"Senior, what were you saying just now?"
Sam seemed not to have heard clearly, as Isabella's voice was very soft and was drowned out by the howling wind.
It wasn't clear.
Isabella smiled suddenly.
"Nothing much, by the way... how did they react?"
Sam thought for a moment, then shook his head.
"There wasn't any particular reaction."
Isabella chuckled, "Indeed, they wouldn't think their superpowers are inferior to others. They are girls who don't like to bow down, after all. That's youth for you."
Isabella expressed such a sentiment, but Sam quickly asked, "Is that so? Then what exactly is youth?"
Sam asked this perennial question of adolescence, which might be understood with age, but some people might never recall what their youth was really like—its color, its form.
Isabella tilted her head slightly, smiling at Sam.
