Chapter 6: Chapter 6: The Secret That Slipped

<||•STRAY SHADOWS•||> (modern Au)Words: 5553

Days turned into weeks, and Scaramouche began to begrudgingly settle into the routine of Lumine’s home. She was always so busy—school, part-time jobs, studying—and yet she still made time to look after him. He told himself it was just a temporary arrangement, that he’d leave as soon as he figured out how to untangle the mess of magic that had trapped him in this absurd cat form.

But deep down, he knew something was different.

Lumine.

The girl who brought him home without hesitation, even on that cold, rainy night.

Tonight, Lumine was studying at the small table in the corner of the living room. Her brow furrowed as she flipped through her notes, her pencil tapping rhythmically against her notebook. Scaramouche, curled up on the couch, pretended to be asleep, but he kept his sharp violet gaze fixed on her.

“You’re mumbling to yourself again,” he thought to himself, his ears twitching slightly as he listened to her whisper formulas under her breath.

At last, Lumine groaned in frustration, dropping her pencil and burying her face in her arms. “Why does this test feel impossible?!” she whined.

Scaramouche’s tail flicked in irritation. He wanted to say something snarky like, Maybe if you didn’t waste your time on stray cats, you’d have finished your notes already, but all he could do was let out an annoyed meow.

Lumine glanced up, her eyes landing on him. “Oh, Kuni… I wish you could help me,” she muttered wistfully. “Sometimes I feel like you’re smarter than you let on.”

You have no idea, Scaramouche thought, glaring at her lazily.

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Later that night, Lumine finally gave up on studying, shutting her books with an exhausted sigh. She wandered over to the couch, picking up Kuni—the midnight-furred cat—and gently cradling him in her arms. Scaramouche tensed at first, his fur bristling slightly, but he didn’t pull away.

“Thanks for keeping me company,” she murmured softly. “I think I’d go crazy without you here.”

The way she said it—so sincere, so trusting—made something twist in Scaramouche’s chest. He stared up at her golden eyes, the kind ones that seemed to see so much and yet nothing at all.

Why do you care about me so much?

He didn’t realize how long he was staring until Lumine laughed quietly, pressing her forehead gently to his. “You’re so serious sometimes, you know that?”

Scaramouche stiffened, suddenly aware of how close she was. He immediately wriggled out of her arms, hopping onto the floor with a frustrated flick of his tail. Lumine blinked in surprise.

“Okay, okay, I get it—you’re not in the mood for cuddles.” She stretched her arms above her head with a yawn. “Guess I’ll call it a night.”

As she wandered off to her room, Scaramouche sat frozen in place. He felt like he was losing his mind. Every moment with her was a reminder of how much of a mess his life had become. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to care about some overly kind, overly trusting girl.

Once the apartment fell silent and the lights were out, Scaramouche shifted back into his human form. He rubbed his temples, muttering curses under his breath.

“I’m losing it…”

He walked over to the table where Lumine’s schoolbooks sat, flipping through the pages she had been studying earlier. She was hopeless at math, apparently. Scaramouche smirked to himself. “Figures.”

Out of boredom—or perhaps something else—he picked up her pencil and started working through the problems she’d struggled with earlier. The numbers came to him easily, his handwriting sharp and precise.

“There. Done. Idiot girl,” he muttered as he tossed the pencil back onto the notebook. He froze as soon as the words left his mouth, realizing what he’d done.

Why did I just help her?!

Scaramouche ran a hand through his indigo hair, pacing back and forth. He’d already broken his own rules—sticking around, watching over her. He wasn’t supposed to get involved.

Suddenly, the soft sound of a door creaking open made him freeze.

“Kuni?”

Scaramouche turned sharply to see Lumine standing in the doorway, rubbing her eyes sleepily. Her gaze fell on him—on the tall figure with indigo hair, dressed in loose, dark clothes that clearly didn’t belong to her.

Scaramouche’s blood ran cold.

Her sleepy expression shifted into one of confusion, her golden eyes narrowing slightly as she took a cautious step closer. “Wait… who—”

In an instant, Scaramouche’s magic flared, and before Lumine could blink, the indigo-haired boy disappeared, leaving behind nothing but a familiar midnight-furred cat sitting on the table.

Lumine stared blankly, her mind still groggy. “Huh…?”

She blinked a few times, rubbing her eyes again. “I could’ve sworn…”

She trailed off, shaking her head. “Maybe I’m just tired,” she muttered to herself, turning back to her room.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Scaramouche let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He sat on the table, his fur bristling as his heart pounded in his chest.

“That was too close,” he muttered under his breath.

He glanced down at the notebook he’d left behind, his precise handwriting standing out against Lumine’s messy scrawl. If she noticed it tomorrow… well, he’d figure that out later.

For now, he was just grateful that his secret had stayed hidden—at least for a little while longer.

But as he stared at Lumine’s closed door, he couldn’t shake the feeling that it wouldn’t stay hidden forever.