Yoruichi was fuming inside.
Yesterday had been the first time she fully transformed into her cat form — and because she wasn't yet familiar with controlling the body, she'd been tragically caught by that overly energetic Kuna Mashiro and subjected to utterly inhumane "torment."
Since then, she had resolved to train herself thoroughly, staying in cat form continuously and practicing relentlessly. Now she could unleash about half of her Shunpo strength — confident she wouldn't be caught again.
She looked up at Shiki with golden feline eyes, her mouth curling into a mysteriously human smirk.
Shiki, entirely unbothered, crouched down and gently stroked the top of her head like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"What a shame," he said with a kind smile. "Vice-Captain Kuna and Captain Muguruma went out for a day trip — they're not around today."
He gave her a look brimming with 'kindness':
"If you don't mind, you can play with me instead. I really like small animals."
Yoruichi meowed softly — a sweet, delicate "meow~"
Perfect. Infiltration: successful.
Then suddenly — her world flipped.
Whump!
She was scooped up into his arms, and the door slammed shut behind them with a clack as the bolt slid into place.
"Eh?"
A chill shot down her spine. Something was… wrong.
Why lock the door?
Why did the atmosphere suddenly shift?
Still, she kept her composure. After all, she was here to dig up Shiki Mirai's secrets — no need to panic.
She allowed herself to be carried while scanning the room rapidly with her golden eyes.
Spartan. Almost offensively bare. Just the essentials.
What is this, a monk's cell?
Did all the money he made from his serialized stories just go straight into buying alcohol?
She scanned the ceiling. The walls. The floorboards. Every inch of the space.
No hidden Reishi markings. No secret compartments. Nothing.
Her heart sank.
I know this guy — he's way too cautious. There's no way he'd leave anything important in here when he's out.
But even now that he was back, the room was still too clean.
Was this whole trip a waste?
Before she could think further, that infuriatingly handsome face suddenly moved in close — way too close — filling her entire vision.
"Kitty~ don't look around so much. Come play with me!"
And with that, Shiki collapsed backward onto the bed, cradling her in both arms, his smile filled with the obsessive tenderness of someone doting on a beloved pet.
The next second — before she could react — his face dove into the soft fur of her belly.
Snnnffff—!
"Meow?!"
WHAT THE HELL KIND OF ATTACK IS THAT?!
And then — those criminal hands got to work.
He vigorously kneaded her silky fur, stroked under her chin, behind her ears, even ran his fingers through her tail — gently, skillfully, maddeningly.
Let go of me! Shiki Mirai, you sick freak!
She thrashed violently, all four limbs flailing in a frenzy.
But his grip was unshakable. Worse yet — his technique… was alarmingly good.
Wait… does he know who I am? Is this humiliation on purpose?!
No… the look in his eyes — it was completely genuine. That of a man utterly entranced by a cute animal.
Don't tell me… is this guy… a closet cat freak?!
After waves of resistance, bursts of self-doubt, and an existential crisis…
Yoruichi gave up.
Whatever. I'm in cat form. No one knows it's me, Shihōin Yoruichi…
Just… just this once, maybe I'll allow it… okay, that spot feels kinda nice...
No one knew how long the ordeal lasted.
Eventually, when Shiki finally relaxed his grip, thoroughly satisfied, Yoruichi seized the moment.
In a blur of motion, she sprang from his arms, bolted to the window, and deftly flicked open the latch with a paw before launching into the night like a black arrow.
Her retreating figure — unmistakably flustered and furious.
Shiki gazed at the now-closed window, a self-satisfied grin on his lips.
Hmph. Trying to outplay me? Let's see how long you last against this deranged cat-lover persona!
Still — jokes aside — he knew he couldn't push his luck.
He'd need help from the 2nd Division soon for his writing… best not to overdo it.
With that pleasant thought, he flopped back onto the bed and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
…
"Yaaawn~"
Shiki stretched like a cat himself in the 9th Division courtyard, basking in the warm sunlight.
"What a great day… perfect for sleeping in and then—ugh."
He patted his flat coin pouch with a pitiful sigh.
"Too broke to even smell the cork of a bottle of Spiritual Intoxication…"
"Shiki. Don't move."
A flat voice spoke from behind.
His stretch froze instantly, arms raised like a strangely posed street statue.
Oh no. I know that voice.
9th Division 3rd Seat — Yamasue Tetsu.
Stoic as wrought iron, just like his name.
He was now pacing in slow, deliberate circles around Shiki, wielding a paintbrush and canvas, the brush making sharp swish swish swish sounds with every stroke.
This went on for a full hour.
By the time the sun was well above the rooftops, Tetsu finally stopped, nodded at his work with robotic satisfaction, and said:
"Done."
Hooo—!
Shiki exhaled the breath he'd been holding all hour. His whole body felt like it had turned to stone.
Massaging his aching neck, he turned toward Tetsu with a wry smile.
"Third Seat… Is this for the new book cover?"
Tetsu nodded without a shred of emotion.
"As of this morning, the title 'Soul Society's Most Beautiful Noble' has spread across the entire Seireitei. Since you were at the Division HQ, I figured I'd use the chance for reference."
He paused, then added a "small" request, his iron-grey eyes fixing on Shiki:
"Best case — you activate your Shikai so I can do an interior illustration for the first spread."
"Whoa there!"
Shiki instantly held up both hands.
Eyes wide, face full of panic.
"Third Seat… what does Soul Society's Most Beautiful Noble… have to do with me?!"
Tetsu's face didn't change in the slightest — as if stating a basic law of nature.
He wordlessly handed Shiki a sketch pulled from his portfolio.
"Yesterday. You released your Shikai at the Academy's training grounds. Many saw it. This was sent by a student who secretly sketched you from the sixth floor of the opposite building."
Shiki looked down.
The drawing showed him mid-Shikai, holding Winter Painting, snow falling around him — a noble figure bathed in cold grace.
Rough lines, amateurish execution…
But that haunting, ethereal quality? Unmistakable.
"..."
He looked up.
At the sky.
All I did was sleep in today. Why does the world feel… upside down?!
"So," Tetsu said with all the emotion of a statue, "how about that Shikai scene? For art. For sales."
Shiki massaged his forehead, headache blooming.
"No Shikai — too draining. But how about this: add a line to the promo text on the cover."
He cleared his throat and tried to look as sincere as possible.
"'Soul Society's Most Beautiful Noble — Shiki Mirai — proudly announces: New series coming in five days!' Sound good?"
Tetsu's stony face twitched.
Barely.
He stared directly into Shiki's soul and coldly muttered:
"You..."
"...Gonna quit again?!"
"Quit?! Who's quitting?!"
Shiki's face turned crimson.
He shouted back, indignant.
"This is artistic preparation! Creative gestation! It's— it's a temporary shift in perspective for literary elevation! Calling that quitting is—!"
Tetsu didn't even bother listening.
He just stared back with the dead eyes of someone who'd been betrayed too many times.
First time I believed you — I was naive.
Second time — sentimental.
But this is the fifth, sixth… eighth time?
And every time, you bailed clean.
To Yamasue Tetsu — the repeatedly betrayed loyal reader — this so-called "Most Beautiful Noble" Shiki Mirai...
Was nothing but a serial abandoner. A ruthless dropper of arcs. A blade-happy—
Damn eunuch!
He snorted and turned away, ignoring Shiki's shouts as he stomped off, clutching his sketchpad like a man nursing a broken heart.
…