Ivy walked into her room after school and shut the door before Misook could ask her about whether she had homework for the next day or not. One would think that when her parents were always abroad she'd acquire the freedom to slack off as much as is natural for her, but no. They were rich. They could hire people to fulfill their responsibilities, even if they didn't let Ivy do the same. Honestly, she sighed, letting her backpack slip off of her arm and fall on the floor with a thump, if only they'd let me pay someone to do my schoolwork. I promise I'd still be one of the best in my grade. She flopped back on her bed, resting her eyes briefly and opening them when a small thump reached her from somewhere near her calves only to see the cutest little ball of wrinkles in the world stretching and making itself comfortable in front of her.

"Well hello there, Violet," She said in English, running a hand down the cat's head and neck, "I haven't seen you in a week, approximately. I would have thought you'd left with Chorong if you didn't hate her so much." She smirked.

There wasn't that much of a story behind her acquirement of her cat. She'd simply always wanted a cat and, after having received her first, a beautiful blue eyed ragdoll that helped discover her brother's allergy to cat hair, they'd given her Violet. No hair, no allergies. Simple. Easy. And, Ivy reminded herself, smiling while watching Violet roll around the bed in front of her, every now and then catching her eye, cute.

A loud clattering outside the door startled them both. When Ivy got up to look, Violet jumped off, as well, running ahead and tilting her head up to look at her owner. Are you going to open it? She seemed to be asking, raising a paw to scratch at the wood. The moment Ivy did, the cat scurried out and down the hallway past the stairwell and the spot where Key lay, the doors of the cupboard in front of him thrown open and multiple books, which Ivy could only guess had previously been its contents, sprawled around him.

"What are you doing?" She asked, an eyebrow shooting up and her lips settling into an amused curve.

"I needed a book," He said simply, dryly, getting up and starting to pick up the ones around him. Ivy didn't make a move to help him, just leaned against the frame of her door, arms crossed, watching. 

"You could have just asked me for it," She finally said.

"We're in a fight," He avoided her gaze, instead focusing on organizing the books properly, something that Ivy was pretty sure he had already done.

She frowned. "Then you shouldn't be in my house," She hissed.

"It's your parents' house," He shot back, glaring at her.