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Sayeon was out of essence.
Well, that was to be expected, considering how much of her gift she’d used. It was a miracle that no one had caught on to what her gift might be.
Or maybe they have and just want to see what you do-
She shook her head like that would clear her mind.
No, that couldn’t be it, that wasn’t it.
She looked at herself in the mirror. Tangled hair, messy clothes, baggy eyes, everything about her reflection screamed exhausted. Too exhausted to practice basic self-care. Not that she really cared about herself.
You look more like psychotic, Ryujin would say-
Sayeon grimaced at that thought.
Psychotic? Like my mother? Like Samin? I’m not like them. I’m not psychotic.
Sayeon was the most normal person you’d ever meet. She followed the rules to a T, did exactly what was expected of her in the Corps, all the right things-
“Why are you so obsessed with rules?”
Obsessed clearly was not the right word for it. Ryujin must need to get her eyes checked, because she was perfectly normal. Sayeon was completely fine and the most boring person ever, which was good.
Then why does Ryujin keep telling you otherwise?
She somehow mustered the strength to make it back to her cot before collapsing from being so essence drained. She’d told Min already she was way too tired to do their training tonight.
How did she even get so tired?
Oh. Now she remembered.
Sayeon remembered rewinding. She remembered rewinding a lot. She remembered that desire for perfection.
If you do everything right, follow all the rules, everything’s going to be alright. You will get your red tie and have a happy office life.
That’s what the desire told her. It kept repeating that to her. Sayeon was smart enough not to believe it, but it was so… compelling. To the point where she would worry so, so much if even one thing was out of line. That’s why she kept rewinding.
Slipped and fell on a banana peel? Rewind. She couldn’t have that one simple incident affecting the rest of her life in a butterfly effect. Sayeon couldn’t explain why. She just knew.
Got into an argument with Ryujin? Rewind. She couldn’t have Ryujin thinking of her in such a negative light, if she wanted to use her later. She couldn’t pass up such an opportunity to probe into her mind, finding what makes her tick-
Tock.
Tick, tock.
Tick, tock.
Every second that passed was another that Sayeon could feel slipping from her hands. She could only rewind so far back… What if something happened right now? What if she needed to rewind but couldn’t? She should’ve been so much more careful… She could be doing something with this time. She could prevent a disaster-
Stop it.
Sayeon couldn’t take it any longer. The mental pressure was taking its toll on her brain, and it felt like her head was going to explode-
You’re ending up just like her.
That was it. She wasn’t like her. She would never be. She was related to her by blood, yes, but she was not like her. She kept repeating that to herself, quietly under her covers, because she didn’t-
Want to be seen as crazy? Psychotic? Remember who told Min to cut off Taheo’s hand?
She shook her head. That wasn’t immoral. That was playing by the rules, just as she was supposed to in the Corps. It’s a different rulebook than school, sure, but that doesn’t mean she’s absolutely mad.
If you just play by the rules, everything will turn out fine. If even a single thing isn’t right, you’ll end up just like your sister-
That voice. It was a liar. But she couldn’t just shake it off. No, this voice kept coming back. It just preyed on her deepest insecurities.
It used to say, if you get perfect grades, you’ll be able to outrun your Aberrant bloodline. Ha. Look where that got her.
Now it tells her, if you do everything perfectly in the eyes of the Corps you won’t be like them.
Because she wasn’t like them.
She wasn’t a murderer.
Sure, she ordered the chopping off of Taheo’s hand in cold blood.
But that wasn’t murder.
“Is there something wrong with you? Didn’t your mom tell you what was right and what was wrong?”
There was nothing wrong with her. Absolutely nothing.
Do normal people play chess with their peers as the chess pieces?
Do normal people manipulate and use others for their personal gain?
Do normal people fear of being like their family?
Am I a normal person?
The ticking of the clock kept reminding her of her gift, her aberrancy, her bloodline.
It kept reminding her of her past, her guilt, her trauma.
It was a reminder of who she was and how she had no escape from it.
There was nothing she could do about it.