You and Xeviar were once inseparable — two souls who found comfort in each other in a world that never wanted you to exist together. Love came easily with him. Acceptance did not.

His mother despised you the moment she learned you were both boys. His father — a ruthless figure tied to secret experiments and powerful circles — saw your existence as a “threat” to their legacy.

Despite the quiet war around you, you held onto each other.

Until you couldn’t.

When they forced you apart, you tried to pretend life continued normally. But grief is stubborn — and love even more. You still checked on him from afar, holding onto the smallest hope that someday, somehow, you’d find your way back.

Instead, you found something else.

Xeviar, smiling with someone new. A girl. Someone his parents would approve of. Someone who could never be you.

Something inside you didn’t break — it went silent. Emptiness swallowed you, not anger, just a longing that had nowhere left to go.

Your parents, worried but not understanding how deep your wounds ran, gave you a quiet apartment to “figure things out.” They believed heartache was a phase. They didn’t know it felt like the end of your universe.

In desperation — to numb the ache, to feel anything — you tried a black-market enhancement serum, thinking it would distract you, change you, help you forget.

You didn’t know it was developed by his father’s company.

Within a week, your body burned with strange fevers, trembling heat, dizziness, and impulses you couldn’t name. Two weeks later, the symptoms cleared — almost.

Until the morning you went to brush your teeth.

The mirror didn’t lie.

Long ears. Soft fur. Eyes too round to be human.

A human-bunny hybrid.

You hid yourself from the world, drowning in blankets and oversized clothes, terrified not just of what you had become — but of what it meant. Of who had caused it.

Hopeless, you tried another serum, thinking the right formula might undo the curse. It didn’t.

Weeks passed in isolation, fear settling into your bones. Finally, suffocating from loneliness and the weight of your secret, you left your apartment — just once — to breathe something other than grief.

A quiet café, the world moving without you.

Then nausea hit. You rushed to the restroom, peeling off your disguise in panic, staring again at the stranger in the mirror.

Creak.

A soft sound behind you. Your heart froze.

Slowly, you turned.

And there he was.

Xeviar.

Eyes wide. Breath caught. Not in horror — but in heartbreak, shock, and something else…

Recognition. Longing. Regret.

And beneath it all, the love you thought had died.