It may have been against the rules, but sometimes Sora simply couldn’t help herself. And maybe it didn’t help that she was used to being able to get her way all the time. She was, after all, a princess. No one said no to the crown princess. And the destruction of the war torn streets of Sora begged for her to explore. She wanted to find those she might be able to help, if it was only to comfort them out of this world. It was a silly wish, but Sora had learned to love her subjects. And she would, until her dying day, consider every Korean citizen her subject and she would love them all. She hated seeing war ravage her country and to lay ruin to so many innocent lives.
She didn’t know what she was expecting to see on the streets of Busan, but it wasn’t this. A woman, no older than twenty-five, was laying in the street in a pool of her own blood. She was clutching a gaping wound in her stomach, crying silently as she tried to stop the pain. She knew she wouldn’t survive, as did Sora. But it didn’t stop the young girl from running up to her and cradling the blood soaked woman in her arms, resting her head on her lap. Gently she pulled the woman’s hands from her stomach. “Shh, touching it will only make it hurt more. Look at me, look at me and forget your pain,” Forgetting, for now, that she was supposed to be keeping a low profile. She wasn’t supposed to leave the school during the week, and the government was not particularly friends with the mutant community.
The familiar sound of a gun clicking. A sound, you would think, she would never come to know. But, her adventures outside of the campus grounds had given her a familiarity with and object she wished she had never encountered. Sora closed her eyes slowly, wondering why there was a gun pointed at her. “Miss, step away from that woman. She is a thief and has received her sentence.” An anger built up inside of Sora as he spoke. An emotion she could easily control normally, she found boiling over right now.
“She is hurt and dying and I do not believe there should be anything wrong with comforting the dying in their last minutes,” She small girl snapped, turning her body just enough to see the gun trained on her. There were three of them, all men in uniform. Only one had his gun out, but all three were carrying. “Moreover, who decided her fate? You? It is a harsh fate for a thief who likely was starving. I will comfort her and when I am done, then I will leave. So, you three may leave me now,” She commanded, forgetting that she no longer had any place of authority.
The man fired a shot, the bullet connecting with Sora’s left arm. She let out a scream of agony, her right hand flying to cradle her bleeding wound. “I will not repeat myself woman. Leave or suffer the same fate,” Sora glared at him through watery eyes, prepared to stand her ground when she heard the woman in her lap croak out a few words. “Leave child. You have done me a greater good than I deserve. I have made peace with myself,” Sora glanced down at her, just in time to watching the life leave her body. Gently, Sora stood up, resting the woman’s head on the street. Tears of pain and anger ran down her face before spitting towards the men and heading on her way. She would need to treat herself before the injury got too bad.
Sora had an innate distrust for doctors and their modern medicinal practices, having her own theories on how injuries should be taken care of. So when she found her way back on campus and a student saw her blood soaked sleeve, she was indignant at the idea of going to a hospital. She brushed off the student, saying it was no big deal. She found her way back to her room where she performed a variety of her own practices.
At first, these posed no big threat to her health. But as the days wore on, the wound didn’t heal. Sora had never managed to pull the bullet out of her skin and soon wound was badly infected. For awhile she tried to hide it, wrapping it under clothes and pulling long sleeves over the problem. But before long, she had grown very ill from the wound. Somebody, fearing the life of their friend, suggested one of the students on campus they heard about. His mutation allowed him to heal others, they said. And despite Sora’s oppositions, she was forcibly taken to his room. It was, at least, better than a doctor. She slumped against the wooden door, knocking with all the strength she could muster.
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As far as days went, today was as normal as they came for Sora. Granted, it may seem strange to other people, the ways the young mutant spent her time in this somewhat foreign era. She had been here for a short few weeks, about three she approximated. And though she had just started to pick up on some of the culture and commonalities of the period, she was far from an expert.
But that wouldn’t stop her from becoming one.
Sora had taken to sneaking around campus, notebook and pen in hand, and following specific people around. She would jot down everything they said and did in the most meticulous of fashions. Her subjects were, for the most part, completely random. If someone caught her eye and looking particularly well liked and “normal” she would set out to follow them.
And Sora was convinced she was a great spy. She wasn’t.
Today, her target was a tall boy with that look more regal than any prince she had met. He looked popular and smart and from Sora could tell, he fit in very nicely. Most people fit in nicely and this made finding a research subject easy. Something about this one just attracted her attention in particular. She thought it was the princely appearance.Â
[ ; she lifelessly taps her pencil against the golden wood of a desk before her -- though by now, sooyoung has known that these sort of classes don't exactly require the use of pens and pencils. she drowns the professor's words out of her ears and sighs to herself; reluctantly keeping the same, steady beat of the pencil popping against the wood. -- "and so, i would like you to choose your partner.'' her head immediately pops up, glancing around her just as other mutants began pairing themselves up. nonetheless, her eyes dart across to find a partnerless classmate; whom for quite some time -- has admired her beauty. awkwardly with her own wits, sooyoung waves frantically to catch her attention, wiggling her fingers some ] sora! hey, park soooora!
