Morning came softly.

  Not with an arm or a shout, but with a thin line of pale light sliding across the curtains, creeping slowly over the floor, the bed, and the quiet tangle of fur and limbs in the center of the room.

  Mira woke first.

  At first, she didn’t know where she was—only that she was warm. Very warm. Something soft was pressed against her chest, something that breathed.

  Then it all came rushing back.

  Ethan.

  Mira’s eyes opened carefully. The Kitsune was still there, curled tightly against her, ten tails wrapped protectively around both of them like a nest. One ear rested just beneath Mira’s chin, twitching faintly as Eri dreamed.

  The purring was gone now, repced by slow, steady breathing.

  For a moment, Mira didn’t move. She just watched.

  In sleep, Eri looked even more vulnerable. Her face was rexed, free of fear, her brow smooth, her lips parted slightly. Without the tension of being awake, she seemed younger somehow. Smaller. Like someone who had finally put down something heavy.

  Mira’s chest tightened.

  She doesn’t get to stay like this, she thought.

  Not because this Ethan wasn’t real.

  But because the world wasn’t kind.

  A soft knock sounded at the door.

  Mira stiffened.

  “Ethan?” Mom’s voice drifted through the wood. Quiet, cautious. “It’s morning. Are you awake?”

  Eri stirred.

  Just a little.

  Her ears flicked. Her tails shifted. The warmth around Mira tightened reflexively, as if Eri sensed danger even in sleep.

  Mira leaned down, whispering urgently. “Ethan… hey. Wake up.”

  Eri’s eyes fluttered open.

  For half a second, she was confused. She looked at Mira, at the room, at the light creeping in through the curtains.

  Then memory hit her.

  Her ears fttened.

  Her breath hitched.

  The door rattled softly as Mom tried the handle. “Ethan? Sweetheart?”

  Eri froze.

  Her gaze darted to the nightstand.

  The neckce.

  Bck and white cord. The gem at its center glinting faintly in the morning light.

  Her entire body tensed like a startled animal.

  “No…” she whispered. “Not yet…”

  Mira swallowed. “They’re going to come in. If they see you like this—”

  “I know,” Eri said shakily. “I know.”

  Her eyes filled with tears.

  She looked down at her hands, at the soft fur on her arms, at the long, silver tails coiled around her and Mira. She pressed her face briefly into one of them, breathing in its warmth like she was trying to memorize it.

  “I just… I just got here,” she whispered. “I just felt okay.”

  Mira’s throat burned. “I’m sorry.”

  Eri reached for the neckce with trembling fingers.

  She hesitated.

  Her hand hovered over it, shaking.

  The door rattled again. Louder.

  “Ethan, I’m coming in,” Mom called.

  Eri squeezed her eyes shut.

  Then she slipped the neckce over her head.

  The change was not violent.

  But it was unbearable.

  Light fred softly, washing over her skin, her fur, her tails. Mira watched in stunned silence as the silver-white glow drew inward, folding into itself like something being pulled back behind a veil.

  The ears vanished.

  The tails dissolved into light.

  The warmth receded.

  Where Eri had been, curled and breathing and alive, there was now Ethan—lying in the same pce, eyes squeezed shut, tears leaking silently down his face.

  His hands were clenched in the sheets like he was still holding onto something that had been taken from him.

  Mira didn’t move.

  She couldn’t.

  Ethan gasped, dragging in air like he’d just been pulled out of deep water. His body curled in on itself instinctively, smaller now in a different way—no fur to hide behind, no tails to shield him.

  The door opened.

  Mom peeked in. “Ethan?”

  Mira reacted instantly, sitting up and blocking her view just enough to keep Ethan out of sight.

  “He’s here,” Mira said quickly. “He’s awake. He just… had a rough night.”

  Mom’s eyes flicked past her anyway, nding on the bed.

  On Ethan.

  On his tear-streaked face.

  “Oh, sweetheart,” Mom breathed, stepping inside. “What happened?”

  Ethan turned his face away.

  He couldn’t speak.

  Mira gnced back at him—really looked this time. At the way his shoulders were shaking. At the way his eyes were empty in a way they hadn’t been when he was Eri.

  She felt something break inside her.

  “I’ve got him,” Mira said gently to Mom. “Can you… give us a minute?”

  Mom hesitated—but something in Mira’s voice made her nod.

  “Just a minute,” she said, backing out and closing the door again.

  The room was quiet.

  Ethan y curled on the bed, staring at nothing.

  Mira moved back to him, sitting at his side. She didn’t touch him yet. She let him have his space.

  “You’re back,” she said softly. Not accusing. Just stating the truth.

  Ethan nodded once.

  His voice came out small and wrecked. “I hate it.”

  Mira closed her eyes.

  “I know.”

  He turned his face into the pillow. “It’s like… like being ripped in half. Like I was finally breathing and then—” He choked. “—and then I wasn’t allowed to anymore.”

  Mira reached out and rested her hand gently on his back.

  “You’re not gone,” she said. “She isn’t gone.”

  Ethan ughed bitterly. “Sure feels like it.”

  Mira squeezed his shoulder gently. “You’re still you. Both of you.”

  He didn’t answer.

  But he didn’t pull away either.

  Outside, the house was waking up.

  Inside the room, something precious had been put away—but not forgotten.

  Not by Ethan.

  And not by Mira.

  Luna_