Chapter Text
The first thing Jana notices is the way everyone moves. Not just walking, existing. The careless way bodies collide in the hallway without consequence. The way laughter bursts out of people like it belongs there, like it was never something they had to learn. The way hands reach without hesitation, grabbing wrists, pulling friends closer, brushing shoulders like touch isn't something dangerous. Like touch doesn't break things. Jana watches it all from the edge. Always the edge. Because she knows, if she doesn't think, if she doesn't calculate every step, every movement, every inch of pressure, something will snap. And it won't be her.
Morning settles over Swansea like a dull ache. Clouds stretch low and heavy across the sky, the kind that makes everything feel muted, like the world is holding its breath. The school gates open, students pouring through them in messy clusters of conversation and noise. Jana lingers just outside. Not because she's late. Because she's preparing. Her fingers curl slowly inside the sleeves of her hoodie, nails pressing into her palms, not enough to break skin, just enough to remind herself where the line is. Human. Stay human. Her jaw tightens as she steps forward.
The noise hits first. Too loud. Too layered. Footsteps echoing. Lockers slamming. Voices overlapping in tones she can seperate too easily: Nervous, irritation, boredom, excitement. Fear. There's always a little bit of fear. She doesn't mean to hear it. But she does.
"Oi, Jana!" She turns before the voice even fully forms. Not because she recognises it. Because she felt it coming. A shift in the air. A change in movement. The way someone behind her adjusted their weight before speaking. Her relexes move faster than thought, head snapping toward the source with unnatural precision. Too fast. Always too fast. The boy freezes for half a second, something flickering across his face. Confusion, maybe? Or the quiet, unspoken 'that was weird'. Jana softens immediately. Forces it.
"Hey," she says, her voice steady, controlled. Normal.
He grins, already brushing it off. "You coming to maths or what?"
She nods. Because that's what she's supposed to do.
Classrooms are easier. Contained. Predictable. Jana takes her seat near the back, where fewer people can see her hands, where she doesn't have to worry about brushing against someone everytime she shifts. Her chair creaks faintly under her weight. Not because she's heavy. Because she doesn't know how to not be strong. Everything she does is either too much or not enough. There is no in-between.
The teacher starts talking. Numbers fill the board. Equations, explanations, the steady rhythm of a lesson she could understand if she wanted to. But Jana's attention drifts. Not out of boredom. Out of instinct. Because something feels off.
It happens before it happens. A flicker. A shift. A chair leg catching slightly wrong against the floor two rows ahead. Jana's body reacts before her mind catches up. She's already half-standing when it happens. The girl stumbles. Her bag snaps, her balance goes, and she pitches forward.
Jana's hand shoots out, Too fast. Too precise. Too strong.
Her fingers close around the girl's arm before she can hit the ground. The impact never comes. Instead, there's stillness. A moment suspended in something too sharp to be normal.
Jana realises, too late, how tightly she's holding her. The girl's eyes widen. Not hurt. Just aware. Jana loosens her grip instantly, pulling back like she's been burned. "Sorry," she says quickly. Too quickly.
The girl blinks, steadying herself. "Uh, thanks?" There's a pause. A small one. But Jana feels it stretch.
That look again. The same one. Confusion. Unease. 'That was weird'
Jana sinks back into her seat. Her hands disappear into her sleeves again. Hidden. Safe. Controlled.
But her heart doesn't slow. Because she felt it. That moment. The one right before the fall. The one where something inside her knew.
Break time is worse. It always is. Too many people. Too many variables. Too many things that could go wrong.
Jana stays near the edge of the courtyard, leaning against cold brick, watching. Always watching. A group of girls laugh nearby, their voices bright, effortless. Someone spins in place, arms out, like the world is something soft and forgiving. Jana doesn't understand how they do that. How they exist without thinking about every possible consequence.
Her gaze drifts. Landing on small things. Details. The pulse in someone's throat. The way skin stretches over bone. The faint scent of-
She freezes.
No.
Her jaw clenches hard enough to ache. She looks away immediately, forcing her focus elsewhere, anywhere else. The ground. The sky. The peeling paint on the fence.
Not that. Not them.
The feeling lingers anyway. Low. Persistent. A quiet pull in the back of her mind that she hates. That she fights. That she always wins against.
She has to.
"Jana?" She blinks, dragged back again. A girl from her class. Soft smile, easy posture. Safe. Human. "Why do you always stand on your own?" She asks, not unkindly. Just curious.
Jana hesistates. There are a hundred answers. None of them she can say.
"I just like the quiet," she replies. It's not a lie. Just not the truth.
The girl nods slowly, like she understands. Maybe she thinks Jana is shy. Awkward. Different in a way that's still acceptable.
Jana lets her think that.
Because the real answer would change everything.
The bell rings. The moment breaks. And Jana exhales, slow and controlled, like she's been holding her breath the entire time.
By the time the day ends, the sky has darkened. Clouds heavier now. Closer. The air feels thicker, like something building beneath it.
Jana walks home alone. She always does. It's safer that way.
Her steps are quiet against the pavement. Too quiet. Even she barely feels them.
A car speeds past. She doesn't flinch. She already knew it was coming.
A dog barks somewhere in the distance. She can tell exactly how far away it is.
Everything is too sharp. Too clear. Too much.
She stops halfway down the street. Not because she's tired. Because something inside her shifts again.
That same feeling. The one from earlier. Stronger now.
Her fingers twitch inside her sleeves. Her teeth press together. Her breathing slows deliberately. Controlled. Always controlled.
"I'm fine," she mutters under her breath. Like saying it will make it true.
For a moment it almost works.
Then her reflection catches in a darkened window.
Tall. Still. Eyes a little too sharp. Something behind them that doesn't belong.
Not human.
Jana stares at herself. Really stares. Like if she looks long enough, she'll recognise the person staring back.
She doesn't.
Because this world, this loud, soft, fragile, human world, was never made for something like her.
And no matter how carefully she moves, no matter how tightly she holds herself together, something inside her is waiting.
And it's getting harder to ignore.