The Tsurugi estate was silent, its sharp lines glowing in the dim spill of golden garden lights. Marble paths stretched across manicured lawns. A koi pond shimmered beneath a small stone bridge.
Marinette sat at the edge of that bridge, feet kicking gently above the water. Kagami stood behind her, arms crossed, sharp features softer under the moonlight.
"I still don't understand why you like spending time with me," Kagami said, voice even. "I'm cold. Blunt. You're…" she paused, her gaze dropping to Marinette's profile, "…everything I'm not."
Marinette turned to her with that lopsided grin — the kind that always made Kagami's stomach twist in ways she would never admit aloud.
"You're not cold," Marinette said gently. "You're just careful. That's not the same thing."
Silence.
Then, slowly, carefully, Marinette reached up — brushed a strand of hair from Kagami's cheek.
"Can I kiss you?" she whispered, eyes wide and utterly sincere.
Kagami blinked — once.
Then twice.
And then, softly, nodded.
Their lips met with the gentleness of everything unspoken between them. It wasn't frantic — it was slow, sure, deliberate. Kagami pulled her closer, hand resting lightly against Marinette's back, and Marinette melted into her, fingers curling in the fabric of Kagami's blouse.
The garden lights flickered like stars.
They kissed again — deeper this time. Kagami's restraint melted just a little. And Marinette giggled into the kiss like she couldn't believe this was real.
"Are you always this warm?" Kagami whispered against her mouth.
"I'm Parisian, babe," Marinette teased, breathless. "Get used to it."
Kagami smirked.
But then—
A sound.
Footsteps.
They froze.
Both girls turned.
And there—
At the edge of the garden path, surrounded by the soft glow of the house lights—
Stood Tomoe Tsurugi.
Expression unreadable. Face stoic. Her assistant beside her, tablet in hand, eyes wide.
She had seen everything.
The kiss.
The second one.
The giggle.
The "babe."
The silence was so thick, Marinette could hear her own pulse pounding in her ears.
Tomoe didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Just stared at the two of them — Kagami's arms still around Marinette, their lips still barely apart, caught mid-breath, like a living sculpture of forbidden affection.
Marinette swallowed. Her mouth opened — maybe to explain, maybe to apologize, maybe to cry — she didn't know.
And then—
"Kagami."Tomoe's voice. Low. Firm.Nothing else.
Not a question. Not a command. Just a judgment wrapped in a name.
Kagami straightened slowly, hands sliding from Marinette's waist. Her face was impassive — but her eyes?
Her eyes burned.
"Mother…" she started, steady.
And Tomoe simply raised one hand — not in anger, not in threat.
Just… silence.
Stillness.
And then—
CUT TO BLACK.