The soft click of the car door echoed through the quiet morning as Raito settled into the driver's seat. Emi was strapped securely against his chest in a dark gray baby carrier, her tiny hands clinging onto his shirt as she looked around with wide-eyed curiosity. The carrier was simple and inconspicuous, blending well with his usual attire. Despite everything, he wore it like it was the most natural thing in the world.
The engine started with a low purr, and Raito pulled out of the driveway. The road ahead was empty, the early hour giving them a peaceful start. But inside the car, Raito's quiet anticipation was mounting. His hands gripped the steering wheel with more intent than usual, and his expression, while calm, carried a subtle sharpness.
Kurai's voice slithered into his thoughts almost immediately. I can't believe you're actually doing this. A grown man dragging a baby into a convention about pink-colored cats and singing stars. You've hit a new low, Raito.
Raito didn't respond. He adjusted the rearview mirror slightly and kept driving, ignoring the familiar snark like one might ignore the buzz of a distant fly. His focus was elsewhere—on the promise of the day.
This place is going to be swarming with squealing kids, sugar-hyped teens, and obsessive fanatics, Kurai continued. You really think this is worth all the effort?
Still, Raito gave no answer. Emi babbled softly against his chest, clutching at the strap of the carrier. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, not at Kurai, but at the small warmth nestled close to him because she was his golden ticket to the con.
He pulled into the parking lot, the massive building ahead already buzzing with early arrivals. Vibrant banners of the Kawai Kitty characters hung from the entrance, and music from the show played faintly over loudspeakers. He parked the car, stepped out, and took a long breath.
Kurai scoffed in his mind. You're not seriously getting emotional over this, are you?
Raito stepped toward the entrance, the weight of Emi grounding him as he adjusted the strap of the carrier. He ignored the stares of other early attendees—mostly parents and excitable kids. If they had opinions about a young man like him walking in with a baby, none of them voiced it.
Then, as he crossed through the doors into the convention hall, something in him shifted.
His eyes scanned the rows of booths, displays, and limited-edition exclusives. Familiar faces from the show beamed down at him from oversized banners. The air was electric with excitement and nostalgia.
A new expression settled over his face—not one of giddiness or childish joy, but of calm, focused determination.
"I'm going to get everything here," Raito muttered under his breath, almost to himself.
Kurai sighed. Great. The stoic antihero becomes the ultimate Kawai Kitty collector. What a twist, just wake me up after your done.
Raito's eyes narrowed with resolve as he moved forward, the soft weight of Emi bouncing slightly with each step.
Let the games begin.
The lights begin brighten as Raito steps deeper into the convention floor, his footsteps steady, his expression unreadable—except for the rare glint of excitement in his eyes.
---
Akemi Inoue sat behind a glossy autograph table, pen in hand, and wore a smile that was perfectly practiced. To her left, a towering cardboard cutout of Kawai Kitty stood waving a paw, while cameras flashed in the distance. She maintained her sweet expression as another hyperventilating fan handed over a Kawai Kitty plush for her to sign.
"Oh my gosh, Akemi-chan! I've been watching since I was ten!" the girl squealed, practically vibrating.
Akemi giggled softly and tilted her head. "That makes me so happy to hear! I hope Kawai Kitty has been bringing you smiles all these years."
Smile. Sign. Compliment. Repeat.
She'd been doing this routine since ten that morning, and if she had to say "Stay purr-sitive!" one more time, she might scream.
Internally, she sighed. I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for the payout.
Her parents had practically begged her to attend this year's Kawai Kitty Con. The event had offered a substantial sum for her appearance—their way of boosting ticket sales by parading her around like the franchise's crown jewel. And they weren't wrong. The line stretched through the convention hall, filled with fans eager to meet "the original voice of Kawai Kitty." It was exhausting, but she'd grin through it. Fame had its price.
What amused her most, however, were the men. Grown adults pulling stunts—some pretending to drop things, others dressing up in matching character onesies—just to catch her attention. One guy even recited Kawai Kitty's catchphrases in full character voice, cracking his voice midway. She didn't break character, of course. She kept smiling, batting her lashes and signing whatever they put in front of her.
Pathetic, she thought behind her smile. But hey, it made the time pass more quickly.
And that's when, she saw him.
Further down the line, a tall man with striking eyes and an unreadable expression stood out. Not because of his face—though it wasn't bad—but because he had a baby strapped to his chest. A real baby. Not a doll, not a prop. An actual baby.
She nearly laughed out loud. Oh, wow. We're using babies now?
Still, she couldn't deny the guy had a cool aura about him. Quiet. Controlled. The way he held the baby—what was that carrier called again? Those dad pouch things—looked oddly natural.
When it was finally his turn, she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and tilted her head, giving him her best warm smile.
"Hi there! What's your name?" she asked sweetly.
The man said nothing. He simply handed over a limited edition Kawai Kitty art print.
Her smile twitched, slightly strained now. Still nothing from him. Not even a "big fan" or "my kid loves you." Weird.
She glanced down and scrawled her signature across the print. "There we go. All done!" she said brightly, sliding it back.
That's when he finally spoke.
"You wrote the wrong name."
She blinked, lips parting. "Excuse me?"
He gestured to the print. "That's not Kawai Kitty's signature. That's yours."
She stared at him for a second before her smile returned, a touch more smug. "Well, I am Kawai Kitty. That's how it's spelled, promise."
He didn't even flinch. "I'm not here for your signature."
Akemi's brain short-circuited for half a second.
"What?"
"I want Kawai Kitty's autograph. Not Akemi Inoue's," he said plainly.
She blinked at him, stunned. Not flustered. Not playing dumb. Not flirting. Just… unbothered and direct.
For the first time in a long time, she felt her carefully crafted pedestal shake a little.
"Uh…" she said, grabbing a second copy of the print. "Fine."
She scribbled again—this time using the stylized signature the studio printed for the Kawai Kitty fan letters—and handed it back, lips tight in a fake smile.
"Here you go," she said.
"Thanks," he replied calmly, nodding once. Then he turned and walked off, baby cooing softly on his chest, completely unbothered.
Akemi stared after him, stunned.
The assistant beside her leaned in. "That was weird, huh? Did he say something rude?"
She shook her head slowly. "No, he just…"
Her gaze stayed fixed on his retreating figure. He didn't care at all. Not about her looks, her fame, or the image she spent so long perfecting. He didn't even spare her a second glance. He just wanted what he came for and left.
And somehow, that stung more than it should've.
She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. For once, she wasn't thinking about the next autograph or compliment. She was still wondering about that guy with the baby.
"…Who was that?".