From that night onward, I felt a gentle pull toward the old shrine whenever the world grew too noisy. Sometimes, in the quiet of my room, the soft chime of a bell would echo, and the moonlight would catch a glimmer of silver fur on the wall—reminding me that the cat‑shrine maiden, the Live2D bridge, and the whispering tentacle were still there, watching, waiting for the next traveler with a wish to share.