She looked quiet and proper, with so-so grades and an optimistic yet clumsy personality. When I thought of her, a book always came to mind first. She wasn’t especially good or bad at anything. Sometimes she teased others, but mostly got teased herself. As the drama club’s literary girl and class monitor, she seemed almost too ordinary—ignoring her shoujo magazine author identity...

No, maybe that’s exactly why she bridged teachers and students well. A girl who could play Juliet on stage surely had decent popularity. I sipped my cappuccino, staring at Nan Dongye across from me, searching for something extraordinary.

Pretty? Naturally. Nan Dongye had all the youthful innocence and sweetness of her age. Her style was conventional—the "perfect neighbor’s kid" type parents praised. So her cuteness felt too plain, not sharp or eye-catching at all.

"Yeah, like Baoyu said: an ordinary, harmless beauty who sparks zero interest." (Probably for hardcore masochists.)

"Get that, Fat Tiger?"

"Meow?"

The British Shorthair cat sat blankly by its cup, big round head expressionless yet oddly adorable. That’s why I’d nicknamed it Fat Tiger.

"Of course you don’t understand."

I sighed, glancing at Yuzuru Sensei opposite me—completely oblivious to her deadline. Compared to my quiet bond with this cute cat, her behavior made sense. Like every girl here, she was blissfully lost cuddling a kitty, gripping its pink paws like she might dance any second. For cat-allergic folks like Jiang Xiaoyu, this was hell; for others, heaven.

A bit into BL, magazine-obsessed, fashion-chasing, clumsy and utterly illogical—that’s how I saw girls my age. Yuzuru Sensei fit perfectly.

"Still too normal..." I sighed. Even Yuzuru Sensei from Princess Monologue was just a regular high school girl. Among us freaks, she stood out awkwardly.

Why did I feel regret? Weird. Any guy alone with a pretty girl would be thrilled...

Wait—was this the normal high school social life I’d always craved?

Happiness hit so suddenly I struggled to accept it. I had very few friends—truly few, not the "small harem" kind. Before high school, no one dared approach me. Now? The landlady forcing staff into women’s clothes to attract customers. The high school boy host Xu Xian. The unhinged Student Council President. Psychologically twisted classmates. Normal friend hangouts? Basically zero.

The answer was clear: the two people I couldn’t forget were both abnormal. Liking freaks makes you one too. After being a freak so long, I’d grown unused to this gentle harmony. I grumbled inwardly, my gaze dimming.

"You’re muttering to yourself again!"

"...Sorry."

"Hmm?"

"Sorry."

I lowered my head slightly, making a shameless apology like I’d just been confessed to.

Nan Dongye’s smile vanished. She hugged the cat gently, curling up on the sofa chair defensively—as if hurt. I regretted it instantly.

"Why apologize? Did you do something wrong...?"

This time, this sometimes-sharp-sometimes-slow girl sensed it. I wished she’d tilt her head in confusion so I could pretend ignorance and sleep through school tomorrow.

If I could, I’d stay with her for "research" forever. But not now...

I was still stuck at the crossroads.

Restless, the thickening silence made time and air viscous. In the busy café, it felt muted—I could hear a pin drop. My eyes wandered, avoiding hers.

"Meow!"

The flat-faced cat—unresponsive even to "Fat Tiger"—yowled suddenly, leaping off the table. It arched its back, tiptoed to slender feet, and rubbed its head against a calf.

"What’s wrong, Chubby? No mischief."

The young waitress in a brown apron, twin braids tied neatly, crouched to pet the cat. She looked up apologetically. "Sorry, did I interrupt?"

So it’s Chubby? Only one character off from Fat Tiger...

Nan Dongye shook her head with a strained smile.

I stared at the waitress’s delicate face, stunned. Not just because clever Chubby broke the tension—but her features felt familiar. "Xuan?"

The pretty waitress frowned in confusion. "Do I know you? Um... who are you?"

Dumb creatures really exist. In Mu Zhixuan’s memory, Jiang Wuque—the fictional sister of Jiang Xiaoyu—had never existed. I coughed. "I’m Xiaoyu’s brother."

"Oh! That’s why you looked familiar. Sorry, I’m forgetful." Mu Zhixuan blushed, bowing clumsily.

Was this airheadedness okay? Introducing myself to someone with a seven-second memory felt stupid. At least I wasn’t "sister" anymore.

"No problem. Do you work here?"

"No, my family owns this cat café."

Ah. When I’d walked all over Crescent City with Xiaoyu, her cat allergy kept me away. I nodded casually. "Aren’t you on the autumn outing?"

"Autumn... outing? What’s that?"

Mu Zhixuan’s flustered look deepened, as if insulted. *Are you in elementary school?* Even Nan Dongye glanced at me oddly, embarrassed to be seen with me.

Why was a dumb girl treating me like a kid...

Their stares flushed my face. Even knowing Jiang Xiaoyu’s lie was clumsy, I’d wanted to check. "N-nothing. Just pretend I was sleep-talking."