Shun steps outside, expecting only silence. The kind of silence that usually settles over the street after midnight — thin, brittle, familiar. But tonight something interrupts it. A thread of sound. A soft humming, drifting like warm breath across cold air.
Across the street, a girl leans on her balcony rail, half‑hidden in shadow. Her ears twitch to the rhythm of her tune, rising and falling with each note as if they’re part of the melody itself. The faint glow from a window behind her outlines the curve of her silhouette, catching the delicate whisker‑like strands that frame her cheeks. They shimmer when she moves, catching stray moonlight like silver threads.
Her tail sways lazily, brushing the wooden railing in slow arcs. Not random — rhythmic. Almost like punctuation to her humming. Shun freezes mid‑step, breath caught. He wasn’t prepared for this: a stranger who feels like a scene from a dream he forgot he had.
The tune is soft, almost playful, yet tinged with loneliness. A kind of loneliness that doesn’t push people away, but calls them closer. He listens, unsure if he’s intruding or being invited.
Then she flicks her ears — sharply, instinctively — as if sensing him. She tilts her head, eyes narrowing just slightly, adjusting to the dark. For a moment their gazes lock. Her pupils widen, reflecting the lantern glow from a distant porch. She smiles faintly, a small upward curve that feels more like a secret than a greeting.
Then she looks away, humming again — louder this time, as if acknowledging him without words. Her tail curls at the tip, a soft question mark.
Shun stands there longer than he means to. The night feels stitched together by her presence, no longer empty but alive with feline warmth. The shadows seem less cold. The air less still. Even the silence between her notes feels intentional, like she’s weaving something delicate into the darkness.
When she finally retreats inside, the tune fading with her steps, Shun realizes he’s still standing on the threshold, hand on the doorframe, heart beating faster than the quiet night should allow.
Something has shifted.
ns216.73.216.10da2
and then Add to home screen.