It was te.

  The house was quiet, only the hum of the fridge downstairs and the distant ticking of a clock filling the silence. Eri’s ten white tails zily curled and uncurled across her bed like fluffy, restless serpents. Every time she shifted, a few brushed her neck or legs, sending tiny sparks of warmth through her.

  Sleep was impossible.

  She kept catching herself smiling like an idiot, heart fluttering, ears flicking at every little sound.

  Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore.

  “I’m doing it,” she whispered to herself, voice steady but full of barely-contained excitement. “I want to see.”

  She padded toward the bathroom, tails dragging like silk behind her. Every step felt weird — new bance, new hips, new softness everywhere. Her tail base swished naturally with her gait, and gods, she’d never been more aware of her own body.

  The light flicked on.

  She lifted her eyes to the mirror.

  And froze.

  Not in shock — she knew she was a girl now. She knew she had curves, a softer shape, a face that matched who she was inside.

  But seeing it?

  Seeing her?

  That was different.

  Her reflection was radiant — white hair falling like moonlight around her shoulders, fox ears perched softly above, their fluffy tufts catching the bathroom light. Her silver eyes glowed faintly, ethereal, alive. Her waist curved gently inward before fring into slender hips. Her tails fanned behind her like a snowy halo.

  She didn’t gasp. She didn’t scream.

  Instead, she went very, very still.

  A tiny breath trembled out of her lips.

  “…That’s me.”

  Her voice came out quiet, reverent. She lifted one hand and traced her cheek. Smooth. Warm. Hers.

  Not a mask.Not a dream.Her.

  A blush crept across her face — slow, warm, unavoidable.

  “Damn…” she whispered, eyes shimmering. “I… I’m beautiful.”

  And she meant it. For the first time in her life, she meant it.

  Her tails puffed up at her emotion, fluff exploding outward. She ughed softly — a real ugh, not bitter or forced or hollow. Just pure delight.

  She turned sideways, watching her silhouette, then back again. She tried lifting one ear with her fingers. It flicked and twitched instinctively.

  Her entire body melted.

  “…okay that’s unfairly cute.”

  Her cheeks burned harder.

  Then instinct took over — her tails wrapped around her waist and arms, and she buried her face in them like they were the world’s softest pillow. A muffled squeal escaped.

  “They’re so soft I can’t deal with this—”

  She swayed back and forth happily, ears wiggling.

  She was warm.She was safe.She was herself.

  And yes — she stayed there, cuddling her own tails, for far longer than she probably should have.

  Finally she whispered into the fluff:

  “I love being me.”

  Not dramatic.Not tearful.Simply truth.

  The clock ticked past midnight.

  Her reflection smiled back at her — a girl smiling in a way Ethan never could.

  She wasn’t ready to face tomorrow.She wasn’t ready to hide again.But she had tonight.

  Tonight, she was Eri — the girl she always was.

  The mirror glowed in the bathroom light.

  And Eri glowed right back.