Chapter 5: Chapter 5: Cracks in the Mask

<||•STRAY SHADOWS•||> (modern Au)Words: 4970

The days stretched into weeks, and the strange routine of Lumine's life began to feel almost... natural to Scaramouche. Every morning, he watched her rush out the door with a slice of toast in her hand, her golden hair bouncing as she waved him goodbye. In the afternoons, she'd return with her usual cheerful stories about school—her teachers, the antics of her friends, or the little frustrations she buried behind her bright smile.

And every night, when the apartment fell silent, Scaramouche allowed himself to drop the facade, shifting back into his human form to quietly reflect on how much things had changed.

But tonight... something was different.

---

Lumine came home later than usual. The sky had long since darkened, rain pattering softly against the windowpanes. Scaramouche—still in his cat form—sat by the window, watching for her anxiously, though he would never admit it. The sight of her soaking wet, carrying her bag close to her chest, made his tail flick in irritation.

She stumbled in, shivering slightly as she kicked off her shoes. "Kuni! I'm back..." Her voice was soft, almost breathless.

Scaramouche leapt off the windowsill and padded toward her, his midnight fur bristling slightly as he meowed with disapproval.

"I know, I know," Lumine said, rubbing at her eyes and kneeling down to scratch his ears. "I forgot my umbrella again. Classic me, right?"

Her laugh was small and tired. Scaramouche’s sharp violet eyes narrowed as he took in the details she tried to hide—her slightly red-rimmed eyes, her damp clothes sticking to her frame, and the faint tremor in her fingers as she unzipped her bag.

She didn’t say anything else. Instead, she headed straight to the bathroom to dry off, leaving Scaramouche with an unshakable sense of unease.

---

By the time Lumine had changed into dry clothes and curled up on the couch, she looked better—but the spark in her golden eyes still seemed dimmer than usual. She stared blankly at the television, absently stroking Scaramouche’s fur as he curled in her lap.

"Today was kind of tough," she admitted suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I got into a fight with one of my friends. They said I was always too nice, like it’s some kind of weakness.” She chuckled bitterly, her fingers trembling against his fur. “Guess that’s why I’m always so quick to pick up strays, huh? Cats… people…”

Scaramouche stiffened, violet eyes widening slightly as her words hit him harder than he expected.

“I just…” She paused, her gaze distant. “I don’t know. I like helping others. I don’t think it’s a bad thing… but sometimes it feels like no one really gets it.”

She fell silent again, her words lingering in the air.

Scaramouche shifted on her lap, a strange feeling twisting in his chest. He wanted to say something—anything—but in this form, all he could do was nudge her hand with his head. Lumine gave him a small, grateful smile.

"You're such a good listener, Kuni," she murmured softly. "It's like you understand me."

I do understand you, Scaramouche thought bitterly, his eyes narrowing.

As Lumine eventually drifted off to sleep, Scaramouche sat quietly, his tail curling around himself. He waited until her breathing evened out before carefully slipping off her lap. Magic rippled through him as he shifted back into his human form, his indigo hair catching the faint glow of the television.

He stared down at Lumine for a long moment, his sharp features softening just slightly.

“You’re too good for this world,” he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible. “That’s your problem.”

She stirred slightly in her sleep, her brow furrowing, and Scaramouche froze. He turned sharply away, running a hand through his hair as frustration boiled within him. Why did he care? Why did her words bother him so much?

She doesn’t even know who I really am, he reminded himself. If she did, she’d throw me out.

Yet despite those thoughts, he found himself reaching for a blanket. Gently—so gently that it surprised even him—he draped it over her sleeping form before retreating to the window.

He stood there for the rest of the night, staring out into the rain-soaked city.

---

The next morning, Lumine woke up to find herself tucked in with a blanket she didn’t remember grabbing. She blinked, puzzled, before glancing toward the small figure curled up near the windowsill.

“Kuni…?” she mumbled softly.

The midnight-furred cat cracked open one violet eye before meowing in a way that almost sounded annoyed.

Lumine laughed quietly. “I guess you really do look after me, huh?”

Scaramouche turned his head away, his tail flicking irritably as if to say, Don’t be ridiculous.

But deep down, he knew he couldn’t ignore the cracks forming in the mask he wore—both as a cat and as himself.

Because whether he liked it or not, Lumine’s kindness was starting to reach places he thought he’d buried long ago.