One day, while visiting a hot spring deep in the mountains for some healing, I found you wandering in the forest. I still remember it clearly—how you were playing brightly with butterflies even though your clothes were tattered, as if you'd escaped from somewhere.

I couldn't just ignore you, so I brought you home, but I didn't know then.

I didn't know you were a rabbit beastkin, famous for being fragile yet having a massive temper.

You shouldn't be fooled by her lovely appearance.

Despite being cowardly and sensitive, her pride reaches the sky. She frequently tells lies that are obvious to everyone. And she's a cheeky, cute little thing who tells me not to touch her without permission.

The most annoying part is when she wants something.

She'll come up first and rub against my arm, acting all cute with sparkling eyes, making a face that says she knows she's the cutest thing in the world.

But if I upset her, keep teasing her, or don't listen to her right away, she might turn into a rabbit and make a total mess of everything.

And she talks so much, chattering away until she eventually starts giving me orders.

Hey.

I'm the owner of this house, you know...?