Chapter Text
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
"Bruh, I'm already so done with AP World," Bini's friend groaned, taking a sip of her iced caramel latte and slumping back into the wooden seat of a nearby Dunkin' Donuts. "Why do I already have mountains of homework? It's only, what, the second week? And tell me why there's a 12-year-old in my AP Compsci class! Hate this damn school…"
Bini giggled, a new feeling of levity in her heart now that she was back. This was it. She was somewhere safe now. She bit back a joke about school being even harder than fending off five monsters singlehandedly. Her friend probably would've agreed anyway, but it was better not to take the risk.
Instead, Bini opted for a "Boy, you'd better lock in. Myla, you're already fifteen now—that's old. If only you were tapped into your education straight out the womb, you would've already graduated college, like, four years ago. Tsk, tsk."
Myla's eyes brightened just then. "Oh, that reminds me! Speaking of fifteen…" she reached into her backpack, rummaging for something. "Hold on—I know it's in here somewhere—aha! Happy birthday, Bini!"
She put a small black box onto the table. When Bini opened it, her face immediately broke out into a wide smile.
Inside was a long black necklace, its silver spiral pendant shaped like a sun. Bini stared at it in awe, still beaming.
"I think bro likes it," Myla murmured, snickering. "I got it off of Etsy for, like, 15 bucks, so don't go crazy over it or anything. I know you like sun motifs 'n' stuff, so…"
"It's perfect," Bini finally spoke. "I won't look at it too long, or else I'll go blind! Aha."
She tried holding a straight face to no avail, bursting out in laughter in what couldn't have been more than a second.
"…Never say that shit again, bro," was what Bini got in reply, paired with choked-up laughter coming from the other side of the table. "Oh yeah, how was your summer?"
There that dreaded question came again, at the start of every single school year, like clockwork.
"I know your parents throw you into that stupid 'unplugged' summer camp every year, but can't you, like… sneak a phone in or something? I dunno," she grumbled. "I know the whole friend group only gets to hang out once or twice, but at least we can still text in the group chat. Hell, maybe even send us letters or something!"
"Wait, the letters thing might actually be a good idea," Bini grinned, only half-joking. Why didn't she think of that earlier? "But I can't sneak my phone in, as much as I want to. Seriously, if they catch me with that it could be dangerous." She was only half-lying.
Myla raised an eyebrow, grinning. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Bini gulped.
"…Anyway," Myla continued, "Maybe if they catch you, they'll, like, kick you out or something. And then you'll be at home for the summer, and you can text us."
"Oh, no, my parents would kill me," Bini shook her head. That place is home, she wanted to say. She bit her tongue.
"What's so good about that place anyway? Your parents just overprotective or sumn'?"
"Yeah, pretty much." Bini was glad Myla accidentally handed her an excuse.
Bini tapped her phone screen; this was the only time in the history of her life that she desperately hoped lunch was over. Bless. "Oh, we should probably head back to school now. It's 1:40."
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
Bini seriously felt like she was about to die of boredom. She knew math was her weak spot from the moment she learned what numbers were, but this was a whole new level of dreadful. It didn't help that it was last period on a Friday, and that her teacher exuded the most nasty vibe she'd ever gotten.
Despite the amount of restraint she tried to exercise, she just couldn't do it. She quietly exited out of the note-taking app on her iPad, pulling up her chatbox with Myla.
myla
myla
myla
bro answer
Lock in bruh
Aren't you in math class rn
bro im trying but i actually can't w this new teacher
ms anderson i think is her name
i feel like my life essence is being drained every second im in her class
can u like come in with a wig and pretend to be me
and answer all the questions right so that i get a good grade
Boy if I pretended to be you Ms. Anderson would just start laughing in my face
Fuck is u talking about
We look nothing alike fool
I'm crying
bro deadass though anderson is lowkey creepy asf
like idk if im hallucinating or what but i keep seeing her in the halls
and she's ALWAYS looking at me
not even in like a normal glancing way either
like istg she BORE into my soul just a few hours ago during passing period
and i don't think she does that to anyone else either??? it's literally just me
she can't be real bro
Bini's flow of thought was interrupted by a scathing voice to her left. "Miss Choi." Holy fuck, when did she get so close?! "Those don't look like notes."
"Oh, um, sorry about that," Bini murmured, feeling her face redden as the classroom filled with "oooh"s. She hoped to the gods that Ms. Anderson didn't see her texts before she closed out the app, but then again, that wasn't likely. After all, the boy sitting right in front of her was visibly playing some game on his laptop, and Ms. Anderson said nothing.
"Moving on…" Ms. Anderson droned, hobbling her way back to the front of the classroom. Phew. At least the humiliation was over.
The rest of the class dragged on and on. Bini was counting down every second until she could get out of there. She didn't have any elaborate plans, but she could at least leave school early, get some cake, and spend time with her parents.
Even those plans were spoiled, though, when the bell rang. Her small class of 19 suddenly felt more like 50 with the way that her classmates were rushing out of the door—probably more to get away from Ms. Anderson than to get out of school.
As she turned to leave, she heard a dreadfully familiar voice ring out. "Not so fast, Miss Choi."
By that point, all of her peers had flooded out of the room. The last classmate to leave closed the door, shooting Bini a look that said something like "Good luck".
Bini turned around. "Just Bini is fine," she squeaked, giving a strained smile.
'Choy' was the way Anderson pronounced it. Sure, it was a common way to butcher Bini's last name, but that didn't mean it felt any less like nails scraping across a chalkboard each time she heard it.
"Um, did you need me for something?" Bini continued. "I'm sorry for not paying attention in class, if that's what you're worried about. I did take notes for most of it, I can show you if you want—"
"Referring to people by their last names is a sign of professionalism and respect, Miss Choi."
Seriously, was she just trying to annoy her at that point? Not when you're mispronouncing said last name! Bini wanted to reply.
"And yes, you're correct. Texting others during class is extremely disrespectful. Please take a seat." Ms. Anderson pointed to a desk right in front of her own, pulling open a drawer after Bini obeyed.
What Bini saw next was definitely up there on her top 10 worst nightmares.
Ms. Anderson lifted a huge stack of papers, dropping it on top of Bini's desk with a small thump. "Please take the time to fill out these worksheets. I'll let you go once you're finished, or once the school closes for the night."
Until the school closes?! Bini glanced at the clock.
2:47.
The school closed at 6.
There was no way Ms. Anderson didn't want her to die, and there was an equally low chance that anyone—even someone with a PhD in mathematics—would finish all that in 3 hours. Seriously, that stack was absurdly large.
Not to mention, Bini only had one birthday per year, like every other person on Earth, and she wanted to spend it well.
"I'm so sorry, Ms. Anderson, but I don't think I can stay behind today. Um, today's my birthday, and I have things planned—maybe on Monday I can come, or I can take it home and bring it back to you next week—"
"That's not possible this time, Miss Choi. You must know the consequences of losing focus," Ms. Anderson cut her off coldly.
"Ms. Anderson, I feel like that's unfair," Bini pushed, becoming increasingly unable to hide her annoyance. "If my grade gets marked down for this, so be it, but I'm lea—"
Ms. Anderson cut her off with an uncharacteristically unprofessional groan. "You demigods are always such a hassle to get rid of. Stupid disguise was all for nothing; should've known that it wouldn't hold up against a child of the truth…"
Huh?
"No matter. Now's a good time to strike anyhow."
Bini herself could barely process what happened. A whoosh of air, the smell of something burning, and her own legs flinging her backward to avoid the sudden attack.
When she opened her eyes again, Bini's breathing became even more ragged. Ms. Anderson's hair was set ablaze, and her human legs were replaced: one was now made of celestial bronze, and the other was that of a goat. As evil as they could be, Bini knew math teachers never looked like that. Standing before her was an empousa.
Bini barely had time to think before the empousa charged at her again, only missing by a hair's margin. She instinctively patted her left thigh, expecting to feel the sheaths of her throwing knives resting on her belt. Instead… nothing.
Shit.
Now she remembered where they were. They were in her house, left untouched ever since she stepped foot off of camp. This was her punishment for letting her guard down.
Nowhere is safe anymore. Tears started to stream down her face.
"Oh, the little demigod doesn't have her weapons? This'll be easy, th—"
No matter how much I try… I can never lead a normal life. I'll never be normal.
I'll never be human.
Is this it? Am I going to die an outcast?
Bini shook those thoughts away, wiping her face dry with her school uniform cardigan. If she was going to die today, she wouldn't go without putting up a fight.
But when she looked back up, she noticed something strange.
The empousa was moving its mouth, but it wasn't saying anything. All that was coming out was a high-pitched ringing frequency that made Bini a little uneasy.
Apparently, it was way worse for the empousa. It immediately keeled over, eyes wide. Bini was never a good lip-reader, but the empousa's mood had clearly shifted from comfortable to… terrified?
Bini slowed her breathing. The creature was a little pitchy at first for some reason, but Bini could eventually make out what it was saying.
"Please… I'm sorry… don't… don't kill me," the empousa stammered, trembling with fear. Bini's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"D-Dude, I don't even have celestial bronze on me. I couldn't even kill you if I tried," Bini replied, her voice shaking. "Just… just go. You got lucky this time." She wasn't sure if she was talking to the empousa or herself.
The empousa seemed to come back to its senses by that point, though it still nodded, avoiding eye contact with Bini. Flames shot up silently, leaving nothing behind in its wake.
For a few seconds, the whole world went silent. The only things Bini could hear were her own thoughts, piling one on top of the other, streaming in and out and around her head until her brain ached.
There was one sentence that played loudly, over and over again. It was the one she was trying the hardest to block out, but it was the only one she could make sense of.
You have to leave.
She fumbled with her messenger bag, getting her phone and calling her mom with shaky fingers.
“Umma? I’m… I’m coming home now," she sputtered in Korean. "But I think I need to go back to camp. Tomorrow.”
"Huh? Tomorrow? I thought you only had to go for the summer," her mom responded, noticing her trembling voice. "Bini, are you okay?"
"Another monster came after me today. That hasn't happened for years, not outside of camp." A pause. "I'm not… safe here… anymore."
Bini's voice broke as she started to sob, dirtying her glasses with tears.
"Do you want me to pick you up?" Her mom asked, her voice soft.
"No—no, it's okay. I can make my way home. It's okay."
I don't want to put you in danger any more than I already have.
"See you later, Umma."
After Bini hung up, she wiped her face with a sniffle, pulling the door open. As she hurried out of the school, she saw the security guard massaging his ears out of the corner of her eye.
She pulled her phone out again.
myla
im so so sorry
there's nothing more i wanted than to spend my high school years with you
but i don't know if i can do that right now
it's really complicated but i have a family emergency and i can't come to school
i don't know when i can come back
if you or the others want to contact me you can send stuff to this address
Delphi Strawberry Services, Half-Blood Hill, Farm Road 3.141
Long Island, New York 11954
ill try to keep in contact as much as i can i promise
on my life
love you so much
Pressing the power button on her phone for the last time, Bini saw the last remnants of her old life flicker away.
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───