or what she was even doing in this tiny town in the middle of nowhere; whose backstory stayed a secret behind her friendly attitude and charming smile despite her widespread connection with the townsfolk and everyone’s best effort to dig behind it. The lady who had infamously rejected every dating offer from the most eligible bachelors and bachelorettes from all over the land — some of which held title and power beyond Mizuki’s imagination. 

Whose words’ influence could decimate Mizuki’s flimsy standing in this town with just one well-placed rumor.

Somehow, Mizuki got the sense that Mafuyu was not that type of person. But faced with such power, they could not help but be afraid regardless. One wrong move from them…

After years of being the target of slander, it was hard to shrug off the instinct. This town was more accepting than most, but still.

On the other hand, Mizuki could not pretend that they were not the least bit curious. Anyone would be, with such an offer. The mystery that was Miss Asahina Mafuyu was one that had been debated to death among the townsfolk, with many trying — and failing — to get closer to her for that exclusive lore. 

And here Mizuki was, being handed the opportunity on a silver platter.

…just one date, right? Mizuki wondered if Mafuyu even meant it in that sense.

“Mizuki?”

Mizuki caught themself staring at the way the sunlight glinted on the surface of the bottomless sea that was Mafuyu’s eyes. They jolted — god, they still couldn’t get used to the way she said their name.

“I…” they gulped. “I suppose I could try…”

“Wonderful!” Mafuyu rejoiced before Mizuki could take it back, her usual smile in public making its reappearance. Suddenly, they wondered how much of this was genuine. “I will make space in my schedule — how does this Sunday sound to you?”

What do you see in me?

They discussed their schedules, and Mafuyu asked them about what they would like to do. When it came time for her to say goodbye, Mizuki’s heart was still racing in their chest. It thumped, the sound never having felt louder in the decidedly empty atmosphere of the shop in the wake of Mafuyu’s departure.

They hoped with all their might that they would not regret this.

———

When asked what they would like to do, Mizuki had told Mafuyu that they should go with what she would like to do instead. Since the date was supposedly about Mizuki learning more of Mafuyu’s character, that would be the better choice, no?

Mafuyu had looked far away then, fingers trailing over the texture of the wooden counter.

“I suppose if there is one thing I could say that I enjoy doing,” she had said, almost wistfully, “it would be archery.”

So here they were, in the giant field in Mafuyu’s backyard which doubled as an archery range.

Mafuyu stood in front of them, facing off into the distance. The asymmetrical kyudo bow rested lightly in her hand, weightless. In the simple and plain uniform of white keikogi shirt, black obi belt and hakama pantskirt, she looked like a completely different person from her usual appearance of feminine and sophisticated dresses. 

Yet even this Mafuyu shone in her own way — a more grounded and down-to-earth kind of ethereality. There was an ease with which she carried herself that Mizuki couldn’t normally observe from her — the way her bare foot walked freely among bare earth and blades of green grass, the practiced way with which she drew her bow, the way she exhaled ever so gently as her hand steadied and her eyes locked onto their target. Sunlight streaked across her features — her makeup was down — and her slightly ruffled purple locks, bouncing off the guard she wore across her chest and the curve of her bow. 

Mizuki sat, watching her from the side. They were wearing a slightly cuter outfit than usual — having declined Mafuyu’s offer to change into one of her kyudogi sets. They’d have gone for their cutest one, but that one was not very practical. Mizuki had no idea if she would actually invite them to do archery with her, to be honest — but they were not about to risk their favorite outfit on that.

And they were right. Mafuyu was not dressing to impress, yet somehow Mizuki still felt outclassed in every way possible. It felt like heresy, almost, for someone like them to sit here and observe a goddess in her natural element. The impostor syndrome had only been steadily building from the moment they stepped foot into her well-kept lawn and over their entire tour across the sterile, immaculate interior of her small, middle-class manor. 

(They hadn’t seen the cat inside anywhere. It was probably out. For some reason, they had been looking forward to seeing it more than they had realized.)

It lingered in the back of their mind as they observed this rare side of Mafuyu, trying to make the most of this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity they’d been given. They admired the way the short sleeves stretched across her broad shoulders as she drew her bow, the subtle ripple of muscles underneath. The sharp ringing sound of her arrow piercing its target, in a clear display of strength.

“What’s on your mind? You’ve been oddly quiet.”

Had they? Mizuki supposed outwardly, they were pretty talkative. Rarely had anyone seen their more contemplative side — the exception being Rui. 

They decided to answer with a non-answer. “How long have you been doing archery? You’re really good.”

“Since my adolescent years,” Mafuyu hummed noncommittally. She loaded another arrow into her bow, smoothly drawing it. “I’ve found it to be a great way to relax and clear my mind.”

Another sharp thud. Another hit right on the mark. Mizuki absentmindedly nodded.

“It was the only hobby that my mother would allow.”

Wait. Hold on there for a second.

Mizuki perked up. It was the first time they had heard anything about Mafuyu’s lineage. “Your mother?”

“Mhm,” Mafuyu nodded. “I convinced her that it would help with my fitness and sense of discipline. Aside from etiquettes such as sewing and dancing, she deemed most other forms of entertainment too… unrefined for a lady.”

Wistfulness haunted the woman’s eyes, her guard lowering. Mizuki took the chance to probe a little more, while also being ready to backtrack. “What was your mother like?”

Mafuyu paused. “She was strict. Dignified. Wise. She was well aware of her social position and how to leverage it.” Another pause. “She was a true, accomplished lady.”

Mizuki swallowed, gathering their courage. “What happened?”

A pregnant pause, longer than all the ones before.

“I ran away,” Mafuyu said.

She said nothing after that, going back to nocking arrows into her bow. 

“I see,” Mizuki said simply. A safe, neutral statement, so as not to disturb the delicate atmosphere between them.

Mafuyu let out a sort of amused huff. “What about you, Mizuki?”

Oh my god, stop saying my name so prettily . “Me?” They laughed shyly. “My family are small merchants. I’m living away from them — gotta spread my wings and all that, you know. I have a sister that also goes into tailoring. She inspired me to go down this line of work, actually.”

The fondness with which Mizuki spoke of their family did not escape Mafuyu. An absent smile graced her lips — an expression born mostly out of formality, but there was also a hint of something else underneath. “That’s nice.”

The silence this time was a little more comfortable. Mizuki felt like they had achieved something.

“Do you miss them?”

A lot . “I thought this date was about you,” Mizuki raised an eyebrow.

“Well, for someone supposedly here to learn more about me, you certainly are shy about asking questions,” Mafuyu’s eyebrow raised back in response.

“It was your idea!” Mizuki said with an exaggerated pout. “And…” they hesitated. “I guess I don’t know if it’d be appropriate or not.”

“Why would it not be?” Mafuyu said. “I invited you.”

Technically true, but Mizuki still could not help the feeling they were being tested. “Then,” they hummed, deep in thought. Safe question, safe question. “What do you do, besides archery?”

“Not much, I’m afraid,” Mafuyu chuckled. “Most of my days are spent managing paperwork and the upkeep of the house. I suppose I do dabble in tea time, though it is more of an old habit than anything. I guess you could say archery is my only real hobby.”

Another arrow sliced through the air. Mizuki watched it sink its tip cleanly into the dummy. “What do you like about it?”

“I find it cathartic,” Mafuyu said. “It requires that you get into a calm headspace and exercise great control over your bow. The motion is simple, and there is no rush. The sound of the arrow striking the board…” she paused. “I don’t know why, but I find it satisfying.”

Satisfying, huh? Seemed like not even a goddess was immune to the thrill of destruction. “You said it cleared your mind. What do you usually think of when drawing the bow?”

Mafuyu appeared to mull over her answer as she nocked the next arrow. “Things. Different things.” She took her time with it, lightly pulling and releasing the string in a testing manner. “It depends on the day. Usually, it’s a way for me to ponder matters with a cool head.”

“What are you thinking of right now?”

A pause.

Mafuyu turned to look at them, piercing violet-blue eyes with such intensity that it stole Mizuki’s breath. A spark of interest was alight in those cold eyes, and Mizuki feared the intention brimming behind the curtain.

“Answer me honestly, Mizuki,” she said liltingly. “What is your impression of me?”

Mizuki’s first instinct was to lie. 

Lie their way out of this, lie their way out of here. Tell Mafuyu half-truths — repeating what they’d heard everyone talk about her. Even if it wasn’t what Mizuki actually thought of her, it wouldn’t be their lie completely.

Mafuyu would know. The sharp, knowing look in her eyes — there was no doubt in Mizuki’s mind that they would be read in an instant if they so much as settle for anything but their most honest thought.

They didn’t really want to, either. Mafuyu had gone out of her way to invite Mizuki here, into her home where none other had tread. She was slowly, carefully, but willingly baring parts of her that none other had seen to Mizuki. 

To give her anything other than their true opinion would be a disservice.

(At the same time, Mizuki didn’t owe her anything. They might have agreed to come here, but the reality was still that she had asked them to. They hadn’t agreed to any soul-baring contract on their part. They fully retained the right to walk away from this.)

For once, the small manor on the hill was quiet. Far away from the day-to-day hustle bustle of the town and the mad chase that was no doubt still going on, the only thing Mizuki could hear was the breeze rustling through the leaves. Mafuyu’s hair floated gently, frantic purple locks framing her unmoving, stony expression. Mizuki’s own curly pink side locks caressed their cheeks; long side ponytail tugging at the red bow tying it back, begging to be loose in the wind.

“You are lost.”

Mafuyu tilted her head. “Lost?”

“You don’t know what you’re doing. You ran away from your family and came here to find yourself, but you don't know what you're looking for. You issued the challenge because you have no desire to be with anyone, but you are also unsure whether being with someone would help you find that missing piece. You commissioned me to make you dress after dress in hopes that changing the way you dress would spark something, but you liked none of them, because you have no idea what you like."

Mafuyu's eyes went wide, mouth falling open slightly. Her hand stilled completely, and she didn't respond for a prolonged moment. It was the first time Mizuki had seen such a genuine and naked display of emotion on her, the first time Mizuki had seen her so human: clad in modest black and white kyudogi clothing, bare-footed, shock plain on her face, lost for words, heart on her sleeves.

The silence stretched on and on. The wind continued to howl. The sun shifted a little further up the sky.

Oh my god Mizuki what have you DONE

“Th-That’s just a hunch though! It doesn’t really mean anything! I’m not saying you’re actually like that—”

A giggle.

Mafuyu was giggling. Mizuki watched her, dumbfounded. It was nothing like the courteous chuckle she would give everyday — it sounded airy and light and bitter at the same time, with an almost childlike quality to it. Pearls of repressed laughter kept leaking out of her closed lips, spilling all over her hand and her crinkling eyes. Mizuki didn't even know she could sound like that.

"Hey, Mizuki," she peered at them, mischief in her eyes and the quirk of her lips. "Are you up for something a little more… exciting?"

Mizuki wondered if Mafuyu knew that if she asked it while looking like that, it was impossible for anyone to say no.

———

Thank God Mizuki had opted for the more practical outfit option.

Mizuki’s arms were tight around Mafuyu’s waist, head almost resting on her shoulder. They hung on for dear life, a little too distracted worrying about being flung off the horse to worry about their proximity right now.

Mafuyu rode them down the hill, across the vast grassland at the outskirts of the town and into the woods. Bright, warm sunshine gave way to cool, muted shades; tall grass that tickled their ankles gave way to towering trees and foliage. They trotted down the even trail through the forest, and Mizuki took the chance to admire the scenery.

They felt so many things right now. The wind whipping against their face. Mafuyu’s soft, lustrous, curly hair caressing their cheeks. The lavender scent emanating from her, tickling their nose. The firm muscles of her back, moving in rhythm with the horse. 

The anticipation eating at them as to where they were going, because someone just had to be mysterious and refused to elaborate.

"You're wrong, you know," Mafuyu suddenly spoke. Mizuki lifted their head, chin dangerously close to resting on Mafuyu's shoulder.

"I'm sorry?"

"I don’t dislike your work. Even if your outfits have not been successful in… inspiring something in me, I could still tell your skills are certified.”

“Did you only say that to not hurt my feelings?” the words were out of Mizuki’s mouth before they could reign it in.

They only heard Mafuyu sigh. 

“Sorry.”

“It’s no problem,” she said. “I know how I must look to you.”

The trail widened into a straight, long, narrow clearing. Three wooden boards lined the edge of it to their left, nailed to human’s height. Several others were spaced throughout the clearing, hung at different heights. A line was drawn on the ground, parallel to the boards.

The horse idled to a stop at the start of the line. 

“I couldn’t quite place it but…” Mafuyu started again, voice small. Her murmuring was monotone for the most part, but there was a tinge of vulnerability underneath. “There’s just something about your style that says… new. Refreshing. Liberating, even. I looked at the way you dress, the way you present yourself, and thought: ‘I want that’.”

“Oh,” Mizuki could only say, swallowing thickly. An indescribable emotion swelled up in their chest, threatening to overwhelm them. It was all they could do to push against it, much less think of something witty to say.

It was not a bad feeling, though, that much they could decide.

“Could you get down for a while?”

“Oh, sure!” 

Mizuki gingerly eyed the distance between their feet and the ground before hopping off. Mafuyu took the quilt of arrows she had brought with them and strapped it to her back. She turned to them, a ghost of a smile on her lips.

“Prove me right, won’t you?”

Then she was off.

The horse took off at a high speed down the straight line. Mafuyu held on with only her legs, taking her hands off the rein to raise her bow. One hand expertly drew a single arrow from the quilt and nocked it, while the other held the bow up to eye level. With the first board fast approaching to her left, she calmly drew the bow, arms steady and eyes glued to her target.

Crack!

The arrow pierced the board cleanly. Mizuki was only given a few seconds to marvel at the performance before the horse was already whizzing past the board to its next target. Mafuyu repeated the motions in a practiced manner, as smooth as a well-oiled machine. In the few seconds it took for the horse to reach the next board, her arrow was already raised, her bow drawn. 

Crack!

The sound echoed throughout the clearing. With neither a look back nor a redundant movement, Mafuyu prepared her next shot. 

As the horse ran by a patch of sunlight, Mizuki found their eyes suddenly drawn to the way it shone off her hair billowing behind her — brilliant shades of gold on royal shades of purple, complimenting each other so well. Flecks of gold dotted her sharp features, accentuating them just right. A ray hit her eyes, half-obscured behind her bang, bringing those beautiful orbs into sharp focus.

Time slowed as for a split second, they were struck with a vision — a bow warrior tearing through the battlefield, striking down all of his foes with deadly efficiency before they could ever come near.

It was so… dazzling.

Crack!

Mizuki blinked. The final board had been struck.

The horse turned around, trotting back to them at a casual pace. They locked eyes. 

Mafuyu's eyes looked as cool as usual, but for a second, they were alive .

Mizuki cheered and clapped loudly.

"Wooo! That was amazing!"

"Thank you," Mafuyu replied lightly. She wasn't even out of breath.

"Wait! Hold it right there!" Mizuki called out before Mafuyu could step off her horse. The woman turned to them, looking quizzical. 

They looked about them for something that could be used. Their bow? Too red. So was the one on their collar. Ribbon?

Aha! Mizuki untied a white ribbon on their skirt, and presented it to Mafuyu with a flourish.

Mafuyu blinked at them, unimpressed. "A ribbon?"

"Archers who successfully hit all three boards are rewarded with a sacred white cloth, no?" Mizuki grinned. "So I, Akiyama Mizuki, bestow upon thee, the most sacred white cloth of the Akiyama family: a white ribbon, made by one of our esteemed tailors truly."

Mafuyu snorted, but she went along with it. She directed the horse to come forward directly beside Mizuki, and reached out.

"No no no, use one of your arrows!"

Mafuyu took one of the arrows from the quilt and held the feathery end out. With it, she lifted the white strip of ribbon from their hand, and slung it over her shoulder.

Mizuki clapped again.

"You looked super… dashing out there!"

"Dashing?" Mafuyu stared blankly. 

"You know, like— nevermind."

“Dashing…” Mafuyu repeated, looking far away. “That’s the first time someone has called me that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Mizuki blinked. “Does it bother you?”

Mafuyu seemed to think to herself for a good long while. 

“I don’t mind it,” she finally concluded. “I think.”

Mizuki smiled.

“I’m glad.”

A comfortable silence settled over them.

“You know, maybe the reason it wasn’t working was because you’re going about this all wrong.”

Mafuyu looked at them. “How do you mean?”

“Well,” Mizuki said, a mischievous smile forming on their lips. An idea from a while ago resurfaced in their mind. “Have you ever thought about wearing suits?”

———

“Aaaaand it’s done!”

Mizuki exclaimed, holding up their newest creation. The cat — normally quiet and passive — also perked up with obvious interest, eyeing the object in their hands.

“Glad to see you’re just as excited as me,” Mizuki laughed, reaching out a hand to ruffle the cat’s fur. “Wait, let me just do one last check…”

Mizuki brought each mini article of clothing up to their eyes, squinting at the tiny, barely noticeable seams. They turned each one around and about, inspecting carefully for mistakes. When they were finally satisfied that there was nothing that needed more fine-tuning, they nodded to themself and patted the cat on their lap.

“Alright, up! Let’s see how it looks on you.”

The cat complied and leapt from their lap to the table, turning to face them, sitting expectantly. Mizuki couldn’t help a fond smile that bloomed on their lips as they regarded the feline in front of them, an unusually eager look in her eyes.

They started by draping a white button-up shirt over the cat’s shoulder. She sat on her hind legs and raised her front, letting them fit her legs into the long sleeves. Next came the sleeveless waistcoat, with a nice, royal yellow color and subtle floral patterns. They buttoned it over the shirt, taking care with the faux gold chain link sewn into the waist pocket. 

The maroon bow tie and sash were similarly made quick work of. The tailcoat was the last, sporting a dark royal purple that contrasted nicely with the light-colored underlayers and its golden trim. Just for the heck of it, Mizuki had also sewn an insignia onto its breast. It looked noble and aristocratic from a distance, though if one were to take a closer look, they’d see that the symbol was just a cute simple cat head. 

Mizuki finished straightening out the outfit, double checking to see if they had missed anything and smoothing out invisible wrinkles. Once they were satisfied, they leaned back and took in their hard work.

…

She was…

“SO CUTE!” Mizuki squealed, and immediately gathered the feline into a hug. They pressed their cheek against hers, nuzzling their face into the thick layer of soft floof like coddling a baby. 

Squished, the cat grumbled out an annoyed mrow and pushed her paws against their face. 

“Sorry, sorry!” Mizuki laughed, but they didn’t release the cat just yet — though they did stop squeezing her against their cheek. They lowered her to their chest, cradling her in their arms. “You’re just so cute I can’t help it! And handsome, as well! You and your mom, you two are gonna be the most charming princes in town! Once I’m done with her outfit, of course.”

There was no doubt in their mind about that. The cat truly did look exceptionally dashing — for a cat, that was — in the princely outfit they had made for her. They had intentionally made it match with the outfit they were currently working on for Mafuyu — which was also a princely outfit — though the purple-haired woman didn’t need to know that. 

The cat slithered out of their arms and onto the table. She circled around a little, seemingly checking herself out. She curiously sniffed at the fabric with great interest, playing with the bow tie with her paws. Mizuki’s eyes followed her, a beam on their face as she looked at herself in the small mirror they had placed on the table just for this, staring intently for a moment. 

“What’s the verdict, judge?” they asked jokingly.

The cat looked up at them and meowed.

“I’ll take that as a ten out of ten.”

She purred. God, Mizuki would melt.

Now they had to actually sit down and think about what to do with this outfit. They wondered if it was okay to let the cat take it home. They wanted her to have it, to wear it. Though Mafuyu would probably be confused… 

Mizuki should let her know. They didn't want her to feel like she had to compensate for it — Mizuki had started this project all by themself without her permission, after all — so they could tell her it was a gift. You know, from one friend to another.

Were they friends?

Mizuki thought about Mafuyu's 'friends', who she wasn't even on a first name basis with. Maybe they were.

The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.

Mizuki blinked out of their thoughts to find the cat staring at them intently, expressionless animal eyes not betraying what she was thinking. Maybe it didn’t mean anything, but Mizuki had known this particular cat well enough by now to know that everything she did held purpose behind it.

A very human-like sense of purpose.

“What is it?”

The cat silently came forward and sat directly in front of them. She stared at them again.

“Come on, you know that if we have a staring contest, you’ll just win again,” Mizuki huffed. 

The cat meowed. She lifted a paw to her chest, and pawed at the key dangling there.

Mizuki blinked.

“Are you itchy there?”

The cat narrowed her eyes at them, clearly unimpressed. 

Mizuki blinked again, because there was no way what they thought the cat was insinuating was right. There was no way the cat was telling them to do what they thought she meant. There simply was no way.

The two of them stared at each other for a few more seconds.

Until eventually — clearly fed up — the cat grabbed onto the collar with her paw, and gave it a deliberate tug. The golden key clattered onto the wooden table with a metallic clang, its presence having never been as pronounced as this moment.

Mizuki gulped down the sinking pit in their stomach.

“Haha, you dropped something there,” they joked. 

Oh, who were they kidding — even if the cat understood them, there was no way she would buy it. Not when her intention was so clear, so unmistakable. Not when those impossibly intelligent eyes were boring into theirs, waiting for them to make a move.

Mizuki would not touch the key.

A few more seconds passed. The cat bent down and picked up the key with her mouth. She jumped into their lap again, closing the distance between them. Mizuki’s heart rate spiked.

The cat silently commanded them with her eyes. Mizuki sighed. “Look, I’m— I’m not taking it. I can’t.”

She tilted her head, a question in her eyes. Mizuki was suddenly struck with an image of Mafuyu from their date just a couple of days ago, with her head tilted curiously just like this. 

Their heart clenched.

“I simply can’t,” they said. “I don’t know if she told you to find someone to give the key to on top of letting yourself be chased around or something, but I’m not the right person for it. Find someone else.”

The cat stared blankly at them. 

“I would even attach it back onto your collar for you. Just… you've chosen the wrong— whoa!”

The cat suddenly stood up on her hind legs, placing her paws on their shoulders. The key in her mouth was a mere hair’s breadth away from their face, the sight of it pressing insistently into their retina. Reflexively, they pushed her away — picking her up and holding her at arm’s length. 

“No, I’m not gonna take it.” The cat squirmed in their grasp, indignant. “Find someone else. I’m gonna repeat that until you get it, even if you’re a cat. Find someone— ah!”

The cat successfully squirmed out of their grasp — truly a slippery bastard! — and landed on the table. 

The moment her feet touched the solid surface, she pounced.

“AAAH!”

A slip. Mizuki felt gravity pull at them—

Thud!

…

Somehow, in their surprised flailing, Mizuki had found themself lying on the floor of their bedroom, groaning from the impact of their fall on their poor behind. The chair had fallen with them — they had probably leaned too far back — pressing uncomfortably into their back. Their legs were still dangling off the chair’s edge, albeit flipped perpendicularly. Their arms were spread out, braced against the floor.

It hurt. Not just their back. They felt like their soul had just aged a few years.

Not their best moment.

They were spared no more than a second after they blearily blinked their eyes open before the cat appeared again, full weight bearing down on their chest. She looked down at them, key still in her mouth. In her eyes, the same expectant look. 

Suddenly, Mizuki felt so tired.

“Please,” they said weakly. “I’m not the person you think I am. I’m not the person she thinks I am.” They squeezed their eyes shut and hid it behind their forearm, shielding themself from the cat’s burning gaze — though no matter how many layers they put up, they could not shield themself from the surge of self-loathing that welled up within. “She’ll hate me, if she just knows. I don’t deserve her. She deserves so much better than me…”

The cat’s weight was unmoving in the face of their spiel. They swallowed thickly, willing back the tears pressing behind their eyelids.

“Please, just— take it away.”

Take it away before she finds out .

Mizuki had no idea how long they’d laid there. It simultaneously felt like too long and too quick before suddenly the weight on their chest disappeared, and they chanced a peek out. 

The cat was gone, along with the key.

Mizuki didn’t feel relieved. Instead, the loathing threatened to consume them whole.

———

The cat hadn’t come back in a few days.

Possibly never again.

Mizuki sighed, stabbing the needle into the fabric. It was probably for the best. Being associated with them had never done anyone any good, and that might extend to cats as well. The dubious connection between them and the cat, if found out by the public, might subsequently bring their tenuous connection with Mafuyu into question. And while Mizuki could stand getting harassed about it, they would not stand for getting Mafuyu involved — not when she had finally achieved some sort of peace for once since the start of this whole ordeal.

(Last night, they caught themself getting out the old bowl they had reserved for the cat, hand halfway through reaching out to the milk bottle. The shop had been closed for the day. If this had been a normal day, she would have been here soon, if not already.

Instead, Mizuki only sighed, and closed the pantry.)

Descending into loneliness , a book by Akiyama Mizuki. Chapter seven: developing a yearning for a non-sentient animal with which you have an unclear relationship.

They were somewhat thankful that it had been a slow day so far. They only had so much energy to keep up the smile — a quarter of which had been depleted by their gloomy mood. Now they had time to recharge between each patron visit — and stew in their own thoughts. Over a cat. Like they had just had a really bad breakup.

Good Amaterasu above, get a grip Mizuki.

It’s a freaking cat.

Mizuki sighed again. Maybe they should drop by Rui’s place after closing today.

It wasn’t like they had anything to do in the evening anyway.

The bell jingled as the door to the shop swung open. Mizuki hastily wiped the melancholy off their face, and looked up with a smile.

Said smile immediately faltered, as they took in the sight of Asahina Mafuyu.

She looked… different. For once, she wasn’t sporting her usual empty smile. Her outfit was modest today — just a simple knee-length dress. Her hair was just the slightest bit unkempt, curls of hair flowing freely over her shoulder — though in Mizuki’s opinion, it just gave her that sort of wild beauty, and made them want to run their hand through her soft, lustrous purple locks even more.

The fact that they were having these thoughts about her was terrifying. 

Their eyes met — and Mizuki saw something simmer beneath that deep violet curtain. Something new. Something they couldn’t quite read.

“Oh, Mafuyu! Good morning!” They greeted, their own laugh sounding awkward to their ears. “To what do I owe the pleasure? Your order isn’t quite ready yet…”

Mafuyu shook her head. “I’m not here about that.”

She approached the counter, once again submerging them in the full radiance of her presence from up close. Subconsciously, they leaned back in their chair. She produced something from her hand, which they hadn’t noticed her coming in with — a mini set of royal clothes, similar to the set they currently had sitting on the side dresser.

Right, they had let the cat leave with the outfit on.

“Is this yours?”

“Ah, yeah. I got kinda— inspired one night, and decided to make it,” they laughed apologetically. “Sorry for not asking you first. You can keep it, if you want — completely free of charge! Just think of it as a gift! Of course, if you don’t, that’s okay too!”

“I don’t mind,” Mafuyu shook her head. “I’ve found that I rather like it, I think.”

She didn’t sound like she was being ingenuine. Mizuki’s smile regained just the tiniest bit of sincerity. “That’s great, then!”

“On top of that,” Mafuyu continued, holding out her other hand. “I believe this belongs to you as well.”

In her palm, the golden key.

Mizuki’s smile froze.

“I think you made a mistake,” they said after a moment too long, chuckling. “I haven’t lost any keys recently.”

“Why don’t you let me decide that for myself?” Mafuyu muttered.

Mizuki blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“You said I deserved better than you,” Mafuyu said, her voice slowly rising in octaves. “Why don’t you let me decide that? Why do you think you know what’s better for me?”

“Wait, calm down!” the pinkette held up a hand. “What are you saying? I don’t understand—”

Wait.

Mafuyu slowly breathed in, then out. Her demeanor seemed to have calmed somewhat, even if the anger(?) lingered in the depth of her purple eyes. 

“I said,” she repeated, slowly. “Why don’t you let me decide whether you’re the right person for me or not?”

Wait .

“W-Wait,” Mizuki stuttered out, ignoring all the different implications Mafuyu’s words were giving their mind right now — all of which made no sense . “Where did this come from?” They forced out a laugh, and joked. “Don’t tell me this is a confession…?”

Mafuyu’s gaze was steady. “Maybe it is.”

Mizuki’s breath hitched. 

“I don’t know what I’m feeling, exactly,” Mafuyu continued as Mizuki stared at her in shock — eyes cast down, hand gripping her chest and murmuring. “All I’m certain of is that whenever I’m with you, I feel… something. It’s painful at times, but I’ve decided that… it’s not a bad feeling. And the thought of leaving you…”

She trailed off, then shook her head. She held out the golden key in her palm again, drawing Mizuki’s eyes to it.

“The choice is yours. I understand if you don’t feel the same, but I just felt that I needed to clear things up somehow. If you don’t want it,” she looked away, “I understand. I won’t bother you again.”

Mafuyu had never looked more fragile than that moment, more vulnerable. Her presence felt so thin, as if she could disappear any second. Mizuki was suddenly overcome with the desire to reach out and make sure that she was there, that she was solid in front of them. The edge of her visage wavered in the sunlight, on the verge of blending together.

So they did.

Their hand found her cheek, fingertips ghosting over her skin as they brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. Despite their careful touch, their skin felt like it was on fire. Then she turned to look at them, gaze searching — and all of their screaming thoughts and screaming emotions quieted down for just a moment. Their hand dropped to her wrist and held onto it — not her hand, not yet — letting her solid presence seep through their palm and soothe their worry.

She was wearing their ribbon in her hair, they realized. 

“I have a question,” they whispered.

Mafuyu’s eyes gave them the ‘go ahead’.

“Can you talk to your cat?”

“Ah.” Mafuyu hummed. “No.” Mizuki was almost disappointed when she continued. “I’m the cat.”

What .

“Allow me to explain,” she calmly said as Mizuki gawked at her. “Do you mind if I close the blind?”

“No,” was all Mizuki could manage, utterly confused. “Go ahead.”

Mafuyu pulled the blind close, effectively blocking the view of people outside the shop. She then turned to Mizuki and, under their questioning gaze, snapped her fingers—

—and turned into a cat.

Mizuki screamed, and fell off the chair.

“Are you okay?” they opened their eyes to Mafuyu’s blank, unimpressed gaze above. Somehow, they felt like this had happened before. “Do you need help?”

“No! I mean, yes! I mean—” Mizuki floundered. They scrambled up onto the counter, wide-eyed. “You’re a shapeshifter?”

“Yes,” came Mafuyu’s deadpan response.

“Can you turn into anything else?”

“No, just the cat.”

“That’s—” Mizuki was gonna burst with excitement. “SO CUTE!”

Mafuyu stared blankly at them. “You’re not scared?”

“No? Why would I be?” they blinked at her. “It’s not like you’re a youkai who’s gonna eat me, right?”

“Right,” Mafuyu gave a dark chuckle. Mizuki felt a chill run down their spine all of a sudden.

“Hey! I’m putting my trust in you here!”

“You have a pretty messed up survival instinct,” Mafuyu stated.

Mizuki shrugged. “Haven’t killed me so far.”

Mafuyu snorted — a very un-ladylike sound. “You’re weird.”

Mizuki had heard that sentence so many times before, yet this time felt different. They grinned. “Said the woman who let people chase her around everyday and proposed to the one person who didn’t.”

“You still haven’t answered my question, by the way,” Mafuyu reminded them.

Mizuki sat up fully. Their hands trembled — both from the effort, and the nerves. Despite still feeling like their stomach would turn itself inside out from the anxieties, however, the overwhelming desire inside them told them what they needed to say.

“Can we at least date first?” they asked, suddenly timid. Marriage felt too scary for them right now, but they could manage this. “I don’t know if I’m ready to commit just yet…”

“Of course,” Mafuyu hummed — her melodic voice and affirmation, a soothing balm. “Whatever makes you comfortable.”

Though wavering, Mizuki smiled. A small and shaky, but undoubtedly hopeful smile.

Maybe one day, they would finally have the courage to accept that key.

(They will.)