it seemed otherwise to the gods

Moonbyul drums her fingers on the sleek surface of the wooden table, her gaze never leaving the figure lazying on the bed.

“You, young lady, have done quite a lot, haven’t you?”

“Maybe,” Wheein replies offhandedly, flipping a magazine about dogs after ditching the brand new schedule book Moonbyul has printed especially for her.

“Skipping classes, starting a riot during school gatherings, trespassing off-limit school facilities,” Moonbyul runs her hand across the sheets of paper scattered all over the table, “And how many times have you got punished for all of these?”

Wheein hums. “Once. By you,” she informs, “Not for skipping or trespassing, remember? It was for… I don’t know. What was it.. For standing up against a bully?”

“To be fair, your crimes are mostly harmless,” Moonbyul defends, “What happened in the cafetaria then could be dangerous for other students.”

Moonbyul eyes the detentions marked on Wheein’s student data. She didn’t actually expect Wheein to have this many cases, but at the same time, she’s not exactly surprised. Almost all of them didn’t have the punishments recorded; Moonbyul guesses the teacher must be scared of her so they let her free, and that’s why Wheein’s misconducts seem somehow acceptable. If it was a regular school and Wheein was a regular student, she’d be kicked out of school semesters ago.

She checks the dates on the record again, noticing how they became less frequent as they got nearer to last semester’s summer break.

“You haven’t been disobedient under my watch, though,” Moonbyul raises an eyebrow, “Why is that?”

“Let’s say,” Wheein frowns, “I am jaded. I’m in the Force now. Simply, I’ve made it. I have nothing else to do here. When are you going to move me to the HQ for real now?”

Moonbyul sighs. Wheein knew that she was going to be promoted to S-class this year, and probably the Force sooner too. Seems like as her situation grew more serious, Wheein grew more thoughtful. Moonbyul really hopes it’s a sign of her growing up instead of her destructing herself.

“Plus it’s not like I can roam free with you tailing behind me whenever I’m not in class,” Wheein adds, putting down her magazine to switch with another one, “Stop following me around, you stalker.”

“Well, I’m sorry? It’s not that I wanted to do it anyway. Remember kiddo, I’m here as your protector and mentor so you better—“

Moonbyul’s speech is interrupted by a sudden ping, followed by another. Curious, Moonbyul opens the window curtain, and sees two figures downstairs in the dark garden outside the dorm. Another ping echoes as something hits the window. One of them is throwing pebbles.

Moonbyul unbolts the window and peeks her head out, “Who’s there?”

“Ah, good evening, Miss Moon,” from weeks of keeping an eye on Wheein, Moonbyul knows it’s the voice of her friend Choi Hyojung. Which means the other, taller shadow must be Yoon Jeonghan.

“What are you kids doing here?”

It’s Jeonghan who answers, “We’re here to pick Wheein up, Miss.”

Moonbyul spins to catch the girl before she even thinks of going out at this hour but she’s not on her bed anymore. Moonbyul looks back to the garden and spots Wheein sprinting to her friends and grabbing their arms to make them run with her.

“Jung Wheein!” she shouts.

“We’re just hanging out a bit! We won’t be breaking in to anywhere!” Wheein yells back.

“Be back before curfew!” Moonbyul shouts again even though she’s not sure Wheein can hear.

The hospital is still as bland as Wheein remembers, and she knows it’s not a stretch, considering Wheein just got out of the place a couple of months ago. The wing she’s going to, however, is alien for her. It’s less busy in here, and the people more quiet. Wheein wonders why there should be separate buildings for academy students, members of the Force, and regular people outside of the Academy. Everyone here is sick and injured, after all. It makes Wheein wonder if treatments differ as much as superpowers do.

Her steps falter as she approaches a door with the same number as the one written on her palm. She hesitantly peep through the glass on the door, and there’s Seulgi, her hair still bunched in a bun, her cheeks rosy. Next to her bed sits a girl with brown pigtails, peeling what seems to be an apple. Wheein gulps before she knocks and opens the door slowly.

Seulgi’s eyes widen when Wheein walks in, “Jung Wheein? What are you doing here?”

“Ah,” Wheein glances down to the bouquet of flowers she’s holding tightly, “I— I want to apologize. For, um, the other day,”

She squeezes her eyes shut, ready to hear some scolding she knows she deserves, but what comes next is confusion.

“Apologize?” Wheein looks up and her eyes meet those belonging to the other girl’s, “Why would you apologize to Seulgi? I thought you guys were training together?”

“Y-yes,” Wheein quickly explains, “And I hurt her. Really bad, I assume. So,” Wheein pushes the bouquet forward, “So I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t want it. I was in a panic and you were so fast that I—“

Seulgi’s giggle break the tension and this time, Wheein’s the one looking at her in confusion. The other girl also laughs warmly at Wheein’s heartfelt confession. She puts down the apple and her knife, and walks toward Wheein, her movement as graceful as Seulgi’s.

“You’re so extra,” she comments, taking the bouquet from Wheein’s hold, “You really don’t have to come all the way here to apologize. It’s just training.”

“Yeah, Wheein. You’re probably the first recruit to apologize for beating someone in an evaluation,” Seulgi states further, “It happens all the time, y