nothing human is strange to me

It wasn’t as drastic of a transfer as the normal recruits usually undergo, but Wheein feels despondent nonetheless. She’s now in a new dorm on the other side of the school from her old one, and in a room so bare she wants to puke all over the white ceramic tiles. Let’s say, to spruce the place up with a bit of color. She finds it ridiculous that she misses the wooden parquet in her old room more than the things she left there — her favorite blanket, pictures of her friends, her gigantic mp3 player.

At least she’d still be attending regular classes for S-ranks, and her recruit status would be kept secret from the rest of the school. Yongguk was amusingly confident that the student body and their guardians wouldn’t mind her staying in the special dorm, considering the rarity —and danger— of her power. 

Well, that is, if you counted Yongsun out, because the last time Wheein saw her sister, she was as furious as a firecracker. 

Yongsun is more than opposed to Wheein’s transfer. For as long as Wheein could remember, her sister is always the one who keeps her in track and out of trouble, and also the one who encourages her to stay active and make lots of friends. Clearly, the Force treating Wheein as a special case is against her older sister’s plans for her future wellbeing, and knowing Yongsun’s standing within the Academy, she probably has more than enough power to keep her ground. Yongsun is, after all, the legal guardian of a pyrokineticist.

Glancing at the glass clock decorating one side of the pristine white walls, Wheein realizes her sister’s gone out for almost two hours now. She was in the middle of unpacking Wheein’s clothes when she suddenly ran out. Wheein considers to start searching for her sister, but she stops herself when she hears voices right outside her new bedroom door.

“Oh, you’re here,” it’s Moonbyul, “What are you doing out—”

“This is not what we agreed on,” Yongsun interrupts.

“I didn’t make the decisions here…” Moonbyul’s reply sounds more helpless than tired, “Look, Solar—”

“Don’t call me Solar,” the chill and venom in Yongsun’s voice take Wheein aback, “I am not one of you.”

“You can’t erase the past just like that.”

“I can. I already did.”

“Oh come on, what can you possibly do without your title anyway?” Wheein can almost hear the sneer.

“I get to make my own choices. I get to write my own story. Instead of being a heartless robot like you are.”

“Heartless? Are you just going to forget to what happened to Umji? If you’re an author of your own story then trust me, you’re a ty one.”

Solar is trembling, Wheein can tell. “Don’t you dare bring Umji into this.”

“What? Now you think you’re all that? What makes you so confident? Wheein?” Moonbyul taunts, “Or is it because you have Eric? Do you think he would stay with you forever? Hell, he’s not even here right now, isn’t he? He doesn’t care about you as much as you thought he did, doesn’t he?”

Whoa, Wheein silently comments in her head, that stings. And it must’ve stung just as much if not more for Yongsun too. Wheein strains her neck to get a better listen, but no one makes a sound until she finally hears a sniffle.

Yongsun’s crying.

Wheein quickly throws herself onto her new bed and grabs the white blanket (which is too fluffy for her liking), pretending to sleep. She hears the door creak and Yongsun step into the room. Wheein wants to see how her sister, but she knows Yongsun doesn’t want that. So Wheein keeps her head down, listening closely as Yongsun continues tidying up the place. Every now and then she hears sharp intakes of shaky breathes, and Wheein knows both her and Yongsun’s minds are bothered by the same thing: the pile of polaroid pictures hung by a string in Yongsun’s bedroom at home.

Polaroid pictures of Yongsun and Moonbyul, young, happy. Together.

“Here you go,” a heavy black bag lands on Wheein’s lap, “Your sport gears and your books.”

Wheein smiles at Hyojung, hugging the bag in the cutest manner she could muster, ”Thank you so much, Hyojung.”

“It’s no biggie,” Hyojung smiles back as she sits down next to Wheein on the warm concrete, where Wheein had laid down a few lunchboxes from the cafetaria, “You owe me a session of hairstyling, though. Tomorrow, at the dorm. My dorm.”

“You just miss me,” Wheein counters lightly, earning a laugh from her friend as they both open their lunch.

“I do. I do miss you, Wheein,” Hyojung says sincerely, “It’s awfully quiet in the dorm without you blasting hip hop in your room like usual.”

It was supposed to be Yongsun who fetch Wheein’s things from her old dorm, since Wheein’s new schedule is packed and she couldn’t ask any help from Moonbyul (“We’re all busy, Wheein. Your transfer’s too sudden. Is it okay if you wait for 2 more weeks? After we wrap everything up?”) But after her fight, Wheein hadn’t heard anything from her sister, much less see her again.

So Hyojung’s been helping Wheein moving her belongings to the new dorm by sending her things during lunch. Wheein’s pretty sure she almost has everything with her, but Hyojung insists they’re not even halfway through Wheein’s room. Wheein suspects Hyojung just wants a reason to keep meeting her, although Wheein herself would never skip a lunch with her friends. But Wheein never said it aloud, of course.

Hyojung would get all defensive and tell her it’s alright if Wheein had other schedules and couldn’t hang out like usual. Wheein’s past A-rank classes sometimes took over lunchtime, and Hyojung always acted fine. Wheein knows though, from the slight creases between Hyojung’s brows every time Wheein excused herself for extra classes, that Hyojung is a bit bummed out for not ranking as high as her friends.

Wheein can tell that Hyojung feels lonely with her being an S-class, even more without Sowon around.

“Where’s Jeonghan?” Wheein asks, suddenly remembering the long-haired dude and how she hadn’t seen him for the last few days.

“Dunno,” Hyojung mumbles, picking a piece of fried egg from her lunchbox, “I heard he signed up for the school festival committee.”

“Jeonghan? Involving himself in something as troublesome as a festival?”

“He could just be making it up for all I know. But anyway, more food for us.”

Wheein’s peaceful time with Hyojung gets disturbed by a static from the school’s loudspeaker. “Attention to S-class Jung Wheein. S-class Jung Wheein, Please report to the principal’s office immediately.”

Hyojung immediately throws her an accusing look, “What did you do this time, Jung?”

“I have no idea,” Wheein giggles as she continues eating indifferently, “The principal can wait. I’ll just tell him I was at the dorm.”

“No, he can’t wait,” a different voice disrupts her again, much closer this time. Wheein frowns when she catches Moonbyul towering over her, “Chop chop.”

With a heavy heart, Wheein closes her half-finished meal and stands up with her duffel bag. “See you later?” she asks Hyojung.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Hyojung corrects her, “At lunch.”

Wheein nods and follows Moonbyul down the stairs from the school rooftop. “What’s the big deal?” she whines, “I’ve been attending everything you set me up for and I haven’t broken any curfew or trespassed anywhere lately. Why do I have to—”

“Trespass? Do you usually do that?”

“Duh. This academy is boring at night,” Wheein rolls her eyes, “And it’s not like you guys are doing a good job at securing the inside of school.”

Moonbyul glances at her sternly, “I have a few questions on that but now it’s time to train with other recruits. We’re going to the HQ, not the principal’s office.”

“Other recruits? What do you mean? Didn’t you say I’d just be doing what the other S-classes are doing?”

“Yeah, but there has been some turmoil within the board and—” Moonbyul stops herself before she says too much, “Please, please don’t make it hard on me, Wheein. I swear I’m just as surprised as you, but the Force only issued you to go down to the training ground today.”

Wheein grimaces. She’s heard about the training for recruits, mainly from Taehyung. He said it’s a whole different level from the S-class.

Moonbyul touches Wheein’s shoulder and they poof into a locker room Wheein never saw before. Without missing a beat, Moonbyul makes her way to the locker on the furthest side of the spacious room. She pulls a key out of her pocket and opens the locker, revealing something Wheein has only seen for the first time in person but already hates with a passion: a battle suit. The Force’s uniform. 

It’s a plain