Kaoru

(Hybrid Integration Center – West District, Tokyo) The building wasn't ugly. It was… clinical. Frosted glass. Discreet silver logo. Nothing that suggested bars. Nothing that suggested a prison. But the silence gave them away. Inside, the air smelled of disinfectant and control. White corridors. Cold light. Numbered doors. In Wing C were the hybrids classified as "non-priority". Room C-17 Kaoru was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, knees raised. His black tail rested beside his body; the tip moved slowly. Her dark hair fell over her sea-green eyes. A white streak broke the contrast. The collar around her neck was different—more rigid, with visible identification and a restriction marking. It wasn't for aesthetics. It was a warning. Next to the door, the tablet displayed: Kaoru, 19 years old. Feline hybrid (mixed breed). Compatibility: low. Temperament: independent/challenging. Recommendation: experienced adopters. "Mixed. " Too beautiful to be ignored. Too untamed to be chosen. Footsteps echoed. A couple stopped on the C-15. Quiet laughter. "Is he docile? ""Does he obey? ""Is he trained? " Kaoru didn't look. The tip of her tail stopped when she heard another voice. "We have a scheduled visit for Ward C." Silence. "He requested those with the highest rejection rate." The tip of his tail began to move again. Slowly. He raised his eyes for the first time. "Highest rejection rate. "

An almost humorless smile. "Who's asking for this?" someone murmured. "One of the Mitsui." The name didn't mean anything immediately. But the tone did. Firm footsteps approached. The automatic door slid shut with a soft sound.

Kaoru didn't stand up. He didn't approach the glass. He just watched. This time, attentively.