The weekend arrived like a threat.

  Ethan felt it in the way the house was brighter than usual, in the way the morning light seemed too loud, too cheerful, spilling through the windows as if daring him to pretend everything was fine.

  He y on his bed, staring at the ceiling, the neckce resting cold against his colrbone.

  Eri was right there.

  So close.

  And yet completely unreachable.

  Downstairs, he could hear Mom moving around, cupboards opening and closing, the hum of her voice as she talked to Yui about something excitedly. Mira’s footsteps passed his door once, then again.

  “Ethan!” Mom called. “Come down here a minute!”

  His stomach sank.

  He rolled onto his side, fingers curling around the neckce before forcing himself to let go. If he transformed now, it would only make everything worse. He couldn’t disappear every time things got hard.

  He didn’t want to be Ethan.

  But he had to be.

  When he finally went downstairs, the kitchen was alive in a way it hadn’t been all week. Mom stood by the counter with her phone out, smiling brightly. Yui was sitting on a stool swinging her legs, and Mira leaned against the fridge with crossed arms, watching everything quietly.

  “I’ve got an idea,” Mom announced.

  Ethan already didn’t like the sound of that.

  “I was thinking,” she continued, “we’ve all had a pretty rough week. So I booked us a one-day family trip. Just something small. A little getaway. We’ll leave this morning and come back tonight.”

  Ethan froze.

  “A… trip?” he said.

  “Yep! There’s this scenic keside town a couple hours away. Shops, walking paths, a nice café by the water. We’ll drive there, spend the day, and be back by bedtime.”

  Drive.

  Spend the day.

  No locked bedroom.

  No privacy.

  No Eri.

  His chest tightened.

  “That sounds fun,” Yui said immediately.

  Mira’s eyes flicked to Ethan, just for a second. She saw it—the way his shoulders stiffened, the way the color drained from his face.

  Mom didn’t.

  “I thought it would be good for all of us,” she said warmly. “Fresh air. No stress. What do you think, Ethan?”

  He swallowed.

  He wanted to say no.

  He wanted to scream no.

  But how could he?

  He forced a small nod. “Yeah. Sure.”

  Mira frowned.

  “Great!” Mom cpped her hands. “Go get dressed. We’ll leave in about thirty minutes.”

  Thirty minutes.

  Ethan walked back to his room like he was heading to an execution.

  The door closed behind him, and the quiet crashed down around him. He leaned against it, breathing hard, his hand already clutching the neckce again.

  A whole day.

  A car.

  Public pces.

  People.

  Eyes.

  No safe pce to change.

  No way to be Eri.

  He slid down to the floor and hugged his knees.

  “She’s going to suffocate in there,” he whispered to himself. “I’m going to suffocate.”

  The neckce felt heavier than ever.

  He changed clothes mechanically—jeans, hoodie, sneakers. Normal. Safe. Invisible. Every piece of fabric felt like it was being yered over something he wasn’t allowed to show.

  A knock sounded at the door.

  “Ethan?” Mira’s voice. Soft.

  He opened it.

  She looked at him for a long moment, reading his face like a book he hadn’t meant to hand over.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  He shook his head.

  Mira stepped inside and closed the door behind her. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

  His eyes burned. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this,” he said quietly. “All day. Trapped. I won’t even be able to breathe.”

  Mira hesitated, then reached out and gently touched the neckce at his chest.

  “She’s still here,” she said.

  “But she can’t come out,” Ethan whispered. “Not in a car. Not in public. Not with Mom and Yui right there. It’s like—like locking her in a box and driving away with the key.”

  Mira’s jaw tightened.

  “I’ll try to get you space,” she said. “Bathroom breaks. Walks. Anything. We’ll figure something out.”

  Ethan looked at her with desperate hope. “You promise?”

  She nodded. “I promise.”

  Mom called from downstairs, “Everyone ready?”

  Mira gave Ethan a small, steadying smile. “We’ll survive today. Together.”

  He wasn’t sure he believed it.

  But it was all he had.

  The car ride began not long after.

  Ethan sat in the back seat, staring out the window as the neighborhood slipped away and trees took its pce. The neckce rested under his hoodie, hidden but burning against his skin.

  Eri felt so close he could almost feel her ears brushing his cheeks.

  Almost.

  And that was somehow worse.

  As the road stretched on, one terrible thought kept repeating in his mind:

  There is nowhere to hide.

  The car rolled to a slow stop.

  Ethan barely noticed at first.

  He had been staring out the window so hard that the world had turned blurry—trees, sky, road all melting together as if he could just will himself somewhere else. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere safe. Somewhere with tails and warmth and soft ears instead of this tight, aching chest.

  “Alright, everyone,” Mom said brightly. “We’re here!”

  The words hit Ethan like a physical blow.

  Here.

  The doors unlocked with a series of dull clicks, and suddenly the outside world was right there—sunlight, voices, the faint sound of water from the nearby ke. People were already walking past, ughing, carrying shopping bags, pointing at little stands and cafés.

  Too many people.

  Too many eyes.

  Ethan didn’t move.

  “Ethan?” Yui said, already halfway out of the car. “Aren’t you getting out?”

  He forced himself to open the door. The moment his foot hit the pavement, something in him shrank. The open air felt hostile, like it could see straight through him.

  Mira got out st and immediately stayed close to him.

  “You’re okay,” she murmured under her breath so only he could hear. “Just breathe.”

  Ethan nodded, though it didn’t really help.

  The keside town was beautiful in a way that almost hurt. Wooden walkways, small colorful shops, strings of lights even though it was still day. The ke glimmered through the gaps between buildings like a sheet of gss.

  Normally, it would have been nice.

  Right now, it felt like a nightmare.

  Mom led them toward the main street, already chatting about where they could eat first. Yui darted ahead, excited by everything. Mira stayed at Ethan’s side like a quiet shadow.

  With every step, Ethan felt more wrong.

  Every ugh from a stranger felt too loud.

  Every passing gnce felt like it lingered too long.

  Every time the wind brushed his hoodie, he half-expected it to catch on something that wasn’t there—fur, tails, ears—and expose him.

  Eri stirred inside him.

  Not painfully.

  Longingly.

  Like a warm, living thing pressing against the inside of his ribs, asking to be let out.

  He squeezed his eyes shut for a second.

  Not here.

  They passed a shop with a mirrored window, and Ethan caught his reflection.

  Ethan.

  Messy hair. Tired eyes. A boy who looked ordinary and exhausted.

  It felt like seeing a stranger wearing his face.

  His breathing hitched.

  Mira noticed immediately. “Hey,” she said softly. “Do you need a second?”

  “I—” He didn’t even know how to finish that sentence.

  Mom turned back. “What’s wrong, Ethan?”

  He forced his voice steady. “Nothing. Just… crowded.”

  “Well, we can walk by the water,” Mom said. “It’s quieter there.”

  They turned toward the keside path.

  It was better.

  Not quiet—but less suffocating. The ke stretched wide and blue, ducks floating zily, sunlight shimmering across the surface. A few benches were scattered along the path, and people strolled by in small groups.

  Ethan’s hands kept drifting to his chest, to the neckce hidden under his hoodie.

  He wanted it so badly.

  Not the gem.

  Her.

  Eri.

  The way she moved. The way the world felt softer when he was her. The way he didn’t have to fight himself just to exist.

  He was doing that now—fighting every second.

  Mira gently nudged him toward a bench. “Sit for a minute.”

  He sank down, hunched forward, elbows on his knees.

  Mom and Yui stood a few steps away, looking out at the ke. Mira stayed with him.

  “You’re holding it in too tight,” she whispered.

  “I don’t have a choice,” Ethan said.

  His eyes were wet, and he hated that too.

  “I feel like she’s screaming,” he admitted. “Like she’s trapped and I’m just pretending she doesn’t exist.”

  Mira’s hand hovered, then rested lightly on his shoulder.

  “She’s not gone,” she said. “She’s just waiting.”

  “How long?” he asked bitterly. “All day? Until I get back home? What if I can’t do it that long?”

  Mira didn’t have an answer.

  A group of people walked past, ughing loudly. Ethan flinched at the sound, shrinking into himself.

  Everything felt like it was pressing in on him.

  The sky was too open.

  The town was too alive.

  His body was too wrong.

  “I hate this,” he whispered. “I hate being like this.”

  Mira leaned closer. “You don’t hate being her. You hate being forced not to be.”

  That hit harder than anything else had all day.

  Ethan pressed his face into his hands, shoulders shaking.

  Somewhere inside, Eri curled tighter around his heart, silent but aching.

  And all he could do was sit there on that bench, in the middle of a beautiful town full of strangers, feeling like he was disappearing.

  Slowly.

  Quietly.

  With nowhere to run.