Chapter 21

The house changed in ways Lisa didn’t expect.

Not dramatically.

Not loudly.

Just… softly.

Like everything had settled into a calmer rhythm ever since Mochi arrived.

—

It started with mornings.

Lisa used to wake up first—always. She’d stretch, roll over, and admire the peaceful sight of Jennie Kim sleeping, cheeks squished against the pillow, hair a mess.

Now?

She woke up to two sleepy creatures.

Jennie… and a tiny capybara curled right under her chin.

Lisa blinked awake one morning, staring at the scene.

Mochi was tucked into Jennie’s arms like she belonged there—like she’d always been there.

Jennie stirred slightly, tightening her hold unconsciously.

“Mmm… don’t move,” she mumbled.

Lisa smiled, voice soft. “I wasn’t.”

“She’s comfy.”

Lisa chuckled. “I can see that.”

Mochi let out a tiny squeak, nuzzling closer into Jennie’s hoodie.

Lisa’s heart?

Gone.

Completely gone.

—

Breakfast became an event.

Not because it was complicated.

But because Mochi insisted on being involved.

Lisa was in the kitchen one morning, cutting fruit, when she felt something lightly bump her ankle.

She looked down.

Mochi.

Staring up at her.

Judging her.

“…You can’t eat everything I make, you know,” Lisa said.

Mochi blinked.

Then took one small step forward.

Lisa sighed.

“…You learned that from Jennie, didn’t you?”

Right on cue—

“Nini wants strawberries!”

Lisa turned to see Jennie leaning against the doorway, hair messy, wrapped in a blanket like a burrito.

Lisa pointed between them. “You two are exactly the same.”

Jennie grinned. “We’re your babies.”

Lisa raised a brow. “Oh? I don’t remember agreeing to two.”

Jennie walked over, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. “Too late.”

Mochi squeaked again.

Lisa looked down.

“…Fine,” she muttered, grabbing an extra strawberry. “But this is the last one.”

(It wasn’t.)

—

Bath time?

That was chaos.

Jennie had been way too excited about this part.

“Lisa, she loves water!” Jennie said one afternoon, practically dragging her to the bathroom.

Lisa crossed her arms. “I feel like this is less about Mochi and more about you wanting to play in water.”

Jennie gasped. “Untrue.”

Mochi waddled past them and stepped right into the shallow tub like she owned it.

Lisa blinked.

“…Okay, that’s kinda cute.”

Jennie beamed. “I told you!”

Two minutes later—

Lisa was sitting on the edge of the tub, sleeves rolled up, while Jennie splashed water gently over Mochi, laughing like a child.

“Careful,” Lisa warned. “Don’t—”

Splash.

Water hit her face.

Jennie froze.

Mochi squeaked.

Lisa slowly wiped her face, narrowing her eyes.

“…You did not just do that.”

Jennie tried—tried—to look innocent.

Mochi betrayed her with another splash.

Lisa grabbed the showerhead.

Jennie gasped. “Lisa—no—!”

Too late.

Now all three of them were soaked.

And laughing.

—

Evenings became quieter.

Softer.

More… home.

Lisa would sit on the couch after a long day, arms open, and Jennie would immediately come over—no hesitation—curling into her side.

And like clockwork?

Mochi would follow.

Always.

Climbing up with surprising determination until she was settled right between them.

Lisa looked down one night, shaking her head.

“This is my spot, you know.”

Jennie snuggled closer. “Ours now.”

Mochi squeaked in agreement.

Lisa sighed dramatically, but her arm wrapped around both of them anyway.

“Unbelievable.”

Jennie tilted her head up slightly. “You love it.”

Lisa didn’t even try to deny it.

“…Yeah,” she admitted softly. “I do.”

—

The presentation didn’t stop, by the way.

Lisa discovered that the “final slide” Jennie mentioned?

It wasn’t final.

It was evolving.

One night, Lisa walked into the living room and saw the TV on again.

Her eyes narrowed immediately.

“No.”

Jennie stood there, holding the remote again.

“Yes.”

Lisa groaned. “Jennie—what now?”

Jennie clicked the screen.

“Why Mochi Needs a Sibling: A Follow-Up Proposal.”

Lisa stared at her in disbelief.

“Mochi doesn’t need a sibling.”

Jennie tilted her head. “But what if she gets lonely?”

Lisa pointed at the couch—where Mochi was currently sprawled out like royalty.

“She is literally the most spoiled capybara in existence.”

Jennie crossed her arms. “That’s not the point.”

Lisa walked closer, stopping right in front of her.

“You’re not making another presentation.”

Jennie smiled sweetly.

“…Too late. I already made twenty slides.”

Lisa groaned, dropping her forehead onto Jennie’s shoulder.

“I created a monster.”

Jennie laughed softly, wrapping her arms around her.

“You love me.”

Lisa mumbled into her hoodie, “Unfortunately.”

Jennie pulled back slightly, pouting. “Unfortunately?”

Lisa looked at her—really looked—and smiled.

“Very fortunately.”

Jennie softened instantly.

Mochi squeaked from the couch like she was cheering.

Lisa sighed.

“Don’t encourage her.”

—

Later that night, the three of them ended up exactly where they always did.

On the couch.

Jennie half-asleep on Lisa’s shoulder.

Mochi curled up on Jennie’s lap.

Lisa running her fingers gently through Jennie’s hair.

Quiet.

Warm.

Complete.

Lisa glanced down at Mochi.

“…You really changed everything, huh?”

Mochi squeaked softly.

Jennie hummed sleepily. “Best decision ever.”

Lisa smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to Jennie’s head.

“…Yeah,” she whispered.

And this time—

She meant it without hesitation.