When Abel was out.

Shea lay in bed for a while but couldn’t sleep. She struggled upright and climbed down, her whole body aching as if she’d been thoroughly beaten.

“If I ever use Spirit Form this many times again, I’m a dog… wait, no—there probably won’t *be* a next time.”

She sighed inwardly. *Rescuing that lovesick Nina really wasn’t worth wrecking my body.*

Of course, if it happened again, Shea would still save that silly girl.

After all, they were best friends who told each other everything~

*Guess I’ll just raid her pantry extra often to make up for it. Otherwise, my heart’ll ache.*

“Hss—*ow*!”

Lost in thought, Shea tried pulling on thigh-high white stockings. The fabric brushed her knee wound, making her suck in a sharp breath.

Resigned, she left wearing one white thigh-high and one black ankle sock—looking like she couldn’t afford matching pairs.

After limping downstairs and finishing simple chores, Abel burst through the door, frantic.

“That fast?” Shea frowned at his disheveled, battle-worn appearance. “What happened…?”

“I borrowed a cooler from a good buddy,” Abel stressed the word *borrowed*. “It’ll keep the ice cream at perfect texture.”

*Something feels off… whatever. Thanks for the hard work, Hunter.*

Shea took the ice cream, flopped onto the sofa, and savored it slowly, her slender bare feet swinging idly in the air.

The stark contrast of black and white socks held an unexpected charm—Abel nearly stared, until Shea’s dark hair snapped him back to reality.

*If only she were a white cat too…*

Abel finally understood: that damn Rico was utterly shameless. His own catgirl was far more genuine—sure, she was a bit greedy and had dark hair, but those were minor flaws.

And since that white cat had challenged him? He’d damn well protect this black cat.

“Thanks for the treat.”

Full and content, Shea moved to toss the cup—but Abel volunteered.

“I’ll throw it away.”

“Oh… okay.” Though puzzled by his sudden attentiveness, Shea couldn’t refuse help with her injuries.

What followed left her utterly stunned.

All day:

When Shea cooked—

Abel: “Let me help!”

When Shea hung laundry—

A certain ill-timed man: “Let me help!”

When Shea entered the bathroom—

A hunter-clad creep: “Let me help!”

“HELP YOURSELF TO A HEAD INJURY!”

With an indignant shriek, Shea shoved him out.

Sitting on the toilet, face crimson, she seethed. *That thick-skinned pervert followed me in here—and offered to wipe the toilet seat!* She nearly rammed the lid over his head.

*What the hell is wrong with him today?*

She sighed. *No good deed goes unpunished… or is he plotting something?*

*He wouldn’t actually make a move on me, right? Impossible. He’s a hopeless white-hair fetishist—I’m black-haired. He can’t be* that *desperate.*

*Probably just fussing over an injured friend.*

She believed that… until bedtime.

The perverted hunter climbed into her wardrobe right before her eyes.

“I’ll stand guard here tonight. Goodnight.”

Abel hid behind her clothes—a flawless disguise.

*Huh. Why no bras in here? Does she just use bandages?*

“Mhm. Goodnight, *Pervert*.”

Shea deadpanned, locked the wardrobe, grabbed her pillow, and fled to Abel’s bed.

Abel only discovered he was trapped the next morning. Too scared to break the wardrobe, he yelled until hoarse.

Shea enjoyed a rare peaceful morning.

*If you ignored the racket upstairs.*

——

A day later, Shea’s body had mostly healed. In her past life, such injuries would’ve left her limping for days.

People here were just built tougher.

Even mid-tier catgirls like her had this resilience—let alone top-tier races.

*Abel’s probably monstrously durable,* she mused. *That near-fatal wound I saw when we first met? I’d need a week to recover. He was fine overnight.*

“I’m off to school. Lunch is in the fridge—skip it if you want, save it for dinner.”

“Safe trip.”

After yesterday’s lesson, Abel didn’t dare tail her openly. He watched from a distance, unwilling to risk another wardrobe imprisonment.

*Honestly, I meant well!*

Once Shea was out of sight, Abel activated Disappear and followed like a stalker.

Shea finally slipped into school, shaking off that creepy gaze.

“Tch. Did Abel really get his head stuck in a door?”

She shook off the thought and entered her classroom.

“SHEA!!”

A lovesick voice shrieked before her foot fully crossed the threshold.

Nina sprinted over, hugging her tightly, face radiant.

“How’s your body?”

“Much better.”

Shea stiffened under Nina’s fragrant warmth, especially under the class’s stares.

*This feels like a yuri scene blooming in real-time.*

“Seriously, I was so worried when I heard you were hurt!” Nina dragged her to their seats, then beamed. “Guess who saved me from those cultists?”

Her expression screamed *You’ll never believe it!*

Humoring her, Shea deadpanned:

“Your revered and worshipped Lord Silver?”

“NONONO~ It was *Rico*!”