It was my third day being an official dormitory caretaker for otherworldly tenants, and my second day since I welcomed the first resident.
Cresta Waurassel was a former imperial assassin under the service of High-King Tarcosa of the Granieda Empire. She boasted a whopping kill count that numbered in the hundreds, and allegedly murdered a great many ranking demons that contributed to a speedy end to the Calamitous War. Her weapon of choice was her own claws, but had been trained in all manner of martial weapons, including firearms, poisons, explosive ordinance, magical armaments, and traps.
All of this, and more, were in her dossier. I'd only gotten through half of it after returning to the dorm yesterday and figuring I should be more serious getting to know my tenants. Cresta had some serious burdens on those small shoulders of hers. Some that I couldn't begin to imagine when it came to the terrors she faced— and the terror she had to become.
Which was why the feline assassin in question, who was asleep and curled up on top of my chest, not only had my heart racing, but scared the shit out of me when I woke up. I was too scared to wake her myself. I didn't want to touch her and be branded a pervert. Cresta wasn't particularly heavy.
The problem was—
"Huu… nngh…" Cresta's hands tensed up and made her claws jut out a little too close to my chest for comfort.
"If there is a god, please have mercy. Don't let her claws snip my little buddy away," I begged, praying to a greater power for help.
Cresta began to hyperventilate, and her expression grew pained. It looked like she was having nightmares.
"Hey, Cresta? You okay?" Calling to her didn't do anything, and all I got were whimpers in return. I clicked my tongue. "Damn it."
If I suddenly moved and Cresta panicked in her sleep, that might prove problematic. But my only tenant was suffering right now. I couldn't just ignore what was happening. Literally. I couldn't ignore her because she was on my chest anyway.
What could I remember from the dossier? Nothing helpful came to mind. Damn the procrastinating me for ignoring work. All I had to do was read, but I managed to fuck that up.
I swallowed my fear and reached out to stroke her head.
"There, there. You're safe. We're at a dormitory on Earth. The war's over, Cresta. You can sleep easy." I whispered these words repeatedly like a manta, hoping to get through to her.
Eventually, she calmed down and retracted her claws. That was a hail mary if I'd ever done one. She could have shredded my hand to ribbons if that didn't work.
"Prrr… prr… prrrrrr…" Cresta was purring instead of whimpering now.
This was definitely a lot cuter and less scary. She was like an actual cat. Her tail swung playfully behind her.
Emboldened by her positive reaction, I began to scratch behind her ears. It startled me when she gently grabbed my hand, but it didn't look like an aggressive act— until she bit my palm.
"NNGGHH….!" I quickly covered my mouth with my free hand and suppressed the scream, hoping to not alarm her.
"Hmm… Akira? What are you doing in my bed?" Cresta asked groggily.
"C-Cresta… we're in my room," I said.
She saw the two puncture wounds from where her fangs sunk into and jumped out of bed. "I'm so sorry!"
My injury was nothing some ointment and bandages couldn't handle. The rest was up to time. It stung, and the pain pulsed every once in a while. I wouldn't be able to play games or flip pages as effectively, but it was more of an inconvenience than anything else.
However, Cresta took the incident to heart and hadn't stopped apologizing since morning.
"Akira… Are you mad?" she asked, peeking in from the hallway while I was cleaning up the less we left in the kitchen last night.
"For the hundredth time— I'm not mad at you. It was my fault for… uh, not locking my door," I answered.
There was no way I could tell her I was petting her when it happened.
Cresta's ears drooped, and her tail tucked between her legs. For an assassin, she sure was overly apologetic. I wondered if she had a moe gap of apologizing after every assassination. That would be a sight to witness.
After I finished cleaning the kitchen, she hadn't moved an inch except for the eyes watching my every move. If I let the status quo remain unchanged, it was going to be awkward as hell from now on. How was I going to convince her it was fine?
The doorbell cut through the silence. Cresta went right into assassin mode. Her claws shot out, pupils dilated. I thought she was going to run out and kill whoever it was, but she stayed as still as a statue with her eyes focused on the door.
"Relax. Anyone that comes by has to go through multiple security checkpoints. We're as safe as can be here," I said.
Cresta followed close behind as I went for the door.
"Delivery for Akira Katagiri!" The delivery man dropped off a rectangular box as large as himself.
"Perfect timing." I signed the electronic board that I received the package. "Cresta, help me bring this into the living room."
"But you're hurt! I'm strong enough to carry this on my own and then some. Just let me do it," she said.
"Look, I'm fine. Come on, this isn't going inside by itself." Even though she could probably carry this on her own, I had to show her I was alright despite being injured.
When we brought it inside, Cresta orbited the box like a satellite.
"What is it?" she asked curiously.
"It's for you," I said, cutting open the box and pulling out a tree-sized scratching post.
"F-For me? Even after I… " The guilt from what she did this morning was still tormenting her.
The only words that came to mind were to repeat that it wasn't her fault, but I knew it wouldn't help. Just telling someone that wasn't going to get through to them. Especially just yesterday, she promised to protect me, only to find that she hurt me the next morning. That must have messed her up.
I plopped my injured hand on top of her head. No amount of reassuring was going to convince this girl. What she needed was to move forward. Clearly the trauma she sustained during the Calamitous War had taken a greater toll on her. It made sense why the dossier was so large. My job was to learn everything I could about her.
I was beginning to understand that my role wasn't just to be a glorified house servant, but to also be their very first friend in a world they knew nothing about.
After all, we're going to be living together.
"As your caretaker, I have to see to my precious residents' wants and needs. An idiot like me can tell you came out of that war with more scars than I ever will from a bite wound. You don't have to apologize for everything. We're friends, which means we've got each other's back." My fingers moved on their own to scratch her head.
The teary-eyed Cresta began to purr.
"Thanks, Akira. I'm glad you're my caretaker." She grinned.
"You bet! Now that we're past that. How about you give your present a try?" I suggested, returning the smile.
"Yes!" Cresta shoved the scratching post out of the way and dove head-first into the cardboard packaging box. She had an extremely blissful look on her face. "Nnnyaahh… Cramped spaces are the best~"
If only I could see the look on my face. "That's what you go for instead?!"
"Don't knock it until you try it, man!" The assassin giggled from her box.