My room enveloped me in a familiar embrace, the soft hues of the evening sun filtering through the windows. The day before had been a whirlwind of emotions and adventures, leaving me both exhilarated and exhausted.
I glanced around, taking in the comforting sights—the well-worn armchair by the window, the faded tapestry on the wall, and the stack of old books on the bedside table. Each object held memories, etched into the very fabric of the room.
The soft creak of the door interrupted my reverie. I turned, expecting to see the usual feline forms of Lise and Yumi. But to my surprise, they stood before me, fully human once more. Their eyes sparkled with mischief, and I couldn't help but chuckle.
"You're not cats anymore," I said, my amusement evident. "I almost miss your furry antics."