“Hah, tell that to —,” the sneer abruptly ends when Kaia remembers to whom she’s speaking. Her lips press together to contain the smog that almost escape, infecting herself with resentment instead. She isn’t surprised that Minjeong sees nothing wrong with retaliation. Lineage aside, Kaia received a dose of Minjeong’s vengeful nature. What surprises her is the calming hint of validation that Kaia feels, as if they share a perspective. As if they may actually agree. She represses it, of course, her hawkish gaze apprehensive behind her mask as she closes the openings in her facade that threatened to open. “I can’t imagine why you aren’t well-liked,” she says wryly. When Kaia signs with so much vigor, her speaking becomes sloppy and unfinished from a lack of focus on how she sounds to someone else. Signing is as natural to Kaia as verbal speech is to hearing, so she hardly noticed that she defaulted to signing. Considering Minjeong didn’t flip whatever switch that turned her deplorable, Kaia still doesn’t suspect sudden recognition. Reading her lips in front of the flickering light requires Kaia to shift shifts, angling herself forward. Her anonymity protects her curiosity. There’s no point in dreading how much she desires seeing Minjeong better, if Kaia is not herself. She tries to follow the story as well as she can, aware of the of cadence of her own breathing, the faint tinnitus trilling from her hearing aids, and the splash of orange across Minjeong’s face. A fight, a sibling, malleable feelings. Could Minjeong..detect how others felt? She tries to remember any abilities written on her medical file, but Kaia would take one look at the name and try to trade patients with someone else if Minjeong came up. Fuck. “How malleable?” Kaia asks, her voice feeling dull compared to her usual sharp tone. She’s asking as gently as she knows how, a restraint that she tells herself was instinct or something other than wanting to preserve how vulnerable the other is in this moment. As Minjeong digs deeper into the story, Kaia finds the root and gives it a tug. “Your sibling should be grateful,” she states plainly. That isn’t a flattering picture of a friend that Minjeong painted for Kaia, someone who couldn’t see past himself and understand Minjeong acted out of consideration for her sibling’s feelings. Typical man, directing ire everywhere but inward. Naturally Kaia isn’t sympathetic for his case. “Your friend, however, should grow up and get over it. Nothing is worse than a hero with a bruised ego. Any good sister would do what you’ve done.” This is the only time Kaia will draw a comparison between Minjeong and Sila, a person she despises and a person she cherishes, respectively. And it is only because the act was so selfless — Kaia didn’t know that Minjeong was capable of such things. The pivot to more light-heartedness catches Kaia by surprise, but she appreciates the direction away from vulnerability. “It doesn’t sound like that at all,” she jokes because she thinks she has little authority on what anything sounds like. Kaia challenges herself to let her smirk remain on her face before challenging Minjeong: “And how will you do that from all the way over there?”
❛ very malleable. ❜ you can’t get more lackluster of an answer, but it disguises a small window of contemplation, a few more seconds for minjeong to think. how much does she want to reveal under the pretense of obscurity ? some things are better left unsaid, keep an ace up her sleeve to use later. saying your power is also exposing a way to exploit it, a way to pick at any weaknesses that could ensue. drawbacks don’t have to be revealed, of course, but it barely weighs in the balance here. no, the point is, she doesn’t trust kaia. doesn’t trust the demeter child to let her pry this far into something minjeong herself doesn’t fully understand. and maybe that’s precisely why it’s not too bad of an idea to give into the mistrust. all in the name of not being herself ; minjeong wouldn’t bring this up to anyone, even less kaia. she sure couldn’t make a conversation as bearable — enjoyable wouldn’t be inaccurate either, but let’s not push it — as this one. that’s not minjeong, and that’s certainly not like kaia to know how to use anything but annoyance and aggression in her tone. so why the slower pace, the deeper looks ? ❛ well, sort of. ❜ fuck it. not like she’ll believe her. not like minjeong wants her to do so, anyway. but if kaia can allow herself this new approach, so can she — and just as well. ❛ anything between amplifying an emotion to the point of it bursting or diminishing it completely, i can do it. but only if it’s there. i can’t just, create a feeling. ❜ she wouldn’t want to. hers is already an ability she’d deem useless for most part, had never thought it would’ve had to be used the way she did — never wants to use it, if she could be honest for more than a split lapse in judgment. she’s slipped on a limit, it’s getting too close to others still linked to her godly heritage, that’s enough sharing. ❛ they don’t know. but for how long, i don’t know either. ❜ a reach for gratitude hadn’t been in her mind at all, reason why there’s a scoff along the reaction. minjeong’s doesn’t want them to know, didn’t want this to come to light, what she does best left in shadows. no stranger to repercussions of her actions, she’ll handle whatever bullshit this stirs, but it’s a fucking hassle she would’ve gone without. minjeong should know better than to aim for something good. that’s why the assumption that she could be a sister — a good one at that, leaves her a bit too preoccupied to realize she’s fallen speechless to arising questions plaguing her mind. kaia would know about that, sisters, what makes a more than decent one. it’s hard to not see that shared bond with sila, minjeong’s poked at it a few, extremely risky times. ‘ would you ? ’ are two words sitting on the tip of a tongue that isn’t familiar with the imprint of her own teeth. maybe restraint saves her, she could’ve lied her way out of this immense tell, but that probably would’ve resulted in a guarded kaia ; she’s not mad at this current version. so she’ll wonder, purposely let the moment go to be replaced by something far more comfortable. all too easy to take the offering, never shy, never backs from anything. the shift is almost too quick, but there’s an expert precision to how she slides herself closer ; just enough for both black fabrics to leave no gap on their seat — close to catch subtleties of the shampoo she used in her curls — curls close enough that if she only lifted her hand, she could reach. she doesn’t, hands showing great discipline. but minjeong does let her head fall back, tilts her head sideways to her, grin all too noticeable. ❛ is this close enough for you ? ❜ it’s not for her.