The st cssroom door closed behind Eri with a soft click.

  She stayed there for a moment, hand still on the handle, ears tilted backward as she listened to the distant roar of students flooding the halls. Lockers smmed. Shoes squeaked. Voices overpped into one overwhelming wall of sound.

  She waited.

  Ten seconds.

  Twenty.

  Thirty.

  Alex leaned against the wall beside her already come from his css, backpack slung over one shoulder. He didn’t rush her anymore — he’d learned quickly that crowds were the worst part of school for her. Too many eyes. Too many questions she couldn’t predict.

  “…think it’s safe yet?” he asked quietly.

  Eri cracked the door open slightly and peeked.

  The hallway was almost empty now — just a couple students at the far end and a janitor rolling a cart past the science wing.

  Her tails rexed a fraction.

  “Yeah,” she said softly.

  They stepped out together.

  Even with the hall mostly clear, she stayed close to the wall, ears twitching at every echoing footstep. Alex naturally drifted a half-step ahead, not blocking her but creating a small buffer zone so nobody brushed into her unexpectedly.

  It had become routine.

  Unspoken.

  Comfortable.

  They walked outside into warm afternoon air. The parking lot shimmered faintly in the sunlight, and the retive quiet felt like stepping into another world after the sensory chaos of school.

  Eri exhaled deeply.

  “…survived,” she murmured.

  “Four for four,” Alex said. “No fainting teachers today.”

  “Disappointing.”

  He gnced sideways. “You’re starting to enjoy that reputation.”

  She flicked an ear. “…maybe a little.”

  They reached the sidewalk where Mom’s car waited.

  But when Eri pulled open the back door, Mom didn’t start the engine.

  Instead, she turned around in her seat with a suspiciously casual smile.

  “So,” she said.

  Eri immediately narrowed her eyes. “So?”

  “We’re not going home yet.”

  Pause.

  “…what.”

  Mira, sitting in the passenger seat, grinned openly. “Surprise trip.”

  Eri froze halfway into the car. “Mom.”

  Mom’s smile widened.

  “The outlets.”

  Silence.

  Alex blinked. “…the outlets?”

  Eri slowly shut the door again and leaned against it. “No.”

  Mom raised an eyebrow. “No?”

  “No crowds,” Eri said firmly. “No people. No stares. No trying-on clothes in public buildings designed by sadists.”

  Mira ughed. “Sadists?”

  “Changing room mirrors know things,” Eri muttered darkly.

  Mom softened her voice. “It’s te afternoon. Weekday. It’ll be quieter — and we’ll stay near the less busy sections.”

  Eri hesitated.

  Her ears twitched back and forth as she weighed it.

  Alex spoke gently, “We can leave anytime if it’s too much.”

  She looked at him.

  Then at Mira.

  Then at Mom.

  Her tails shifted anxiously behind her — but not retreating.

  “…fine,” she said at st. “But I reserve the right to flee dramatically.”

  “Accepted,” Mom said immediately.

  The outlet mall wasn’t empty.

  But it wasn’t bad.

  Open-air walkways meant space, not hallways. Conversations spread out instead of stacking into noise. The te-afternoon lull kept most shoppers sparse — scattered families, a few couples, a bored teenager scrolling outside a shoe store.

  Eri walked between Mom and Alex, shoulders tense at first.

  Her ears flicked constantly, tracking footsteps.

  Nobody screamed.

  Nobody pointed.

  Some people looked — that was unavoidable — but most did the quick double-take and kept walking. The world didn’t stop.

  Gradually, her posture eased.

  “…okay,” she admitted quietly. “This is manageable.”

  Mira smirked. “High praise.”

  They started with simple stores — soft clothes, comfortable fabrics. Nothing fancy, nothing overwhelming.

  Inside the first shop, Eri lingered close to racks while Mom browsed calmly, occasionally holding up options without pushing.

  “This one has stretch in the back seam,” Mom said gently.

  Eri touched the fabric cautiously. “…that’s actually nice.”

  Alex stayed near the entrance bench — until Mira shoved a hoodie into his arms.

  “You’re helping.”

  “I’m moral support.”

  “You have hands.”

  He sighed but followed.

  Soon he found himself holding three sweaters, a skirt, and something he refused to identify while Eri examined tags with intense seriousness.

  Her tails swayed thoughtfully behind her as she compared materials.

  “This one won’t snag,” she murmured.

  Mira blinked. “You’re getting good at this.”

  “…I have ten things that can get stuck in doors,” Eri replied ftly.

  Fair.

  The changing rooms were the real challenge.

  Eri stood outside the stall, staring at the door like it might bite.

  Alex leaned against the opposite wall casually, giving her space.

  Mom spoke softly, “We’ll be right here.”

  Eri nodded, took a breath, and slipped inside.

  A moment ter—

  “Okay whoever designed these hooks is my enemy.”

  Mira snorted.

  Several minutes passed.

  Then the door cracked open slightly and a tail poked out.

  “…Mira.”

  “Yes?”

  “I am stuck.”

  Mom immediately stood but Eri added quickly, “No Mom!”

  Mira covered her mouth, ughing silently, and slipped inside to assist.

  Alex stared firmly at the ceiling.

  After a minute—

  “Oh my god how did you even—”

  “I TURNED TOO FAST.”

  More muffled chaos.

  Finally they emerged.

  Eri looked embarrassed but… smiling.

  The sweater fit perfectly.

  Alex blinked. “That actually looks really good.”

  Her ears perked involuntarily. “…thanks.”

  She didn’t retreat back into the stall immediately.

  Small victory.

  They wandered several more stores after that.

  Shoes.Hair accessories (Mira insisted, Eri protested weakly).A café stop where Eri cautiously sat outside and rexed enough to sip a drink without scanning every direction constantly.

  The sun dipped lower, warm gold stretching across the walkway.

  By the time they finished, Eri carried one small bag.

  Not overwhelming.

  Not forced.

  Chosen.

  She walked slower now — no longer hugging the edges of the path.

  “…that wasn’t awful,” she admitted.

  Mira gasped theatrically. “Mark the calendar.”

  Mom smiled gently.

  Alex bumped her shoulder lightly. “You didn’t even flee dramatically.”

  Eri considered.

  Then lightly flicked a tail against his arm.

  “I still can.”

  He smiled.

  And as they headed back toward the car together — evening air cooling around them — Eri realized something surprising.

  The world outside home didn’t feel quite as impossible anymore.

  AnnouncementAnother early chapter because of time problems