Tonight, I use the typewriter Lady Kimiyo set up by my bed.
We need to settle the question of Lady Ayano’s healing constitution.
Her paws fly across the keys, a furious clatter filling the room as she types out her theory. The machine hamrs away—clack clack clack clack—before a sharp ding cuts the noise.
[We were wrong, Ikaku. My transformation magic let beco a fluffy cat, a perfect copy of Mikaela. So I assud I’d taken his form and gotten stuck. But that doesn’t explain the healing constitution, the Angel’s nto.
There’s only one way this makes sense. We have to accept that this isn’t a copy. This is Mikaela’s body, which ans I, Ayano Akai, am inside it.]
So that’s the shape of it.
[Think about it. Body and soul. If I’m in here, it ans my real body is out there sowhere, with Mikaela’s soul inside it.]
Tears well in her eyes as she keeps typing.
[There’s a good chance my body is running around on all fours, digging holes in the ground to relieve itself! I doubt it’s even wearing clothes! Cats don’t wear clothes! Aaaaaah! Ikakuuuu! You have to find ! Find before this gets any worse!]
“I… see.”
[Don’t give up on ! You’re the only one I can count on, Ikaku!]
“But Milady, why did this happen? Why did you and Mikaela switch?”
[I don’t know. My mory of that night. The fire, the ruin… it’s all smoke. That I can’t rember… it has to an sothing terrible happened.]
The typing stops. Her paw rests on the keys, motionless.
A tremor runs through her fluffy foreleg.
Anger? Grief? A storm rages in that tiny body.
Then, her paw moves again.
Clack clack clack—ding.
[The truth is locked inside my own head, and I can’t find the key. I feel pathetic. You overco everything, Ikaku. You make the impossible look like just another rep. And ? I’m stuck.]
“You’ve done more than enough, Lady Ayano. You saved Lady Ophelia and . We’d both be dead without you.”
[You’re too kind, Ikaku. Always. I’ve always leaned on your kindness. Now I’m depending completely on your strength. You’re always the one getting wounded, bleeding for this. I want to do sothing, anything, to help us find the Seekers of the Deep, even if we don’t know who or where they are.]
Her will is iron. But she’s still a cat. What can she do?
After a mont of silence, the clatter starts again.
[Let's go back to the estate once you've recovered. I was in a panic after the fire, but now that I've accepted this, maybe I can rember sothing.]
“…Alright then. We will.”
I have my doubts… but she’s strong. She can handle the pain. She can face whatever’s waiting for her.
I choose to trust my master’s strength.
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