The Dimensional Menagerie
Yomi Yuki told herself she wasn't nervous. That lie lasted all of thirty seconds after she stepped through the door.
The sign above the Emporium flickered again—this time spelling her name in glowing silver letters before twisting back into Pet Emporium.
She stopped cold. "Okay. That's not creepy at all."
Inside, the store was exactly as she'd left it: impossible aisles, glowing tanks, and the hamster in aisle three snoring loud enough to shake the ceiling tiles. The Shopkeeper, as usual, sat with a steaming cup of tea like nothing in existence could bother them.
And at her ankles, purring softly, was the galaxy-eyed kitten.
"Astri," Yomi muttered, crouching down to look at the little furball. "You're not supposed to be here."
Astri blinked at her. Galaxies spun in those eyes, whole constellations wheeling like they had better things to do than listen to Yomi argue.
"Fine. But you're staying in here today."
She scooped Astri up, dropped her gently into an empty cage, and shut the latch. Smirked. Victory.
Turned around.
Astri was already sitting on the counter, licking her paw like the cage had never existed.
"…Cool. Love that for me."
"Rule Three," the Shopkeeper said suddenly, voice drifting like smoke.
Yomi jumped. "Gods, warn people before you materialize in their ear."
The Shopkeeper ignored her. "Payment is not always money."
Yomi frowned. "That sounds… exploitable."
The Shopkeeper sipped their tea, clearly finished with the conversation.
Yomi groaned. "Great. More cryptic rules. You ever think about writing these down in, I don't know, a pamphlet?"
Before she could keep ranting, the door chimed. Not with violet lightning this time—today it fractured like a mirror breaking. A tall, robed scholar stepped through, clutching a leather-bound tome, muttering to himself. His eyes flicked over the cages like he was inspecting stock at an auction.
Seconds later, another portal cracked open beside him, this one spilling red mist and embers. A demon noble stepped out, horns polished, cloak sweeping dramatically across the tiles. He cleared his throat. "I require… something small. Manageable."
Yomi raised a brow. "From you, that's either adorable or terrifying."
The demon leaned down, lips pulling back to reveal way too many teeth. "Preferably both."
The next hour was chaos.
The demon noble crouched before a tank, trying to coax out what looked like a glowing rabbit with wings. "Come now, little morsel, I would treat you with dignity." The rabbit spat sparks and vanished in a puff of smoke.
Meanwhile, the scholar ignored everything Yomi said, flipping through his tome as he pressed his palm against cages. "Something that sees truth… something that bends lies…" His mutters were sharp, desperate, like a prayer gone wrong.
Astri padded after Yomi the whole time, tail flicking, galaxies in her eyes reflecting every customer's movement.
Finally, the scholar stopped at a sleek black hound with eyes like burning silver. He pressed his hand harder to the bars. "Yes. You will serve me."
The hound growled. The lights dimmed. Words slithered into the air, written in smoke: NO CHOICE.
Reality cracked. Shelves warped sideways, glass tanks melted into water and reformed again, air bending in painful pressure. Yomi staggered back, clutching Astri against her chest.
The Shopkeeper still didn't move.
The scholar shouted louder, pouring some incantation into the air, trying to force the bond. The hound's growl deepened until it became a howl—raw, otherworldly, enough to rattle the marrow in Yomi's bones.
The Shopkeeper finally spoke, voice like a hammer slamming shut:
"Rule One. The pets choose the owner."
The tome in the scholar's hands burst into flame. His scream cut off as the portal behind him dragged him back, robes tearing in the pull. He vanished. The hound settled, curling in its cage as if nothing had happened.
Silence rang sharp in Yomi's ears.
She swallowed hard. "So… that's normal? That's just… Tuesday here?"
The Shopkeeper gave her one long, unreadable look. "The Emporium doesn't make mistakes in who it accepts."
"Right. Totally reassuring. Thanks."
Yomi turned away, only to find Astri staring at her again—closer than before, pressed tight against her leg, galaxies blazing bright.
Yomi sighed. "Don't look at me like that. I'm not your person."
Astri purred, tail curling like a promise.
Yomi groaned. "Yeah. I'm doomed."