Bright lights, excited screams, and way too many pastel colors. Akemi Inoue sat behind a glossy autograph table, pen in hand, and smile 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 faster.
And then, 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?".