Narration:
Liyan woke up groggy, convinced last night had been a fever dream. But when he turned over, he nearly fell off the bed.
[Beside him sat a boy—shorter than Liyan, about 5'4", pale skin, messy white hair sticking up like static, wearing a too-big T‑shirt and jeans. His bright blue eyes glowed faintly, and he smiled nervously.]
Liyan: (yelling) WHO ARE YOU?! And why are you in my room?!
Boy: (cheerfully) Correction: Who am I now. Doramon, upgraded to Human Disguise Mode. Impressive, right?
Liyan: (gaping) …You turned into a boy? Bro, you look like a K‑pop star after a power cut!
Doramon: (proudly) Statistics show humans trust this appearance 87% more than a talking dog.
[A knock at the door.]
Mom: (from outside) Liyan? Who are you shouting at?
Liyan: (panicking) Oh no oh no oh no—
Doramon: (tapping his wrist gadget) Perception Filter: ON.
[His collar glows faintly. To parents, he now appears as "Rohan," Liyan's distant cousin.]
Mom enters, sees Doramon as a normal boy.
Mom: (surprised) Arre, Liyan! Why didn't you tell me Rohan was coming?
Doramon: (smiling too wide) Namaste, Aunty! Surprise inspection… I mean… surprise visit.
Mom: (laughs) Such a polite boy! Unlike someone.
Liyan: (muttering) Polite? He broke into my cupboard last night.
---
[At breakfast.]
Dad: (eyeing Doramon) So, Rohan beta, what brings you to Indore?
Doramon: (thinking fast) Studies. Very serious studies. Class 12th, Physics topper.
Liyan: (chokes on paratha) Physics topper?! This guy couldn't spell "Newton" last night!
Doramon: (kicks Liyan under the table, whispers) Adapt to cover story. Or error 404: family trust not found.
[Doramon discreetly taps his paw—now disguised as a smartwatch. Liyan's bland upma turns into steaming chole-bhature.]
Liyan: (eyes lighting up) Jackpot again!
Mom: (frowning) Strange… I thought I made upma.
Doramon: (quickly) Regional variation. Very common in… um… space—I mean, Spain!
Dad: (suspicious) Spain?
Doramon: (beaming) Yes. I study geography also.
---
Narration:
Liyan wanted to crawl under the table. Not only was his "cousin" a terrible liar, but he also still behaved weirdly—sniffing the butter dish, wagging his foot when excited, and almost barking at the newspaper boy.
---
Liyan: (whispering angrily) Bro, act normal! Humans don't sniff butter!
Doramon: (seriously) But it smells 342% better this way.
---
[As they leave for school, Doramon slings a too-big backpack over his shoulder.]
Doramon: (grinning) Mission Day One: Attend school. Assist subject Liyan Sharma. Success probability: 64%.
Liyan: (groaning) If I fail, it'll be 0%.
Doramon: (cheerfully) Don't worry. I have gadgets. Like The Homework Auto‑Writer. Just give me any pen—
Liyan: (snatches pen back) No way! Last thing I need is my notebook writing "I am Iron Man" in the physics exam.
Doramon: (tilts head) Actually, good idea. Shall I test?
Liyan: (facepalms) Bhagwan, give me strength.
---
Narration (closing line):
As they stepped out into the buzzing Indore streets, Liyan realized two terrifying truths:
1. His "cousin" was here to stay.
2. And his life was never, ever going to be normal again.