pairings ‣ Harrison Chang x Quinton Aoki, Hannah Zhao x Noah Wisetkaew

prompt ‣ superpowers AU

notes ‣ this story takes place in Malaysia, but I recently learned homosexuality is illegal there, so this isn't very romance-y so it theoretically could take place in the real world. if this is super inaccurate, I'm sorry. and because she inspired this fic, this AU is dedicated to Sharon (the-water-city), who is one of the kindest, coolest people I know! she's one of my closest internet friends, and I don't care that we're many, many time zones from each other, because talking to her always makes my day. hope you enjoy all the not-so-minor cameos!

* * *

The day started off as any normal day, with Harrison taking diligent notes on number theory in his composition notebook and Noah sleeping in the seat behind him.

Using his blue gel ink pen, nicked off Hannah in exchange for when she never gave back his red gel ink pen, Harrison wrote neat notes on the moderately easy mathematics lecture, feeling calmer than he had this entire week. After spending the entire week studying for chemistry, trying to make sense of the chemistry review packet, it was nice to win one.

Of course, he tried not to think about the fact Noah was going to ask to copy his notes later.

Unfortunately, in the past five years, Harrison and Noah being in the same class had become an expectation rather than a hope, simply because the two of them took their courses in Mandarin. There had been many moments where Harrison considering transferring into the English class, but of course, that would mean being in the same class as Hannah. She, although fluent in multiple languages, took classes in English because she thought it would be more practical for when she left for university in an English-speaking country.

Therefore, Harrison spent much of his time fantasizing about sharing a class with Quinton, but unfortunately that was impossible. Quinton, unlike the three of them in the science stream, was in the art stream, so though he took classes in English, because he moved from Japan and decided English would be easier to learn than Malay or Tamil or Mandarin, he could never be in the same class as them.

Which meant Harrison had to pick between one of the two evils: Noah, who slept all morning and asked to copy notes, and Hannah, who was a prefect and would most definitely want to study with him.

Harrison chose to learn Malay, but unfortunately his mom would not let him do that.

"...and remember your next test is this Friday." The teacher, a woman in her late 30's, glanced around the classroom to everyone finishing up their notes. "Our next unit will be statistics and probability, so get ready. This is typically the unit that most people do poorly in. I'm talking to you, Noah."

Since Noah didn't share a desk with anyone, Harrison took it upon himself to nudge Noah awake. Only seconds after, Noah jolted at the sudden stimulation and jumped up on his feet. "Yes, ma'am!" His shout in English generated laughter throughout the room. Noah blinked a few times, looked at the whiteboard with the mathematics teacher's neat handwriting, and then wiped the side of his mouth in case of drool, which was common enough.

The teacher shook her head. In Mandarin, she said, "Class is over, Noah, but I hope you start paying attention during the next unit. Luckily I'm teaching in the afternoon next week, so you should be awake then. Sit back down." Noah plopped down in his seat, turning to look at the clock on the back wall. "Class dismissed."

The class broke into a frenzy. A group of girls in the back started talking about their weekend plans, and Harrison's seatmate left to join them. "There's still twenty minutes until biology," Noah pointed out. "Can I copy your notes?"

He could probably get half the homework problems done in twenty minutes, but too tired to argue, Harrison sighed. It was only two hours into the school day, which meant lunch was still hours away. "Sure." He handed over his blue notebook.

"Thanks." Noah took out his pink spiral notebook and black ballpoint pen. "Did I miss the chemistry lecture too?"

"You can copy the notes at lunch."

Noah yawned, covering his open mouth with his hands, and then blinked sleepily. "I'm so tired. Ava needed help on English, so she kept me up until one, but even though she went to sleep after I did, she wasn't tired this morning. She even woke up before me and made chocolate chip pancakes. How is she not tired?"

"Kids need less sleep."

"I wish I was still a kid."

"You are still a kid," Harrison said. Noah finished copying the first page and flipped both their notebooks to the next. "You're only in Form 4."

"Our school has Form 6. My parents wouldn't just send me to a school that only went up to Form 5." Noah knew by heart all the schools in the city that only went up to Form 5. When he was in a particularly low mood, he'd rant about how his life would be so much better at one of those schools. "Hey, what do these two characters say?"

Harrison took his composition notebook, stared at the character, and then flipped to the back of his notebook to find the English translation. Pages and pages of blue ink stared back at him. "Qiúhé," Harrison answered, "means summation." He pointed at the summation symbol he had drawn for clarification, and Noah nodded, writing that translation note in the margins. Despite being raised in Shanghai, Noah was still technically learning Mandarin, so his notes were filled with marginal translation notes.

Noah took back the notebook and continued copying the notes. "Is Hannah learning the same thing in her class?"

"Probably." Theoretically, their curriculum should be the same, but Harrison knew nothing in life was that clear cut. Hannah took notes on blank sheets of paper rather than lined, and although it worked for her, Harrison got dizzy looking at her notes.

"That's such a lame answer."

"Ask her at lunch." Harrison reached into his backpack for his water bottle and opened the cap. Glancing inside, he saw he only had a mouthful left, so he drank the rest and left to refill his water bottle. Down the hall he went. For some reason, there was no water fountain on their floor, so he had to go downstairs near the science labs.

"...always add a balance to the centrifuge..."

"...locate the esophagus on the worm..."

"...don't blind each other with the lasers! Y'all are in Form 6..."

At the water fountain, Harrison lined the bottle with the nozzle so the water would actually fill the bottle, pushed the button, and waited.

"Did you hear what Lora did this weekend?" A girl, looking as if she was in Form 2, was walking with her friend back from the classroom to one of the science labs.

"No, what did she do?"

"She managed to..."

Out of earshot, Harrison couldn't hear the two of them anymore. They entered the classroom, and a few seconds later, something cold ran down his hands and through his fingers. He looked down to see the bottle overfilling, so he lifted his hand off the push button and capped the bottle. The cap only pushed more water out, covering his hands in more dihydrogen monoxide.

Wiping his hands on his pants, he hardly thought about the fact that now there were large wet spots on his thighs. Shrugging, he headed past the lab rooms...

"...will cancel the lab if you won't..."

"...esophagus, not the pharynx..."

"...three thousand ringgits to replace it..."

...back up the stairs, under the air duct that was always five degrees colder than all the others, down the hall, into the classroom, where Noah had abandoned copying notes and was talking to Trung near the pink board marker floating three inches above the whiteboard tray.

"...no one in our class with telekinesis," Noah said, glancing around the busy classroom to confirm his statement. During his cursory glance, he noticed Harrison at the door. "Was it you?"

"I don't have telekinesis," he simply answered flatly, walking back to his seat with his filled water bottle. Noah was ridiculous. Harrison didn't have a superpower.

"Maybe it's someone in the other class?" Trung asks, leaning against the whiteboard. "What does Hannah have?"

Noah rolled his eyes. "Hannah wants telepathic perception."

"What is telepathic perception? Hannah mentioned it before, but I can't remember what it means."

"It's like mindreading."

Harrison would normally say nothing, but he felt an obligation to Hannah to fill in the details. "Telepathic perception is the ability to receive information from other people."

"Oh. Okay." Trung looked over at the board marker again and poked it. It hit the board and bounced back. A few people looked up at the sound, but most ignored it and continued with their conversation. The girls in the back had moved on from their weekend plans to some girl in the other class they found cute. "Maybe it's not telekinesis. It obeys Newton's Third Law."

Harrison sighed. Three... two... one...

"What's Newton's Third Law?"

"You should pay attention in class, Noah. Good thing we have physics next."

"We have biology next."

"Really."

"Maybe you're the one sleeping in class."

"That's most definitely you." They turned back to the marker. "Do you think it's a ghost, not telekinesis?"

"Maybe."

Trung grinned. "Our school is finally exciting. We have a ghost." Trung studied the marker a bit more. "Can a ghost write? Dear ghost, if you can hear us, write something on the board." The marker didn't move. Trung took a blue marker and wrote YES and NO on the board. Harrison hadn't noticed until now but someone had erased everything on the board from mathematics. It was probably Trung. "Move the marker toward the answer. Do you have a name?"

"We're literally having a seance in the middle of class." Noah's voice, deadpan and bored, made it sound like this was a mundane activity. "I think that's illegal."

"It's not," their homeroom teacher, who had been sitting at her desk reading manga, said, "but ghosts don't exist."

"What if they do?" Noah challenged.

"They don't."

Trung tapped Noah on the shoulder, as if saying it wasn't the worth the argument. Harrison knew ninety-nine out of a hundred of Noah's arguments weren't worth the argument. "Do you want to name the ghost?"

Noah shrugged. "What would we name it?"

"What about that ghost in The Raven Boys? What was his name? There was Gansey, Blue, Adam, Ronan, and Noah. Which one was the ghost?"

"Noah Czerny," Harrison blurted out. Trung and Noah's heads swung in his direction.

"Do Noah and the ghost really share the same name?" Trung looked at the ceiling as if it would give them their answer. "Oh, wait, you're right. Noah is the eighteen-year-old ghost. I remember now." They started laughing. "I'm dying. Noah is the ghost."

He rolled his eyes. "Harrison, great job on killing Trung. Life goal achieved." His deadpan was so well delivered Trung laughed even harder, and as if contagious, Harrison started laughing as well.

Noah was a ghost.

* * *

Summer vacations were exclusively for catching up on reading, but unfortunately Quinton the ultimate bookworm didn't see it that way.

Two hours ago, Harrison had woken up, brushed his teeth with minty toothpaste, made himself waffles for breakfast, and checked his phone. There were at least ten notifications from the group chat Hannah had created with the four of them in it. The first text, from Quinton at 11:53 PM last night, asked if they wanted to go to pool and then have lunch at Wendy's.

Hannah had declined the invitation to go swimming, since she had some prior engagement, but she said yes to lunch. Noah said he had to help Ava with her summer homework in the morning but would go to lunch. Quinton seemed excited to go to the pool, so Harrison found himself typing, I can be at the pool at 10:30.

Finishing his breakfast and packing a light backpack, he went back to the dining table and picked back up his phone. Quinton had texted back a confirmation, so Harrison texted his mom where he was going. She had work all day, and she probably wouldn't care, but he might as well inform her.

That was how Harrison ended up in rolled up jeans and a light blue t-shirt, sitting at the edge of the pool, wiggling his toes in the cold water. He had been sitting here for nearly an hour, watching Quinton swim, because try as he might, Harrison hadn't found a way to say no to Quinton.

"Why aren't you swimming?" Quinton asked, pulling himself over the edge to sit next to Harrison. Not wanting to get his jeans wet, he scooted a little further away. The English attracted some attention, but that was the only language the two had in common. In fact, the four of them only could only interact in English for minimum confusion among all party members. "It's really nice in the water."

"I don't own swim clothes."

"Oh."

Harrison glanced to his left before realizing his mistake. A blush spread throughout his cheeks, and he made the executive decision to never buy swim clothes, because he was never going to the pool with Quinton again, because the water on Quinton's deltoid muscle glistening underneath the fluorescent lights was too much too handle.

"Why did you come then? I'm sure you could be doing your summer assignments. We have like five hundred pages."

Harrison idiotically let himself look at Quinton. "Uh..." Distracted by Quinton's clavicle, with water droplets rolling down toward... He redirected his gaze above Quinton's shoulder. "I did most of it."

"Of course. I'm surprised you're not a prefect like Hannah." Quinton checked his waterproof watch and glanced behind him at the entrance to the pool. "Hannah and Noah were supposed to be here five minutes ago. Maybe they're arguing again."

Neither of them had the guts to say that it was likely that had happened. Despite being friends, Hannah and Noah would argue over practically anything, and if it wasn't over chemistry or physics, it was over anime or superpowers.

"What do you think it's about?" Harrison asked, trying to maintain conversation. Above his shoulders, above his shoulders. Do not think about scapula or trapezius muscle or-

"-improbable but not impossible."

The two of them whipped around. At the entrance, in black ripped jeans and a camo jacket over a Welcome to Night Vale t-shirt, was Hannah. Walking next to her was a teenager in an Adidas tank top, hands stuffed in the pockets of his cargo shorts.

"You're saying water isn't wet." His flat tone suggested the idea was blasphemous and Hannah was a dolt for not seeing that.

"It's true! I'm sorry, but look at the evidence."

Harrison and Quinton shared a look and then got up. Harrison unrolled his jeans and then, with Quinton, met their friends near the entrance. Immediately upon seeing Quinton, Hannah's face lit up. "Quinton, you'll back me up, right? Water is not wet, right?"

Quinton frowned. "Are you two arguing about water?"

"Water is wet," Noah said as if it was an appropriate response to his question.

"Yeah." Quinton raised an eyebrow at Hannah. "Water's wet. When you touch water, it's wet." Hannah groaned loudly. "Why? Who's right?"

"I'm right!" Hannah nearly yelled. If Harrison was not used to her passion, he would've winced. "Water's not wet! It's scientifically proven."

Noah shook his head. "No, water is wet."

"Whatever. I'm going to change." Quinton nudged Harrison, leaving a wet spot on his shirt. "I'll grab your backpack while I'm at it." Then Quinton quickly left the conversation, leaving Harrison defenseless. Harrison almost wished he had swum just so he could change and escape the arguing.

"Harrison, what do you think?" Noah asked. "Water is wet, right?"

Hannah shook her head. "No, Noah, that's not how it works! Water by itself isn't wet. It's only when you touch water do you feel the wetness. If water is in a test tube, it's not wet, is it?"

In his signature deadpan, he replied, "No, it is. Water is wet."

Hannah fumed and went on this long spew on how water isn't wet. In a world where most people were so dispassionate about everything, it was refreshing to see someone like Hannah, who was passionate about everything. "...can't believe I have to deal with you on a daily basis! Water is not wet."

"Why is water wet when you touch it?"

"I am screaming. You are impossible."

"Improbable but not impossible," Noah pointed out cheekily, and Hannah actually screamed. Security had to actually come over and politely ask her to lower her voice. Noah caught it on video and laughed hysterically which caused security to kick the two of them out of the building. Harrison waited for Quinton to come back from the locker room.

"Where did they go?" Quinton was wearing a pair of black flip flops, a crew-neck blue and white striped shirt, and black joggers. He looked surprisingly nice in it, if not underwhelming, but Harrison guessed anything was underwhelming after someone was shirtless.

Harrison took his backpack from Quinton and pulled it over his shoulders. "They got kicked out."

"Seriously?"

Harrison nodded. "We're supposed to meet them outside." The two of them then left the pool and the gym to find Hannah and Noah blaming each other for getting kicked out.

"I can't believe you two got kicked out," Quinton said, and Hannah's jaw dropped.

"It's not my fault! Noah was the one who pulled the last straw!"

Harrison saw the warning signs. Soon some standerby would call the police on them. "Do you still want to go to Wendy's?" Harrison asked out of nowhere. The three turned to him and then at each other.

"Yeah, of course! Let's go. I'll lead the way." Hannah, who had a superior sense of direction, started to lead the way. Although Wendy's was at the mall across the street, there was no way to cross from where they were, so instead they had to walk toward an intersection and cross there before walking back. During the ten minute walk, the four of them discussed recent chapters of One Punch Man, how far they had gotten in listening to The Bright Sessions, and what they were going to order.

Once inside the restaurant, they seated themselves in a booth next to a window, the light outside shining through onto their table, leaving everything warm to the touch. The pale grey paint on the walls was chipped, revealing the spackled wall underneath, so Harrison tried to estimate how old this place was. Hannah had tried the first time they came here, but twenty minutes after trying, she claimed that nothing was worth that Fermi problem.

Then Noah and Hannah had gotten in an argument about famous Fermi problems.

"I'll order," Noah said, not waiting for a response for leaving for the counter. Quinton and Hannah sat across from each other near the wall, and Harrison had an aisle seat next to Quinton. This was their normal booth. It was their usual arrangement. This felt peaceful. This was something he was familiar with. All that was left was someone mentioning the physics homework, and then it would just be like any other day.

"Okay, can we go back to the entire water discussion?" Quinton propped his elbows on the table. "Water is wet. How can you think otherwise?"

Hannah tapped her fingers against the table, her long nails painted pastel green clicking against the table. "Water isn't wet. It's only wet when you touch it. By itself, it's a liquid. Wetness is like a physical property, not a chemical property. Right, Harrison?"

Harrison knew she was right, but he debated whether or not to agree. It would be entertaining to see them argue a bit more, but Hannah had been on this topic for weeks. "Water isn't wet."

"Boom!" Hannah shouted. "Water isn't wet! Harrison agreed with me! I must be right!"

"Harrison could be wrong. He's been wrong before."

"Do you really think Harrison would be wrong about this?"

"Harrison's probably right," Noah said, putting the two trays in his hands down on the table. He took the aisle seat next to Hannah and grabbed his spicy chicken sandwich and Strawberry Passion FruiTea Chillers. "Hey, Q, did you do the physics homework yet? We can do it together tomorrow."

"Yeah, sure. We probably have different questions, but I haven't started yet, so it's fine." Quinton grabbed his strawberry iced tea and homestyle chicken sandwich. Unwrapping the sandwich from the plastic, he took a bite and moaned. "This is so good."

"You're just hungry." Hannah took her chocolate Frosty. "How have you not started the homework yet? You're a terrible student."

Harrison bit into his grilled chicken sandwich. "Have you finished?"

"Hey! Where did that come from! Don't attack me!"

Noah rolled his eyes. "So no?"

"I started."

"Well, you're welcome to join us tomorrow."

"Why are you putting me on your level? I started. I bet Harrison hadn't finished yet either!"

"I finished physics. I'm only halfway through chemistry."

"But the chemistry homework was so easy, though." Hannah looked at the trays and frowned. "Where's the receipt?"

"I really don't mind paying for-"

"Just give me the receipt."

Noah took out his wallet and handed her the receipt. For some reason, Hannah liked doing math and splitting the bill. She claimed it burned calories. "Split the fries among all of us."

"Cool." As Hannah marked up the receipt with her blue ballpoint pen that she seemed to have pulled out of nowhere, Noah grabbed one of the fries and dipped into her Frosty to eat. Harrison cringed. Hannah and Noah had weird eating habits, including eating stale Peeps. "Okay, here's what you guys owe Noah." Boxing two numbers at the bottom of the receipt, with more blue ink than black, she slid it over to Harrison. He looked at the number, passed it to Quinton, and counted out exact change for Noah. Quinton did the same. "Oh, by the way, I'm definitely joining you two tomorrow. I'm stuck on the last three problems on the physics homework. It's taking me forever to solve it."

"Physics always takes you forever," Noah pointed out.

"Rude!" She pointed the half-eaten fry, dipped in her Frosty, at Noah. "You are a very rude person, you know that? I'm simply trying to be a good student. Physics may not be my strong point, but I'm not bad at it. You're insulating I'm terrible at physics, but I'm better than you. I did research on the monopole last weekend."

"That's not going to be on the test."

"You don't know that."

"Um, guys?" Quinton, normally not one to break their argument, pointed to the window sill. "Is that normal?"

A small fry, only a few centimeters long, was floating above the salt and pepper shakers. Light from the window fell on the fry, and a crystal of salt fell to the table. The four of them just watched the stationary fry.

"If this is the world's cruel way of telling me telekinesis exists but not telepathic perception, I'm suing."

"Sue whom?" Quinton asked. "The world?" He sipped on his iced tea, ice rattling in the plastic cup, and Noah pointedly glanced at Harrison. Noah still believed Harrison had telekinesis, just because of that pink whiteboard marker a couple of weeks ago, but that was Noah Czerny, not Harrison. It was improbable he had the proper expose to get a superpower.

"I don't know, but someone is getting sued."

"That's a terrible answer. Just don't sue anyone."

"That's not a solution to the problem. I've never met anyone with telekinesis, but I thought telekinesis had to be more rare than telepathic perception."

"It's Harrison," Noah blurted out. Harrison groaned, hitting his head on the greasy table. "He is a superhero."

"No, I'm not." Harrison had been home alone a few days in the past couple of weeks and, instead of doing something productive, sat in his room with a neon blue Sharpie marker to see if he had telekinesis. However, after many attempts, Harrison had concluded what he had already known: He didn't have telekinesis.

Superpowers weren't a new concept. An study estimated approximately fifty percent the population had the genetic code for superpowers, but less than fifteen had the proper exposure to be able to use them. Therefore it was logical to assume Harrison was not part of that small percentage and did not have a superpower, but he guessed he could be wrong.

He was hardly wrong, but he could be.

"How can you prove it's not you?" Hannah asked.

Harrison reached over Quinton and grabbed the floating French fly. It felt just like a normal fry, and after dipping it into the ranch, Harrison ate it. It didn't taste unusual. It had just been a normal fry. "I wouldn't be able to replicate the situation."

"Okay, well none of the rest of us have a superpower, so it has to be you. Even if Quinton should statistically be the one with a superpower, since he is in the art streams and more people in the art streams have superpowers than in the same science stream, it has to be you. I guess I have to dub thee Multi-Talented Guy." Hannah had said his apparent superhero name in an extra posh voice. Harrison rolled his eyes. Harrison didn't even like superhero movies.

Even if he was a superhero, what was he supposed to do? Use his telekinesis that he couldn't control to stop shoplifting?

Unfazed by the insanity of Hannah's statement, Quinton sat up. "That sounds super cool! I want to be a superhero too!"

"You don't have a superpower," Hannah pointed out, eating another fry.

"Then... I'll be Harrison's sidekick!"

"You would still need an ability to be a sidekick, though."

"My ability is being Harrison's sidekick. I shall be Shrimp Boy."

"That doesn't make sense."

Deciding to interject before Quinton and Hannah went too far down this particular rabbit hole, Harrison said, "I'm not a superhero, so it doesn't matter."

Hannah scoffed. "Of course you're not a superhero. Noah suggested that, and he's wrong, because you're just someone who has telekinesis, but we still need to come up with a superhero name just in case." Harrison wanted to pick apart the flaws in that logic but decided to let her be. "Though how could anyone ever be a fan of someone called Multi-Talented Guy. It's a terrible name. It's like the name Caped Baldy."

"First of all, Caped Baldy is amazing, and second of all, I would be Multi-Talented Guy's number one fan." Noah smirked around the straw of his Strawberry Passion FruiTea Chillers. Hannah was not amused.

"Don't spite me. You can't even compare Harrison to Saitama."

Harrison considered this. If Harrison was Saitama, that meant Quinton had to be Genos. "Quinton can't be my sidekick."

Quinton pouted. "Why not? I would make a great one!"

"You don't even have a superpower, Q."

"I will be Shrimp Boy, no superpower needed." Quinton stirred his iced tea with the plastic straw. "Great, now you guys have made me hungry for prawn crackers."

"We're literally eating lunch right now. Why are you craving prawn crackers?"

"Says the person who is always craving Peeps."

"That's not even a valid response! That's an ad hominem! We're talking about you being Shrimp Boy."

"You say anything like that, and it sounds bad." Harrison gestured for Quinton's iced tea, and he handed it to him. "Multi-Talented Guy is not a good superhero name either."

"Okay, well, I made it on the spot, Okay? And it's not the worst superhero name."

"It's pretty bad." Quinton and Hannah continued arguing, and Harrison sipped on the iced tea quietly and thought about his chemistry homework. Noah started to take a nap.

After ten minutes of this argument though, Harrison felt like screaming.

* * *

It was impossible for Quinton and Harrison to be in the same class, as they were in different streams. It was improbably for Hannah and Harrison to be in the same class, as they learned in different languages. It was, unfortunately, completely possible for Noah and Harrison to sit near each other, as they were in the same class.

When they had gotten back from summer break, their homeroom teacher had given them new seats. Harrison stayed in the second row but got shifted to the left three seats, which was closer to the air vents anyway. However, Noah got shifted left three seats as well, so Harrison was back to having Noah sitting behind him.

It had to be impossible, or at least improbable, but nope, it was possible.

"Do you understand number ten?" Noah's voice barely carried to where Harrison was sitting. Their chemistry teacher, an Indian woman in her late forties who had went to Yale University in America, enjoyed telling Noah off for talking. In multiple languages. And not to anyone else. Only Noah.

It was entertaining most days, but today Harrison was not in the mood to listen to Noah getting chewed out. "More electrons, more polarizable."

"Okay, thanks." Noah scribbled the answer down, looked at the next question, and poked Harrison in the back with a pen. "Eleven?"

"Skip that problem." Harrison was on question twenty-one out of thirty. Judging by how frequent Noah's questions were, he guessed he wouldn't finish before lunch started as he had planned.

"What about twelve?"

"You have to include heat of vaporization." When Noah didn't ask another question for a minute, Harrison went back to his homework. Only thirteen more minutes until lunch started. He managed to reach question twenty-eight about Hess's Law when the bell rang, signaling the beginning of lunch.

"Remember you have a quiz tomorrow. I do not want to see low scores on this one." Her glance fell on Noah. "Especially after last time, okay Noah?"

"Yeah, yeah. Please stop bringing that up." Noah finished punching the numbers into his calculator and finished number twelve, boxing his answer. "I didn't mean to score in the single digits."

"I will actually tell your parents about your behavior in class if it happens tomorrow, Noah."

"That's fair enough." Noah grabbed his lunch and nodded at Harrison. "Let's go." When he got to the door, he turned around and waved at the teacher. "See you tomorrow!"

"Study tonight!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Noah and Harrison left upstairs to the cafeteria. For some reason, the architect decided the fifth floor, the highest floor in the building, was the safest place for a cafeteria. "Hey, is Q still sick? He hadn't replied to my text this morning."

"I think so." When they got to the fourth floor, Harrison saw a girl and a boy exit Quinton's classroom. He didn't recognize them, but one of them had a white freesia in her hair. "Who are they?"

"Lora and Owen." Then, lowering his voice to a dramatic stage whisper, Noah added, "Lora is a superhero too."

"There's no need to add 'too' as I am not a superhero."

Ignoring Harrison, Noah continued in his whisper, "Three hundred Owen is one too." Harrison raised an eyebrow at him, and Noah sighed. "Fine. Lora has chlorokinesis, but no one knows for sure if Owen has a superpower or not."

Lora must be the one with the freesia in her hair. As they got to the fifth floor and the cafeteria, Lora held the door open for the two of them, and Harrison thanked her politely, as though he and Noah had not just been discussing her and her friend.

The two of them got to their usual area, where Hannah was sitting with her legs crossed, nose in a book. Carry On by Rainbow Rowell was the novel this week, apparently. "Hey," Hannah greeted, not looking up. She had an open tupperware container of green grapes that was left mostly untouched.

Noah sat down, taking out his lunch of brown rice and chickpea curry. "Lora is a superhero."

Hannah sat up, shut her book, and stared directly into Noah's eyes. "Three hundred that Owen is one too." If Harrison didn't know the two of them, he would say it was scripted, but it definitely was not. Noah shot Harrison a I-told-you-so face.

"Did I step into something?" Hannah asked innocently. "I did, didn't I?"

"Just having a superpower is not basis for being a superhero," Harrison explained, keeping his voice level. "Superheroes are classified as-"

"We know, Harrison. They're classified as someone who regularly uses their superpowers to help civilians. You're not a superhero, because you technically don't get a superpower, but you have actions and principles and whatnot." Noah raised an eyebrow. "Are we done now?" Harrison nodded, so Noah turned away and leaned over the at Hannah. "Trung told me about the topographic map. We need to talk about-"

"No we don't-"

"You literally understand chemistry better than-"

"The topographic map was being impossible!"

"Improbable but not impossible," Noah corrected, and Hannah looked like she wanted to scream again. Harrison glanced around the cafeterias in case there was any teachers nearby. He wanted to be able to explain the situation as quickly as possible, but when Noah kept smirking and Hannah's face was almost purple, Harrison had to deescalate the situation.

"What topographic map?" he asked in lieu of Hannah screaming at Noah.

Noah smiled. "A week ago, Hannah's class did this activity having to do with reading topographic maps of different countries, butHannah can't read topographic maps, so it took her an hour to do the worksheet. Hannah can do complicated chemistry labs, but she can't read topographic maps."

"I tried my best!"

Harrison rolled his eyes as they continued arguing about this, about to continue eating his lunch when he realized he left his water bottle back in the classroom. "I'll be back."

"Sure. Don't die along the way," Hannah said.

"Okay." Harrison left the cafeteria, headed back down to the second floor, and turned the handle of the door. It didn't budge.

Great.

The homeroom teacher must be out. That was fine. Harrison could always get a drink at the vending machine, which was on the fourth floor, so he climbed back up the stairs. He walked down the hall of the fourth floor to the very end and entered the small room where the elevator stood. The vending machine faced the elevator, and he noticed that the boy from before, the one that Noah had pointed out, was standing there, listening to something on his phone as he picked a drink.

"...scene at the ice cream parlor, Salvatore's. An unidentified redhead came into the store and attempted to kidnap a fifteen-year-old boy, currently in Form 3. His father, and owner of the ice cream parlor, is here to comment."

"The news?" Harrison asked, and Owen jumped back, nearly falling on his feet.

"Um... Yeah. Where did you come from?"

Harrison didn't know how to respond to that. He walked over and looked through the clear plastic, looking for a drink he would like. There was Gatorade, but they didn't have Glacier Freeze.

"...pretty terrifying, I'd say. Fortunately I have been practicing martial arts for years, so I was ready to fight back, but I think my son was pretty traumatized..."

Harrison glanced down at Owen's phone. A man, apparently named Xidao Huang, who vaguely looked like Jackie Chan, was standing in front of the ice cream parlor, and Harrison recognized that place. He had been there before.

"...no reason for the redhead to come and try to kidnap him. My son said he barely even..."

"Wow, that sucks." Owen's voice drowned out the rest of the sentence. "People are horrible, right? I mean, that man's son is only in Form 3. Why would they attack him? What motivates people to do those things?"

"I don't know," Harrison answered, quite honestly. What motivated anyone to do anything was a mystery to Harrison. "You're Owen, right?"

"Yeah." Owen seemed to stand a little straighter. "How did you know that?"

"Noah told me."

"Oh, right! Quinton's friend, right?"

Harrison nodded, thinking back to what Hannah and Noah said about Owen being a superhero. Was it true? Could he ask? "Q doesn't bother you, does he?" Q. When was the last time Harrison called him that? It had to be at least a year ago.

"No, no, he doesn't. He's actually pretty cool." Owen laughed, turning back to the vending machine. "I was wondering what to get, but I'm not hungry anymore. It was nice talking to you."

"You too."

"What's your name? I'm trying to remember if Quinton mentioned you."

"Harrison." What was the likelihood that Owen actually had a superpower? Improbable but not impossible.

"Oh, yes, Harrison! Quinton talks about you a lot."

"Really?"

"Yeah, totally. It's insane, actually, how much he talks about you." Owen laughed and started walking away, but after three steps, Harrison called out his name. "Yeah?"

What motivates people to do those things? "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure." Owen smiled. "What is it?"

Harrison glanced at the vending machine. Maybe he'd just get a different flavor of Gatorade, like Riptide Rush. "Do you have a superpower?"

Deadly silence. Harrison glanced over, and Owen gave nothing away. His face was as cheerful as it had been before. "No, you're probably confusing me with Lora. She has..." His voice trailed off, staring at the vending machine, and Harrison looked back inside. A purple Gatorade had somehow started floating inside the machine. "Are you doing that?"

"I think so." Harrison didn't want telekinesis. He didn't want more complications in his life. "Can you teach me?" Harrison couldn't even make a salt packet lift a centimeter above the table.

"Teach you?" Owen laughed. "I don't think I'm qualified. I've had it my entire life, and I've always sort of known how. I don't think I could teach you."

"Please?"

Owen hesitated. He must known how out of character Harrison was being right now, based on stories Quinton must have told him "I can try."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Owen smiled. "I really can."

"Thank you."

"No problem." Owen started walk away, out of the room and down the hall and back to the cafeteria.

Harrison turned back to the vending machine. The purple liquid sloshing around in the bottle, Harrison watched it lower itself slowly, to the bottom of the machine, until it made a complete stop. Harrison reached down, took it out of the machine, and twisted the cap open.

He took a swig. Nothing unusual. Nothing abnormal.

* * *

Harrison focused on the bottle of eyedrops in front of him. He willed it to float three inches up in the air, but it didn't budge. Half an empty bottle of eyedrops, and Harrison couldn't move it. Harrison felt like this would be a terrific meme. Who would win? An academic in Form 4, or a half empty bottle of eyedropper?

Chewing on the inside of his cheeks, Harrison sighed. He picked up the bottle of eyedrops and put it back in his mom's makeup bag. Owen had told him to practice the techniques at home. Apparently, if Harrison imagined it vividly enough, it would move on its own. If there was a will, there was a way.

Not with Harrison.

He got up from the couch, grabbed the bag, and headed to the bathroom. It was a Sunday morning, his mom was at work, he was done with all his homework, and he was going to start his day off by actually moving something with his mind, but apparently that wasn't going to happen.

Practicing how to apply eyeliner would have to do.

During junior high, his mom had let him use makeup once for Halloween. He had gone as Zuko from Avatar: The Last Airbender and had used extensive makeup to pull it off. When he showed an interest in using makeup in daily life, his mom had agreed, as long as he didn't wear it outside in public.

Therefore, it was only these Sunday mornings when he was home alone that he practiced.

After one eye, Harrison's phone rang. He walked back to his room, looked at the name, and picked up. "What's wrong?" Hannah had said on multiple occasions to multiple people that she was a Gen Z so she would never call anyone ever, but here she was. Calling Harrison.

"Are you still bleeding?"

"Hannah? Who's bleeding?"

"Joshua!" Hannah seemed to be struggling to keep her voice level. "We were... Joshua, just keep putting pressure on it! I'll solve this problem. I'm getting Harrison to help, okay?" Hannah sighed. "Sorry, but we were moving the couch because of the glare, and we knocked over a vase, and then something wooden broke? I don't know what, but he has a splinter in his foot and he stabbed himself on his other foot so that is bleeding and I don't know what to do."

"I can help with the splinter. You may need a medicine professional for the bleeding."

"How do I get rid of a splinter? Tape? We tried that already."

"Eggshell. White vinegar. Glue."

"Okay, I need more words. What do we do with the bleeding? I think it's dying down, because we've just been putting pressure on it."

"Keep doing that."

"Okay. Um, you said we could use white vinegar? Tell me more about that. I don't think we have any eggs left, and glue seems dangerous."

"Put the splinter area in white vinegar for thirty minutes. The splinter should rise."

"Do I need tweezers? I think we still have the ones from Samuel. He used to pluck his eyebrows-"

"Don't talk about Samuel when I'm bleeding," Joshua shouted from wherever he was. "What about the splinter?"

"Soak it in white vinegar." Hannah moved the phone away from her mouth. "I'll get the white vinegar. Do not hang up on Harrison."

"Does the white vinegar work?" Joshua asked, now speaking into the phone quietly. Harrison wasn't sure if he was being quiet because he didn't want Hannah to overhear, or if he was just quiet because of his nature.

"It's worked before."

"Is there any other method?"

"The only other ones I know are tape, glue, eggshell."

"Can you bring glue just in case."

"Yes." Harrison looked around his room for Elmer's glue. Grabbing it and stuffing it in a bag, he grabbed his wallet and keys. "How bad is the bleeding?"

"It's been ten minutes, and it's still bleeding."

"That's... not normal." Harrison turned off all the lights in the apartment, left a note on the whiteboard in the kitchen, and locked the door behind him. Luckily the Zhao family only lived a five minute walk away, because it wasn't until he got to the entrance of his apartment complex that he realized he hadn't washed the eyeliner off.

He still hadn't hung up on Hannah and Joshua, so he left the app and checked himself in the camera. The red eyeliner was noticeable on the one eye. Hopefully no one commented, because the last thing Harrison needed today was gender dysphoria.

Keeping his head low, he walked over and met with Hannah, standing outside, wearing white shorts almost covered by her red sweatshirt. "Joshua probably has hemophilia."

Joshua must've heard it over the phone, because he said into Harrison's ears, "I do not."

Not hearing him, Hannah shouted, "He keeps bleeding!" A few kids playing soccer glanced over at her. "I'm pretty sure he's losing too much blood."

"I'm not a medical professional."

"Oh, I know, but you're the best I've got. Noah lives too far away to be helpful, and Quinton has no interest in the medical field, and your mom works in a hospital, so-"

"She worked part-time at a hospital."

"Okay, well, we took the vase piece out of his foot-"

"That's not a good idea. It causes more bleeding."

Hannah's face fell. Joshua was silent on the other end. Harrison's eye twitched.

"Put me on speakerphone." Harrison didn't hesitate to obey, and Joshua shouted as loudly as he could, "YOU CAUSED THIS BLEEDING, HANNAH." One of the kids in brown hair playing soccer looked up from the ball at them. "I am calling the hospital."

"No, no, Joshua, we don't have the money to go to the hospital. The bleeding's dying down, right? Just put neomycin on it. You're not going to die."

"I have school tomorrow."

Hannah sent a worried look to Harrison. "Samuel's spouse can help, can't zie?"

"Zie's not a medical professional," Harrison said, putting his hands in the pocket. "Let me see the cut."

"Okay." Hannah lead the way to their apartment. Joshua didn't hang up, but Harrison moved the phone away from his ear. "By the way, your eye looks really good though. Do you want to borrow a palette? I can teach you to do highlights and contour. I had to teach Noah, but he's completely rubbish at it." They got to their apartment, and she unlocked the front door. They stepped inside, took off their shoes, and headed to the living room, where Joshua was sitting on the couch in the center of the room and pressuring a white towel to his foot and resting his other foot in a large bowl of clear liquid, presumably white vinegar. He was using his free hand to play 2048 on Hannah's phone.

Joshua rolled his eyes and went to hang up on Harrison. "Don't talk about makeup when I'm bleeding."

"Doesn't his eye look so good, though? He deserves to have his entire face look good if he so desires." Hannah put her hands in her hoodie pocket. "I'm going to call Samuel to see if he can help." She grabbed her phone from Joshua and left the room.

Harrison looked around the living room. They had moved the television to another wall, which meant that the cabinet it rested atop of went with it. The vase pieces were gathered in a corner with a broom, and there was a small nightstand with a corner splintered off. The couch was only halfway moved, but upon the emergency, the two had left it in the middle of the room.

He looked down at Joshua, who was staring at the ceiling, and then look at the foot with a splinter. The splinter seemed to be rising. Then he moved to the towel away, hoping it wouldn't cause a rush of blood, but the blood was only a small ooze now. "What is the rate of flow now compared to at the beginning?"

"It was four times faster before."

The blood was clotting. "It should heal in a couple of days. Just put a bandage over it, and don't exert your foot too much."

"You should be a doctor!" Hannah praised, walking back in and crunching on salt and vinegar chips. "You could totally be a super successful doctor. Achieve that Asian dream. Become a surgeon or whatever."

"I don't want to become a surgeon." Harrison reached into his bag and looked for a makeup wipe. None. He looked for a bandage, but none.

He should've taken some time to prepare before he left. He should've washed the eyeliner off, even if he got red eyeliner on a towel and forgot to clean it up. Even if Joshua was bleeding, he should've taken the time to make sure he had everything. He didn't even have a bandage.

"Can we take the splinter out yet?" Hannah asked, wiping her hands on her thighs, leaving crumbs everywhere. "I can teach you contour while we wait."

"Get me a bandage, Hannah."

"Don't tell me what to do, Joshua."

"You don't even use contour. How can you teach Harrison?"

Hannah rolled her eyes. "I know how to apply it. It has to be somewhat similar to highlight, right?" She walked over to where Joshua was sitting. "Wait, why is the splinter floating in the water?" Hannah plucked the splinter out of the bowl of vinegar, Joshua's foot still resting in it. "Has it been half an hour yet?"

Joshua dried his foot on the bloodied towel and then brought it to his face to examine. "I couldn't see the splinter a minute ago. How is it out?"

"I guess Multi-Talented Boy did it." Hannah smirked. "Multi-Talented Boy did Joshua a favor and telekinesis-ed the splinter out? I have got to tell Noah this."

"I didn't do anything," Harrison argued.

"I guess you're a superhero now."

Joshua frowned. "What kind of superhero name is Multi-Talented Boy?"

"Whatever. It's better than any other superhero name for Harrison. He doesn't have much of a signature." Hannah reached into the bag for a handful of salt and vinegar chips. "I'm going to go teach Harrison contour now. I'll get you a bandage while I'm at it, and Harrison, if you could move the couch for us, that'd be great."

"I don't have telekinesis." The textbook definition said that sound must be perceived by human ears, so as Harrison stood in the living room, next to Joshua who was staring at the ceiling and in the room adjacent to Hannah who was rummaging for a bandage and a palette, Harrison made no sound.

He never really expected anything else, though. And if he couldn't practice telekinesis, contour was at least something he could practice with his two hands.

He followed Hannah to the bathroom.

* * *

"You still suck at this."

"Owen! Be nice. He's trying his best." Lora, lying in the school courtyard with a halo of hibiscuses around her head, sighed, exhausted. "Can't you at least teach him better? He's in the science stream, and he's smart, so it's your method of teaching."

"I'm trying to teach!" Owen had telekinesis his whole life. It was as natural to him as breathing. To Harrison, who only considered he had telekinesis a few months ago, every new skill was foreign. "Let's just take a break."

"We've taken four breaks already," Lora pointed out.

Harrison managed to float a whiteboard marker unintentionally. Harrison managed to float a French fry unintentionally. Harrison managed to float a splinter unintentionally. He can't manage to float anything intentionally, which isn't surprising. He can't even tell his best friend he had a crush on him.

Packing his lunch, he stuffed his lunchbox into his backpack. "I have to go anyway."

"Oh, sorry Owen is so useless at teaching you." Lora sat up, and the hibiscuses left. "Go have fun doing whatever you're doing."

"Have a good day," Harrison said, putting his backpack on and adjusting the straps idly. "Thank you for teaching me, Owen."

"You should-"

"I have a question," Lora said, interrupting her friend. "Do you like anyone?"

Harrison nearly groaned. At some point, everyone asked him that question, usually with a specific person in mind. "Hannah and I are just-"

"No, no, not Hannah and you. It's obvious that Hannah and Noah have a thing for each other." Lora's warm smile elicited pleasant feelings in his chest. The grass around her turned greener. "I meant you and Quinton."

Harrison paused. No one had ever asked him that, and he didn't think he was obvious. "Am I obvious?"

Owen shrugged. "I don't think Quinton's noticed yet, but I don't think that means anything. Quinton is pretty oblivious when he wants to be."

"You should tell him how you feel," Lora suggested.

Harrison shook his head. "I have to go."

"Yes, totally. Practice at home. Make it casual, though. Don't just sit there and focus. Think about flipping a light switch without leaving your seat. Think about grabbing a pair of chopsticks without walking across the kitchen." Owen shrugged. "I do it casually all the time. It's not that serious a thing."

Harrison nodded. "See you tomorrow." He waved goodbye and left back inside the building, up to the fifth floor of the cafeteria. He only got to the third floor when drama hit him in the face.

Someone in Form 6, or at least they were tall enough to be in Form 6, used his arms to cage a younger, shorter girl to the wall. Trembling, she listened to the guy go on and on about something or another, and Harrison rolled his eyes. He'd prefer a monster straight out of Z-City, but this was reality, where men did horrendous things to girls all the time.

"What are you doing?" Harrison asked.

The guy moved his arms away, and the girl moved away from the wall. "Why do you care?"

"Leave her alone. Don't waste her lunch period by being a nuisance." The two of them were a few tens of meters away from the staircase, but he walked over anyway. "It'd be a shame if you were expelled from school in your last year."

"I'm just talking to her."

Harrison turned to the girl. "Is he just 'talking' to you?" She shook her head. "See. She doesn't see it that way. Do you want me to call over a teacher?"

"Whatever. She was asking for it, wearing a short skirt." The guy stormed away, and Harrison stuffed his hands into his jean pocket. Why were guys like this?

"Are you okay?" Harrison asked the girl, who nodded quickly. "Do you know Hannah Zhao?"

"We're in the same class."

"Do you know his name?"

"Yeah, he told me it."

"Talk to her about this. She'll scare him."

She laughed quietly. "That sounds like Hannah. Thanks."

"You don't have to thank me. It's something men should just do." Harrison thought back to sitting on the couch of his apartment next to his mother, eyeliner on the coffee table, and he couldn't even lift that up. He couldn't do anything, but this was something he could do. "Have a good rest of your day."

"You too." She left back down the hall, and Harrison left to the cafeteria. Noah was making up a physics test, so Hannah and Quinton were discussing books at the moment. They were comparing Carry On to the Harry Potter series when he got there.

"Did you do any better than last time?" Hannah leaned over the table. "Did you manage to lift anything up?"

"No."

"You loser." Hannah put a L on her forehead with her right hand. "Such an L."

"I'm sure he's trying," Quinton said. He had a red spiral notebook open in front of him, notes written in black ink on that page, and his school lunch of macaroni and cheese and orange juice kept the notebook company. "Harrison tries his hardest in everything he does."

"You certainly don't. You're studying for history one hour before the test."

"For your information, history sucks."

"I'm not going to argue. I took the science stream for a reason. I'm pretty sure no one enjoys history except for weird American boys on Tumblr who are obsessed with World War II."

"That's oddly specific," Quinton said, but didn't question it too much. He turned to Harrison. "Hey, flip the page of my notebook for me. I know you can do it and prove Hannah wrong. Let's make Hannah look like an... What did you say? An L?"

"It's an American thing," Hannah explained. "Samuel taught it to me."

Harrison stared at the notebook. What had Trung said when the marker was floating? We have a ghost. If Harrison thought about it not as him doing something, but as an invisible ghosting helping him, maybe it'd help.

It didn't.

"You've only visited American thrice. Why are you so American?"

Improbable but not impossible. Noah always said that, imitating what Hannah had said once, but it was true of many things, wasn't it? Harrison getting a superpower was improbable but not impossible. Him being able to control it was improbable but not impossible.

He fixed his gaze on the page. He imagined he was flipping the page with his hand, ergo an imaginary third hand, but a hand nonetheless. Not even a ruffle of a page.

"I like American culture. Sometimes I wish I went to private high school in America. It seems like my kind of place."

"Don't all the movies show that there are parties and a ton of drama and bullying? It seems so toxic."

What motivates people to do those things? Owen had been right. People did things for weird reasons. Some of them were justified, some of them weren't, but there was always motivation behind an action. There was no reason for Harrison to prove himself against Hannah right now. It was illogical. Hannah didn't think less of him for not being able to do it.

Maybe it was Quinton. He wanted to see Harrison do it.

Pages ruffled. Blue ink stared back at Quinton. The macaroni and cheese next to the notebook remained untouched. Nothing looked unusual. Everything was normal.

They had all seen it though.

I guess you're a superhero now.

"You did it!" Quinton grinned ear-to-ear. "Hannah, take that. You're the L."

"You're using that wrong."

"I don't care. Harrison actually used his telekinesis intentionally for once! This is a momentous occasion." Quinton held out his orange juice. "Let's cheers."

"We're not drinking alcohol," Hannah pointed out, but she held up her water bottle. Harrison dug his out of his backpack, uncapped it, and held it up to theirs. "What should we cheer to?"

"To knowing a superhero," Quinton suggested. "To being a sidekick known as Shrimp Boy."

"To hopefully the death of that nickname," Hannah suggested. "To Joshua not actually bleeding to death."

Quinton paused. "Wait, what? Joshua almost died?!"

"I'll explain it to you later."

"To practice makes perfect," Harrison said, stopping the argument before it started. They still hadn't found the right toast, though.

Eventually, he suggested, "To superpowers."

"To superpowers," they all repeated, and they drank.

Back on the second floor, in the classroom with the windows closed and air conditioning off, the pages on top left corner of Noah's test fluttered.

* * *

endnotes ‣ I apologize for how long this ended up being (this is around 9k, 3k longer than my convenience store AU). this was originally going to be shorter than my convenience store AU, but I think replanning and rewriting it three times influenced the length... anyway, this summer, I'm planning to update Every Universe once a week in order to actually write some AUs I've been putting off, and because I have so many WIPs. and you may start to notice, after this fic, that Harrison will be referred to with they/them pronouns!