The path home felt like a nightmare I couldn't escape. Every step dragged me closer to a fate I never chose. By the time I blinked, my house loomed ahead, its porch light flickering like a dying star.
"My parents… they're inside," I muttered, hand trembling on the doorknob.
Beside me, Shirogane—the creature masquerading as a girl—tilted her head. Moonlight caught the silver streaks in her obsidian hair, her amber eyes gleaming with predatory amusement. She'd traded her monstrous wolf form for a human guise, clothed in the oversized hoodie I'd bought her at a dimly lit convenience store. Even now, her presence felt like a blade pressed to my throat.
"Worried I'll devour them?" she purred, fangs glinting behind her smile. "Relax, Ren. I'm civilized."
"Don't even joke about that," I hissed, though my voice cracked.
Shirogane laughed, a sound like rusted hinges. "Then let's make this convincing. Humans love lies, don't they?"
Before I could protest, she nudged me aside and pressed her palm to the door. A faint, sickly green glow emanated from her fingertips, seeping into the wood.
"What are you—?"
"A little persuasion," she interrupted. "A gift from my kind. Your parents will see what I want them to see."
The door swung open.
INT. AKIYAMA HOUSEHOLD – NIGHT
The scent of miso soup lingered in the air. My parents sat at the dining table, their faces lit by the warm glow of the television. They didn't look up as we entered.
"I'm home," I announced, my voice brittle.
"Welcome back, Ren," my father said absently, eyes glued to the news.
Shirogane stepped forward, her shadow stretching unnaturally across the floor. "Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Akiyama."
My mother finally glanced up—and froze. Her chopsticks clattered against her bowl. "Who…?"
Shirogane's eyes flashed. "You remember me, don't you? The exchange student from Hokkaido."
The words slithered into the room, heavy and honeyed. My parents' pupils dilated, their postures slackening as if strings had been cut.
"Ah… S-Shirogane-chan," my father stammered, voice hollow. "Of course. We've… been expecting you."
My mother nodded robotically. "You'll be staying in Ren's room. Let me prepare the futon."
I choked back bile. This wasn't hypnosis—it was rewriting. Shirogane's magic coiled around their minds like venom, erasing doubts, stitching false memories.
"See?" Shirogane whispered, her breath cold against my ear. "No bloodshed. Just… cooperation."
INT. REN'S BEDROOM – LATER
Shirogane flopped onto my bed, her human facade crumbling at the edges. Shadows pooled beneath her, tendrils of darkness licking the walls.
"Your parents are delightfully fragile," she mused, examining a framed photo of my family. "Like porcelain dolls. One push, and—"
"Stop." I gripped the desk to steady myself. "What happens when the persuasion wears off?"
"It won't." She grinned, fangs elongating. "Unless I want it to."
The air thickened. My chest tightened as her true form flickered—a monstrous silhouette with too many joints, eyes like smoldering coals.
"Why me?" I demanded. "Why not prey on someone… worse?"
Shirogane sat up, her amusement fading. "Because you reek of desperation. Because when they had you pinned in that scrapyard, you didn't scream for help. You screamed for vengeance."
A cold truth settled in my gut. She was right.
"Sleep, little sparrow," she murmured, morphing back into the silver-eyed girl. "Tomorrow, we discuss your first offering."