POWERPUFF GIRLS | X ALTERNATE

episode one | awakening part one

AWAKENING
PART ONE

Normal, a noun, meaning the usual, average, or typical state or condition.

If you asked the girl currently lost in thought if she thought she was normal, she wouldn't know how to answer.

She sat there, head propped up on her hand, eyes fixed on the board yet unfocused. Years ago, she'd sometimes wondered if she felt different from her peers. Different not in the way kids use it as an excuse to distance themselves, but in the way she could never quite name, a quiet hum at the back of her mind that set her apart in subtle, imperceptible ways.

It had always been there, this vague feeling, though she'd only started noticing it once she was old enough to realize it wasn't something other kids felt. Different.

She might have brushed it off if not for how clear everything always seemed. She could pick up lessons, thoughts, ideas, almost faster than they came. She could see, somehow, beyond what her classmates could—something other kids sometimes whispered about in tones somewhere between awe and unease.

Her gaze drifted through the classroom, barely registering her teacher's voice as it became background noise, a constant drone like the hum of the lights above, soft and familiar. She'd learned to filter it all, the dull sounds and irrelevant chatter, but she couldn't help noticing... lately, things felt hazier.

Her thoughts didn't quite slot into place as they usually did, her mind wasn't as sharp. It was as if there was some unseen film between her thoughts, something just out of reach.

Normal.

It wasn't a word she thought about often. After all, who really knows if they're normal? It's like trying to ask a fish what it thinks of the ocean. She couldn't imagine her life any other way—she was Blossom, just... Blossom. But sometimes, in the quiet of the evening or the moments before she drifted to sleep, that feeling would creep in, like an itch she couldn't scratch. And now, as she sat there, staring at her teacher's mouth moving without registering a single word, it settled in her chest, heavy and unmistakable.

She blinked, a little dazed, her focus snapping back to reality as a voice broke through.

"Blossom... Blossom!"

She straightened, blinking hard as she looked up to find her teacher, Mrs. Klein, staring directly at her, eyebrows raised expectantly. The question floated in the air, unanswered, her classmates glancing her way with curiosity and stifled amusement.

Next to her, her friend Robin nudged her, pointing subtly at her notebook. Blossom's eyes flicked down, catching sight of the question Robin had scribbled in the margins: What was the main economic factor influencing migration in the early 20th century?

"Labor opportunities," Blossom replied automatically, her voice even, though her brain still felt foggy. She barely heard Mrs. Klein's approving nod before her gaze slipped out the window, her mind tugging her elsewhere once again.

After class, Blossom stuffed her books into her bag, trying to shake the lingering daze. It clung to her, thick and relentless, as though the day had left a mark she couldn't quite wash off. She pulled the straps over her shoulders, almost missing Robin's voice beside her.

"I don't know how you answer things so fast," Robin said, falling into step beside her. "You were practically asleep back there, and then—bam—right answer."

Blossom let out a small laugh, hoping it sounded more natural than she felt. "Just good memory, I guess."

Robin nudged her playfully. "Yeah, well, if I could do that, maybe I wouldn't be stressing over tests already."