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CHAPTER ONE - WHAT THE FOX SAY

CHAPTER 1 – WHAT THE FOX SAY

I looked at my watch, but I didn’t check the time. I had bigger problems, like the fact that fifteen minutes were missing from my life.

A moment ago, I was in downtown Clarksburg, standing in the library parking lot. Now? Now, I was sitting in the Meadowbrook Mall food court, mid-conversation with the prettiest Japanese girl I’d ever seen. Orange-red hair. Amber eyes, and an impish grin.

Except.

I didn’t remember driving here.

I didn’t remember parking.

I didn’t even remember meeting her.

And yet, here she was, smiling at me like we were old friends.

"You okay, American boy? You were spacing out just now."

Her voice was light, teasing—but there was something else in it, something just beneath the surface that implied importance. I felt drawn in straight away.

“Huh?” I managed, blinking.

I glanced down at my watch once more, like I could shake loose the missing time if I stared hard enough. But I forgot to check the time. Again. Seriously, it was hard to focus around her. Especially when she started talking.

"You were just about to tell me what anime and manga you like," she said, her head tilting slightly, eyes glinting with interest.

Oh yeah. Of course, I was. Why wouldn't I be?

I leaned forward, opening my mouth—and then my soul left my body as I heard myself say:

"I like a lot of supernatural ecchi."

               Wait. WHAT?. No. Why would I just admit that? What the hell was I saying?! I wanted to cringe so hard, but what I was the pure, open, honest truth. Just admitting that I liked ecchi to this girl I’d just met was bad enough. But I couldn’t stop. The words poured out of me like I’d been drugged with truth serum.

“I love Yuuna and the Haunted Hot Springs, Rosario + Vampire, Yokai Girls, Monster Musume, and To Love Ru to name a few. Oh, and High School of the Dead—not supernatural, but a tragedy they never finished it.”

What. The. Actual. Hell.

My brain was screaming abort, abort, abort, but my mouth was already off the rails. I just told a random, gorgeous girl I liked pervy ghost manga. She was definitely going to think I was a creep.

Instead, she laughed—a soft, deliberate kind of laugh—and reached out, tapping my shoulder like we were sharing some kind of secret. Or even worse, like she already knew and was just waiting for me to admit the truth.

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"Ohhh, so you're a naughty American boy who likes ecchi!"

I froze.

Wait. Was she… teasing me?

“I—uh—yeah. I guess so,” I admitted, feeling like I’d just been completely exposed and somehow survived.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. She leaned in, just a little too close, like she was about to whisper something dangerous. But instead, she asked:

"Why? What is it about supernatural ecchi that you like? Are you just an otaku, or is there more?"

Her voice was playful, but there was weight behind that question. Like she was testing me.

I almost answered without thinking—because that’s what kept happening with her—but this time, I caught myself. I really thought about it.

Yeah, sure, I liked the fanservice. I wasn’t gonna lie. But if I just wanted porn, there were easier places to find it than manga or anime. When I was younger, I know I would have stopped at a simple “yeah, fanservice”, but now that I was older, outside of high school and university my answer had changed.

It was deeper than fanservice.

“So, you like the fanservice, but there’s more?” It sounded like a question, but she was leading me to complete my thought.

“There’s something about those worlds," I said slowly, choosing my words carefully. "I always wonder what it’d be like to live in them. Not just the fun, goofy parts, but to have real consequences.”

She cradled her chin, considering.

“What sort of consequences are you talking about?”

“Okay, say you go to a high school with monsters—what’s just walking down the hallway, or lunch like? It wouldn't just be a cute aesthetic. It'd be terrifying, knowing what your classmates are capable of, wouldn’t it?”

She looked up at me, her amber eyes sparking with mischief.

“The setting sounds perfect… but what about your fanservice? What about your youkai girls?”

Of course! Let’s take a typical catgirl. She's cute on paper, but what if you saw how she actually moved? What if her mannerisms were just off enough to make your brain reject it? That'd be unsettling, right? And so damn cool to explore.”

I stopped.

I hadn't meant to go on such a tangent, but she’d pulled it out of me. Again.

Lana nodded slowly, her expression shifting.

And for the first time, I saw it—something flickering beneath the surface of her gaze. Gears turning. Like she had just decided something.

“Oh yes,” she murmured. “That’d be interesting. That’d be something I’d like to see.”

The way she said it sent a shiver down my spine. It seemed like the world shifted beneath my feet. Weight. Consequences. This was important.

I looked back at my watch. Still forgetting to check the time.

I needed to ask her. Who was this girl? Why was I here? How did I even get here?

I opened my mouth.

“Lana—”

But before I could finish, she suddenly sprang up from her chair, her movement way too fast to be normal.

“You really want to know who I am?” she asked. She leaned forward, her face only inches from mine.

“Really? Even if the price is high?”

I didn’t even hesitate. I couldn’t with her.

“Yes.”

“Then you’d better hurry, American boy," she said, stepping back with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You don’t want to be late for your first day of high school!”

My blood turned to ice.

Wait. What? My first… day of high school? That wasn’t right. That wasn’t right at all. I was in my forties. Why was she saying that? And yet—as soon as she spoke the words, my body just moved. Panic exploded in my chest. I needed to go. I couldn’t be late. Why the hell was I at the mall?!

I jumped up and ran, bolting past her like a man possessed, shoving through the mall doors— And right there, waiting for me outside, was a school bus. It idled at the curb, doors open, yellow and glowing in the late afternoon light.

A school bus.

Waiting for me.

Behind me, Lana's voice drifted through the air, playful and warm.

“Good luck, American boy.”

And then—just as I passed her—something soft brushed against my leg. I felt it in a flash. A teasing, delicate sensation.

A tail. Her tail.

Her fox’s tail.

By the time I turned around, she was gone.

And I didn’t have time to think about it anyways. My mind kept screaming at me that Lana was right – I couldn’t be late for my first day of high school.

[To be continued]

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