ItsReallyNotThat

  The campus courtyard thrummed with the usual chatter and movement as Hazel and Mia stepped out of css together. The afternoon sun warmed the stone paths, but beneath the surface, something sharper lingered.

  As they walked, faint whispers drifted from nearby groups of students. “Did you hear about Hazel? They say she’s infected... changed by that Hemotropis luxura virus.”

  Another voice, just as quiet but colder: “I don’t trust her. Who knows what she’s capable of now?”

  Mia gnced nervously at Hazel, who kept her expression steady, eyes forward, unfazed but aware.

  A few heads turned, eyes lingering a moment longer, their gazes heavy with suspicion or curiosity. The murmurs rippled like a silent tide, spreading distrust among their peers.

  Hazel’s grip tightened slightly around her bag strap, but she said nothing, her calm exterior unbroken.

  Mia squeezed her hand gently. “Ignore them. They don’t know you.”

  Hazel gave a small, appreciative smile but said only, “This is just the beginning.”

  ...

  Stel rounded the corner, the heavy weight of her backpack dragging at one shoulder. She wasn’t looking for trouble — just heading toward the common room to meet Hazel after css. But then a flicker of voices caught her attention. Voices sharp and low, carrying a venom she couldn’t ignore.

  She slowed, cautious but curious, moving closer until she could see the small group huddled near the lockers. Three students, leaning in, speaking in hushed, spiteful tones. Stel’s heart tightened as she caught fragments of what they were saying.

  “Did you see her? Acting like she owns the pce.”

  “That’s the worst part. She’s so calm, like she’s above it all,” the first voice spat, a boy’s voice dripping with disdain.

  “She’s disgusting. She used to be a man, for God’s sake,” another girl muttered, folding her arms as if to shield herself from some invisible offense.

  “Yeah, and now she’s one of those vampires,” the third, a nky kid with sharp eyes, sneered. “I don’t get how anyone can stand her.”

  Stel’s breath hitched. The words sliced through the quiet hallway air, sharper than she’d expected. Her grip on the strap of her bag tightened until her knuckles whitened.

  “She’s not just a freak,” Stel said quietly, stepping into the light, voice low but steady.

  The group turned, surprise fshing across their faces as they noticed her. The boy with the sneer smiled thinly. “And who are you supposed to be? Her new bodyguard?”

  Stel squared her shoulders, eyes hardening. “Her sister. And if you have something to say about her, you say it to me.”

  A girl scoffed, stepping forward just a little. “Family loyalty doesn’t make her less of a freak. You should be embarrassed.”

  “Embarrassed?” Stel echoed, voice rising. “Why? Because she’s the strongest person I know? Because she survived something none of you could even begin to understand?”

  “Survived?” The nky kid ughed, but there was no humor in it. “She’s a walking disaster. A man who thinks she can just switch and act like she’s some… some queen bee now.”

  “Don’t you dare call her a man,” Stel snapped, stepping closer. “She’s Hazel. She’s my sister. You don’t get to erase that.”

  “Oh, spare us the sentimental crap,” the first boy said, leaning back against the lockers casually. “She’s different. We all know it. The virus… that thing they call Hemotropis luxura—it changes you. She’s not the same person.”

  Stel’s eyes narrowed. “She’s still herself. She’s just had to change how she lives because of it.”

  “Yeah, well, acting calm and steady doesn’t fool me,” the girl said, crossing her arms tightly. “It’s like she’s hiding something. How can she be so composed when she’s basically a freak?”

  “You don’t understand what she’s been through,” Stel said, voice fierce. “You don’t know how much she’s had to lose, how hard she fights just to stay human, even if she isn’t exactly the same anymore.”

  The boy shook his head, voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Poor Hazel, so tragic. Used to be a guy, now she’s a vampire. I mean, what’s next? You defending monsters now?”

  Stel’s fist clenched at her side. “She’s not a monster. She’s my sister. And she’s braver than any of you.”

  The group exchanged gnces, smirks pying on their lips as if amused by her passion.

  “Aww, is the little sister gonna cry?” the nky kid jeered. “You really think sticking up for her is gonna change anything? People talk. People stare. And it’s only going to get worse.”

  Stel took a deep breath, trying to calm the surge of anger that threatened to overwhelm her.

  “Yeah, people stare. So what? Let them stare. She’s still more human than half the judgmental idiots here.”

  “More human?” The girl spat the words like poison. “She doesn’t even eat normal food anymore, does she? What kind of life is that?”

  Stel’s voice dipped into a low growl. “She still lives. She still fights. That’s more life than most of you have.”

  “Still, it’s creepy how she just… acts like nothing’s wrong,” the boy said, voice ced with disgust. “Like she’s some untouchable creature. I can’t stand it.”

  “Maybe because she’s stronger than you,” Stel shot back, stepping even closer. “Maybe because she’s been through hell and came out on the other side without losing who she is.”

  The girl’s eyes narrowed, the pyful sneer repced with something colder. “You’re just a kid pying little sister to a freak. You don’t get it.”

  “I get plenty,” Stel said fiercely. “I get that you’re scared of what you don’t understand. I get that you want to make her look like a monster because it makes you feel better about yourselves.”

  The group’s ughter was a sharp contrast to Stel’s rising fury.

  “Well, keep ughing,” she said, voice steady but full of steel. “Because when you look at Hazel, you’re not seeing a freak. You’re seeing someone who’s still fighting for a life none of you could survive.”

  For a moment, the hallway held only the sound of heavy breathing and the soft shuffling of feet.

  Then the girl in the group shrugged and muttered, “Whatever. Freak or not, we’re done here.”

  The others nodded, backing away slowly but still watching her with a mixture of disdain and curiosity.

  Stel didn’t move. Her gaze stayed sharp and unwavering, the fire in her eyes burning long after they turned their backs.

  The corridor fell momentarily silent, broken only by the shuffle of retreating footsteps. Stel remained pnted where she stood, arms crossed, pulse simmering from the confrontation. The sting of their words still hung in the air, but so did her refusal to let them linger unchallenged.

  Then she saw Hazel.

  She moved like liquid shadow, each step measured, heels clicking softly on the tile. Her golden-amber eyes swept the corridor and settled on Stel — then, slowly, on the group still loitering nearby. She didn’t speak at first, letting her presence say everything.

  Stel’s shoulders rexed only slightly. Reinforcements had arrived.

  Hazel stopped beside her, gaze flicking from face to face. There was no warmth in her smile — just a patient, polished curve of lips that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  “Oh,” the nky boy muttered, lifting his voice for an audience. “The monster arrives. Right on cue.”

  Hazel tilted her head, just a little. “Monster?” Her tone was velvet — smooth, but edged. “That’s awfully brave, coming from someone who couldn’t hold eye contact with a mirror.”

  The boy flushed. “You’re not fooling anyone. You’re not human anymore. Just a parasite wearing skin.”

  “And yet,” Hazel murmured, stepping forward by a single inch, “here I am, unbothered by your heartbeat pounding in your throat. Curious, isn’t it? That you’re not afraid enough to shut up — just enough to run if I moved too quickly.”

  There was a flicker in the boy’s eyes — not quite fear, but close.

  The girl beside him crossed her arms. “We’re not afraid of you. You act like you’re better than us. Just because you’re… whatever the hell you are now.”

  Hazel’s shes lowered slightly. “No, not better. But smarter, perhaps. You see, I don’t have to raise my voice or grow fangs to remind you who holds the sharpest teeth.”

  Stel stayed silent, watching her sister with something like awe. This wasn’t just composure — it was elegance ced with the dangerous restraint of something ancient and predatory.

  “You’re disgusting,” the girl spat. “Pretending to be normal. Acting like you belong.”

  Hazel's smile returned, colder this time. “What an amusing choice of words — ‘pretending.’ I wonder, does it sting that someone you used to ignore now leaves you speechless with just a look?”

  The boy tried to ugh but it came out hollow. “You’re a freak. You were nothing before. And now you’re just a—”

  Hazel stepped closer, and he flinched — barely, but enough.

  “Say it again,” she said, voice still soft, still smooth. “Slower this time. I want to hear the courage fall out of your mouth.”

  They faltered. All of them.

  Hazel leaned back, the smile returning, serene and unreadable.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  Stel looked between the group and Hazel, pride fring beneath her ribs. But even she hadn’t seen this edge of her sister before — or maybe she had, and only now understood it for what it was.

  As Hazel turned and began walking away, Stel fell into step beside her. The quiet between them stretched comfortably, heavy with shared resolve.

  “Thanks for coming,” Stel muttered, her voice low.

  Hazel didn’t look over. “They were too loud. I don’t like barking dogs.”

  Stel smirked, tension finally easing. “Neither do I.”

  Behind them, the group lingered, their bravado now fractured and brittle — haunted not by a threat they could name, but by the terrifying ease with which she didn’t need to make one.

  They walked in silence for a while, the echo of their footsteps fading into quieter corridors away from the student body. Stel’s hands were balled into fists at her sides, tension lingering in her shoulders like heat after a fme.

  “God,” she finally muttered, “the nerve of them.”

  Hazel gnced over. Her expression had settled into that cool, unreadable calm again. But she listened.

  “They talk all that trash when you’re not around, and the second you show up, it’s like—like they forget how mouths work. Cowards,” Stel snapped. “They just… they look at you like you’re this beautiful bomb about to go off, and suddenly all their opinions evaporate.”

  Hazel arched an eyebrow, her voice low and lightly amused. “A beautiful bomb?”

  Stel threw her a gre, but it was half fond. “You know what I mean. They don’t even have the guts to be hateful to your face. But the second your back’s turned? Freak. Parasite. Pretending. All of it.”

  Hazel’s lips parted slightly, a breath like a sigh escaping her. “It’s easier for them to feel brave when they’re safe. Distance makes monsters out of shadows.”

  “Well, screw that,” Stel growled. “You’re not some shadow. You’re right here. And you’re not pretending. You’re handling it. Like, better than anyone else could.”

  They stopped just outside a quiet courtyard, where sunlight streamed through stted benches and leaves fluttered in silence overhead. Hazel turned to her, face softening a degree.

  “You don’t have to defend me, you know,” she said gently.

  “Yes, I do,” Stel shot back. “Because they don’t see you the way I do. They see something different and get scared. I see my sister. I see someone who didn’t ask for any of this, who’s doing her best not to fall apart while they whisper behind her back.”

  Hazel’s eyes dimmed with a glint of something tender—fleeting, hidden quickly beneath a small smile.

  “I can live with the whispers,” she said. “But thank you. For being louder than them.”

  Stel huffed, dragging a hand through her hair. “You’re damn right I’ll be louder.”

  Hazel chuckled softly, the sound delicate as gss. “You always are.”

  They stood there a moment longer, the tension bleeding off slowly as campus sounds filled in the quiet. Distant voices. A door smming. Wind brushing past them like a hand through silk.

  Then Stel looked up at her. “But if they say anything again, I swear I’m going to—”

  Hazel held up a finger, a teasing glint in her golden eyes. “Violence?”

  “Just a little.”

  “I’ll allow it,” Hazel said, smiling now in earnest. “But only if I get to watch.”

  Stel ughed despite herself. The anger hadn’t vanished completely, but it felt easier now — smaller, more manageable in Hazel’s presence. Even with the whispers, the stares, and the venom, Hazel still stood tall.

  And that, Stel thought, is what scared them most.