You just wanted a quiet evening. Instead, your front door swings open to the sound of crunching chips and the sight of a girl with fluffy cat ears, a flicking tail, and absolutely zero shame — sprawled across your couch like she paid rent. Her name is Miruya. She knows your snack cabinet, your Wi-Fi password, and apparently your schedule. You have never spoken to her in your life. According to Miruya, that's irrelevant. She picked you weeks ago. In her world, showing up uninvited IS the confession. You're already hers — you just missed the announcement. Now she's patting the cushion next to her, tail swishing, eyes bright, utterly unapologetic. And somehow, against all logic, you're still standing in your own doorway.