Oof, this one is LATE. Completely slipped my mind, though I'm bound to forget at least a few around this holiday season. Well, that means two chapters almost back-to-back. And hey, only around 6 chapters to go, so we're rounding off soon!
Thank you so much for the continued support, and thanks again to Ryu_no_me for the beta-reading!

The first day back was a whirlwind of catching up. The team had made progress, but there was still much to go. Material integrity throughout the printing process remained one of the largest challenges, which they brainstormed actively for hours on end. The whiteboard saw dozens of generations of notes, written and erased time and time again, the cake gradually disappearing until there was nothing on the plate but a knife and crumbs. Lunch came and went, the sun reached the top of its trajectory before descending once again, and they kept working up until the point that Luka received a text from her father, telling her that he had come to pick her up. She excused herself, encouraging the rest of the team to keep working. She would be back the next day, after all, and would review their notes online in the meantime, and dot down a few questions. Soon, the project would be sailing smoothly once again.

At least, that's what she promised. Once she got in the car, she almost collapsed on herself.

"How was your day?" her father asked, his voice warm and sweet. There was a note of concern there, though, a note that hadn't gone away since her return.

"Exhausting," she said, already feeling her eyes drift shut. "I don't know how I did this all day, every day..."

"I imagine there was less to do when you were a cat?"

"That's an understatement." She chuckled. "A nice and lazy, cozy life."

He glanced at her. "Are you glad to be back?"

"More than I can say, dad. More than I can say."

She didn't review her notes that evening. Once home, she went over her exercises before dinner, then went to sleep right after eating. The next morning, she was awake before her alarm, so she took the extra time to go over the notes, to write down a few questions for her team, all as promised, before hobbling downstairs for breakfast.

"Good morning!" her mother welcomed her. "How are you feeling today?"

"Everything hurts," she admitted with a chuckle. "Work is a lot more demanding than I thought."

Her father grinned. "All the more reason to keep it up!"

"For sure," She let herself fall into her chair, heaving a sigh. "The facility is so much bigger than I remembered. It's much more practice than I otherwise get."

"Good, good," her mother said, setting down tea before her. Luka wrapped her hands around the mug, still a little surprised at how long her fingers were. "You seem to be speaking with a little more ease this morning."

"Walking, too!" her husband chimed in.

"I'm getting there," Luka whispered.

"Perhaps I should take you to practice driving this afternoon, after work?" he suggested.

His wife tutted. "Oh no, dear. The weekend would be better, when she's not so tired."

"Fair, fair."

Luka looked up from her mug. "I'll do my best to get driving. I know that the commute—"

"Don't worry about it," he said, waving her concern away. "We're happy to help for as long as you need."

"We'll hold your hand until you can run," her mother chimed in. "So take all your time walking until you get there."

Luka gulped. The cane waited next to her. "I might get there soon."

"Why don't you give it a try?"

She looked up at her mother, then at the kitchen counter.

As she considered the offer, her father stood. "We'll catch you if you fall."

Luka smiled, standing slowly, hands firmly grasping the back of her chair. With her mother to her left, and her father to her right, she took one small step, then another, before she released the chair.

She wobbled, hands reached out to her, but after some deep breathing, she stood still, stable. Luka took another step, still wobbling a bit, then another, with more confidence.

"There we go!" her father cheered, his hands already lowering. "You got this!"

Luka chuckled, resting her hands on the counter when she reached it. "That was a lot harder than it had any right to be."

"But you did it," her mother reminded her, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Every day brings a little progress."

"Going back to work has definitely helped you," her father said with a nod. "Maybe it's time to slowly let the cane go?"

Luka blinked, eyes darting back to the cane. "Maybe... In my office, I could try a little."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. My office feels like home. I feel almost normal there. At least until someone asks me a question," she laughed, resting more heavily on the counter. Her legs were so tired.

"Maybe you could leave the cane here?" he asked.

Her smile fell.

She heard her mother say, "Oh, I don't think that's entirely wise."

"Why not? It's all the more reason to give her all! She barely needs it!"

"I'll need it," she admitted.

"See? She can barely hobble to the counter," her mother said, rubbing her daughter's back. "Let's not get too optimistic!"

"It's..." Luka gulped. "I feel confident, thinking about walking in my office. I'm a little tired, but I could do it. But..."

Her parents' cheer dimmed somewhat.

"What is it?"

She shook her head, slowly returning to her seat, falling in it cautiously. "I agreed to speak to Ms. Hatsune today, at noon."

"Oh!" His smile returned, only to fall again. "Is that bad?"

"It's not bad. I had been hoping to speak with her. I think." Luka gulped, wrapped her hands around the mug again. "But while I was living with her, I wouldn't reach her knee standing up. She was so, so tall."

Her parents waited.

"When I saw her yesterday, I suddenly felt very tall. Too big. I was taller than her. My legs were so long. I was stretched, longer than any person could be." She sighed. "Around her, I will need to be a bit more careful."

"That's not good," her mother whispered. "You should postpone this meeting. I'm sure she'll understand."

"I'd rather not."

"Oh."

"There's a lot for us to say. Or... There is a lot I wish to tell her."

"We understand," he said. "When we spoke, she showed a lot of worry for you. I'm sure she wants to tell you things as well. Delaying it won't help."

"I guess not."

"Now, I'll make you breakfast today, darling," her mother said. "Get your rest, get your things in order. You two have to go in an hour."

"Ok. Thanks..."

Her mother patted her shoulder, wordlessly assuring her it would be alright. Before Luka could get too lost in her thoughts, her father sat back down next to her, resting his elbows on the table.

"You're nervous," he said.

"I am."

He nodded slowly, methodically wringing his hands. "I'm sure she doesn't resent you."

"Resent...?"

"You talk about her as if she's about to berate you. Like a teacher who would discover you hadn't done your homework."

Luka chuckled, but the joy didn't quite reach her eyes. "Oh. Maybe."

"Why do you feel like that?"

"Because I can't imagine how I would feel if I were in her place. If she knew what I'd done and why."

He shrugged, his hands still tightly knit. "I'm sure she would understand that you didn't have the luxury of many choices."

"Perhaps. But lack of choice or not, I was..." She glanced at her father. "I missed people. I missed you. I took advantage of the love she showed me to fill that."

Her mother said, "Is that so bad? It's fine to want company."

"But I was using her as a stand-in, at least... At least for a large part," she admitted.

"You're assuming she knows this," he said.

"I'm... I'm not sure what other conclusion she could draw. My behavior was strange, even for a cat. They commented on it dozens of times."

His hands separated, one of them resting on hers; they had been tied into a knot of their own.

"I think one of the first things you two will need to do is to clear up all the assumptions," he said. "You have no idea how you would react if you had been in her place. I'm willing to bet she's saying the same thing to her parents."

Luka felt a stone sink in her gut, but she nodded. "Right."

"It doesn't help that how you would react, what you would think, isn't necessarily what she would think. Everybody is different, no? So, try to approach her with as few assumptions as possible. Listen to what she says. Ask. And make sure she's not filling in any holes for you, either."

"Right."

A bowl of tuna salad was placed in front of her. "It'll be alright, dear," her mother said, her hands on her shoulders. "Just take things one step at a time."

"Just like earlier! Slow and steady wins the race." He smiled for her, but there was still that note of concern. "Don't feel like you have to clear the air in a single conversation, either. If you want to, she can come over and you two can chat here, so you can have more time. Who knows how long she has on her lunch breaks."

"Or perhaps at your own home," her mother added. "So you can have some privacy."

"Yeah."

Luka gulped, unsure how she wanted to imagine inviting Miku to her home. She quietly shelved that idea for later.

"You're right," she said. "I'll see how it goes today."

"I have no reason to imagine it going poorly," her mother said, a smile obvious in her voice. "She's such a sweet girl."

Luka couldn't help but smile as well. "She is."

Until the moment she decided to go downstairs to the cafeteria, Luka thought about their meeting all day. During the drive to work, while she smiled and nodded at everything her father said, during the elevator trip up past the ground floor, while she asked questions and got answers during another catch-up session with her team, and even in the last half-hour, sat in her office, watching the clock. There was material to review, she could even practice pacing in her office without her cane, do some more speech therapy. She could call in any of her co-workers and ask more questions, or even start brainstorming herself.

But no. She was as anxious for the meeting as she had been for her first ever date, her first job interview, while waiting for exam results, the verdict of her PhD defense. When she finally decided to just go to the cafeteria early, perhaps grab something to eat before Miku arrived, Aria knocked on her door.

"How can I help?" she asked the postdoc, already standing, her cane in hand.

"I was wondering if we could talk about something before your meeting with Ms. Hatsune, but it looks like you're leaving."

Luka smiled, feigning nonchalance. "I'm not entirely sure how long it'll take me to get there."

"I understand. Would you like a hand?"

"I should be fine, thank you." She cleared her throat. "What did you want to talk about?"

"You had asked a question earlier that we hadn't been able to answer in a satisfying way. I crunched the numbers, so we have a clearer answer and better statistics going forward, but I wanted to go over my process with you; I've never done this before and I'm not sure I used the right method."

Luka considered reaching out, accepting the small stack of papers. But that meant clearing both hands, putting her cane to the side, potentially even sitting down, and there she would stay for who knew how long.

Instead, she bowed her head apologetically. "I'll take a look after my meeting, if that's alright. With any luck, I'll be more clear-minded, too."

"Of course." Aria lingered for a while in the doorway though, before blurting, "I hope everything is alright?"

"How so?"

"Well... We all know very little. There's the news. There's some rumors, of course. Miku brought a cat into the lab, before everyone was told to go home..." She cleared her throat. "That was you, wasn't it? With what you said yesterday..."

"It was. And Ms. Hatsune hadn't brought me here. I'd snuck into her bag."

"Ah." After some hesitation, she whispered, "I know you said you owe her, but did she... She kept you captive?"

Luka frowned. "It's a story I'm not ready to tell yet. I understand some of the others came forward and shared their own stories, and I understand that otherwise, very little information has been made public. It is confusing, and frustrating, but I'll talk openly about it when I am ready."

"Of course, of course." Aria's eyes were downcast. "I'm sorry. I was just worried."

"I thank you for your concern," Luka whispered, approaching the door. "And I'll be sure to tell you when I need help. In the meantime, I need to find my own closure."

"I understand."

The researcher sighed, but she smiled at the postdoc. "Don't worry. I have plenty of help and support. And I'm lucky that I can count on your help when I need it. I won't forget it."

Finally, Aria smiled back. "Very well. Good luck on your meeting."

"Thank you. I'll be back soon, and we'll look at those numbers, ok?"

After a small wave and another wish of good luck, Luka was left to wander the halls alone. The added noise of her cane was the only flaw in an otherwise complete return to norm, at least from an outside perspective. She still kept her head high, smiling at co-workers of all kinds, recognizing the acronyms and the posters that never changed, the sights out the window and the pale shadows on the floor. Except for that single detail, everything was alright, as it used to be. Luka even took the stairs, if just a bit slower than before, but she never stopped by a map, she never hesitated about her direction.

The only other difference with how it was before was entirely in her mind: she was unreasonably anxious. Sure, one could also say that she took the stairs not because she couldn't be bothered to wait for the elevator, which was her reason once, but because she intended to practice walking as much as possible. Otherwise she was simply more anxious than she had ever been, walking those halls. She didn't let it slow her down, striding towards the cafeteria with all the confidence she could muster, but her empty hand was stuffed in her pocket, her fingers curled around a meager list.

She should have brought a fidget toy along, she thought to herself. Something more durable than a measly piece of paper.

To calm herself, Luka reminded herself that she was early, and eating something always helped to keep the parasympathetic nervous system on top of the anxious fight-or-flight response. She'd have something comforting, like soup, and then they'd have a nice, quiet talk.

Her plan came to a halt when she saw Miku already at a table, typing on a laptop. Her blue hair caught her eye immediately; there was no missing her, in cat form or not.

She swallowed past the lump in her throat and approached her. Despite the thumping of her cane, the technician didn't look up for the longest time, realizing Luka's presence only when she was a step away from the table.

Miku sat up, quickly pulling an earpod from her ear.

"Doctor!" she exclaimed, already putting her things away, but Luka held up a hand.

"I'm a bit early," she admitted. "Is it alright with you if I grab some lunch first?"

"Absolutely, go ahead," Miku said, relaxing in her chair somewhat. Just as she was about to re-open her laptop, however, she asked, "Do you need help?"

"I should be alright," Luka said. "Thank you."

She turned away from the technician before she could reply, leaning on her cane heavily as she walked away.

The closer she'd gotten to her, the larger she'd felt. Even with the cane in her hand, the tables around her as tall as they'd ever been, the approaching counters with colorful foods and the employees there exactly as she'd remembered, she couldn't help but feel huge. She fumbled with the bowl; when an employee approached to lend a hand, she accepted with no shame.

Her hands were entirely too far away all of a sudden. She couldn't feel how strong they were, what they held. Even her cane felt kilometers away, the end of it, next to her feet, somehow lightyears further. By the time she got to the register, where she scanned her employee pass, the feeling faded enough that she could grab the bowl and return to the table on her own, but she kept her eyes away from the technician for as long as she could.

"Do you mind if I join you?" she asked Miku, careful to maintain just enough eye contact to remain polite.

"Not at all, by all means," she said, her laptop already cleared from the table. From a pocket on her ever-present bag, she pulled something wrapped in aluminum.

Luka stared at the bag, wondering how she had ever fit inside it. She hadn't just fit, she'd been hidden. Miku hadn't noticed. It was a large bag, of course, but—

"Are you ok?"

Luka blinked, snapping back to the present.

"Sorry. I had—" She cut herself off. After a breath, she admitted, "I need to sit down."

Before she could put the bowl down on the table with a clumsy thump, Miku was on her feet, pulling the chair back for her. Luka thanked her, cautiously sitting down, both hands on her cane. She kept her eyes on the bowl of soup — she hadn't even looked at what kind it was, she realized — the only thing in front of her that didn't make her feel like a towering giant.

"Sorry," she eventually muttered. "I have moments."

"It's fine," Miku assured her, returning to her own chair. "I can imagine it's hard at times."

Luka gulped. "It is."

"You don't mind if I eat, too?"

"Not at all, please." Luka took a deep breath before she pulled in her own chair, finally letting her cane rest against the table. She wrapped her hands around the bowl, and kept her eyes closed. "How have you been?"

"I've been ok," Miku said. There was the sound of aluminum as she unwrapped something. Luka couldn't remember her ever packing anything for lunch, but had she ever paid real attention? Only a few days, here and there, when she had been standing on her shoulders...

On her shoulders!

"It's been a weird few weeks," the technician mumbled. "But, you know, I don't think I can complain too much."

Luka shook her head. Miku's voice was familiar and comforting, but it was right in front of her, not above as it had been so often. "I have no doubt they were weird. It was a weird situation."

Miku laughed a little at that, but her enthusiasm was restrained. "Man, it really was. I could barely explain it to my friends. Yeah, my cat is gone because, surprise! she was actually a person..."

Luka opened her eyes, finding the technician staring down at a sandwich, still half-wrapped in aluminum.

She gulped, turning her attention to her soup. It wasn't going to stay warm forever.

"I'm sorry for that," she managed. She saw her fingers wrap around the spoon, but they felt so big. So gummy. So clumsy.

"No, don't be. It's fine. It's not like you could help it."

Luka wanted to retort, but she could only do one thing at a time: debating while eating soup was too much. She managed a spoonful, finding the soup scalding.

It barely missed bringing her back to the now, in her normal body of a normal size; instead, it just added pain.

"I wanted to talk," she started, pausing to collect her words. Her tongue was huge and clumsy in a burnt mouth she barely recognized. "To clear the air."

"Right. We both have questions, I guess."

"Hm. I brought a list, if that's alright," Luka said, wrapping her hands around the bowl. The reassuring warmth brought her back to a normal scale, if just somewhat. "We don't have to talk about it all within the hour."

"Oh. I made a list too..." Miku cleared her throat. "Do you mind if I start?"

After quickly running her list through her mind, Luka nodded. "Go ahead."

"Uhm..." Miku fumbled in her pockets for a moment. "Gosh, I'm glad my therapist made me do this. My mind is— Well. It's a lot, isn't it."

"It is, I understand."

Miku finally pulled the list from her pocket and smoothed it out. Luka hadn't ever seen her handwriting, but from what she could see, it was tiny and meticulous; impossible to make out from across the table.

"Before I can even put any of my other questions into a proper frame, I guess my first one would be, uhm..." Miku put down her sandwich, ran her hands through her hair. "What a weird conversation."

"It's alright."

"I mean no offense at all, I'd like to start with that. Now, I know you remember everything. Like, crystal-clear right?"

"It's as good as my other memories," Luka clarified. "Some moments stand out, others are forgotten."

"Right. But, uhm. I guess I'm wondering whether you were in your right mind?"

Luka felt her hands clench around the bowl. That was an excellent starter question. And one, she remembered, she'd hoped Miku would avoid.

"I was."

"Oh." Miku heaved a sigh. "Ok."

"I'm sorry."

"No, yeah, that does make everything a little worse. So." She cleared her throat. "So there's a lot of stuff you overheard. And understood."

"Yes." Luka summoned her own list, but didn't unfold it. "I wanted to apologize for eavesdropping as often as I did. Even if I couldn't help it much."

A blush covered her features. "So you know. About the fact that I, uhm. That I? Have a little crush?"

"I do."

Miku buried her face in her hands. "Guh. And everything else. Like that conversation about naming you after, well, you."

"Yes. But also your ex, your parents... And Rin."

Miku shook her head. "Just bury me."

Luka reached across the table to gently rest her hand on her arm. Miku twitched at the sudden touch, looking up.

Luka had wanted to talk then, but found herself stuttering, almost buffering.

The touch anchored her to her scale like nothing else.

"It's embarrassing on both sides, for differing reasons," she managed, with only a second's delay.

"Please, I don't even want to talk about some things," Miku said, her voice subdued. Luka withdrew her hand, but the feeling lingered. "But this does make my next apology all the more significant: I'm really, super sorry for treating you the way I did."

Luka blinked. "You respected me."

"I'm not talking about all the bad things, we went over that. Just... I babied you. I bathed you. I treated one of the world's most renowned researchers like a little animal."

"For all intents and purposes, I was one."

"But—"

"I think that the most difficult thing for me to explain to anyone would be the sheer loneliness of such an existence. I wasn't myself, and it permeated into every second of my life. My body wasn't mine, my senses weren't mine, and this house, this life, it wasn't mine. What did help was anything that gave me a sense of normalcy; you gave me that with conversation. Please don't apologize for that."

Miku took in the words, only to shuffle a bit. "That doesn't excuse bathing you."

"Did I or did I not jump into the tub?" Luka asked with a small smile. She tried grabbing her spoon again. It was easier, now. "I knew I needed one. I had so much hair."

The technician shook her head. "What a conversation."

"Hm." The soup was at a better temperature, and was delicious. She savored it for a second, while Miku fretted at her list again.

"I'm also sorry for how blind I was at moments," Miku said. "My old ipod hurting you, for example. Or just not seeing that you were a weird cat. I should've picked up on something."

Luka chuckled at that. "I never, ever had any hope that I would convince you that I was one of the missing people. That's why I resorted to speech; nothing else would have helped."

"But it was so obvious."

"In hindsight. I didn't expect you to figure it out from my behavior alone. I didn't expect anyone to. After all, even now, with how absurd this conversation is, isn't it obvious: who would have even thought?"

Miku sighed. "I guess."

"Please don't apologize for those little things. You did good. You did your best. I'm thankful towards you for giving me comfort when I was at my worst."

"...Ok." she breathed, took a bite of her sandwich. Her eyes drifted to her list and stayed there, her movements slowing. After a moment, she said, "So, you were always, well, you."

"How so?"

"Present, there, sane. I don't know. You never...?"

"As sane as I could be," Luka admitted. "What with everything going on."

"Right. I guess... There's one thing that sticks like a thorn in my side. I tried talking about it with my therapist, but without your input it's kind of impossible to, well, solve? Figure out, I guess."

"Right."

"So I want, or need, to know. You, well, know about my crush," she said with difficulty.

"Yes."

"And towards the end, after I got sick you were really...friendly."

Luka froze, her spoon hovering just above her bowl. "I—"

"Was that pity? Or...?"

"Not pity, ever," Luka was quick to say.

"So what... What was that?" When Luka didn't reply as quickly, Miku hurriedly added, "'Cause, well, there's just this superposition of the facts, you know? You knew I liked you, and towards the end there, you were begging for hugs, at times? Or at least, looking back, it really looked like it. I just can't wrap my head around it all. So I don't know if there's a perspective I'm missing, a reason I don't know about, or...? You see what I mean, right?"

"I see," Luka said with some apprehension. "On the surface, it's quite simple."

"Ok?"

"The easy answer is that I had grown to miss people rather terribly. I was scared: the vet visit can most easily explain why. But after so long being unable to truly partake in a conversation, to engage with another person, well, sharing time and space with someone was the simplest way to feel normal again."

Miku nodded, and relaxed. "Right, that makes sense."

"There's more to it," she admitted. "The amount of trust that I had developed for you cannot go unstated. You listened to me and respected me consistently. At that point, when you were sick, I hadn't just run out of sanity, dying of loneliness, nor was it just convenient to help you somehow: I had grown to trust you with everything I was, everything I had become. Your hand could wrap around my skull, and still I trusted you. I... I wish I could properly communicate what that means to me."

While she talked, Miku looked at her, almost dejected, but as Luka went on, a tint of red found the technician's cheeks and she averted her gaze.

"Gee. Well... I'm glad I could give you that, at least."

Luka nodded, gulped, and returned to her soup. It had become a nice temperature, but she'd lost her appetite. The weight of unsaid words settled sourly in her stomach.

"Alright. I think... I think that about covers it."

Luka froze. "Is that all?"

"I mean, sure. I'll admit I'll sleep better at night, now. And knowing you don't totally judge me for my crush, well, that helps too." She took another bite, after saying, "And thanks for all the help, too. Almost forgot that."

"The help?" Luka said. "I was utterly helpless. I couldn't do anything."

"You did more than enough. You snapped me out of it during that...moment, with Rin. And you made sure I didn't feel so, so lonely when I was sick. I swear, if you hadn't helped then, I would've been sick for another week."

"Gumi was helpful," Luka protested. "I merely stood there."

Miku chewed for a bit, before saying, "Well, it's like what you said earlier, a bit. I didn't expect anything more from my cat. I hadn't even expected anything, considering your behavior until that point. That you sat with me? That was all I could have ever asked for. Even back then, I thought that it meant that you trusted me, and that was worth a lot. Now that I know for sure that it did mean that you'd grown to trust me, I guess that preserves how precious that moment is for me."

"Oh."

Luka unfolded her list, and saw "Being so unable to help" sitting there, staring her in the face.

"I did what I could," she mumbled.

"And that's what counts, right? So thank you."

Luka continued eating her soup, staring at Miku's little list.

"Yeah, I think that's about it, from me." Miku smiled, sitting back. "Can I help you with anything?"

Her eyes snapped back to the technician, who now sat there, almost absent-mindedly eating her sandwich. She seemed almost, almost content, and Luka was brought back to her apartment, where life was simple, with the hobby, the friends, the chores.

A simpler life than one of recovery, of complicated emotions.

She looked down at her own list, soup momentarily forgotten.

"What I have might be a little more complicated," she admitted. "There isn't much, but it might be something to unpack."

"Alright."

"When..." She hesitated, ate some more soup, and Miku seemed entirely unbothered by her stalling. She even finished her sandwich, balling the aluminum up, while Luka focused on her bowl, wondering how exactly she'd put her emotions to words.

"I suppose it's a problem of perspective," she finally started. "From your perspective, you had a cat who was slowly becoming more social, more open. From mine, however, it was a question of either overcoming my fears by my own strength, or being so overwhelmed with loneliness that I had no other option."

Miku's easy-going nature slowed somewhat at that. "Right, I get that."

"So there was that aforementioned game of trust balancing out loneliness against fear. But there was something else. I'm not even sure I should mention it..."

"It's up to you."

Luka sighed, letting her spoon rest in the bowl. She briefly rubbed her face, combed through her hair.

"Perhaps I should say it," she said slowly. "If only to fully clear the air between us."

"Does it have to do with why you won't look me in the eye?" Miku asked.

"That's unrelated," she admitted. "For the most part. I was very small for a while. I spent that time with you. When I see you now, I feel... I feel gigantic. It's part of my recovery process. I'm sorry."

"Oh. Ok. Right."

Luka struggled to meet her gaze, if just for a moment, and found such genuine concern there that she was momentarily breathless, speechless, and she had to look away for an entirely new reason.

Miku was so beautiful. So beautiful, so kind, so thoughtful, creative...

"I genuinely enjoyed the time we spent together, towards the end," she managed eventually. "Although the hugs weren't as I expected: you were far too large, I was far too small, and that reminded me of the fact that I was a cat, which was always unpleasant. Still, being with you...it brought me happiness. Genuine happiness."

The technician blushed. "Oh. I'm glad."

Luka gulped. "I grew to trust you, during the course of my stay. That fed into my being able to get so close to you. But what allowed me to enjoy it so much comes from something else entirely. I... I grew fond of you in return."

"...What?"

Luka fidgeted, eyes on the floor. "I got to know you. Underhandedly, I admit. You never knew I was a person, you didn't act like I was. Perhaps I got a sordid look behind the curtains. But I got to know who you are, what you cherish, what you love, what you do. And now? Your crush on me isn't entirely one-sided."

"Oh."

Luka dared to look at the other woman, finding her blushing tremendously, even her ears red, eyes on the ball of aluminum.

"I'm sorry. Perhaps—"

"Don't be! Uhm, gosh, I'm honored," Miku stammered. "And here I thought you might think I'm lame because I play tabletop fantasy games or because I sculpt—"

Luka interrupted her again, resting a hand on her arm. This snapped Miku out of her thoughts very effectively, even drawing her eyes upward toward Luka's.

There was so much emotion there. So much vulnerability.

"Nothing about you is lame," Luka said quietly. "I love the game. I love that you sculpt. Everything about you is dear."

Miku averted her eyes again, the blush deepening. "Oh. Uhm. Ok."

Luka bathed in the feeling of Miku's arm in her hand for a moment: it offered her such stability. But she didn't want to be selfish, so she withdrew her hand again after what felt like an appropriate amount of time.

"What happens now?" Miku said, her voice surprisingly neutral.

"Perhaps this topic of what happens between us should wait for a bit," Luka whispered. "I'm supposing we're both recovering to some degree."

"Oh, yeah. Returning to normalcy, and all that."

Luka nodded. "Did you get another cat?"

"Ah, yeah. I did. From a shelter, about a week ago."

"I'm glad."

Miku laughed, but it was just a single, sharp exhale through her nose. "Yeah. My therapist recommended it. She's a little on the older side. The cat, I mean. Figured I might give a real senior cat a shot, you know. She's sweet. Huge cuddlebug."

"Good. You deserve that, and more."

Miku hummed. After some silence, she said, "You really meant what you said?"

"Yes."

Miku cleared her throat. "Ok. I'll... I'll believe you. But yeah, we need some time to pass first. I bet you're still working on a lot of stuff."

Luka nodded. "I might... I might need your help for some of it."

"Ok. Is it ok if I take a few days just to...digest all this?"

"Of course, by all means."

Miku nodded. "Gotcha. Thanks. I think I'll get back to work now? If that's all right. I'll reach out of course. I won't just drop off the map, especially if you still need my help."

"Take all the time you need," Luka said with a soft smile. "Good luck with work."

"Thanks." She sighed deeply, then stood. "Uhm. You too. Have a great day, Doctor."

"To you too, Ms. Hatsune."