four

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  Yí Rán was bored and starting her homework was the last thing she wanted to do. Forever the perfect student, Sage, was doing her homework and making colorful flashcards in front of her. For a moment, she watched the sophomore silently; admiring, examining. 

Then she smirks, picks up a stray pencil, and pokes the girl's arm.

Sage shakes her arm without sparing her a glance.

She pokes her again.

She shakes her arm again, "Stop it."

She jabs her with a devious smile.

Suddenly, Sage snaps her head to the dark-haired girl, "Stop fucking poking me!"

Yí Rán grins. "Stop poking me~" She mocks.

Sage scowls at her, internally cursing the girl's dumb face. She looks down at the blue cast covering her arm then turns back to her homework.

"How's your arm?" She asks in a casual tone.

Yí Rán's eyebrows furrow. "It's fine, healing thanks to Zelenka."

"That's good."

"Yeah..."

Yí Rán nods slowly at the awkward end of the conversation. She squints at the girl.

"Why'd you ask-"

"You know Mom loves you, right?"

Yí Rán recoils at the sudden confession with a deep frown. "Okay...?"

Sage shakes her head, "I know she didn't show it, but she was worried when she found out you were her patient."

Her breath catches in her throat. She shakes her head and scoffs, "I really felt the concern. 'We aren't suing!' 'We shouldn't get involved with them!'" She mocks her Mother's words from last night.

"Mm..." Sage taps the table.

She continues, "And even though she could definitely heal my arm faster than Ze can, she hasn't. She hasn't even checked on me since we moved here and that was two weeks ago!" She scoffs and throws her weight back in the dining chair, "We've been here since February 19th and she hasn't checked on me, at all. It's the 3rd."

Sage places her pencil down and looks up to Yí Rán. "She's like that with all of us. But that doesn't mean she doesn't love us."

"I'm sure Zelenka feels the love.” She snarks sarcastically, “She's not even adopted and Circe treats her like a stranger, too!” She slaps the table with a snarl. “What's the point-”

 "What was your Mom like?" she asks, leaning forward and crossing her arms on the table. 

Yí Rán blinks at her, dark brown eyes enlarging comically, "What?"

"Your mom, what was she like? I don't remember her and no one talks about her, but I know Mom and Dad loved her."

The older girl scoffs softly at the blunt question. Sometimes she really wished Sage could read the room, or at least pretend to think before she spoke. 

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