Chapter 9: A Fracture in the System

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur. ___ tried to focus on his schoolwork, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the conversation with Sunspot. Every word she’d said echoed in his mind, over and over. She was tired. She was losing herself. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep pretending.

The more he thought about it, the worse it got. He didn’t want her to feel like that. He didn’t want any of this to feel like a burden. The whole point of the experiment was for him to learn how to be human, to learn what it meant to feel—but now he was starting to realize that he was the one making it difficult for her to feel anything.

As the school day ended, ___ found himself standing by his locker, staring blankly at the open door. He could hear the footsteps of other students echoing through the hallway, but he didn’t move. He was stuck. Trapped in his own confusion, in his own guilt.

A soft voice broke his thoughts.

“Hey.”

___ turned and saw Sunspot standing there, her backpack slung over one shoulder. She looked… different. Her usual energy was gone. She was quieter, more subdued. But her eyes were steady, focused.

“I didn’t mean what I said earlier,” she continued, her voice quiet but clear. “I was just… frustrated. I don’t want you to feel like you’re a problem.”

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Instead, he just shook his head, as if to say I don’t know what I’m doing either.

Sunspot took a step forward, looking at him with an unreadable expression. “I know this whole thing is weird for you,” she said, her tone softer now. “But it’s weird for me too. We’re both… in this together, right?”

___ nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “But I don’t want to make it harder for you.”

“You’re not. You’re not making anything harder,” she replied quickly. “I just… need to figure out how to be me again. And maybe, just maybe, you need to figure out how to be you too.”

Her words cut deeper than anything else she had said. It wasn’t just about the experiment anymore. It wasn’t just about him learning how to function in the world. It was about who they both were—and how they had lost sight of that in trying to fit into some kind of mold that wasn’t meant for either of them.

“I think I’m starting to understand,” ___ said, his voice low. “But I’m scared. I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know if I’m… enough.”

She stepped closer, her expression softening, as if she was seeing through all his walls. “You are. You’re more than enough. You just need to let yourself be.”

___ took a deep breath. “And you?” he asked quietly. “What about you? Are you… okay?”

Sunspot’s smile was small, but genuine. It was the first real smile he had seen from her in days. “I’m getting there. But it’ll take time. Just like with you.”

For a moment, they stood there in silence, the weight of everything hanging in the air between them. It felt like an unspoken agreement, a promise without words. They didn’t have to figure it all out right away. But they would figure it out, together.

The bell rang, signaling the end of school, but neither of them moved. The hallway buzzed with the noise of students leaving, but for once, ___ didn’t feel the need to rush.

“You wanna walk home?” Sunspot asked, breaking the silence.

___ looked at her and nodded. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

As they walked out of the school together, side by side, ___ couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of hope. The cracks in the system hadn’t disappeared, but maybe, just maybe, they were starting to heal.

The world felt a little more real now. And for the first time in a long time, ___ didn’t feel so alone.