Don’t cry because it’s over.

Smile because it happened.

- Dr. Seuss

She can feel the new girl across the room staring. It’s not intense, more curious and gentle—like she’s trying to figure her out.

Esre glances at the girl and raises a brow. The girl smiles. It raises her lips in a curving slope that uncovers a dimple on one the right side of the girl’s cheek. It’s pretty.

Doesn’t explain why she keeps staring at her though.

She looks away, twirling her pencil while the teacher drones on, and stares at the clock. 

3… 2… 1.

The bell rings.

Immediately, she stuffs her things in her bag and swings it across her shoulder, blending in with the mess of students leaving for lunch.

“Hi.” Esre glances to her right and sees the same new girl, walking in tandem with her steps.

“Hey.”

“I’m Alyssa.”

Esre nods. “Nice to meet you, Alyssa.”

Alyssa tilts her head, awaiting a response Esre doesn’t feel like giving.

“You know, the polite thing to do in this situation is give your name back,” Alyssa says, a teasing lilt in her tone.

“Esre.”

Alyssa hums. “Esre. Pretty.”

Esre nods.

The noise suddenly fades out around her and the scenery changes. Esre sighs—a vision.

The new girl—Alyssa—is in front of her, screaming at her with tears dripping down her face. Her cheeks are flushed and eyes burning, a harsh fire so jarring from the little Esre’s seen so far.

It’s scary.

Esre can’t hear what Alyssa’s screaming, nor what her own body is saying in response—the words muffled like they are being spoken through water—but she can feel the anger and frustration in her, the ugly acid churning in the pits of her stomach, stoking her destructive emotions. She can taste her own salty tears and hear the hoarseness of her voice as she screams back, just as loud and just as cruel, trying to hit the parts that hurt most.

“I can’t deal with this right now,” Alyssa says, sharp between their muffled screams. “I can’t believe… even after everything—” Alyssa stares, expression crumbling into something vulnerable and raw and pained. Even without the context, Esre feels her heart hurt. “You’re just… too much.”

Alyssa spins around. She doesn’t look back once as she walks away—slamming the door behind her—and Esre can feel her volatile feelings die with Alyssa, leaving only hollow pain and aching guilt in its wake.

She feels strangely numb.

Her hands come to wipe at her wet cheeks, trying to dry her tears, but they just keep coming. Everything’s aching, and eventually, she gives up trying to wipe them away and instead, sinks to the ground, curling in on herself.

“What’s your quirk?”

Esre blinks, still feeling a phantom wetness in her eyes. She stares at Alyssa. “What?”

“Quirk,” Alyssa repeats. “Your ability or magical power or whatever.”

“I know what a quirk is.” Esre says sharply. She frowns. Sometime in the future, the two of them will scream at each other, and Alyssa will leave her in the end. Typical.

Alyssa shrugs. “You weren’t making it very clear.”

Esre scowls. “Are you here to annoy me?”

“Oof, harsh, but no, of course not.” She smiles lightly. “Answer the question.”

Esre pauses.

“Seer,” she says.

“A seer.” Alyssa’s eyes brighten. “So you can see the future? That’s so cool! I don’t think I’ve met one before.”

“We’re a rare type,” Esre supplies simply.

Alyssa nods. “I’m an empath, you know? I can feel others’ emotions and stuff.”

Esre quirks a brow but doesn’t reply. There’s no point to replying anyway—not when she knows friendship between them won’t last. Who would be idiotic enough to enter a relationship they know they’ll get hurt by?

To Esre, that seems like the worst kind of stupid.

“Do you have friends you’re meeting?” she asks when Esre doesn’t continue the conversation. “I’m new here, so I don’t know anyone except you now.”

“I sit alone.”

Alyssa nods. “Why?”

Esre bites her lip and stares ahead. “Just don’t like sitting with people.”

“Oh.” Alyssa pauses. “I guess I’ll have to sit with you then.”

“No.”

She pouts. “Why not?”

“I like being alone.” Esre sniffs.

The former’s expression turns sour. “You sound like that one emo kid that gets angry when their mom tells them being emo is ‘just a phase.’”
“It’s not a phase.”

Alyssa laughs. “Exactly.”

Esre glares at the girl in front of her and looks away.

There’s a crowd ahead of them, and Esre immediately starts walking faster, trying to get away from Alyssa. She doesn’t want this new girl to stick around. She’d be senseless to let it happen.

Still feeling the residual sadness from her vision, Esre ignores Alyssa sounds of protest and starts running.

It’s best not to tempt fate.

—————

“How did you find me?” Esre asks, seeing Alyssa walk towards her with a rumpled expression.

She gives her an unimpressed look and sits down next to her, leaning against the gnarly tree shading them from the sun.

The two are tucked away on a small lawn on the edge of school, shaded by an old, twisty tree whose branches stretch so far, it covers the small patch of grass so it’s almost unnoticeable. It’s peaceful here, something Esre particularly enjoys.

“You definitely made it difficult,” Alyssa says grumpily. “But I was able to track your feelings and it led me here.”

Esre blinks. “You can track me through my feelings?”

Alyssa nods, searching through her bag for her lunch. She takes out a chocolate kiss and hands it to Esre. “Want one?”

Esre stares, eyes narrowed.

Alyssa rolls her eyes and grasps at Esre’s hand, opening her palm and gingerly placing the kiss on it. “It’s just chocolate, not poison. Chocolate’s proven to make you feel happier, so eat up.”

“Why? Am I feeling sad?” Esre asks, defensively.

Alyssa hums, taking out another kiss, opening up the wrapper, and popping it into her mouth. “Well, not quite sad. But, let’s just say if you were feeling fine, there’s no way I would’ve been able to track you.”

“I feel fine.”

“Okay. Eat the chocolate.”

Esre presses her lips together, but opens the wrapper and eats the kiss, letting the sweet treat melt on her tongue.

“I didn’t know empaths could track people.”

Alyssa shrugs, bringing out a thermos and utensils from her bag. “Only if their emotions are intense or unstable. Usually we can’t pinpoint exactly who’s feeling what unless we’re right next to them.”

“Oh.” Esre frowns. She turns and packs the little sketchbook in her hands and the pencils in her bag, swinging it around her shoulder and standing.

“Where are you going?”

“Somewhere away from you,” Esre mutters.

She leaves the clearing, walking straight ahead with no sense of where to go, just that she needs to find a crowd. Alyssa won’t be able to pinpoint her if she’s feeling too many emotions all at once. Eventually, she’ll get tired of searching for her and wander off to bug someone else.

“Where are you going?”

Esre turns, and scowls. “Why do you keep following me?”

Alyssa blinks. “I want to be your friend. Obviously.”
“I don’t need a friend.”

She frowns, her brows creasing. “Okay. Not your friend then. Maybe an accomplice?”

“No. I don’t want to be around you.”

Alyssa deals her a flat look. She tilts her head and crosses her arms against her chest.

“If you think that’s going to make me leave, it’s not,” Alyssa says simply.

The world fades again, and Esre’s sent to another vision. 

The two of them are sitting on opposite sides of a bench, leaning across so they’re face to face with each other. There’s a sparkling smile on Alyssa, teasing, but inexplicably soft as she stares at the girl before her gently.

Esre feels herself say something that makes Alyssa laugh, like the clear tinkling of bells in the breeze.

Slowly, Alyssa’s hand comes up to cup her cheek, brushing her thumb against it, before tracing her hand across her face and down to her chin. She leans her head against Esre’s, their noses bumping together. She’s so close Esre can feel her breath against her lips.

Her cheeks flush red, but a gentle warmth settles in her chest, making her giddy.

Alyssa says something, soft and quiet, but holding the weight of worlds, and Esre’s body tingles, a smile stretching across her lips that she couldn’t tamp down, even if she tried. She tilts her head, moving closer to Alyssa, who smiles with the same gentle eyes.

Esre blinks, staring at Alyssa. She bites her lip, and turns, unable to look at her for any longer.

“Leave me alone.”

Esre hears the other girl’s footsteps follow her, walking side by side with her. She scowls.

“Stop.”

Alyssa doesn’t answer.

Esre huffs, submitting into silent frustration.

It’s rare for her to have two visions so quick one after another, but it makes sense. Both hold such intense emotions, but from opposite sides of the spectrum—it was only natural that her quirk would show her both.

Fate is cruel, she reminds herself. It would be safer for her to stay away. Lilith’s already taught her that much.

—————

“How does your quirk work?” Alyssa asks, turning her head from the sky to Esre.

They’re at the small clearing with the gnarly tree again, and despite Esre’s best efforts, Alyssa’s been able to find her every single time. Whether that means Alyssa’s an excellent empath or Esre’s sabotaging herself every time, Esre’s not sure. But as far as she knows, she feels fine.

“Isn’t it pathetic to talk to someone who doesn’t respond back?” Esre asks bluntly.

Alyssa gives her another flat look. It’s become a common reaction now. Harsh words, Alyssa takes in stride, though Esre doesn’t understand how, or rather, why.

“You’re talking with me right now, so I don’t know what’s your point.”

Esre scowls, turning back to her open sketchbook page, doodling flowers and birds and tinkling bells.

There’s a little nudge to her side and Esre turns. Alyssa has another kiss in her hand, offering it to Esre. That seems to be another thing about Alyssa. She always has chocolate to offer. Always in the form of kisses too. It makes Esre wonder if it’s an empath thing or just something Alyssa does.

Silently, she takes the kiss.

“You aren’t going to tell me?” Alyssa scoots over, half-way leaning against Esre’s shoulder. Esre shifts away, narrowing her eyes at Alyssa before returning to her doodle of swans and doves.

Alyssa sighs. “Okay. Silence it is then.”

Neither talk for the rest of their lunch break. Alyssa staring at the sky and Esre continuing to doodle, drawing pictures of stars and wind chimes and people. It’s a warm day out and Esre appreciates the small breeze that blows by every once in a while.

“Look,” Alyssa sighs, turning to face Esre fully. “I don’t know why you keep pushing me away and doing this to yourself, but I‘m not leaving. In case you haven’t noticed, I am perfectly fine with sitting in silence with you for however long it takes for you to accept me. You can decide to be a jerk and insult me for it, but just letting you know, your words don’t phase me.”

Esre looks up, brows furrowed and lips turned in a frown. “Why not?”

Alyssa stares back. “Because I know you’re a good person who’s just afraid.”

“I’m not afraid.” Esre narrows her eyes. “And how are you so sure I’m a good person?”

She points to the left side of her chest. “The heart doesn’t lie.”

Esre deadpans at the girl in front of her. “Aren’t you a little naive?”

Alyssa offers her a small smile. “I don’t think so.”

Esre stares, then looks down at the small chocolate piece still in her hand. Unwrapping the chocolate, Esre pops it in her mouth.

“There’s plenty of good people out there. Why continue to badger me?”

“Why not you?” Alyssa shifts so that she’s facing Esre, sitting cross legged and fully in her line of sight. “I think you deserve the chance to be given the benefit of the doubt just as much as anyone else. Even if you’re rude all the time.”

Esre frowns and doesn’t answer, returning back to her sketchbook. This time, she draws a hershey’s chocolate kiss.

—————

“Can I ask you something?”

Esre doesn’t answer. She continues letting her pencil drag itself across the paper, outlining a gentle face with kind eyes.

Alyssa glances at Esre for a moment, frowns, and looks straight ahead again. “You always say you’re fine, but I know you aren’t, and maybe you do too. I think you’ve just told yourself you’re fine for so long that you’ve normalized the feeling.”

Esre erases one of her lines, ignoring the pit of dread twisting.

“I don’t mean to pry,” she murmurs. “But I can’t help it. It comes with the quirk.”

Esre hears Alyssa take a silent breath. It’s the most nervous she’s heard her—ever.

“I’ve noticed that you have a lot of fear in you,” she admits quietly. “I’m sure you know, or at least are aware. But it’s weird, because you try to ignore it, even when it seems to be the reason for all of your actions.”

Esre’s pencil stills, but she forces herself to ignore Alyssa’s words.

She feels Alyssa nudge her side.

Cautiously tilting her head up, Esre stares at the kiss Alyssa extends out to her, the aluminum foil wrapper glinting innocently in the light.

“What makes you so afraid of others?” Alyssa asks gently. “What makes you so afraid of me?”

Esre blinks, staring at Alyssa, then the kiss. She feels her cheeks redden and her skin crawl. Closing her sketchbook with a resounding thud, Esre ignores the kiss and stuffs her sketchbook back into her bag. She doesn’t like feeling so vulnerable, so seen.

She wants to hide.

Alyssa will just find her again though, like she always has. She needs a distraction.

“My quirk works in two ways,” Esre says, back facing Alyssa. “Visions and feelings. Visions bring me to an event in the future, and they take up all my senses. Oftentimes, I’ll have a vision of someone the first time I meet them. I can’t hear anything in those visions, but I can feel and see things just fine.

“I only get visions for really intense moments, though. Moments that hold a lot of feeling are the easiest to See, because they are the loudest, so to speak.

“Eventually, if I spend enough time with a person for long enough, I no longer see visions then, but feel future feelings instead. That’s the second way my quirk works.

“Those feelings appear at the back of my mind—like a faraway thought you have to really put effort into to bring to the forefront of your mind.  They’re echoes of the emotion though. I’m not sure if your quirk could notice it, but they’re all really faint. Because of that, they’re easy to ignore—so easy that sometimes I don’t realize what I’m feeling is my quirk at work.”

She turns back to Alyssa, whose lips are pursed in thought. But she’s staring intently at Esre. Shifting in her place, Esre hugs her knees close, waiting for Alyssa to say something instead of stare. “I feel feelings more often than I See visions; everyday emotions are rarely ever intense enough to form visions, so they’re harder to gather information from. It’s only when it’s intense do I See visions. But I never know, whether it’s a vision or a feeling, when those moments will occur, just that they will if I try to pursue them.”

Alyssa nods, pressing her lips together. “Which do you prefer to See?”

Esre bites her lip. “I prefer to feel the emotions of the future. They… tell me less about the future I guess, but it’s more grounding. The emotions we feel every day change so little sometimes; it’s nice to have things be just—‘normal.’”

“Do you sometimes wish you didn’t know so much about the future?” Alyssa asks quietly.

Esre bites her lip, eyes downcast. “Sometimes… maybe. I don’t know. I mean—” she holds her breath and sighs. “I guess I do. It’s cool to know what happens next, but it leaves little to hope for. It’s like Schoedinger’s cat. You don’t know if it’s dead until you open the box, and I open the box earlier than others.”

“That’s what you’re afraid of, isn’t it?”

Esre blinks and looks up. “What?”

“You Saw something when we first met,” Alyssa repeats softly. “You See something every time you meet someone. That’s what makes you scared. That’s why you’re alone, isn’t it?”

Esre sucks in a breath, hating the way her skin heats up and her muscles stiffen. She grabs her bag.

“But you don’t like it,” Alyssa continues, the words falling from her lips shattering Esre's glass walls. She doesn’t like feeling so transparent. “In reality, you’re very lonely inside with no one around. You don’t like sitting by yourself and you don’t like the quietness of it.”

Esre hugs her bag close, standing up.

“You’re more scared than you are willing to reach out for a friend, though. Every time your need for human connection comes up, your fear always wins.” Alyssa stares at Esre piercingly. Her dark eyes seeing too much—knowing too much.

Esre swings her bag around her shoulders and runs. Out their little nook and past hallways, trying to find a large crowd to blend into.

“Wait! Esre—”

Esre turns suddenly, keeping her distance from Alyssa, who stops a few feet away, shame in her eyes, an apology on her lips.

“Leave me alone,” Esre says, so softly that the words could be carried away by the wind. “Please.”

Alyssa stiffens. Esre doesn’t stick around longer to see much else. She walks away as quickly as possible, slipping into the crowds with a grace she doesn’t have.

—————

Esre doesn’t come to their little nook until days later.

Alyssa doesn’t talk to her in those days later, knowing, like she always does, that Esre needs space. She doesn’t talk to her during class. She used to badger her all the time, but now, her actions are reduced to small smiles and regret.

In a way, everything’s returned back to normal.

Except it’s not. Not really.

Esre peeks into their little nook. Nobody’s there. For some reason though, it seems emptier than the last time she saw it.

“Hello?” she calls out, as if expecting someone to reply. “Anyone here?”

It feels childish; she feels naive. What was she expecting anyway? For someone to call back to her?

“It’s better this way,” Esre murmurs, stepping into the nook, not sure who she’s trying to convince. “Easier.”

A flash of silver catches her eye. She turns, finding a metallic thing on the roots of the old tree.

Esre places her bag down and walks closer, realizing almost immediately that it’s a kiss, the metallic foil wrapper reflecting the sunlight like a little disco ball.

Despite herself, she smiles.

It’s a little treasure left behind for her to find.

Instinctively, she reaches for it, knowing full well that it was Alyssa who left it behind—

And then stops.

What would it mean if she takes the kiss? If she accepts Alyssa’s kindness one more time?

What are the implications there?

Esre closes her eyes, remembers the pit in her stomach, remembers when Alyssa explained exactly what Esre feels every time she meets someone. Alyssa knows exactly what Esre feels at every moment; she can see through Esre so easily.

Everything about Alyssa feels risky to Esre, unsafe. She can’t let her get close like that again.

She doesn’t want to get hurt again. Not like Lilith had.

Besides, kisses are Alyssa’s thing. If she accepts the chocolate, she’s accepting Alyssa’s kindness. She’s accepting her as a friend.

And Esre can’t. She just—can’t.

Grabbing the strap of her bag, Esre swings it over and leaves the kiss where it is, not looking back once.

—————

She goes back a few days later, because where else is she going to go? She doesn’t have anyone else to run to anyway.

When she enters the nook, she checks the root, muscles tense.

The kiss isn’t there anymore.

Esre doesn’t know if she’s disappointed or relieved. She opts to ignore the feeling. She has her nook back. Everything is back to normal.

Alyssa probably took the kiss and finally gave up.

For a split second, Esre imagines what the other girl must’ve been feeling when she saw the kiss, and her insides wither. She must’ve been so disappointed.

Guilt pools at the pit of Esre’s stomach.

It doesn’t matter though. Alyssa’s a sweet girl. She’ll find new friends and eventually, she’ll forget about Esre. As for Esre herself… she’ll do what she’s always done.

Hide.

—————

 She’s grateful to get her space back, really. Her lunches are back to normal now, spent with ink smudged against her fingers and a sketchbook in between. She sketches her visions again, organizing her thoughts, filing things away like she used to when Alyssa wasn’t there.

Everything’s back to normal.

Esre sighs, leaning against the same gnarly old tree, head tilted back. She stares at the leaves above. They’re starting to turn red with the changing seasons. Summer is fading. But she rather likes fall, and welcomes the change.

She starts picking at the grass absentmindedly, her pencil making scribbles against the paper. Different faces, different emotions, different visions. No matter how much she hates to admit it, she knows all too well that something’s missing. 

Her normal doesn’t feel normal anymore. It’s weird to not feel Alyssa’s warm presence right next to her, keeping her company even when Esre refused to say a word. It’s emptier, quieter, but a suffocating sort of quiet. She hadn’t realized Alyssa had become something so necessary for her to feel everything was right in the world.

She even misses her bottomless stash of kisses that she always gives at random intervals.

Esre must’ve been lying to herself when she said she was fine, though, she thinks a part of her always knew.

The heart never lies.

What’s changed this time around? Why doesn’t she feel better now that Alyssa’s gone? Didn’t she want Alyssa to disappear? Now she has. She should be relieved.

She won’t get hurt again.

Esre groans under her breath, closing her sketchbook and dropping her pencil down. Why isn’t she relieved?

No. That’s a stupid question. She knows exactly why she isn’t relieved. She knows exactly what she wants, but she’s scared. She’s always scared. She’s always been scared. She just got used to it, ignored it, convinced herself it was good for her, and let it win every time.

Just like Alyssa said.

Esre sighs, grabbing her pencil off the ground. She flips through the pages of her sketchbook, lips pressed together, before something catches her eye.

It’s a rough sketch of a chocolate kiss she did. Probably one of her least inspiring sketches, but Esre still stares, and bites her lip.

She’s going to lose her in the end. Esre will love her like she’s never allowed herself to love anyone before, and will lose her in the end to fights and shouting and tears and pain. She’s going to get hurt if she lets Alyssa in. She shouldn’t be so naive to believe fate is merciful.

But then again… where has playing it safe gotten her? Where has playing it safe for years gotten her? Some would argue she’s more miserable now than she was before she was scared—before she pretended she was strong, pretended like she didn’t need anyone.

What has letting fear keep a vice-like grip on her gotten? Is she happier? Or has she just let fear pull the blanket over her eyes and tell her everything is better this way?

Maybe it is time for her to be a little braver.

With a whooshing sigh, Esre packs her things and swings the bag over her shoulder, rising carefully. If she was going to be brave, she may as well do it now.

Slowly, she walks out of her nook, away from safety.

It’s stupid of her to be doing this—to be deliberately setting herself up despite everything she knows. But she knows, this stupidly courageous thing could be what she needs. Things have been too quiet for far too long.

“Hey.” Esre turns, coming face to face with Alyssa, who offers her a gentle, apologetic smile a little ways away. “I felt your emotions shift.”

Esre blinks. “Do you have a tracker on me or something?”

“What—no!” Alyssa says sharply, her cheeks pinking. “Your emotions are just, easy for me to pinpoint.” She clears her throat. “But that’s not the point. I’m here to say sorry. I forget how scary it is to face your emotions. I shouldn’t have sprung that on you like I did. It was unfair of me.”

“How long did you know what I was feeling?”

“Since the day we met,” Alyssa admits quietly. “It’s why your words never hurt me. I knew you didn’t mean it. You were just scared. People aren’t themselves when in fear.”

Esre pauses, feeling that same creeping feeling under her skin. She tamps it down. “You’ve known everything since day one then?”

Hesitantly, Alyssa nods, fiddling with her fingers. “Remember when I asked you if you wish you weren’t a seer? I feel the same way. You feel so much as an empath, it becomes overwhelming—desensitizing. You constantly wonder if you’re invading someone’s privacy, but it’s not like we can control what we empathize.” Alyssa smiles wryly. “Still, I’m sorry for forcing you to face your feelings.”

“It’s okay,” Esre says, offering a tiny quirk of her lips. “It had been about time.”

Alyssa smiles.

“Where do you want us to go from here then?”

Esre stares. The pit of her stomach twists into knots. “I don’t know. I’m still… scared.”

Alyssa’s eyes jump across her face, and she sits down on the floor, patting the spot beside her. “Then sit with me.”

Esre doesn’t hesitate to move next to her, setting her bag down and sitting with about a foot of space between them.

For a moment, the two of them don’t say anything, the silence loud enough for the both of them. Esre inhales deeply, letting the normalness of the moment calm her nerves. 

“The first thing I Saw between the two of us,” Esre starts, quiet and shaky, “was a fight. Oftentimes, that’s always the first thing I see when I meet someone new. A fight.

“There was a time, when I was younger, that I didn’t care if my quirk showed me hurt and pain in the future. It didn’t matter if I was happy now right? And when you’re younger, things don’t hurt as much. When you’re younger, everyone is your friend, so I never cared about my visions until middle school.

Esre bites her lip. “There was a girl. Her name was Lilith. I met her in fifth grade, and my first vision of her was her glaring at me and this stark feeling of betrayal.” Esre glances at Alyssa, and gives her a sardonic smile. “I think you can tell where this is going. We were really close in fifth grade. Sure, we had small disagreements, but we’d always return back to each other, oftentimes stronger than we had before. Originally, I assumed one of those minor fights was what had happened in my vision.

“And then sixth grade came, and things changed. We were put in different classes and rarely saw each other during school, and Lilith became friends with this group of girls, all of them tall, pretty, and popular. She fit right in.

“I was worried, at first, because I didn’t feel like I fit in with the girls Lilith was becoming friends with. But she still came back to me, and for a little while, I convinced myself things could stay the same as they did during elementary school.

Esre pauses, taking a moment to breathe, before continuing slowly.

“One day, she just didn’t show up to lunch at all. At first I thought it was because she was late, or she was held back, but she didn’t come back the next day either. Or the next. After a while, I went to her class and waited for her to come out. When she did, I almost didn’t recognize her. She’d completely changed, in the way she dressed, the way she held herself, the way she spoke, everything. I wasn’t sure I knew my friend anymore then.

Esre smiles, but it’s so empty of anything other than self-deprecation. “I still went up to her. She was with those girls then, and I was hit with a sense of deja vu when I had to call her name multiple times before she noticed me. It was like I had done this before, or I had Seen it before, years ago.”

Alyssa gently nudges her hand against Esre’s, and clasps them together. A sad smile is on her face when Esre looks at her, one of pure empathy. She realizes, with a sudden start, that as an empath, Alyssa knows exactly what Esre’s feeling and she doesn’t expect how validating it feels to know someone’s sharing her pain. She feels pinpricks of warmth in her eyes, but blinks them away, squeezing Alyssa’s hand and scooting closer.

“Once Lilith finally turned to face me, she looked at me like I was an annoyance, completely cold and unrecognizable. I think it was then that I realized Lilith had always wanted to climb the social ladder. She just stuck with me long enough to realize I was the thing holding her back.

“The girls asked who I was, if Lilith knew me. Lilith gave me a once over and glared at me straight in the eyes, threatening me not to say anything, and said ‘I don’t know. I don’t know her. You can’t actually believe I’d associate myself with someone like that.’”

Alyssa inhales sharply. Esre huffs a laugh.

“I was shocked, obviously. I couldn’t find anything to say. Later, I realized this was the exact scene I had Seen back in fifth grade when I first met her, and I felt so stupid. Because really, I had known it would happen. My quirk literally warned me against becoming friends with her. But I didn’t listen. I continued to talk to her. Honestly, I don’t know what I was expecting.”

Esre watches from the corner of her eyes Alyssa chewing on her lip, her posture tense and pained. “I’m sorry,” Alyssa says quietly. “I know it’s not much, but I really am.”

Esre laughs humorlessly. “It’s ironic she did all she did, because her quirk, of all things, was a healer.”

Alyssa winces next to her, and moves so that she’s pressed against the other girl’s side, an arm around her shoulder, gently side-hugging her. Esre hesitates, before laying her head on Alyssa’s shoulder.

“What made you come back to me then?”

She tilts her head back, staring at Alyssa’s curious expression.

“I don’t know. I think I missed you.” She lifts her head and looks at her hands, clenching them into fists. “I’m being stupid though. I’m just repeating the same mistakes from before.”

“I don’t think you’re being stupid,” Alyssa says.

“No?”

She shakes her head. “When you were around Lilith, you were happy, right?”

Slowly, Esre nods.

“Then I don’t think it was stupid of you to become friends with her and keep that happiness for a little while longer.”

“I was being naive.”

“I don’t think so,” Alyssa gently argues. “I mean, it’s only normal for people to hurt each other. Everyone does it all the time, intentionally or unintentionally. They scream and cry and hurt, but they also love, and care, and reconcile with those same people too. I don’t think it was naive of you to become friends with Lilith. I think it was rather brave, maybe even wise of your younger self to look past the heartache and still become friends with her.”

“How is that wise?”

“Because you were able to see the present too.” Alyssa gently squeezes Esre’s shoulders. “When people are around those they love, they are happy. You said it yourself—you were happy with Lilith when you were friends, and even if she was cruel to you in the end, she gave you more happy memories than painful ones. It only hurt so much because you were so happy when you were with her, and for younger you to have been able to recognize the pain was worth it for the reward, that’s something admirable.”

Esre looks away, biting her lip. “I don’t want to get hurt again.”

“I understand.” Alyssa exhales slowly. “I don’t know what you Saw, or what you felt in that first vision, but as an empath, I know that all people will have their ups and downs in any sort of relationship. There is no relationship where you won’t face the risk of getting hurt. And yet—despite the potential pain they may face—people still continue to keep those same relationships that caused them pain and let those same people into the most vulnerable parts of themselves, because those people make them feel safe, and they make them feel happy, more than they make them feel pained.”

She turns to face Esre, eyes well-meaning, but gentle. “When you were younger, part of you might’ve ignored your vision because you didn’t realize how much it would hurt, but from the way you described it to me, a bigger part of you kept that relationship because when you were around Lilith, you were happy.

“In my opinion, it’s not that one moment you should be focusing on, but all the moments in between as well. It’s one moment of pain, for potentially millions of moments filled with happiness and laughter and love. The only question is whether you’re willing to make that trade—take that risk.”

Esre stares at Alyssa, and slowly sighs. “One moment of pain, for a million happy ones.”

“One moment of pain, for a million happy ones,” Alyssa echoes, smiling softly. “What’s your choice?”

Esre breaks the gaze, and sniffs. “I… don’t know.”

“You don’t have to tell me now. You could decide to never tell me. That’s your choice.”

She glances up at Alyssa. “If I never tell you, won’t you be worried I’ll leave you when I get too scared one day?”

The other grins. “That’s the risk I’m willing to take.”

Esre blinks, and looks away.

It’s a long moment before Alyssa speaks again, this time asking, “Was there another vision you Saw of the two of us?”

Esre glances at Alyssa, before admitting, almost shyly, “Yes.”

“What did you feel in that one?”

A pink flush colors Esre’s cheeks, and she says, “Happiness.”

“Must’ve been an intense feeling of happiness.”

Esre smiles. “It was.”

—————

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Alyssa smiles, setting her book down as Esre sits next to her.

“I have something for you.”

Alyssa quirks her brow, sitting up expectantly. Esre smiles, and digs into her bag. Gently, she takes one of Alyssa’s hands and places the small chocolate in it. In the back of her mind, she can feel the echoes of warm happiness and a soft love on the cusp of something more than friends—her quirk is at work, but it’s nice to know their every day is filled with the same kind of happiness.

“A kiss?” Alyssa looks up, tilting her head at Esre.

“Yeah…” Esre bites her lip and shifts. “For all the kisses you’ve given me.”

Alyssa stares, eyes flicking across her face, and smiles, bright and blinding, the dimple on the right side of her cheek appearing at full force.

“Thank you, Esre.”

Esre nods, offering a small smile of her own.

Alyssa looks down at the kiss, and wraps her hand around the small thing.

“What made you change your mind?” Alyssa asks, the smile never leaving her face.

“Nothing really,” Esre admits, lightly shrugging. “I’ve just realized what’s important.”