#chenya fluff

The day was warm in that lazy Sage Island way, the kind of heat that made everything shimmer and slow down, the kind of heat that made your tail sway with feline self-satisfaction. You weren’t supposed to be out; you were supposed to be sitting in a boring classroom at your public school pretending to care about whatever stale lecture the teacher was droning on about. But skipping was practically a refined talent of yours, something sharpened to an art over years of slipping between rules, expectations, and authority.

You yawned into your palm with a bored, sharp-toothed smirk curling the corner of your mouth, stretching your arms above your head as you strutted down the sidewalk like you owned it because honestly, you did. Your boots clicked softly with every step, the rhythm matching the sway of your hips, a confident danger in your gait. Eyes only half-lidded, but behind that lazy look you were alert, poised, observant in that way only a predator who enjoyed trouble for breakfast could be.

You’d slipped away from campus the second the bell rang, prowling across Sage Island with the kind of purpose that only spelled mischief. Someone from a rival school had been poking around your territory, mouthing off about your school, and worse, playing two girls at once like he had the right. You would’ve dragged Meowlody and Purrsephone along to make the scheme even sweeter, but you told them to focus on their studies and that you’d take care of it yourself.

This kind of entertainment was personal, like scratching an itch behind your ear that only your claws could reach. You stopped under the tall shade of an old oak tree, leaning your shoulder into its bark as you narrowed your eyes at the crowd across the town square, watching, calculating. Perfect distance. Perfect angle. Perfect timing. Your mind purred with anticipation.

You spotted the guy loudmouth, liar, fake sweetheart on Magicam leaning in close with a girl who definitely wasn’t his supposed girlfriend. And then he left his phone on the table to go to the bathroom. Oh, he might as well have placed it in your hands and begged you to ruin him.

You slipped forward in that fluid way only a werecat could manage, snatching the phone before anyone noticed, your smirk sharp enough to cut glass. “Look who’s lyin’ like a dog just waitin’ for this kitty to scratch,” you giggled under your breath, eyes narrowing as that familiar thrill sparked in your chest. You cleared your throat, shifted your voice effortlessly into his tone, and called his girlfriend, telling her in his voice to meet him at the café. Then you tossed the phone back onto the table like it had never been touched, slid back under the oak tree, and watched the chaos unfold.

When the girlfriend arrived and caught him with the other girl, their bickering erupted instantly. You laughed, one hand resting on your hip. “Mrow, too easy.” Your orange ears flicked in smug delight as you tossed your hair back and prepared to savor the show. That’s when you heard it a soft giggle, right above your ear. A voice purred practically in your hair. “Skipping school? Tsk, tsk~ And here I thought I was the only cat who caused mischief for fun.”

Your ears shot upright, tail fluffing involuntarily before you forced it back down. You snapped your head around, claws half-extended. No one behind you. No scent. No silhouette. “Ugh. If this is some wannabe stalker, scratch off,” you hissed, lip curling a laugh drifted from above you, airy and far too entertained. “What if I’m a very charming stalker?”

You glared up and there he was. Lounging upside-down on a branch like gravity was merely a polite suggestion. Purple hair messy in a way that looked deliberately stylish, striped tail swaying lazily like he had all the time in the world. Yellow eyes glowing with mischief, smile so wide and too pleased with himself. His form flickered faintly at the edges, as if reality couldn’t quite keep a hold on him.

You blinked once, then rolled your eyes so hard it could’ve counted as an exercise. “A floating hairball. Great.” He laughed, delighted, his head disappearing and reappearing beside you, then in front of your face, then hovering a few inches away all with that glowing, curved grin. "Can you stand on your head?” he asked as if that were an actual greeting. You hissed, irritated, turning your head away with a slow dramatic flick.

“Mrow, great. Another weirdo stranger.” “I’m a stranger. You’re a stranger. That makes us a pair of strange~” he chimed, floating down until he stood well, hovered at your eye level.

You flicked an ear in annoyance. “That doesn’t make sense… Who even are you?” He put a hand over his chest, theatrically offended. “I am Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker,” he declared, name rolling off his tongue like he’d practiced it in a mirror. “Am I a cat? A purrrrson? A mimsy borogove? A mome rath with style?” “…Arta- whatever” you deadpanned. He giggled, carefree and dizzy and sparkly in the most infuriating way. “Everyone calls me Chenya.” “Your nickname is a pun?” you asked, eyes narrowing. He nodded proudly.

You scoffed loud enough to disturb a bird. “Wow... Lame" but your tail curled once before you snapped it straight again. Annoying. “Nyhehe, I saw what you did to that guy,” Chenya sang. You raised a brow. “Oh, me-yow? Never,” you replied with a matching smirk, eyes narrowing like knives.

From that moment on, he stuck to you like static cling. Every time you came into town, he was there sometimes just a floating grin bobbing beside your shoulder, sometimes a pair of luminous eyes blinking in a tree branch you knew you’d checked already, sometimes fully materializing in a swirl of purple stripes just to watch you groan. His riddles, his nonsense… you found it endlessly, claw-grindingly irritating, and yet he always managed to see right through your sharp remarks and hairpin turns of attitude.

“Haste makes waste, so I rarely hurry. But if a ferret were about to dart up my dress, I’d run,” he mused once while drifting upside down beside you. You stared at him like he was a walking headache. “Mrow, you’re so peculiar.” “Correction I’m mad,” he chirped, tapping your nose with one clawed fingertip you always hissed and swatted him away.

And yet… he kept showing up. Watching your schemes from afar, appearing beside you whenever Meowlody and Purrsephone left you alone, circling you with lazy loops as you plotted. You’d mock him, he’d tease you, and somehow you fell into a dance neither of you could stop. Somewhere during those exchanges perhaps at the fountain when your claw traced under his chin and his eyes softened. Chenya began to fall for you fully, hopelessly, first.

When NRC hosted its open day for the VDC event, he appeared in front of you despite being RSA. He smiled at you before glancing away coyly, then suddenly leaned in, licked your cheek, and vanished in thin air as you stood frozen.

You gagged dramatically to Meowlody and Purrsephone. “EW. What is this- this positive… flowery feeling I’m having inside?” The twins exchanged knowing looks while you glared at Chenya’s retreating shimmer. A couple of days later, you’d spent the entire morning crafting the perfect little act of revenge, claws sharpened both literally and figuratively. Some stuck-up classmates thought they could skip inviting you, Meowlody, and Purrsephone to their party and get away with it, they clearly forgot who they were dealing with. You had the plan set, subtle enough to not get caught but satisfying enough to ruin their precious little get-together.

A small, harmless issue. Nothing life-threatening. Just enough chaos to make them think twice next time. You weren’t doing anything dramatic, just a little reminder that excluding you or your girls from little pranks you did on one girl is a dangerous game. You crouched behind a marble planter near the courtyard of your school, tail flicking with growing amusement at the thought of their ignorant faces. Your heartbeat settled into the familiar rhythm that always came before a good bit of mischief. Everything was going according to plan. Perfectly. Quietly. Smoothly.

Which, of course, is exactly when Chenya decided to show up. A voice purred behind you, melodic and smugly playful, drifting out of thin air the way smoke curls from a flame. “And no scheme of ours can raise any sort of smile, it seems?” he cooed, the words lilting with riddling whimsy. It was the kind of tone that vibrated with mischief not your mischief. His.

You hissed before you even fully turned, every muscle tightening as your ears flattened instinctively. Your head snapped toward him, only to find absolutely nothing just a grin hovering in midair, purple stripes beginning to materialize around it. That stupid grin. That annoying, floating, ever-smirking grin that signaled the ruination of your perfectly timed moment. The sound of his laugh, half giggle echoed as he fully faded into view behind you, tail curling in amusement as if mocking the tension simmering off you.

You jerked your head toward the group of classmates who were supposed to be the recipients of your carefully planned revenge, only to watch the opportunity slip between your claws like water. They were already moving away, oblivious. The perfect timing you’d built up all morning evaporated in an instant. Your eye twitched. Then your jaw tightened, tail lashed once, sharply, betraying the complete meltdown simmering just beneath your skin. And you could feel Chenya’s grin widening behind you, drinking in your frustration like it was his favourite tea.

When you snapped your head back toward him, you were already seething. “Are you kidding me?” came out as more of a growl than a question. Chenya blinked innocently, because of course, he did, he found your anger delightfully entertaining. He opened his mouth, probably preparing some quirky comment or another riddle that would make you want to claw his whiskers off but he didn’t get the chance.

You grabbed him by the collar and yanked him closer. His eyes widened, grin faltering in genuine surprise for once. And before you could second-guess the impulse, before you could stop the frustration from boiling over into something reckless, you kissed him.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t even particularly long. It was sharp, irritated, and fueled by the kind of emotion you refused to acknowledge out loud. A quick, angry kiss meant solely to shut him up, to punish him, to make him understand you ruined everything.

Chenya froze. Completely. His tail went rigid mid-sway, the tip suspended in the air like it had forgotten how motion worked. His ears perked sharply, twitching once before going still, and even the floating stripes that framed his cheeks halted as though someone had hit pause on Wonderland physics. His eyes were usually mischievous, unreadable, widened just a fraction before slowly, impossibly, that grin crept back onto his face. Not the trademark one dripping with riddles and trouble. No. This one was softer, surprised, pleased in a way that made the air thicken between you.

His hands slid around your waist with an instinctive, dreamy smoothness, pulling you in with a delicacy that contrasted the shock in his expression. The closeness made your stomach flip, and not in a way you enjoyed acknowledging. He leaned closer, clearly hoping, maybe even expecting, that you weren’t done that your irritation tasted sweet to him, addictive, something he wanted more of.

You didn’t let him get that far. Your hand shot up, fingers threading into his hair at the back of his head, gripping firmly before tugging his head back just enough to make his breath hitch. His grin cracked wider, eyes fluttering for a moment in something dangerously close to bliss. And then you bit his lip sharp enough to make him gasp, soft enough to leave him beaming.

His tail curled around yours without even asking permission, the two striped appendages winding together with an intimacy you absolutely did not intend but couldn’t immediately undo. Reality snapped back into motion with the rapid thrum of your pulse, and before Chenya could even think to chase your mouth again, you pushed him away. Hard enough to make him stumble a step, light enough to make it clear you did it out of irritation… mostly.

He blinked at you, mouth parted slightly, that soft grin morphing instantly back into his perfected, cocky Cheshire smile. You masked the wildfire under your skin with an expression of bored annoyance, one you’d perfected long before Chenya had ever decided to be a recurring pest in your life. You pretended your heart wasn’t hammering so hard you could feel it in your fingertips. You pretended you hadn’t just kissed and then bitten the most bothersome cat in existence. You pretended you weren’t one second away from either throttling him or dragging him back toward you. Combustion disguised as indifference.

“Okay,” you said flatly, flicking your tail behind you with a practiced ease, “officially ignoring you now.” and you walked off, chin lifted in crisp confidence, steps sharp and controlled, refusing to grant him even a single glance over your shoulder. You knew if you looked back, even for a heartbeat, he’d catch the crack in your composure. And you refused to give him that.

Behind you, Chenya blinked, stunned for all of half a second before delight glittered across his features. His smile widened so far the edges of it warped slightly, glitching at the corners as if it couldn’t contain how amused he was. The striped marks along his cheeks brightened, flickered, and then faded from sight entirely as his body dissolved piece by piece arms, torso, tail, stripes until all that remained was a floating, radiant grin. A quiet chuckle escaped him, echoing like a whisper caught between dimensions, and the disembodied smile drifted after you with calm, eerie certainty. Eager. Intrigued. Entirely too pleased with the chaos you’d let slip between your claws.

He wasn’t letting you walk away that easily and you both knew it.

━━━ ．°˖✧ 🐱ྀི ˚₊ ⊹ Dating Chenya is like your falling down a rabbit hole into a world where reality tilts sideways just enough to make your stomach flutter in the best and worst

━━━ ．°˖✧ 🐱ྀི ˚₊ ⊹ He is constantly teasing as if he was a shadow stitched to your footsteps, appearing in the corner of your vision only to vanish when you turn your head

━━━ ．°˖✧ 🐱ྀི ˚₊ ⊹ He loves provoking reactions from you smirks, scoffs, swats of your tail and he treasures them in ways he tries (and fails) to hide. You pretend you hate how soft he becomes around you, how his grin lingers longer, how his eyes soften when he thinks you’re not looking, but deep down it warms something in you that’s been cold for years with him, trouble stops feeling like a weapon and starts feeling like a language only the two of you speak

━━━ ．°˖✧ 🐱ྀི ˚₊ ⊹ He coaxes the softness out of you, inch by inch, like tugging a ribbon loose. You never admit it, not out loud but you let him stay close when no one else is around

━━━ ．°˖✧ 🐱ྀི ˚₊ ⊹ You let him touch you in ways you’d scratch anyone else for even attempting fingers playing with the torn edge of your ear, tail brushing your tail in quiet affection, his forehead resting against yours when he’s feeling bold

━━━ ．°˖✧ 🐱ྀི ˚₊ ⊹ In return, you bring out the thrill-seeker in him, the reckless glint in his eyes that says he’d follow you anywhere. You teach him sharper mischief, cleverer pranks, and the art of poetic payback, all while he teaches you that vulnerability doesn’t have to be a weakness

━━━ ．°˖✧ 🐱ྀི ˚₊ ⊹ When he disappears, it no longer irritates you… at least not as much. Instead, you listen for the faint shift in air pressure that means he’s reappearing behind you, or the warm brush of his tail curling around your wrist

━━━ ．°˖✧ 🐱ྀི ˚₊ ⊹ Sometimes you catch him watching you with an expression that makes your heart stumble soft, adoring, filled with wonder like he still can’t believe he gets to be someone you let in and in those moments you feel your chest tighten, your claws retracting instinctively, because no one has ever looked at you like you’re worth being seen. He does. Every time and it scares you, and you love it

━━━ ．°˖✧ 🐱ྀི ˚₊ ⊹ Together, you become something dangerous and beautiful a pair of cats dancing on the edge of chaos, claws hidden but ready, hearts guarded but slowly, surely, intertwining ━━━ ．°˖✧ 🐱ྀི ˚₊ ⊹ Chenya calls you “copycat” in the fondest, most infuriating way possible. He’ll sing-song it next to your ear after you mimic someone perfectly, which always earns him a swat of your tail and a smug little smirk he pretends not to melt over

━━━ ．°˖✧ 🐱ྀི ˚₊ ⊹ He thinks your voice-changing skill is the hottest thing he’s ever seen. Every time you pull it off flawlessly, he gets this wide-eyed, sparkling look like you just performed real magic. Then comes the kiss quick, impulsive, right on the lips and you shove him away with a hiss only to immediately tug him back by his shirt

━━━ ．°˖✧ 🐱ྀི ˚₊ ⊹ Chenya is obsessed with the way you purr out threats like they’re compliments. Whenever you tap his nose with a lazy “Hmmm. You’re asking for it.” he practically melts, tail fluffing up while he trails after you like a mischievous shadow who’s already planning how to test your patience again

━━━ ．°˖✧ 🐱ྀི ˚₊ ⊹ You have a talent for cutting people down with a single sentence. The moment someone steps out of line or a famillar Bat chick from your school, you tilt your head, tail flicking, and sneer, “You think you’re all bat? Please. What have you ever done?” Chenya watches from behind you with the biggest grin, eyes glowing with delight. He doesn’t stop you in fact, he loves it until you get too close to claws-out, then he gently pulls you back by the waist with a soft, “Easy there"

━━━ ．°˖✧ 🐱ྀི ˚₊ ⊹ When you cuddle sometimes rest your cheek on the top of his head. Your ear twitches when he purrs softly and you purr back before you can stop yourself the moment you realize it, you bury your face in his hair, embarrassed as he giggles

━━━ ．°˖✧ 🐱ྀི ˚₊ ⊹ Trey and Riddle have heard about you and instantly worried about Chenya, but they noticed how the guy looked happy every time mentioning you

━━━ ．°˖✧ 🐱ྀི ˚₊ ⊹ When it was summer holidays, and Chenya was back in the Queendom of roses, he'd spam text you, you'd both also go on calls every now and then. Chenya likes to chat about you to his grandpa, grinning ear to ear

━━━ ．°˖✧ 🐱ྀི ˚₊ ⊹ Chenya loves stealing your attention, literally dropping into your lap, hanging upside-down from railings above you, or popping into your locker even though he's supposed to be in RSA but when you open it your response is always the same “Mrow... Do you mind?” Followed immediately by you fixing his hair, adjusting his shirt or letting your tail loop with his in lazy affection

━━━ ．°˖✧ 🐱ྀི ˚₊ ⊹ Even Purrsephone and Meowlody begrudgingly accept him because he makes you happy like genuinely happy something they’ve never seen from you without a scheme behind it

━━━ ．°˖✧ 🐱ྀི ˚₊ ⊹ His madness balances your fire your sharpness sharpens his mischief and somewhere between stolen kisses, botched pranks, vanishing acts, and long afternoons wandering the island, you realize you’ve given him one of your nine lives. Perhaps even more and Chenya, for all his theatrics, guards that gift with a loyalty you didn’t expect, always appearing exactly when you need him even when you’d never admit you do

—> when chenya first realises he has a crush on you he pushes it down, there’s no way he has a crush on you right? you both are just bestfriends.

—> but then his pranks start including you joining them, the feelings only increase, he finds himself wanting to be with you more.

—> you arent surprised when his pranks begin aiming at you become more frequent it’s just like when you both met for the first time ever, one minute he was infront of you the next he vanished; well up until you saw his head right beside you.

—> him however, he’s confused he doesn’t understand at all why he would like you, and he doesn’t believe you feel the same.

—> up until he is plotting something he vanishes as soon as you and cater come over away, distancing from away from everyone else currently at the heartslabyul dorm for the unbirthday party.

—> you guys are completely oblivious to him being so close to you, him on the other hand he was waiting for the perfect time to shine, up until he heard you say “i mean i don’t know if he would like me back”

—> he immediately froze and forgot about his whole prank, listening eagerly, to find out who ‘he’ was, then his name slipped out of caters mouth — “i’m sure chenya likes you, think positive!!”

—> for once in chenyas life he though HE was the one being pranked, i mean you both are best friends he’s sure you can probably detect him anyway, it just seems like a funny joke right! someone must of found out he had a crush on you and told him—

“cater i’m not joking, i really don’t think chenya likes me”

—> after this chenya left the party altogether, both stunned and wanting to plan something.

—> when you get back to ramshackle you are surprised to see a letter on your bed along with some snacks, as you started reading it, a bouquet appeared and then chenya did too, for once in his life he looked clumsy, he held them out to you, “riddle said you like em.”

𑣲.ᐟ

—> after that, you both did infact start dating. what a surprise it’s not like he knew you were going to say yes or anything…

—> i feel like behind all of Chenyas jokes and pranks he’s actually romantic, or aspires to be at the least he just needs to cut out most of the pranks.

—> he’s not quiet about how much he loves you, he’s so inlove he looks like a madman talking to everyone at RSA,

“yeha i have a partner!!~” “we know!”

“i love them” “we know..”

“they are pretty damn cool” “you have said, i would love to meet them!”

—> everyone knows about you, even if you have never once heard their name or met them, oh trust me they know.

—> he loves to listen to you talk, you ever wanna rant about something absolutely useless? don’t worry he’s all ears (reference)

—> he absolutely loves to be around you without you knowing just so he can hear you praise him, what? you don’t say it to him much, in your defence you know it will make him more smug then ever.

—> after that, once you have stopped he just appears beside you, that smug grin on his face as he shuts his eyes, his hands placed on his hips, “wowww~ i am amazing huh?” he does this just to see you get flustered and stroppy.

—> adding onto that i think he adores you when you get mad at him, he’s not taking any of it seriously just nodding while you are madder then ever at him, it could be worse he could be smiling straight in your face.

—> he finds enjoyment in sneaking you into RSA aswell, you don’t know it but while your laughing at the whole thing and trying to remain quiet everyone knows your there, he couldn’t keep it a secret from anyone.

—> i think he would also get really defensive about you, especially since he’s not around you as much due to the massive difference between RSA and NRC, so if anyone talks about you and he takes it the wrong way he’s heading right back over to you to complain about how pathetic that whole thing was.

ִ › ⦂ masterlist here — requests are still open

You whisper that he’s warm, that his hugs are nice, and he notices how you cherish every last bit of his affection before he absolutely has to slip away. He often finds himself running his fingers down your arms and across your scalp, hoping to soothe you so he can have the chance to hug you again.

You may think he’s warm, but he knows he’s got nothing on you.

Which is why it’s so painful when you two have to part.

He doesn’t like slipping out of your arms, mind you. Your furrowed brow and small frown of disappointment make him just as disappointed that he had to leave you.

“You don’t have to hesitate, you know.” he hums, tail swishing back and forth.

Your fingers pause against the textbook, your shoulders bunching up around your neck like stone walls guarding a castle.

“What do you mean?” you ask, even though you know exactly what he means.

“When you touch me. When I touch you.” Chenya says, flipping upside down with a wide grin stretched across his face, “You hesitate every single time.”

Your eyes dart towards the floor, farther away from him. Chenya’s eyes drop to your lips, where your teeth are digging into the flesh.

“Why are you nervous?” he teases, slinking up to you, “It’s just me.”

He knows why.

You jump when Chenya wraps his tail around your wrist, dragging your hand towards him. He intertwines your fingers and captures your gaze, practically forcing you to look at him.

“I’ll touch you as often as you want.” he chuckles, tilting his head, “So don’t worry about it, okay?”

The first time you met Che’nya, you didn’t quite know what to make of him. He was… a lot.

Extravagant in the way he carried himself, all loose limbs and careless posture he was cheerful in a way that felt just a little too sharp to be innocent, his laughter always following right after someone else’s startled yelp with a cheshire grin plastered on his face.

Che'nya always seemed to absolutely make only his head visible in midair just to watch Ace and Deuce scream like their lives depended on it… which, unfortunately, you had witnessed firsthand. At first, you thought he was just another nuisance from NRC but when figuring out he was from RSA it was quite a shock.

A Royal Sword Academy student wandering into Night Raven College territory like he didn’t have a care in the world like there weren’t students here who would gladly pick a fight with him just for existing. Yet Che’nya never seemed bothered. He came and went as he pleased, slipping into Heartslabyul’s grounds to visit Trey and Riddle… though, more often than not, you noticed his attention drifting elsewhere all the way towards you.

It started small with his interactions with you. A grin tossed your way from across the heartslabyul rose maze, a flick of his tail brushing past you when he “just happened” to walk by. Then it turned into stolen items, your pen, your notes, once even your blazer only for them to reappear in the most inconvenient places possible. A tree branch. The top of a hedge. The back of a chair you swore you checked already and every single time, he’d be watching his Golden eyes glinting a smile wide while staring at you... It was annoying but you never told him to stop

The rose maze of Heartslabyul was quiet that afternoon, save for the faint rustle of leaves and the lingering scent of freshly painted roses in the air. You had found a rare moment of peace, tucked away from the chaos of the dorm.

Che’nya, however, had other plans. He wandered through the maze with no real destination, hands tucked behind his head as his sharp eyes scanned the hedges lazily until they landed on you.

There you were, and just like that, his grin stretched wider back to the familiar Cheshire grin and without a sound, his form began to fade, first his legs, then his torso, until only the faint shimmer of his presence lingered in the air. The unique magic he used often… one that made him nearly impossible to track when he didn’t want to be seen.

You didn’t notice him not until you felt air blow against your neck as you squeaked, “Hello every nyan, how are you?” You flinched, startled at the sudden voice right by your ear, your head snapping up just as a tail brushed lightly against your arm. Before you could react, his face appeared far too close to yours, eyes gleaming with amusement “Fine, thank you,” he added for you, answering his own question with a soft cackle.

You groaned, shoving his face away. “Che’nya!” He laughed, the sound light and teasing as his body flickered back into view only to vanish again the moment your hand made contact. A second later, he reappeared a few steps away, lounging across a nearby bench like he’d been there the entire time “I didn’t scare you, did I?” he asked, tilting his head.

The smirk on his face made it obvious he didn’t care about the answer. You sighed, walking over anyway and sitting beside him. That, apparently, was an invitation enough because he immediately stretched out, tossing his legs across your lap like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Hey!” “Hmm?” he hummed, completely unbothered as he crossed his arms behind his head, eyes never leaving yours. “Why don’t ya come a little closer?” You shoved his legs off with a scoff, but he only laughed, sitting up just enough to lean against you instead his head resting on your shoulder like he belonged there.

“I’ll behave,” he murmured, voice dripping with playful insincerity. “Unless, of course, you tempt me not to.” “…You’re insufferable.” “And yet, you keep letting me stay,” he shot back instantly. His tail curled against your side, lingering this time longer, softer

“Those two first years aren’t around, are they?” he asked after a moment, his tone light but curious. You raised a brow. “Ace and Deuce?” “Mm.” His ears twitched. “They’re fun to scare… but they interrupt.” Interrupt..? You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “They’re not here.” “Good,” he said simply there was no joke in that one.

For once, he seemed content just sitting there, no disappearing act, no sudden pranks. Just you and him on the bench, the maze stretching endlessly around you. It didn’t last long as he grinned “Hey…” he started, nudging you slightly. “Wanna come to RSA?” You blinked. “What?” “There’s a festival going on,” he continued, flicking his tail up to brush your face earning a quick swat in return. “Thought it’d be fun.” You eyed him suspiciously. “…You paying?” He snorted. “Who said I was paying?” You laughed despite yourself, shaking your head before sighing. “You know what? Fine. After everything lately… I don’t mind hanging out with you.”

Che’nya paused as his ears twitched, his grin softening “See?” he said, leaning in slightly. “Told you I could be very purrsuasive.” You groaned. “That was terrible.” “It was purrfect- hey!”He yelped as you grabbed his ear, tugging lightly. He laughed, trying to pry your hand away, and for a brief moment, there was no trick, no illusion just the two of you, laughing like it was easy.

“LOOK, THAT CAT’S BACK!” Che’nya’s grin snapped back into place instantly “Ah… duty calls,” he mused, already fading. “See ya later, nyah~” as he grinned, vanishing your hand, gripping the fabric of your pants, staring at the empty space beside you.

The festival at Royal Sword Academy was… different. Brighter. Lighter. The atmosphere lacked the sharp edge that NRC carried so naturally. It should’ve felt welcoming yet it felt unfamiliar.

You barely had time to adjust to the scenery as a voice spoke “There you are.” Che’nya appeared right in front of you, as if pulled from thin air, his arm slinging easily over your shoulders “C’mon,” he grinned. “Let’s go.” and just like that, the unease faded.

The day blurred into motion, wandering between stalls, laughter slipping more easily with every passing moment. He dragged you onto rides without warning, disappeared only to reappear with snacks in hand, and at some point, convinced you to get matching keychains two cats with their tails forming a heart when connected.

He insisted on carrying his, and you didn’t question it. At another stall, you bought him a ridiculous hairclip, one that didn’t match anything he wore. He immediately put it on anyway, mimicking your expression so perfectly that you couldn’t help but laugh.

It was… nice with Che'nya by the time you stopped at a cotton candy stall, the sky had melted into soft streaks of gold and blush pink, the kind of sunset that made everything feel slower, warmer. You had barely taken a bite when it vanished from your grasp “Yoink.” The word came with the sudden lightness of your hand as Che’nya leaned in far too casually, already chewing on your cotton candy like it belonged to him.

“Che’nya!” you snapped, turning to him in disbelief, only to be met with that infuriating smirk, his golden eyes glinting. “What? Sharing is caring,” he teased, voice lilting with amusement. “Oh, really?” you shot back, not missing a beat as you snatched his and took an exaggerated bite, earning a surprised huff that quickly turned into laughter. What followed was less of a fight and more of a challenge petty, playful, and completely unserious as the two of you stole bites back and forth, laughter slipping between every mock complaint, sugar clinging to your fingers as the moment unraveled into something soft and unguarded.

Somewhere in the middle of it, your hands brushed then lingered. Neither of you acknowledged it, nor did you move away. When the laughter finally quieted, Che’nya glanced at you, something gentler settling behind his usual mischief, his grin no longer sharp but quietly fond, like he’d found something he didn’t quite want to let go of.

His tail curled lightly around your wrist, absentminded, almost instinctive, and this time, when the moment stretched on in comfortable silence, he didn’t vanish, didn’t tease or run. He just stayed, right there beside you, like that was exactly where he meant to be.