The doorknob was cold under my fingers.
On the other side of the wood, I could hear breathing. Two people. One rapid and anxious—Mizuki. The other slow and controlled—Kurumi, probably. They were waiting. Waiting for me to open the door. Waiting to see if I was alive. Waiting to see what I had become.
My fox ears flattened against my skull. My tail—my tail, something I still wasn't used to having—wrapped itself nervously around my leg. Every instinct I had was screaming at me to hide, to make an excuse, to tell them to come back later when I had figured out how to explain... everything.
But Mizuki had come all this way. She had argued with her maid. She had confessed her feelings in a public hallway.
She deserved more than a closed door.
"Rory," I whispered. "Tamamo. Hide. Please. Just until I figure out how to—"
"Already on it," Rory whispered back. She and Tamamo retreated to the bedroom, the door left slightly ajar—enough to hear, enough to intervene if something went wrong. Rory gave me a thumbs-up before disappearing from view. Tamamo's sapphire eyes met mine for just a moment, and she nodded. You can do this.
I turned back to the door. Took a breath. And then, before I could lose my nerve, I pressed myself against the wall beside the doorframe—out of sight—and spoke through the wood.
"Mizuki."
My voice came out wrong. Too high. Too soft. I tried to force it lower, deeper, something closer to what I used to sound like. The result was... a bad one, like someone doing a bad impression of themselves.
"I'm here. I'm okay."
The silence on the other side was deafening.
"César?" Mizuki's voice was hesitant. "Your voice sounds... different."
"Does it?" I winced. Even I could hear how fake I sounded. "It's probably just the door. The wood. It, uh, distorts things. Acoustically."
"That's not how acoustics work," Kurumi said flatly.
From the bedroom, I heard a tiny snort. Rory. Of course she was listening. Of course she found this funny.
"Only someone in love would notice a change like that," she whispered, loud enough for me to hear.
"Just saying."
I felt my face flush.
"Mizuki," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I need you to listen to me. What I'm about to tell you... what you're about to see... it's going to sound strange. Really strange. And I need you to believe me. Can you do that?"
Another pause. Then, softer: "César, I saw you get attacked by something that wasn't human. I saw you put yourself between me and... and whatever that was. I've been up all night thinking you were dead." Her voice cracked. "I'll believe anything you tell me. Just... please. Let me see you're okay."
My throat tightened.
"Mizuki..."
"I trust you," she said. "Whatever it is. However strange. I trust you."
I closed my eyes. Breathed. Once. Twice.
And then I opened the door.
Just a crack at first. Just enough for my face to show through the gap. The light from the hallway fell across my features—the blue hair, the red eyes, the fox ears pressed flat against my skull.
Mizuki went completely still.
Her blue eyes—those analytical eyes that never missed anything—swept over my face. The different jawline. The softer features. The ears. The hair. She took it all in, and for a long, terrible moment, she said absolutely nothing.
"Uh," I said. "Things... happened."
A beat of silence.
Then, from the bedroom, barely audible: "'Things happened'? THAT'S your explanation?!"
"Rory! Just let him be!"
I ignored both goddesses with practiced ease.
Mizuki still hadn't moved. Her lips parted slightly, as if she were about to speak, but no sound came out. Beside her, Kurumi had gone rigid, one hand moving almost imperceptibly toward something in her sleeve. A weapon, probably. Great.
"You should come in," I said, opening the door wider. "Both of you. It's... it's a long story, and I'd rather not tell it in the hallway."
Kurumi's eyes narrowed. "Miss Hoshikawa, we don't know this person. This could be a trap. The same creature that attacked you could be—"
"She's not a trap," Mizuki said quietly.
"Miss—"
"I know she's not." Mizuki's voice was steady now. She was still staring at my face, but something in her expression had shifted. The shock was giving way to something else. Recognition. "That thing in the alley... when you told me to run... you did the same thing just now."
"The same thing?"
"You opened the door a crack instead of swinging it wide. You stayed behind it. You gave yourself an escape route." Her lips curved into a mischievous smile.
"That's such a César thing to do."
I blinked. "I... what?"
"You're still you." She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"You're different, but you're still you. I can tell."
From the bedroom, Rory's whisper was triumphant: "Told you. TOLD you."
Kurumi still looked unconvinced, but Mizuki was already stepping forward. "If she wanted to hurt us, she wouldn't have opened the door. She wouldn't be standing there looking like she's about to throw up from nervousness." She paused. "You do look like you're about to throw up, by the way."
"Thanks. That's very reassuring."
"It wasn't meant to be." But she was smiling now—a real smile.
I stepped back and gestured toward the apartment. "Come in. Please. I have... well, I have a sofa. It's not much, but it's something."
They entered. Kurumi first, her eyes sweeping the room with professional efficiency—checking corners, noting exits, cataloging potential threats. Mizuki followed, her gaze fixed on me rather than the apartment.
The sofa in question was... well, it was my sofa. Second-hand. Slightly damaged. One of the cushions had a tear that I'd patched with duct tape, and the left armrest was held together with hope and a few strategically placed screws.
"I found it on a mountain.....of stuff," I said, as they stared at it.
"A Monday morning. Before the garbage truck came. I grabbed it as fast as I could, but I still ended up late for class." I paused.
"I washed it. Thoroughly. Multiple times. It's clean. Probably."
Mizuki sat down without hesitation. Kurumi remained standing.
"That's..." Mizuki started.
"Disgusting," Kurumi finished.
"A little disgusting, a little survivor style, too," Mizuki agreed.
"But also very you."
I sat down across from them on the floor—there wasn't another chair, and my desk chair was buried under laundry I hadn't had time to deal with. My tail wrapped itself around my waist almost protectively.
"So," I said. "You probably have questions."
"Just a few," Mizuki said. Her voice was dry, but her eyes were still fixed on me with that intensity I knew so well. "What happened? How are you alive? Why do you look like... like that? What are the ears? And the tail? And—"
"One at a time." I took a breath. "The thing that attacked you. It was an alien. A shapeshifter. It wanted to take your place so it could get close to Dr. Ark and use his engine to go home."
"I understood that part. Sort of." She frowned while she stared at me.
"So you're the alien," she said slowly.
"Technically. Yes."
"The one that attacked me."
"Not the same consciousness. Just the body. The original owner is dead. It's just... the vehicle. And I'm the driver."
"What I don't understand is..." She gestured vaguely at my entire body. "This."
"I died," I said. The words came out flatter than I intended. "The alien. It killed me. Dissolved me. I was... gone."
Mizuki's face went pale. "But you're—"
"Here. Yeah." I looked down at my hands.
"Rory brought me back."
"Rory." Mizuki said the name slowly, testing it.
"You've mentioned that name before. Your neighbor. The one who thinks expired yogurt is a challenge. You said she was eccentric. You never said she could..."
She trailed off, as if the word itself was too ridiculous to say aloud.
"She's not my neighbor," I admitted.
"She's... um."
"Hello!"
Mizuki screamed.
"What—who—how—?!"
Rory was standing on the armrest of the sofa, right next to Mizuki's elbow—she had been there for at least the last minute, having crept out of the bedroom while I was talking. Her arms were crossed, her red eyes gleaming with amusement, her gothic dress immaculate as always.
"You were—?" Mizuki turned to look at the spot where Rory had been standing. Then back at Rory. Then back at me. "She was there the whole time?"
"She likes to make dramatic entrances," I said.
"I DO like to make dramatic entrances,"
"I've been here the whole time," Rory said cheerfully.
"Well, not the whole time. I was in the bedroom for the boring parts. But I've been here for a while now."
"You—she—there's a—" Mizuki's composure, usually unshakeable, had completely deserted her. She was staring at Rory with an expression of pure, unfiltered shock.
Kurumi had moved faster than I could follow. She was now positioned between Mizuki and Rory, one hand extended in a guard stance, the other reaching for something concealed beneath her uniform.
"Relax," Rory said, utterly unconcerned.
"If I wanted to hurt you, you'd already be dead. No offense, but you wouldn't win"
"None taken," Kurumi said, her voice tight.
"Rory," I said,
"Maybe don't threaten the maid who's probably trained to kill people with her bare hands?"
"She started it. She did the thing with the hand." Rory hopped off the armrest and walked across the back of the sofa with the casual grace of a cat.
"Anyway. I'm Rory Gremory. Goddess of war and death. Wife of that idiot over there." She jerked a thumb toward me.
"And the one who killed the thing that killed him. You're welcome."
Mizuki's head swiveled toward me. "Wife?!"
"It's complicated," I said.
"It's not complicated at all," Rory said.
"I'm his wife. She over there is his wife." She pointed toward the bedroom, where Tamamo was now visible in the doorway, her fox ears twitching nervously, and closing the door right after.
"He is my husband"
"We're a family, well, more lovers."
"See, Easy peasy lemon squeezy"
Tamamo stepped forward, her orange kimono rustling softly. She bowed—a formal, graceful gesture that somehow looked perfectly natural despite her twelve-centimeter height.
"I am Tamamo-no-Mae," she said. "It's an honor to finally meet you, Hoshikawa-sama. César has spoken of you often."
"He has?" Mizuki's voice was faint.
"All the time," Rory confirmed. "It's honestly a little annoying. 'Mizuki this, Mizuki that, Mizuki has this idea for a magic system, Mizuki said something funny today.' You'd think she was the only thing he ever talked about."
"Rory," I growled.
"What? It's true."
Mizuki was staring at Tamamo. Then at Rory. Then at me. Her expression was caught somewhere between shock, fascination, and something that might have been wonder.
"You've been living with them this whole time," she said slowly. "All those sessions. All those conversations. They were with you. In your backpack. Listening."
"Pretty much," I admitted.
"That's why you always had the backpack with you."
"Also pretty much."
Mizuki was quiet for a moment. Then, unexpectedly, she laughed. It wasn't a hysterical laugh, or a disbelieving laugh. It was the laugh of someone who had just solved a puzzle that had been bothering them for months.
"That explains so much," she said. "You were always so weird. So careful. So... strange. I thought it was just your personality. But you were hiding this." She gestured at Rory and Tamamo. "You were already living in a fantasy world before I even met you."
"The weirdness was already there," Rory said. "We just added to it."
"We did not add to it," I protested. "I was perfectly normal before—"
"You talked to plastic figures for ten years."
"That's—that's different—"
"How is it different?"
"It just is!"
Mizuki watched this exchange with an expression of dawning comprehension. "This is what you do," she said. "This is how you talk to each other. All the time."
"Pretty much constantly," Tamamo confirmed.
"It's exhausting," I said.
Mizuki was quiet for a moment, processing. Then a new light appeared in her eyes—not the confusion of before, but something sharper. More calculating. The analytical gleam I'd seen during our writing sessions.
"If you're in the body of an alien," she said, "an alien that came from outer space..."
"Yes?"
"Doesn't that mean there's a spaceship? Somewhere? With technology we've never seen?"
I blinked. "I... hadn't thought about that."
"The rabbit girl—the slime—she needed Dr. Ark's engine to go home. She said her ship was damaged. But she didn't say it was destroyed." Mizuki leaned forward, her earlier fear replaced by intense curiosity. "If she had a ship, and you have her body, then technically, that ship is yours now."
"I don't know where it is," I said. "I don't even know how to access her memories. I don't feel 'alien-y' at all. I'm just... me. In a different body."
"But the potential is there." Mizuki's eyes were practically glowing now. "A real alien spaceship. Think of the technology. The knowledge. The—"
"The danger," Kurumi cut in, her voice sharp. "If there is a ship, and someone finds it, do you have any idea what would happen? Governments. Corporations. People who would do anything to get their hands on alien technology. Miss Hoshikawa, this is not an academic exercise. This is a security threat."
"That's why we'd need to find it first," Mizuki said.
"Mizuki," I said. "Even if there is a ship, I have no idea where to start looking. The slime didn't exactly leave me an instruction manual, and I've been a little busy having an economic crisis as of late."
"Although the alien mentioned something about needing the Ark Engine to repair her ship. So there's a ship out there somewhere.
"This is insane," Kurumi muttered. It was the first thing she'd said in several minutes.
"Very insane," I agreed.
"And you expect us to believe all of this?"
"I don't expect anything." I met her eyes. "I'm telling you what happened. You can believe it or not. But Mizuki was attacked, and I did what I could, and this is the result. That's the truth."
Kurumi stared at me for a long moment. Then, slowly, some of the tension went out of her shoulders.
"You saved her life," she said quietly. "Whatever else you are... you saved her life. That counts for something."
"It counts for everything," Mizuki said. She stood up from the sofa, crossed the small space between us, and knelt down in front of me. Her blue eyes were level with mine now, and in them I saw something I'd never expected to see directed at me.
"I don't care what you look like," she said. "I don't care if you're a man or a woman or a slime or anything else. You're still César. You're still the person who told me my work was bad when no one else would. You're still the person who taught me how to imagine. You're still the person who walked me to the bus stop and made sure I was safe. You're still the person who threw yourself at a monster to save my life." Her voice wavered. "You're still the person I..."
She stopped. Swallowed. Started again.
"You're still the person who matters most to me in this entire country. Maybe in the entire world. And I'm not going to lose you just because you look different now."
I couldn't speak. My throat had closed up completely.
"Also," she added, and a hint of her usual dry humor crept back into her voice, "the fox ears are very cute. I've been wanting to say that since you opened the door."
From the sofa, Rory cackled. "I like her. Can we keep her?"
"We're not keeping her," I managed. "She's not a stray cat."
"I don't know," Mizuki said, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. "I might be open to negotiation."
But then her expression shifted. The smile faded. Her hands, which had been resting on her knees, clenched into fists.
"I need to apologize," she said. Her voice was quiet now, stripped of its usual confidence. "Formally. Properly."
"Mizuki, you don't—"
"Please." She met my eyes, and the intensity there made me fall silent. "This is important. In my culture... when you have wronged someone, especially someone who has saved your life, there is a proper way to apologize. And I need to do this."
Before I could protest, she shifted position. From kneeling, she placed both hands on the floor in front of her and lowered her forehead to touch them. Dogeza. The deepest, most formal apology in Japanese culture. Something you did when words alone weren't enough.
"I am deeply, profoundly sorry," she said, her voice muffled against the floor. "You warned me. Multiple times. You told me to be careful. You told me this wasn't Japan. You told me to call my driver. And I didn't listen. I wanted to be normal. I wanted to feel free. And because of my carelessness, you were hurt. You died. Because of me."
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
"Mizuki—"
"I put you in danger. I made you choose between your safety and mine. And because of that choice, you lost your body. Your life. Everything you were. And I can never give that back to you." Her voice cracked. "I can never make this right. But I can tell you that I am sorry. More sorry than I have ever been for anything in my entire life. And I will spend as long as it takes to make amends. However long that is. Whatever that requires."
The room was silent.
Even Rory, for once, had nothing to say.
I looked down at Mizuki Hoshikawa—heiress to a corporate empire, top of her class, proud and brilliant and impossibly stubborn—prostrating herself on the floor of my tiny apartment, apologizing as if she had committed an unforgivable crime.
"Mizuki," I said. My voice came out steadier than I felt. "Look at me."
Slowly, hesitantly, she raised her head. Her eyes were wet. Mizuki Hoshikawa, who never cried, who never showed weakness, who had been called a psychopath by people who should have known better—was crying.
"You didn't do this to me," I said. "The alien did. The slime. The thing that was stalking you for weeks. That's who's responsible. Not you."
"But if I had been more careful—"
"Then maybe the alien would have found another way. Maybe it would have attacked you somewhere else. Maybe I wouldn't have been there to stop it." I reached out—hesitated—and then, carefully, placed my hand on her shoulder. "You can't blame yourself for what a monster did. That's not how it works."
"But you—"
"I made a choice," I said. "I saw you in danger, and I chose to help. That was my decision. Not yours. You don't get to take responsibility for something I did willingly."
She stared at me. Her eyes were still wet, but something in her expression was shifting. The guilt was still there, but there was something else now. Something that looked almost like hope.
"You really believe that," she said.
"I do."
"That's..." She shook her head. "That's such a César thing to say."
"I've been told I'm predictable."
"Not predictable. Consistent." She sat back on her heels, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "You always think the best of people. Even when they don't deserve it."
"Althug," I said, "this whole thing is kind of your fault indeed."
Mizuki blinked. "What?"
"Not the alien," I clarified.
"But the other thing. The being careless thing. I told you. Multiple times. 'Be careful, Mizuki. This isn't Japan. Call your driver.' But nooo, the corporate princess wanted to take the bus. Wanted to be normal. And look what happened."
Mizuki's expression shifted from guilt to indignation. "I—that's—you can't just—"
"I mean, really," I continued, warming to the topic. "What was the plan? Take public transport through a city you don't know, at night, by yourself, and hope nothing bad happened? That's not a plan. That's a disaster waiting to happen. And it did. And now I have fox ears. Fox ears, Mizuki. Do you know how hard it is to sleep with fox ears? They keep catching on the pillow."
"You have fox ears because of the alien, not because of me!"
"The alien that was only able to attack you because you didn't call your driver!"
"I wanted to feel free for one day! Is that a crime?!"
"In this city? Kind of, yes!"
We were both nearly shouting now. Rory was watching us with an expression of absolute delight, like a spectator at a tennis match. Tamamo had her face buried in her hands. Kurumi looked like she was reconsidering every life choice that had led her to this moment.
And then, somehow, Mizuki and I locked eyes—and we both burst out laughing at the same time.
"I'm sorry," she gasped, clutching her stomach. "I'm sorry, I know this is serious, but—"
"You look so offended," I managed.
"Like I just insulted your entire family line."
"You basically did! You called me careless!"
"Because you were!"
"I know! But you're not supposed to just say it!"
From the sofa, Rory let out a theatrical sigh. "This is very touching and all, but can we address the elephant in the room?"
"There's an elephant?" Tamamo asked innocently.
"The confession. The hallway. 'I'm in love with him.' Ring any bells?"
Mizuki's face turned a shade of crimson that clashed magnificently with her blonde hair.
"You heard that."
"Fox ears." I tapped my beanie. "Very sensitive."
"We all heard it," Tamamo added helpfully. "The whole building probably heard it. You were quite loud."
"I was... emotional," Tamamo added.
"You were passionate," Rory said.
"It was beautiful. Very dramatic. I approved."
"I wasn't trying to be dramatic. I was just—" Mizuki stopped. Took a breath. Straightened her dress.
"I meant every word."
The room went quiet.
"I know," I said. "
I mean, I didn't know until today. But I know now."
"And?"
"And... I don't know." I looked down at my hands again.
"Mizuki, I literally died yesterday. I woke up this morning in a body that isn't mine. I have fox ears that keep getting caught on doorframes. I'm still figuring out how to walk without tripping over my own hips. I don't know what I'm feeling. I don't know what I'm supposed to feel."
"I dont know what to say"
"He never knows what to say like 80% of the time." Rory can't help herself.
"But you're important to me," I continued. "More than I realized. When I saw that thing attacking you, I didn't think. I just moved."
"I just didn't want to lose you"
"Then," he said, and his voice was firmer than I expected, "if you didn't want to lose me... what am I to you?"
The question hit me like a punch to the gut. What was Mizuki to me? A friend? A student? Something more? I'd been avoiding that question for weeks, hiding it beneath layers of "it's just business" and "we're coworkers" and "she's the heiress to a corporate empire, what could she possibly see in someone like me?"
But now, with my body transformed and her confession still echoing off the hallway walls, I could no longer hide.
"You're..." I began, and the words got stuck in my throat. "You're important. More important than you should be. More important than I have any right to—"
"No." Mizuki stood up. Her stature, normally imposing, looked different now. It wasn't the corporate heiress who was looking at me. It was a young woman who had crossed half the city to see me. "You don't have the right to decide what I feel. That's my decision."
"But—"
"Let me finish." She smoothed her skirt with an unconscious gesture, regaining some of her usual composure. "Last night, when I ran, when I left you behind with that thing... I felt something I'd never felt before. Something worse than fear. Worse than loneliness. It was the certainty that I had lost you. That I would never see you again. That I had never told you what I truly felt."
"Mizuki..."
"And then, this morning, when I got your message... when I knew you were alive..." Her voice cracked. "I knew I couldn't keep pretending. I couldn't keep telling myself this was just a friendship. That our sessions were just business. That you meant nothing to me."
She took a deep breath.
"I love you, César."
The words fell into the room like stones into a pond. Silence. Ripples. Silence again.
"I love you," she repeated, louder. "Not as a teacher. Not as a friend. Not as a fantasy consultant. I love you as... as someone who has found the only person in the world who sees her as she truly is."
My heart was beating so loudly I was sure everyone could hear it. My fox ears, treacherous as always, had perked up completely, pointing toward her as if they didn't want to miss a single syllable.
"I'm in love with you, César." She said it without hesitation, without looking away, without leaving room for doubt. "I love you. As a friend, as a confidant, as the person who taught me that I was worth imagining. And also... in other ways. In every way."
I felt my face flush. My fox ears—cursed treacherous ears—flattened against my skull.
"But I'm..." I gestured vaguely toward my body. "I mean, now I'm..."
"I'm a woman now," I said, and my voice came out weaker than I wanted. "Physically. Completely."
"I know."
"I have breasts. And hips. And a tail. And—"
"I can see that. I'm not blind."
"Then you know that—"
"That you're a woman," she completed. "Yes. I know. I see it. I accept it." Her blue eyes traced my figure with a calmness I couldn't have mustered. "You're a woman. With fox ears. And a tail. And breasts that probably require a specialized bra."
"That was... very specific."
"I'm a Hoshikawa. I notice details."
From the sofa, Rory let out a giggle. "I like this girl. Can we keep her?"
"Rory, please... she's not a stray cat."
"No, no, let me finish." Mizuki raised a hand. "I said I love you, César. I didn't say I love you in spite of this. I said I love you. Period. No conditions. No buts."
"But before I was..."
"A man. Yes." She tilted her head. "And I fell in love with you when you were a man. With the way you spoke. With your brutal honesty. With how you told me my work was bad without sugarcoating it. With how you stayed up late correcting my manuscripts. With how you walked me to the bus stop even though you hate public transportation." She paused. "With how you stepped between a creature and me without thinking twice."
"That was instinct. It wasn't—"
"It was heroism," she interrupted. "You were my ronin. My masterless warrior. My protector." Her lips curved into a small smile. "And now you're a woman. A fox woman. A slime. Whatever you are. And I'm... going to love you just the same."
"But you're not—"
"Lesbian," she said, as if the word were a settled fact. "No. I'm not. I'm not really. I fell in love with a man. With César. With the man you were." She paused. "But the man you were is here. In this body. In this form. And I'm not going to stop loving you just because your wrapping has changed."
"That's..."
"Romantic?" Tamamo suggested from the table.
"Stupid?" Rory offered from the sofa.
"Rash?" Kurumi added, speaking for the first time in several minutes.
From the sofa, Rory burst out laughing.
"THAT'S THE MOST ROMANTIC THING I'VE HEARD IN A THOUSAND YEARS!"
"Rory, shut up."
"I WON'T SHUT UP! The corporate princess just declared herself a lesbian exclusively for you! THAT'S TRUE LOVE!"
"Rory—"
"It's better than my novel! It's better than ALL the novels!"
Mizuki, to my absolute surprise, laughed. A small laugh, almost shy, but real.
"And you... you say you love me. But you fell in love with me when I was... when I was... and I'm not anymore."
Mizuki opened her mouth to respond, but another voice beat her to it.
"Don't mind him, he says it like it's a problem, but...."
"Technically, if there's something he can't stop liking, it's a pretty female body," Rory interrupted from the sofa.
"Don't think he likes men now just because he's a girl."
"He always had a preference for sexualized women."
Everyone turned to her.
"Excuse me?"
"Before. When he was a man. He liked women. A lot. He had a very specific type. Big breasts, fluffy tails, soft voices..." She paused theatrically.
"Basically Tamamo."
"Even now you can see they look like twin sisters if you remove her bangs and she squints a bit like a Japanese girl."
"Rory." My voice was a warning.
"This isn't the time... for these things."
"What? It's true. And he liked me too, of course. But that's because I'm irresistible."
"Rory, you're not helping."
"Of course I'm helping. I'm providing context." She turned to Mizuki with a mischievous smile. "What I mean is that our dear César has always appreciated feminine beauty. So, in a sense, this isn't such a big change in matters of love. It's just... an aesthetic update. A patch. An expansion."
"An expansion?"
"Like when a video game adds downloadable content. Same game, new skin."
"I'm not a video game!"
"Technically you're a slime now. Slimes are video game characters."
"Normally you're one of those low-level monsters they use to farm experience."
"The ones some madman defeats three hundred times to overlevel for the next boss."
"You're a farmable slime girl."
"RORY!"
"TRAITOR!" I shouted.
"They didn't need to know that part!"
"This is betrayal! You're my wives! You're supposed to be on my side!"
"We are on your side," Rory said with a sly smile. "The side where you get more wives. It's a very good side. Very populated. We'll need a bigger table soon."
"Bigger table... Rory, this isn't a game!"
"No, it's not." Her tone changed, becoming more serious. "So listen closely, corporate princess." She turned to Mizuki, her red eyes blazing with intensity. "I'm the first wife, the first one here. Tamamo is the second. The point is: this isn't just any open relationship. This is a family. A very strange family, divine at that. If you want in, you have to accept that. You're not the only one. You won't be the only one. You'll never be the only one. If you don't like that, the door's over there."
She pointed toward the entrance with a gesture of her tiny thumb.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Mizuki looked at Rory. Then at Tamamo. Then at me. Her expression was unreadable.
"And César is the husband. Or the wife. Or... how does that work now?"
"Husband in spirit," Rory said. "Wife in body. We use masculine pronouns for him because that's what he prefers. Mostly. Sometimes we use feminine to annoy him."
"He loves it when we call her 'she' instead of 'he' even though he pretends to be annoyed."
"Just watch how his ears perk up when he hears it."
"Miss Hoshikawa," she said, her voice tense, "this is completely inappropriate. Not only are you considering a romantic relationship with... with a person who technically is no longer legally the same as before, but you're also competing with two... two..." She trailed off. "Two whatever-they-ares. No offense."
"Offense taken," Rory said cheerfully.
"He has a noble heart," Mizuki said. "And he saved my life."
"That doesn't pay the bills."
"Fortunately, I can pay the bills."
"That's not what I..." Kurumi ran a hand over her face.
It was the first time she'd shown anything other than professional control. "Miss. Your father. The company. The expectations. You're the heiress. You're expected to eventually marry and produce an heir. A biological heir. With a man. Something this relationship, by its nature, cannot provide. That's what the family expects. That's what the investors expect. That's what..."
"Kurumi..."
"And what about your position in the company? And the potential scandal? And the fact that this is, objectively, the most absurd situation a Hoshikawa could possibly get into?"
"Kurumi."
"Not to mention you just met... this." She gestured vaguely toward Rory and Tamamo. "Less than ten minutes ago. Don't you think you should take some time to process it before making rash decisions?"
"KURUMI!"
The maid fell silent.
Mizuki turned to her. Her expression was calm, but there was something in her eyes—a cold determination, almost steely—that I hadn't seen before.
"Are you finished?"
Kurumi nodded stiffly.
"Do you know how many sisters I have?"
The maid blinked. "You have... three, I think. Two older, one younger."
"Three. Exactly. Aiko, the eldest. Yuki, the second. And Sakura, the youngest." She paused. "Aiko has always wanted to be the heiress. She's the eldest. Our father's favorite. The one who truly enjoys business meetings and dinners with investors. I was sent here because I was the most dispensable. The one who could be sacrificed for a few years abroad without anyone noticing her absence."
"Miss, that's not—"
"It's true. Everyone knows it. My father sent me here to get me out of the way. My mother agreed. My psychologist charges two hundred seventy-five thousand dollars a year to say I'm a psychopath without empathy. Do you think they'll notice if I'm not the one who inherits?"
"But..."
"Aiko can have the company. In fact, she wants it. She's wanted it since we were children. I was just an obstacle. A spare. A Plan B." Her voice hardened. "I don't want to be that anymore. I don't want to spend my life competing for something I never really cared about. I want to write. I want to imagine. I want to be with someone who sees me as a person and not as an asset."
Kurumi was silent for a long moment.
"Your father won't approve," she said finally.
"I know."
"Your mother won't either."
"I know that too."
"The board of directors will probably have something to say."
"Let them say whatever they want."
"This isn't a company."
She took another step.
"That person is here. In this room. And I don't care what he looks like now. I don't care if he's a man or a woman or a slime or anything else. I don't care if I have to share him with those two. I don't care if my father disowns me. I don't care."
"But the succession—"
Kurumi blinked. "Miss, you can't be serious—"
"And one more thing." Mizuki's voice was now a dangerous whisper. "If you try to come between César and me, if you try to inform my parents, if you try to sabotage this in any way..." She took another step, stopping just inches from the maid. "I will destroy you. Not physically. I don't need to. I have resources. I have contacts. I have information about you that you'd prefer not to see the light of day. So don't test me."
The silence that followed was absolute.
Kurumi was pale. Her hands, normally steady, trembled slightly.
Then, to everyone's surprise, she smiled. A small smile, almost sad.
"You know," she said quietly, "when I was assigned this job, they told me you were cold. Calculating. Possibly a psychopath. They told me to be careful." She shook her head. "But what I just saw... isn't a psychopath. It's someone willing to fight for what she loves. Someone who has finally found something worth fighting for."
"Kurumi..."
"I can't help but feel moved." The maid placed a hand over her chest. "After all, I was young once too. I also... well, that doesn't matter now." She straightened her shoulders. "I'll see what I can do to manage the family. I don't promise miracles. But I'll try to buy you time."
Mizuki stared at her. Then, very slowly, she nodded.
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet. This is going to be complicated." Kurumi sighed. "Very, very complicated."
"Life is complicated," Rory said from the sofa. "You get used to it."
"You're one of the complications."
"Well, now that that's settled, can we talk about what really matters?"
"What really matters?" I asked, wary.
"The fact that the corporate princess fell in love with you because of Stockholm syndrome."
"RORY!"
"What? It's a legitimate observation. You saved her from a monster. Now she's in love. It's a classic case. I saw it in a documentary. Well, in a movie. Well, in three movies. And in an anime. And in—"
"It's not Stockholm syndrome," Mizuki said, her tone becoming academic by reflex.
"Stockholm syndrome occurs when a hostage develops positive feelings toward their captor as a survival mechanism.
"Not toward their rescuer. It's a survival mechanism, not a response to heroism. If you wanted to be technically correct, you'd be talking about white knight syndrome, or possibly a traumatic bond."
"I'm not a hostage. César isn't my captor. And my feelings for him existed before the attack. Long before."
"Oh, really? How long before?"
"I..." Mizuki blushed slightly. "I'm not sure of the exact moment. But they were already there."
"You see?" Rory said, triumphant.
"It's not Stockholm. It's something worse. It's true love."
"It's not Stockholm syndrome. It's love. There's a difference."
"The difference is the diagnosis."
"Rory," I said, "drop it."
"Fine, fine." She raised her hands in surrender. "But if you ever write your memoirs, I suggest the title: 'I Fell in Love with My Fantasy Tutor After an Alien Slime Killed Him and He Was Reborn as a Fox Girl'. It's catchy."
"Rory."
"What? It's got commercial appeal."
"They use it in anime, the longer the title the better!"
Mizuki looked at me with an expression that was equal parts exasperation and fascination. "Is it always like this?"
"Always," I confirmed. "Twenty-four hours a day. Seven days a week. No rest."
"Sounds exhausting."
"It is. But..." I looked at Rory, who was now arguing with Tamamo about whether Stockholm syndrome applied to goddesses or not. "I suppose I've gotten used to it."
"You haven't gotten used to it," Mizuki said quietly. "You love them. It shows."
"That too."
There was a brief silence. Then Mizuki cleared her throat.
"There's something else I wanted to say. Earlier, when Rory said you already had a preference for women... and that I'd have to share you... I thought about what that would mean. For me. For us. For everything I thought I knew about myself." She paused. "I realized I don't care. I realized I want to be with you no matter the conditions. And then I thought: what am I now? What does this mean for my... identity? And I came to a conclusion."
"Which is?"
"I'm a lesbian," she said, with the same naturalness with which she announced the topics of our writing sessions. "Or at least, I will be. Exclusively for you. Especially for you."
"And if any man tries to court me, I'll tell him I'm not interested. That my heart belongs to a strong, brave, powerful man with a strange hairstyle that holds up his own tits and sleep problems."
I blinked. "That's not exactly how it works—"
"It is if I say it is." She interrupted me with a wave of her hand. "Don't misunderstand me. I still like men. I fell in love with you when you were a man. I fell in love with the guardian. The ronin. But now you're a woman. And I still love you. So I'll be a lesbian. Just for you. It's my life debt. I'll pay it by loving you as a lesbian."
"That's..." I blinked.
"Maybe there's a better way to paraphrase it that isn't 'debt'... or using the word 'lesbian' so much."
"Oh, really? Like what?"
"I don't know, but—"
Rory jumped off the sofa and landed on the table with a little thump.
"Let me translate," she said, standing with an air of importance. "What the corporate princess is trying to say is that she loves César. She loves his 'inner manliness'. His warrior soul. His ronin heart. The fact that he's now trapped in layers of tit fat doesn't change anything. She loves him just the same. End of translation."
I glared at her.
"Rory."
"What? That's exactly what she said."
"That's not exactly what she said!"
"It's an accurate paraphrase."
"It's not accurate! It's horrible!"
"It's accurate and horrible. Both things can be true."
"Rory."
"Yes?"
"Come here for a second."
"Why?"
"So I can grab you and throw you against the wall."
"That's domestic violence."
"That's divine justice; God will forgive me, after sending you to him."
"You can't do this to me! I'm a goddess!"
The chase was brief but memorable. Rory jumped from the table to the couch, from the couch to the lamp, and from the lamp to the bookshelf. I followed her, stumbling over my new hips and cursing my new center of gravity. Finally, I caught her in midair—my slime reflexes were better than those of my old body—and gently tossed her toward the bedroom.
"IT WAS WORTH IT!" Her voice faded as she flew down the hallway.
A second later, there was a dull thud followed by an "Ouch!" and then an indignant "My halberd! You're going to pay for this, César!"
Mizuki watched the whole scene with wide eyes. Kurumi seemed to be reconsidering every decision that had led her to this moment.
"That's... normal?" Mizuki began.
"No, it's weird."
"Normally it happens on Wednesdays," Tamamo confirmed.
"Is she going to be okay?"
"Don't worry, she'll survive."
"She always does."
"Cockroaches are hard to kill."
"That was... very violent."
"It's Rory. She brings out the best and worst in me."
"But..." Mizuki blinked.
"What Rory said... was it true?"
"What part?"
"The... the fat part. The tits part. The part about you still being you inside."
"Yes," I admitted. "It's true. It's me. Trapped in layers of..." I gestured vaguely toward my chest. "You know."
Mizuki was silent for a long moment. Then, very slowly, a smile spread across her face.
"YOU THREW ME! LIKE A BALL! I'M A GODDESS!"
"THIS IS DOMESTIC ABUSE! I'M GOING TO REPORT YOU TO THE DIVINE COUNCIL! TAMAMO, TAKE NOTE!"
"You were being impertinent," Tamamo replied calmly, not moving from her spot.
"THAT'S NOT AN ARGUMENT! IMPERTINENCE IS MY RIGHT AS A GODDESS!"
We are just give up with her.
"So that's it," she said. "You're a guy trapped in a girl's body. With fox ears. And a tail. And two divine wives."
"It sounds really weird when you say it like that."
"It is really weird," Mizuki agreed. "But it's also very you." She took a step toward me. "I don't care. Whatever you are—man, woman, slime, fox, whatever—I'll love you in whatever way you need. I'll be a lesbian for you, even though I like men. I'll be whatever you need me to be. Because you've already been what I needed you to be."
"........"
"And also," she added with a mischievous glint in her eyes, "I've noticed something."
"What?"
"Your ears," she said.
"What about my ears?"
"They're moving. A lot. And your tail..." She pointed behind me.
"It's wrapping around your waist again. Like when you're nervous. Like when you're nervous."
"Cursed treacherous ears," I muttered.
"Lesbian," she said, savoring the word.
"I called you a lesbian a moment ago. And you turned like this." She pointed at my face. "Like a tomato. With fox ears."
"Tomatoes don't have ears."
"This one does. It's a very special tomato."
"Besides, it's also completely made of water."
"You're as clumsy as you try to hide it, like when I said I'd be a lesbian just for you. An exclusive lesbian. A César-specific lesbian."
"Please stop saying that word."
"You're makin it sound weird"
"I am still a man....inside...."
"I want that to stay....."
"Ok, but still"
"It's your weakness," Mizuki said, and there was a gleam of triumph in her eyes.
"I've found your weakness. After months of knowing you, I finally know how to make you blush."
"So," she said, leaning slightly toward me,
"The new César, the man, likes being called a lesbian. Or being told someone would be exclusively for her. Interesting. Very interesting."
"Mizuki..."
"Good to know. For future reference."
"Don't worry, I get it, you don't want to see our relationship in that way, you want something normal"
"And that is what this is, Cesar, a man in love with Mizuki, the girl"
"Let's just save the 'lesbian' part for a private game, our exclusive lovers game"
"I am only lesbian for Cesar's use only"
Rory, who had returned from the bedroom with her hair completely disheveled and a pillow feather stuck to her back, stopped next to Tamamo.
"See?" she said, shaking off the feather. "I told you she liked you."
"Rory, you're disheveled."
"You threw me. The consequences are yours."
"But at least now I have valuable information about your new weakness!"
"I don't have weaknesses!"
"You have like forty. This is just the latest."
"RORY!"
"Yes, but now I have a specific word. And I'm going to use it. A lot. Whenever I can."
"I'm going to use it whenever I can too!"
"Mizuki!...Rory!"
"Lesbian," she said, with a smile of absolute satisfaction.
"You're a lesbian. And I'm your lesbian. And we're going to be lesbians together. Writing novels. Drinking tea. Being happy."
"I hate all of you!"
"No, you don't!"