Chapter 42: True Performance
Kouya yanked open the curtain, startled by the sudden sound of movement outside—and there she was. A tiny figure crouched on the edge of the balcony, half-hidden by the shadows, her small hands gripping the rail before she lightly leapt over it with an agility no normal human could manage.
It was a girl—delicate, slender, and almost unreal in her smallness.
To call her small would be an understatement. She barely stood a meter twenty, shorter than most elementary students, her proportions childlike yet strangely graceful. It was the kind of height that screamed, touch her and you're in jail. Three years minimum, life sentence if unlucky.
But that wasn't the shocking part.
What drew Kouya's attention immediately were the details—the soft white cat ears twitching on her head, the long tail swaying nervously behind her, and those enormous amber eyes glimmering faintly in the dim light. Her cheeks bore a faint dusting of fur, subtle but visible up close. It was Rina, unmistakably—but not quite as she'd been before.
"Rina?" Kouya muttered, his brow furrowing. "Who else could it be, damn it."
"Meow?!" she squeaked, her face pale, her trembling frame betraying fear and exhaustion. When her eyes met his, they instantly brightened, as if seeing him filled her with relief.
"Meow meow meow?"
Kouya exhaled slowly, twitching the corner of his mouth. "Speak human language."
Since their return from the hot spring resort, the car had stopped here first. So her finding this place wasn't exactly strange—but the timing, the desperation in her face, something about it was off. Something had clearly gone wrong.
"Meow!" she cried again, more frantic this time.
Kouya rubbed his temple, turned on his heel, and walked back inside without a word.
Don't think I don't know what you're doing! You called Chiba Ruri Lady Sister before—so why the hell are you stuck meowing at me now?
"Hey, where are you? Don't go AFK! You'll ruin the team score!" Gabriel's voice blared through the speakers.
"Yeah, yeah…" Kouya muttered, sitting back down. He flicked his mouse, sidestepped cleanly, and began cutting through enemies with ruthless precision. He just wanted to end this match and figure out what the hell was going on.
Behind him, Rina slipped quietly inside, her bare feet making no sound on the floor. She hesitated, watching him play, but when he didn't even glance her way, her little face crumpled. Her lips trembled. For a long moment, she stood frozen—then bit her lip hard, her eyes filling with resolve. Slowly, she sank to her knees into an M-shape, her trembling hand gripping the zipper of her hoodie.
When Kouya finally won the match and reached for his mug of water, his eyes flicked over—and froze solid.
What. The. Hell.
Rina was kneeling on the floor, one hand pressed to the ground for support, the other clutching her zipper between her thumb and forefinger. Her face was flushed, eyes closed tight, her breathing uneven as she began slowly pulling it down.
"Meow~" she whimpered softly, trembling.
The sight hit him like a slap. His jaw dropped. Two tiny tears sparkled at the corners of her closed eyes, sliding down her cheeks as her ears drooped in shame.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Kouya blurted. His voice made her flinch.
Why… why does this feel so damn familiar?
He stared for a moment, trying to remember. But before he could speak again, Rina's trembling only worsened. She took his silence as permission, biting her lip harder as she tugged again on the zipper.
It caught. The metal jammed halfway down, snagged on the fabric.
Eyes squeezed shut, she didn't notice. Her whole body trembled like she thought she'd already exposed herself completely. A tear fell, splashing against the floor and scattering into shimmering fragments.
You've got to be kidding me. Are you seriously trying to seduce me? Because it's not working! If you're going to unzip it, at least do it properly!
No—wait, that's not what I meant!
He rubbed his forehead. Not that he actually wanted her to strip, but watching her fumble halfway through was infuriating. And seriously, who would get turned on by a flat-chested kitten wearing cartoon underwear? Compared to Vigne, this was a joke—heaven and earth difference.
Flat-chested catgirl! Only wild horses would appreciate such wide plains!
Still… her skin really was pale, almost luminous under the light. A healthy milk-white tone. The neckline of her hoodie had slipped, exposing a delicate collarbone and the faint outline of two tiny, flat mounds.
Kouya's expression darkened. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice sharper this time.
Rina froze mid-motion. Her small body shook violently, as if her mind had crashed entirely. She didn't respond, only sat there waiting, trembling, eyes still closed.
You've got to be kidding me! You just barge in, start undressing, and show off your kiddie underwear? You think you're some kind of succubus? This isn't even remotely seductive!
When he didn't speak for a few seconds, she peeked up through her lashes. Fear and confusion filled her wide amber eyes, yet she forced herself to move forward—crawling slowly toward him, her breath shaky, her face burning red.
Her trembling hand reached out—toward his crotch.
Kouya's eyes widened. "What the fuck are you doing?!"
This was spiraling fast.
Rina knelt right in front of him, her posture stiff, her lips parting slightly. Her breath was short, her expression lost somewhere between fear and determination. One small hand hovered near his zipper; the other curled into a fist near her cheek, trembling violently. The entire scene triggered something deep in his memory.
And then it hit him like a lightning bolt.
This… this was straight out of My After-Class Training Plan!
That ridiculous H-manga where the girl next to the protagonist gets drugged, dressed in a cat costume, and "trained." The exact pose, the same trembling lips—it was all identical.
You've got to be kidding me. She's acting it out? Method acting, really? Bravo! Ten out of ten for accuracy!
No—wait! That girl had curves! You're not even close! And what, you're skipping straight to the finale? The "morning bite" scene? It's nighttime, damn it!
Hold up. In that story, after every "bite," the guy would grant her one wish during the next session. So… is that your plan? Trying to earn a promise from me this way?
Don't make me laugh! That's just fanservice! Every male lead in those stories is a degenerate. And even if I were that guy—we're not even built for that kind of pairing! You'd snap in half before anything happened!
Just as her trembling fingers were about to brush his zipper, Kouya's reflexes kicked in. His hand shot out, grabbing her wrist firmly.
Her wrist was paper-thin, shockingly fragile—just a bit of pressure could break it. Her skin was cold, almost unnaturally so, and there was no warmth beneath it.
"If you won't talk," Kouya said, his tone calm but commanding, "can you at least write?"
Rina blinked up at him through tears, trying to process his words. Then she nodded slowly.
Kouya turned, grabbed a notepad and pen from the desk, and handed them to her. "I'll ask. You write."
The little catgirl obeyed immediately, her small hands trembling as she held the pen. Her wide eyes flicked up to him once, then back to the paper.
"Why did you come to me?" he asked.
Now he understood why she hadn't tried earlier. Her grip on the pen was awkward and shaky, her handwriting messy and childlike—letters uneven, loops too big, several words misspelled—but still legible.
"P-please… help Lady Sister!" she wrote, the words crooked but heartfelt.
"Lady Sister? Chiba Ruri?" Kouya repeated, frowning. He remembered the call from the night before—the shrine maiden's soft voice, hesitant and uncertain, as if she wanted to say something but couldn't. Then she'd hung up. Was she in danger?
"What happened to her?"
Rina sniffled, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. Under Kouya's gaze, she lowered her head again, pressing the pen harder against the page. Her hand shook with every stroke, but she forced herself to keep writing.
The words came out messy and broken, but Kouya pieced them together line by line, his expression slowly darkening as the full picture began to take shape—