The vending machine buzzed lowly in the corner of the train station, casting pale blue light across the tiled floor. A can of peach soda dropped with a clunk, and a girl in an oversized hoodie bent down to grab it, sleeves trailing past her fingertips. Her hood was up, but a few strands of dark plum hair had slipped out, catching the glow. She brushed them back with a hand still red and glossy with old burns, half-hidden beneath a worn bandaid.

She hopped up to sit on the station’s edge wall, swinging her legs over the concrete with a quiet hum. Somewhere down the street, a bike bell rang. A dog barked. The city was breathing easy tonight.

School had ended hours ago. By now, Loulan-the other her, was probably expected to be home, studying under the warm lamplight of her host family's sitting room, posture straight, teacup in hand, obedient silence intact. The “perfect” girl. Controlled. Contained.

But Shisui?

Shisui snuck off to dig through bushes for beetles. She traded candy for stories with the lunch ladies. She ran barefoot across the rooftop with Xiaolan until security showed up, and once convinced Maomao to follow a moth for ten blocks just to see where it went.

This was her real pulse, somewhere between chaos and quiet.

She cracked open the soda and took a long sip, the fizz stinging pleasantly against her throat. Her dark-golden eyes caught her reflection in the vending machine’s glass, hood half-fallen, cheeks a little flushed, hair messy in a way Loulan would never allow.

—I like her better like this.