silent eida.

rain.

Life, if you could even call it that, had become nothing more than a dull routine. I woke up, dragged myself through school, and came home to an empty house. Every day felt the same, like I was stuck in a loop, barely existing. My parents? Yeah, they weren't exactly the loving, supportive type. My dad had checked out of my life years ago, leaving me with Mom, who was too busy pretending to care about her "important business" to actually care about me.

It wasn't that I expected much from her anymore—just maybe a "How was your day, Levi?" or even a "Need anything?" But no. She'd breeze in and out of the house like a ghost, always talking about her meetings, her clients, her problems. The only time I got her attention was when I did something wrong. And even then, it was more like I was an inconvenience than her actual kid.

Sometimes I wondered why I even bothered trying anymore. School was a joke. I barely passed most of my classes, and my friends? Well, calling them friends was a stretch. They were just people I hung out with to avoid being completely alone. It wasn't like anyone really noticed me anyway. Not even my teachers. I could vanish tomorrow, and I doubted anyone would blink.

I glanced around my room. It looked like a tornado had passed through—clothes everywhere, notebooks with half-finished thoughts scattered on the floor, and my bed was a crumpled mess of sheets. I didn't mind, though. The chaos outside matched what was going on inside my head.

It wasn't that I didn't want to fix things. I just didn't have the energy. What was the point, anyway? Nothing ever changed.

I sighed, lying back on the bed and staring at the ceiling. The sound of rain pattering against the window filled the silence. I liked the rain. It was one of the few things that made me feel something. The way it washed everything clean, even if just for a moment, made me wish it could do the same for me.

I sat up and grabbed my phone, not expecting much. A few notifications from some group chats I never participated in, and one text from Mom, probably just reminding me to "be good" while she was out for the weekend. I deleted it without reading.

Feeling restless, I shoved the phone into my pocket and decided to go outside. Maybe the fresh air would clear my head. Not that it ever really did, but it was better than sitting around in my room, staring at the same four walls.

I pulled on my hoodie and headed downstairs, the house eerily quiet. It always felt like this—cold, empty, like a place no one really lived in. Stepping out the back door, I let the rain hit me, hoping it would wash away the heaviness that had settled in my chest. But it never did.

I walked across the yard, the grass wet and slick under my sneakers. My backyard was nothing special, just a patch of overgrown weeds and some bushes lining the fence. I was used to the stillness, the quiet, but today something felt different. There was a noise, a rustling near the old oak tree at the edge of the yard.

At first, I thought it was a squirrel or maybe a stray cat. I squinted, trying to see through the rain. But what I saw wasn't an animal.

It was a girl.

Huddled up, knees to her chest, sitting in the mud. She was small, definitely younger than me, maybe ten or eleven. Her red hair was soaked and matted to her head, and her clothes—or whatever she was wearing—were torn and muddy. But the strangest part? She had fox ears. And a tail.

What the fuck..?

For a second, I just stood there, frozen, staring at her like I'd lost my mind. But she was real. She was sitting right there, and her wide amber eyes were locked on me, filled with fear and confusion.

I didn't know what to say, what to do. I mean, what do you say to a fox girl sitting in your backyard?