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Yuki stared at his hands.
They were trembling again—only this time, it wasn't from fear. It was energy. Static danced across his fingertips, invisible, but he could feel it crawling beneath his skin like sparks itching to be unleashed.
He was alone in his room, the lights off, curtains drawn. The memory of that silver-furred creature haunted him still, its glowing eyes and the weight of its presence etched into his thoughts.
He reached out his hand instinctively, as if trying to recreate the feeling from before—and then, suddenly, the air shifted.
A gust of wind burst from nowhere, scattering his notebooks across the floor. His window rattled, though it was shut tight. Yuki stumbled back, heart pounding.
"What the hell was that…?" he whispered.
The wind wasn't natural. It had responded to him.
He closed his eyes and focused. That static—it wasn't just random. It was tied to something inside him. Something ancient.
Suddenly, an image flashed in his mind—a tail. Glowing. Ethereal. Then two. Then three. He saw himself, or something like him, standing in a void of swirling wind and fire, eyes glowing gold, surrounded by foxfire.
His eyes flew open. His breathing was sharp, his heart racing.
"No… no, that's not me."
But the wind surged again, this time swirling gently around him like it was waiting. It felt alive. It felt like it knew him.
He clenched his fists. "I don't know what's happening to me."
And in the mirror, just for a moment, his reflection wasn't human.
Golden eyes. White fox ears. A flicker of a tail.
Then gone.
Yuki stumbled back, slamming the mirror with his hand. "It's just my mind. It's just… it's just stress."
But deep down, he knew.
Something inside him was waking up. And it was hungry to be known.
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