Shuhua can only think about the cold floor and how her is lacking in volume, causing an uncomfortable deep, dull pain. Sitting on the floor, she wraps her arms around her legs. Tucking her knees close to her body. Wishing she could escape, disappear into thin air. 

Miyeon’s face betrays nothing. Sitting in the exact same position, a foot away from her, the older girl stares into the far corner of the room. Shuhua brings her own knees even closer. She supposes it’s time for the same old scene to run its course. 

A short girl with bobbed hair paces back and forth. Pausing for a second, then resuming her shuffling. The girl finally stops, looking at them directly. Disappointment swimming, swelling with each breath. 

"Did you guys really have to blow up the research institute?" the girl asks. 

"Miyeon did it her by herself," says Shuhua, not bothering to lift her chin. 

"Yeh Shuhua led the imps to the chemistry lab, full of flammable materials," says Miyeon.

“She wanted to call me an impulsive child, but she’s dumb. So she said ‘explosive child’ instead.” 

“To which Shuhua retorted with ‘I’ll show you fireworks.’” Voices louder than before. Rising, rising. Something about the way Miyeon said that irks Shuhua. 

“Instigator–”

"I don't care about who did what. Both of you are suspended from your duties for a week," growls Soyeon.

"But that's too long! Soyeon-"

"Shuhua, you've been alive for centuries. A week is nothing to you. Yuqi, Minnie, and Soojin are more than capable of covering your tasks," says Soyeon. Shuhua doesn't say anything more, biting her lip. A faint metallic taste rolls around the tip of her tongue. 

"This is not the first time you two have damaged school property. Miyeon, I expected better from you. Shuhua is already a lost cause," continues Soyeon.

"Hey!" Soyeon glares at Shuhua, daring her to speak again. 

"Your actions have consequences, never forget that." Soyeon turns to the door, leaving them alone. 

Their leader’s eyes were on Shuhua, but Soyeon's last warning was specifically for Miyeon. They all know that. 

Decaying memories flood her and Shuhua hates that she can still remember. That cold night. Damp ripped clothes clinging to her body, fresh wounds decorating her skin. 

An ivory bow hovering above her.  

They don't get up right away, choosing to sit for a while longer. Maybe she could annoy Miyeon into leaving and then she could be alone in this room. Reflecting on her actions like how Soyeon always tells her to. 

"Why do you let Soyeon trample over you? Over us?" Shuhua mutters. 

"She's our leader. Her word is law and it's as simple as that. Anything else is irrelevant," replies Miyeon, eyes almost fluttering shut. Where their conversation is heading might be too much for Miyeon. The girl is evidently tired, but Shuhua can’t help it.    

"Huh. A couple hundred years ago, you would've never said that."

“Things change. Everything is different now.” 

“And accept being treated as unruly idiots? You would’ve fought Soyeon if she pulled the same stunt. You’ve gone soft. Weak.” The effect is immediate. The familiar clenched jaw, those tensing muscles.  

“For a fool hung up on the past, I’m surprised you’re still alive,” says Miyeon. Taunting. Pushing her to retaliate. She supposes she has succeeded in making the older girl angry. Shuhua knows those are empty words at the end of the day. They don’t bother her. 

Words don’t hurt. Not when they’re full of hypocrisy. 

Shuhua looks away. Looks at the table. At anywhere, but Miyeon.  

“What can I say? I miss running around freely, without a guard dog at my shoulders. Hounding my every move,” says Shuhua. 

Now there’s only the hum of the lights. She waits for a snarling retort, an unrestrained burst of anger. Even Shuhua admits that was a low blow. 

It comes as a surprise when she hears Miyeon’s voice. It’s vulnerable.

“I do miss it.” Then Shuhua sees the girl’s eyes hardening. Changing.

“I miss the times before I saved you. That one night centuries ago, in the rain.” The words come out steadily, without a hint of regret. 

“Then you should have left me there on the street,” says Shuhua. 

“Yes. I should have done that.” Miyeon stands, footsteps light, leaving. 

The older girl is gone and Shuhua can think properly again. Without any bitterness clouding her mind.  

An entire week off and today is the first day of nothing. 

Shuhua guesses a week of nothing is also a blessing in disguise. She hasn’t had a break in a long while and her bed is extra warm at the moment. It’s good to be a burrito with blankets wrapped around her. 

There’s something nice in just living in the moment as a burrito. Except that can’t last forever. 

The bell to her front door rings once, loud and clear through her apartment. Then again, a third time. Finally, the ringing is simply a constant. 

Shuhua reluctantly rolls off her bed. Shuffles to the door and prays it’s not who she thinks it is. Flings open her door. 

She guesses she should go to church more often, disguised amongst mortals. Because her prayers never come true. 

Miyeon pushes her aside, striding into her apartment like she owns it. The girl dumps a plastic bag of pears onto the couch. 

“Truce?” Miyeon asks. 

“Why not.” The bag full of pears appear on her couch every time they get into a fight. It’s somewhat of a routine now. They would usually stare at each other, waiting for the other to speak first. But they’re both stubborn to a fault. 

Eventually, one of them would leave, exhausted by the silence. 

Shuhua decides she should skip all the waiting today. Even if it means she is nonsensically kicking herself out of her own apartment. Temporarily, of course. 

“Ok then,” says Shuhua, reaching down, bringing shoes to her feet. In the corner of her eye, she sees Miyeon curling onto the couch beside the pears.

“Ok.”