50: the beginning of the end
The Problem Children[CONTENTID1]
fifty: the beginning of the end
[/CONTENTID1][CONTENTID2]
[Something was so not right here.]
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The end of February marked the surprising end of bitter cold, although it was still technically winter. The snow had mostly melted away, leaving ice and frost in the chilly mornings and messy brown slush in the warmer afternoons. No more was the sky the colour and texture of old grey oatmeal—despite the occasional bursts of light snowfall and rain, the sky was almost constantly blue, and the sun warmed them all by high noon.
The grass was beginning to thaw, and it became warm enough that students could go back out into the courtyard and forest for Extracurricular Activities without freezing themselves. Nevertheless, they still needed to bring jackets and gloves.
March passed by without a single incident, so slow and steady that Juyeon felt it was as if nature itself was pitying the PCs, giving them extra time to complete their History project before the deadline of April 1st. She and D.O had finished earlier than anyone else, and spent more than two weeks just going over their project, fine-tuning everything until they were positive there was no room for improvement.
”I have never felt more proud of myself than now,” she had said, pretending to wipe away a tear. “I feel like this is my newborn child.”
”Well, it sure did feel like nine months of hell,” D.O remarked, looking down at his papers. “But it’s done. We did it. High-five for victory?”
Juyeon nodded and high-fived him. “We will do so well on this project, Strange will never pick on us again.”
”I wish I could say the same for the others. Sumi and Sehun should do well, and Suho and Baekhyun should manage to get Strange’s approval. The Idiot Duo did better than I thought they would, but they’re still not at a standard Strange would approve of. They also both at public presentation. They’ll be lucky to pass.”
”I would have thought you’d at public presentation,” Juyeon remarked. “You sure as hell didn’t like talking to me when we first met.”
D.O smirked. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, I’m like that with everyone. I don’t like talking too much because I mostly feel that I have nothing special to say, or rather, that most things people talk to me about are something that doesn’t require me to answer. Public presentation is easy—just look confident and know your lines. It’s all pre-written. It’s easier than saying something on the spot.”
”So you’re just introverted.”
”Is that a normal thing?”
”Oh, uh, yes, it is. Introvert means you get your energy from being alone, although that doesn't mean they avoid everyone or anything. An extrovert is someone who gains their energy from other people and are always willing to be surrounded by people.”
”I see.” He considered this. “I guess I am introverted, then. What about you?”
”I don’t really know.” Juyeon thought about it. “I guess I’m a mix of both? Because I do like to be left alone, but I can also get really lonely if I’m alone for too long? Who knows.”
”That’s very interesting,” D.O said thoughtfully. “I think you should tell Suho and Chanyeol that one. They’d get a kick out of it.”
”Suho I get, but what? Chanyeol?”
”You haven’t noticed?” D.O quietly laughed. “He doesn’t quite get it sometimes, but Chanyeol’s actually pretty interested learning about these things. I think it’s slowly starting to get through his thick skull, too. Just the other day, I heard him arguing about ethics and morals with Professor Terror. She got so mad, I thought she'd ground him right then and there.”
”No freaking way.” Juyeon had probably been busy trying not to throw up during that class, so she hadn’t noticed. “What did he say?”
”I have no idea, and I don’t think he knew either. But he was quite passionate, though.” He paused. “Normals love categorizing everything, don’t they? Good and bad, right and wrong, introverted and extroverted.”
”Yup.” It was strange how used to this she was—seeing everything as ‘normal’ and ‘PC’. “We need to slap a label on everything, because we need to know exactly what it is and how to identify it and what to do with it. Or else we get confused, and when we get confused we get irrational and stupid.”
”Speaking from experience, I see.”
”What? Oh—um, yeah, I guess.” Juyeon looked down at the library table. Once again, she had said too much. D.O had a way of making her always slip up like that.
”You’re shutting down again.” D.O’s voice was soft. Juyeon looked up at him to see him looking back at her, a gentle expression on his face. “I’m not going to pry, don’t worry.”
”I—yeah. Sorry.” She laughed uncomfortably. “I just—normals can be stupid like that. If they run into something they don’t understand, they can be so … hostile about it. If it’s not something they think is clean and perfect and wholesome they treat it like it’s a bad thing. It’s stupid. But PCs aren’t much better, I guess, they’re just as bad in a different way. Whatever. I think I’m just homesick. It's been a long time since mom sent me a letter.”
D.O was silent for a few moments. She had wondered if he even understood how she felt, the kind of longing ache you only get when you're pushed into a corner and you miss someone who can't come to you. He must feel that way, if he's been in the Academia for so long without seeing his parents. But then again, Juyeon had absolutely no idea what PC parents were like, if they still loved their children, if they even knew what their children were. It had always, always felt like a taboo subject to bring up.
“How about we go check on the others?" D.O finally asked. "See if they need some help with their projects.”
”Yeah, alright.”
And so they did, until March ended and April 1st was no more than a few days away. Flowers were starting to slowly poke through the cold earth, improving D.O’s mood immensely and lifting up everyone’s spirits once they saw the tiny buds of purple and yellow. Come April and May, the courtyard would be back to its beautiful, butterfly-filled appearance once more.
~*~
Something didn’t feel right about April 1st. Juyeon woke up with a weird, numb sensation on the back of her neck.
”I feel like I just slept in a weird position,” she told Sumi as they brushed their teeth. “It’s like my whole face is asleep.”
”You’re probably nervous about the project,” Sumi said, wiping her face with a towel. “Some breakfast would do you good.”
”You know, I never really questioned it before, but why the hell are we served weird blobby stuff that tastes like normal
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