By September, New York had fully entered autumn.
The sycamore leaves at Midtown High School littered the paths, and the wind rolled golden leaves across the corridors, carrying a crisp autumn chill.
Inside the chemistry laboratory, the flame of the alcohol lamp flickered gently.
The liquid in the test tube bubbled finely, emitting a faint scent of organic solvent.
Gwen frowned as she stared at the liquid in the burette, her fingertips trembling slightly; she had tried twice but failed to drop it precisely to the graduation line.
“Steady your wrist, and let it fall slowly along the side of the flask.” A clear, calm voice sounded from beside her.
Mio put down the pipette in her hand, stepped to her side, and gently steadied her wrist with just the right amount of force, stabilizing her movement.
The pale blue titrant slowly dripped down the inner wall of the test tube, stopping exactly at the standard graduation line.
Gwen’s eyes lit up.
She turned her head and smiled at Mio, revealing two dimples: “It worked!
Mio, you’re too amazing!
My hand was shaking so much, I couldn’t get it right no matter what.” “Practice a few more times and you’ll be fine; it’s just a matter of feel.” Mio withdrew her hand, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
The previous aloofness was gone, replaced by a touch of softness.
Peter, watching this scene from the side, nearly lost his grip on his test tube.
This was the countless time this month he had sensed changes in Mio.
When Mio first enrolled, she was like a stone wrapped in an ice shell—always cold-faced, painfully quiet, with “keep away” written all over her.
If others spoke to her, she would only respond with a word or two, let alone offer help.
But now, although she was still quiet, she no longer had that standoffish demeanor.
She would softly offer a tip when Gwen was stumped by experimental steps; when Peter was cornered by Flash at his locker, she would walk past holding her books and casually say, “The principal is coming this way,” scaring Flash into running away; during lunch breaks, she would bring her homemade bento, no longer hiding in an empty classroom alone, but sitting on the lawn with them, occasionally sharing her homemade snacks.
She would even chime in when Peter complained that the school cafeteria’s burgers were ridiculously terrible, adding, “Indeed, not as good as the frozen buns from the Chinatown supermarket.” She was still the same silver-haired, blue-eyed transfer student with ridiculously good grades, but no longer the cold bystander who seemed out of place in this World.
The confusion and panic in her eyes had dissipated, replaced by composure and clarity.
Her occasional smiles were like sunlight breaking through the morning mist, so beautiful they made people daze.
“Hey, Peter, what are you spacing out for?
Your solution is about to boil dry!” Gwen’s voice pulled him back to reality.
Peter snapped to his senses, hurriedly moving the alcohol lamp away.
Seeing the liquid in the test tube nearly gone, his face instantly turned red, causing both Gwen and Mio to burst into laughter.
When the bell rang, the three of them packed up the lab equipment and walked toward the teaching building together.
Peter held his books, hesitating for a long time before speaking to Mio: “Um…
Mio, there’s a fall carnival at school this weekend.
Would you like to go with us?
Gwen signed up for a game booth, and I’m going to help the photography club set up.” After he finished, he nervously gripped his backpack strap, fearing that Mio would refuse directly, just like before.
Mio paused, turned her head to look at the expectant Peter, then at Gwen who was nodding frantically beside her.
She was silent for two seconds, then nodded gently: “Sure, when?” Peter’s eyes instantly lit up, as if he couldn’t believe his ears: “Really?!
It starts Saturday morning!
We can walk around together!” “Mm,” Mio replied.
Watching his ecstatic expression, the smile on the corners of her mouth deepened a little.
A week ago, she would have refused without hesitation.
A crowded carnival was too easy to leave unnecessary traces, and too easy to become more deeply bound to the future “superheroes.” But now, she was no longer the transmigrator who was paranoid about everything, fearing that exposing even a hint of abnormality would lead to being dissected.
She had her trump cards for self-preservation, and she didn’t want to completely close herself off for the sake of so-called “staying low,” pushing away all pure, unadulterated kindness.
Even if the future was destined to be turbulent, at least for now, she was just an ordinary high school student, attending an ordinary carnival with two sincere friends.
This bit of mundane life was one of the few things that could give her peace of mind in this crisis-ridden World.
On Friday afternoon, just after school, Mio received a new commission email.