She brushed her fingers over her lips.
Su Yuzu looked at the woman in front of her, who had suddenly turned so bashful she seemed ready to nestle into someone's arms like a little bird.
She'd... she'd been so forward just a moment ago.
But that was Tsukiyomi Fuya for you—high attack, paper defense. Inexperienced to the bone, blushing furiously inside, and yet insisting on putting up that domineering front.
It was cute, though.
"Cute—"
Su Yuzu studied the woman beneath her: left arm folded across her chest, watery pale-violet eyes cast off to the right, her gaze fixed on the bare, injured curve of her own shoulder.
It was hardly a word that fit the Tsukiyomi Fuya everyone knew, and yet nothing described her better right now.
Tsukiyomi Fuya's figure was a little too lovely, her arms a little too slender, her hands a little too small—small enough that Su Yuzu could hold them fast without any struggle breaking free, let alone use them to cover anything.
As for the pillow Tsukiyomi Fuya had been hugging earlier—
It had been so thoroughly in the way that Su Yuzu had tucked it under the woman's waist.
Tsukiyomi Fuya pressed her lips together.
A sweet, crisp fragrance still lingered between her lips and teeth.
She had never imagined a day would come when she'd be the one taking the lead.
And with... with...
Out of the corner of her eye she caught those crimson eyes, that upturned corner of a mouth, and Tsukiyomi Fuya felt as though her whole body was about to give out on her. Her shoulders gave an involuntary shiver.
It was too cold.
Yes... the air conditioning in the hospital room must have been set far too low.
Until a moment ago her head had been full of one worry: that she'd taken advantage of a vulnerable moment, slipping in when Yuzu was most afraid of the dark, triggering the suspension bridge effect—and that was the only reason Little Yuzu cared so much about her.
She hadn't noticed that she herself was standing squarely in the middle of that same suspension bridge.
That was what people meant, presumably, by the player being blind where the onlooker sees clearly.
All Tsukiyomi Fuya could do was try not to look at Yuzu. She let her sidelong gaze settle instead on the enormous, glowing blue feather in the girl's hand.
She knew—
That was almost certainly a Holy Relic with some special function.
That Holy Relic might have the power to drag her back from the brink of death, but... it would probably also make her sign some unfavorable contract.
Binding the threads of her Fate and Little Yuzu's tightly together.
So that was why Little Yuzu had told her, again and again,
"The rest of Senpai's life already belongs to me, you know."
That was why Little Yuzu had said, "Senpai... there's no turning back for you now."
"Senpai—"
"You're already my possession."
In truth, a small part of Tsukiyomi Fuya still hesitated.
She didn't feel prepared.
She didn't feel ready to shoulder that kind of responsibility.
Even now... it seemed Tsukiyomi Fuya still hadn't seen the true face of the girl on top of her.
In her eyes, Su Yuzu was still that girl—sly-looking, yes, forever teasing other girls on purpose, but underneath it all starved for affection, terrified of the dark, curled up in her arms and sleeping so sweetly.
Tsukiyomi Fuya only pressed her lips together.
Savoring the sweet, cool taste that still lingered in her mouth.
That brief hesitation was quickly shoved to the back of her mind.
"But what of it—"
"The one who owns me will be Little Yuzu."
"The one bound tightly to me will be Little Yuzu." That was already better than anything else.
Or rather... it couldn't possibly be better.
Tsukiyomi Fuya arched her waist and watched the girl take up the glowing blue feather covered in strange script, holding it the way one holds a quill.
The tip of the feather stopped a few inches above Tsukiyomi Fuya's lower belly.
Tsukiyomi Fuya stared at the strange characters running along the blue feather.
And right then, of all moments, the scholar in her stirred.
Her gaze was drawn to the War Maiden's Contract, and she wanted, badly, to make a rubbing of that writing.
After all, it might well be a one-of-a-kind item, usable only once.
As for Su Yuzu... looking at the woman's soft, slender waist beneath her, she had fallen into deep thought of her own.
She had no idea how to use the War Maiden's Contract.
According to its description, all she had to do was use the War Maiden's Contract—this strange blue feather—to write the terms of the contract on Tsukiyomi Fuya's body, and the contract would take effect.
Beyond whatever terms she wrote, Tsukiyomi Fuya would simply appear in her Operator roster.
And her Favorability would be locked at "Obedience."
But... how exactly was she supposed to word the contract?
Su Yuzu had genuinely never written a delicate little agreement in this particular format.
And what about the layout of the thing?
Having forced herself to memorize every character on that blue feather, and with her nerves fraying, Tsukiyomi Fuya had long since shut her eyes.
She waited for the girl's nib to touch down, imagining what sort of pain it would be—an agony that pierced straight through the soul, or something maddeningly itchy... some wicked clause meant to turn her into Little Yuzu's slave.
Or something else entirely.
But nothing came.
Every muscle in her body had gone taut, dreading and longing for the quill to fall, and yet... one minute passed. Two minutes passed.
To Tsukiyomi Fuya, it felt like a year had gone by.
The girl's pen still hadn't touched her.
Her nerves felt ready to snap. She opened her eyes and looked up at the hesitating Yuzu straddling her. "Yu... zu?"
"Sorry, Tsukiyomi-senpai." Su Yuzu apologized. "I honestly don't know how a contract is supposed to be written."
"Or what form it's supposed to take."
This might be an agreement that stayed on Tsukiyomi-senpai's body for the rest of her life. Su Yuzu didn't want it coming out crooked and messy, something Tsukiyomi-senpai would agonize over forever.
"Would a cat betrothal letter work?" Su Yuzu finally landed on one contract format she'd actually seen before.
"A what?" Tsukiyomi Fuya was sure she'd misheard.
She had, of course, heard of such things.
In ancient times, before taking a cat into your home, you wrote it a formal letter of engagement—characters spiraling around in a circle, recording the date and place the cat was taken in, its appearance, its temperament, and so on.
But... Little Yuzu meant to bind her with a cat betrothal letter?
Was she... a pet!?
If it had been anyone else, Tsukiyomi Fuya would have fabricated a star and dropped it on them by now.
But she looked at the girl above her, so careful, so cautious.
"I... a cat betrothal letter is the only kind I've ever seen," Su Yuzu said, apparently aware her suggestion had gone a bit far.
Maybe it would have been better not to say anything at all.
But—
Tsukiyomi Fuya bit her lip.
A cat betrothal letter, then. Fine.
Shame aside... being Little Yuzu's cat didn't sound so bad.
Far away, in the Soga clan's hospital.
The little cat lying belly-down on the bed, tail swishing, suddenly shook her head. A bad feeling had come over her.
The feeling that her position was hanging by a thread.
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