April couldn't do magic. In a city where even children turned on lights with a gesture. She stopped in the crowd, watching a group of young magicians. A girl lifted a glowing sphere effortlessly. Applause. April inhaled slowly. She tried to imitate her. She closed her eyes. She concentrated. The light appeared. For an instant. Then it exploded in a shower of cold water that splashed her face. Someone laughed. Not out of malice. But it was enough. April lowered her gaze, her face hot with embarrassment. Inside her, something shifted. Like a knock against a closed door. She turned away without saying anything. The square continued to exist without her. A man lit a lantern with a distracted gesture. A little girl made leaves dance between her fingers. April walked among them as if behind invisible glass. She stopped at the fountain. The water was calm. Perfect. She bent down and splashed her face. Cold. Clean. Normal. Then her fingers touched the surface. The water trembled. It didn't move. It just trembled. As if it recognized the contact. April jerked her hand away. She remained still. She sat on the nearby bench. Her heart wasn't beating in a precise rhythm. One beat too fast. One too slow. She inhaled.

"Calm down..." she murmured.

She looked down at a puddle. And saw it. It wasn't her reflection. Purple hair, wavy as if submerged in water. Green eyes. Still. Aware. As if they knew exactly who they were looking at. April looked up abruptly. The reflection was normal. Silence. The water in the fountain trembled again. This time, more forcefully. April remained still. Because for a moment she had the feeling that it wasn't she who was looking at the water. But the water was looking at her.