Chapter Text
The clicking of keys is steady.
Sophia pauses, rereads the sentence on her screen, then deletes half of it.
“…No,” she mutters to herself. “That’s too obvious.”
She scrolls up, eyes scanning over paragraphs already dense with notes.
Margins filled with comments, arrows connecting ideas, whole sections color-coded.
Thesis (draft 3) -
Ishiguro uses emotional restraint not to soften the horror of the students’ fate, but to normalize it—forcing the reader to confront how easily humanity can be conditioned into accepting its own exploitation.
Sophia leans back slightly, tapping her pen against her desk.
“It’s not about the clones,” she says quietly, thinking out loud. “It’s about consent without choice.”
She clicks into another tab—an article on post-war British identity. Another on bioethics. Another on narrative unreliability.
Her document is already twelve pages.
The requirement is five.
She highlights a paragraph, adjusts a sentence, adds a citation.
The rustle of papers follows—printed passages from the novel, sections underlined, annotated to the point the original text is almost buried.
Hours of this.
And she’s still not satisfied.
A knock interrupts the rhythm.
“Sophia?” Yoonchae’s voice comes through the door. “Can I come in?”
“Yeah,” Sophia says, not looking away from her screen.
The door opens slowly.
“Heyyy,” Yoonchae drags out, already smiling like she knows she’s about to be annoying.
“Hi,” Sophia replies, still typing.
Yoonchae steps in, glancing around the room like she always does when Sophia’s deep into work—like she’s trying to piece together how anyone lives like this.
“I don’t know if you noticed but, you have like a lot of paper on your floor.”
“It’s organized.”
“Doesn’t look like it,” Yoonchae says immediately, nudging a stack with her foot.
Sophia finally glances over. “Don’t move anything. I already know where everything is.”
“Spooky.”
Sophia turns back to her laptop. “What do you want?”
Yoonchae clasps her hands behind her back, rocking slightly. “Sooo…”
Sophia sighs. “No.”
“I didn’t even say anything yet—“
“You didn’t have to.”
Yoonchae pouts, dragging a chair over and sitting beside her desk. “You’ve been doing this all week.”
“I have a paper due.”
“In a week.”
Sophia gestures vaguely at the screen. “And i’m already behind.”
Yoonchae leans over, squinting at the document. “Why is it so long?”
“It’s not done.”
“It’s twelve pages.”
“It’s a draft.”
“For a what? Five-page assignment?”
Sophia finally turns to her, deadpan. “Do you want me to fail?”
“Yes,” Yoonchae says immediately. “It’ll help your ego deflate a little.”
Sophia snorts, shaking her head.
Yoonchae softens a little, resting her chin on the desk. “Soph, we haven’t hung out in forever.”
“We live together.”
“It doesn’t feel like it! You’re always on your laptop.”
Sophia tries not to smile at that.
“I just need to finish this section,” she says, quieter now.
“What section?”
Sophia hesitates—then turns her laptop slightly.
“I’m arguing that the students don’t actually resist their fate because they’ve been trained not to,” she explains. “Like—Hailsham gives them just enough individuality to think they have agency, but not enough to actually act on it.”
Yoonchae blinks. “I’ve never read the book but that sounded really smart.”
“It is really smart.”
“I still don’t know what any of that means.”
Sophia points to a paragraph. “They think making art proves they have souls. But it doesn’t change anything. It just makes them easier to accept.”
Yoonchae frowns slightly. “That’s kind of sad.”
“Yeah,” Sophia says. “That’s the point.”
A small pause.
“Soooo,” Yoonchae tries again.
Sophia closes her eyes. “Yoon—”
“Just hear me out,” she rushes.
“I have work.”
“You always have work.”
“Because I care about my grades.”
“And I care about your mental health,” Yoonchae shoots back.
Sophia looks at her.
Yoonchae holds her ground. “You’ve been locked in here for days. You’re talking to yourself about…clones.”
“They’re not just clones—”
“Andddd you proved my point.”
Sophia exhales, rubbing her temple.
“What do you want to do?”
Yoonchae perks up immediately. “Okay—don’t freak out—”
“That means I’m going to hate it.”
“There’s this event tonight,” Yoonchae says carefully.
“What event?”
“Just…an event.”
Sophia narrows her eyes. “Yoonchae.”
Yoonchae winces. “Okay. So. There’s this club—”
“No.”
“I didn’t even finish!”
“You said ‘club.’ I’m out.”
“It’s not just a club,” Yoonchae insists. “There’s like—this fight thing happening—”
“No,” Sophia repeats, turning back to her laptop.
“Pleaseeeee,” Yoonchae groans as she leans against her shoulder. “It’s one night.”
“I’m not going to an underground fight club.”
“You don’t even know if it’s underground.”
“Yoon.”
“It’s underground,” she admits.
Sophia doesn’t look up from her laptop. “Absolutely not.”
“Sophia, pleaseeee,” Yoonchae drags out, practically melting over the back of Sophia’s chair.
Sophia finishes typing the sentence she’s on, hits save, then turns—measured, controlled, like she’s already exhausted.
“No, Yoon,” she says, calm but firm. “I’m not going to some dirty, probably illegal basement to watch guys beat each other up.”
“It’s not a basement,” Yoonchae mutters. “And it’s not just guys—one of the fighters is a girl.”
Sophia raises an eyebrow. “That’s not the selling point you think it is.”
“It could be Megan,” Yoonchae blurts.
That makes Sophia pause.
Not because she’s convinced—but because she knows that tone. The one that’s been the same for years now.
“Is she the one fighting?” Sophia asks.
“I don’t know, but I know she’ll be there,” Yoonchae insists, pushing off the chair and stepping in front of her. “She posted it. On her private story.”
Sophia exhales slowly, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Yoon. You have built your entire personality around a girl who barely texts you back.”
“That’s not—” Yoonchae cuts herself off, then softer, “It’s not like that.”
Sophia just looks at her. Not harsh, not judging—just honest.
“It is a little like that.”
Yoonchae groans, dropping her head back dramatically. “You don’t get it.”
“I do get it,” Sophia replies, quieter now. “It’s been like this for years, Yoon.”
She turns back to her laptop.
Or at least—she tries to.
Because a second later, the screen goes black.
Sophia closes her eyes. “You did not just—”
“You study every day,” Yoonchae says quickly, hands still on the laptop like she’s bracing for impact. “Just take one night off. Please. For me.”
Sophia looks up at her again. Really looks this time. The hopeful eyes, the way she’s practically vibrating out of her skin.
“Why do you want to go this bad?” Sophia asks. “Seriously.”
Yoonchae hesitates—just for a second—but it’s enough.
“Because I don’t get chances with her,” she admits.
And that’s what does it. Not the whining. Not the begging. That.
Sophia leans back slightly, studying her.
“Megan,” she repeats.
FLASHBACK
The hallway is loud, packed, the usual after-bell chaos. Sophia’s already halfway out the door mentally—freedom for the rest of the day sitting right there.
Beside her, Yoonchae is mid-complaint.
“I swear, if one more freshman asks me where the bathroom is—”
A shoulder bumps into hers.
Hard enough to knock her off balance.
“Whoa—” Sophia reaches out, steadying her.
“Shit, my bad,” a voice says.
Yoonchae freezes.
Sophia already knows.
Megan stands there, completely unfazed, like she didn’t just nearly take someone out.
She bends, picks up Yoonchae’s dropped book, and hands it back without much thought.
“Here.”
Yoonchae takes it like it’s fragile. Or maybe like she is.
“Th—thanks,” she stumbles out.
Megan nods once. “Yeah.”
There’s no spark of recognition. No curiosity. Just…neutral.
She turns to leave.
Stops.
Looks at Sophia.
“You’re a senior, right?”
“Yeah,” Sophia answers, a little cautious.
“There’s a party tonight at Lexie’s.” Megan shrugs. “You should come.”
Sophia’s already about to say no—
“That includes you too,” Megan adds, glancing at Yoonchae for half a second. “Junior.”
It’s casual. Throwaway.
But Yoonchae goes completely still.
Sophia notices.
And that’s why—
“We’ll be there,” she says.
Megan nods. “Cool.”
And just like that, she’s gone.
The bell rings.
Yoonchae doesn’t move.
“Earth to loser,” Sophia nudges her.
Yoonchae blinks slowly. “She just invited me to a party.”
“You’re going to be late.”
“I’m actually going to pass out,” Yoonchae whispers. “Sophia, I’m serious. I think this is it for me.”
Sophia snorts. “It’s a party, not a life event.”
“No, you don’t get it,” Yoonchae says, grabbing her arm. “She talked to me.”
“She apologized for hitting you.”
“She spoke,” Yoonchae insists. “To me. Specifically. She even knew what grade I was in.”
Sophia shakes her head, laughing as she pushes her toward class. “Go before you fail biology.”
Yoonchae lets herself be shoved, but she keeps looking back down the hallway like Megan might reappear.
“She said I could come…”
Sophia watches her go, already knowing.
This isn’t going anywhere good.
PRESENT
Sophia blinks back to now, expression flattening slightly.
“And you weren’t invited,” she says.
Yoonchae winces. “…No.”
“Yoonchae.”
“What? It’s public enough! People reposted it!”
“It’s an illegal fight club,” Sophia shoots back. “You think they’re just letting random people walk in?”
“I’ll get a password!” Yoonchae says quickly. “I’ll ask Megan.”
Sophia pauses. “…Does she know you’re coming?”
Yoonchae’s silence is answer enough.
Sophia lets out a slow breath, shaking her head. “I’m not going, Yoon.”
“Sophiaaa—”
“No,” she cuts in, firmer this time. “You’re asking me to walk into something sketchy, uninvited, for a girl who—”
“She’s not just some girl,” Yoonchae snaps, then immediately softens. “I just…I need to see her. In person. Not through a screen, not through replies that take days. Just…once.”
That desperation again. Quieter this time.
Worse.
Sophia’s shoulders drop a little.
“You do talk to her,” she says.
“That’s not talking,” Yoonchae mutters. “That’s me talking. She just…answers.”
Sophia doesn’t respond right away.
Because she knows that’s true.
Four years of this. Of Yoonchae orbiting someone who barely turns her head.
It should’ve burned out by now.
It didn’t.
Sophia exhales.
“…If I go,” she says slowly, “you owe me.”
Yoonchae’s head snaps up. “What?”
“A week,” Sophia continues. “No dragging me out, no random plans, no ‘just five minutes’ that turn into five hours.”
“I can do that,” Yoonchae says immediately.
“I’m serious.”
“I’m serious!” Yoonchae steps closer, grabbing her hands. “Deal. Done. Anything. Just—please.”
Sophia studies her for another second.
Then shakes her head, a small, resigned smile slipping through.
“Fine.”
Yoonchae practically launches at her, wrapping her in a tight hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you—”
“Yeah, yeah,” Sophia mutters, though she doesn’t push her away.
Her gaze drifts back to the closed laptop.
To the night she just agreed to.
“You better hope this is worth it,” she says quietly.
Yoonchae pulls back, already glowing. “It will be.”
Sophia isn’t so sure.
But she goes anyway.
———
The alley is narrow. The kind that makes every step echo louder than it should.
Sophia slows, her hand brushing against Yoonchae’s sleeve. “Yoon…this is—this is sketchy. Like actually really sketchy. We can still turn around. There’s always still time you know—“
“No, we can’t,” Yoonchae says quickly, not even looking back. “We’re already here.”
“That’s not how that works.”
“It is tonight.”
Sophia exhales through her nose, already regretting every decision that led here.
A door suddenly swings open.
Both girls flinch.
A massive man steps out, filling the doorway like it was built around him.
He doesn’t even look surprised to see them.
“Code.”
Yoonchae freezes.
“…Uh.”
Sophia steps forward slightly, instinct kicking in. “Sorry, we were just—”
“They’re with me.”
The voice is easy. Familiar.
They both turn.
Manon.
Relief hits first.
“Oh my god,” Yoonchae breathes.
Manon smiles like she just ran into them at a coffee shop instead of a back-alley fight club. “Hi, babies.” Manon says, hugging them both. “Move, Crowley.”
The man grunts, stepping aside without another word.
“Come on,” Manon says, already heading in.
Sophia hesitates for half a second—just enough to clock the risk again—before following.
Yoonchae is glued to her side, fingers gripping her sleeve.
The stairs creak under their weight, each step louder than the last.
Sophia watches where she puts her feet, like the whole thing might collapse if she doesn’t.
But when they reach the bottom—it’s completely different.
Lights flash. Music pounds. People everywhere. Couches, a bar, bodies moving like this is any other club.
Sophia blinks. “That’s not what I expected.”
“Right?” Manon grins. “It’s kind of a mess, but in a fun way.”
“Fun,” Sophia repeats carefully, still scanning exits out of habit.
“Have you guys ever been here?” Manon asks.
Sophia shakes her head. “No.”
Yoonchae shakes hers too. “This is my first club ever.”
Manon stops walking. “Wait—your first?” She looks genuinely shocked. “And you picked this one?”
Yoonchae shrinks a little, cheeks pink. “…Yeah.”
Manon’s expression softens instantly, a knowing smile slipping in. “Okay. I won’t interrogate you.” She leans closer, lowering her voice playfully. “But, I want you to tell me how your first time was.”
That gets a small laugh out of both of them, the tension easing just a bit.
Manon’s good at that. Always has been.
“Hey, baby.”
Arms slide around Manon’s waist from behind.
Manon melts into it without hesitation, smile widening. “Hi, Larz.”
Lara peeks over her shoulder—and lights up.
“No way—Laforteza?” Her eyes flick to the side. “Yoonchae? Are you serious?”
Before either of them can answer, Lara’s already pulling them into a hug.
“You guys disappeared,” she says, pulling back to look at them properly. “I haven’t seen you since graduation.”
Her gaze bounces between them, amused. “I never thought i’d see you guys at one of these.”
“I never planned on coming,” Sophia mutters. “I’m here against my will.”
“You agreed to come,” Yoonchae argues.
“You closed my laptop.”
“Oh my god you’ll live.”
Lara laughs. “Yeah, she will. She looks like she needs this.”
Sophia gives her a look. “I don’t.”
“She does,” Yoonchae insists.
Manon nods like it’s settled. “She does.”
“Bruh,” Sophia says, already outnumbered.
Lara’s hand slides back to Manon’s waist, thumb brushing under her shirt absentmindedly. “So what dragged you two here, really?”
Yoonchae hesitates—then caves immediately. “Megan.”
Lara’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh?”
Manon turns her head slightly, side-eyeing Yoonchae with interest. “That’s still a thing?”
Sophia crosses her arms. “An ongoing thing.”
“For years,” Yoonchae mutters.
“Years?” Lara repeats, impressed.
“It’s not—”
“It is,” Sophia cuts in.
Yoonchae groans. “Can we not—”
“Wait, wait,” Manon says, smiling gently.
“No judgment. I love a long-term crush. It’s very…committed.”
“It’s a little intense,” Sophia adds.
Yoonchae shoots her a look. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I am on your side. I’m just also on reality’s side.”
Lara snorts. “That’s brutal.”
Then, without warning, she tilts Manon’s chin up and kisses her.
Quick. Casual. Like it’s nothing.
Manon smiles into it, clearly used to this.
Sophia looks away immediately. Yoonchae just blinks.
“…Okay,” Yoonchae mutters.
“What?” Lara grins. “We’re in love. It’s disgusting.”
“It’s a little disgusting,” Sophia agrees.
Manon laughs. “You’re just jealous.”
“I’m not,” Sophia says flatly.
“Mm,” Lara hums, unconvinced.
Yoonchae clears her throat. “Do you guys know where Megan is?”
Lara opens her mouth—Manon immediately slaps a hand over it.
“Nope,” she says firmly.
Lara mumbles something against her palm.
“Absolutely not,” Manon continues. “I’m not facilitating whatever this is.”
Yoonchae deflates slightly. “It’s not like that.”
“It is a little like that,” Sophia says under her breath.
Lara gently pulls Manon’s hand away, laughing. “She’ll see her sooner or later.”
Manon sighs. “I know. I’m just trying to protect her.”
“From what?” Yoonchae asks.
Manon hesitates.
“From being disappointed,” she says lightly.
It lands heavier than she probably meant it to.
Before Yoonchae can respond, Lara claps her hands once. “Fights are starting. Come on.”
They move through the crowd, tighter now.
Sophia stays close, eyes constantly moving.
Yoonchae, on the other hand, is scanning faces.
Looking for one.
They enter a separate room.
Colder. Louder. Tense.
The ring in the center is worn down, the floor stained in ways Sophia doesn’t want to think about.
“Yeah, I don’t like this,” she mutters.
“You’re fine,” Yoonchae says, barely listening.
People crowd around, cash in hand, holding small cards.
Sophia squints. “What do those say?”
“Betting cards,” Lara says.
“Betting for the fighters?” Sophia asks.
“Yeah.”
Sophia can’t make out what the cards say, they all blur together.
“Girls,” Lara adds, nodding toward the side, “come up here with us.”
“Are we allowed to?” Sophia asks immediately.
Manon smiles. “We know someone.”
That doesn’t make Sophia feel better—but she follows anyway.
They squeeze onto the bleachers, right up against the ring.
Too close.
Sophia grips the railing, already planning how fast she could move if she had to.
Yoonchae leans forward, scanning, searching.
“Do you see her?” she whispers.
“No,” Sophia says. “And you need to relax.”
“I am relaxed.”
“Right.”
The referee steps into the ring.
“Who’s ready?”
The crowd erupts.
“Our first fighter…The Unit!”
A huge guy climbs in, playing it up, shouting, feeding off the noise.
“Jesus,” Sophia mutters. “He’s huge.”
Manon laughs softly. “Yeah…just wait.”
Sophia glances at her. “What does that mean?”
“You’ll see.”
The ref raises a hand again.
“And our next fighter—”
The room shifts.
Quieter. Anticipating.
Sophia looks around, not she can see the begging cards clearly.
They all say the same thing.
The same name.
They all say—
“Ether!”
The reaction is immediate. Louder. Sharper.
A figure steps into the ring.
Calm. Unrushed.
Ether.
Ether.
Sophia’s heard that word before.
She can’t remember what it means.
Ether.
Her hair’s tied up, expression flat, almost bored. She doesn’t acknowledge the crowd, doesn’t play into it.
Just rolls her shoulders once, like this is routine.
Like none of this matters.
“She’s going to fight him?” Yoonchae blurts, her voice pitching up despite herself.
“Yeah.”
The answer comes from right beside them.
Megan.
Sophia didn’t even see her step in.
Megan leans casually against the railing like she’s been there the whole time, eyes fixed on the ring.
No greeting, no buildup—just presence.
Yoonchae straightens immediately. “Hi—hi, Megan.”
“Hey,” Megan says, not looking at her.
It’s automatic. Effortless. Like breathing.
And somehow, that’s enough to make Yoonchae light up.
Sophia watches it happen, then exhales quietly.
Same as always.
“Yoon,” Sophia says, nudging her slightly. “Switch with me.”
Yoonchae blinks. “What?—oh. Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
They shuffle, Yoonchae stepping closer to Megan like it’s gravity pulling her in.
Sophia leans down just enough to murmur, “Try not to pass out.”
Yoonchae smacks her arm without looking away. “Shut up.”
Sophia huffs a quiet laugh, then turns back to the ring.
The referee is finishing up.
“There’s only one rule,” he says, dragging it out just enough to rile the crowd. “You go down, you stay down.”
The reaction is loud. Too loud.
Sophia’s stomach tightens.
She doesn’t like this. The energy, the room, the way people are leaning forward like they’re waiting for something bad to happen.
The bell rings.
The man moves first—fast for his size, charging forward with a heavy step that shakes the canvas.
Ether doesn’t rush.
She slips to the side at the last second, clean and easy, like she already knew where he’d be.
One jab to his ribs.
Another.
Sharp. Controlled. Measured.
He swings wide.
She’s already gone.
Sophia finds herself leaning forward despite everything, fingers tightening slightly around the railing.
“She’s fast,” she mutters.
“Yeah,” Megan says under her breath. “She is.”
There’s something different in her tone now.
Subtle—but there.
Almost like respect.
Ether steps back in, landing a quick combination to his head—one, two, three—before he can reset.
The crowd surges.
Manon’s voice cuts through it, bright and loud. “That’s it, Nini! Keep moving!”
Lara’s right behind her. “Don’t let him touch you!”
Sophia glances at them briefly—Manon practically bouncing, Lara grinning like this is the best thing she’s seen all week—then back to the fight.
Because it’s getting tighter.
The man adjusts, angrier now. More careful.
He waits.
Then throws.
A sharp hook—Ether blocks, but the force pushes her back half a step.
Not much.
But enough to shift the room.
“Come on,” Megan murmurs, barely audible.
Ether resets instantly.
Circling.
Watching.
There’s no panic in her. No rush. Just calculation.
Ether.
Ether.
The round ends.
The crowd erupts again.
Sophia exhales, not realizing she’d been holding her breath.
“She’s good,” Yoonchae says quietly.
“Yeah,” Lara agrees easily. “She is.”
Round two starts harder.
The man comes in aggressive, throwing combinations now instead of single hits.
Ether weaves through most of them—but one clips her.
A clean shot.
Her head snaps slightly to the side.
The room reacts all at once.
Yoonchae gasps. “Oh my—”
Sophia’s chest tightens.
“Don’t fall back,” Megan mutters, sharper now.
Ether stumbles—just for a second, blood runs slowly from her nose.
Then steadies.
And when she looks up again, there’s something colder in her expression.
Not anger.
Focus.
Pure and cutting.
“She’s fine,” Lara says, like she already knows.
Ether moves in again, faster this time.
A hook to his jaw.
A body shot.
Another.
She drives him back step by step, controlled, precise, until the referee steps in and breaks it.
Round over.
The man storms off, frustrated.
Ether doesn’t react.
She just turns.
And walks straight toward them.
Not toward the crowd.
Not toward the noise.
Toward Megan.
Sophia stiffens unconsciously.
Ether stops in front of Megan, hand out slightly.
Megan hands her the water without a word.
“He got you in the lip,” Megan says, tilting her head slightly. “And the nose,”
The fighter shrugs, taking a sip like it’s nothing.
“Does it hurt?”
Another shrug.
Sophia almost lets out a quiet, disbelieving breath.
Of course.
Do all of Megan’s friends act like this?
Megan taps Yoonchae lightly. “Hey. Pass that rag?”
Yoonchae jolts. “Yeah—yeah, of course.”
She grabs the rag quickly, nearly dropping it, then hands it over.
Their fingers brush.
It’s brief.
But Yoonchae goes completely still after.
Megan doesn’t seem to notice. “Thanks.”
She turns back, dabbing lightly at Ether’s face.
Ether’s gaze flicks—brief, unreadable—between them.
Not curious.
Just aware.
Manon leans forward slightly, smiling. “You’re hauling bass out there, Nini.”
Ether gives a small nod.
Lara shakes her head. “Seriously. I would’ve been gone the second he stepped in.”
That earns a faint exhale from Ether—not quite a laugh, but close.
Even Megan lets out a quiet chuckle.
Yoonchae looks like she might combust.
Sophia almost smiles—but then Ether shifts.
Turning back toward the ring.
And her eyes catch Sophia’s.
It’s not an accident.
It’s too direct.
Too steady.
Sophia freezes.
There’s no smile. No acknowledgment.
Just that look—sharp, searching, like she’s trying to place something.
Or memorize it.
Ether.
Ether.
Sophia doesn’t look away.
She doesn’t know why.
Ether holds it for a second longer, then turns.
And it’s gone.
“…What the hell,” Sophia mutters under her breath, more to herself than anyone else.
“What?” Yoonchae whispers.
“Nothing.”
But it’s not nothing.
Round three.
Final.
The room feels tighter now. Quieter in a strange way, even with the noise.
The man is slower.
Tired.
His nose is busted, sweat and blood mixing on his skin.
Ether notices.
Of course she does.
She circles him, patient.
He throws.
She ducks.
He follows.
She slips past it.
Then she moves.
Fast.
A clean hook.
Three quick jabs to his face.
He stumbles.
She doesn’t hesitate.
One more punch.
Direct. Precise.
He drops.
The sound of it hits harder than the cheering that follows.
“K.O.!” the referee shouts.
The crowd explodes.
Ether steps back, breathing steady, wiping at the blood on her lip like this was just another round.
Like it didn’t matter.
But then—she looks up again.
And finds Sophia.
Just as easily as before.
That same unreadable expression.
That same weight behind it.
Sophia’s grip tightens on the railing.
Ether.
It’s so familiar.
Ether.
The referee grabs Ether’s wrist, lifting it high.
“Winner is—Ether!”
The room erupts again.
But for a second, it doesn’t reach Sophia at all.
Manon throws her hands up. “That’s my girl!”
Lara’s right there with her, grabbing onto Manon’s arm. “I told you—untouchable!”
Megan claps twice. Casual. Unimpressed, almost.
“Good fight,” she says, like she’s commenting on a video.
Yoonchae, on the other hand, is practically glowing. “That was insane—oh my god—did you see—”
Sophia doesn’t answer.
She’s still watching Ether.
Like something hasn’t finished yet.
Ether stands in the ring for a second longer than necessary, the noise rolling over her.
Her eyes are on Sophia.
It lingers.
Ether.
Then Ether drops her gaze, stepping out of the ring, disappearing into the crowd like it parts for her.
Sophia follows the movement until she can’t see her anymore.
The room suddenly feels smaller.
Louder in the wrong way.
Hot.
“I’m gonna get some air,” Sophia says, already stepping back.
Yoonchae turns immediately. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Sophia says quickly. “Just—too many people.”
“You shouldn’t go alone,” Yoonchae insists, glancing around like she can already lose her.
“I’ll be right outside.”
“Text me.” Yoomchae says, her expression stern—worried.
“I will.”
“Share your location.”
Sophia almost smiles. “I will, Yoon.”
Yoonchae hesitates, then nods reluctantly. “Okay…just don’t disappear.”
“I won’t.”
Sophia slips into the crowd before she can be stopped again.
———
The air outside is colder.
Quieter.
But not safer.
Sophia steps into the alley, immediately realizing—this isn’t the same way they came in.
It’s darker.
It’s narrower.
Empty.
Her steps slow.
Her mind starts running before she can stop it.
You shouldn’t be out here. You don’t know where you are. This was a bad idea—
“Hey.”
Sophia stops.
Turns.
Ether stands a few feet away.
Closer than she expected.
Still breathing a little heavier from the fight, skin damp, shoulders loose but ready.
There’s a faint mark on her lip, dried blood.
Her abs tense with every breath, the beads of sweat defining every line in her stomach.
Sophia’s never seen someone look so good, and so terrible at the same time.
Looking at the fighter up close is worse.
Or better.
Sophia can’t tell.
“You’re out here alone,” Ether says.
Her voice is lower than Sophia expected.
Not intimidating. Just steady.
“I needed air,” Sophia replies. “It was getting humid in there.”
Ether glances toward the door briefly, then back at her.
“First time coming to one of these?” she asks.
“Is it that obvious?”
“A little.”
Sophia exhales a quiet laugh. “Is it your first time too?” Sophia jokes.
Ether’s mouth twitches—barely there, but real.
It shifts something.
Not the tension.
Just the edge of it.
They stand there for a second, the distance between them deliberate. Neither moving closer. Neither stepping back.
“You shouldn’t stay out here,” Ether says after a moment.
Sophia glances down the alley, then back at her. “I figured that out a little late.”
Ether nods once, then reaches for the door, pulling it open.
“Come on.”
Sophia hesitates.
Not because she doesn’t trust her—but because she doesn’t know why she does.
Still, she steps forward.
As she passes, she feels it again—that look. Not heavy in a bad way. Just focused. Like Ether is paying attention in a way people usually don’t.
The door shuts behind them.
They move through a narrow office space, then into another room—and immediately, the noise shifts again.
Manon looks up first.
Then pauses.
Not in a bad way, just in a way that makes her aware.
“Oh,” she says, a small smile forming. “There you are.”
Lara glances between them, grin widening. “Well, well, well.”
Ether ignores that completely, heading straight for the fridge.
“Wow,” Lara scoffs, nudging her arm. “You win a whole fight and now you can’t speak?”
Ether bumps her shoulder back lightly, grabbing a water. A faint smile flickers, then disappears just as fast.
Manon watches her with that same warmth, then looks at Sophia. “You good?”
“Yeah,” Sophia says. “I just stepped out for a second.”
“With company,” Lara adds.
Sophia doesn’t respond to that.
Across the counter, Megan’s leaning in mid-conversation, barely paying attention to anything else. She shifts slightly.
Right into Yoonchae’s space.
Her shoulder presses against Yoonchaes chest.
Too close.
“—I’m just saying,” Megan continues, “if you’re betting, at least pick someone who actually has skill, not the bigger opponent.”
Yoonchae nods immediately. “Yeah. Totally. Obviously.”
She is not listening.
Sophia almost steps in—then doesn’t.
Because Yoonchae looks like she might actually pass out this time.
Manon claps her hands once. “Okay. Are we celebrating or what?”
“Obviously,” Lara says. “Where are we gonna go?”
Megan gestures vaguely. “We are literally inside of a club.”
“Perfect,” Lara grins.
Manon looks to Sophia and Yoonchae. “You two in?”
Megan finally glances at Yoonchae properly, waiting.
Like it’s nothing.
Like the closeness is just…space.
Yoonchae nods instantly. “Yeah. Yeah, we’ll come.”
Sophia exhales softly.
She should probably say no.
Go home. Reset. Pretend tonight didn’t happen.
But she looks up.
Ether is already looking at her.
Like she’s been waiting for the answer.
Sophia pauses.
“Yeah,” she says.
Ether gives a small nod.
Satisfied.
Like she was waiting for an answer.
“Let’s go!” Manon says, already grabbing Lara’s hand and pulling her toward the door.
Lara laughs, letting herself be dragged. “Alright, alright—relax.”
Megan pushes off the counter, brushing past Yoonchae without thought, already moving ahead.
Yoonchae just stands there for a second, watching her go like the world tilted.
Sophia gently grabs her arm. “Come on.”
Yoonchae snaps out of it. “Right. Yeah.”
They start toward the door when Sophia glances back.
Ether hasn’t moved yet.
Still watching her.
Not intense.
Not soft:
Just watching.
Ether.
And she doesn’t look away.
Not even when Sophia does first.
———
Once they’re back out in the music, the noise hits all over again.
Sophia exhales, shaking some of the tension out of her shoulders.
“Hey,” she says, leaning closer to Yoonchae. “Do you know her name?”
“The fighter?” Yoonchae asks, already knowing.
Sophia nods.
Yoonchae shrugs. “No. Everyone was calling her ‘Ether.’ That might just be it.”
Sophia hums. “Ether,” she repeats, like she’s testing it. “I feel like i’ve heard it before,”
“Come on,” Yoonchae says, grabbing her wrist. “Let’s get drinks.”
“I’m driving,” Sophia reminds her.
“Okay and? I’m not,” Yoonchae shoots back.
Sophia laughs despite herself. “I was planning on babysitting you anyway.”
They make their way to the bar, squeezing in between people.
“Vodka Red Bull,” Yoonchae tells the bartender, already leaning into the counter.
“Long night?” he asks.
“You have noooo idea.”
He grins, then looks at Sophia. “And you?”
“Just a water.”
He laughs. “Okay, just a water for you.”
Before he can turn—
“Wait.”
Megan.
She slides in beside them like she belongs there—which she probably does.
“Hey, Chris.”
“Hey, Megan,” he says, already smiling. “What can I get you?”
“Vodka Red Bull. Two Long Islands. Coke.” She says it like a list she’s memorized.
He nods. “Got it—”
“Put theirs on my tab.”
She doesn’t even look at them when she says it.
Sophia glances at her. “You don’t have to—”
Megan waves her off. “It’s fine.”
Yoonchae looks like she forgot how to function.
Chris lines up the drinks a minute later.
Megan reaches for them all at once.
“Who got the Red Bull?” she asks.
“…Me,” Yoonchae says quietly.
Megan glances at her, a small smirk tugging at her mouth. “Good choice.”
And then she’s gone again—balancing four drinks like it’s nothing.
Yoonchae just stands there.
“Did that just happen?” she whispers.
Sophia laughs, handing her the drink. “Drink your energy, you’re going to need it.”
“I’m not going to survive.”
“You’ll be fine.”
They down their drinks quick enough, then Sophia grabs her hand.
“Come on.”
———
The dance floor is chaos.
Lights flashing, bass vibrating through the floor, bodies moving without rhythm but somehow all together.
At first, Sophia just stands there.
Eventually, she lets it go.
The overthinking. The watching. The constant edge.
She moves.
It’s awkward for maybe half a second—then not at all.
Yoonchae laughs, pulling her in, and suddenly they’re just jumping, spinning, bumping into each other like everyone else.
Manon and Lara join them not long after.
They’re already a little gone—laughing too loud, hands all over each other, completely shameless.
“I love you,” Lara says mid-laugh, pulling Manon closer.
“I know,” Manon grins, kissing her anyway.
“Gross,” Sophia says, but she’s smiling.
“You’re jealous,” Lara shoots back.
“I’m really not.”
“Mmhm.”
Megan slips back into the circle at some point, barely announcing herself.
She ends up right next to Yoonchae.
Close.
Too close.
“You wanna grab more drinks?” Megan leans in, voice low so she can hear.
Yoonchae nods immediately. “Yeah.”
Megan takes her wrist—not gently, not rough—just like it’s the easiest way to move her through the crowd.
She doesn’t think twice about it.
Yoonchae definitely does.
Sophia watches them go, shaking her head with a small smile.
“She’s gone,” she mutters.
“Completely,” Manon agrees.
Sophia turns back to the music, letting herself fall into it again.
And this time—it sticks.
She’s not thinking about the fight.
Not about the alley.
Not about—
A hand lands on her shoulder.
She turns.
A guy. Tall. Clean-cut. Confident in a way that’s not trying too hard.
“What’s your name?” he asks.
Sophia pauses.
Normally, she’d shut it down.
But tonight—she decides to have fun.
“Elizabeth,” she says.
He smiles like he expected that. “Leon.”
He steps a little closer. “Haven’t seen you around.”
“Maybe you just weren’t looking,” she replies lightly.
That earns a grin.
“Maybe.”
“Do you want a drink?” he asks.
“I don’t drink.”
“Good,” he says. “Me neither.”
That surprises her just enough to laugh.
And then they’re dancing.
It’s easy.
Casual.
His hands settle at her waist, hers rest on his shoulders. Nothing rushed, nothing forced.
Sophia lets herself stay there—present, light, unguarded.
It feels good.
Different.
New.
And maybe that’s why she doesn’t pull away when he leans in.
The kiss is quick at first.
Then not.
She responds without thinking, hands shifting slightly, grounding herself in something simple.
Something uncomplicated.
Something pulls. Something tells her to open her eyes.
She feels suffocated.
Heavy.
So she opens her eyes.
And immediately wishes she hadn’t.
Ether is across the room.
Leaning against the bar.
Watching her.
Not surprised.
Not curious.
Just watching.
Her expression is controlled.
But her eyes—their sharp, hardened in a way that means trouble.
Sophia doesn’t stop kissing Leon.
But she doesn’t look away either.
Ether lifts her drink, takes a slow sip.
Still watching.
It’s not jealousy.
It’s not anger.
It’s something harder to name.
And it lands heavy.
Ether.
Ether.
The fighters gaze is too much for Sophia.
It’s too much when Leon is touching her, too much when her lips are moving on Leon’s, too much when she isn’t thinking about Leon at all.
So she closes her eyes again.
Sophia’s grip tightens slightly, kissing Leon deeper—not because she wants to, but because she suddenly needs something to push against that feeling.
Leon hums against her lips, clearly into it.
Sophia isn’t.
Not really.
Because even when she closes her eyes again—she can still feel it.
That stare.
Ether.
When they pull apart, Leon smiles, a little breathless. “You’re full of surprises.”
Sophia lets out a small laugh. “You have no idea.”
He leans closer. “Come home with me?”
Her thought is immediate.
No.
She doesn’t even have to think about it.
But before she can answer him, someone pulls her out.
“Hey.”
Yoonchae’s hand is on her shoulder again.
“We should go,” she says, already reading the situation.
Sophia nods. “Yeah.”
Leon tries, “Wait—Elizabeth—”
“Maybe I’ll see you around,” she lies, already stepping back.
They both know that’s not true.
Sophia lets Yoonchae pull her away.
Goodbyes blur together—Manon hugging too tight, Lara yelling something about texting them, Megan barely looking up as she says, “Later.”
Yoonchae definitely looks back.
Sophia doesn’t.
Not until they’re almost out.
And when she does—Ether is still there.
Exactly where she was.
Still watching.
Sophia’s chest tightens—just slightly.
Then she looks away first.
Ether.
———
The alley air is cooler.
Quieter.
Real again.
Yoonchae walks ahead, a little too fast.
Sophia follows, already bracing.
“Yoon—”
The car door slams.
Yeah, there it is.
Sophia gets in, starting the car.
“What was that?” Yoonchae snaps.
“You told me to have fun.”
“Not like that!”
Sophia exhales. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“You just—you don’t do stuff like that,” Yoonchae says, frustrated. “And it’s dangerous. You don’t even know him.”
“I know,” Sophia says again, softer. “It was stupid.”
That takes some of the edge out of Yoonchae.
“Yeah,” she mutters, “it was.”
A beat passes.
Sophia glances at her. “So…”
Yoonchae tries to stay mad.
Fails instantly.
“So?” she repeats, biting back a smile.
Sophia grins. “Megan?”
Yoonchae groans, covering her face.
“Don’t.”
“What happened?”
“She asked me to get drinks,” Yoonchae says, peeking through her fingers. “And then she—she grabbed my hand to pull me through the crowd.”
Sophia gasps. “No way.”
“Yes way,” Yoonchae says, sitting up now. “And some guy bumped into me and she literally pulled me behind her and told him to watch where he was going.”
“No way!” Sophia says, her jaw dropped.
Yopnchae nods quickly, “Yes! Her exact words were, ‘Watch where you’re fucking going.’ She didn’t even sound angry, that made it even hotter.”
Sophia laughs. “So she’s protective?”
“Stoppp,” Yoonchae groans, face burning.
Sophia nudges her. “That’s huge for you.”
“I know,” Yoonchae says, smiling into her hands.
“That’s like the longest she’s ever been around you,” Sophia teases.
“I hate you!” Yoonchae yells, her face bright red from embarrassment.
They fall into easier conversation after that.
Sophia drives, her grip tightens slightly on the wheel.
She can still feel it.
That look.
That moment.
She tells herself it didn’t mean anything.
It shouldn’t.
But it lingers anyway.
Ether.
———
The apartment door clicks shut behind them.
Yoonchae stumbles in first, kicking her shoes off halfway across the living room.
“I feel amazing,” she announces, dropping onto the couch for half a second before popping back up again. “Megan definitely loves me. I can tell.”
Sophia shuts the door, leaning against it for a moment. “She bought you one drink.”
“She held my hand,” Yoonchae corrects, like that outweighs everything else.
Sophia laughs under her breath, tired but real. “Okay. That’s enough for tonight. Go to bed.”
“I’m serious,” Yoonchae insists, already backing toward the hallway. “There was a moment. You didn’t see it.”
“I’m sure there was,” Sophia says, waving her off.
“There was,” Yoonchae repeats, softer now, smiling to herself as she disappears into her room. “Goodnight!”
“Night.”
The apartment settles.
Quiet.
Sophia stands there for a second longer than she needs to.
It should feel normal again.
It almost does.
Almost.
She pushes off the door, walking to her room, shrugging off her jacket and letting it fall where it lands.
The night lingers on her skin—heat, noise, something she can’t quite name.
She exhales.
“Get it together,” she mutters to herself.
Shower. Toothbrush. Routine.
Grounding.
By the time she changes into pajamas, everything should’ve faded.
It doesn’t.
Her room is exactly how she left it—papers everywhere, laptop still open, notes layered over notes.
Sophia sits.
Opens her laptop again.
The document stares back at her.
They were taught to accept their fate so completely, they never thought to question it.
She reads it once.
Twice.
Her pen taps lightly against the desk.
A flash.
Not even a full memory.
Eyes.
Steady. Unmoving. Watching.
Sophia stills.
“…No,” she mutters, like she can shake it out.
She scrolls instead, forcing herself back into the paper.
Hailsham’s structure doesn’t eliminate resistance—it prevents it from ever forming.
She reaches for a note, flipping through her annotations.
Her handwriting is neat. Intentional.
Controlled.
Unlike—
Her pen pauses mid-air.
The thought cuts in, abrupt.
Ether.
Sophia presses her lips together.
Why is she still thinking about her?
It wasn’t even a conversation. Barely anything. A few words. A look—
A look that won’t leave.
She exhales sharply, dropping her pen onto the desk.
“Focus.”
Her fingers return to the keyboard.
The students’ compliance is not passive—it is learned. Conditioned over time through carefully controlled environments and emotional boundaries—
Her hands slow.
Because that word.
Conditioned.
Her eyes drift back to the sentence.
They were taught to accept their fate so completely, they never thought to question it.
And suddenly, it doesn’t feel as distant.
Her mind pulls, uninvited.
Ether in the ring. Calm. Untouchable. Moving like nothing could shake her.
Ether in the alley. Watching.
Not detached.
Not numb.
Aware.
Present in a way that didn’t match anything Sophia had just written.
Sophia swallows, shifting in her chair.
Her cursor blinks.
Waiting.
Her eyes drift again, unfocused for a second.
Ether.
The name settles differently now.
Not just a placeholder. Not just a letter.
Something harder to define.
Something you can’t quite hold onto.
Sophia’s gaze shifts back to her screen.
Her note.
What interrupts conditioning?
She stares at the question.
Her pen taps again, softer now.
Her mind drifts—
Not to the fight.
Not fully.
Just fragments.
The way Ether moved through the crowd.
The way the room didn’t seem to touch her.
Like she existed in it, but not of it.
Like everything else bent around her—and she didn’t have to move at all.
Sophia’s brows pull together slightly.
“…Ether,” she murmurs.
The name clicked.
Not just a name.
A meaning.
Ether.
Not solid. Not something you can hold.
Everywhere.
Invisible.
Surrounding everything—filling space you don’t even notice until—until you do.
Her breath slows.
Because that’s exactly what it felt like.
Not loud.
Not overwhelming.
But present in every direction.
That stare—it wasn’t just direct.
It lingered.
Like it followed her even when she looked away.
Like it settled into the space around her.
Sophia shifts in her chair, something tight in her chest.
“That’s weird,” she whispers.
Because it wasn’t just intense.
It was suffocating.
Not in a way that made her panic.
In a way that made her aware.
Of herself. Of where she stood. Of the fact that she was being seen.
Her fingers hover over the keyboard again.
Is it awareness? Or something external—something that forces recognition?
Her chest tightens slightly?
Because now it’s not just about the book.
And she knows it.
She leans back, dragging a hand over her face.
It was one night.
One person.
She shouldn’t be—
But she is.
Her eyes drift again, unfocused.
Ether.
Everywhere.
And somehow, right here.
Sophia exhales, turning back to her screen.
Sometimes disruption doesn’t feel like resistance. Sometimes it feels like recognition.
She stops typing.
Reads it over.
Her stomach twists faintly.
Because that—that feels too close to something she doesn’t want to name yet.
“No,” she murmurs again, softer this time.
But she doesn’t delete it.
She just sits there.
In the quiet.
Feeling it.
Not panic.
Not excitement.
Just that same strange, lingering pressure.
Like something unseen has settled into the room with her.
And isn’t leaving anytime soon.