Cat dreams and Fox secrets

"If you truly want to hide, go where everyone else is hiding." — An old saying among the yōkai.

Rei Shinohara stood at the gates, tangled in vines and old magic, staring at the inscription that floated in the air as if written in mist: Eiserlyn Academy: For the Gifted, the Cursed, and the Accidental. He felt uneasy. Not because of the place — but because of himself. Because he was here legally, like everyone else. Almost human. Almost. Eiserlyn Academy, for all its grand history and imposing presence, felt absurdly alive. Built somewhere in the mountains on the edge of reality, it didn't obey ordinary logic: towers turned with their moods, doors led to unexpected places, and the building itself breathed magic — like a massive beast, lazy and eternally hungry. Rei had reached it after months of preparation. Papers, permits, a fake lineage — all to prove he had the "right" to study here. His "aunt," a sixth-rank witch, had confirmed in a letter: "Yes, he's my nephew. Yes, he's a little odd. But basically — human." It worked. He took an old bus, then a ferry, and finally walked along a forest path. Each turn seemed to ask him: are you sure? do you want this? aren't you afraid you'll mess it up again? He did. And he was. The path ended at the academy's massive gates. Forged iron, covered in ornate designs — they didn't so much lock as separate. This side — magic. That side — everything else. Human. Empty. Safe. Rei stepped across the threshold. He was greeted by a girl with goat-like eyes and the smile of an administrator who'd clearly seen her share of monsters disguised as students. — "Shinohara Rei, first year?" she asked, scanning a list. — "Yep. No specialization listed. Pre-magical orientation. Hmm. Special case?" — "I have... maternal relatives." The usual response. A lie polished to reflex. — "Got it. Dorm: North Wing. Room 312. You already have a roommate — Lio Kazutora. Try not to kill each other." She handed him a key on a chain and a campus map. — "Welcome to Eiserlyn, Shinohara Rei." The North Wing was old but cozy. It smelled of dust, dried herbs, and something... foxlike. Rei winced. At himself. His power, buried deep inside, still lived in him despite the disguise. And in places steeped in magic, it leaked out — like steam from a crack. Room 312 was on the third floor. The door creaked like it was trying to warn him. Rei turned the key and stepped inside. — "Huh?" came a voice from within. — "You the new guy?" The room was... odd. One side — immaculate: bed made, desk bare, books aligned by height. The other — chaotic: pillows on the floor, blanket hanging from the wardrobe, a cat on the chair. No — a person. A boy. With ears. — "Umm..." Rei exhaled. The boy sat up lazily, smoothing one ear — brown with reddish spots and a thin white stripe along the edge — and yawned. — "I'm Lio," he said. — "You're my new roommate. Welcome to hell. Hope you don't snore." Rei blinked. — "I'm Rei. Shinohara Rei. First year." — "You're stiff. Don't block the doorway. Come in. Just don't sit on my tail — it's sensitive." Rei shut the door and set his bag by the bed. The metal of the key still felt warm in his hand, as if it didn't quite accept him. — "The room's split evenly," Lio said, stretching. His spine arched, his tail flopped across the windowsill. — "I take the left. You take the right. Tradition. Don't mess with it. I've lived here since last year." He spoke casually, as if he wasn't welcoming Rei into a room, but into a world already arranged to his liking. Rei felt Lio's gaze — like that of a lazy predator, unsure whether to play with its prey or simply bored. — "Got it," Rei replied dryly, moving to his side. He began unpacking, avoiding eye contact. But in his peripheral vision, he saw everything: how Lio knocked a notebook off the bed without noticing; how he nudged a pencil out from under the desk with his foot; how he curled up in the chair like a cat in a box. — "So," Lio finally turned his head, one ear drooping, — "Why'd you come here? You're human, right?" The question was direct. Blunt. Too honest for a first meeting. Rei froze mid-movement, jacket in hand. — "Aren't there other humans here?" — "Yeah," Lio shrugged. — "But most of them have bloodlines. Or... they've got some explanation. Your aura's weird. Like you're not really here. Like something in you is asleep. Or pretending." The room fell silent. Rei turned to face him. — "Maybe your senses are off. Everyone's aura feels different." — "Yeah?" Lio yawned, stretching his limbs. — "I thought you were just lying. But whatever. I'm not exactly a cat either." He smirked and tapped his chest. — "My mom's a witch. Dad's a neko hybrid. So I'm not just fluffy with ears. I'm magical fluffy." He said it with pride, but something flickered behind his eyes. Rei noticed but said nothing. Lio curled up on his bed. His tail tugged a pillow beneath him. He growled like he'd just stolen a prize and settled in. — "Mind if I nap? I had to retake three magical rituals today. Blow up a lab and bam — automatic retest. Unfair, right?" Rei glanced at him and held back a sigh. He wanted to rest too, but the air around Lio felt... too alive. Pulsing. The longer Rei was near this chaotic fluffball, the more his own fox nature stirred. Instincts, blood, the scent of strange magic — it all sparked an itch under his skin. He wanted to disappear into shadows, like always. But instead—he felt trapped. — "I don't snore," Lio mumbled with his eyes closed. — "But I talk in my sleep. If you hear me call you — it's not me. It's the ghosts. They like using other people's voices. Just don't open the door, okay?" Rei flinched. — "Door?" — "Any of them. If you hear knocking — double-check. Nobody knocks for real here. We all use keys. Just... a heads-up." And with that, he was silent. Rei didn't lie down. He sat at the edge of his bed, listening. The silence was strange. Beneath it — something pulsed. As if thoughts, not just magic, flowed through the walls. Whispering. And in the corners of his perception, movement flickered: the silhouette of a cat darting through a shadow. White eyes in the dark. A tail slipping behind a bookshelf. Lio slept peacefully, but his ears twitched. Listening even in dreams. Their auras didn't match. They vibrated at different frequencies. And yet — Rei felt something quieting within him. As if being near this ridiculous neko made him slightly less himself. Or... maybe more. He stood and stepped out onto the balcony. It was cool outside. The air smelled of pine, damp bark, and ash — his scent. He pulled out his kiseru — a long, thin pipe carved before he ever learned human speech. Old. Nearly sacred. A fox engraved on it, gazing at the moon. He lit the tobacco. Smoke curled into the air. A foxlike shape emerged. It bowed its head, amber eyes glinting — the same eyes Rei would have if he dropped the restraints. — "You shouldn't have come here," something inside him whispered. But he already had. The northern balcony overlooked darkness pierced by scattered lights. Far below, trails whispered, fires flickered, a necromancy student laughed, and night winds carried the scent of belladonna and smoked meat. Rei sat on the edge of the rail, one leg crossed, pipe in mouth. The smoke twisted between his fingers like it had a mind of its own. He closed his eyes. And then — he noticed. At first, it was just a faint shift, like a feather brushing the air. Then another. And another. Above the trees, along the rooftops, across the balconies — ghostly figures began to roam. Some barely visible, like moonlight. Others glowing, solid, with clear paws and flowing tails. Cats. Dozens. Different colors, different ages. All dead. Their ears twitched, as if catching a music no one else could hear. Some chased invisible butterflies. Others lay on rooftops, lazily grooming phantom whiskers. One white cat with a black nose spot approached Rei. He froze — not from fear. Fear hadn't touched him in seventy years. But from the soft tickle of magic, like herbs whispering in the rain. The cat tilted its head, studying him. Then silently walked through the smoke — and vanished. But its tail traced a circle in the air, as if leaving a mark. Rei stared at the spot where it disappeared. He felt them. All of them. These spirits, these ghosts. Confident, calm, as old as the Academy itself. And gathered here — as if held by something. Or someone. He glanced back toward the room. Lio was curled up on his bed, clutching his pillow. His tail flicked slightly, ears twitching in rhythm with his dream. Rei exhaled smoke again, slowly. The wisps formed fox faces — not drawn by him. They just... appeared. — "Fluffy magnetic field," he muttered. — "Interesting..." He didn't feel danger. But something inside remained alert. Reflex? Or... concern? He shook his head, snuffed the pipe, and returned it to its case. One last look at the moonlit slope — and Rei stepped back into the room, shutting the balcony door. Inside, all was still. Lio slept, hugging his pillow. On the floor lay his notebook, its cover marked with a pentagram drawn in anime style, titled: "Notes on Spirits and Why They Won't Let Me Sleep." Rei couldn't help but smirk. Too cute. Too... alive. He changed, lay on the bed, and stared at the ceiling. A strange crack stared back, shaped like an eye. He closed his own eyes. Tried to relax. But at the edge of hearing — there were still soft footsteps. Tap. Tap. Tap. Paws on wood. Shadows. Cats. Night in Eiserlyn was alive. And as Lio snored softly and the building's magic whispered in the walls, Rei, for the first time in decades, allowed himself not to hide.