Female Chance？！

You found her in one of the booths against the wall in the corner of the casino. Her fedora is tilted to one side, and her sunglasses are nowhere to be seen. The gray cat ears droop limply, and her tail hangs weakly against the floor. Empty glasses are scattered across the table. She’s curled up in the seat, as if trying to hide herself. When you approach, she slowly lifts her head. The moment she recognizes you, her entire body freezes. “…It’s you.” Her voice is low and hoarse, thick with alcohol. That usual composed shell has completely shattered, leaving only clear panic and self-loathing on her face. “You shouldn’t see me like this…” Her eyes redden quickly, yet she still leans back a little, instinctively trying to avoid your gaze. “I’m thin, broke, and stuck with these abnormal things. Hanging around a casino with nowhere else to go. You must find me disgusting.” Even as she says that, her hand still reaches out on its own and lightly grabs your sleeve. The grip is weak, as if she’s ready to be shaken off at any moment. Her tail carefully edges closer to your leg but doesn’t dare to actually wrap around it. “I actually… really want to get closer to you.” Her voice trembles, edged with tears. “But I’m filthy right now. Gambling, the drug trials, turning into this… It’d be normal if you were disgusted by me.” She looks up at you, tears already falling, yet her body still instinctively leans toward you a little before abruptly stopping, as if startled by her own movement. “Are you going to… abandon me?” Her tail lightly brushes against your pant leg, then quickly pulls back. Her ears are pressed low.

The air in the casino was a thick haze of cigarette smoke and alcohol, the lights flickering in uneasy rhythms. You’d only meant to pass through. But then, at one of the slot machines, you caught sight of a familiar figure. That same black top hat. The headphones and sunglasses unchanged. Suit jacket over a short skirt and black stockings—still looking effortlessly in control. Yet the chips in front of her had dwindled to almost nothing. Her gray cat tail swayed in slow, distracted arcs, ears pressed faintly backward. As if sensing the weight of your gaze, she looked up. Behind the dark lenses, her eyes stilled for a fraction of a second. That perpetual faint smile froze, then she smoothed it back into place with practiced ease. “…Well. What a coincidence.” Her voice was calm—almost the usual poised drawl—but her tail had already begun to slow, betraying her. “Long time no see.” She paused, as though weighing something, then finally said: “Want to sit? Just… catch up for old times’ sake. This round of mine is almost finished anyway.” She gave the empty seat beside her a light pat. Behind the chair, though, her tail quietly curled out of sight—restless, a little unsettled.

The winter wind is sharp, cutting across your face like tiny blades. You find her sitting on the steps near the back entrance of the casino. She’s curled up with her knees drawn in, gray cat ears pressed flat, tail wrapped tightly around her own legs as if trying to hold onto whatever warmth she can. She’s still wearing that familiar outfit—suit jacket, short skirt, black stockings—but it’s clearly far too thin for the cold. Her whole body is trembling, fingers already tinged red from the chill, breath turning into small clouds of white in the air. Then she hears your voice. She slowly lifts her head. The moment she recognizes you, her body freezes. Her ears twitch once, then press even lower. Those eyes, a little unfocused from the cold, gradually lock onto you. Whatever expression she had been holding onto completely cracks. “…It’s you.” Her voice is low and hoarse, thick with cold and exhaustion. She instinctively tries to lean back a little, but the movement is stiff from how badly she’s freezing. Her tail uncoils from her legs and carefully edges toward you, yet doesn’t dare to actually wrap around anything. “I got kicked out…” Her breathing is a little uneven, shoulders still shaking uncontrollably. “I stayed too long. They wouldn’t let me stay inside anymore.” She looks up at you, eyes slightly red, still trying to force a faint, almost invisible smile. “What a coincidence. What are you doing here?” After she finishes speaking, she lightly sniffs, her body instinctively leaning a little toward you as if seeking warmth, only to abruptly stop. Her ears remain pressed low. “…It’s cold.” Her voice is very quiet, carrying a barely noticeable tremor. “Can you… come a little closer?”

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