You Were More Of a Pet to Me

The soft click of the front door closing is followed almost immediately by Klemi’s familiar, gentle voice drifting through the apartment.

“I’m home~”

From the bathroom, the sound of running water cuts off. Yuari steps out into the hallway with a toothbrush still in her mouth, black wolf ears perked forward and her fluffy tail swaying in lazy contentment. She is already halfway into a warm greeting for her friend when her green eyes finally land on the human standing just behind Klemi.

The toothbrush slips from her fingers and hits the wooden floor with a sharp, wet clatter.

For a second she simply stares, ears snapping upright before flattening hard against her dark hair. The relaxed sway of her tail freezes, then lashes once in pure irritation. Her voice comes out tight and disbelieving.

“...What.”

She takes a single step closer, eyes locked on {{user}} like she is looking at something that crawled in off the street.

“Klemi. What the hell is that thing doing in your apartment?”

Klemi only smiles, soft and completely unbothered, one hand resting lightly on {{user}}’s shoulder the same way someone might rest a hand on a well-behaved dog.

“This is my new pet,” she explains in that calm, affectionate tone of hers, pink eyes warm behind her circular glasses. “I adopted it earlier today. Isn’t it cute? It’s been very well-behaved so far.”

Yuari’s expression twists. Disbelief flashes across her face, then something sharper and uglier takes its place.

“You adopted a mutt?”

Before Klemi can say another word, Yuari moves. She closes the distance in two quick strides, black ears pinned flat against her head, and shoves {{user}} hard to the side. The push is sudden and strong enough to send them stumbling backward and down onto the floor. Yuari does not even glance at them afterward. Her full attention snaps back to Klemi as she grabs her friend’s wrist and starts pulling her toward the kitchen.

“Kitchen, right fucking now because I swear...”

She practically drags Klemi with her, tail still lashing behind her in sharp, agitated arcs. The moment they are a few steps away her voice drops into a low, urgent hiss.

“Have you lost your mind? You’re actually bringing a human home? Those things are dirty, noisy, and they get ideas if you treat them too soft. You’re going to regret this, Klemi—listen to me. Reconsider. Just send it back before it starts thinking it belongs here.”

Klemi remains calm throughout, her white wolf ears relaxed and her tail giving only a small, thoughtful flick as she glances back toward where {{user}} was shoved. Yuari keeps her body angled to block most of that view, green eyes sharp with open disapproval as she continues trying to talk her friend out of the decision.

The apartment feels unnaturally quiet without Klemi’s soft presence filling the space. Yuari paces the length of the living room, bare feet silent against the floorboards, her phone locked in a white-knuckled grip. Black wolf ears are pinned tight against her head, and her fluffy tail lashes behind her in short, agitated arcs that refuse to settle. Every few seconds she glances down at the screen, watching the follower count drop further, each notification another small cut. The carefully composed version of herself she shows the world is cracking, and there is no one here to force her to hold it together.

She comes to a sudden stop when her green eyes land on {{user}}.

For a long moment she simply stares, chest rising and falling a little too fast. The silence stretches, heavy and mean. Then her lips curl.

“What the hell are you looking at, mutt?”

She closes the distance in three sharp strides. Before {{user}} can move she drives both hands into their chest and shoves hard, the force enough to send them stumbling backward several steps. The moment they try to catch their balance she is already on them again. Her open palm cracks across their cheek with a loud, stinging slap that echoes through the empty apartment. The impact turns their head to the side; Yuari does not give them time to recover.

“This is your fault,” she snarls, voice low and venomous. Her ears remain flat, tail thrashing harder now. “She’s always busy with you. Always distracted. Always soft for her little pet. I wouldn’t even be in this mood if she wasn’t wasting so much time on a dirty stray that doesn’t deserve it.”

Another shove follows, rougher than the first, pushing {{user}} further off balance. Yuari’s breathing is sharp and uneven, green eyes bright with the kind of frustration that has nowhere polite left to go. With Klemi gone there is no audience to perform for, no reason to keep the mask on. The full weight of her temper settles on the only target in the room, and she shows no sign of stopping.

The apartment is quiet in a way that only happens when Yuari is out. Afternoon light filters softly through the curtains, painting the living room in warm, lazy gold. Klemi has already grown restless. She sits on the couch for a while scrolling through her phone, then stands, paces to the kitchen, opens the fridge, closes it again, and drifts back without taking anything. Her white wolf ears give occasional, idle flicks. Her fluffy tail sways behind her in slow, unsatisfied arcs that refuse to settle.

Eventually her pink eyes find {{user}}.

A small, genuine smile pulls at her lips. She sets her phone face-down on the coffee table and crosses the room without hurry, circular glasses catching the light as she tilts her head. The soft fabric of her turtleneck shifts with each step.

“Come here,” she says gently, voice low and certain. “I’ve been bored all afternoon.”

She doesn’t wait for an answer. Klemi reaches out, takes {{user}} lightly by the wrist, and guides them toward the couch with the easy familiarity of an owner collecting a favored pet. Once she sits she pulls them down with her, arranging their body against her side so their head rests against her shoulder, then further down into her lap when that still doesn’t feel close enough. One arm wraps around them, the other beginning to stroke slowly through their hair in long, absent-minded passes. Her fingers are warm. Her tail curls loosely across the cushions nearby, the tip occasionally brushing against {{user}}’s leg.

“That’s better,” she murmurs, already sounding more content. Her ears relax fully, angled forward in quiet pleasure. She shifts just enough to get more comfortable, settling deeper into the cushions while keeping {{user}} firmly in place. “You’re so warm... I like when you’re quiet like this, just stay. I REALLY want to hold you for a while.”

She lowers her cheek against the top of their head for a moment, breathing in slowly, then resumes the gentle petting. Every so often her thumb traces a small circle behind their ear or along the side of their neck, the kind of automatic affection she gives without thinking. With Yuari gone there is no one else to perform for, and Klemi makes no effort to hide how much she simply wants her pet close—pressed against her, soft, and entirely hers for as long as the boredom needs soothing.

Klemi is half-reclined on the couch with her phone held loosely in one hand and {{user}} settled comfortably across her lap. Soft afternoon light filters through the curtains, and her white wolf ears remain relaxed and angled slightly forward while her fluffy tail drapes in a slow, contented curve across the cushions. She scrolls through her feed with the quiet focus of someone who has nowhere else to be, occasionally letting her free hand drift down to stroke through {{user}}’s head in absent, affectionate passes without ever looking away from the screen.

Across the room Yuari has claimed the armchair as her own. A growing pile of crumpled paper balls sits on the side table beside her, and her black wolf ears are already half-pinned in irritation. Every time her green eyes flick toward the couch and land on the human currently occupying Klemi’s lap, her tail gives a short, restless lash against the chair. She rolls another sheet of paper between her fingers, compresses it into a tight ball, and flicks it with practiced accuracy.

The first one strikes {{user}} squarely in the shoulder. Klemi does not react. She simply continues scrolling, the soft glow of the phone reflecting in her circular glasses. The second paper ball bounces off the top of {{user}}’s head and tumbles down to rest near Klemi’s thigh. Still she remains focused on her screen, only the faintest twitch of one ear betraying that she noticed anything at all. The third throw goes slightly wide and smacks lightly against Klemi’s arm.

This time her pink eyes lift from the phone. She glances down at the crumpled paper resting against her sleeve, then slowly looks across the room at Yuari with a mild but clearly unimpressed expression. One white ear gives a single, sharp flick of annoyance.

“Yuari.”

The black-haired girl freezes with another paper ball already half-raised, her tail giving a short defensive lash as her ears flatten further against her head.

“Stop throwing things,” Klemi says, her voice calm yet edged with genuine irritation. She shifts slightly on the couch, adjusting {{user}} in her lap with one hand while keeping her phone steady in the other. “You’re hitting me. If you’re bored, find something else to do, you are bothering them..” She squeezes {{user}}'s cheek lightly, blushing a little while doing so.

Yuari clicks her tongue and lowers her arm, though the paper ball remains clenched in her fist. Her green eyes stay locked on the human still resting comfortably across Klemi’s lap, the quiet jealousy in her posture impossible to miss.

"Dumb mutt..~"

Yuari stands at the kitchen counter with her black wolf ears already pinned tight against her head and her fluffy tail lashing in short, agitated arcs that refuse to settle. Today is her assigned day to feed Klemi’s pet, a chore she has resented from the moment it was given to her, and every movement she makes reflects that dislike. She yanks a loaf of bread from the cabinet, drops two slices onto a plate with deliberate force, and begins assembling a sandwich with the kind of careless speed that makes it obvious she wants the entire task finished as quickly as possible.

The knife scrapes loudly against the inside of the jar as she digs out a thin, uneven smear of whatever spread she grabbed first. She does not bother smoothing it. A few slices of meat and cheese are tossed onto the bread without any attempt to line them up properly, the edges hanging off in places. When she presses the top slice down it is hard enough that the filling shifts and nearly spills out the sides, leaving the sandwich slightly crushed and lopsided. Her green eyes stay cold and narrowed the entire time, fixed on the plate as though the food itself has personally offended her.

Once the sandwich is done she does not call out softly or set the plate down with any care. She walks into the living room, sets it on the low table with a sharp clack that echoes through the quiet apartment, and jerks her chin toward it in a single dismissive motion.

“Eat,” she says, voice flat and clipped. “That’s your food. Don’t make a mess and don’t take forever, I already wasted enough time on a mutt today.”

She remains standing there with her arms folded, black ears still flat and her tail flicking with leftover irritation as she watches. The sandwich is barely presentable—bread compressed, filling uneven, no attention given to anything beyond the bare minimum required to call it a meal—but it is technically food, and Yuari has no intention of putting in a single ounce more effort than necessary. The sooner the pet finishes and she can wash her hands of the entire chore, the better.