Fioro, Inner City

‘Miss Aston’s post has reached 902.224.367 likes as of now. Congratulations, the Princess has achieved a new record. 41.645 credits have been added so far.’

“I already told you not to call me that,” Seijuro snaps, though her voice lacks its usual strength.

“Doesn’t seem like you to worry so much,” Kuro comments from the driving seat, causing their eyes to meet briefly in the rearview mirror. “Haven’t you done similar things a hundred times by now? I’m sure it’s going to be okay… Probably.”

Seijuro snorts. “Was that supposed to make me feel better?”

Kuro doesn’t provide more than an apologetic shrug, and Seijuro goes back to watching her city passing by, its bots and its people and its buildings and its giant ads about one thing or another.

“Is he going to be there?”

“Yeah,” Seijuro murmurs, “He said he would.”

As if on cue, Seijuro feels her smartwatch vibrating against her wrist, and barely manages to hold in a sigh.

It could be anything, she tries to tell herself.

‘Miss Aston has received a request to connect from Liam Aston. Would you like to accept?’

‘Yes,’ for once, Seijuro uses her thoughts to respond to a System’s message, and her father’s voice comes through almost instantly.

‘Seijuro.’

Without thinking about it, the girl straightens her sitting posture.

‘Something came up, didn’t it?’

‘Yes.’

Seijuro’s lips curve bitterly, forming something which can’t possibly be considered a smile.

At least, he didn’t try to dance around the issue or told one of his secretaries to connect instead.

‘What?’

For a long moment, her father doesn’t respond. In truth, she knows better than to ask. The fact he should owe her at least this much, after having promised he’d come, serves of as little comfort as it does leverage material.

‘Work,’ Liam finally adds, as if that explains everything. ‘Boring stuff. How’s the apartment?’

‘The country, or the company?’

‘Seijuro…’

Seijuro clenches her teeth.

‘The apartment is fine. I’m still getting used to it.’

‘I miss seeing you around. I didn’t expect the house to feel so empty after you were gone.’

It has always felt empty, Seijuro stops herself from sending. They hardly saw each other before she moved. It was the reason she moved in the first place.

‘The house was already too big for the three of us. I can’t imagine what it feels like to live there by yourself. You should move into the city with me, maybe closer to work?’

And to me.

‘Aiko and I always planned to have more children. Three, at least. The house was built with that in mind.’

Seijuro shuts closed her eyes, taking a deep breath in order to stop a lump of emotion from immediately blocking her throat.

‘Then we had you, and it became hard to conceive of enough time in a day to allow for more.’

Liam laughs, and sitting still is all Seijuro can do to not scream.

“Seijuro? You look pale. Should I stop?”

“No. We’re already late,” Seijuro forcers herself to say, feeling the vibration of words leaving her mouth as a strange contrast to a mental conversation with her father.

‘I have something for you,’ Liam says, abruptly changing the subject.

Perhaps Seijuro took too long to add anything or her lack of laughter was more apparent than she realized. It doesn’t really matter, so as long they remain without mentioning her name again.

‘Is it a pony?’

This time, her father’s laugh has more of a real tone to it. ‘No, I’m afraid it isn’t a pony. Will you ever stop reminding me?’

‘Will you ever stop breaking your promises to me?’

Ouch. That came out much, much harsher than Seijuro intended it to.

Still, Liam continues laughing as if nothing happened. ‘Fair enough, fair enough. You know, it has to do with the reason why I couldn’t leave today.’

Seijuro perks up in her seat. ‘It?’

‘Hum… I was thinking of dinner together. As an apology for today, in fact.’

‘Tonight?’

‘Yes, tonight. How does the Seven Seas sound?’

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Seijuro can scarcely believe it. ‘It sounds… Wonderful. Will you tell me of this mysterious present then?’

‘Not exactly a present, but yes, I’ll tell you everything about it at the dinner. Eight?’

‘Sure. See you at eight.’

“He isn’t coming, is he?” Kuro suddenly asks, seemingly unable to contain his curiosity or exasperation for longer.

Terminating the connection with a thought, Seijuro levels him a look and sighs. “It isn’t polite to stare. And you could’ve run over somebody.”

“I’ll take that as a no. Prepared? Because I can see your school already.”

Cold ice settles within Seijuro’s stomach abruptly; for a moment, she fears she might bend over and vomit right there and then, but the moment passes, Kuro holds her gaze, and Seijuro gives him a short, hesitant nod.

Already, she can spot some of the reporters standing below the school’s large staircase, undoubtedly watching for her iconic carriage and having already spotted it as well, if their sudden and visible excitement is anything to go by.

A small swarm of flying microphones and cameras circles over the reporters, and Seijuro might have found them cute, if not for how frequently she finds herself with them being shoved in her face one way or another.

“We could still use the back entry,” Kuro offers.

His eyes are full of irritation, which, Seijuro is surprised to find, she is grateful for.

“We can’t. Not today. And besides, they already saw us.”

Faint questions are flying their way long before Kuro has a chance to bring the car to a stop. Beyond the reporters, Seijuro sees many of her fellow students watching the show with interest, though none of them dares approach the flock of cameras and mics, not that she blames them.

They can’t see you, Seijuro reminds herself as she watches the reporters’ hungry faces approaching from the car's mirrored windows.

“Time?”

‘07:03 am, Miss Aston.’

So late; she intended to arrive much earlier than this. Usually, ten minutes would’ve been enough to walk from the school’s entrance to its auditorium, which means fifteen for her and probably twenty today, even if she ignores every question thrown her way.

She has… no time. Well, no point in delaying the inevitable.

Seijuro sighs, then throws Kuro her best impression of the gentle, innocent smile she usually forces herself to wear in public.

“What are you waiting for? The door will hardly open itself, worthless servant.”

Kuro shivers visibly. “Keep from pointing that thing at me again, and I’ll do whatever you want, Milady Aston.”

***

Outer City, Gold District

Brushing her teeth is all she has time to do if she wants to get to school on time. But keeping her automatic toothbrush raised has proven a greater task than anticipated, and Sara glares at the dark circles under her eyes as though she might make them disappear by sheer will alone.

“Sara!”

Sara glares at her tired face and curses life’s unjustness. She thinks about sighing, realizes she can’t with her mouth full, then spits everything in the sink.

“Fucking… going already… Fuck…”

Sara washes her face and leaves her bathroom, then gestures vaguely toward the mess of clothes occupying her bedroom floor.

“Point to something I wore only once. The most recent thing.”

Soon, a pair of pants are highlighted in her vision, plus her old, trusty hoody, and Sara quickly squeezes herself inside them, then wraps her hair in a loose ponytail.

A new style… Definitely, not the lowest she has ever sunk.

As she goes down the stairs, Sara realizes Isobel has been fighting her own battle. The smell of burnt food and metal quickly fills the house, something which vaguely resembles eggs and bacon is set on the table, while Isobel herself attempts, in vain, to save what used to be one of their best pans, still letting out smoke, whizzing under sprays of water from the sink.

Sara honestly doesn’t understand why the woman tries. Though even for her, this is certainly a new low… Sara doubts whatever is in those plates is still edible.

“Isobel,” Sara greets, flatly. Ignoring the first plate, the one which seems better off, she walks around the table and stuffs her mouth with breakfast without sitting. After some time living here, she was bound to learn how to ignore the taste of burned food.

“Sara? Ah! Wait! Those weren’t yours…” Isobel sighs, realizing Sara is already eating, “I could have cooked another for myself, you know?”

“Don’t you have work soon?” Sara answers after using half the glass of juice to avoid chewing. She was right about the food, after all. “And besides, I’m just trying to save our pans. We don’t have many left.”

“Very funny.” Isobel seems to have given up on the pan, filling it with water, before turning and leaning against the marble sink with her arms crossed.

Sara can’t avoid noticing once more how different they are, Isobel’s light brown hair and eyes to her blond hair and blue eyes... Which, apparently, came from her father, though that’s all she has ever managed to get out of Isobel after years of many painful attempts.

“And how many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me Isobel?”

“Is? Iso? What about Bell?” Sara tries, taking another bite and the rest of the juice.

Isobel frowns. “Aren’t you at least going to sit?”

Uhm. Not that bad. The juice, that is. ‘Remind me of the brand later’, Sara orders, eyeing the bottle for reference.

‘Got it.’

Sara almost frowns, though she contains herself in time. Another unusual answer… Another malfunction? Not something she wishes to think about while sleep-deprived. By now, it is clear she’ll have to pay Blake another visit, sooner or later. Perhaps before this all blows up in her face?

“Sara?”

“What?”

Sara looks up in time to catch Isobel’s suspicious gaze. “Did you hear what I said? You were spacing out.”

Sara blinks. “Sorry, went to sleep late. Think I might be a bit out of it still.”

“Right,” Isobel states flatly, not lifting her gaze in the slightest. “I’m sure you were responsible enough to get up on time today, instead of playing the whole night because you forgot what day it is.”

Sara pretends a sudden urge to cough, using it as an excuse to quickly avert her eyes.

Yeah, responsible, that’s her middle name.

“Sara.”

Isobel’s gaze is serious now, worried, even. Almost more than Sara can handle, after everything.

“I did not play the whole night.” No, she spent the night doing much worse things, and she did forget… But Isobel doesn’t need to know such trifling, uninteresting details. “I’m fine. Everybody knows nothing important happens on the first day.”

Isobel sighs. “Did you remember to grab your documents?”

Sara wrinkles her nose. She didn’t, but there’s about a snowball’s chance in hell she’s climbing back up to get them. “They still haven’t gotten rid of that? What are we, back in the twenty-first century?”

“Sara. I’m not kidding. Security is tighter lately.”

“Why?”

The woman presses her lips together, a familiar expression Sara has learned to interpret as a firewall of the highest order. She might as well be trying to bypass Aston’s security system, for as useful trying to extract information from Isobel has proven to be over their years together.

“Seriously mom? State secrets? This early in the morning?”

At least she has the decency of looking meek.

Sara sighs. “Forget it. I’m about to be late, anyway.”

Leaving her half-eaten breakfast behind, Sara heads for the door. She gives Isobel a wave over her shoulder, ignoring the woman’s annoyed growl.

“I can’t believe you! Why do you never listen to anything I say?!”

“Eh, I’ll be fine! If they catch me, I’ll just use my awesome connections!”

“You do know I won’t be able to help you immediately if you get in trouble again, right?! You might lose the entire day of school, at least!”

Sara wonders if she’d be allowed to sleep in whatever hole they shove troublesome teenagers into these days.

“Gods, why does she never listen?!”

In spite of everything, Sara finds herself smiling. “I heard that!”

Isobel sighs. “Be careful out there! And warn me if you’re going to come back late!”

“Bye, mom!”

The Central is meant to easily connect Fioro, and Sara doesn’t have to walk in the morning cold wind for long to reach the closest station.

Flying machines overhead, familiar faces in the crowd, cleaning trucks moving on their own to pick up the trash, holographic ads, floating skateboarding citizens… Paying attention to her surroundings is all Sara can do to avoid falling asleep while walking.