Alexa was standing at Sarah's desk, holding one of Sarah's books. When Sarah stepped into her room and saw that, she swallowed once, stepping around to sit back on her bed. Alexa put the book back on the shelf, carefully sliding it back into where it had been left as though the books had some sort of organization. Alexa sat back down on the floor where she'd been before.

"So, um, do you have any questions for me?" asked Alexa.

Sarah shook her head.

Alexa opened her mouth, but Sarah quickly spoke, "Why Qi? Did you just make up a word for it?"

Alexa's eyes widened briefly, and she glanced up at the shelf before answering, "I guess you don't read much fantasy? I'd assumed... it's a magic thing. Qi, mana, the force? Dunno why I picked qi. The force doesn't seem right, and haven't you noticed it's thickest around plants and food and people? And the more energetic people are, the thicker it is too? So I just started calling that in my head, ever since I realized I can move it around. The green makes me think of life, too."

It made sense to Sarah, that was probably part of why the biology classroom was so miserable. "I really don't like those places, much, they always feel so loud and the light hurts. I guess I didn't realize it was the fog that hurt, I just assumed it was the noise and sun and stuff."

Alexa said, "Really? I mean, don't you always hang out in the art room? The lights there are way brighter, and he's right next to the shops too. I can't stand the hammering and tool noises over there. But I guess I know what you mean. I like going out into the woods and stuff, it's really hard to ignore people sometimes. And yeah, it's for sure worse when the fog is bright, now that you mention it. Although..."

It was Sarah's turn to wait while Alexa looked for words.

"Growing up," Alexa said, "growing up it was hard to not notice when people were having a bad day, and it's always kinda been my thing, to help people have a better day. I'd notice someone was upset, and I couldn't focus on anything but dealing with that. But, this year has been maybe different. I've honestly been keeping myself up sometimes because lately, I'll notice something is wrong and just sorta not care. Like, yeah, my brother came home from work angry at something but I'll just finish my homework and go to bed. It used to be I'd barge in and clown around, or make him brownies, or whatever until he forgot to be mad at whatever."

"Ok," said Sarah slowly. "Is that bad?"

"No!" said Alexa. "Yes? Maybe? Is it bad that I don't think it's bad? And why did it just now change?"

"Maybe it's a teenage thing?"

"Ha!" Alexa barked the word out, rather than laughing. "My mom says that. Well, she says it's hormones. But I don't think so, and I think maybe it's the same with you."

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"I don't think I've ever been worried about helping people like that," said Sarah.

"No, maybe not. But you didn't even notice, did you? Why not?" Alexa gestured to the window, where the blinds were open and the morning sun was streaming through the curtain onto Sarah's bed, right where she was sitting.

It felt good. The bright sunlight was warm on Sarah's shoulder, and she'd been relaxing in it without noticing.

"The first day of bio this year, I'm pretty sure you hissed when you stepped into the sun," said Alexa. "And you flinch when birds chirp outside, and you can't concentrate when people are whispering in class, yeah? So what's changed? And is it really so farfetched for me to be thinking that what changed with me is what changed with you?"

"No, wait," said Sarah. She was looking down, her mouth working as she looked at the fog in her room, the pink light in her room slowly brightening into a pale purple shade. She could feel the blanket folded up neatly under her bed, and she could just barely spot a glint of blue where the dead fly sat under her closet door. The fuzzy green ball still hovered in the air, where Alexa had stepped around it to sit down.

"But it's not the same, is it?" asked Sarah. "We're different. So different. You've never been bothered by sounds, I'm not bothered by people being, um, bothered. Finn sure as hell isn't bothered by sounds or people.

"Look," Sarah said with a burst of impulse. She reached out, gathering a batch of blue light on her hand. "Blue, not green, not red."

She shook her hand, trying to leave a ball of blue light in the air to match the ball Alexa had left. It clung to her hand stubbornly, beginning to crawl up her arm and cause the familiar burning sensation. Was it taking longer to burn? No, she just didn't have very much gathered up. She reached down and pulled up her hospital blanket from the corner that was sticking out from under her bed. It took a smidgen of the light, but it was still very, very full, leaving Sarah with a handful of light.

Alexa was watching her with wide eyes as Sarah reached out to dump the last of the light into her desk chair. "I can't put light into the air like you can, it just doesn't work. And when I let it touch me it starts to hurt - it's why I had my seizure at school. What I do, I put the light into things. Look," said Sarah as she tossed the blanket into Alexa's lap.

Alexa caught it easily, looking at the light imbued into the cotton fibers. She said, "So if you put it into something, it doesn't knock you out?"

"More than that," said Sarah.

"What do you," Alexa yelped, "the Hell is this!"

Alexa scrabbled her way up the wall, brushing at her arms as the blanket clung to her. Sarah giggled as the blanket reached out to wrap around Alexa's face before the other girl was finally able to fling it to the ground. The blanket immediately slithered back to Alexa, trying to crawl up her feet as Alexa danced away.

Sarah brought the blanket back over to her, picking it up and putting it on her bed where it quietly folded up. "Sorry, yeah, that was just me. Sorta," said Sarah. "The light doesn't just sit there, it makes the things, well, move. I haven't done much yet. It's not like it's been that long, all I know is that the more light I put in, the stronger the thing gets, and if I push too hard it loses light.

"So I'm not sure what you want me to tell you," said Sarah. "I can't put light into nothing, and you can't put light into stuff. So we can't be the same, I'm sorry."

"Please don't ever do that again. It's not supposed to move like that!" Alexa was rubbing at her arms, watching the blanket where it sat inoffensively on the bed. But she smiled suddenly, "It's the colors, Sarah. It all makes sense!"

And with that, Alexa reached out to the green ball of light with her hands, and the light flowed into her hand, tinging Alexa's whole body green.