My roommate Sophie loves borrowing things from me. Today it's dance shoes, tomorrow it's knee pads. But ever since she started borrowing from me, my body has gotten stiffer day by day. I can't do splits anymore, I lose my balance during turns, and my knees buckle when I land jumps. Meanwhile, she's gone from being a transfer student who couldn't even pass basic technique to becoming Mrs. Foster's handpicked candidate for the arts program entrance exam. Mrs. Foster grows more disappointed in me each day while valuing Sophie more and more. She constantly compares the two of us, and I'm always the one getting sighs and head shakes. Even my boyfriend Ethan has started looking down on me, getting closer and closer to her. After yet another skills assessment where I ranked dead last while Sophie came in first in the whole class, I stumbled upon Ethan in the stairwell with his arm around her waist. I rushed forward to confront them, only to hear words that turned my blood to ice. "Her talent is all mine now. Just one more borrowing and she'll be completely useless. Then we can be together forever." So that's the truth. I confronted them, and Sophie and Ethan pushed me down the stairs together. They told everyone I'd jumped because I couldn't handle my failing grades. I died wrongfully. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day Sophie first borrowed my dance shoes. You love borrowing things? Then I'll make sure you get what you deserve.
I hadn't even recovered from the shock of being reborn when I saw Sophie holding a pair of my pointe shoes. In my past life, it all started with these shoes—the first step toward my destruction. Without thinking, I snatched the shoes from Sophie's hands. "I can't lend you these shoes." Sophie froze, not expecting this reaction from me. I'd always been generous—if other students forgot knee pads or resistance bands, I'd always help out. She tugged at her ponytail, and her eyes immediately turned red as she looked at me with wounded expression. "Emma, you're usually so generous. Is it because I'm a transfer student that you look down on me? You won't even lend me a pair of dance shoes?" That's when Ethan appeared, looking at me accusingly. "Emma, how can you discriminate against Sophie just because she transferred in halfway? You won't even lend her dance shoes?" The other students in the practice room heard the commotion and gathered around, sizing us up. Lily stood beside me with her arms crossed, glanced at Sophie, and said nothing. Jessica poked her head out of the dressing room, touching her earring with an expression that said she was enjoying the drama. "Emma's usually pretty cool about stuff like this. There must be some misunderstanding, right?" "Yeah, last week when Sophie forgot her water bottle, Emma was the one who gave her hers." "Yesterday morning I saw Emma bringing Sophie breakfast." Hearing these words, Sophie's face flushed with embarrassment, and tears began streaming down her face. She just kept crying, unable to say a word. Ethan stepped forward and grabbed the pointe shoes from my hand. "They're just shoes. You're being so petty, Emma." He shoved the shoes into Sophie's hands. "Sophie, just take them and wear them." Sophie held the shoes and looked at me with an exaggerated show of reluctance. "Emma, can I please just borrow these shoes for two days?" I didn't agree right away. My tone was flat when I spoke. "These pointe shoes were custom handmade for me by my grandmother's special order from Master Bennett. Everything from the materials to the last was made according to my foot shape. The labor alone cost thirty thousand dollars." As soon as I finished speaking, the practice room went silent for two seconds. Jessica instinctively pulled out her phone to check prices, scrolled twice, then put it down. A girl in the front row clicked her tongue. "Thirty thousand dollar pointe shoes? That's more than my living expenses for an entire year." Another girl beside her muttered quietly. "She really knows how to pick them. Goes straight for the most expensive pair." Sophie's fingers unconsciously picked at the shoe's surface, her face turning red and white by turns. "I didn't know these shoes were so expensive. If you think I'm not worthy of borrowing such expensive shoes, then I'll give them back. But could you maybe—" Before she could finish, I snatched the shoes back. I knew she wanted to borrow something else, so I cut her off directly. "Sorry, I don't have any extra dance shoes to lend you today. There are so many other students in the class—why don't you ask them?" She stood there stunned, my words blocking her. Ethan's expression darkened, and just as he was about to speak, I interrupted him again. "Ethan, since you care so much about Sophie, you have at least three spare pairs of shoes in your locker. Why can't you lend her one?" "Or does Sophie only want to borrow my shoes?" Panic flashed across Sophie's face. She tugged at her ponytail and quickly shook her head. "It's not like that. I just thought since we're roommates, I'd ask you first." I nodded. "I know. That's why I want to ask you a question too." My gaze fell on the ankle support visible at Sophie's ankle. It was a custom piece with a silver clasp, engraved with a small "E." That was the birthday gift I'd given Ethan last month. "Ethan, since you treasure the things I give you so much, why is the ankle support I gave you on Sophie's foot?"
Sophie looked down at her ankle and tried to pull her pants down to cover it, but it was too late. Her words came tumbling out faster. "I, it's just that, no, Ethan just felt bad that I didn't have good ankle support, so he lent me his to protect my feet. It's not what you think." Lily beside me stretched lazily and spoke in a conversational tone. "Well, I don't have good ankle support either. How come nobody feels bad for me?" Jessica, who'd been watching from the sidelines, chimed in. "The ankle support I'm wearing is two-year-old hand-me-down, and I haven't seen anyone giving me the good stuff with names engraved on it." Ethan's face couldn't take it anymore. He glared at me angrily. "That's enough, Emma. Are you deliberately targeting her just because I've been taking care of Sophie a bit more? I only care about her as a classmate. Don't let your jealousy hurt innocent people." Even now he's still blaming me. It was the same in my past life—everything was always my fault. "Which eye saw me targeting Sophie? If anything, you're the one who can lend out ankle support with my name on it but can't spare a pair of shoes. They're both things I gave you—how come you're playing favorites?" My words left him opening and closing his mouth, his fists clenched, unsure whether to keep them raised or drop them. Ethan tugged at his collar and forced out a smile. "Stop making a scene. You're not yourself today. Go back and get some rest." Just then, I heard a voice. It was like it came from far away, with a metallic mechanical quality. "Host, we just completed binding today. If you accept items from Ethan, from this day forward you can only borrow his fate." Sophie's expression changed drastically. She pushed away Ethan's hand. "I don't want to borrow your things. I just remembered I have a spare pair of shoes in my bag." She turned and ran toward the dressing room. That voice—was it the system Sophie had bound with in my past life? I could actually hear it speaking. I lowered my head and pretended to organize my shoe bag while my mind raced. So there was such a rule. No wonder in my past life Sophie only targeted me. Later when other classmates voluntarily offered her things, she wasn't happy about it. Turns out she could only bind to one target. I remember in my past life she said more than once how she envied me—said I had a good family, good talent, a handsome boyfriend, and teachers who liked me. She even said how nice it would be if she could be me. Turns out she really meant to become me. Lily came over and whispered. "Did you take the wrong medicine today? How come you're suddenly so tough?" I didn't answer because that metallic voice spoke again. "Host, the binding window is only forty-eight hours. If she won't lend to you, you can choose to bind someone else. But I must inform you—only by binding someone whose fate is better than yours can you borrow their good fortune. If you bind someone whose fate is worse than yours, their bad fortune will transfer to you." "I don't want anyone else's fate. I only want Emma's." Sophie said this quietly in the dressing room. Through the thin wall, I heard it crystal clear. Not heard her voice—heard the system repeating her choice. So she only had forty-eight hours. Tomorrow, she would definitely come looking to borrow from me again. What should I do? I couldn't keep avoiding her forever. I grabbed my shoe bag and walked out of the practice room, my mind turning over one thought again and again. The system said if she bound to someone whose fate was worse than hers, the bad fortune would transfer to Sophie. In other words, as long as what I lent her didn't belong to me but to someone whose fate was worse than hers, what Sophie would borrow wouldn't be good fortune but someone else's misfortune. The problem was, where would I find this "person with worse fate"?
I walked to the school gate where a girl in a school uniform blocked my path. She was holding a cardboard box with a printed photo taped to it. The photo showed a girl with a ponytail wearing dance clothes, smiling brightly. "Excuse me, Rachel from the dance team at Clearwater High next door was in a serious car accident. She's completely paralyzed now and can only lie in bed. We're raising donations for her. Could you contribute?" I stared at the girl's face in the photo. "What's her current condition?" The girl's eyes reddened. "The doctor said her spinal damage is too severe. She won't be able to stand for the rest of her life. She's only sixteen. Her fundamentals used to be the best on our team. Now forget dancing—she can't even get out of bed." "We're fundraising just to help her be more comfortable in the hospital." I said nothing and pulled out my phone to scan the QR code on the box, making a transfer. The girl looked at the amount and froze for a full five seconds. "You... you donated twenty thousand?" "Which hospital is she in?" "City Central Hospital, Rehabilitation Building, third floor." I made note of the address. I bought a basket of fruit and took a cab to the hospital. When I pushed open the hospital room door, Rachel was propped against the raised head of her bed reading an old textbook. From the neck down she was covered with a thin blanket, and the outline beneath it was frighteningly thin. She saw me enter and blinked. "Who are you here to see?" "You." I placed the fruit on her bedside table. "My name's Emma. I'm from the same city, studying dance at Greenwood Arts High. I heard about what happened to you, so I wanted to come see you." Rachel tried to sit up straighter. I quickly stepped forward to adjust her bed. "Thank you. You dance too?" "Yeah." She stared at me for a few seconds, then suddenly smiled. That smile was identical to the one in the photo, but her cheeks had hollowed out significantly. "I used to dance too. Not anymore. The teacher says it nicely—calls it 'temporary recovery.' Really it means I never have to come back." I glanced at the cabinet in the corner of the room. Old things were piled on top—yellowed resistance bands, worn knee pads, and a pair of old pointe shoes with a name written in marker on the surface. Rachel. "Are these all things you used before?" "Yeah. My mom wanted to throw them out but I wouldn't let her. They don't mean anything really, just keeping them for memories." I opened the bag of new dance supplies I'd bought from the school store and placed a complete set of brand-new stationery, workbooks, and wireless earbuds on her bedside table. "These are for you. Don't just lie around in the hospital doing nothing. Listen to some lessons, read some books." Rachel looked a bit embarrassed. "This is too expensive." "Keep them." I pointed to the cabinet in the corner. "You won't use those old things anymore. I'll help you get rid of them so you don't have to keep feeling sad looking at them." She hesitated, then nodded. "That's probably for the best. Seeing them there hurts every time. Go ahead and throw them away for me." I stuffed all of Rachel's old dance shoes, old resistance bands, and old knee pads into my backpack. Walking out of the hospital entrance, I pulled out those old pointe shoes to look at them. The soles were worn thin, the satin surface had sweat stains, and the ribbons showed curved creases from being tied in dead knots and untied. These were shoes worn by a girl who would never stand again. Sophie, this is the fate I've prepared for you. Early the next morning, as soon as I entered the practice room, Sophie caught up and grabbed my arm. "Emma, I'm sorry about yesterday. I already returned the ankle support to Ethan. Please don't be mad anymore, okay?" "Mm." Seeing my cold tone, she quickly changed her expression and rubbed her hands together awkwardly. "I forgot my dance shoes in the dorm today and there's no time to go back before fundamentals class. Could you lend me a pair?" Afraid I'd refuse, she sped up, adding urgently. "I don't need your expensive ones. I'll wear whatever you give me. Old ones are fine, worn-out ones are fine." I didn't refuse. I pulled out the old pointe shoes I'd taken from Rachel's hospital room yesterday and handed them to her. "Here. You don't need to return them." Sophie hadn't expected me to be so agreeable today. All her prepared words stuck in her throat. She stared at the old shoes for two seconds—the surface was somewhat worn, but the size was about right for her. I made to take them back. "If you think they're too old, forget it." She snatched them away and clutched them to her chest. "I don't mind. I just didn't expect you to be so generous. Thank you, Emma." Lily in the back row heard this and leaned back with her arms crossed, tilting her head at Sophie. "What do you mean 'didn't expect'? When has Emma not been generous? But you—yesterday people caught you wearing her boyfriend's ankle support, and today you have the nerve to come borrow shoes?" Sophie's face flushed. She waved her hands frantically. "That's not what I meant. Lily, don't misunderstand. She didn't lend me shoes yesterday, so I thought she wouldn't today either. I'm actually really grateful to Emma." Ethan saw me lend out the shoes and walked over, tugging at his collar, his face showing a kind of restrained excitement. He couldn't resist a sarcastic jab. "They're just old shoes. Was it really necessary to make such a big fuss yesterday?" I rolled my eyes at him.
The class bell rang. Mrs. Foster walked into the practice room, took attendance, then had everyone go to the barre for warm-ups. Sophie changed into those old dance shoes and stood in her position. That metallic voice rang out accordingly. "Congratulations, Host. Borrowing successful. This system has begun executing the fate transfer program. The target subject's advantages will gradually transfer to the Host, while the target subject will gradually have their luck drained until they become worthless." Sophie lowered her head, the corners of her mouth curling up slightly. She thought she was about to possess my life. In my past life, after she borrowed my things, I started feeling unwell that same day and got the simplest questions wrong in class. Today I paid special attention to my body. Leg stretches, leg lifts, floor work. I carefully felt each movement. No discomfort at all. On the contrary, during PE class when Sophie was running, her foot suddenly went soft and her knee hit the track. When the PE teacher helped her up, her right leg visibly trembled. After returning from the nurse's office, Sophie sat at her seat, stealing glances at me. "Emma, do you feel unwell today?" This was a test. I yawned and slumped on my desk, pretending to lack energy. "You noticed. I don't know what's wrong today. My body feels especially stiff. This morning when I was stretching, it felt like my bones were about to break." A hint of smugness crept into the corners of her mouth as she made a show of consoling me. "You must be exhausted from rehearsing so much lately. You'll feel better if you sleep early tonight." I hummed in agreement and continued slumping. During afternoon fundamentals class, I deliberately messed up a simple turn and was corrected on the spot by Mrs. Foster. She frowned and tapped the barre. "Emma, you've been in terrible form lately. You can't even stabilize a second position turn. How are you going to participate in next month's assessment?" I kept my head down and said nothing. From the corner of my eye, I saw Sophie's shoulders relax as she picked at her nail polish, unable to hide her smile. She thought everything was going according to plan. After school that evening, Sophie stopped me again. "Emma, my resistance band is worn out. It almost snapped during practice. Could you lend me one?" "Sure." I pulled out Rachel's old resistance band from my backpack and handed it over. "Here. You don't need to return it." I grabbed my backpack and walked out. Just as I left the practice room door, I heard something heavy hit the floor behind me. I turned around. Sophie had fallen flat on the floor, her right leg curled up, her face pressed against the ground. She'd fallen as if her knee had suddenly lost all strength. Two nearby students rushed to help her up. Sophie's face was deathly pale, her right hand clutching the resistance band she'd just received. "I'm fine. Just missed a step." She stood up forcefully, waving and smiling. But I saw that when she stood up, her right leg shook three times before stabilizing. She didn't know whose fate she'd borrowed. She thought she was stealing my talent. In reality, she was stealing Rachel's fate. The fate of a girl who would spend the rest of her life in a wheelchair. Sophie's leg was getting worse. The next day during fundamentals class, Mrs. Foster had each group come up one by one to do center practice combinations. Small jumps, medium jumps, grand jumps in sequence. Sophie was in the second group. The first four eight-counts went fine, but when she got to the grand jump, her right foot pushed off and her body flew into the air. The instant she landed, her landing leg suddenly buckled. She barely kept from falling, but the whole movement was crooked like someone had shoved her from the side. Mrs. Foster frowned and tapped the floor with her teaching stick. "Sophie, your grand jump landing was unstable. What's been going on with you lately? Last week in the second group, your landings were the cleanest." Sophie stood there as her right leg involuntarily trembled. She had to press her heel hard into the floor to stop it. "Mrs. Foster, I think it's because I bumped my knee yesterday and it hasn't fully recovered yet." Mrs. Foster nodded without pressing further and turned her gaze to me. "Emma, your turn."
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