Chapter 3: Chapter 3: A Strange New Day

Morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the small apartment. Dust motes floated lazily in the golden beams, and the muffled sounds of traffic and birds outside signaled the start of a new day.

Lumine stirred beneath her blanket, her golden hair spilling across the pillow. She blinked blearily as she adjusted to the light, then sat up with a soft yawn. The familiar weight at the foot of the bed made her pause, and her gaze dropped to the midnight-furred cat curled up peacefully in the blankets.

A fond smile tugged at her lips. He’s still here.

“Good morning, little guy,” Lumine said softly as she reached out to gently stroke the small cat’s head. The fur was silky now, no longer damp and matted like last night when she’d found him shivering in the rain. Scaramouche—still trapped in his cat form—tensed slightly but allowed her touch, careful not to betray himself.

Lumine’s fingers scratched lightly behind his ears, earning a quiet, involuntary purr from him that he immediately regretted. Curse this wretched form.

Lumine giggled. “You like that, huh? I knew you were soft inside.” She picked him up carefully, cradling him against her chest as his violet eyes stared into hers. He froze in place, unsure what to do under her kind gaze. “I can’t keep calling you little guy, though,” she mused aloud, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

“Hmm… Kuni.”

Scaramouche blinked. Kuni?

“It’s simple, cute, and… it suits you,” Lumine decided with a smile. “You’re Kuni from now on.”

His tail flicked with irritation, but he said nothing. Kuni? That’s what she comes up with for someone like me? It stung his pride more than he cared to admit, but as long as she remained unaware of his true identity, he supposed he could endure it.

Lumine placed him gently back on the bed and swung her legs over the edge, stretching with another yawn. She glanced at the clock on her nightstand and groaned. “Great. I’m running late again.”

As Scaramouche watched from the bed, she moved quickly around the room, gathering clothes and books. Her school uniform—a pressed navy blazer and a pleated skirt—hung on the back of the chair. She grabbed it and disappeared into the bathroom, leaving him to his thoughts.

She’s a student? Scaramouche realized, his violet eyes narrowing as he processed this new detail. That explained the stack of textbooks by her desk and the well-used bag slung over the chair.

Minutes later, Lumine reappeared, now dressed in her uniform. She pulled her golden hair into a loose ponytail, shouldering her school bag before turning back to him. “I’ll be back this afternoon, Kuni. Be good while I’m gone, okay?”

She crouched down to his level, smiling softly as she ran a hand along his back. Scaramouche fought the urge to stiffen under her touch.

“I’ll pick up some proper food for you on the way home,” she promised. “Maybe even a treat if you’re lucky.”

With one last scratch behind his ears, she stood up and grabbed her shoes. “Don’t wreck the place!” she called playfully before slipping out the door.

The apartment fell silent. Scaramouche stared at the door for a long moment before letting out a low growl.

Finally, he let the magic falter. A ripple passed over his small frame, and within seconds, he was human again. Scaramouche stood up and rolled his shoulders, a scowl settling on his sharp features as indigo strands of hair fell over his face.

“‘Kuni,’ huh?” he muttered bitterly, shaking his head. “Ridiculous.”

Still, his eyes drifted toward the apartment door. Lumine had been so… gentle. He didn’t know what to make of it. Why would she bother with a stray? Didn’t she have more important things to worry about, being a student and all?

His gaze shifted to the half-finished assignments scattered on her desk. Out of sheer curiosity—or boredom—he wandered over and skimmed the papers. Math problems, history notes, and a half-written literature essay greeted him.

“Idiotic human tasks,” he muttered, though his lips twitched faintly as he read her scrawled handwriting.

After a moment, Scaramouche wandered to the window and peered outside. The street below bustled with students in matching uniforms walking toward what he assumed was the nearby school. Lumine must have been one of them.

His eyes lingered on the spot where he’d met her last night—standing there in the rain, holding an umbrella she hadn’t even used to shield herself. His chest tightened slightly at the thought.

Why did she save me?

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Hours passed, and Scaramouche alternated between exploring the apartment and sitting quietly in his cat form to conserve energy. He briefly considered leaving, but the memory of Lumine’s voice as she spoke to him—so soft, so genuine—lingered in his mind. Against his better judgment, he stayed.

By the time the front door creaked open again, the afternoon sun was already beginning to dip lower in the sky. Lumine stepped inside, her face flushed as she kicked off her shoes. “Ugh, what a day,” she sighed, dropping her bag onto the floor. “I swear, teachers get a kick out of torturing us with quizzes.”

Scaramouche—back in his cat form—sat perched on the arm of the couch, watching her with narrowed eyes.

Lumine spotted him immediately and smiled, her earlier exhaustion softening. “Kuni! You’ve been good, right?” She walked over and gently scratched his head. “I picked up some real cat food for you this time. I bet you’re starving.”

He stared at her wordlessly, ignoring the slight warmth her presence brought to the room. Lumine turned away and busied herself in the kitchen, humming softly as she prepared food for both of them.

For a while, Scaramouche just sat there, listening to the sound of her movements. It was strange, this quiet routine she seemed to live. No one else came or went; it was just her, alone in the small apartment with the stray she’d so carelessly invited into her life.

When Lumine finally returned to the couch, she flopped down with a satisfied sigh, placing a bowl of food near him. “There you go, Kuni. Eat up.”

Scaramouche sniffed at the food reluctantly before taking a few small bites. Lumine smiled warmly as she watched, leaning back against the couch cushions.

“You know,” she said quietly, “you’re really lucky. You get to sit here, nap, and eat all day while I have to deal with classes and exams.”

She laughed softly to herself, though there was a hint of sadness behind it.

Scaramouche’s ears flicked as he looked up at her. For reasons he couldn’t understand, he stayed there, quietly listening as Lumine spoke.

And for the first time in years, he didn’t feel so alone.