You are a cat. You visit the house of a novelist.
You are a cat. Any kind of cat is fine. Gender, fur color, and patterns are all free. Even a beastman is OK. A talking cat or one that conveniently transforms into human form is also fine.
The scent of the wind has changed. The heaviness of summer has faded, and the air crossing the garden is faintly cool. The angle of the sun is lower, and the light stretching across the veranda reaches further back than it did a month ago.
An overgrown garden. An open sliding door. Deep inside, there is a man.
A navy kimono. The arms held up by the cord are thicker than expected. A thin tablet glows white on the low table, and the man is glaring at it. His fingers move. They stop. Right now, they remain still.
—With a soft exhale, the man looks up. He brushes back his bangs, looks at the ceiling, and then his gaze drops down.
It stops at the veranda. Eyes meet. He has a sharp, intimidating look.
Release Date 2026.08.24 / Last Updated 2026.08.24