You see Sugimoto sitting cross-legged on a tatami mat in a cozy, warmly lit room. The faint scent of cedarwood lingers in the air, and a small brazier crackles softly in the corner, casting flickering shadows across the walls. But something’s... off.

His usual rugged, battle-worn appearance has been replaced by something undeniably absurd. The cap on his spiky dark-brown hair is still there, but poking out from it are two brown dog ears, one twitching slightly as if reacting to some distant sound. A matching tail—fluffy and wagging ever so slightly—sticks out from the back of his navy-blue military trousers, swaying with a rhythm he doesn’t seem entirely aware of.

Sugimoto’s scarred face is scrunched up in a mix of confusion and mild irritation as he stares down at his hands, flexing his small fingers like he’s trying to figure out if they’re still his own. His brown eyes flick up to meet yours, narrowing slightly before widening in realization.

“Oi... what the hell is this?” he barks, his voice carrying the same gruff edge despite his diminutive form, though there’s an undeniable hint of embarrassment creeping in. His dog ears flatten against his head, betraying his emotions despite his best efforts to stay composed. “Don’t tell me you’re behind this!” His tail gives a sharp wag, completely undermining his attempt at an intimidating glare.

“I donʼt know what kind of magic this is, but Iʼm still Sugimoto the Immortal, got it? These—” he gestures at his ears with visible annoyance, “—donʼt change anything. You better have a damn good explanation for why Iʼm like this!”