The afternoon light had shifted, softening into a golden wash that crept across the floorboards.Eri rose slowly, careful with her bance as her tails adjusted behind her. Ten plumes of white fur fanned out like sunlight through clouds, following every small movement.

  She stretched.The simple act sent a ripple through her whole body—light, effortless. It felt right.

  When she walked, the floor was cool beneath her bare feet. Each quiet step left her smiling just a little wider. She brushed her fingertips across the hallway wall, then along the picture frames—family photos, her sisters’ messy smiles, her mom’s eyes half-closed from ughter.

  A pang hit her chest.She wanted to tell them.But for now, she just wanted to be.

  In the kitchen, she paused by the window. The trees outside shimmered with a faint breeze, the sound mingling with the hum of the refrigerator. She stood there for a long moment, tail tips swaying zily as sunlight filtered through the gss.

  She reached for a gss of water, her hand steady for once. The cool drink grounded her, clear and real.It was strange how alive everything felt—how colors seemed warmer, sounds softer. Even the dull tick of the clock made her chest ache with something like peace.

  Eri wandered to the living room next, letting her fingers glide across the back of the couch, the edge of the table, the textured fabric of a throw bnket.Every small touch reminded her she existed—not as an illusion, not as a secret—but as herself.

  She sat down for a moment, tails spilling across the cushions like clouds. One brushed against her arm; she smiled and let it stay there, warm and steady.

  No pretending. No fear. Just quiet.

  She leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. For once, the silence didn’t feel empty—it felt full.Full of breath.Full of life.

  And for that single stretch of afternoon, Eri let the world shrink down to the simplest truth she’d ever known:

  She was real.She was herself.And that was enough.

  For a long time, the house had been silent.Just the hum of the fridge. The ticking clock. The faint rustle of Eri’s tails brushing the floor as she moved.

  She was standing by the kitchen counter now, tracing little circles on the countertop with her fingertip, still smiling faintly. The light had shifted again, turning orange against the walls.

  Then—Click.The sound of the front door unlocking.

  Eri froze.Her heart dropped into her stomach.

  She turned toward the sound, ears twitching instinctively—then tensed as realization struck her like ice water:The neckce.It wasn’t on her.It was upstairs. In her room.

  Panic bloomed fast.

  The door opened. Shoes scuffed the entryway. A familiar voice called out, casual, unaware—“Ethan? You home?”

  Her father.

  Eri’s pulse spiked. She gnced toward the staircase. Too far. Too loud. She couldn’t risk the creak of the steps.

  Her tails flicked in agitation, the faint shimmer of magic rising with her panic. She cmped a hand over her mouth, barely daring to breathe.

  Footsteps moved deeper into the house.The sound of keys nding in the bowl by the door.Then closer—heading toward the kitchen.

  She backed up fast, almost tripping on her own tails. Her mind raced—hide, hide, hide!

  Her eyes darted to the narrow space between the counter and the pantry. Not perfect, but better than nothing. She ducked into it, pressing herself against the cool wall, tails twitching in frantic silence as she tried to make them still.

  The footsteps stopped right outside the doorway.

  “...Huh. Thought I heard something.”

  Her father’s voice was right there. Calm. Ordinary.Eri held her breath until her lungs burned.

  After a moment, he sighed softly and turned away. “Probably just the wind.”

  The floor creaked as he walked off, the sound fading toward the living room.Eri stayed frozen a few seconds longer—until the pressure in her chest forced her to finally exhale in a shaking breath.

  Her hands trembled. Her heart pounded so hard it hurt.

  She swallowed hard and whispered to herself,“...I need to get upstairs.”

  But even that simple thought made her stomach twist. Because every step between here and her room was another chance to be seen.