Mirai returns to the Darry Inn, well into the night.

Concealing her ears with a scarf, her tail hidden beneath her long skirt, she hands three copper coins to the innkeeper, bowing, as the innkeeper waves her away without a second glance.

“Mirai, you’re back!” Nozomi perks up from under the covers and shouts as the candlelight from the hallway bleeds into the bedroom.

Whispering back, “I’m home!” Mirai puts her finger to her lips. Creaks carry through the thin walls, the tenant next door turning in their sleep.

Nozomi brings both hands to her mouth, wearing wide guilty eyes reflecting the light from the hallway.

It is a small room, with a single bed, a scratchy blanket, and a crooked window that only lets light shine through for a few minutes during sunset.

A bucket of water and a plate licked clean, save a piece of bread and bite of meat carefully shuffled to one side, sits on the floor by the bed.

Mirai moves to light a candle nearing the end of its wick and sat, placing her hand on Nozomi’s head, smiling. Closing her eyes, she lets out a deep sigh as if all that was wrong in the world melted away.

Nozomi tugs at her shirt. “Welcome home, Mirai! Did you work hard today? Did you eat? You look hungry.”

Reaching for the plate on the floor, Nozomi nearly falls off the bed.

“I saved you some leftovers that I couldn’t finish, so please eat it!” She holds the plate forward with both hands, her head lowered and eyes cast downward.

Mirai scans over the girl’s pale face and her thin human body. There isn't a chance that this small girl’s stomach isn't pleading with her for food throughout the long days she spent alone, Mirai thinks, berating herself.

Even so. Night after night, she would always save a portion of her dinner from the inn for Mirai.

Mirai’s day work paid for 3 copper cost of their room at the inn, but it wasn't enough to cover their food. She earned a paltry sum under a tail's wage, so she was forced to find other means to support the young child.

Nozomi spent her days alone in the Inn. But she never complained.

The two barely got to spend time with each other, other than for brief, precious moments like this.

Nozomi’s eyes pierce expectantly.

“Sweet, sweet girl.” Mirai picks up the piece of bread, nibbles a small corner before moving it to Nozomi’s mouth.

Then came defeat.

“Ahh,” Mirai demands, opening her mouth in demonstration.

The face of devastation befalls Nozomi, her certain success pulled out from under her all at once. She resists defiantly, but as Mirai’s smile only softens at that, she concedes and accepts the final two bites of her meal.

Already halfway 'til morning, Nozomi is quick to tire again, falling back beneath the blanket.

Mirai washes her face from the pale and climbs into bed, wrapping her tail over Nozomi.

“Sis, can we stay together?” Nozomi murmurs half asleep, as she hugs Mirai’s tail closer. “Forever...I like it...here...” Her voice trails off and breathing falls into a steady rhythm.

Mirai presses her forehead to Nozomi’s as she stroked the child’s soft lilac hair, and falls into a peaceful sleep, a smile on her face, unburdened by the hunger or worries that she carried.

She too was happy—happier than she had ever been.

Now that Nozomi was free.