I chewed on the dry bread, trying to make sense of Yuzu’s answer. “Bery humans?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow. “That’s… not an answer.”

  Yuzu glanced toward the door, then back at me, her black fox ears twitching slightly. “Bery humans. Bery look. Bery sus,” she said simply, crossing her arms.

  I swallowed my bite, taking a moment to process her words. “…You mean, there are too many humans downstairs, and they might get suspicious of us?”

  Yuzu nodded. “Bery correct.”

  I sighed, leaning back against the bed. “But we already got past the gate. No one suspected anything, right?”

  “Yuzu bery A-rank. They bery not look. But…” Yuzu trailed off, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Mashiro bery different.”

  I blinked. “Different how?”

  Yuzu pointed a finger at my face. “Bery look. Bery special.”

  I felt my stomach sink slightly. Right. Even with the cloak, I was still different. My white hair, my unnatural ears, things that could easily make me stand out. If people got too curious, it could turn into trouble.

  I sighed, leaning back against the headboard. “So what? We’re wearing cloaks, right? No one’s gonna know we’re fox-kin unless we start waving our tails around.”

  Yuzu remained quiet for a moment, then finally spoke. “Mashiro bery no understand.” Her voice was calm, but there was a certain weight to it. She looked at me, her dark eyes serious. “Humans bery not same as fox-kin.”

  I tilted my head. “Well, obviously—”

  “Humans bery afraid of different.” Yuzu interrupted, her gaze unwavering. “Even if they no see tails, they see eyes. See ears. See bery different.”

  I frowned, realizing what she meant. Even though we were hiding our fox traits, people would still notice if they looked closely enough. And in a place where humans were the majority, anything “different” could easily turn into suspicion.

  “…Has something happened before?” I asked, my voice quieter now.

  Yuzu didn’t answer right away. She looked down, playing with a loose thread on her sleeve. Then, she simply muttered, “Bery no matter. Yuzu bery used to it.”

  I felt a strange pang in my chest at that. Used to it. The way she said it made me wonder just how many times she had experienced something unpleasant.

  Letting out a slow breath, I nodded. “Alright. We’ll just eat here, then.”

  Yuzu’s ears twitched, and she gave a small smile. “Mashiro bery good.”

  I huffed. “Mashiro bery still hungry.”

  Yuzu let out a small chuckle and reached into her inventory again. This time, she pulled out a small pouch and tossed it onto my lap. When I opened it, I found a handful of dried fruits inside.

  “Bery eat,” she said simply.

  I looked down at the pouch, then back up at Yuzu. I couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, yeah. Bery eat.”

  After finishing the last bite of my dry bread, I let out a long yawn, stretching my arms above my head. The exhaustion from the day’s events was finally catching up to me. Walking for hours, getting through the village gates without an ID, and now, finally having a place to rest, it was no wonder I was feeling worn out.

  Yuzu, who had been sitting beside me with her legs tucked beneath her, tilted her head as her black eyes studied my face. “Mashiro bery sleby?” she asked, her voice carrying that usual playful lilt, but there was a hint of concern in her gaze.

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  I rubbed my eyes and let out a small chuckle. “I guess so,” I admitted, glancing towards the window. The sky outside had shifted from a soft golden hue to a deep navy, the last traces of sunlight fading beyond the rooftops of the village. Lanterns flickered along the streets below, casting a warm glow over the cobblestone paths. The muffled sounds of merchants closing shop and travelers making their way to inns filled the evening air. It felt peaceful, something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

  Yuzu nodded sagely as if she had come to a grand conclusion. “Oki,” she said with a small smile, her tail swaying lazily behind her. “Mashiro bery sleb.”

  She patted the small bed beside her, a clear invitation. I hesitated for a moment, but the moment my body hit the mattress, I knew I wouldn’t last long. I could already feel sleep pulling me in.

  “If you wish, you can have this body anytime.”

  The words rang out, weaving seamlessly with the gentle strumming of a guitar behind her. My heart pounded in my chest as I stood there, frozen, my gaze locked onto the girl on stage. She was radiant, standing beneath the brilliant stage lights, her silver hair with a tint of pink catching every gleam and sparkle. She wore the exact same outfit I had seen countless times in music videos and performances, the distinct style of Ammonia Butterfly.

  I stared, my mind struggling to process what I was seeing. That girl… Was that me?

  No. No, that was stupid. I had been living in Mashiro’s body for days now, and maybe it was messing with my head.

  But even knowing that, I couldn’t tear my eyes away. The way she moved, the way she smiled so effortlessly while singing, every little detail matched the image of Mashiro I knew. The crowd roared around me, the dazzling lights cast long shadows across the stage, and yet, in that moment, it felt like it was just the two of us.

  All around me, the crowd erupted in cheers, their voices blending into a sea of excitement. Hundreds, no, thousands of fans waved their lightsticks in unison, creating a mesmerizing wave of glowing colors. The energy in the air was electric, almost suffocating in its intensity.

  And then, she sang.

  "I'll be the shoulder of the child of the moonlight pouring down."

  The moment her voice filled the air, it was as if the entire venue held its breath. The melody wrapped around me like an old memory, something achingly familiar yet foreign at the same time. I knew this song. Of course, I did. It was the one I had been obsessed with, the very song that had drawn me into Ammonia Butterfly in the first place.

  But this time, it wasn’t a recording, and it wasn’t a mere fantasy playing in my head. It was real. The stage, the lights, the roaring crowd, it was all happening before my very eyes.

  My gaze drifted to the rest of the band. Yuzu stood at the side, her fingers dancing over the guitar strings effortlessly, her expression calm yet focused. Even in the midst of all this excitement, she remained composed, letting the music speak for her. Behind them, Miko sat at the drum set, her red hair flying wildly as she crashed her sticks down with precision, adding the heartbeat to the song.

  This was Ammonia Butterfly, alive and breathing, performing right before me.

  “Are you having fun?” A quiet voice whispered right into my right ear, so close that I could feel the warmth of her breath. A shiver crawled down my spine, and my entire body twitched in response.

  I spun around on reflex, my breath catching in my throat, but as I moved, I collided with someone standing behind me. My shoulder bumped into them, and I immediately mumbled an apology. Yet, the person didn’t react.

  She didn’t turn to look at me. She didn’t even flinch. Instead, she just kept swaying side to side, her glowing lightstick moving in perfect rhythm with the crowd. Her eyes were glued to the stage, her lips parted slightly as if she were entranced, lost in the moment of the performance. It was as if I didn’t exist at all.

  My heartbeat drummed in my ears as unease settled in my stomach. I slowly stepped forward, putting some distance between myself and the eerily oblivious concertgoer. Then, I turned back toward the owner of the voice, my heart pounding slightly from the sudden encounter.

  She was smiling. A soft, knowing smile that made my chest tighten with unease. It wasn’t mocking, nor was it friendly. I found myself pouting without meaning to, feeling like I had just walked into a game where I didn’t know the rules.

  Mashiro was still singing, her voice effortlessly weaving through the melody, wrapping itself around the audience like an enchanting spell. I tore my gaze away from the stage, trying to ignore Mashiro’s voice as she sang, trying to suppress the overwhelming sense of déjà vu pressing down on me. Instead, I focused on the girl in front of me.

  She stood with effortless poise, silver hair cascading over her shoulders, catching the neon lights flashing through the concert hall. Her features were elegant, almost otherworldly, and her eyes, calm, steady, yet holding a glint of amusement, watched me intently.

  I swallowed, forcing my voice out. “Where are we this time, Furukawa Shiro?” I asked, my words cutting through the hum of the crowd.

  The girl tilted her head slightly, as if considering the question. And then, without answering, she simply smiled.