Etoile could still recall when she first started living with Ilse, and the conversation that had occurred. It was almost like yesterday, really, that the lilac-haired senshi of Bubbles had met the guardian cat by chance, and Etoile had immediately attached herself to the girl, wanting to be the very best of friends.
Sadly, Etoile’s fantasies proved to be a far cry from the reality of what had went down with this arrangement.
“Let’s get something straight, cat,” Ilse had begun, after the introductions were over, “You can’t let yourself be seen by my parents.”
“But why not?” Etoile had protested, too curious for her own good, “I want to meet them, I want to! I bet we’d get along really well.”
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to explain you to them,” the teen had countered, frowning, “And you talk- too much, really, and I don’t know how I’d explain away that.” Ilse was thoroughly convinced that no matter what the little cat said, that something would occur and Etoile would end up blowing her cover. Seeing as this whole ‘leading a double life’ gig was an entirely new experience for the bubble senshi, the last thing she needed was Etoile saying something or another and being sent to jail for being one of those ‘terrorists’ the news always talked about.
Etoile’s face fell at that point, and if she was truly capable of such a thing as a cat, she may have even started pouting. At best, she did her darndest to give Ilse the feline equivalent of the puppy dog eyes, hoping to sway her opinion. “I’ll keep quiet, you know I will! I’d never put you in that kind of danger, Ilse.”
Needless to say, Ilse was having none of it. “Look,” she had said, growing more impatient by the second, “my parents aren’t exactly prepared to own a cat, and they know I’m not the type to bring home some random stray off the streets. I’ll figure something out later, but in the meantime, Stay. Out. Of. Sight. You got that?”
Geez. If looks could kill, then Etoile would have been one very dead kitty right now. Still, in the little cat’s mind, Ilse was simply being unreasonable, much too unreasonable, and would have to come around eventually. Letting out a defeated (and disappointed) sigh, Etoile paced back and forth, mulling over her options, before padding up to Ilse and sticking out a paw. “Roger that! I’ll be quiet as... as quiet as a rock!”
… That hadn’t exactly been quite the answer Ilse was looking for, but it was close enough for now. Resisting the urge to groan, or correct Etoile, Ilse reluctantly knelt down to the cat’s level, before taking the offered paw in one hand, in something resembling a handshake.
“Then you’ve got yourself a deal. But stay out of trouble.”
Oh, how that warning would ultimately prove to be futile.
