"You turned Kyoko into a Magical Girl who can't become a Witch. What a waste—she was just one step away from turning."
Kyubey sat atop Xiaobai's head, addressing Yimi.
"What are you planning to do next? There are so many Magical Girls in the world. Surely you're not going to convert all of them?"
Yimi waved it off and pulled out a tissue to gently wipe Xiaobai down.
Every day after enough activity, Xiaobai had to return to its bed—the charging dock—to rest. Tomohisa would even regularly clean out its droppings, which was to say the compacted clump of garbage in its dustbin.
"Yimi, you need to get up early today. Don't forget what day it is."
A yawning Madoka pushed open her door and glanced at the little cat, still in pajamas.
"Oh, Kyubey's here too."
But the moment her eyes landed on Kyubey, her expression visibly stiffened. She couldn't forget what Homura had told her—the price Magical Girls paid when they contracted with Kyubey.
Kyubey's pink bead-like eyes fixed on Madoka, unblinking. "This girl really would be perfect as a Magical Girl."
"What day?"
"It's the first day of school, orientation day." Tomohisa poked his head around the corner, apron still on. "Want to try a different hairstyle today?"
"School?"
"We talked about this when we went out before, remember? I enrolled you in first grade. That should be fine, right?"
Tomohisa walked over and pressed down on the cowlick sticking up from Yimi's hair. The stubborn tuft refused to cooperate.
He pressed again. In the mirror, the little cat saw what he was doing and simply transferred the cowlick's misfortune elsewhere—and from Madoka's perspective, the moment Yimi's hair flattened, her father's hair popped right up instead.
Muggle matters. Best not to get involved.
After this futile exercise, Tomohisa placed a cat-shaped hat on Yimi's head—thinner than the cotton cap she used to wear—rendering his entire effort pointless.
He'd already informed the school about the situation. He just hoped this child wouldn't get bullied. Setting aside the hidden ears and tail, a cute, delicate little girl was already a prime bullying target on her own.
As for first grade—when he'd asked, it turned out Yimi had only ever attended two days of school in her life.
Learning that, even the mild-tempered Tomohisa couldn't help but feel a flicker of anger. Counting from when they'd first met Yimi, the school term was nearly over. He couldn't imagine what kind of people her birth family must have been.
First grade and second grade were only a year apart, but fundamentally different worlds. First-graders were still bewildered little things who hadn't figured out what school even was. Some of them still treated it like kindergarten, expecting the teacher to tie their shoes for them.
"Xiaobai." Yimi reached toward the robot vacuum, flexing her fingers.
"All right, leave it alone. I'll feed it on schedule." Tomohisa scooped her up and carried her out.
"Mm."
The little cat noticed something.
This "school" thing seemed to be something all humans had to go through. In most of the worlds she'd traveled to, she'd seen people attending school. It was through school that humans learned the knowledge that made them more capable than cats.
But Yimi's quest was already more than half done. She might have to leave at any moment.
She looked up at Tomohisa.
He misread her expression as nervousness about school and smiled encouragingly, heading out with her and Tatsuya, who was off to kindergarten.
"Do your best, okay? If anyone bullies you, tell the teacher. Or just go straight to the booth at the school gate and call the man there. He might not look like much normally, but he's pretty fierce when it counts." Junko performed the family's daily goodbye kiss ritual, planting one on Yimi's forehead too.
"'Fierce' is hardly the word for me!"
...
Tomohisa and Junko didn't know that the little cat would be leaving. They seemed to think life would just keep flowing along smoothly like this.
It wasn't a major issue—once Yimi had saved up enough energy, she could return to any world she'd visited at any time, and the gap in time wouldn't be too long.
It was just that leaving without a word felt a little impolite. But for the sake of efficiency in getting home, she'd already said goodbye to several worlds this way.
"Yimi, that's not how you hold a pen. Like this."
The homeroom teacher, who'd been briefed on the situation, leaned down and corrected Yimi's grip—from a full-fist clench to a normal hold.
Human fingers were flexible, sure, but the things they had to learn were such a hassle. Back home, she'd watched Grandma's fingers fly across a sea of buttons she couldn't begin to comprehend—a keyboard—without even looking at them.
"Very good. Next period, try writing the characters the teacher showed you holding it that way, okay?"
...
Then came next period, and Yimi—her mind having wandered to the quest—stood up mid-class and walked toward the door.
"Yimi, you can't just get up and wander around during class!"
This school thing even restricted a cat's freedom!
Yimi sat there sulking over her life as a cat.
These kids her age had to go to school. Girls Origami's age had to go to school. Madoka had to go to school. Why did humans spend so much time on this sort of thing?
While she was pondering, someone tugged at her hat from behind. She turned—just in time to see a boy pretending to watch the teacher.
She faced forward again.
Another tug. She turned. Same boy, same fake-attentive pose. She turned back. Tug.
This time the System helpfully pulled up a vocabulary list without being asked.
Yimi pointed at him and read aloud from the list: "You little punk, you wanna die...?"
Said at full, unfiltered volume, leaving the teacher at the lectern slack-jawed.
...
"The teacher says you didn't get along too well with your classmates on day one." Tomohisa sighed, walking Yimi home by the hand.
Apparently it was quite profane.
Still, he had no intention of scolding her.
Genetics might predetermine some aspects of personality, but a child was like a blank canvas, easily stained. The Yimi in his eyes was absolutely a good kid—but where she'd picked up those words was something he'd rather not think too hard about.
Well-behaved and innocent at home, but with a past like hers, it was only natural she'd developed some thorns for self-defense.
"Tomohisa."
"Please don't call me by my first name. At least try 'Uncle'?"
"Why do, humans have to, go to school?"
"What a surprising question. Because that's how humans survive, I suppose?" Tomohisa looked up, searching for an answer suitable for a child.
"So you can have a better future. Find a better job. Improve your quality of life..."
"Ahhh! Shift's over! Screw your job!" Right on cue, an office worker at the bus stop let out a magnificent scream.
Tomohisa quickly pulled Yimi away from that direction.
"Or more precisely, that's just how the world works."
He patted Yimi's head. "I know saying this might put pressure on you, but I really do hope you can study hard and grow up to become an accomplished woman like your mo—like your aunt."
"Mm..." Yimi looked up at Tomohisa. "In a little while, I might have to go."