The alarm goes off at 6:30 a.m. Like every Monday. Except this Monday, when I open my eyes, something feels wrong.
My ears itch.
Not like a normal itch. More like they grew overnight, like they aren't where they're supposed to be anymore. I reach up to my head, still half-asleep, and my fingers touch something soft. Pointed. Warm.
Fur.
I sit bolt upright. My heart is pounding so hard I can hear it in my temples. I run to the bathroom, stop in front of the mirror, and there they are—two fox ears. Reddish, with black tips, standing straight up from the top of my head. They move when I furrow my brow.
I scream.
Or, at least, I try to. What comes out of my mouth sounds more like a strangled squeak. My legs are shaking. I grab onto the sink and stare at my reflection like she's a stranger.
Mom shows up in thirty seconds. She opens the door, looks at me, looks at my ears, and—she doesn't scream. She doesn't panic. She closes the door behind her, sits on the edge of the bathtub, and sighs. A long sigh, like she's been waiting for this moment for years.
“Sakura. Sit down. I need to talk to you.”
She tells me everything. The bloodline. The fox blood that's run through our family for generations. The transformation that kicks in at sixteen—today, exactly. She speaks in a calm voice, almost too calm, and every word drops into my stomach like a stone.
“You'll only be able to transform on full-moon nights, from sunset to sunrise.”
I nod. I don't know why I'm nodding. None of this is normal.
Then she pulls a small box from the pocket of her robe. Inside is a necklace. A thin silver chain with a moon-shaped pendant. It looks old. It looks important.
“This necklace will let you become human again. You have to wear it all the time, Sakura. All the time.”
She takes my hands. Her fingers are cold.
“If you forget it even once… you'll stay a fox girl. Forever.”
Shivers run through my entire body. I feel my new ears flatten against my head, like they're scared too.
“Do you understand?”
I understand. I'm sixteen, I have fox ears, and I have a necklace I'm not allowed to lose. Happy birthday.
She helps me fasten the necklace. The metal is cold against my skin, then it warms up, and my ears disappear. Just like that. All at once. I touch the top of my head—nothing. Just my hair. My reflection in the mirror is normal again.
Almost normal.
Because now I know.
Mom hands me a beanie. “Just in case. If the necklace slips off, if something happens… cover up.”
I take the beanie. Gray, wool, completely plain. After the necklace, it becomes the most important thing in my life.
And then she tells me something else. Something I absolutely wasn't expecting.
“You're not going back to your old high school. I've enrolled you at Kitsune High School.”
I stare at her. “What's Kitsune High School?”
“A school for young people who have… abilities. Like you. You'll be safe there.”
Safe. As if I were in danger. As if the entire world had become a place where I no longer quite fit.
The bus ride takes twenty minutes. Twenty minutes during which I fidget with my necklace under my scarf and stare out the window without seeing anything. Kitsune High School looks like a normal high school from the outside. Brick, fences, a concrete courtyard. But the second I walk through the gate, I can tell something is different. A boy crosses the courtyard, levitating four inches off the ground. A girl makes flowers grow between the cracks in the pavement just by looking at them. Two guys throw lightning at each other—real lightning—while laughing.
No one pays any attention to them. That's normal here.
Me, on the other hand, everyone stares at. The new girl. Wearing a beanie in the middle of September.
I lower my eyes and walk fast.
The classroom is almost ordinary. Desks, chairs, a blackboard. The teacher, a tall man with yellow eyes—really yellow, like a cat's—introduces himself and announces the schedule for the term. And then he says a sentence that makes my blood run cold:
“Every student will give a presentation on their power. Origin, function, limitations. You'll present in alphabetical order.”
Alphabetical order. S for Sakura. I have a little time. But not that much.
The other students around me look relaxed. A boy casually spins a little flame on the tip of his finger. The girl next to me has hair that changes color depending on her mood—right now it's light blue, calm. Everyone knows what they are. Everyone is comfortable with their power.
I don't even know exactly what I am. And what I do know, I can't tell them. Not everything. Not the necklace. Not the curse.
The day passes in a fog of unfamiliar hallways and new faces. I don't talk to anyone. No one talks to me. That's the privilege of being inconspicuous: people forget you easily.
That evening, I go home. I collapse onto my bed without even taking off my shoes. The necklace rests against my chest, cold and reassuring at the same time.
I pick up my phone. I open Pinterest. I type “fox” into the search bar.
Dozens of images scroll past. Red foxes in the snow. Arctic foxes, white as the moon. Illustrations, watercolors, photos. I look at them one by one, for a long time, searching for something I can't put a name to.
What do I look like when I transform? Am I beautiful? Am I scary?
Am I still me?
It's one in the morning when I finally put my phone down. The screen goes dark. In the darkness of my room, I touch the necklace with my fingertips.
Don't forget it. Never forget it.
I close my eyes. Tomorrow, I'll have to go back. Tomorrow, I'll have to pretend.
But tonight, in the dark, I wonder what the full moon looks like.