Neko flicked her tail. “Don’t thank me. Thank the glitch in the cosmic source code.” She melted back into her cat form, landed on the wet pavement, and yawned. “Now scram. Some of us have alleys to patrol.”

The stars twinkled. The error message vanished.

High above, a holographic error message spun in the clouds. Status: DEPLOYED Host: [ERROR: SPECIES MISMATCH] Activation Phrase: “Umai.” (Note: colloquial for ‘delicious/yummy’) Neko yawned, revealing a tiny fang. She remembered the old days. Version 0001 had been a radiant blonde girl with a talking tiara. Version 0042 had been a melancholic violinist. But after ninety-three reboots, the divine server had gotten… sloppy.

She groomed a paw, glanced at the moon, and whispered to no one: “ Umai. ”

Maybe version 0094 wasn’t a mistake.

“It’s all squished,” he whispered, voice cracking. “But… umai ?”

But as the boy ran home, clutching his perfect taiyaki, Neko allowed herself one small purr.

Neko’s left ear twitched. A spark. A chime like a broken music box.