The morning sun bathed the city in a golden glow, casting long shadows across the narrow streets. Unlike the secluded, forested house they had left behind, this place was alive with movements. bicycles gliding past, shopkeepers arranging their morning displays, and the distant hum of train announcements echoing through the crisp air.
Eiko sat in the passenger seat, her hands resting stiffly in her lap. She had told her daughter they were going to the hospital. It wasn't a complete lie. Just not the whole truth either.
How many half-truths have I told her over the years?
She thought, a pang of guilt washing over her.
But this is to protect her. She doesn't need to know everything yet.
Beside her, Hiro, her husband, kept his eyes on the road, maneuvering the car through the busy outskirts with gentleness. He was the only one she trusted with this secret, the only one who knew everything.
He's always been my rock.
She reflected, stealing a glance at his face.
Even when I pushed him away at first, he never left.
Soon, they got past the convenience stores and modern high-rises, deep in a residential district where old and new blended seamlessly, stood the house of her elder sister. A house that she had always coveted, the surrounding neighborhood thrumming with life.
Years ago, a priest had seen a vision. A child of their bloodline would awaken the power of the wolf spirit and inherit the title of Alpha. Their parents had believed in the prophecy so deeply that when neither Eiko nor her sister showed any sign of shifting, they did not waver in their faith. The ancestral home, meant for the chosen heir, was given to Eiko. It was only a matter of time, they thought, before destiny revealed itself.
But the years passed, and nothing happened.
Until now.
Eiko thought bitterly. And it had to be my daughter?
Now, as they pulled into the driveway of her sister's house. A traditional wooden home nestled among the city's quiet residential lanes. Eiko felt the weight of that prophecy more than ever.
Eiko stepped out first, adjusting the sleeves of her light jacket. The air was cool, carrying the scent of damp earth and freshly brewed coffee from a nearby café. She hesitated only for a moment before pressing the doorbell. The chime echoed softly through the house.
A few seconds later, the door opened.
They were expected.
Without a word, she and Hiro stepped inside.
* * *
Inside the softly lit room, the atmosphere was tense. The scent of fresh-brewed coffee lingered in the air as Eiko sat stiffly on the floor cushion, her gaze was distant.
I hate asking for help.
Across from her, a young girl in a simple apron placed a delicate porcelain cup before her.
Eiko lifted it to her lips, took a single sip, then set it down with a quiet clink.
Too bitter. Like this whole situation.
"Take it away," she ordered, her voice edged with impatience.
The girl hesitated, startled by the abrupt command.
She probably thinks Eiko's rude. But Eiko don't have the time for pleasantries. Not when her daughter's life is being torn apart.
"I'm in no mood for anything," Eiko added, her tone clipped as she waved the cup out of her sight.
The girl quickly bowed, retrieved the coffee, and retreated in silence.
Hiro, sitting beside her, placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, a silent attempt to soothe her. His thumb rubbed small, slow circles, a subtle reminder to remain composed.
He knows me too well,
Knows when I'm about to lose control.
Just then, the soft sound of footsteps against the wooden floor signaled an arrival.
Eri stepped into the room, her presence were both grounding and enigmatic. With a composed expression and a quiet grace that had always defined her, she took a seat across from her younger sister.
She hasn't changed. Still perfect and serene. Untouched by the mess of their legacy.
"Eri," Eiko greeted, her voice carrying the weight of unspoken thoughts.
Eri regarded her carefully, then smiled lightly.
"You don't visit without a reason. You seem troubled." She took a sip of the tea that had been set before her.
Eiko exhaled sharply. "Of course I am. I think it runs in Akira's blood. Our family bloodline. The werewolf."
Eri's fingers stilled against her teacup. Her posture shifted, her attention now fully locked onto her sister.
"Wait," she said slowly, her brows knitting together.
"That means... she's turned sixteen, hasn't she?"
A moment of silence stretched between them before understanding flickered in Eri's eyes.
"Wow." She sat back, an unexpected warmth lacing her words.
"Congratulations, sister. This proves that we still remain the Alpha line."
The air in the room shifted.
Congratulations? CONGRATULATIONS?
Rage bubbled up inside Eiko, hot and volcanic.
Her daughter is turning into a monster, and she's CONGRATULATING her?
"What do you mean, congratulations?!"
Eiko's voice shot through the space like a crack of thunder as she slammed her palm against the table. The ceramic teacups rattled.
How dare her. How DARE she act like this is some kind of honor.
"EIKO!!" Hiro's sharp voice cut through the tension, firm but controlled. His grip on her shoulder tightened slightly, calming her.
Eiko's chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, but Hiro's steady presence dulled the edge of her temper. Control yourself Eiko. She warned herself.
This isn't helping Akira. Her lips pressed together, and after a moment, she sank back.
Hiro turned toward Eiko then exhaled. "That's enough, honey," he said to his wife, his voice laced with quiet understanding.
Eiko gave a small nod, her features softening. "We're sorry," Hiro offered, bowing his head slightly in apology toward Eri.
Eiko let out a slow breath.
"I'm... sorry. I was a little out of it," she admitted quietly.
For a brief moment, the room settled into a stillness, the weight of everything pressing upon them. Then, breaking the silence, Eiko spoke again, her voice was almost in a whisper.
"So what do I do now... about Akira?"
My little girl. What will become of her now?
The question hung in the air unanswered as the scene faded into uncertainty.
* * *
Miyu blinked and took a shallow breath. "What... was that just now?"
I smiled,
How cute. If only she knew what really lurks behind these eyes now.
"Nothing you need to worry about."
Yes, let them all think everything is normal for now. They should think it's still the little girl.
Miyu keeps looking at me like I have grown another head. Not outright questioning, but seeming cautious. Suspicious. She's noticed something's off. I can feel it. Though she didn't ask.
The bus ride to school was quiet. I stared out the window, watching the city blur past, but my mind was elsewhere.
This body is young, stronger than it looks, but still so... fragile.
When we arrived, I stepped off the bus without hesitation. Normally, I would have kept my head down, avoiding everyone and unnecessary attention. Especially from him.
The boy this body yearns for. I can feel her emotions, buried beneath my consciousness. Her childish infatuation.
But today, I walked into class differently. Straight-backed, shoulders squared.
People noticed. Some in curiosity, others in quiet resentment.
Then, it happened.
A student brushed past me, deliberately trying to make me stumble, or at least that was her intent as she used force.
Pathetic. Does she really think she can intimidate me? Me, who has existed for centuries?
Normally, I would have tripped, mumbled an apology, and shrunk into myself.
But this time, I did not stumble. Didn't even move. Instead, she recoiled like she had slammed into something solid. A sharp gasp followed, and the girl's expression twisted into shock, then anger.
"Watch where you're going," she snapped, masking her discomfort with irritation.
I simply raised an eyebrow in mild amusement.
Children playing at dominance. If she knew what I really was, she'd be on her knees, begging for mercy.
* * *
**Crime scene - 7:32 A.M.**
Mist still clung to the trees as Officers Yamamoto and Hayashi stepped through the thick underbrush, their boots crunching the forest floor. The air was sharp with the kind of chill that seeped into your bones.
Just the girl's voice that was barely above a whisper.
"Under the old tree... in Silver Ridge. Please... just come."
She gave no name. No number. Then silence.
Probably a prank call.
Yamamoto had thought initially.
But something in that voice...
The officers followed a narrow path until the clearing opened before them. At the base of a massive, old tree with roots gnarled like knuckles and bark blackened by age... they saw It.
Hayashi's breath caught in his throat. "What the hell…"
I've seen car accidents, stabbings, even a suicide by shotgun, but this... this is something else entirely.
The body had been torn apart. Limbs scattered like broken branches. The torso was barely recognizable — lay twisted near the roots. The head sat a few feet away, face tilted toward the rising sun, eyes glassy and unblinking.
Yamamoto crouched, jaw set. "This wasn't human."
Nothing human could do this. Nothing I've ever seen could do this.
"Not a chance," Hayashi murmured.
"Have you ever seen something like this?" Yamamoto asked.
"No. Never." Hayashi replied.
The wounds weren't clean. Deep gashes ran across the flesh, jagged like something clawed rather than cut. Chunks were missing.... torn out. Like it was feeding, Yamamoto thought with growing horror.
Whatever did this...
Yamamoto stepped back, glancing around the scene. No drag marks. No blood trail. The killing happened here fast and brutal.
"I'm calling it in," he said.
"We need forensics. Now."
Hayashi radioed it in.
"Dispatch, this is Officer Hayashi. Scene confirmed. Send forensic team to Silver Ridge. Victim's body… the body is dismembered. Possibly mauled by unknown cause. Over."
"Copy, team en route," came the reply.
They can't possibly be prepared for what we've found, Hayashi thought grimly.
By the time Tanaka from forensics arrived, the sun had started piercing through the trees, casting long shadows over the scene.
Tanaka took one look and let out a low breath.
"What kind of animal could do this…"
Twenty years in this job, and he'd never seen anything like this massacre.
"That's what we're trying to figure out. This isn't done by human, right?" Yamamoto asked.
"But I don't think it's just an animal."
Tanaka knelt beside the remains, pulling on gloves.
"The cuts… see this?" He pointed to the deep gouges on the torso.
"These aren't clean. Definitely claws. And here.." he tapped near the neck, "massive bite force."
Yamamoto folded his arms, watching. "The victim didn't fight. No scratch marks on the ground or defensive wounds."
"Means it was quick," Tanaka said.
"Or he didn't see it coming."
Small mercies, I suppose. At least death would have been fast.
Hayashi shifted uneasily. "What about the girl who called it in? Could she have seen this happen?"
Tanaka paused. "If she did, she's lucky to be alive."
"Or she's not," Yamamoto muttered. "And this…." He paused.
Or she's somehow connected to whatever did this. That voice on the phone... there was something off about it.
The forest was too still. Like every living thing knows to stay away.
Above them, the tree loomed like a silent witness, the branches were heavy with secrets.
* * *
Takumi walked up to me.
Normally, this would be the moment my heart stuttered, my face burned, and my words tangled on my tongue. I would have greeted him shyly, barely able to meet his eyes.
I can feel her memories. Her longing for this boy. How pathetic.
But not today.
When he greeted me, I only gave a half-hearted wave, like he was just another classmate. Someone unimportant. I barely looked at him.
He hesitated. The way his smile faltered for just a second, the slight crease in his brow.
He's confused. Good. Let him wonder what changed.
But I didn't care enough to explain.
"Where does she even sit?" I muttered under my breath, scanning the classroom. The desk that was supposed to be mine felt foreign. The little details, the way my books were arranged, the scrawled notes in the margins.. none of it felt like mine.
Her handwriting Is ugly, just like the Nakamura's.
I clicked my tongue in annoyance. "This is so irritating. I shouldn't be here. And these kids.."
My gaze flicked to the girl who was still glaring at me.
Can you imagine? A kid, glaring at me?
The thought was absurd, and a quiet, bitter chuckle escaped my lips.
These children playing their little dominance games, unaware that a true predator walks among them now.
No, this wasn't where I needed to be. A quiet place to think would do. I need to plan. To understand this new body.
I made my way to the back of the classroom, stretching my fingers as I sat down. I turned them over, studying the lines, the faint scars. My hands were small, fragile, familiar, and yet...
"Is this body mine now?"
* * *