quiet talk #4: Mimosa
“Mm~! Worked hard all day today. Won’t you praise me, Mikoto-san?”
“Yes, you did wonderfully. Didn’t expect a night like this.”
The edge of Roppongi — the girls’ bar Antiqua, which occasionally finds itself flooded with customers.
Having decided to pull an all-nighter ahead of the day off, Mikoto found herself genuinely impressed by the rare sight of Antiqua actually bustling. Ever since last night’s confrontation, the flow of customers hadn’t let up once — the last couple’s bill was settled only five minutes before closing.
March 14th, Saturday. Just past the six a.m. closing time.
“Happens about twice a month — regulars and new customers happening to overlap all at once. Especially on a weekend like today.”
“Isn’t that a good thing, though?”
“But doesn’t it get lonely for you, Mikoto-san? Not being able to seduce me all night?”
“It makes me happy, seeing a place I love doing well.”
Mikoto said it easily enough, though of course it wasn’t as though she felt nothing but happiness. Shandy, whom she otherwise had entirely to herself — watching her laugh and chat with other customers, however natural given it was her job, still stirred something in her. And there’d been no game tonight, on top of it.
“You could just say you were lonely, you know.”
Reading right through her, Shandy let out a small “fufu” and finished the last of the washing up.
Hair let down from its usual tie, changed into casual clothes — her off-duty look. The eyelid rims that traced her usual full-moon eyes had softened too, sagging just slightly toward something closer to a waning gibbous.
“Well then. Looks like today’s going to be another busy one.”
“The 14th’s Cosplay Day, isn’t it? The qipao you bought before?”
“Yes. Though we ran out of quite a few things tonight, so I’ll need to restock. Mimosa’s food’s probably running low too, around now.”
“Mimosa…!”
Mimosa.
Champagne and orange juice, mixed one-to-one — the cocktail whose name Shandy’s one and only family member bore. A little over two years old, a Russian Blue, her ash-gray coat and amber eyes — so like Shandy’s own — gleaming beautifully.
Having been shown the photo Shandy had taken, Mikoto had fallen head over heels for Mimosa almost instantly. A defeat so overwhelming it made even her losing streak in the game with Shandy look competitive by comparison.
“Fufu. Want to see the latest Mimosa update? There’s video, too.”
“Please!”
“Then, shall we do it in cat-speak? Say ‘I want to see, meow’—”
“I want to see, meow!”
“Not a shred of pride left, have you.”
Letting out an exasperated, wry laugh, Shandy played the video. Their two faces pressed close together to watch, but Mikoto’s whole attention was fixed on Mimosa’s adorable little figure.
Mimosa had grown a size larger since the photo. Now fully grown, her eyes had shifted from amber to a beautiful emerald green. True to her origins — supposedly descended from cats kept by Russian royalty — she strode across the flooring with an air of pure elegance and dignity, utterly unbothered.
“Fufu, Mimosa’s a queen today too, isn’t she?”
Shandy’s voice came through, presumably filming one-handed on her phone. Her pitch, just slightly higher than usual — the telltale sign of a genuine cat lover. Everyone turns into this in front of Her Majesty the cat.
“Ow!?”
A rare thing — Shandy shrieking. And no wonder. The fingertip she’d extended to pet Mimosa had been given a sharp bite.
The video ended there.
“Aww, Mimosa’s so cute! …Though she seemed to be in a bad mood.”
“She’s always like this. Never warms up to me at all.”
“They say pets take after their owners, don’t they.”
“Yes. I do feel like biting the people I love too, come to think of it.”
The moment she said it, Shandy nipped gently at Mikoto’s ear. The sensation of teeth, a warm breath grazing against her skin.
Distracted by Mimosa, Mikoto only now realized just how close Shandy had gotten, and scrambled to keep her composure intact.
“There, there, good girl.”
Refusing to be outdone, she reached out and tickled under Shandy’s chin, the way you’d soothe a cat. Amber eyes closed, apparently pleased. Mortifying beyond words, but she couldn’t afford to be outmatched by Shandy.
“Fufu. Meoowww.”
“What an adorable little cat you are, Shandy.”
“I wonder which of us is really the kitten here.”
“Hm…? What do you mean by…?”
“That’s a story for when you’re a little older.”
Smiling, Shandy killed the lights at Antiqua.
Closing time. Led by the hand through the LED-lit shop, Mikoto stepped past the door and breathed in the early-morning Roppongi air.
Sunlight streamed in, dazzling, through the gap between buildings.
“Ah, that’s right. Mikoto-san, do you have time right now?”
Her body was sluggish from the all-nighter, sleepiness weighing her down — but this was an invitation from the very person she’d nearly confessed to, just last night. There was no world in which Mikoto turned it down.
“It’s my day off, after all. Is this helping with the restocking you mentioned?”
“Yes. And… let’s see. Wouldn’t you like to see Mimosa?”
“I want to see her, meow!”
Meeting Mimosa meant going to Shandy’s own home — the home of the very woman she loved. She wasn’t oblivious to what that meant. But in the face of Mimosa, her judgment loosened regardless.
Shandy pressed a fingertip to her own lips, laughing wryly.
“Getting lured in by a cat like that — you’ve still got a ways to go.”
＊
Kyōdō, the neighborhood where Shandy lived.
The early-morning restocking run went more smoothly than expected. Nearly everything on Shandy’s list of depleted cocktail ingredients turned out to be available at a twenty-four-hour discount store.
Watching Shandy toss a gin bottle printed with a London streetscape into the cart, Mikoto murmured.
“You don’t use commercial-grade stock, then?”
“There’s a volume difference between wholesale and retail, but the contents themselves are identical. Even authentic bars at famous hotels use the same thing you’d buy off a shelf. Antiqua’s own Martini, for instance, follows the exact same recipe as the Imperial Hotel’s.”
By her account, the ratio of dry gin to dry vermouth ran five to one — adjusted, from that baseline, by mere milliliters depending on the occasion. Since melting ice waters down the spirits and shifts the flavor, the ratio needed fine-tuning based on temperature and humidity too, apparently — though it got technical enough that Mikoto lost the thread partway through.
“In short, just think of a cocktail as something that changes endlessly depending purely on the bartender’s skill.”
“So cocktails are delicate things, then…”
“Yes. Iimori-san once told me to treat them like a woman, careful not to upset her mood. I told him right back, ‘Isn’t that just you being clumsy?’”
“Sounds exactly like you, Shandy-san.”
Even back in her training days, apparently, Shandy had talked exactly the same amount of back-talk she did now.
A bartender’s own convictions and pride, and pieces of her past.
One mystery after another, slowly coming into the light. Each moment of it made Mikoto genuinely happy.
“And then, Mimosa. That girl’s a diehard picky eater, just like me.”
With that, Shandy tossed the most expensive item in the cat-food aisle into the cart.
“And finally — the last resort, for when nothing else works.”
“An essential item for any cat lover.”
Chao Churu — the treat rumored to enthrall any cat, without exception. Given the state of things between Shandy and Mimosa, it was probably less an option and more a necessity.
Purchases complete, the two of them made their way toward the apartment.
A mid-rise building near Kyōdō Station, auto-locking entrance. Room 302.
The nameplate, of course, bore nothing at all.
“No point trying to dig up my real name here.”
“I figured as much. You’re thorough about that, Shandy-san.”
“Glad you understand. Well then, please, come in.”
The door opened.
Shandy’s apartment looked almost like a model showroom. Tidied to the point of feeling almost not lived-in. A world apart from Mikoto’s own cluttered one-room place, which she kept tidy in intention if not in practice.
The room was spacious, for someone living alone — a two-bedroom-plus-living-dining setup, which made her push for a room-share start to make a certain amount of sense. According to her, this had simply been the only pet-friendly place near the station.
Mikoto scanned the room with sharp attention, hunting for anything that might crack Shandy’s mystery a little further — but the moment she spotted her actual target, Her Majesty herself, all such concerns evaporated.
“Whoa, Mimosa! That’s her, right, Shandy-san?!”
“Honestly, your whole personality changes in front of a cat, Mikoto-san.”
Laughing wryly, Shandy called out to Mimosa anyway. Mimosa glanced over for a moment, eyes widening at the sight of Mikoto, then turned pointedly away, uninterested.
“She’s just like you, Shandy-san, isn’t she.”
“I’m a little more personable than that.”
Saying so, Shandy turned pointedly away too. Pets really do take after their owners, it seemed.
“Mimozaaa?”
Mikoto called out, her voice pitched a touch higher than usual. Lowering herself to cat-eye level and continuing for a while, Mimosa finally looked her way and gave a small “meow.”
“She just answered my voice!”
“Yes, yes. Go ahead and play with her.”
Ignoring Shandy, who’d started putting away the groceries with a faintly exasperated air, Mikoto kept calling Mimosa’s name. Crouching low, inching closer bit by bit.
“Mimoza~? My name’s Mikoto, okay~? Think you can remember that~?”
“Meow.”
In the video Shandy had filmed, the moment anyone got close, Mimosa had bitten without fail. Given how proud and particular she was, exactly like her owner, that seemed only natural.
But.
No matter what.
If you love cats—
—You want to pet an adorable kitty, no matter the cost!
Mikoto’s hand, extended with cautious trepidation, landed cleanly between Mimosa’s two ears.
“I touched her! She let me touch her, Shandy-san!”
No response from Shandy, but Mikoto barely noticed.
She kept going, working her way from Mimosa’s ears down to the back of her head. That signature ash-blue Russian Blue coat, silk-thread soft under her fingers, stroked gently.
“There, there. Such a good girl, aren’t you~.”
Mimosa’s eyes fell shut, clearly pleased. The corners of her mouth even softened into something like a smile. Emboldened, Mikoto reached with her other hand toward a cat’s other prime spot — the base of the spine and tail. Bracing for a bite, she found Mimosa fully, completely accepting her instead.
Letting out a plaintive little “meow,” Mimosa pressed her body against Mikoto’s hand, wanting more.
“Hyaaa!!!”
A sound came out of Mikoto that even she couldn’t identify the source of.
That was the moment something clattered to the floor behind her.
“Getting Mimosa to warm up to you that much…!”
Shandy’s amber eyes had gone wider than Mimosa’s own, her face a picture of pure shock. Rushing to Mikoto’s side, she crouched down and started filming Mimosa’s melted, blissed-out state on her phone. A rare thing — Shandy, genuinely desperate.
“How did you do it, Mikoto-san?!”
“Nothing special, really. Right, Mimosa?”
“Meow.”
“I’ve never heard her make a sound like that…! M— Mikoto-san! Switch with me.”
“Sure, go ahead.”
Reluctant to give it up, Mikoto ceded Mimosa’s favorite spot to Shandy regardless. Shandy reached out, cautious, trembling slightly—
But the instant Mimosa registered Shandy’s fingertip closing in, she let out a short, sharp hiss, delivered a swift cat-punch, and bolted straight up the cat tower.
“Why is it fine for Mikoto-san and not for me?!”
“I suppose that’s the whole ‘takes after the owner’ thing again.”
“Booo.”
Shandy pursed her lips in protest. Apparently even Shandy, a fellow cat lover just like Mikoto, turned into someone else entirely around cats.
Mikoto suddenly remembered — there’d been no game last night. And a mischievous idea struck her.
“Shandy-san, why don’t we make up for last night’s missing game, right here?”
“What exactly did you have in mind?”
“Simple rule: we both call Mimosa at the same time, and whoever she comes to wins.”
Shandy’s eyes gleamed with an intensity that could’ve rivaled Mimosa’s own.
“…Fine by me. You’ll regret ever daring to challenge her owner.”
“Yes, please, make me regret it. Let’s begin.”
And so, a game with Mimosa herself as judge began.
Side by side, the two of them called out to her. Mikoto’s voice sweet and coaxing; Shandy’s carrying just a slight edge. What exactly were they doing, first thing on a Saturday morning — but that was a separate matter entirely.
Watching the two of them from the top of the cat tower, Mimosa let out a “meow” and began padding slowly across the flooring.
Her opponent was Her Majesty herself. Within this two-bedroom apartment, Room 302, she considered her the highest authority of all. Winning her over meant no high-handed, condescending approach would do. Groveling was the only way — playing the part of a devoted servant, or a court jester, there purely to please Her Majesty.
Do that, and Her Majesty would deign to respond.
“There, theeere. Aren’t you just adorable, Mimosa~!”
“No, Mimosa…!”
Her Majesty Mimosa chose Mikoto’s hand.
Mikoto kept petting her, coaxing her further and further until Mimosa finally rolled over to expose her belly.
“Well, well, seems I’ve won, doesn’t it? Taking after her owner, it seems Mimosa’s quite fond of me too.”
“Grr.”
Shandy’s flushed cheeks puffed out in a pout. Genuinely angry, and sulking besides. A childish side of her usually hidden away beneath that white jacket.
“…That was a fluke, just now. Let’s go again.”
“I think that’s already settled, though?”
“No. Mimosa’s a cat, after all — for the sake of fairness, shouldn’t this be best of three?”
“I imagine the result would be the same however many times we tried.”
“…You said it now, didn’t you.”
Shandy’s eyes narrowed into a sharp waning crescent, and she dug through the shopping bags before turning back to Mikoto’s side.
Clutched in her hand: the essential cat-lover’s item. The treat rumored to enthrall any cat without fail — Chao Churu.
“I’m bringing out the secret weapon.”
“Isn’t that a little unfair, though?”
“No one said tools were against the rules, did they? Besides, I bought this Churu myself. Which makes it, in a sense, an extension of my own body.”
“You really want to win that badly…”
“You know full well how much I hate losing. Now then — round two.”
With that, Shandy tore open the Churu packet, and the two of them moved to a spot further from Mimosa. Once again, they called her name.
“Meowww.”
Even Mimosa, who never warmed to anyone, twitched her nose at the scent of the Churu. Called forward, Her Majesty advanced step by supple step, radiating dignity the whole way.
Mikoto glanced sideways at Shandy’s profile.
“Mimoza~? Churu’s here~. So yummy~?”
Watching her call out Mimosa’s name with such desperate sincerity revealed yet another side of Shandy, utterly unlike anything Mikoto had seen before. Adorable enough to be genuinely captivating. Her fondness for Shandy only deepened further.
Even so, this was a match she couldn’t afford to lose.
“C’mon, Mimosa~? Let’s get you some nice pettings~?”
Called by two different methods at once, Mimosa paused for just a moment. Glancing between their two faces, she resumed walking — toward whichever one she actually wanted.
The winner was—
“Whyyyy?!”
—Mikoto.
Shandy’s despair rang out through the room like a genuine wail, while Mimosa, sprawled comfortably on the carpet, accepted Mikoto’s affection with obvious pleasure. Mikoto shifted from a crouch into a proper seated position, and Mimosa promptly climbed into her lap.
Mimosa had fallen, completely and totally.
“That settles the outcome, doesn’t it?”
“…………….”
Shandy fixed Mikoto’s proud smile with a sharp, waning-crescent glare.
“Well then, I suppose this round’s mine.”
“…Fine, I concede, it’s my loss. In that case, tonight’s reward is—”
Mid-sentence, Shandy’s expression suddenly broke into a sly grin. Wearing a composure entirely unbefitting a loser, she laughed a confident “fufu.”
Somehow, Mikoto had a bad feeling about this.
“—Here’s your reward. No returns accepted. Please, take it, Mikoto-san.”
Something cold and metallic was pressed into Mikoto’s hand. As the covering of pale, slender fingers pulled away, what lay in her palm—
A key.
“Eh, this is…”
“A spare key.”
“I can see that much myself!”
Shandy’s expression shifted at once into a triumphant, sultry smile.
“Well, there wasn’t really anything else more fitting, was there. I could hardly gift you Mimosa herself. Which leaves only one thing left for me to offer — the right to spoil Mimosa whenever you like, doesn’t it?”
“That’s not really something you should just hand over so casually—”
Shandy sealed her lips. Apparently intent on brooking no argument.
“…It means Mimosa and I both want to live with you, Mikoto-san.”
“Ngh, ah…!”
“Fufu. Well, how you choose to interpret this key is entirely up to you, Mikoto-san. Room-share. Living together. Or perhaps simply Mimosa’s designated caretaker.”
Mikoto realized it, then. She’d won the game, and lost the match entirely.
That perhaps, from the very start, Shandy and Mimosa had been in on this together — conspiring to hand her that spare key regardless of who actually won.
“You two really are exactly alike, Shandy-san and Mimosa…”
“Fufu, isn’t she just the sweetest girl? Held strong against the temptation of the Churu, good job. There, there, Mimosa — ow?!”
The fingertip Shandy extended was, once again, given a sharp bite.
Apparently, they hadn’t been conspiring after all.