The day felt different without Dahyun around. Like a table was missing a leg: functional, but wrong. Momo didn’t like it. The air lacked the usual scent of fresh air. It felt stuff even though things had been like that before the fairy came. 

Though she would be told otherwise by everyone around her, Momo knew this was because of her. Maybe she couldn’t have done anything against it, but she was still the person who had hurt Dahyun. She was supposed to be the one in control. She’d lost it. 

Her mind was still reeling from the attack. She hadn’t recovered from it. Magic had done that to her, completely taken away her agency, forcing her to act according to what a specific combination of emotions demanded she do. She never wanted that to happen again. She wanted to ask Dahyun if that worked, but just the thought of approaching her made her uncomfortable. Even though she knew that the fairy didn’t blame her, Momo couldn’t stand the shame she felt. It surged when she thought of the attack. It hurt when she remembered how her skin and hair had turned grey, how her eyes had shone like molten metal, and how she cold she’d been.  

“Why aren’t you sitting with Jennie?” Jihyo asked. “This is the third day in a row.” 

Sana lifted her head. She’d been staring into space for most of lunch. “We’ve been texting.” Her eyes were tired. Momo was reminded of how terrified she’d been when Dahyun was hurt. Then she remembered the tenderness in her eyes whenever she’d looked at Dahyun. 

Momo looked away, finding the girl in question trying her best not to look disappointed. She felt a pang of sympathy. 

“We all know you’re not interested,” Tzuyu said. 

“Pretty sure she’s figured it out too,” Jeongyeon added. 

“Do we have to talk about this here?” Sana's voice sharpened. “Now?”

The youngest just raised a brow. “It’ll make things less complicated if you break things off now.” 

Sana looked like she wanted to ask why. She didn’t. A pink tint had appeared on her face. Momo knew why. One of the few problems with knowing people for centuries was that you couldn’t hide a thing from them, like who you had eyes for. Momo didn’t doubt for a second that they all knew she felt something for Dahyun. The same for Sana, as much as she’d like to think she was hiding it. Hell, Dahyun knew they both felt something—at least she had to have a very good idea. 

The thought gave her further questions. What was going to happen now? Dahyun wasn’t going to do anything, she probably didn’t know how to approach that. Would she be expecting them to do anything? It was something to consider: if Momo never did anything, never acted on her feelings, Dahyun probably wouldn’t know that. It’d make all the difference for Momo, but not the fairy. The only regrets would be on one side. That is, until Dahyun truly learnt about relationships. 

“Jisoo told me about a party happening next week,” Nayeon said. “We’re invited. Dahyun too.” 

“She’s never been to one, right?” Jeongyeon smiled. “Or did they have actual celebrations too?” 

“We’ll ask her,” Chaeyoung said. “I think that’ll be great for all of us.”

Momo could only nod. If there was one thing she enjoyed most about the modern world, it was the variety of music. Also the fact that you could dance however you wanted, not having to worry about looking proper and restrained. She was also ready looking forward to letting go. With everything that was happening, all of the thoughts and emotions she was having, she really needed that. 

______
Dahyun woke feeling far better than she had in months. Her entire body was cool, given support by a near complete foundation. Her chest also felt warm and extremely light. The blue net was still spanned around her. It had tugged on some of her calm as well. Yet there were other emotions, ones that did not belong to her. She saw love and dread. Also guilt and worry. 

She got up slowly, each limb of hers yelling its protest to movement. Fortunately, it was not unbearable. The sadness had numbed her to being relieved or concerned about the emotions around her, but it had also made the bouts of heat and cold tolerable. Some of it would be lining her vessels now, allowing her internal protection. How had she not thought of this before?

Her mind went to when she had last used her core emotions this way. The extraction process from their captors hadn’t touched them. She was sure Teresa and her would've died if they had been able to take them away. When they were able to, Teresa and Dahyun had shared pieces of each of theirs with one another. Teresa's soul had been made of happiness. They had used them to try and mediate the terrible temperature fluctuations that came when a shred of new emotion was too potent. Even excitement, an otherwise harmless emotion, could give them heart palpitations, requiring calm to keep them from exhaustion. It had also been a way to escape the emptiness. However, Teresa had tapped into that source far more than Dahyun had. She'd had the strength to do so. 

Dahyun closed her eyes. Recent events had swept her away. Her thoughts had rarely gone to Teresa or her family. She missed her family, of course she did, but there was a disconnect there, so it did not hurt as much as this. Even so, she knew she should feel that pain, and the lack of it saddened her. A heaviness had reclaimed its place. She missed Teresa. That feeling hurt. 

Missing. The girls would be missing her soon. They expected her to leave immediately. She knew that. Was it better to leave in this window? To extend that window? Or to leave after it had closed? Each action would leave wounds. Wounds that she didn’t want to cause. Wounds that she wasn’t allowed to heal. If there was one thing she knew she'd never do, it was to manipulate their emotions unless specifically asked or given permission. Given what Momo had experienced, she also knew they would feel powerless if she used her magic in that way. That was a feeling she never wanted them to have. 

She opened her eyes. The sadness weighed her eyelids down, urging her body to go back to bed. She wanted nothing more than to fall back asleep, to think of nothing. That gave her the encouragement she needed to start moving. 

Changing out of the tatters that were once her—Sana’s—school uniform, she tested out the injuries from yesterday. Her ribs had mostly healed, the cuts were sealing and made certain movements stiffer than normal, and there were bruises, but they were already yellowing. 

Then she got to work on condensing the emotions caught in the sadness. She made all of the emotions physical, took most, but left all of the positive emotions that were not hers. As for the dark blue, she allowed herself to reclaim some of it. She let it seep into her blood. The relief that gave her was immense. She was reunited with a part of herself. She did not remember exactly wh