I stepped out of the shower in my dorm room, wrapping a towel around my waist.

My body felt like it was on fire, but in a good way. I was sore, but I was also feeling incredibly refreshed. My skin tingled with energy, and I felt like I had just run a marathon.

But I also felt like I had accomplished something, like I had reached a milestone in my life. Like I had accomplished something that was worth the effort.

And my bone-thin hips and non-existent curves didn't bother me like they normally did. I felt like I was on cloud nine, and I was left with the feeling of accomplishment.

It felt like a fresh start.

I walked over to the sink, looking at myself in the mirror. I frowned, tugging at the strands of wet hair.

I didn't look any different. My hair still refused to lay down flat in a natural manner. It looked messy, and the work Stella put into making it presentable had been undone by a vigorous shower.

I looked at the beauty supplies Stella had neatly arranged around my sink.

There were brushes, combs, hairspray, mousse, shampoo, conditioner, and all sorts of things. There was even a bottle of detangling spray.

I sighed, grabbing a brush and the spray, and getting to work on my hair.

It hadn't even occurred to me that my unruly frizzled hair could have been the result of poor nutrition. That I'd been depriving my hair of what it needed to stay healthy, just like my muscles and ligaments and bones. Just one comment from Stella and everything seemed so obvious.

It was something I could control, at least to a certain degree.

The least I could do is take care of the hair on my head. I didn't need to be perfect, or even pretty. But I'd never really had the idea, cultural pressure, and means to worry about stuff like this.

My mother and I had been close, but her drinking problem had gotten worse and worse as I transitioned from elementary school to middle school.

She was a loving mom, but grew increasingly distant as the years passed and her sleeplessness and depression got worse. Her inability to let go of the past and the trauma she endured. The drinking. The neglect.

The isolation. The fear.

The anger.

By the time I hit high school, the relationship had deteriorated to the point where she barely acknowledged my presence at home. I was an afterthought, a nuisance that needed to be fed and clothed, and nothing more. Sometimes not even that. It was like I didn't exist. Like I was a ghost, a phantom that haunted her waking hours before she went off to work.

Or at least that's what it felt like.

She'd tutored me and brought me ahead when I was a little girl. Taught me how to sew and knit and read.

And yet she couldn't seem to bring herself to interact with me beyond what was required as a parent as I grew up. She usually ate at the diner or got dinner at a bar, and I was on my own. Once in a while, she'd get groceries. I'd learned to cook for myself.

She'd leave cash and a grocery list for me on the table in the kitchen, and I'd learn to buy and make my own meals. I was lucky in that my mother, despite all her flaws, did have enough forethought to teach me at least that much. I was lucky I wasn't a burden. That she hadn't abandoned me to fend for myself on the street. Or sent me to a foster home. She kept a roof over my head.

But she grew increasingly negligent as the years passed. And by the time I hit my last year in middle school, I was on my own. I was making my own breakfasts, lunches, dinners. I was doing the grocery shopping, paying the bills, making sure the rent got paid.

I didn't understand it, but I'd given up on trying to figure her out a long time ago. It's hard to put into words how alone and abandoned that makes someone feel. How helpless. How worthless. I'd go hungry to make sure the rent was paid and we weren't evicted.

I never had the time nor the inclination to focus on myself. To care about how I looked, or whether or not I had a boyfriend, or if I was popular, or if I was cool.

She'd never taught me how to do my own makeup or take care of my hair. It was like she forgot I even existed until it came to feeding me dinner or signing permission slips. Or yelling at me about my grades, even if they were high and she should have been happy with me. I was usually near the top in the class and yet I could tell it wasn't enough.

Until she stopped caring about that too, I suppose. She was never really around. She worked two, sometimes three, jobs just to pay the bills, and I never saw her unless I caught her in the early hours of the morning when she got back from the graveyard shifts. It was like we were strangers living in the same house, and I was just the little kid that ate the food and slept in her house. And that was the extent of our relationship. She never really spoke to me anymore.

So, when the chance to move away and leave my home and my mother behind presented itself, I didn't hesitate. I was ready. I was eager to get away from her. From my mother.

From her apathy and neglect and alcoholism and depression. From the way she didn't even bother to try to hide the fact that she stopped caring about my life. That she'd given up. That she was a drunk. That she'd lost all hope.

That she didn't love me anymore, and never would again.

I sighed and set down the brush and the bottle of detangler.

But with the power of hindsight, I wondered about the lucidity in her eyes when she'd learned I'd gotten into Kaleidoscope.

She hadn't even bothered to learn where I'd applied. She'd never told me where she went for her secondary education or for college, and didn't even have plaques or diplomas to show me where she'd gone.

And that was the weirdest thing. It's like her past was completely erased. But she'd been so sure that the letter from the school was an acceptance letter the second she saw it. I wasn't sure if it was just my memories playing tricks on me, but I was sure her eyes had snapped straight to the seal.

The screaming and shouting that followed in the weeks after had felt different from our normal routine. More vitriolic, and yet also strangely hollow and desperate. The usual passive aggressive tone replaced by a genuine fear. I hadn't really noticed it at the time, but suddenly she was invested in me. She was paying attention to me, even if it was riddled with screaming and crying, begging me to go somewhere else.

Anywhere else.

Anywhere but there.

Her arguments didn't even really make sense. They weren't cogent, and they felt like they weren't even really aimed at me, or at least that they had an ulterior motive.

It just made me stubbornly stand my ground, even when I didn't understand what the fuss was about. What was so special about Kaleidoscope that made her go from one end of the emotional spectrum to another? I couldn't tell. And I'd given up on trying to understand.

And after a few days, the screaming stopped. The anger was replaced by a lucid, defeated sadness. She'd stopped drinking and started paying attention to me, even though she was still distant.

But she didn't fight me anymore. She didn't argue or scream. It was like something had been drained from her. And she was left a shell of her former self.

I was still happy to get away from her. To leave her and the toxic memories that plagued our home, and to leave it all behind me. But she began to cook again. And buy groceries. And do laundry. All things I hadn't expected from her.

She was still quiet and reserved, and she wasn't the mother I'd grown up with. She wasn't the mother that had once loved me. She was someone new. Someone different. But at least it felt like I was wanted again.

It was a step forward, and it made leaving a little bit harder. But not much.

There were still so many painful memories, and the damage had already been done. I was ready to start a new chapter in my life, away from her and my broken, shattered past.

The drinking and lack of self care had tarnished her beauty, her long, light brown hair and her once youthful features now worn and weary. She'd lost weight, too, her already slim frame growing even thinner as she stopped taking care of herself.

I lathered my hands with the detangler spray, working my fingers through the knots in my hair. I looked at my face in the mirror, at my dark brown hair and hazel eyes.

Even while wasting away, my mother was a beauty. Even in her worst states, her long brown hair was silky and her blue eyes were full of color. She was always so beautiful, even if she was a drunkard and a neglectful parent. I wondered now in hindsight if her status as a former magical girl had given her body fortitude and resilience, even if her mental state was deteriorating.

I did take after her a lot, but my bones were more prominent and my features were more angular. And my skin had always been dry and brittle in comparison, despite the fact I did try to take care of myself. And, until Stella did her trick, my hair had never been as cooperative or soft or smooth as hers, even when I'd tried my hardest.

My cheeks and forehead and nose were dotted with little bumps. My hair was a constant mess. My skin was a disaster.

I wasn't beautiful, like she was. I didn't have her grace or poise. I didn't have the legendary charisma that would make Nightingale Eclipse one of the most feared commanders in the world.

But I could take care of my body, just as I was learning to take care of my hair. I could be strong. I could be healthy.

And I was going to be the best version of myself that I could be.

I finished combing out the knots in my hair and grabbed the hairdryer.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

I looked at my reflection in the mirror and smiled.

The girl looking back at me was a little rough around the edges. Her eyes were tired, but they had a fire in them that hadn't been there before. She had the same messy hair as always, but it was starting to look a little more manageable.

She had the same skinny body as before, but she was standing a little taller, a little more confidently.

I summoned my Nexus Device, the heart-shaped device materializing in my hands in a swirl of red and golden motes.

"Status."

The World System hummed to life in my ears. The familiar chimes echoed around the bathroom, and a screen appeared before me. It was translucent and floated in the air, projected by the Device.

VITALS

Name: Sienna Russo (Hinokawa)

Alias: ✨🌟Harmonia Lux✨🌟

Level: 55

Points: 231 (NEW)

Aura Health: 100%

Mana: 100%

ASPECTS

Soul Graph: Light

Origin: Love

Archetype: Prismatic

Signature Talent: Luminary Conversion

ATTRIBUTES

Strength: 4

Agility: 8

Constitution: 5

Intelligence: 17

Charisma: 11

Magic: 21

SKILLS

ABILITIES

ARTS

Luminary Conversion (Rank 5)

Luminary Bolt (Rank 3)

Luminary Beam (Rank 4)

Luminary Mirage (Rank 3)

Luminary Barrier (Rank 3)

Luminary Nova (Rank 3)

Luminary Bolt: Rapid Fire

Luminary Conversion: Hopeful Heart Alchemy

Luminary Nova: Dawn's Glorious Explosion

Luminary Mirage: Ethereal Moonlit Dance

Luminary Barrier: Celestial Guardian Dome

Passives:

Aura Sight

Resilience

Insight

MISC.

Transformations

Hopeful Heart Alchemy

Cadet Mode Twilight Aster Partial Shift Arcadia Vox (LOCKED) Full Shift Nightingale Eclipse

I frowned at my screen.

My stats hadn't increased, which wasn't a surprise. I'd just started working out, after all. It would take a while for me to gain any reasonable athleticism.

But my skills had improved considerably in just a month, especially compared to my first three weeks here at Kaleidoscope.

My magic, especially. I was using Luminary Bolt, Luminary Beam, Luminary Conversion and Luminary Mirage all the time, and they were improving rapidly. I had no idea how the ranks actually worked, but the max output of my Luminary Bolt had gone from a hard punch to blowing chunks out of buildings in just a few weeks.

I was still nowhere near as good as the real magical knights, of course.

They were the elite. And I was still just a newbie, but the improvements were still noticeable.

I was getting better. I could feel it. And that was the important part.

I was a work in progress. And things were in my control. I could do better.

And I was going to.

I frowned as my eyes glanced over the new word that had appeared next to my name. I had only learned about my father's name today, but on some level I knew I'd instantly accepted it as part of my identity.

"Hinokawa, huh?"

The sound felt nice to the ear, and it felt right on the tongue.

"Hinokawa... Yeah, that works."

It was obvious to me that 'Russo' had been an alias my mother had adopted to help hide her past. It was too common and generic. I didn't exactly look like a 'Hinokawa' either, and I had a sneaking suspicion it would stand out if I just started using it.

And I wasn't ready to share that name with the world, just as Stella wasn't ready to let go of Stella.

It was something we had in common at least. But my name was my own, while the name 'Celeste' was probably distant from her. However, both of us had grown up with names that weren't 'really' our own.

It was something I was still wrapping my head around, but it was also an important piece of information. And a core part of our shared history.

We were sisters. And we were both daughters of Arcadia Vox, Nightingale, and... Paladis. Legendary heroes.

And there was a chance our father was alive in another reality like ours. A chance that he wanted to be in our lives, but circumstances were preventing that. That he wasn't a deadbeat dad who abandoned us.

That was something to hold on to.

It was a lot to process. And it was a lot to think about. It felt like a big step, and I wasn't sure how to take it. I was just getting used to being Magical Girl Harmonia Lux, and I wasn't sure I was ready to become 'Sienna Russo Hinokawa' or anything else yet.

But the fact remained, that was who I was.

And I'd do our parents proud. No matter what. It would be a secret I held onto for now. Until it was time to tell the world. A time that would probably come sooner than later, the way things were going.

It felt like I'd just barely finished settling in and now there was an even greater shift happening to the life I was beginning to accept.

"Raiko? Can you hide the name 'Hinokawa' in my stats?"

The AI chirped and a window popped up in my field of view.

"Confirmed," it spoke with that slight accented inflection.

I nodded, feeling a small wave of relief wash over me.

I didn't know why, but I didn't want to share that part of my identity with anyone yet, or really even pay attention it. It was something that I felt like belonged to me. A secret that was only mine and Stella's to share.

I looked back down at my stats, and frowned again.

I still didn't understand a lot of what I was looking at. My 'Origin', and 'Archetypes'... none of those things were really explained to me. And my 'Soul Graph'... What did that mean? I still had no idea.

My 'Origin' was apparently 'Love.' And my 'Soul Graph' was 'Light.'

What did any of that actually mean? It wasn't really explained, and the more I looked at it, the more confused I felt. And the more questions I had.

It was something to ask about, though.

I'd figure it out in time. Or Twilight Aster could explain. She'd said she would teach me, after all.

But it was getting late, and I needed to go meet up with the others soon. I'd spent way too much time just staring at my reflection and playing with my hair. And then looking at my stats as mapped by the World System and wondering about what it all meant.

And what were these new 'points' on my screen?

I heard the sound of a doorknob turning, and I quickly wrapped my towel a bit tighter.

An increasingly familiar voice rang out as the door to my dorm room clicked open. "I forgot to give you—oh, hello!"

I smiled. "Hey, sis. Welcome back."

Stella blushed and quickly shut the door behind her.

"Sorry. Didn't expect you to be in the shower."

"Sorry about that," I replied. "I took a quick one after you stepped out."

I glanced at my stats again.

I sighed, clicking my Nexus Device closed. It vanished from view, transforming into a bracelet on my wrist, a heart-shaped charm on a silver chain.

Stella had taught me that trick.

Turning around, I walked over to Stella and wrapped my arms around her.

She tensed for a second, before relaxing and hugging me back.

"You're awfully huggy today," she said. "Not that I'm complaining."

I smiled. "Just trying something new."

"You know? You're a lot more like me than you'd think," she said, patting my back. "And I like hugs, too."

"I'm not as good as you are at them," I said.

"That's not true," Stella replied, hugging me a bit tighter. "You're better at them than you think."

I giggled. "You're right. I'm a good hugger."

She pulled back, smiling at me. "That you are."

"Anyway," I smiled, pulling away. "I should get ready to head out. We're going to be late for our meeting."

She nodded. "Of course. I'm totally doing your hair again though. Your shower just messed it all up."

I cringed a bit, looking away.

She laughed, and the two of us walked into the main room, sitting on the couch together as we talked.

"You dropped off way too many hair supplies," I commented.

She nodded. "Well, you don't have enough, so I'm giving you the rest of mine. You need it."

"But I didn't even ask for any."

"Sometimes people don't know what they need," Stella replied, shrugging her shoulders.

"I'm really not the type of person who does makeup."

"Which is exactly why you need this stuff."

"Maybe. But I don't see how it's relevant to being a Magical Girl or a Magical Knight. And it just seems like such a waste of time."

She frowned. "You'd be surprised."

I raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Beauty can be a weapon, just as much as a sword. You should never underestimate it."

I sighed. "Okay, whatever you say, sister dear. If I can find the time, I'll look into it."

"That's all I'm asking. Anyway, how about we talk about your next transformation?"

I blinked. "What?"

"Well, most of our classmates are on their second forms by now. They're not too strong, of course. Most are around Level 60 to 90 or so. But it's something you should work on. Rosaria Celeste is my Radiant Exaltation. Then again, my situation is a bit unique."

She grinned, winking at me. "It's my ace in the hole, but I rarely use it for obvious reasons. It's a lot of mana for people our age, too."

"Exaltation Form?"

Stella nodded. "It's technically a prerequisite to get into the program over at Kaleidoscope University, and most Knights don't achieve it until their last year or two here. They call it the 'Full Shift' as well as an Exalted Shift. It's the strongest form a Magical Girl can attain without a World Shift, or without some special unique ability or something."

"Is it meaningfully stronger than your base form? What are we talking about here?"

"I'd say it's about a fifty percent boost or so for most people. But it ups the rate of your mana burn, too, even passively. So it's not like it's something you can maintain forever. That said, most peoples' exalted states aren't too visually different from their base form. It's usually just more colorful, or has some little visual touch."

"Except you turn into a doppelganger of your totally-not-legendary-hero mom?" I teased, winking at her.

She nodded, cringing a bit. "Right, yeah. Not very subtle."

I smiled.

It did make me wonder if... my mother had somehow induced that in me when I fought Red Masque and the Horror that ate him. I'd have to investigate that later.

"So, anyway. That little meditation trick was also an exercise I used to access mine when I was twelve. It should be something that helps you find yours. Just, don't overthink it too hard, and you should be able to figure it out. It's not like there's a right way or wrong way to do it."

"That's awfully vague," I replied. "I mean, that barely meant anything!"

Stella shrugged. "I'm not a professor, and I've never tried teaching someone before."

I nodded. "Fair..."

"Anyway. Just like your initial Incognito Shift, or 'Cadet Mode' as some people call it, it involves a personal breakthrough. The first form is unlocked when you truly internalize your reason for fighting, while the second is a natural progression from mana mastery. The third, however, requires a true understanding of yourself and your identity. Your virtues and what drives you at your core, often with an emotional catalyst such as an endangered loved one or true self-actualization. That's why most students can't reach it until their senior year."

I blinked.

"Wait. You unlocked that when you were twelve?!" I exclaimed. "Isn't that... isn't that insane? That's so fast!"

She nodded, shrugging. "Yeah. Well. It's because I had a lot to process. I didn't want to let it slip away from me again."

"What?" I asked. "Let what slip away? What do you mean?"

She shook her head. "Sorry. I... don't want to talk about it."

She paused for a second. "It's not that I don't trust you. I just don't want to go into that part of my past."

"Oh. Okay."

I nodded, looking down at the floor. I wasn't going to press her. I didn't want her to feel uncomfortable, or make her relive bad memories. And, to be fair, I had a feeling that it involved our parents, and that was a sensitive subject for both of us. I was okay with leaving that alone for the moment.

I'd learn about her in due time.

"Well," I said, looking up at her, only to pale as she began to fret around with my hair.

"Oh, no. We can't have this," she said with a pout.

"...Can't I just go over like this? A quick dryout?"

She grinned. "Never!"

Stella grabbed my wrist, pulling me up and toward my bedroom.

"Stellaaa!" I called out. "C-cut it out!"

"Siennaaa ♪!" she responded, a sing-song lilt in her voice. "We're going to have fuuun ♪!"

"Uggghhhh," I groaned.

Stella giggled.

I was so dead.

Help...