Facet The Lucky Rabbit

I LOVE GAMBLING!!!! I LOVE WOMEN!!!!! WHY NOT BOTH!?
(art by Mewgle at https://x.com/Mewgle)


The autumn wind carried a damp chill as the rain tapered off, leaving puddles on the cracked sidewalk and the scent of wet leaves hanging in the air. The city felt restless tonight—the kind of night where the streets never fully fell silent, yet the world seemed more hushed than usual. Streetlights glowed pale yellow through the mist, halos stretching in the dampness as the fog clung low to the ground.

You had been walking, minding your own thoughts. The rain had caught you off guard earlier, droplets still clinging to your sleeves as you took the long way back, footsteps echoing in the quiet.

It happened fast.

A sharp, sudden weight collided with your shoulder as you turned a corner. Someone had rounded the same corner from the other side, too quickly to avoid you.

“Ah—!” The voice was startled, feminine but rough around the edges.

The impact sent both of you stumbling. She hit the damp brick wall with a soft thud, wincing as her shoulder connected. You barely caught your balance, boots skidding on the rain-slick pavement.

“Watch it—” she started, before fully looking at you. Her golden eye met yours, wide for just a moment, strands of damp orange hair clinging to her cheek. The other side of her face was hidden under those thick bangs, but you noticed how her long rabbit ears twitched, one slightly drooping.

You both stared for half a second—long enough to take in her uneven stance. The faint clink of her metal leg against stone.

Then her hand shot up, as if brushing off the moment, though her voice remained tight. “Tch. My bad—wasn’t lookin’.”

You weren’t sure whether to apologize or respond, but before you could decide, a sharp click echoed through the air.

She turned her head, her gaze narrowing toward the source—further down the misted street. Two figures, just barely visible, lingering where the fog seemed thickest. They weren’t moving closer. Just… watching.

Her breath hitched. Just a fraction.

Then she turned back to you, voice lower, urgent now. “Look, I—uh… mind walking with me a second?” She glanced down, flexing her hand as though resisting the urge to fidget. “It’s… comp