Rachel set the last cardboard box on her dorm room bed; taking a deep breath, she sat down, sullenly looking over at Cloe’s—her new roommate—side of the room. It was bright and colorful, reflecting her bubbly personality.
They’d talked online earlier that week; Cloe’s previous roommate dropped out of the University of Miami, leaving an opening for her. Rachel had mostly done all her classes online at home before this, but things had changed.
Taking out her cell phone, she unlocked it, opened her voicemail, and listened to her father’s message in Korean:
“Sung-Hyo, I know this is challenging, and you haven’t lived on your own before, but we both know Alexa and you aren’t going to see eye to eye; the constant fighting has been taxing on everyone—though I know it isn’t all your fault.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. Not ‘all’ my fault… She’s the one that always has to say something; I’m not going to just let it slide. How can Nam stand her?! I get her dad’s a huge contributor to the company—she’s totally the opposite of our family, though.
An agitated growl rumbled in her throat as her father’s message continued.
“Your mother and I couldn’t be prouder of the strides you’ve taken in your martial arts and academic studies—hehe, your grandfather loves to hear about your achievements every time we speak—and, that being said, maybe it is time for you to find something more outside of the family.”
Mom’s suggestion, no doubt, Rachel internally sighed. I’m too busy for a social life… First, university credits while in school weren’t enough, and now they want me to socialize!?
“In any case, we love you, and I know you’ll continue growing in Miami. Of course, heh, your mother will want you back at least a few times a month—it’s only a three-hour drive—and we both know she’d squeal at the opportunity to spend time with you in Miami. We’ll talk later.”
Breathing in deeply, she let it out in a large, slow sigh. “Huu-haaa…”
She fell back on the unmade mattress—far less comfortable than her one at home—and pulled her shoulder-length, black hair to the side; it was March 26th—Saturday—and in two days, it would be the start of her junior year of college at 19-years-old.
If she pushed a little harder, she’d have her bachelor’s in legal studies by the end of summer, which was what she planned; there were benefits to being on campus, but her issue was the circumstances surrounding it.
Her full lips tightened as Cloe walked through the door, her roommate’s green eyes lighting up as she saw her with all the boxes stacked neatly on the floor.
“Rachel! Oh, wait, should I call you Rachel or, umm—Park Sung-Hyo?” she tentatively asked, butchering her Korean name while reading a small piece of paper that hung on the door.
“Eh-yeah, Rachel is fine. It’s hard for most Americans to pronounce Korean names, so my family has legal western names, too.”
“Cool! Eh, Rachel’s a pretty name.”
“So’s Cloe,” she returned. “It’s nice to meet you face to face.”
Cloe nodded with a beaming smile. “Thanks! So, umm, I just popped in to grab my laptop charger. I, uh, got all the way to English 1010 before realizing I forgot it! Stupid, right? Umm, by the way, you’re pretty tall compared to most Asian girls I’ve met—oh, that was so rude of me! I’m so sorry,” she muttered, talking faster than necessary. “I’m just a little nervous when meeting new people.”
Laughing, Rachel shook her head. “It’s fine. There aren’t many 176 cm Asian girls; I’ve heard it most my life.”
“Uh-hehe, metric… Umm, what’s that in feet?”
“Haha. Right, right—5'9" or so.”
“I see,” Cloe’s eyes shifted to her bedside desk. “Alright, well, I gotta head to class. Mind if we chat later?”
“That’s fine with me.”
“Great!” Grabbing her charger, Cloe stuffed it in her backpack and dashed out into the hallway with a wave, slamming the door behind her.
Sighing, Rachel leaned back again, running her hands through her hair. Kind of awkward, but whatever… I guess it’s a good time to finish some schoolwork a few weeks in advance since I have the time.
She glanced at the clock—11 A.M.—meaning if she started now, she’d have plenty of time to check out her old trainer’s new gym and get a membership, which was something she was excited about. Her mind trailed off once more to the cause of her dislodgement, it blew her mind why Alexa was so anti-fighting, considering how vocally aggressive she was.
Pulling her phone to glare at her lock screen—her high school graduation two years earlier—Rachel centered on her parents’ smiling faces.
Alexa’s a total bum—not driven at all—the complete opposite of us… So, how can they get along with someone so lazy? It doesn’t make sense. Alexa’s such a loser—I can’t even call her my sister-in-law—we have nothing in common. What does she even do, locked in Nam’s room all day?
Angrily scratching her left temple, Rachel pushed herself up with a growl, massaged her neck, and got to work unpacking.
She didn’t need a lot of clothes—as much as her mother tried to get her to go out shopping every other week. Rachel valued practicality more than most; after setting up a few household goods and making her bed, she was done.
Rachel wanted to support herself if she was going to be on her own, so she’d applied for a part-time job at a café since the tips there were supposed to be good; that would start late next week.
Yawning while breaking down the last cardboard box, she put it on top of the others before pulling out her laptop, quickly indulging in a light stretch to get her blood circulating.
Sitting down, she logged into the school network and completed a few of her future assignments; she finished sooner than anticipated and looked at the top right corner of her screen with a smile.
4:20… I’ve got a long evening at the gym today!
She donned cream shorts, a black sports bra, and a white tank top before grabbing her gym bag and walking out of her dorm room. Moving down the halls, she met the bright Miami sun outside the building, happy to feel the hot, humid weather, mixed with the salty sea breeze of the ocean city.
The walk through the massive crowds of tourists and locals was therapeutic; Miami was host to a plethora of active people—her kind of people—which helped brighten her spirits, and seeing all the toned muscles made her aware of her own impressive physique.
She’d worked hard to get her solid form, which probably was the cause of Cloe feeling a bit intimidated upon meeting her in person, and she could see Alexa being the same; sure, the blonde woman wasn’t too fat or skinny, but she wasn’t exactly toned, much less muscular.
Arriving at the Muay Thai gym that was her destination, Rachel couldn’t help a smile; Tyreese Cyrus could be seen inside—her former coach back home that moved to Miami last year—and she eagerly went inside to sign up.
The 190 cm Jamaican man spotted her soon after she arrived at the counter, shouting out to her in his thick accent. “Aye, weh yuh ah seh, Rachel?! Girl, you lookin’ good before getting all sweaty, eh? Hehe. How much time I gotcha for in da city?”
[i.e., weh yuh ah seh - How are you doing?]
Toothy grin showing her mood, Rachel jabbed a thumb at his woman preparing a membership card. “Rock! Yo, I’m staying in Miami now, so you’ll see me a few times a week. I think I got a good three hours with you today.”
Tyreese’s dark skin almost shined; he waxed everything, including his head. At 118 kg, with rock-hard muscles, more than one person had made a joke about the link with his nickname.
“Whew, quite da session for meh little duppy conqueror, eh? You done hittin’ dem books and ready for da bag? Den go wrap up and ready to mash dem paws!”
[i.e., duppy conqueror - ‘ghost conqueror’ implying a fearless person overcoming obstacles.]
Rachel gave him a smirk as they walked up to each other, clasping hands. “Was hoping for some sparring today!” she pressed, hoping he could free up the time and trying not to lose face as he applied more pressure, curving their arms the opposite way.
“Ah, feelin’ some blood in your ears, huh? Yeah, we can get down and scrappy! You need to work on that combo, eh? Still not got ‘er down?” he laughed, breaking away to fake a few punches as she flexed her numb fingers.
“You know I’ve got it down,” Rachel snickered, giving her former coach a smirk. “Got something new?”
“Okay, okay,” he mused. “I’ll show you the whapper!” he said while doing a quick left fake to right kidney shot. “Give you the ol’ burn, eh? Take you back to some string combos before the teep!”
Rock had trained in Thailand for five years before returning to the States, and she’d been with him since she was thirteen.
Breaking away as he went to help a few of his in-training coaches, she went to the back to wrap her hands and put her stuff in a locker before beginning her conditioning and training session with him; she was so out of practice since he’d left.
Rachel laughed at her coach’s jabbing comments to break her concentration, bringing back memories; it was fun to see what he’d come up with to make her frustrated while trying to dish it back and stay focused.
“You get pistol-whipped in the mouth every mornin’? Small up yuhself!”
[i.e., small up yuhself - make some room or get some distance]
“Oh, I don’t know; sometimes it’s hard to see when I step back,” Rachel chuckled, dodging a few testing jabs. “Do you have a pound of baby oil on your head, ugly ass?”
His chest shook at the return. “Yeah? Haha! Better than the egg yolk you put in your head every morning. Eh?”
“Better yet,” Rachel took sharp breaths while ducking under a swing, giving a strike to his side, but she was forced to retreat as he threw a back elbow. “I see they let you out early at the car wash today.”
“You sayin’ I’m washed up, huh?” he hummed, darting forward.
She winced as he followed a right and left fake with a light jab to her face; she managed to catch the shift in his posture just in time, blocking it with the back of her hands as he threw his much greater weight class at her.
“Ya better focus; any worse and you’ll be tongue-licking uppercuts, mi girl!”
“At least I didn’t chip my tooth, licking a crosswalk button!”
“I did do that!” he mused, allowing her room to try for another offensive.
After training for three hours, she finally hit the showers, breathing heavily with sweat running down her body. She leaned left and right, letting the cool water slide down her smooth skin as her muscles burned; sessions like this were the highlight of her week.
Since eighth grade, she'd been training in Muay Thai, trying to release the stress she felt at home. Her parents were semi-traditional, second-generation Korean immigrants, and she loved them a lot, but many people didn’t understand their culture. Everything was measured, and she loved having challenging expectations to overcome.
It was this that made her so frustrated with her supposed sister-in-law. She was a NEET—not in education, employment, or training—and Rachel couldn’t understand how her family accepted that.
Her mother and father were a part of a consensually arranged marriage that initially came with some troubles; she knew they had their fights in private, but they loved each other, and, while the business did play a role in their relationship at the start, it had grown beyond that so far as she could see.
Drying off before dressing in the white t-shirt and shorts she’d brought in her bag, Rachel left the gym to move along the busy sidewalk, mind returning to the fight they had.
They’re proud I work hard, and Nam’s helped expand the business further after marrying Alexa, but how could he marry that stupid snowflake? She has no clue how the world works or how to commit to anything—and how can anyone hate martial arts?! She has to be jealous of me, or…
A low rumble reverberated in her throat just thinking about the obnoxious 21-year-old woman.
She thinks she’s so much better than me because her dad gives her whatever she wants, and she doesn’t have to work for it. Americans… look at me—I’m amazing because I’m a Vegan. Oh, and martial arts are violent; therefore, I’m violent.
That’s right, Rachel, you’re a taller than ‘normal’ Asian; let’s not forget you’re so odd and too muscular for a woman. Well, sorry, Princess, I didn’t ask to be born taller than you, and it feels good being in shape. Deal!
Fuming, Rachel took a deep breath while stretching out her arms.
Whatever, it’s not like Mom’s super on board with her staying in her room all the time, and she usually disappears to take a bath whenever Alexa’s around, so obviously she doesn’t want to deal with the brat. She’s just a business deal since she likes Nam, and it would benefit the company. That has to be it because Nam can’t possibly like her.
Massaging the back of her neck with both hands, she stopped at a light as it turned green, shifting the bag on her shoulder.
Once I finish school and get a law degree, then what can she say? She’s worthless; all she has is her rich dad while I’ll be working for a big firm.
Rachel jogged to a local diner and ordered her usual, spiced salmon and vegetables; the food was just as good as always. Eating quickly, she left a 20% tip before leaving to grab a superfood smoothie to go. She walked the rest of the way back to her dorm, finding Cloe in bed with her laptop.
“Oh, Rachel. Wait, did you go work out? Do you do that often?” she asked, sitting a little straighter against the wall.
Setting her bag down, Rachel shrugged while doing more stretches, feeling her sports bra tighten against her chest. “I practice Muay Thai in my free time.”
“Really? That’s so awesome!” She set her laptop beside her, scooting to the edge of the bed. “You look fit—like really fit! I was thinking about doing something like that since I’ve been gaining a little weight recently,” she grumbled, poking at her belly.
Smiling, Rachel pulled out her desk chair to sit; this was a better conversation. “You could just...” she trailed off as a scream sounded down the hall.
All of a sudden, an inexplicable reverberation pulsed through her entire body, rebounding within her for several seconds before everything changed.
In a split second, the room had expanded; she could see everything in focus within a 210° degree angle, and the neon glow of lights shining from the window in the corner snatched her focus with Cloe in front of her—everything was visible in crystal clarity.
Her hearing opened like she’d been submerged underwater all her life as something similar to her arms instantaneously appeared atop her head; millions of sounds and conversations fed through her brain, and—somehow—she knew they were hundreds of meters away, yet it wasn’t overwhelming.
She gave a start, realizing a new, small appendage had formed near her butt; it was like her entire body was fluid, shifting into something else, and a new strength that she’d never dreamt of arose within her muscles, exploding into a power that made her more alive than she thought possible.
Half her weight vanished, leaving her scared she’d float away, and her flexibility seemed to double; she’d never felt so light.
Cloe’s face turned ashen. “What was that—what’s… happening to you?” she gasped.
Looking down, Rachel’s throat constricted; her hair had changed. “I have… white hair—it’s so long? What—how—what happened to my black hair?”
Her focus shifted from her illuminated locks to her fingers, sliding them down her left arm. “My muscles … why—they’re gone…”
Shaking her head, Cloe covered her mouth, pointing at her dresser mirror.
Rachel turned, seeing her reflection before facing it; her lips parted in disbelief.
On closer inspection, her hair was a glowing, alabaster shade, surrounded by a light-pink hue that mixed with the beams of colorful mixed rays shining through the nearby window, and her once shoulder-length, black hair had grown, falling to her butt and was thick—insanely thick—causing her elastic hair tie to bulge.
Her eyes were no longer brown, and it was hard for her to even conceptualize what she was now staring into.
Rachel’s enlarged pupils were surrounded by four, faint-pink petals, resembling a four-leaf clover; the black of her eye had turned maroon-red and was almost entirely eclipsed by a pink glow in the center. A white, radiant halo surrounded the pupil's outer ring, separating it from the other sections of her irises in an eclipse.
However, the most pressing change was the two long bunny ears attached to her skull. She pulled back her pink-hued, white hair, searching for her normal ears in vain; the only thing that met her fingers was her skin and thick, silky locks, hiding the fact that her human ears were gone.
Swallowing reflexively, she realized she could feel them like her own fingers; they twitched, shifting with the same unconscious desire as her arms.
Feeling the slight discomfort at her butt, Rachel turned to see a bulge in her gym shorts. Upon pulling them back, she stared at the puffy white tail. It wasn’t a solid bone by its flexible range of motion; the tail likely had quite a few joins. Sensitive to the touch, her entirely reshaped skull was evidence enough that something insane had happened to her biology.
“What’s—going on?” she muttered, bunny ears tensing as she heard multiple conversations around them that alarmed her.
“Did you feel that?”
“What was that feeling?”
“I’m on fire!”
“I… have a cat tail?”
“Yo—uh, what happened to my arms?”
“Dude! You got wings, man?”
“What are you?”
“Do you see that light?”
“The sky… cracked—am I dreaming?”
Rachel flinched as she heard gunshots in the distance, and panic in people’s voices escalating around her about monsters or yelling for help against aliens invading the planet; more shots followed from police or citizens. Sirens started blaring everywhere as reports flew in.
Rachel ran to the window and looked up into the sky, Cloe hesitating before joining her.
There were massive rifts in space across the atmosphere; uncountable cracks opened and closed as the heavens rippled, each one a different hue.
The sky was fracturing and repairing itself hundreds of times in the span of seconds; lights radiated through the fissures, but the strange detail was how she could see everything at once, and the stars shone through the phenomenon.
“I don’t understand,” Cloe whispered, dancing back before looking at her with fright. “You’re changing like—you went from normal t-to a bunny-like—like a dozen times. Now you—wait… it’s not changing anymore, and the lights… Are aliens attacking us—are you an alien?!”
Rachel shook her head. “No! I—I don’t know what’s happening either. The sky—it’s normal now.”
Only seconds after she saw it, the event passed, leaving the normal, black sky to take its place as the light pollution obscured the heavens and the reverberations within her ceased.
“The sky—it was breaking—bright colors were coming through the cracks...”
Cloe turned back to her laptop as she heard the screams, sirens, and shouts around her. “Umm—let me see if I can find anyone talking about it. Uh,” she gave her a forced smile, “you’re not playing with me, right—this isn’t a joke?”
Rachel gave her an incredulous look, gesturing to the window. “How would I pull something like that off?”
“I-I don’t know,” she whispered, head ducking to search some sites online. “Here are some live streams… Ugh, they’re inside—they don’t have a clue what’s going on. One second…”
Rachel walked over to watch the screen, still examining herself in the mirror; to describe herself as unique would be an understatement, and even her proportions had changed—in a good way, some would say—but changed nonetheless.
What the hell happened to me?
Rachel set the last cardboard box on her dorm room bed; taking a deep breath, she sat down, sullenly looking over at Cloe’s—her new roommate—side of the room. It was bright and colorful, reflecting her bubbly personality.
They’d talked online earlier that week; Cloe’s previous roommate dropped out of the University of Miami, leaving an opening for her. Rachel had mostly done all her classes online at home before this, but things had changed.
Taking out her cell phone, she unlocked it, opened her voicemail, and listened to her father’s message in Korean:
“Sung-Hyo, I know this is challenging, and you haven’t lived on your own before, but we both know Alexa and you aren’t going to see eye to eye; the constant fighting has been taxing on everyone—though I know it isn’t all your fault.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. Not ‘all’ my fault… She’s the one that always has to say something; I’m not going to just let it slide. How can Nam stand her?! I get her dad’s a huge contributor to the company—she’s totally the opposite of our family, though.
An agitated growl rumbled in her throat as her father’s message continued.
“Your mother and I couldn’t be prouder of the strides you’ve taken in your martial arts and academic studies—hehe, your grandfather loves to hear about your achievements every time we speak—and, that being said, maybe it is time for you to find something more outside of the family.”
Mom’s suggestion, no doubt, Rachel internally sighed. I’m too busy for a social life… First, university credits while in school weren’t enough, and now they want me to socialize!?
“In any case, we love you, and I know you’ll continue growing in Miami. Of course, heh, your mother will want you back at least a few times a month—it’s only a three-hour drive—and we both know she’d squeal at the opportunity to spend time with you in Miami. We’ll talk later.”
Breathing in deeply, she let it out in a large, slow sigh. “Huu-haaa…”
She fell back on the unmade mattress—far less comfortable than her one at home—and pulled her shoulder-length, black hair to the side; it was March 26th—Saturday—and in two days, it would be the start of her junior year of college at 19-years-old.
If she pushed a little harder, she’d have her bachelor’s in legal studies by the end of summer, which was what she planned; there were benefits to being on campus, but her issue was the circumstances surrounding it.
Her full lips tightened as Cloe walked through the door, her roommate’s green eyes lighting up as she saw her with all the boxes stacked neatly on the floor.
“Rachel! Oh, wait, should I call you Rachel or, umm—Park Sung-Hyo?” she tentatively asked, butchering her Korean name while reading a small piece of paper that hung on the door.
“Eh-yeah, Rachel is fine. It’s hard for most Americans to pronounce Korean names, so my family has legal western names, too.”
“Cool! Eh, Rachel’s a pretty name.”
“So’s Cloe,” she returned. “It’s nice to meet you face to face.”
Cloe nodded with a beaming smile. “Thanks! So, umm, I just popped in to grab my laptop charger. I, uh, got all the way to English 1010 before realizing I forgot it! Stupid, right? Umm, by the way, you’re pretty tall compared to most Asian girls I’ve met—oh, that was so rude of me! I’m so sorry,” she muttered, talking faster than necessary. “I’m just a little nervous when meeting new people.”
Laughing, Rachel shook her head. “It’s fine. There aren’t many 176 cm Asian girls; I’ve heard it most my life.”
“Uh-hehe, metric… Umm, what’s that in feet?”
“Haha. Right, right—5'9" or so.”
“I see,” Cloe’s eyes shifted to her bedside desk. “Alright, well, I gotta head to class. Mind if we chat later?”
“That’s fine with me.”
“Great!” Grabbing her charger, Cloe stuffed it in her backpack and dashed out into the hallway with a wave, slamming the door behind her.
Sighing, Rachel leaned back again, running her hands through her hair. Kind of awkward, but whatever… I guess it’s a good time to finish some schoolwork a few weeks in advance since I have the time.
She glanced at the clock—11 A.M.—meaning if she started now, she’d have plenty of time to check out her old trainer’s new gym and get a membership, which was something she was excited about. Her mind trailed off once more to the cause of her dislodgement, it blew her mind why Alexa was so anti-fighting, considering how vocally aggressive she was.
Pulling her phone to glare at her lock screen—her high school graduation two years earlier—Rachel centered on her parents’ smiling faces.
Alexa’s a total bum—not driven at all—the complete opposite of us… So, how can they get along with someone so lazy? It doesn’t make sense. Alexa’s such a loser—I can’t even call her my sister-in-law—we have nothing in common. What does she even do, locked in Nam’s room all day?
Angrily scratching her left temple, Rachel pushed herself up with a growl, massaged her neck, and got to work unpacking.
She didn’t need a lot of clothes—as much as her mother tried to get her to go out shopping every other week. Rachel valued practicality more than most; after setting up a few household goods and making her bed, she was done.
Rachel wanted to support herself if she was going to be on her own, so she’d applied for a part-time job at a café since the tips there were supposed to be good; that would start late next week.
Yawning while breaking down the last cardboard box, she put it on top of the others before pulling out her laptop, quickly indulging in a light stretch to get her blood circulating.
Sitting down, she logged into the school network and completed a few of her future assignments; she finished sooner than anticipated and looked at the top right corner of her screen with a smile.
4:20… I’ve got a long evening at the gym today!
She donned cream shorts, a black sports bra, and a white tank top before grabbing her gym bag and walking out of her dorm room. Moving down the halls, she met the bright Miami sun outside the building, happy to feel the hot, humid weather, mixed with the salty sea breeze of the ocean city.
The walk through the massive crowds of tourists and locals was therapeutic; Miami was host to a plethora of active people—her kind of people—which helped brighten her spirits, and seeing all the toned muscles made her aware of her own impressive physique.
She’d worked hard to get her solid form, which probably was the cause of Cloe feeling a bit intimidated upon meeting her in person, and she could see Alexa being the same; sure, the blonde woman wasn’t too fat or skinny, but she wasn’t exactly toned, much less muscular.
Arriving at the Muay Thai gym that was her destination, Rachel couldn’t help a smile; Tyreese Cyrus could be seen inside—her former coach back home that moved to Miami last year—and she eagerly went inside to sign up.
The 190 cm Jamaican man spotted her soon after she arrived at the counter, shouting out to her in his thick accent. “Aye, weh yuh ah seh, Rachel?! Girl, you lookin’ good before getting all sweaty, eh? Hehe. How much time I gotcha for in da city?”
[i.e., weh yuh ah seh - How are you doing?]
Toothy grin showing her mood, Rachel jabbed a thumb at his woman preparing a membership card. “Rock! Yo, I’m staying in Miami now, so you’ll see me a few times a week. I think I got a good three hours with you today.”
Tyreese’s dark skin almost shined; he waxed everything, including his head. At 118 kg, with rock-hard muscles, more than one person had made a joke about the link with his nickname.
“Whew, quite da session for meh little duppy conqueror, eh? You done hittin’ dem books and ready for da bag? Den go wrap up and ready to mash dem paws!”
[i.e., duppy conqueror - ‘ghost conqueror’ implying a fearless person overcoming obstacles.]
Rachel gave him a smirk as they walked up to each other, clasping hands. “Was hoping for some sparring today!” she pressed, hoping he could free up the time and trying not to lose face as he applied more pressure, curving their arms the opposite way.
“Ah, feelin’ some blood in your ears, huh? Yeah, we can get down and scrappy! You need to work on that combo, eh? Still not got ‘er down?” he laughed, breaking away to fake a few punches as she flexed her numb fingers.
“You know I’ve got it down,” Rachel snickered, giving her former coach a smirk. “Got something new?”
“Okay, okay,” he mused. “I’ll show you the whapper!” he said while doing a quick left fake to right kidney shot. “Give you the ol’ burn, eh? Take you back to some string combos before the teep!”
Rock had trained in Thailand for five years before returning to the States, and she’d been with him since she was thirteen.
Breaking away as he went to help a few of his in-training coaches, she went to the back to wrap her hands and put her stuff in a locker before beginning her conditioning and training session with him; she was so out of practice since he’d left.
Rachel laughed at her coach’s jabbing comments to break her concentration, bringing back memories; it was fun to see what he’d come up with to make her frustrated while trying to dish it back and stay focused.
“You get pistol-whipped in the mouth every mornin’? Small up yuhself!”
[i.e., small up yuhself - make some room or get some distance]
“Oh, I don’t know; sometimes it’s hard to see when I step back,” Rachel chuckled, dodging a few testing jabs. “Do you have a pound of baby oil on your head, ugly ass?”
His chest shook at the return. “Yeah? Haha! Better than the egg yolk you put in your head every morning. Eh?”
“Better yet,” Rachel took sharp breaths while ducking under a swing, giving a strike to his side, but she was forced to retreat as he threw a back elbow. “I see they let you out early at the car wash today.”
“You sayin’ I’m washed up, huh?” he hummed, darting forward.
She winced as he followed a right and left fake with a light jab to her face; she managed to catch the shift in his posture just in time, blocking it with the back of her hands as he threw his much greater weight class at her.
“Ya better focus; any worse and you’ll be tongue-licking uppercuts, mi girl!”
“At least I didn’t chip my tooth, licking a crosswalk button!”
“I did do that!” he mused, allowing her room to try for another offensive.
After training for three hours, she finally hit the showers, breathing heavily with sweat running down her body. She leaned left and right, letting the cool water slide down her smooth skin as her muscles burned; sessions like this were the highlight of her week.
Since eighth grade, she'd been training in Muay Thai, trying to release the stress she felt at home. Her parents were semi-traditional, second-generation Korean immigrants, and she loved them a lot, but many people didn’t understand their culture. Everything was measured, and she loved having challenging expectations to overcome.
It was this that made her so frustrated with her supposed sister-in-law. She was a NEET—not in education, employment, or training—and Rachel couldn’t understand how her family accepted that.
Her mother and father were a part of a consensually arranged marriage that initially came with some troubles; she knew they had their fights in private, but they loved each other, and, while the business did play a role in their relationship at the start, it had grown beyond that so far as she could see.
Drying off before dressing in the white t-shirt and shorts she’d brought in her bag, Rachel left the gym to move along the busy sidewalk, mind returning to the fight they had.
They’re proud I work hard, and Nam’s helped expand the business further after marrying Alexa, but how could he marry that stupid snowflake? She has no clue how the world works or how to commit to anything—and how can anyone hate martial arts?! She has to be jealous of me, or…
A low rumble reverberated in her throat just thinking about the obnoxious 21-year-old woman.
She thinks she’s so much better than me because her dad gives her whatever she wants, and she doesn’t have to work for it. Americans… look at me—I’m amazing because I’m a Vegan. Oh, and martial arts are violent; therefore, I’m violent.
That’s right, Rachel, you’re a taller than ‘normal’ Asian; let’s not forget you’re so odd and too muscular for a woman. Well, sorry, Princess, I didn’t ask to be born taller than you, and it feels good being in shape. Deal!
Fuming, Rachel took a deep breath while stretching out her arms.
Whatever, it’s not like Mom’s super on board with her staying in her room all the time, and she usually disappears to take a bath whenever Alexa’s around, so obviously she doesn’t want to deal with the brat. She’s just a business deal since she likes Nam, and it would benefit the company. That has to be it because Nam can’t possibly like her.
Massaging the back of her neck with both hands, she stopped at a light as it turned green, shifting the bag on her shoulder.
Once I finish school and get a law degree, then what can she say? She’s worthless; all she has is her rich dad while I’ll be working for a big firm.
Rachel jogged to a local diner and ordered her usual, spiced salmon and vegetables; the food was just as good as always. Eating quickly, she left a 20% tip before leaving to grab a superfood smoothie to go. She walked the rest of the way back to her dorm, finding Cloe in bed with her laptop.
“Oh, Rachel. Wait, did you go work out? Do you do that often?” she asked, sitting a little straighter against the wall.
Setting her bag down, Rachel shrugged while doing more stretches, feeling her sports bra tighten against her chest. “I practice Muay Thai in my free time.”
“Really? That’s so awesome!” She set her laptop beside her, scooting to the edge of the bed. “You look fit—like really fit! I was thinking about doing something like that since I’ve been gaining a little weight recently,” she grumbled, poking at her belly.
Smiling, Rachel pulled out her desk chair to sit; this was a better conversation. “You could just...” she trailed off as a scream sounded down the hall.
All of a sudden, an inexplicable reverberation pulsed through her entire body, rebounding within her for several seconds before everything changed.
In a split second, the room had expanded; she could see everything in focus within a 210° degree angle, and the neon glow of lights shining from the window in the corner snatched her focus with Cloe in front of her—everything was visible in crystal clarity.
Her hearing opened like she’d been submerged underwater all her life as something similar to her arms instantaneously appeared atop her head; millions of sounds and conversations fed through her brain, and—somehow—she knew they were hundreds of meters away, yet it wasn’t overwhelming.
She gave a start, realizing a new, small appendage had formed near her butt; it was like her entire body was fluid, shifting into something else, and a new strength that she’d never dreamt of arose within her muscles, exploding into a power that made her more alive than she thought possible.
Half her weight vanished, leaving her scared she’d float away, and her flexibility seemed to double; she’d never felt so light.
Cloe’s face turned ashen. “What was that—what’s… happening to you?” she gasped.
Looking down, Rachel’s throat constricted; her hair had changed. “I have… white hair—it’s so long? What—how—what happened to my black hair?”
Her focus shifted from her illuminated locks to her fingers, sliding them down her left arm. “My muscles … why—they’re gone…”
Shaking her head, Cloe covered her mouth, pointing at her dresser mirror.
Rachel turned, seeing her reflection before facing it; her lips parted in disbelief.
On closer inspection, her hair was a glowing, alabaster shade, surrounded by a light-pink hue that mixed with the beams of colorful mixed rays shining through the nearby window, and her once shoulder-length, black hair had grown, falling to her butt and was thick—insanely thick—causing her elastic hair tie to bulge.
Her eyes were no longer brown, and it was hard for her to even conceptualize what she was now staring into.
Rachel’s enlarged pupils were surrounded by four, faint-pink petals, resembling a four-leaf clover; the black of her eye had turned maroon-red and was almost entirely eclipsed by a pink glow in the center. A white, radiant halo surrounded the pupil's outer ring, separating it from the other sections of her irises in an eclipse.
However, the most pressing change was the two long bunny ears attached to her skull. She pulled back her pink-hued, white hair, searching for her normal ears in vain; the only thing that met her fingers was her skin and thick, silky locks, hiding the fact that her human ears were gone.
Swallowing reflexively, she realized she could feel them like her own fingers; they twitched, shifting with the same unconscious desire as her arms.
Feeling the slight discomfort at her butt, Rachel turned to see a bulge in her gym shorts. Upon pulling them back, she stared at the puffy white tail. It wasn’t a solid bone by its flexible range of motion; the tail likely had quite a few joins. Sensitive to the touch, her entirely reshaped skull was evidence enough that something insane had happened to her biology.
“What’s—going on?” she muttered, bunny ears tensing as she heard multiple conversations around them that alarmed her.
“Did you feel that?”
“What was that feeling?”
“I’m on fire!”
“I… have a cat tail?”
“Yo—uh, what happened to my arms?”
“Dude! You got wings, man?”
“What are you?”
“Do you see that light?”
“The sky… cracked—am I dreaming?”
Rachel flinched as she heard gunshots in the distance, and panic in people’s voices escalating around her about monsters or yelling for help against aliens invading the planet; more shots followed from police or citizens. Sirens started blaring everywhere as reports flew in.
Rachel ran to the window and looked up into the sky, Cloe hesitating before joining her.
There were massive rifts in space across the atmosphere; uncountable cracks opened and closed as the heavens rippled, each one a different hue.
The sky was fracturing and repairing itself hundreds of times in the span of seconds; lights radiated through the fissures, but the strange detail was how she could see everything at once, and the stars shone through the phenomenon.
“I don’t understand,” Cloe whispered, dancing back before looking at her with fright. “You’re changing like—you went from normal t-to a bunny-like—like a dozen times. Now you—wait… it’s not changing anymore, and the lights… Are aliens attacking us—are you an alien?!”
Rachel shook her head. “No! I—I don’t know what’s happening either. The sky—it’s normal now.”
Only seconds after she saw it, the event passed, leaving the normal, black sky to take its place as the light pollution obscured the heavens and the reverberations within her ceased.
“The sky—it was breaking—bright colors were coming through the cracks...”
Cloe turned back to her laptop as she heard the screams, sirens, and shouts around her. “Umm—let me see if I can find anyone talking about it. Uh,” she gave her a forced smile, “you’re not playing with me, right—this isn’t a joke?”
Rachel gave her an incredulous look, gesturing to the window. “How would I pull something like that off?”
“I-I don’t know,” she whispered, head ducking to search some sites online. “Here are some live streams… Ugh, they’re inside—they don’t have a clue what’s going on. One second…”
Rachel walked over to watch the screen, still examining herself in the mirror; to describe herself as unique would be an understatement, and even her proportions had changed—in a good way, some would say—but changed nonetheless.
What the hell happened to me?
