“Ugh… I can feel people staring at me…” I muttered, clutching the edges of the dark cloak Yuzu gave me as I walked through the busy village street under the glaring morning sun. The fabric was soft but heavy, draping over me like a curtain trying its best to hide me from the world.

  I kept my head low, my hood casting a shadow over my face, but even then, I swore I could feel the weight of curious gazes from all directions. The chatter of the market, the clinking of coins, the scent of freshly baked bread, all of it should’ve distracted me, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.

  “You’re just imagining it, Miss Mashiro,” Ai’s small, smooth voice came from my shoulder, as calm and soothing as ever. She was perched comfortably in her nine-tailed white fox form, her little paws resting daintily on my shoulder like a fuzzy ornament. Her silvery-white fur shimmered faintly, but not enough to draw attention. “I cast an illusion spell on myself. To them, I look like a harmless squirrel.”

  “I know…” I said through gritted teeth, glancing nervously at a passing group of villagers who barely spared me a glance. Still, something felt off. “But that’s not what I’m seeing…”

  Ai tilted her little head slightly, her fox ears flicking at the sound of a distant bell. “What are you seeing then?” she asked curiously.

  “I’m seeing the kind of stares that pierce straight through your hood,” I replied, pulling the cloak tighter. “The ‘who’s that suspicious figure skulking around in broad daylight’ kind of stares…”

  “Maybe you’re just naturally suspicious-looking,” Ai teased.

  “Not helping,” I groaned.

  She gave a soft huff, like a puff of snow brushing my cheek. “You are walking around like a wanted criminal, though.”

  “Because I feel like one!” I hissed back under my breath. “Also, isn’t it ironic that I’m dressed like this to hide my identity, but the cloak actually makes me stand out more? Who even wears full cloaks in daylight unless they’re up to something?”

  “…Yuzu,” Ai said, deadpan.

  I sighed in defeat, adjusting the hood again. “Point taken.”

  We’d finally arrived in front of a modest-looking building that I hoped was a restaurant. I tilted my head up at the sign above the door, squinting as if somehow the squiggles and ornate symbols would suddenly translate themselves into Japanese. Or English. Or literally anything I could read. But no, still completely incomprehensible. Even so, the smell wafting out from the wooden-framed door, along with the cheerful noise of satisfied customers, made it pretty clear: if it looked like a restaurant, and smelled like one, it had to be one.

  “Welcome!” boomed a strong, cheerful voice the moment I stepped inside. The voice belonged to a man behind the counter, probably in his mid-thirties, with thick arms rolled up in sleeves and a face that looked like it had seen a lot of sun and laughter. His grin was wide and inviting, the kind that made you feel like a regular, even if it was your first time walking through the door.

  I glanced around the space as the scent of sizzling oil and fried onions hit me square in the face. There were wooden tables lined neatly in rows, with round stools filled with villagers chatting away and chewing happily. The whole place had a cozy, worn-in atmosphere. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it radiated comfort like the kind of place where even if you didn’t know the menu, you’d still leave full and happy.

  There didn’t seem to be a line, so I made my way to the counter, my boots tapping softly against the stone floor. Ai, still in her adorable fox form, remained perched on my shoulder like a fashion accessory that just happened to breathe.

  “A breakfast for a little lady and her squirrel?” the man asked, raising an amused eyebrow as his smile grew even wider.

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  “Yes,” I replied, adjusting my hood slightly, “and one more for a lazy cat.”

  The man chuckled, crossing his burly arms. “A squirrel and a cat, huh? Sounds like the beginning of a joke. You want it here or packed?”

  “Could you please put it as a lunch box?” I asked, already imagining Ai handing it off to Yuki like some kind of peace offering-slash-bribe.

  “Sure thing! Gonna cost ya a bit extra, though,” he said as he turned, pulling up his sleeves like he was about to go to war in the kitchen. “So, what’ll it be?”

  “Um… we’ll have your recommendations. Three portions, please,” I said, hoping he’d pick something good.

  “Wow,” he laughed, raising his eyebrows in mock surprise, “must be one hungry squirrel and cat.”

  With a grin, he waved his hand casually. “Three omelette eggs onion it is! I’ll cook ’em up fresh for ya.” Then he disappeared behind a doorway, already calling out orders in a sing-song voice to someone deeper inside.

  I let out a breath, relaxing just a little. For once, something felt… normal. Almost like I was just another traveler stopping by for a meal, not a fox-eared girl from another world trying to keep a low profile.

  I made my way to an empty stool tucked away at a quiet table near the window, letting the gentle morning light spill over me as I sat down. The spot gave me a clear view of the street outside, where villagers strolled along with baskets, wagons, and sleepy faces. I rested my chin on my hand, idly humming the Luminous Dream soundtrack in my head, an old habit that always helped me relax when days feel slow. The melody of the main theme danced through my thoughts, soft and nostalgic.

  But then, my tune came to a screeching halt. Through the window, I caught sight of two cloaked figures walking down the street.

  My eyes narrowed instinctively as I tried to make out their faces beneath their hoods. One of them… her profile, the way she moved, there was no mistaking it. That was Yuzu. Her graceful, lazy steps, the slight tilt of her head, the way her long bangs peeked out from under her hood, undeniably her.

  But the figure beside her was a mystery. They were slightly taller, wrapped in a white cloak that fluttered gently behind them with each step. In contrast to Yuzu’s pitch-black attire, this figure looked like a shadow cast in reverse. Something about them felt… off. I couldn’t shake the sense of familiarity, yet I couldn’t place it either.

  Without thinking, I pushed myself off the stool, the legs scraping quietly against the floor, and made a beeline for the door. My heart pounded, adrenaline sparking in my limbs as I flung the restaurant door open, ready to call out to Yuzu.

  But just as I stepped outside, a firm grip snatched my arm.

  I was yanked backward with surprising force, stumbling slightly as I was pulled right back into the restaurant. The door slammed shut behind me, the sunlight disappearing in an instant. I gasped, spinning around to see who had grabbed me, my pulse still racing.

  "Are you crazy?!" The scolding voice snapped me out of my shock, delicate but sharp like the crack of fresh ice. I turned quickly and found myself face to face with a young woman. Adorable, yes, but she had a presence that felt anything but fragile. Her age was hard to pin down, though I’d guess she was in her mid-twenties. She wore a dark cloak nearly identical to mine, but the way she carried herself, hands on her hips, lips pressed into a line made her feel much taller than she actually was.

  Her bangs were a soft shade of blonde, almost honey-like, and they framed her porcelain face just enough to let a flicker of attitude shine through.

  "They were fox kins!" she said again, glaring at me like I’d just offended every forest in existence.

  "Um... Hi?" I said sheepishly, trying to play it cool even though I was mentally spiraling.

  "Hi," she replied flatly, crossing her arms. "I didn’t expect to see a fellow elf here. I thought you’d have enough common sense to know not every cloaked figure is a friendly elf just because you are. Guess I was wrong."

  My brain stalled for a second, replaying her words. Fellow elf? Did she just call me "Elf...?" I muttered dumbly.

  And there it was. A clear glimpse of her pointed ears poking out from under her flowing blonde hair as she turned her head. No doubt about it now. She was an elf. Which meant…

  Wait.

  Does that mean… I’m an elf too?!

  "Anyway," she sighed, brushing her hair back, "it looks like you’re stuck in this human village too, huh? At least you’ve got a squirrel spirit with you. That’s more than I can say for myself."

  Her eyes darted toward Ai, who was still sitting primly on my shoulder, tail curled neatly around her feet. Ai tilted her head, visibly confused.

  "Miss Mashiro, what is she saying?" Ai asked, her voice soft but wary. "What language are you two using? I can't pick up any... but it sounds elvish."

  My heart skipped a beat. Elvish? Was that what I’d just spoken?

  I looked back at the woman and then at Ai, and realization slowly crept in.

  “…I think I might be speaking elvish,” I whispered, more to myself than to anyone else.

  What was happening to me?