Monday came too fast.

  It always did after a weekend that felt like it had shifted something permanent.

  Eri stood in front of her mirror long before her arm actually went off. Pale early-morning light filtered through the curtains, painting her room in cool gray-blue.

  She stared at herself.

  At the ears that twitched faintly with every distant sound.

  At the tails that moved behind her in slow, thoughtful arcs.

  At the face that still sometimes felt unfamiliar when she looked too long.

  Two weeks.

  Two weeks since Ethan stopped existing.

  Two weeks since she stopped answering to that name.

  Two weeks since Becca started noticing the hole where someone used to stand.

  Her ears lowered slightly.

  She didn’t miss who she’d been.

  Not really.

  But that didn’t mean the absence wasn’t loud.

  A soft knock came from her door.

  “Come in,” she said quietly.

  Mira slipped inside, already dressed for school, backpack slung over one shoulder.

  “You’re doing the existential stare again,” Mira observed.

  “I am not.”

  “You are.”

  Eri exhaled through her nose and turned back toward her dresser.

  Mira leaned against the wall.

  “She’s going to push harder,” Mira said.

  Eri didn’t pretend not to know who she meant.

  “I know.”

  “Are you ready for that?”

  Eri paused mid-motion.

  Her tails stilled.

  “…I don’t know.”

  That was the most honest answer she could give.

  Mira studied her for a moment.

  “You’re not him anymore,” she said pinly.

  The words nded heavier than they should have.

  “I know.”

  “And even if she digs, she’s digging for someone who doesn’t exist.”

  Eri swallowed.

  That was the complicated part.

  Because Ethan had existed.

  He had walked those halls.

  Sat in those csses.

  Stared at her reflection in cssroom windows and felt wrong in ways he didn’t have words for.

  He had asked questions.

  Watched.

  Obsessed.

  Trying to understand something he didn’t realize he was already becoming.

  And then—

  Something changed.

  Something awakened.

  And now Ethan was gone.

  But the paperwork hadn’t caught up with reality.

  Mira stepped forward and gently flicked one of Eri’s ears.

  “You’re spiraling again.”

  Eri blinked.

  “Stop that.”

  “Then stop overthinking.”

  Eri grabbed her hoodie and slipped it on.

  “Easy for you to say.”

  Mira smiled faintly.

  “Yeah. It is.”

  School felt different the second she stepped into the hallway.

  Not because anyone was openly staring.

  Not because there were whispers.

  But because she knew.

  She knew there was someone watching more carefully now.

  She spotted Alex by the lockers.

  He looked tired.

  When he saw her, though, his expression softened immediately.

  “Morning,” he said.

  “Morning.”

  They stood closer than usual.

  Not touching.

  But aligned.

  “Becca cornered me Saturday evening,” he murmured quietly.

  Her ears twitched.

  “After the aquarium?”

  “Yeah.”

  Her stomach tightened.

  “What did she say?”

  “She asked if Ethan ever mentioned you.”

  Eri’s heart thudded.

  “And?”

  “I said not really.”

  That wasn’t entirely a lie.

  Ethan hadn’t mentioned her to Alex.

  Ethan was her.

  But that wasn’t something anyone could understand.

  Her tails shifted faintly behind her.

  “She thinks I know more than I’m saying,” Alex added.

  “You do.”

  “Yeah.”

  They shared a look.

  Heavy.

  Complicated.

  “Are you okay?” he asked softly.

  The question hit deeper than usual.

  She hesitated.

  “…Mostly.”

  He reached out like he was going to brush her sleeve—

  Then stopped himself.

  Hallway.

  Eyes.

  Instead, he leaned slightly closer.

  “She won’t figure it out,” he said quietly.

  Eri wasn’t so sure.

  By lunch, the tension had sharpened.

  It wasn’t dramatic.

  Just present.

  Becca wasn’t at her usual table.

  That alone was unusual.

  “She’s pnning something,” Mira muttered under her breath.

  “You don’t know that,” Eri replied.

  Mira raised an eyebrow.

  “Please.”

  Alex shifted slightly beside her.

  “I haven’t seen her all morning.”

  That was worse.

  Eri’s ears tilted back slightly.

  Then—

  “There you are.”

  Becca’s voice.

  Calm.

  Almost pleasant.

  Eri turned slowly.

  Becca stood at the end of the table, tray untouched.

  Her eyes locked onto Eri first.

  Then Alex.

  “Can we talk?” Becca asked.

  Alex stiffened slightly.

  “About?”

  “Ethan.”

  The cafeteria noise seemed to dull around them.

  Eri kept her breathing even.

  “Did you find something?” Alex asked carefully.

  Becca didn’t sit.

  She stayed standing.

  “I checked his socials.”

  Eri’s fingers tightened under the table.

  “Okay,” Alex said evenly.

  “They’re still active.”

  Silence.

  Eri’s ears twitched involuntarily.

  Becca noticed.

  “Posts from two weeks ago,” she continued. “Then nothing.”

  “That’s not that weird,” Alex said.

  “It is when the posts were scheduled.”

  That made both of them pause.

  “Scheduled?” Eri asked before she could stop herself.

  Becca’s eyes snapped to her.

  “Yeah.”

  Eri forced her expression to remain neutral.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I messaged him,” Becca replied. “And it marked as delivered.”

  Her stomach dropped.

  Of course it had.

  The account still existed.

  No one had deleted it.

  No one had thought to.

  “People don’t just vanish,” Becca said quietly.

  Eri held her gaze.

  Sometimes they do.

  But she couldn’t say that.

  Becca stepped closer to the table.

  “You were around him a lot that week before he vanished,” she said to Alex.

  Not accusing.

  But pointed.

  Alex met her eyes steadily.

  “He was in the same csses as me.”

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  The air shifted.

  Alex stood slightly.

  “Okay. What are you implying?”

  Becca looked between them.

  “I’m implying that something happened.”

  Something had.

  Just not what she thought.

  Eri felt a strange mix of guilt and irritation twist together in her chest.

  “You’re chasing a theory,” she said carefully.

  “Maybe,” Becca replied. “But I don’t like missing pieces.”

  Her gaze softened slightly.

  “He wasn’t a great person,” she admitted. “But he was still… there.”

  The word lingered.

  There.

  Eri swallowed.

  “I don’t know what you want us to say,” Alex said.

  Becca studied him for a long moment.

  Then Eri.

  “You don’t seem surprised he’s gone,” she said quietly.

  That struck too close.

  Eri’s ears dipped before she could stop them.

  “I didn’t know him,” she replied evenly.

  That was a lie.

  Of course, she knew him she was him.

  Becca’s eyes flicked to her tails briefly.

  Then back to her face.

  Something clicked behind her expression.

  Not understanding.

  But suspicion evolving.

  “You’re different,” Becca said suddenly.

  The statement hung strange and vague.

  Eri felt her pulse in her throat.

  “…What?”

  “You weren’t like this at the beginning of when you came.”

  Alex went rigid.

  “In what way?” he asked, sharper now.

  Becca shook her head slightly.

  “I don’t know.”

  But she did.

  She just couldn’t articute it.

  Different posture.

  Different energy.

  Different presence.

  Ethan had walked like he was hiding something.

  Eri didn’t.

  Not in the same way.

  But the shift had been abrupt.

  Too abrupt.

  Becca stepped back finally.

  “I’m not accusing you,” she said again.

  But she was close.

  “I just don’t think this is random.”

  She picked up her tray.

  “And I’m going to keep looking.”

  Then she walked away.

  The cafeteria noise rushed back in like a wave.

  Eri exhaled slowly.

  Her tails trembled faintly before settling.

  “She’s connecting things,” Alex muttered.

  “Not the right things,” Mira added from across the table.

  “But things,” Alex replied.

  Eri stared down at her hands.

  Two weeks.

  And the ghost of Ethan was still sitting in empty seats.

  Still showing up in conversations.

  Still casting shadows she couldn’t fully step out of.

  “She won’t find proof,” Mira said confidently.

  Eri wasn’t as sure.

  Because the truth wasn’t clean.

  It wasn’t a neat disappearance.

  It was a transformation.

  A repcement.

  A becoming.

  And somewhere deep down—

  A part of her wondered if Becca was less afraid of a disappearance…

  And more unsettled by the idea that Ethan hadn’t vanished at all.

  That he had simply—

  Changed.

  The final bell rang hours ter, but the weight lingered.

  As Eri stepped outside with Alex, the air felt colder than it should have.

  “She’s not going to stop,” he said quietly.

  “No,” Eri agreed.

  Her ears tilted slightly back.

  “But she’s looking for the wrong person.”

  Alex gnced at her.

  She held his gaze.

  “Ethan isn’t missing,” she said softly.

  “He’s just… not him anymore.”

  The words were quiet.

  Almost lost to the wind.

  But they felt truer than anything else that day.

  And somewhere across campus—

  Becca stood alone near the parking lot.

  Scrolling.

  Digging.

  Looking for someone who had already become someone else.

  Luna_