Mom didn’t leave the room right away.

  She sat with Eri a while longer, letting the quiet settle into something real. Eri’s breathing had evened out, her tails lying comfortably instead of coiled tight, one draped zily over Mira’s knee, another resting against Mom’s side. Her ears flicked now and then, but not in fear—just awareness.

  Eventually, Mom gnced toward the door.

  “Okay,” she said softly. “Next step.”

  Eri tensed just a little. Her tails shifted, the tips brushing together.

  Mira noticed immediately. “Hey. Easy. You’re okay.”

  Eri nodded, swallowing. “Is it… Yui?”

  Mom nodded back. “Yeah. And we’re going to do this carefully.”

  She stood, smoothing her shirt like she needed the grounding. Before opening the door, she turned back to Eri and crouched slightly so they were eye level.

  “Listen to me,” Mom said gently. “Yui loves you. She looks up to you. This doesn’t change that.”

  Eri’s ears dipped. “What if I scare her?”

  Mom smiled faintly. “Then we’ll handle it. Together.”

  Mira squeezed Eri’s shoulder. “And if she tries to climb you like a jungle gym, that’s on you.”

  Eri let out a tiny huff of nervous ughter.

  Mom opened the door and stepped into the hallway, closing it behind her.

  Eri could hear her voice clearly now—soft, deliberate.

  “Yui? Sweetheart? Can you come here for a minute?”

  Small footsteps padded closer. “Am I in trouble?”

  “No, honey,” Mom said quickly. “You’re not in trouble. But I need you to listen to me very carefully, okay?”

  A pause.

  “…Okay.”

  Mom lowered herself to Yui’s level. “You’re about to see something surprising. And maybe confusing. But I need you not to yell, and not to run, and definitely not to freak out.”

  Yui frowned. “Like when the toaster caught on fire?”

  “More surprising than that,” Mom said, managing a small smile. “But no one is hurt. And Ethan is safe.”

  That got Yui’s attention. “Ethan’s sick?”

  “No,” Mom said. “Just… different. In a way you didn’t know about yet.”

  Another pause.

  “…Is it a secret?”

  Mom hesitated, then nodded. “Yes. One we trust you with.”

  Yui straightened a little at that, pride flickering across her face. “I’m good at secrets.”

  “I know,” Mom said, brushing her hair back. “Come on.”

  Mom knocked gently on the door and opened it.

  Yui peeked around her mother’s leg.

  Her eyes nded on the bed.

  On Eri.

  On the ears.

  On the tails.

  She froze.

  For one terrifying second, Eri thought this was it—that scream, that panic, that recoil she’d feared was coming.

  Instead, Yui blinked.

  Once.

  Twice.

  “…Whoa.”

  Eri’s ears fttened automatically. Her tails twitched, betraying her nerves.

  Mom stayed calm. “Yui, this is still Ethan. Just… also Eri.”

  Yui stepped forward slowly, head tilted, eyes wide—not afraid, just intensely curious.

  “Are those… real?” she asked.

  Eri nodded, voice quiet. “Yeah.”

  Yui took another step closer.

  Mira leaned subtly forward, ready to intervene if needed.

  Yui stopped at the edge of the bed, staring openly now. Her gaze followed the curve of one tail, then another… then all ten.

  “…You have a lot,” she said with awe.

  Eri swallowed. “I know.”

  Yui reached out—

  Mom gently caught her wrist. “Ask first.”

  Yui nodded immediately and looked up at Eri. “Can I touch them?”

  Eri hesitated.

  Her instincts warred—part of her wanted to curl away, hide them again. Another part remembered the warmth from earlier, the comfort of being accepted.

  She nodded. “Okay. Just… gentle.”

  Yui’s face lit up like she’d just been handed a treasure.

  She reached out carefully and brushed her fingers along the nearest tail.

  Her gasp was instantaneous.

  “It’s SO SOFT.”

  Her hands went back immediately.

  Then forward again.

  Then both hands.

  “Yui,” Mom warned, though there was ughter in her voice now.

  “I’m being gentle!” Yui insisted, already petting with exaggerated care. “It’s like a cloud! Or—no—like ten clouds!”

  Eri felt it then—the reaction she couldn’t stop.

  Her shoulders rexed.

  Her breathing softened.

  And a low, unmistakable purr vibrated through her chest.

  Yui froze.

  Her eyes went huge.

  “…Did you just make a kitty noise?”

  Eri’s face went bright red. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

  “That’s AWESOME,” Yui interrupted, immediately sitting on the bed and carefully gathering a tail into her p. “Do it again.”

  Mira ughed openly now. “Oh no. We’ve lost her.”

  Eri tried to protest, but the combination of gentle hands and the pure, unfiltered joy on Yui’s face made it impossible to stay tense. Her tails shifted on their own, some curling closer, one brushing against Yui’s shoulder.

  Yui giggled. “They’re moving! Mom!”

  “I see that,” Mom said, eyes shining, hand pressed to her mouth as she watched the scene unfold. “I really see that.”

  Yui leaned forward, resting her cheek against one of the tails. “Can I keep one?”

  “No,” Mom said automatically.

  “Aww.”

  “You can sit with her,” Mom amended.

  “YES.”

  Yui immediately scooted closer to Eri, who stiffened for half a second before rexing again as Yui carefully leaned against her side, still holding onto the tail like it might float away.

  Eri looked helplessly at Mira. “She’s… very attached.”

  Mira grinned. “You’re doomed.”

  Yui yawned suddenly, the excitement catching up to her. She curled slightly, still clutching the tail. “You’re warm,” she murmured. “And fluffy.”

  Eri felt something crack open in her chest.

  Mom stepped closer and rested a hand on Eri’s shoulder. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “For trusting us.”

  Eri nodded, unable to speak around the emotion clogging her throat.

  Yui shifted again, hugging the tail tighter. “Can Ethan, Well now I should call her Eri, stay like this forever?”

  The question hung in the air.

  Mom didn’t answer right away processing the question.

  “Yes, she can.”

  Eri closed her eyes for a moment, purring softly as Yui’s breathing evened out.

  She wasn’t hiding.

  She wasn’t running.

  She was just… home.

  And maybe—just maybe—that was enough to start with.