"Hey! Don't just stand there like a statue!"
Chloe didn't care about any weird vibes in the air. Giggling, she bent down, scooped up a fluffy snowball, and chucked it at Lois without warning.
"Earth to Lois, sis!"
Smack!
The snowball nailed Lois square on the forehead, bits of icy snow spraying across her dark brown bangs.
"Chloe!"
Lois snapped out of her thoughts, her cheeks flushing as she crouched down, not about to let that slide.
"You think your big sis can't handle a snowball fight?"
She fired back, her city-girl clumsiness showing but bursting with energy.
And just like that, an all-out snowball war broke out.
The two of them were screaming and laughing, stumbling through calf-deep snow, chasing and dodging each other.
Snowballs flew through the air, splatting against coats and hats with soft thuds.
The pristine snow was soon a mess of footprints and snowball craters.
Clark stood off to the side, watching them laugh without a care in the world, a shy smile creeping onto his face.
The winter sun poured down on him, filling him with a strange, almost indescribable warmth and energy.
It was like every cell in his body was soaking up that golden light.
It felt amazing, like sinking into a warm bath, but it came with a catch—
The soft crunch of the snow under his feet felt amplified a thousand times, every tiny vibration crystal clear. The girls' laughter and the whoosh of snowballs were almost too loud in his ears, borderline piercing. A stray snowball Chloe chucked moved so slowly in his vision, it was like watching a movie in slow motion.
Clark wanted to join in, to be part of this simple, carefree fun.
So he bent down and carefully scooped up a handful of snow.
It felt cool and fluffy in his palm.
He squeezed gently.
This was something he'd been practicing—controlling his strength.
Like Dad and Uncle Locke taught him. Like a normal person would.
But…
The second his fingers tightened, an invisible force wrapped around the snowball.
Crunch!
A faint sound came from his hand, barely audible.
The loose snowflakes, caught in his unconscious bio-field, compacted instantly under the unintended pressure.
It wasn't a snowball anymore—it was a hard, glossy ice ball.
His strength…
It was getting stronger again.
The loss of control startled him, and he quickly loosened his grip.
While no one was looking, he tossed the rock-hard "snowball" into the deep snow at his feet, burying it. Then he scooped up another handful, this time extra careful to form a loose, soft snowball.
"Clark! Don't just stand there!" Chloe called out, laughing as she lobbed a snowball straight at his face.
Pure instinct kicked in.
His body reacted faster than his brain.
He didn't need to think to track the snowball's path, speed, or where it'd land.
He could dodge it with a spin, a jump, or even with his eyes closed.
Heck, he could move faster.
Fast enough to be a blur, too quick for them to even see.
But no!
Uncle Locke's words echoed in his head: "Control, Clark. Your strength is a tool, not who you are."
"The strongest thing about being human is knowing when to hold back."
Something incredible happened.
Right before his body could pull off a dodge so fast it'd look inhuman, Clark forced himself to rein it in, his willpower shutting down that surging impulse.
Super smarts beat super strength today!
Thwack!
The snowball hit his raised forearm, the impact light, snow scattering in a cool burst.
"Ha! Gotcha!" Chloe whooped, jumping up, her face flushed with excitement and the cold.
Clark shook off his arm, flashing a grin, trying to play it natural.
But only he knew how much effort it took to "slow down" and act clumsy just now—more focus and willpower than dodging it would've required.
It was worth it, though.
He could have fun with everyone like this.
"My turn!"
Clark called out, bending down to scoop another snowball.
He aimed at Chloe, deliberately slowing his throw.
The snowball arced through the air, perfectly aimed but at just the right speed—a normal kid's throw.
Chloe squealed, dodging it with a laugh.
"Hey, nice aim!"
A sharp voice cut in from the side.
Clark's heart skipped a beat.
Lois, that school reporter, had stopped her snowball fight with Chloe and was now standing just a few steps away.
Her sharp eyes studied the hand Clark had just thrown with, then flicked up to his face.
She'd noticed something…
The way that snowball flew—its path was too steady, wasn't it?
Like it was on a laser-guided track, no wobble or spin like most snowballs thrown with uneven force.
And the way he shaped the snowball…
Was he being extra careful?
Was that some kind of technique?
Clark's stomach dropped, but he kept an innocent smile plastered on his face, his heart pounding a little faster.
"Uh… I guess? I'm used to tossing hay bales on the farm. Kinda builds up the aim."
He tried to brush it off with farm-boy logic.
Lois didn't say anything. She just tilted her head, her dark brown curls falling to one side, her gaze locked on him like a spotlight. It was the kind of curiosity that felt like it could peel back layers, like a bloodhound sniffing out something new.
Just then, Chloe scooped up a massive snowball, grinning mischievously as she aimed at Lois.
"Sis! Heads up!"
"Ah!"
Distracted by the incoming attack, Lois spun to face Chloe.
Clark let out a quiet breath, feeling a thin layer of sweat on his back turn cold in the chilly air.
Watching Lois run off, a complicated look flickered in his blue eyes.
Man, reporters are scary. What kind of job even is that?
Her observation skills were unreal—playing around for a few minutes, and she almost caught him slipping.
For the first time, he really felt it: hiding who he was wasn't just about being careful on the farm. It was about watching every move around people—especially someone as sharp as Lois.
It was like walking on eggshells.
Ugh.
He really missed hanging out with Dio.
At least with Dio, he didn't have to worry about accidentally elbowing his buddy into the next county.