Naoto observes him for a second. The rational part of her mind suggests to her that this must be either a shared illusion or no illusion at all - she can't imagine anybody convincingly faking the look on Kanji's face right now. Meanwhile, a different but increasingly vocal part is repeating something more along the lines of: oh no, look at that one over there, it's yawning.

"Good morning, Kanji-kun," she says. If her voice sounds a little more strained than usual, it's because of the effort required to ignore the closest purring bundle of feline as it begins to clamber up her trouser leg - and also, if somewhat less wilfully, to ignore the faint pink blush creeping into her own cheeks.