The morning light stretched across the room as Eri lingered in her bed, tails curled tightly around her. Mira sat quietly nearby, keeping watch, offering soft words and steady presence. For the first few minutes, the house felt like a safe bubble: no demands, no expectations, no pressing need to pretend to be Ethan.

  But bubbles have a way of bursting.

  Downstairs, the sound of Yui giggling rang out, followed almost immediately by Mom’s voice calling up the stairs. “Ethan, breakfast! Come on, you’re going to be te!”

  Eri froze, ears twitching violently. Her tails wrapped tighter around her, brushing against each other, rustling softly. I can’t. I can’t go down there like this. I can’t be Ethan.

  Mira gave her a quiet nudge with a finger. “You don’t have to respond right away. Just… breathe. We’ll figure something out.”

  Eri’s stomach twisted. She didn’t need guidance; she needed a miracle. Her tails shivered as she tried to think. If she went downstairs, she’d have to be Ethan again. The pull of the neckce now broken, loomed like a shadow over her. And she couldn’t risk slipping.

  But if she didn’t go down… the confrontation with Mom and Yui was inevitable.

  The first knock at her door sent her heart into her throat. “Ethan? Breakfast’s ready,” Mom’s voice echoed, patient but firm.

  Eri curled tighter, tails brushing against her pillow. No. Not today. Not like this.

  “Don’t open it,” Mira whispered softly, hand resting gently on her shoulder. “Stay here. We can—”

  Another knock, louder this time. “Ethan! Come on, or Yui will eat everything without you!”

  Eri groaned, burying her face in the sheets. Her mind raced. The desire to retreat completely, to stay curled in her tail cocoon, battled against the growing tension below.

  Footsteps came up the stairs—Mom and Yui, both persistent, both clearly suspicious. Eri’s ears fttened. Her tails twitched violently, brushing against each other in agitation. She tried to pull them closer, to hide the evidence of who she really was, but even that felt futile.

  “Ethan… are you in there?” Mom called, voice sharper now. “Yui’s waiting! This isn’t funny!”

  Eri’s heart pounded. Her mind shouted, If they see me… they’ll freak out. They’ll never understand. I can’t. I can’t.

  The doorknob rattled. Mom was trying to open it, her tone tinged with worry and frustration. Yui peered around her, tilting her head, looking confused. “Ethan? Why won’t you come out?”

  Eri’s tails shivered again. She wanted to run, to curl deeper into the bed, to hide herself completely. But there was nowhere to go—no hiding pce that could conceal ten long, white tails and twitching ears.

  Panic cwed at her chest. Her mind fshed to the broken neckce st night, the taste of freedom, the warmth of being Eri. That sensation made her chest ache even more, sharpened the fear.

  Mira’s hand tightened slightly on her shoulder. “Listen to me. Whatever happens, I’ve got you. Okay? Just… stay calm.”

  Eri nodded shakily, though her ears fttened further. She could hear Mom’s footsteps retreating briefly, probably to find something to force the door open with. Yui’s voice, small but insistent, called from just beyond the hall. “Ethan, please! Don’t be mean! Come out!”

  The walls of the room felt like they were closing in. Every second was a battle: the pull of Eri, the expectations of being Ethan, the fear of discovery, and the rising panic that her mom or Yui could see the tails—or worse, the ears flicking at every sound.

  Her tail tips twitched uncontrolbly. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t…

  Mom’s voice rose again, sharper, more worried. “Ethan! Stop hiding! Open this door right now!”

  Eri yelped softly in fright, ears flicking back. Her tails coiled tighter around her body, brushing against the pillow as she tried to shrink herself down. Every instinct screamed to run, to escape into the safety of the bedroom and curl further into herself—but that was futile. The moment Mom or Yui forced the door, the truth would be undeniable.

  Mira’s voice cut through the panic, soft but commanding. “Eri! Look at me. You’re safe. You don’t have to go downstairs yet.”

  Eri’s eyes met Mira’s. The calm in her sister’s gaze was like a lifeline, anchoring her as the storm outside the door raged. She let herself take a slow, shuddering breath, trying to steady the tremor of her tails, the twitching of her ears.

  Mom’s footsteps approached again, heavier now, a sign she was ready to force entry. Yui’s small voice echoed beside her. “Ethan! Please!”

  Eri froze. Every tail stiffened. The room felt unbearably tight. She pressed her face against the pillow, tail-tip brushing her cheek, wishing desperately for a solution, for any way to stop the inevitable confrontation.

  And then Mira leaned closer, voice calm, firm. “Eri… listen. You have to move. We can’t stay like this forever. But we can do it together.”

  Eri’s tail tips twitched again, conflicted between wanting to obey and wanting to hide forever. Her ears flicked toward the door, catching the sound of Mom fumbling with something metal—probably a hairpin or a bobby pin, a failed attempt to pick the lock. Panic surged.

  They’re coming in. They’re going to see me. They’re going to know.

  Her body stiffened. Her tails coiled tighter, brushing against each other in agitation. The pull of Eri surged, insistent, demanding freedom, but the consequences loomed rger than ever.

  Mira’s hand brushed softly along one of her ears. “It’s okay. Whatever happens, I’ve got you. I’ll help.”

  Eri’s chest ached. Relief and terror battled, swirling together as she curled tighter into herself, tails wrapping protectively, ears flicking nervously.

  The door rattled again, more insistently. Mom’s voice, sharp with worry and frustration: “Ethan! Open this door now!”

  Eri’s mind spun. She couldn’t leave. She couldn’t reveal herself. She couldn’t go back to being Ethan. And she couldn’t stay curled like this forever.