Tang Coco stepped out of Avril’s room with worry clinging like damp fog. Lately she felt eyes on her, some light as dust, some sharp with a sliver of malice. Avril had warned her: among those gazes, there might be Abnormals, danger coiled like a snake in grass.

She walked to the window at the end of the corridor, where light pooled like still water. She lifted her right hand, stared at the pale center of her palm like a quiet moon.

How long will this peace last this time…

Her brows knit, a storm line above still water.

Snap!

A hand caught her raised right hand, so fast the air cracked like a twig.

Then a mellow voice brushed her ear like spring wind: Hey, wifey! What are you spacing out for!

Tang Coco turned, heartbeat skipping like a stone on a pond. At some point Mo Zitong had arrived at her side, smile bright as sunlight on glass.

You scared me! When did you get here? Why are you here!

She blurted it out. She hadn’t sensed Mo Zitong at all, like a shadow melting into shade.

I’m here to meet an old classmate. Walked out and ran right into you.

…

Tang Coco frowned, suspicion rippling like a fish under the surface. Even dazing off, she’d feel a living person approach, a warmth, a draft.

It’s nothing. I got a tiny splinter in my palm. I was just dealing with it.

She tried to brush it off like dust on a sleeve, but the breeze wouldn’t carry it.

What! Where! How can you be so careless! Let me see.

Mo Zitong cried out, seized Tang Coco’s right hand with both of hers, and lifted it close, eyes searching like a careful needle through silk for that “splinter.”

…

It’s fine. I already pulled it out.

Tang Coco spoke and tried to pull back, but her hand didn’t budge. Mo Zitong’s grip held like a clasped bracelet.

Aiya, how could you be so careless~

Mo Zitong chided, then pressed Tang Coco’s right hand against her own proud chest, worry blooming on her face like a soft flower.

…

This girl…

Tang Coco stared, deadpan lines like black ink across a blank page.

Alright, I need to get to class.

Her tone turned firm, like a door clicking shut.

Mm… fine~_~

Mo Zitong’s answer drooped, a wilted stem in late afternoon light.

…

Tang Coco glanced at her, shook her head with a sigh like wind through reeds, and turned toward the stairs.

Oh, right! Come to my place for dinner this weekend, okay?

Mo Zitong called after her, her voice a ribbon of plea and sugar, hard to cut clean.

Did you take the wrong meds… Can you talk like a normal person?

Tang Coco turned back, helpless as a cat in the rain. First campus beauty, once so strong, now she seemed like a different person, soft as cotton.

Then a thought flashed up, hot as a spark: Damn. Why am I thinking like this? Am I actually turning into the bottom here? No, no… not happening… definitely not…

She shook her head fast, like trying to shake off a cobweb.

Huh? What are you thinking?

Mo Zitong’s curiosity tilted in, bright as a lantern.

N-nothing.

You don’t happen to like it when someone’s a bit dominant, do you~

Suddenly Mo Zitong leaned in very close, breath warm as tea, a smile hooking her mouth like a sly fish.

Get lost…

Tang Coco rolled her eyes and headed down to the next floor, footsteps light as leaves.

I’ll text you about the weekend…

The words floated back from the corner like a paper kite on a long string.

Okay~

Mo Zitong smiled, then her expression settled, ripples smoothing to glass.

She didn’t notice me approach. And… she didn’t react at all to being called “wifey.”

Mo Zitong crossed her arms, thinking, her gaze a thin blade.

Looks like… her Anomaly Power has a problem. Heh.

Her lips curved, a quiet crescent, and she turned away down the corridor like a shadow slipping out of light.