The arm went off.

  Ethan’s hand shot out from under the bnket, smacking the clock until it finally stopped screaming. The room fell silent again — that heavy, suffocating kind of silence that pressed on his chest.

  He y there for a while, eyes open, staring at the ceiling. The faint morning light filtered in through the blinds, catching on the glint of the neckce that hung around his neck.

  The neckce.Cold. Heavy.The thing keeping him from being her.

  He reached up and touched it, fingers brushing the smooth gem. It pulsed faintly with light, almost like it could sense his thoughts — mocking him.

  He wanted to rip it off so badly.To feel the air on his tails again.To feel her heartbeat instead of this empty one.

  But he didn’t.He couldn’t.

  If anyone saw him — his family, his cssmates — everything would fall apart.

  So he stayed Ethan.

  He forced himself up, feet dragging across the carpet. His reflection in the mirror caught his attention for a second — the tired, pale boy with dark circles under his eyes and a distant, almost lifeless stare.

  That wasn’t who he wanted to see.That wasn’t him.

  He turned away before his stomach twisted even more.

  Downstairs, the house was full of normal morning noise.The ctter of dishes. The low hum of the TV. His sisters ughing about something stupid.

  “Morning, Ethan,” his mom said from the stove, voice careful — like she was testing the air first.

  “Morning,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

  He sat at the table. Yui, gnced up from her phone.“Jeez, you look like death.”

  “Thanks,” he muttered.

  His dad chuckled under his breath. “Rough night?”

  Ethan gave a half-hearted shrug. “Couldn’t sleep.”

  He could still feel her — Eri’s presence like a phantom under his skin. The softness of her hair, the warmth in her tails. Every part of her that fit.Every part that he wasn’t allowed to be.

  He picked at his breakfast, stomach twisting, appetite gone.

  At one point his mom reached over and brushed his shoulder. “You sure you’re okay, honey?”

  “Yeah,” he lied automatically. “Just… tired.”

  That same excuse again.It was easier than expining that every second as Ethan felt wrong — like being trapped in a body that wasn’t his, pretending to be someone he didn’t even recognize.

  When he finished breakfast, he grabbed his backpack and stood up, adjusting his hoodie so the neckce stayed hidden beneath the fabric.

  The gem pressed against his skin — cold, solid, merciless.

  He sighed quietly, hand over it for a moment.“Guess it’s just another day,” he muttered under his breath.

  Then he stepped outside into the chill of the morning, leaving the warmth of home behind.

  The street was bright, the world busy and loud — and he felt like he was sleepwalking through someone else’s life.

  The boy called Ethan walked forward.But deep inside, Eri was still there — silent, aching, waiting for her chance to breathe again.

  off.

  The morning dragged on like it was moving through mud.

  Ethan sat in his first css, staring bnkly at the board. Words blurred together, the teacher’s voice just white noise. He was there physically, but his mind wasn’t. It couldn’t be.

  Every minute in this body felt wrong.Too heavy.Too sharp around the edges.

  The neckce was tucked under his shirt, pressing coldly against his skin — a constant reminder of what he wasn’t allowed to be.

  He rubbed at it absently, as if trying to soothe the pressure in his chest, but it didn’t help. It never helped.

  By second period, Alex had noticed.

  He leaned over from his desk, whispering, “You haven't been sleeping again have you.”

  Ethan forced a dry ugh. “Yeah.”

  “You sure your okay?”

  Ethan opened his mouth, but nothing came out. What could he even say?No, actually, I’m losing my mind because I can’t be myself unless I take off a cursed neckce that turns me into a fox girl.

  Yeah. No.

  He just nodded, muttering, “Just tired. I’ll be fine.”

  But Alex didn’t look convinced. He kept gncing over, worry etched into his face — that subtle kind of worry only a real friend had.

  By lunch, Ethan could barely focus on keeping upright. The cafeteria was loud — too loud — and the smell of food made his stomach twist. He sat at their usual table, picking at his tray, eyes half-lidded.

  “Did you even eat breakfast?” Alex asked.

  “Yeah,” Ethan lied.

  He hadn’t. He couldn’t stomach anything this morning. Every bite had tasted like dust.

  Alex sighed, watching him. “You’re scaring me, dude. You’ve been weird since that hospital thing.”

  Ethan flinched.

  “Yeah…” he said softly, eyes fixed on the table. “I just— haven’t been sleeping right.”

  Alex leaned closer. “You sure that’s all?”

  The question hit too close to home.

  Ethan forced another smile — it felt stretched and fake even to him. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it.”

  Alex frowned, clearly not buying it, but he didn’t push. He just gave a quiet nod and leaned back, though his eyes lingered a bit longer than usual.

  The bell rang, and they gathered their stuff. Ethan stood too fast, and the room tilted for a second — his vision going fuzzy around the edges.

  He caught himself on the table, breath shaky.

  “Whoa, hey!” Alex said, steadying him. “You sure you should be here?”

  “I’m fine,” Ethan said quickly, brushing him off. “Just dizzy. Caffeine crash.”

  Alex gave him a look — that same blend of concern and disbelief.

  “Fine,” Ethan repeated, firmer this time.

  But when he walked out of the cafeteria, the hallway spun again. The chatter, the smming lockers, the fluorescent lights — it was all too much.

  He kept one hand pressed to the neckce through his shirt. The cold metal grounded him just enough to keep moving.

  But inside, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep pretending.

  Because every hour as Ethan felt like dying in slow motion.And every heartbeat whispered the same thing, over and over:

  You’re not him.You never were.