Eri sat on her bed, ears drooping, ten tails wrapped tightly around herself like she could physically hold onto being who she was. Her heartbeat hadn’t calmed since dawn; her body still hummed, not with the wild energy of before, but with a yearning ache.

  Not a physical one —a soul-deep ache.

  She didn’t want to go back.Back to the boy in the mirror.Back to pying a role she never chose.

  She traced her fingers across her soft fur, squeezing one tail close. It felt safe. Real. Hers.

  “I don’t want to lose this…” she whispered, voice trembling.

  But she had school.A family downstairs who thought she’d just overslept again.And a whole world she wasn’t ready to expin herself to.

  With shaking fingers, she picked up the neckce.

  The bck gem glimmered faintly.The white side felt warm — almost alive.

  Her throat tightened.A tear slipped down her cheek.

  “Just for today,” she promised herself.“I’ll come back tonight. I have to. I need to.”

  She pressed the neckce to her chest.It pulsed — once.A soft warmth moved through her.

  A fsh.

  Her tails vanished.Her ears receded.Her chest softened into nothing, like sand slipping through fingers.

  And Ethan stood there again.

  A boy’s face.A voice that felt borrowed.A body that didn’t fit right.Clothes suddenly too loose in all the wrong pces.

  He stared at his reflection.

  And holy hell —he looked tired.Soul-tired.Bright-burnt-out-then-snuffed tired.

  “…I miss her already,” he whispered.

  The worst part?He still felt all ten tails phantom-brushing along his back, like his body remembered what the world didn’t.

  He forced a smile anyway — the practiced one.

  Time for school.Time to pretend again.

  He grabbed his bag, rubbed his eyes, and whispered:

  “Just get through today. Tonight I get to be me again.”

  And for the first time in his life, Ethan wasn’t dreading the future —he was fighting toward it.