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Strange things have happened and stranger things there will be, but today she is sure to find no anomalies. Everything will go as planned from start to finish.
Shuhua looks through the window.
Outside, the maple leaves hanging from stick thin branches, their colours have grown warmer with every visit.
The leaves haven't yet fallen to the ground, but they soon will, and Shuhua wonders when that will exactly happen.
Perhaps tomorrow.
A week after.
The following month if she wants to be more accurate with her predictions.
She wonders what it would be like to dangle so far up in the sky, and when the weather is dropping in degrees, what it would be like to drift at the mercy of the swaying breeze down to the ground.
Returning to dust.
Existing as is.
"Shuhua's capabilities will be limited if she shares a room with a low-tier."
The principal exhales audibly through his nose at her mother's words. "Your request is unreasonable, Mrs. Yeh. At our academy, we only allow changes to dorm arrangements if a student's well-being is in danger."
Her mother's face does not twitch. Not even the slightest, remaining as calm as earlier when she had entered the principal's office 20 minutes ago.
Shuhua wouldn't know the exact time they've spent here, she hasn't been counting or looking at the clock on the wall.
The view through the window has been a nice distraction.
"I will repeat myself. The school year hasn't even begun and as far as I'm concerned, rooming with someone she hasn't even met yet will not hinder her in the slightest. There is no good reason for her to change rooms." The man is most likely at his wit's end and he sounds quite exasperated.
It is commendable though how he tries to mirror her mother's demeanour. All while wearing an ill-fitted maroon suit and a gaudy polka-dot tie.
"I will turn down your request. Again," he says.
This will be their last visit for the time being until the start of the school year in two weeks. Her mother will make sure of that.
Nothing is done in halves, and they won't leave until a desirable outcome has been achieved.
"With all due respect, more than three quarters of Cube Academy's funding comes from the Ministry of Education," her mother continues without batting an eye, like she's stating simple observations about the weather, "it would be a shame if that pool of funds was diverted to a more worthwhile cause, wouldn't it? There are plenty of other superhero academies in need of extra funding these days."
His jaw tightens. Face taking on a hint of red.
"Are you suggesting my school's budget will be cut if I do not listen to your demands?"
"I have merely made suggestions, and you have come to your own conclusions. Though I must say, you're quite imaginative to assume I would carry through with such underhanded tactics."
His skin turns an even deeper shade of red. "Right then," he grunts.
Shuhua watches a leaf come off a branch. It hadn't fallen, a little girl had plucked it as her father lifted her in the air. The wet leaf freezes in the girl's hands, ice crystals forming a thin layer.
"I'll see what I can do." The principal clicks on his mouse a few times.
Shuhua closes her eyes.
----
The day she moves out is almost like any other.
There’s no excitement in the air even as she wakes up in the same four-cornered room, knowing it’ll be the last time in a long while. Her heart beats its regular rhythm when she goes to eat at the kitchen table, spotting her luggage near the front door.
She grabs the steamed bun from her plate. Its warmth and fluffiness makes her chew a little slower, trying to savour the red bean paste inside.
Head down, reading the morning newspaper at the same table, her mother isn’t looking at her. “Your new roommate is Seo Soojin, a high-tier with a power level of 7.8. Her ability is time manipulation.”
Shuhua can’t say she’s surprised at the turn of events. She knew she wouldn’t room with someone below a level of 4.0.
“You know what to do.”
There is no illusion of choice. There has only ever been one answer. Trained a thousand times, Shuhua’s response comes automatically. “Yes.”
When her mother raises her head, actually looks her in the eye, Shuhua stills her beating heart instinctively. Thinks only of her future and what it should be, knowing her mind can be probed at any moment.
No smiles, no physical cues. Her mother's attention seemingly goes back to the newspaper, offering a single parting word.
“Good.”
----
Tugging her suitcase into her dorm room, unpacking, tidying, Shuhua does it all swiftly.
She barely acknowledges the other girl already in the room, on what is her side of their room.
They greet each other out of formality though.
Shuhua pretends she has never seen her before. She acts like the picture of Soojin from weeks ago that she saw in the principal’s office isn’t burned in her memory. The picture’s strong facial features, her captivating eyes have come alive in front of her.
Soojin introduces herself and Shuhua has to withstand shivers of disgust running down her spine.
Insincerity laces her tongue, poisoning every word as Shuhua says her own name. Their meeting isn’t natural. It had been carefully orchestrated from the start.
She’s now supposed to make small talk, feign interest in Soojin, get close to her.
And Shuhua can’t bring herself to do it. She just sees Soojin hopping onto her bed, going on her phone so Shuhua does the same.
The flavour of today’s doomscroll is reels of ASMR baking videos.
Ultimately, yeast, rising dough, and very satisfying bread slicing does nothing to distract her. Her mind keeps going to the living, breathing, and doomscrolling problem made of flesh on the other side of her room.
Soojin being in this very room served the singular purpose of covering up Shuhua’s weakness. How can this be genuine?
Soojin’s file said it all. She can stop time, the world halts before her, and you’d be conscious of it if you were within her vicinity. Stuck in place, unable to move, but you’d know time has frozen. And you’d watch her, green-eyed.
Envious that she can move. Time stops only for her.
It has to be one of the strongest abilities known to mankind. This is the stuff someone would kill for; she could get a taste of Soojin’s power, and Shuhua knows she should be gleeful, brimming with excitement at the very least.
Honestly, she doesn't know what's wrong with herself.
She only feels tired.
She has physically left home where expectations have kept piling since birth, but she still feels tired. Maybe she has only deluded herself into thinking she has escaped. There’s no barbed tongue and critiques thrown at her in the moment, yet there’s a small voice in her head. Telling her she hasn’t left, she's still that little girl. Everything has merely followed her.
So it’s like that she goes to bed, wanting to dream of nothing.
----
The first day of class stretches into the first week, then blends into the first month.
Hushed chatter accompanies her in the hallways, into classrooms. Wherever she goes, it’s hard to miss. She’d have to be a fool to not realize.
Eyes are watching, judging her every move, and Shuhua catches the beginnings and tail ends of every whisper. She pretends she doesn’t hear. Since she can remember, she has always been a quick learner so naturally—
As natural as it can be.
She learns to hold her head high.
She imagines herself above these endless rumours. That they don’t sting. They don’t hurt.
Maybe this is what she gets for being the new girl, a high-tier who's a complete mystery to the student population. There was bound to be endless gossip. It’s just a fact she has to get used to.
Some rumours are plain nonsense.
She hasn’t given anyone a black eye since her arrival. No one has developed amnesia after running into her in the washroom. She doesn’t—she’ll never steal some poor kid’s lunch money and replace his fresh crisp bills with extremely loose change.
Some rumours are partially true. Not quite hitting the bullseye, but striking in its vicinity, they’re the ones about her entry into the academy. Blackmail, bribes, a rich family backing her. Mentions of her parents being high-ranking government officials. Her father is a brilliant shapeshifter. Her mother comes from a bloodline of the most powerful psychics.
She learns to tune the whispers out.
They’re beyond her control, and what she can’t change, she must ignore. If she lets them get under her skin, it will be like a thousand paper cuts upon her. Killing her on the inside ever so slowly.
If she tells herself that they can’t hurt her, it becomes true eventually. Just like a self-fulfilling prophecy.
She can’t let this nonsense distract her. She’s at Cube Academy for a reason, whether she likes it or not. She’s not here to befriend the entire student population.
So she keeps to herself. The odd occasional classmate might approach her, but they soon leave her alone once they realize she's not giving them anything to work with. Something about her drives them off; maybe it’s that she responds with only a few curt words.
Maybe she's really as cold and unforgiving as the rumours say.
She thinks she's got it figured out though.
The first couple times people came to her, she could chalk up those encounters to pure curiosity. The ones after?
They want something from her.
And Shuhua isn't one to willingly give.
----
It’s not like there’s someone physically forcing Shuhua to train after school hours. She doesn’t need to be at the gym, flicking on light switches, and setting up training equipment at 7 pm.
Some part of her loathes the fact she’s here to escape socialising with Soojin at the dorm. It’s the only agency she has. She’ll take that speck of it, and run the whole mile. The irony of it all is that she’s still training. And training means getting faster, stronger, pushing herself to the limit to be the best superhero she can be. It means she’s still chasing a dream that isn't hers.
But one day, if she works at it, still keeps chasing away—surely a dream that wasn’t hers will become hers to own.
Shuhua goes to the control panel on the wall, burying the rest of her thoughts. Playing around with the settings, she inputs a couple commands at whim. If there is the option, she swipes everything to the max.
From high above, the speakers countdown. Blaring, buzzing for every second. Shuhua empties her mind.
Takes a deep breath, grounding herself with the five seconds she has left.
Then the boom of cannons firing thunders through the gym.
Tennis balls from all angles fly at her. Impossibly fast.
She leaves everything to her reflexes. There is no time to be scared, no time to stop. Always in motion, fluidity guides her limbs. Like that, she can’t even feel the burning strain in her muscles. She listens, sees, and moves.
Go with the flow, don’t think.
Don’t stop.
Before she knows it, the last of the tennis balls have hit the walls and the floor.
It’s quiet once more save for the breaths she takes—in and out, slightly heavier than before.
Unscathed without a scratch like always, and for some reason she can’t find any pride in herself. No sense of triumph. Something should be swelling within her chest, making her stand even taller. Prouder.
“You’re incredible, do you know that?”
She whips around.
Senses alert.
On the bleachers to the side, Soojin smiles when their eyes meet. Shuhua can’t find any mockery or cruelty in her gaze, no maliciousness.
Walking over, Shuhua wonders how she didn’t know.
Have her senses dulled?
Another person snuck into the gym, and she had no idea. Granted she was in the zone, dodging tennis balls, but she should’ve noticed regardless.
Soojin truly isn’t a top student for nothing.
“Thanks,” Shuhua stands before Soojin, staring down at her, and it makes her uneasy. Hovering over someone who is more than likely her equal feels wrong. “How long were you watching?”
“Since a minute ago. I was hoping to get in some training alone, but it seems like someone beat me to the punch.”
Soojin is soft-spoken, her presence is calming and for some reason Shuhua decides she’ll put on a friendly facade for once. On a whim.
“Well since I unknowingly put on a show for you, mind if you do the same? It’s only fair,” she proposes.
“Of course.” Soojin cracks her knuckles, stretching her arms and legs. Going over to the control panel, Soojin throws a look back. Her roommate exhibits confidence, the kind that’s all self-assurance and belief in her own ability.
The countdown starts.
It sounds even louder than before, blocking coherent thoughts in her mind.
“Watch all you want.” Soojin moves to the centre of the gym, closing her eyes at the last second to zero.
The cannons fire at those same impossible speeds and rates.
But there’s plenty of time to think.
The balls slow down. Suddenly halting.
Shuhua has seen Soojin’s ability in action before, yet nothing compares to this single moment. The world has come to a stop. Anticipation starts thumping a little harder against her chest. Her own pulse beats rumbles against her ears, drawn in a spell of electromagnetism.
Invisible fires light across Shuhua’s psyche, burning so beautifully. It’s wicked she didn’t notice from the start. There’s something so enthralling, so captivating about seeing someone in their element. Especially when Soojin’s potential is just like hers—limitless.
Shuhua spots Soojin for who she is.
They’re kindred spirits, she can tell right away. It wouldn’t take much for her to get close to Soojin.
And this realization sickens her, but maybe she’s tired. A month of keeping boundaries she set up of her own volition, and she’ll finally admit it. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to get close to Soojin.
Soojin who is taking her sweet time walking over to the control panel. Relaxed in her step. Cool, calm and collected in what she does.
The girl flicks off the switches.
On cue, the world comes back to life.
Tennis balls hit the far wall, bouncing harmlessly onto the ground.
Shuhua knows she's far too spellbound. Thoughts she shouldn't have run through her head until the last second. When it's over, Soojin walks back to her, brimming with quiet pride. And nothing stops Shuhua from giving in.
“Why aren’t you the number one ranked student?”
Soojin looks at her funny.
Shuhua doesn’t shy away, she stares back.
“Because that’s you?” Soojin replies.
It surprises her. How easily her next words slip from her own mouth. “I don’t deserve it, it just so happened I was born a high tier.”
Too fast, too honest. Something about Soojin is disarming.
“What you just did doesn’t come without hard work, unless your power is superhuman speed,” says Soojin.
“It’s not.”
Soojin smirks; the fires across her psyche continue to blaze their destructive paths.
“Yeah, I figured, but you’re acting too humble for your own good. The world places high tiers on a pedestal so we might as well act the part. It’s more fun that way, don’t you think?”
Shuhua has to bite back a snort. She has met many high tiers, none of them were like Soojin though. This girl is aware of how society perceives her, and she doesn’t resist. She accepts their judgement. She rolls with it, wearing stereotypes as a second skin.
“Whatever you say. I think the pressures of society have rotted your brain,” Shuhua replies, completely contrary to her true thoughts. Budding admiration, respect, a natural liking—what is taking shape will have to be later nipped and buried.
Once again, Soojin stares at her funny.
“I think society has rotted your brain as well.”
Shuhua agrees.
----
The change in their dynamic creeps up on her the very next day.
Shuhua lazes in bed, wrapped in her blanket. Scrolls through Instagram mindlessly. Barely engaging with posts. She presses ‘like’ on a dog video every now and then.
Classes were extra long and unbearable because it's Career Day. The lesson she learns is she should’ve stayed at the dorm.
To be fair, some of her classmates probably found it fun, helpful even. They got exposed to what post-academy life could be like, and they didn’t have to attend their usual classes. Trades, jobs, university, college, gap years—plenty of options to consider. Of course her peers ate it all up.
To Shuhua though, all that information is useless.
She has known for a while now that there’s only one path ahead of her after graduation.
Today might as well have been a ‘turn off her brain for 7 hours’ kind of day. Keeping up with the theme, she had decided to spend the rest of the evening vegetating. Being dull. Inactive.
While scrolling through her social media accounts, Shuhua keeps a subtle eye on Soojin. Her roommate had a similar reaction to her throughout the day. Except Soojin was nodding off. Falling asleep in a blink whenever a guest lecturer took the stage.
It's a contrast to see Soojin up and about now. Any signs of sleepiness are gone, replaced by an aura determination. Not the burning kind, but determination nonetheless.
Next to the door, Soojin puts on sneakers, ties back her hair. Hardly spares her a glance. “I’m heading to the gym. Do you want to come?”
Shuhua pretends to think about it, her answer already decided.
Having a training partner wouldn’t be so bad.
----
7 pm at the gym becomes a regular occurrence.
What Shuhua likes about Soojin is she’s serious about training. When she trains, she means business. No messing around.
The only snippets of conversation between them are about how to improve their form, hone their senses and how to get stronger.
“Wait a little longer before you punch.”
“Throw your whole body into that kick. Again. Just like that.”
It’s easy being with Soojin. Shuhua doesn’t need to think too hard when talking to her. It’s even better since Soojin is around her level in skill and talent. In the past, she despised training with others. It always felt like she had to go easy on them. Restrain herself because they can’t keep up with her.
Soojin does more than just keeping up with her.
Shuhua can’t consistently beat her. It’s a toss up depending on how focused she herself is, whether she wants to draw upon and mimic her mother’s ability. More often than not, she relies only on her physical capabilities, especially during spars.
Like now.
Her own leg is mid-kick. Shuhua doesn’t catch the signs.
Soojin quickly sweeps Shuhua’s standing leg.
She feels herself falling backwards. Loses balances.
Running on instincts, she tries to turn so she’ll land safely. But for once—she doesn’t need to. She never hits the ground.
Arms outstretched, catching her. Soojin pulls her upright.
Still firmly gripping her right hand, Soojin pats her on the back. As if performing a check-up. “You alright?”
Shuhua groans, unable to mask her annoyance. She wriggles out of Soojin’s hold. Plops onto the mat, feeling utterly grossed out by the sweat clinging to her own shirt. “I’m fine. What’s not fine is my pride, this is my second consecutive loss to you tonight.”
“Better luck next time.”
“I liked you better when you actually meant that.”
“I’ll mean it when you put in more effort,” Soojin joins her on the mat, sitting cross-legged. Shuhua scoots a little closer, but she doesn’t lean onto Soojin. They’re not that close yet. There are some lines that shouldn’t be crossed.
“Shuhua? Can I ask you something?”
“What is it?”
“Why don’t you use your ability more when we spar?”
Tired satisfaction evaporates. She’s immediately on guard, ready to put up mental walls. She’s not sure how to answer. How much does she want to share?
Her sudden stiffness must’ve been obvious. Soojin backtracks. Shuhua perceives it as her trying to ease off. “Of course, it’s more fun not using our powers—”
“What do you think my ability is?”
“Honestly, for a long time, I thought it was total concentration. Now I have no idea.”
Shuhua takes a deep breath. Weighs her options. She could tell the truth, or at least to an extent.
A cruel voice in the back of her mind urges her onward. Is there a better way to befriend someone than this? She could share a part of herself little to no one in the academy knows about. With secrets comes trust.
Shuhua wants to believe there’s more to it than that. Telling Soojin everything seems more and more appealing by the second. No matter how she spins her story, Soojin will understand.
They’re birds of a feather. Cut from the same cloth in society.
And it does get lonely at the top.
“My ability is mimicry,” Shuhua pauses, continuing only when she knows exactly what she’s going to say, “there’s no one’s powers I want to mimic right now.”
“You could copy mine. From now on, I’m giving you my full permission.”
God. Shuhua tries to stay serious—it’s not everyday she talks about her ability with other people. Let alone someone who’s a little more than an acquaintance. But she can’t. It starts deep in her belly, and then she’s laughing. Feeling lighter than before, a burden lifted from her shoulder.
Because how ridiculous is it, how sweet can Soojin be?
“That’s not how it works. I can’t just mimic people’s powers with or without permission.”
“Then tell me how it works,” Soojin counters.
“A lady has her secrets, I’d have to kill you if I told you.”
“Fine, fine. Keep your secrets. But seriously, you can copy my powers whenever you want.”
Shuhua just smiles. “Alright, I’ll keep that in mind.”
----
Attending Cube Academy has been a stepping stone beaten into her aspirations. She trains, trains some more. She pushes herself until determination overwhelms fatigue. The next step, another goal to reach is always on the horizon.
Shuhua doesn’t have much of an opinion on this matter. There never has been time for her to stop. Think. Question. She can’t recall when her head was last filled with dreams.
She now finds herself hoping every day. Dreaming of distractions that should’ve been purged from her mind. Longing for something she can’t put a name to yet.
She starts sticking to Soojin.
They sit beside each other in classes, they grab food together, they trade blows and pointers in the gym. Shuhua can’t believe she had resisted this for so long.
But to every action, there’s consequences. People notice. They talk.
As luck would have it, the student press publishes articles stating she’s sticking to Soojin in a way reminiscent of how historians describe close roommates.
Nonsense.
Absolute nonsense.
The funniest part is she no longer cares. Somewhere in her twisted head, she has convinced herself what she’s doing is a form of resistance in its own. She’ll get close to Soojin. She’ll do that on her own volition, and it’ll be genuine this time. She wholly wants Soojin in her life.
Because now there’s more to it than just befriending her for the sake of getting stronger. Soojin is intriguing. Soojin plays around with expectations. She works on herself and doesn’t mind what others say. Rumours are water droplets; her mindset is oil. Shuhua wants to be more like her.
Wishes she could keep some of that uncaring confidence to herself.
Maybe this way, she’ll enjoy her time at Cube Academy a little more.
----
"Count for me?" Soojin glances at her before fiddling with the gym's control panel once more.
"Yeah."
Muscles sore, breathing finally returning to its regular rhythm, Shuhua blinks away any tiredness. She sits a little straighter, her back to the matted wall. Delights in the cool floor against her skin.
"Okay, I'm ready," says Soojin. Pressing a final button.
As expected, a short buzz sounds from the speakers.
Tennis balls audibly load into the cannons hidden in the walls and ceiling.
All hell breaks loose.
Momentarily, Shuhua can only hear the booming cannons. Blocking everything out.
And right away.
Suspended in motion, all matter and sound cease to be.
Diligently—
Shuhua starts counting the seconds in her head. Watches Soojin from where she is, close but not too far away. Close enough that she can tell the girl has closed her eyes, and is murmuring under her breath.
Shuhua counts, locking her muscles in place. Afraid to move and accidentally make a sound.
She takes this as an opportunity to study Soojin again. Ardently traces an invisible line down the angle of her nose, follows the shape of her mouth. Finally dipping to her chin.
She rests her case. Soojin in her element is something of a marvel.
A bubble in time created just like that.
Freezing everything in place because she wills it.
Jealousy doesn't have a place in Shuhua’s heart. Not at this moment. She keeps counting without urgency.
Wonders when this brief comfortable space with them in it—Shuhua and Soojin—will finally break.
Then.
The boom of the cannons return in full force.
Time has resumed.
Tennis balls relentlessly fly after Soojin. Amidst the chaos, Shuhua hears "Turn it off! Turn it off!"
She regains her senses, quickly dashing to the control panel. Ends the session.
The cannons stop their pelting.
The gym regains its cold quiet nature. Soojin jogs over, and her heavier breathing is terribly loud to Shuhua's ears.
"How did I do?"
"What’s the longest you've ever stopped time?" asks Shuhua.
"The longest I've ever stopped time? 30 seconds. That was one time, I haven't replicated it since."
"Well, congratulations. It's 47 seconds, much longer than the last time." Shuhua can't contain her pride. She speaks as if it's her own achievement and she's got something to show off.
"By eighteen seconds? Even I can't believe it," Soojin beams.
Hesitates.
Then shyly looks away.
"I don't know what it is, I don't like to say these things often," begins Soojin, "but ever since we started training together, I feel like I’m improving so fast every time."
Soojin stops. As if looking for permission to continue.
A part of Shuhua softens impossibly so. "I feel the same."
"Yeah?"
Shuhua nods. "We're good together. You and I." She's not sure what compels her to say that. She just feels it's right.
Of course, Soojin whines. Looks down, hides her face.
Giving Shuhua enough time to rethink and retract her thoughts. She changes course. "We make a good team. Soojin and Shuhua. You can't get rid of me that easily from now on."
"This is too embarrassing, let's stop."
Warm, irreplaceable, and soft edges have wormed their way into her heart. Sirens ring their song in her head. Shuhua simply delights in the situation and her feelings, existing as is.
----
“Look at this. We’re teaming up together for this week’s mission.”
Soojin points at the bulletin board.
No surprises there, it’s been a long time coming. Shuhua rubs the sleep out of her eyes and takes a better look at the board. Just to see if her eyes aren’t deceiving her.
“Oh.”
“You don’t sound happy,” Soojin observes.
“I’m happy.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I’m just… wondering why it took so long for us to go on a mission together,” Shuhua lies through her teeth. This is her first mission with Cube Academy, but surely, Soojin wouldn’t know how she’s feeling. Thoughts of what could go wrong plague her. The more Shuhua thinks, the more she’s starting to feel sick. The only ability she can copy reliably right now is her mother’s.
And that is not an option she’s willing to entertain. For her sanity.
“The academy probably needed us to carry our classmates on our backs,” Soojin notes. What a bold statement—to others, she’d be outright obnoxiously bragging. Shuhua knows she’s only stating the truth. “Can’t have us team up together or else there would be no missions left for others to do.”
“Soojin, you’re awfully confident today.”
“What can I say? I’ve already done a couple in the past month.”
“With who?”
“Soyeon.”
“Who?”
“She’s a girl in our year, and,” Soojin’s smile brightens, the corners of her mouth lifting imperceptibly, “she’s brilliant.”
Shuhua restrains herself from raising an eye at that. “Alright, I’ll ask again. Who is she?”
“Pyrokinesis, member of the Disciplinary Committee, I’ve never seen something like her before.”
“Manipulating fire is one of the most common abilities in the world.” She has to wonder now. What kind of person is Soyeon for her to have gotten Soojin like this?
Shy.
Fidgeting.
Giddy. Soojin’s teeth show as she grins so widely a part of Shuhua begins to ache.
“Yes, but she’s different. You’ll see, I’ll introduce her to you one day, she’s like us.”
“No promises there, I don’t know her, and I don’t care to know her.” It’s a little mean, but whatever happened to uncaring confidence? Shuhua needs some of that now.
“Whatever you say won’t change my mind, I still have to introduce her to you one day. She’s just brilliant. I think you two will get along.”
“Keep dreaming then. I want to focus on this week’s mission instead.”
“Okay, okay.” Soojin mutters at first dejectedly, and Shuhua just ignores her until she’s saying something worthwhile.
It doesn't take long for Soojin to slip back into her brazen front. “Well it’s going to be easy for sure, Shuhua. A search and seize. We’ll be in and out of the lab within seconds. Those robot blueprints will be gone before their makers even know it.”
Soojin’s confidence carries her through the week.
And when the time for the mission rolls around, Shuhua has also become self-assured, believing all will go well.
They set out after dark, their route pre-planned. Wearing masks and black caps, they’re as unrecognizable as they can get without looking out of place. Boarding the bus outside of Cube Academy, they ride for a few stops. Get off, and head into the nearest underground metro station.
Their commute continues until the subway deposits them in the side of town known for its industrial buildings. At this time at night, only a few stragglers are left on the street with most workers already home. Turning the corner, no one sees them slip into a car assembly plant with fake employee IDs.
The layout of the building and the location of the blueprints have been memorized. Without further words, Shuhua and Soojin make their way through twisting hallways, past assembly lines. To where they’re supposed to be.
The workshop.
It’s almost too easy with the way the blueprints are front and centre on the table.
They both approach the table, and that’s their first mistake of the night.
Backs turned away from the door.
It’s impossible to have seen it coming. The sound of rushing steps is her final clue. Soojin springs into action before her.
“Look out!”
Time stops.
The slim figure has his fist almost brushing against Shuhua’s temple. Less than a second from knocking her out.
Her instincts kick in, and she taps into Soojin’s ability. Frees herself from the confines of time. Whipping around, she clenches her fist. Hits his jaw.
A clean blackout.
Quickly scanning the room, she sees he wasn’t their only assailant. There’s another woman suspended in the air. Wings sprout from her back.
"30 seconds more, I can't hold on longer!” Amidst the chaos, Soojin already has the blueprint tucked under her arm.
Shuhua grabs Soojin, and they run.
"I've got you, I'm already stopping time with you. We need to get out," says Shuhua, racking her brain.
"No, we won't make it. I won't make it. We need to take her out." Soojin is already changing direction. Running to the room with the assembly lines instead of the exit.
Shuhua won't question her. She knows what Soojin has in mind, and it just might work. Their opponent has wings, she won't fit through the door. It'll be the perfect chance for an ambush. Shuhua sprints after Soojin.
They rush in there, and Shuhua knows what they need to do. She starts turning on all the machines, Soojin joins her immediately.
Time resumes for both of them.
The machinery whirs to life. Causing a ruckus.
Not a moment to spare, the pair take their places near the door, listening for the flap of wings.
They don't have to wait long.
Wings retract, a foot through the doorway.
And it's lights out for the woman.
----
On a lazy Sunday afternoon, Soojin had asked her if she wanted to go to a cafe. She said 'yes' without hesitation. Sometimes it surprises her how easily she indulges Soojin’s whims. (“ The Iced Americano here has raving reviews, we have to go”).
And it’s just Iced Americano for heaven’s sake. It tastes the same everywhere. Shuhua stops whining however, when Soojin pays for her drink. She can be bribed for a price.
It also doesn’t take long for their drinks to arrive.
The barista calls out a name.
“Susan! Iced americano for Susan. Iced americano for Soojin.”
Her dear beloved friend doesn’t bother looking up from her phone. Soojin only nudges her shoulder. Murmurs. “Go get it.”
“Why did you put my name as ‘Susan’?”
“Do more, ask less questions.”
Obedient as ever, Shuhua does what she’s told. She swallows the fight in her, holds back on grumbling.
Hands over Soojin’s drink.
“Thanks.” Soojin takes a sip of her coffee. “I want to get your opinion on something, Shu.”
Shuhua sees what’s coming from a mile away.
“I’m thinking of joining the Disciplinary Committee. Soyeon seems so busy and stressed these days, maybe I could help her out,” says Soojin, “and I don’t know, get closer to her?”
“You’re not the type to discipline people, and you know we'll get busier with missions. We're the most sought after duo now.” Shuhua isn't even sugarcoating. After the success of their first mission together, they're constantly paired up. They've never missed a week.
“I know, but it’ll lessen the stress. She won’t have to be a leader in the school alone. I can shoulder some of her burdens.”
“Soojin, you get tired of people’s antics so fast you default to not perceiving them.”
“You’re right,” admits Soojin. Distractedly, eyes and mind elsewhere. "I really like her though."
Shuhua’s phone rings at this very moment. The caller ID is front and centre on the screen, but her head isn't registering who it is. Caught up in thinking, she knows she has overstepped. She finds herself wanting something that isn't hers to take.
“Excuse me, I’ll just be a second,” Shuhua says smoothly. Because it seems normal, it’s the right course of action—don’t let her feelings show, pretend nothing has changed.
Her own mannerisms seem natural in her head.
Soojin looks her once over. “Is everything okay?”
She’s trying to put on an act, and even that has failed. It’s like Soojin can see straight through her. She doesn’t know why, what it is that’s driving her to move.
She turns tail. Heads outside while a single thought runs through her mind on repeat. Leave. Leave. And it changes to don’t think about it.
Shuhua learns something about herself. She can be really green if she wants to be.
Faced with an ugly truth no one wants to confront—the next step is to look for something. Hope for a distraction. She presses the ‘answer’ button. Not even checking who’s calling.
And oh, she should’ve done so.
The voice that greets her chases away any wandering thoughts. Takes her back to when she didn’t know better. Ice in her lungs and she’s a naive child once more.
What bad timing.
“I know what you've done,” her mother articulates every syllable clearly, makes sure her words puncture and are rooted to stay. “Yeh Shuhua you are a disgrace to our family.”
“What have I done?”
There's too much going on, feelings running on haywire. Grasping at straws desperately, she has to erase all emotion. Tries her hardest to not shrink into herself out of fear or out of habit—she no longer has any idea. Her mother isn't physically here. She can't read her mind.
“Come to your senses. You are at Cube Academy for a purpose, to refine your ability. You are there to remove your weakness. Do not tell me you’ve made no progress in befriending Soojin.”
“I have. I have made progress.”
“And you have nothing to show for it? Why was your first mission only a month ago?”
“We're friends now. I’m with her this very instant,” she’s on the defensive. Always justifying herself like there must always be proof. Her word alone can't be taken at face value.
The only consolation prize is this conversation isn't happening in-person. Her heart can afford to beat faster, her breaths can grow shallower.
A lull.
A click of the tongue.
“Your father and I have worked hard for you to be where you are today. Everything we've done is for you, do not disappoint us again.”
The line cuts off. Hung up.
Shuhua opens the messaging app. Shoots Soojin a quick text.
hey, I’m not feeling well. I’ll see you back at the dorm
She leaves and doesn’t look behind her.
----
Absorbed into the rhythm of folding clothes, Shuhua doesn’t think anymore. Every motion is on auto-pilot. Nothing is registering in her head, and she wills it blank. Empty.
The fabric sliding past her fingers feels alien.
As if this body is not her own.
She’s watching the motions go by and somehow there is a neat pile forming atop the washing machine. Reach into the machine. Pull a piece of clothing. Fold and fold. There’s work, there’s clearly work being done, but she’s a spectator nonetheless. Taken in by the predictable rhythm, she barely picks up on the click of the front door.
Approaching footsteps.
The illusory coloured film her eyes are privy to shatters instantly, ejecting her from the seat of a spectator. The blank canvas is gone, her mind opening to a floodgate of thoughts.
Her hands react before she realises what’s happening.
Muffling, covering up the first of heaving sobs. She’s biting down on the back of her hand. To futile ends, steeling herself because she shouldn’t be doing this. The pain distracts for a second, but not long enough. Shuhua restricts herself. Keeps her cries from bursting aloud.
The same footsteps come rushing in.
“Shuhua?”
Soojin. It’s just Soojin.
Shuhua should turn around. Wipe her tears away and then she’ll face her with a clean slate. Perhaps it’s fear of brokenness that freezes her in place, scared to see Soojin’s expression.
When Soojin wraps her arms around her, hugging her from the back, her voice seems far away. Distant even though her warmth is real. “It’ll be okay. Cry it all out.”
Soojin’s hold on her is secure, shaking her into movement once more. Shuhua tries to wipe clean any last traces though it’s not effective. “You’ll feel better after you’ve cried.”
Her whimpering steadily wanes.
Until she can finally catch her breath. A little unsteady, Shuhua finds her voice. “How did you get here so fast? I thought you were still at the cafe.”
She feels Soojin’s arms tightening around her. Squeezing briefly.
“You left so suddenly, I knew something was wrong. I thought I’d come back to check on you.”
Shuhua doesn’t know how to respond.
“Want to talk about it?” says Soojin.
Unintentionally again, she’s stuck in the same place. Debating whether she should share more of herself with Soojin. She’s tired and sick of this. Whatever this was—pressure weighing her down, feelings she can’t seem to get rid of. She’s not sure which one is worse.
Soojin somehow senses her reluctance. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk. Get some rest.”
She knows Soojin means to comfort her, but all it does is make her want to cry until she can’t feel her throat anymore.
----
It was supposed to be like this.
Get close to the strongest student in the academy. Befriend them.
Mimic their powers.
And then it’s all set. No one would ever know her weakness—that she’s tied down to things as simple as familial bonds, friendships, and romantic love. She’s only as strong as the connections she makes.
Well. Shuhua has never been one to fail at any task.
Maybe that’s why she’s back at the gym, alone this time.
Pitch black greets her.
Intuitively, her hand goes to the switch on the wall, flicking it on.
The harsh white light from above is initially jarring, still disorienting after all this time, all these times she has done this. Blinking, a few seconds pass and it’s alright. Her eyes have adjusted.
Muscle memory guides her to the other side of the gym, striding without much thought to the storage room. Pulling on the handle, opening the door, every piece of training equipment is where it belongs. Cleaned and stacked neatly on the shelves.
Shuhua walks past the medicine balls. The training dummies. The ankle weights.
She’s already at the control panel, typing in the password, unlocking access. Free to pick amongst the various training programs.
She doesn’t choose the maximum intensity options. A single cannon from the ceiling will suffice for what she intends to do.
The timer is set.
As the countdown blares through the speakers, she heads back into the gym, not bothering to shut the door behind her.
And takes a deep breath. Closing her eyes.
Once she hears the cannon fire, her gut clenches.
The moment the tennis ball is no longer whistling in the air, Shuhua starts counting in her head.
Focusing only on the seconds going by.
Even as minutes of silence pass ever so slowly.
Here: she lets herself be, existing in this moment of empty space. The meaning behind the increasing seconds, the truth in the numbers, they're irrelevant.
Shuhua doesn't stop counting.
When the coil in her stomach is stretched too thin, too close to snapping, she hangs on for a bit longer. Holding her breath, she knows she can shoulder through despite nearing her absolute limit.
She feels lightheaded like she’s floating and her consciousness is wandering freely. But there’s still purpose. She grits through it, pulls at the coil even harder, pushing against an invisible barrier.
She’ll stretch and tug at it as long as she can.
And it's exhaustion, a sense of defeated that crumbles down on her. A sharp recoil. Much needed air fills her lungs. Shuhua relents, repeating the number of seconds under her breath. She doesn’t know why she does it.
The sound of balls shooting through the air returns.
Her feet are rooted to the ground.
“It's 47 seconds, much longer than the last time.”
A tennis ball bounces off her shoulder, imparting sharp lingering pain. Though the idea of checking in at the infirmary briefly crosses her mind, that’s not the first thought running in circles inside her head.
Soojin’s record can’t compare.