Noah stretched, taking as much space as possible on the bed. He had reached an enlightened state of being sick where the fact that he was sick failed to register in his mind. On a nightstand next to him, steam emanating from a cup of coffee Koko had whipped up for him coiled in the still air next to a few assorted bottles of pills which seemed to glow up as light rushed past the colored plastic.

“How are you feeling?”

“Tired.” Noah squeezed out, placing the phone on his chest.

He could almost sense the grin through the screen. “Don’t worry, you will be given time to rest. This was the last little thing you did for me. I am retiring, you know.”

Retiring? He never assumed Hiro to be the type of man who would even want to retire. “Oh, I am sorry.” Noah winced slightly at his previous comment. Why was he feeling sorry? Being able to retire in Namiport was like winning a lottery. Has he actually grown to like his boss? No, not that. Respect? That seemed more like it.

Hiro chuckled, sensing his employee’s uneasiness. "No need to apologize. Besides, you'll do just fine without me.”

“You think so?” The compliment was a jolt of energy, making the man sit up.

“Yup. I am officially terminating my employment at the end of the week.” There was a sound of movement on the other end. “I will send somebody to watch over you in the meantime. The handler who handles the handler. Wouldn't want you to start slacking off. But don’t worry, she is more than certified.”

In her room, Tanji rubbed her hands together while looking at Mirei. The horse girl just blinked a few times, trying to guess why she was invited here while dropping the clothes she had brought with her on the floor.

“Noah is sick. This means that we can finally go out to the city alone!”

Mirei tilted her head. “Is that really the case?”

“Think about it.” Tanji reasoned, walking back and forth. “Can we go to the city alone?”

“No. We need to go with mister.”

“And can Noah go with us?”

“No. He is sick.”

“Exactly!” A suppressed snicker escaped her lips. “So that means that since Noah cannot come with us, we can go out alone!”

“I guess that makes sense.” No. It really didn’t.

Tanji grumbled, digging through a pile of clothes she had ordered Mirei to bring with her. “We’re going to buy some chicken soup for Noah to make sure he doesn’t die. Then, he will be forever grateful.” Even when pretending that she was doing it for her master’s sake, the Neko had to sneak in a personal reason.

“Die?” Mirei began fidgeting with her hair, putting a standard in her mouth. “Can mister really die?”

“Oh yes.” Suddenly, her face got eerily serious. “Humans are really weak against diseases. That cold he got from you could kill him if he doesn’t have his soup.” Standing up, she threw an assortment of clothing at the horse girl, watching her getting covered in fabric. “Put these on. And don’t forget a beanie! We need to cover those ears of yours.”

“Can’t I just wear a top hat? I hate having my ears pressed down.” The woman tapped her fingers against her palm.

“No. That would look ridiculous.” She said as if Mirei already didn’t look silly in that undersized sweater. “Come on. We need to make you look like a human. Tuck that tail in your pants like Noah always does.”

“Human? Nice! I always wanted to be a human!” Clasping her hands together, she ignored the discomfort of sliding on the beanie. “I need a new name…hmm…”

“No. You really don’t.” Tanji had an exhausted look on her face, not really wanting to deal with Mirei and only taking her along since a lone ‘mimi was sure to be scooped up by corporate security—or worse. “You’re Mirei. I am your Nekomimi. You’re a human. I Am a Cat.”

“I want to be…Olivia Lance!” Mirei extended both of her hands in the air.

“That’s ridiculous.” Pinching her nose, Tanji told herself to endure it. The freedom of being able to roam around Namiport was worth it.

“Humans have surnames. If I don’t have a surname, it will make me stand out.” It was a fair point, even if it should have been the least of their concerns.

“Then just take Noah’s surname!”

“No, I can’t do that. We aren’t married yet.” Tanji squinted at the “yet.” What was she on about? “Besides...what was his surname again?”

Both of them stopped and looked up at the ceiling. “I don’t know.” The Neko admitted. “You know what, let’s just go with Olivia Lance.” She exclaimed, brushing it off and already reaching for the door.

“Wait!” Mirei quickly lifted Tanji by her armpits, putting a pink collar around her neck. “There. Now, we are good to go.”

She began thrashing, trying to get the damned thing off her. “Take it off! Take it off! Take it off!”

“I don’t want other ‘mimi owners to think my Tanji is some street-girl.” Reaching down, Mirei petted the Neko just a little too harshly, messing up her hair.

“You don’t need to get so far into the character-”

“Shush now.” Booping her nose, Mirei pulled her hand away just in time to avoid it getting bitten off. Janking on the leash, the two of them were soon out of the house. It seemed too easy. Where was Koko breathing down their necks? Where were her stern warnings and color-coded pistols?

At the same time, the maid stood in front of Noah’s room, looking at the doors with a grimace. Standing on her tippy-toes, she placed her hand on the handle…only to let go once a cough came from the other side. Sure, she could have gone in, but then what? How could she have made him feel any better?

“Come on, Tanji, keep up.” Mirei kept yanking on the leash, pushing the neko along like a wooden cart.

“I am not moving slowly, you are moving quickly!” There was some truth in that. Umamimis were known to be quick, restless, and notoriously difficult to handle. In that regard, Mirei was the perfect specimen.

Namiport's center was as busy as ever. The sunlight slithered its way past the criss-crossing pedestrian bridges above them into the heart of the city. Shouts of the advertisements mixed with the crowd of the people which moved like a swarm, forcing the pair to squeeze through. At one point, Mirei even lifted “her pet” above the head to avoid the 2 ft tall woman from getting trampled. Despite this chaos, both of them began forming mental lists of the things they wanted to get.

They stopped in front of the fountain flanked on either side by two abstract sculptures made from brass. No matter how hard either of them tried, they couldn’t decode them. Maybe they had no meaning, and the sculptures spontaneously appeared here.

“I was wondering…how are we going to buy anything? We don’t have money.”

“Two steps ahead of you.” Tanji reached into her bra, taking out a crinkled 50-dollar bill. “I was smart enough to save up my pants budget for a special occasion.” The rest must have gotten towards snacks.

“But that’s only 50! I want to buy more things.” She clumsily explained, slouching on a bench.

Leaping onto Mirei’s shoulder, the horse girl pulled away in response, making Tanji fall onto her lap. Lifting herself up, she could only think about how Noah was way better at this. “I have a plan. We are going to go into one of those pachinko places and get free money!”

“They really give you free money there?”

“Of course!” Tanji tapped her head with a signature look of superiority. “When Noah was still a poor bastard, he used to enter one of those with a few dollars, play for a few minutes, and then get through money for dinner. If he can do it, it must be incredibly easy.”

The duo entered a nearby pachinko parlor, the cacophony of clattering metal balls and electronic sounds enveloping them. The vibrant lights and the hypnotic atmosphere overwhelmed Mirei, who looked around wide-eyed as if flashbanged. “What’s pachinko anyways?!” The horse girl shouted, only stopping when Tanji nudged her to be quiet.

Tanji grinned, feeling like a mentor guiding her clueless apprentice. "You shoot small metal balls into a machine, and they bounce around. The more balls you win, the more you can exchange for money.”

Mirei scratched her head, still trying to process the concept. "So, it's like a game, and if we win, we get more money?"

"Exactly!" Tanji approached an exchange machine only to be stopped by one of the attendants.

“Sorry, ma’am, but your Kemonomimi is not allowed to perform the transaction.” She explained, looking over at Mirei. “Please insert the bill yourself if you wish to play…and please make sure that your ‘mimi is wearing pants the next time you enter the establishment.”

“Bastard…”

“Of course. I will insert the bill. As a human. I will do it. Right now.” Struggling to put the note into the machine a few times, the attendant eventually took pity on her, guiding her hand as metal balls began falling from the other end into a plastic tray.

“Now, watch and learn.” Tanji started launching the small metallic orbs into the electrical maze. There was a certain level of finesse that the game demanded. Of course, she didn’t know that. All that she saw was Noah randomly throwing the balls at the machine. And so, she mimicked him.

“Let me try.” Mirei, eager to participate, grabbed a handful of metal balls and started launching them with wild abandon. They ricocheted off the machine's compartments, creating a chaotic melody.

“There you go! Come on, the more you put in, the more you win!”

“Well. We lost it all.” Tanji exclaimed, putting the lollipop they had spent the remaining balls on in her mouth. It tasted of chemicals and something sweet. “Not sure how Noah did it. Probably cheated or something.” Mirei just stared at the empty tray that once held the promise of money, twisting her lips.

“Excuse me, Ms.” A woman loomed above them, wearing a black leather jacket embroidered with flags of many different countries. An expensive-looking camera dangled around her neck. “I am actually a friend of the manager of that parlor, and I saw you inside. You are the owner of this Nekomimi, correct?”

“That’s right.” Mirei stood up quickly, accidentally yanking on the leash. “My name is Olivia Lance. I just finished a career in a small musical in Oklahoma. It wasn’t much, but it’s a start.” Clenching her fist, Tanji begged the human pretender to just stop talking. Being nondescript was suspicious, but so was all…this! “This is my Nekomimi, Tanji. We met when I was backpacking through Hokkaido.”

“Fascinating.” She pretended to care, taking out a small paper card. “I am a member of a private club working in kemonomimis-adjacent fields. Charlotte Redd. A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Lance” Extending her hand, Mirei shook it only after tightening the beanie around her ears. “Let me cut straight to the chase. I want to take a few pictures of you ‘mimi.”

“Really? You want to take pictures of her?” At first apprehensive about the idea, Tanji now seemed insulted that Mirei would doubt her photogenic profile.

“That’s right. I feel like this is simply going to be the next big thing.” Dramatically lifting her hands, she stopped for effect. “Plus-sized Nekos! And even if it isn’t, it is our duty to wrangle the society onto the righteous path!” Wrapping an arm around Mirei’s neck, the woman suddenly descended into a passionate rant. “Like when they replaced those tan addicts with regal pale skin! People influence society which influences people! Death to Ganguro skinny bitches!” She cleaned her throat, finding herself riled up while Mirei subtly tried to back away. “Besides, this is also an excellent opportunity to mingle with members of the private club.” There was a brief pause. “...and I'll pay you.”

Mirei put on a stern face, crossing her arms.

“...with money.” Charlotte added.

As if it were hit with a hammer, her poker face shattered. “Alright, we are in.”

“Perfect! I am sure you would love to meet with the rest before we get down to business. Pleasantries before work, yeah?” The photographer said while fidgeting with the lens of her camera. “Why don’t we go there right now?”

A narrow stairwell, dimly lit by flickering neon signs, led them below. Namiport was a big place, and even the people who built it couldn't be expected to keep track of every layer. The underground market was one such layer, sprawled beneath the city like a forbidden garden of stone and metal.

There was something wrong in the air. Both of the ‘mimis could feel it while their guide had learned to ignore it long ago as they ventured deeper into the maw. “Is this the…club?” Mirei spoke up, once again tucking on her beanie.

“That’s what we call it. You know how these corpos are. They always want to shove their noses into everything.” Charlotte let out a gentle chuckle, grabbing onto the railing to steady her descent. “It’s our little haven.”

For the members of this little club, it might have been a haven. For Tanji and Mirei, it was hell. Stalls and makeshift shops littered the halls, each manned by a vendor. A few of them had masks resembling those one might expect to see in a Greek theater, but most weren’t ashamed to show their faces or simply skipped the masks for convenience. But people didn’t look at the vendors—oh no. They were more interested in the merchandise.

Kemonomimi. Ornate cages enclosed around them like steel tulips. There were dozens of them down here—tightly packed to maximize storage. Some were free to roam with a collar around their necks, walking on the tables and presenting their bodies. All the buyers were trusted, being allowed to be a little rough with the templates. Those without any bindings had faint red marks around their wrists and necks. Fortunately, the new medical gels matched the skin color, removing the blemish after purchase.

“That’s right. The biggest ‘mimi market free of any oversight.” Charlotte took a deep breath of her kingdom. “Oh, come on.” She rolled her eyes, grabbing onto Mirei’s arms and pushing her to look at it too. “Hanging around a pachinko parlor…with a ‘mimi like that…it’s obvious you have a special kind of taste.”

“Uh, Charlotte, I think we might have misunderstood something here.” Mirei stammered, trying to pull away from the photographer's grip. Her heart was racing, with the woman’s tail wagging uncomfortably against her pants. “This isn't the kind of place we were looking for…”

The woman chuckled, utterly oblivious. “This whole underground thing…It's all part of the experience!” They walked past a cage filled with tiny winged harpies, their feathers colored like the rainbow while their faces remained gray. “Look at them—pure works of art. And just wait until you hear them sing.” Seeing the tiny woman having difficulty swallowing, Mirei quickly moved along.

This place truly had everything. Every type of ‘mimi available to the public and beyond had its place here: from the smallest Nezumimi families kept in tiny cages to the largest canines conditioned into helplessness so that they did not even attempt struggling against their masters despite the physical advantage. At the center, a large aquarium tank housing a dolphin girl with a sleek gray tail posing for the crowd. She stuck her head and tail from below the tank, waving as the people eagerly locked in their auction bets. Mirei couldn’t help but stare at her glistening woman, getting closer. Everything here was normalized to the point that staring at a girl being sold off just felt natural, like a part of some underground ecosystem they dared not disturb.

When the reality of the situation set in, it was like a punch in the gut. Mirei felt a warm spit building up in her mouth as her legs began shaking. She wanted to scream. But nobody would hear her.

Tanji clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. Her status as a Kemonomimi was never the focus. Noah never treated her like one. But this place demanded that she focus on that aspect of her.

“We need to leave.” For the first time, it was the Neko who began talking, grabbing the hand of her human pretender.

“Come on. Don’t you want to at least get her evaluated?” Placing her hand on Tanji’s head, the ‘mimi hissed and jumped back as if it were made of hot metal. “Or is this about us exploiting women?” Her face was a mixture of amusement and exhaustion, this clearly being something she had to explain in the past. “That’s just an arbitrary division. Women. Men. Rich. Poor. Humans. Kemonomimi. No. The only true difference in the world is between those on top and those on bottom. These girls over there-” She pointed at a pair of Nekos posing for a potential buyer, struggling to move their bodies from position to position as their muscles became rigid. “Bottom.” She placed her hand on the human pretender’s shoulder as if she were an old friend. “Don’t you want to be on top?”

“I want to go home.” Mirei closed her eyes when she said that, opening them only to look into the crowd as if expecting a single person as disgusted as she was. There was nobody. They were all ecstatic. As Charlotte had said: this was part of the experience—a part of the fun. “I want to go home…” She again looked at the crowd for answers, seeing only the glint of their fangs. A single familiar feature appeared within it: a green forelock of hair sticking straight up.

Sunohara. The girl from the beach. What was she doing here? It looked like she wanted to ask the exact same thing, immediately recognizing both Mirei and Tanji the moment their eyes locked. Leaning into one of the security guards, she whispered something into his ear. Soon, they began approaching them.

Mirei broke away from Charlotte’s weak grasp, immediately lifting Tanji into her arms. “Olivia? Is…is everything alright?” Now, the woman herself was pushed to the side by the security as they enclosed the pair.

“Run!” Tanji ordered, hoping for the best.

Run. Running was the one thing Mirei was good at. No, it’s what she and every other Umamimi were made for. Mirei's brain was flooded with adrenaline as she clutched Tanji tightly and turned on her heels. The neon lights of the underground market blurred into streaks. Even these multicolored streaks couldn’t distract her from the one singular focus: getting out of here.

The cold air slashed against her face like many small shards of metal as she made it to the surface, continuing to run. They tried following behind her—sure—but she was quicker. Her heart was pounding like that of a newborn filly, pushing her along until the adrenaline began to ebb. She found herself in a narrow alley between two towering buildings. The urban sounds seemed muffled in the confined space as if it were a coffin.

Tanji squirmed in her arms, signaling that they should keep moving. "We can't stop here." She whispered urgently.

The only response Mirei could muster was her spitting at the ground, the viscous liquid mixing with her tears. “Home…” Wiping her face, she kept going, hugging the wall. “I want…to go home…”

The Kitsune traced circles around an already clean counter with a finger. Hiro—her true owner—was gone. She might have been given a new one in the shape of Noah, but it just felt different, like sleeping in a hotel room instead of one’s home. But this place—this mansion—was her home now.

Relaxing her arms, Koko decided to do her best. Her master may have been new, but she was still the same. People could rely on her, and there was no greater pleasure than being needed. Sure, Noah may have liked Tanji, but he needed her.

Before she even realized it, she had already answered the ringing phone.

“Hey Koko. I am just calling in to check up on—uh—Noah. You know.” A forced laughter came from the other side of the line. ”How Is he? Was the party fun? I was a bit busy so couldn’t show up.” Behind the closed door, there came the sound of a man wiping his already sore nose.

“Master is sleeping.” The Kitsune explained, twirling the cable around her finger. “Is there anything else I can do for him?”

“Oh no, dear. You’ve done enough.”

“I have already applied all the boosters-“

“Yes—Yes, you have. Now, his body just needs a little rest. So please, Koko, look after the house.” The EikoBio doctor ordered as if she wasn’t going to do that anyway. “It’s just cold. Must have gotten it from Mirei. Didn’t manifest when he was Naomi, but now—well…”

“I see.” Koko whispered into the plastic receiver while clenching her teeth, feeling a sense of restlessness. “I’ll look after the house.” That’s all she could promise while putting the handle away, taking a deep breath. It was a bit exhilarating, being given so much power as a Kemonomimi. The maid felt as if she had just officially climbed a step in the hierarchy of life. All the other ‘mimis were below her. Now, she was the master.