The Spacequake alert had been over for quite a while. The cat still hadn't come back.
Back home after finishing the paperwork, Origami sat in the bedroom reading the assembly instructions for a children's bed.
The cat mat didn't quite match the apartment's décor—she'd decided a proper small bed would be better.
She was a little on edge. She didn't know which Spirit this latest incident had involved, and she had missed the optimal window to deploy. If this turned out to be another visit from Takamiya Yimi, she would feel even more restless.
Origami set the instructions on the table and went downstairs, thinking she'd check the children's sandbox where Yimi often went—maybe she was in the middle of another card battle. But heading down, she walked straight into Shiori coming from a direction she shouldn't have been.
"Shiori." A simple greeting.
Even simpler than usual. No one could keep a perfectly steady heart after everything that had happened recently.
"Hm?"
The person who appeared showed a micro-expression Origami had never seen before—because this was actually Natsumi, wearing someone else's face with Haniel.
Impersonating someone to destroy their reputation was remarkably easy with Haniel. She had been planning to investigate Itsuka Shiori's social circle first, but hadn't expected to bump into someone who knew her this quickly.
"My, it's so hot today." Since this wasn't her own face, and the other party was a girl anyway, Natsumi felt zero psychological resistance as she lifted the hem of the skirt.
Origami's gaze dropped. "Indeed."
"Hm?" That reaction was not what Natsumi had anticipated.
"Just like the usual Shiori," Origami said, very quickly.
"Just like—" Natsumi's eyelid twitched.
Just like the usual?! Does Itsuka Shiori normally greet people she knows by flipping her skirt up?!
Origami crouched down. "But today's Shiori is a little strange. You don't normally wear underwear."
"D—don't?!" Natsumi yanked the skirt back down at once.
Origami, completely deadpan: "And even when you do, never anything this conservative."
"Conservative?!"
What—compared to the real Itsuka Shiori, she was being restrained?!
Origami stood back up and walked toward her.
"What—what are you doing?"
"The same thing I always do. Let me have a feel." Origami reached toward her chest.
"Kyah!" Natsumi screamed and bolted, kicking up a cloud of dust behind her.
Origami dusted herself off and continued calmly toward the children's sandbox.
...
Natsumi bit her thumbnail and drifted through the air, her gloomy expression unchanged.
She had miscalculated. She hadn't expected Itsuka Shiori to be some kind of universally acknowledged deviant. It was frankly criminal that someone this shameless had an elementary-school-aged little sister.
Right—this was a person who could pull off something as unhinged as teaching her little sister to hand over underwear to keep herself safe. Normal logic simply didn't apply.
Which meant trying to ruin her reputation wasn't particularly viable. For someone with this little shame, there probably wasn't anything that would stick—and she might even enjoy it.
Natsumi returned to her temporary base in defeat.
Haniel could technically be used to absorb people through the mirror at the tip of the broomstick, but for some reason she couldn't quite name, she hadn't done that to Yimi—she had only added a lock to the castle she'd conjured.
But no matter how she'd imagined things going, she hadn't expected to come back and find the little padlock she'd crafted into an adorable shape lying quietly on the floor without a single scratch on it. Completely undamaged.
The small girl who should have been obediently asleep in the bed was nowhere in sight. The infuriating little brat had been scheming after all! After everything she'd done for her.
—No. How had the child unlocked it in the first place? She'd never believe for a second that a child that small could pick a lock.
She should have seen this coming. How many people in this world have cat ears? The little creature was a Spirit too!
Natsumi flew out, and as she did, an idea struck her: why not just kidnap everyone in Itsuka Shiori's social circle, one by one? Even a shameless deviant would crack eventually, right?
But she'd have to find the child first... hm?
She hadn't flown far before she spotted Yimi. Maybe it was those short legs—little-girl legs that couldn't carry her as fast as an adult—but the bigger reason was—
An office drone drained of all hope was shuffling down the street, face ashen, when he felt a tug at his jacket hem. He looked back and found an adorably boyish little girl looking up at him, one hand gripping his jacket and the other pointing at the top of her own head.
"I only have two ears."
"Huh?" He had no idea what she meant—but somehow being approached by such a cute child swept a surprising amount of the unpleasantness straight out of his chest.
Yimi let go and immediately grabbed a second passerby, showing him the top of her head. "I only have two ears."
She wanted the whole world to know. Yimi was a normal, proper, fully-grown cat right now.
The little cat had assumed that once she grew up, her ears would naturally fall off on their own.
From her vantage point above, Natsumi watched as a row of office workers who had apparently lost all faith in existence began involuntarily lining themselves up, waiting for the little girl to talk to them and restore their will to live.
"Congratulations, Host, for unlocking the achievement [Fan Meet and Greet]. Reward: +5% Portal Ability."
The corners of Natsumi's lips curved ever so slightly upward.
The little thing was clearly enjoying the conveniences Haniel had provided.
...Though, honestly—people who get off work this early haven't lost faith in life at all. A bunch of lolicons.
Natsumi found a spot to land, instantly shifted her appearance to that of a polished, impeccably dressed professional, and strode over to scoop Yimi up. She offered a small bow to the gathered workers:
"I'm terribly sorry—I hope she hasn't caused any trouble."
"No, no, we should really be thanking you—"
Thanking me for what?
Afraid the child would scream "kidnapper!" and cause a scene, Natsumi gave one more quick bow and carried her away.
Perhaps because of the favor of hiding her cat ears, Yimi went without a single word of protest.
"I underestimated you, little one. During a Spacequake alert, no ordinary person would still be out on the street. How does this convenient little power of mine feel to use?"
She pressed an index finger to Yimi's lips before she could answer and continued: "But I'm sorry to say the effect isn't permanent—it stops working once you leave my side. What a dilemma. Big sis would love to help you, hehe~..."
Yimi blinked. "You want to help me? For real?"
Natsumi's eyes shifted. "Who could refuse the hope in a child's eyes? But what to do—if you're away from me, you'll still need to wear the hat."
"What do you want in exchange?" Yimi had always remembered the Saint Master's teachings: if you want something, trade something else for it. Though the only things she had on her—cards and underwear—this person clearly wanted neither.
"What a smart child." Natsumi smiled with the satisfaction of someone whose plan was falling into place. "Let me think... how about staying by my side forever?"
Itsuka Shiori was a pervert who teaches little girls dirty things, after all.
"No. Different trade. Something you actually want." The little girl shook her head.
"You're bargaining with me? You keep going on about wishes—you're not actually Aladdin's lamp, are you?" Natsumi sat down beside Yimi, tapping her chin, going along with the game for reasons she couldn't explain: "What do I want... how about you make big sis more beautiful? Just kidding—I'm already beautiful enough—"
"Mm... I'll try."
Yimi didn't fully understand the request, but she rose up on her tiptoes, held her hand toward Natsumi's face, and tried to draw on the Holy Corpse power that was now eighty percent fused with her.
"What are you doing?" Natsumi watched that little hand with puzzlement—then her expression shifted: "Wait. What exactly are you doing?"
Her spiritual power was draining away in an uncontrollable torrent toward some unknown destination. A situation that should have sent her into panic—but a sacred white light suddenly enveloped every corner of the castle, forcibly soothing the terror rising in Natsumi's chest.
Warmth poured over her skin—like the gentle embrace of a mother she had never known. Perhaps this was what people called 'happiness.'
But within that warm, luminous cocoon, she found herself staring straight back at the most wretched version of herself from before she became a Spirit. The memories she had long since forgotten—or perhaps deliberately buried—came rushing back all at once.
Her body shattered like a broken mirror again. The false concealment failed. Stripped back to her true self, her entire frame shrank dramatically—the sleek purple bodysuit dissolved, replaced by childish, whimsical clothing: a witch's hat with sharpened edges instead of the previous rounded brim, ringed with clusters of uncut emeralds. The upper body was covered by little more than a blanket, draped so loosely it seemed liable to slip off at any moment; below, billowing trousers paired with mismatched purple-and-yellow striped stockings of different lengths, finished with a pair of pointed boots to match the hat.
No—an Astral Dress was a garment sustained by spiritual power. With her spiritual power suddenly depleted to a critical low, she couldn't even maintain the most basic Astral Dress.
Wrung nearly dry in an instant, Natsumi sat in a W-sit on the floor, utterly bare, her true self exposed for the first time. It took her a long moment to come back to herself.
Gradually, she realized what had happened. The spiritual power she had always relied on—the force that maintained her 'beautiful' form—was spent. What was left exposed was her ugly, real self.
What had happened?
She scrambled backward on bare feet, step by step, retreating from the child who looked about the same age as Yoshino—staring up at Yimi, who was even younger than herself, with terrified eyes.
"Don't... don't look at me..."
The little cat looked down at her own small hand, puzzled.
Having been only a cat before and only a child now, she had never properly developed a sense of aesthetics. The concept of 'beautiful' was entirely beyond her—just as she'd never found the previous version of Natsumi particularly stunning in the first place.
Did 'unattractive' count as a misfortune? That, the little cat couldn't determine. She didn't enjoy looking unappealing herself, but she couldn't be sure it applied the same way here.
If the Saint Master were here, she would probably deliver a lecture along the lines of "don't judge by appearances."
Because she had no real frame of reference for beauty, Yimi couldn't say whether Natsumi had gotten more or less attractive. But Natsumi's spiritual power had been received by her—so the 'misfortune' of being unattractive should have, in principle, been successfully transferred away.
Yimi clasped her hands behind her back and looked at the panicking Natsumi with honest confusion.
"You've gotten prettier."
[text corrupted — likely garbled closing line]