***

Her sighs filled the mostly-recreated room. It still didn’t feel quite like home.

It didn’t help that it was painfully easy to see why. Fairy blue wallpaper stretching far until the white dry wall stopped it in it’s tracks. Destructive holes being plugged up, their shapes ending up being scars for the room around her.

The bed, the dresser—had to be outright replaced, sticking out like a sore thumb due to the short notice purchases. Some of the posters she had, torn and had to be removed or outright destroyed. And the crushing part of the trophy and accompanying photos, moved downstairs now.

She awakened her siVis in her room. The surge of cosmic energy and the slight activation of her ability at the same time, causing her to flail her limbs as her parents screamed in terror for her to calm down. They were awake, didn’t hear her come into the house, and had to rush up to her room just in time to see her snap.

This is supposed to be a room, a sanctuary… Most importantly, a thing that one doesn’t have to think about until they have to. Now it’s another thing float about in her mind. Another thing to accept. It’s funny how rooms are also representations of the people who rest within them. Jackie can think, and say, and scream everything about how she feels and people wouldn’t get it… But once they scroll into here…

Which was pretty sad, since her suit’s rad as always.

Black silk, long sleeved with white-buttoned cuffs, open wide showing her white dress shirt with black pants. Her long, dirty blonde hair was down—rendered wavy after her and her mother worked on it, as it completely covered her back, up to the small of it.

She looked at herself, at the mirror perched on the wall. Without the ascot and frills, now she looked like an amateur and egotistical music producer than the 19th century composer.

Going over to the new bed, scooping up the felt, long strapped pocketbook of hers, she put it over her right shoulder as she heard the knocking.

“Come in!” Jackie adjusted her tux, tugging on each side.

Dawn, her small mother, came in. Well, small to her being so tall—she was the average height of a woman—but you couldn’t tell that because she was sandwiched by two giants. She got her long hair from her, but it was black, and her bangs were finely cut. Structure of her face, but her eyes were somehow more fierce, and she wasn’t wearing her glasses. She was in her purple robes and slippers, yet her face was determined and steely.

“And you’re sure that you want your suit open--?” Dawn asked, right to the point.

“Mom, this is a world fair event with posh to it—I’m not accepting the Medal of Freedom or something,” Jackie smiled a bit.

Dawn crossed her arms. “Every time you go out, you have to dress and act that way—”

“Oh god Mom please—” Jackie crumbled over a bit, preparing herself to hear something like that but was still disarmed.

“First impressions are everything, dear. You could crack the secret to world peace or solved the idea of evil itself—but if you look like someone from the streets, you’d spend half your energies explaining that you’re telling the truth.”

Jackie sighed at that. Faux-arguing with your parent is already an impossible task—doing it when your parent is a lawyer is the same as restoring the Titanic from the depths of the ocean—from the ocean floor.

It did make Jackie think though. Maybe this could be their new first impression. A new chance to fully proof what they were made of.

“When you’re right, you’re right…” Jackie admitted. “But I think it’s enough for now. Anything else might just look like it’s hanging off me like a streetlamp—”

“And I’ll finally give my blessings…” Dawn said. “Provided that you let me do your make-up for good measure—”

Jackie put her hands on her hips.

“Mom, you could just give it all up and start your own stylist boutique, y’know that--?”

“Or I can do both equally well,” she smirked. “Like I’ve been doing for years now, who needs the store when you have your hands and the tools?”

“…I do wonder where my ego came from,” Jackie said. “And I think I just got the answer—”

Dawn laughed, walking up and adjusting Jackie’s attire in ways she didn’t see or realize.

“You hang out with your father too much, that’s the problem—” Dawn joked—in the way it was half-truth and half-jovial, so you can’t really know if she’s truly mad or bothered or not. “You got into the habit of roughing it too much and you neglect your beauty. The siVis injuries still lingering doesn’t help, so let’s add the suicidal heroism to that as well—”

Jackie glanced away. She wanted to avoid the Elephant in the Room for once.

“…You think Dad’s going to get involved with Extant? You think it’s going to work…?”

After what happened on the highway, Jack Snr. felt just as lost and powerless. What was supposed to be retirement, he’s been talking to people all week—trying to get involved with the Extant Forces in any shape he can. Which meant he was out of the house a lot more, and with Jackie’s home away from home being set up…

“Hopefully, they’ll look past his achievements and make him realize that he’s exasperating his problems,” Dawn bluntly answered.

“And he hasn’t listened to you before he decided all of this…?” Jackie asked.

“That’s the other side of it, dear,” Dawn explained to her child. “You could present yourself as the most rational and have the best presentation—but it’s ultimately up to the beholder to take it in or not. And more often than not, they don’t.”

Jackie rubbed her face briefly, in flummoxed exasperation not directed to her Mom, but in the shitty, worldly bind she found herself in. “Then what can a person do against that…?”

“What you can,” her mother’s voice—usually so stern that you can only get the impression that she’s too stoic—too closed off to empathize or emote… But in context in this, it’s a reassuring calmness that one needed to hear. “We can only do so much that we can. Strengthen your stance, show that you’re right by proving the details every chance you get. And while it hurts getting degraded, cast aside—the truth will always outlast façades or lies.”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

Jackie often felt that her and her mother’s relationship was always strictly functional. There is love—always have been, but considering the person she is, it was always hard to face her, tell her the problems that were wrecking her, because she’d get exactly what she wished: a solution. But solutions aren’t aligned with what she wanted and just the solution lacked the warmth her father’s inspiration gave. But it was always times like these, that she realized what a rock she was.

Jackie smiled. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Of course. Now come on, we can talk and do your make-up. Well, I talk—you listen—”

“Can I at least request for a light dressing…?” Jackie whined.

“No promises,” Dawn smirked again.

***

“Yo Frank, do I look good--?” Maddie fluffed up her curly locks with her hands.

She took there, in a black spaghetti-strapped dress. Square neck, sleeveless to show off her freckled shoulders. She wore a solid, white headband in her hair, white but old purse at her side, and with black stripped, white high-top sneakers.

Right in the middle of the closing up, neighborhood laundromat.

“You’re always pretty—the dress is just a statement—”

A rotund man in slacks and a pencil shirt was using a mop, wiping away at the floor. His nose was long, his hair black and greasy at the back and sides of the head, the rest a clean shaven bald.

Maddie made a noise, making pouty lips while vibrating them.

“You’re not even looking at meee, Daaaaad-!” Maddie did an impression of a valley girl.

“I’ve told ya’—I’m your god-dad,” Frank continued to mop with a bemused face. “I’m both your honorary uncle at best and a sitcom babysitter at worse—”

“And you’ve been doing halfway decent doing both, yeah—”

Frank made an “oof”-ing sound, causing Maddie to cackle until she coughed moments later.

Frank looked up, stopping mid-wipe. “And you’re sure that you’re alright?”

“Frank, if I’m not blue or unconscious, then it’s something I can handle,” Maddie cleared her throat. After sniffling, “It’s always been that way—”

“Yeah yeah yeah—I’ll definitely explain that when they’re cuffing me for neglect—'Officer, she wasn’t black and blue when she came down with pneumonia: I respected her wishes!’”

“’Pneumonia—‘?! Fraaaank, come oooooon!” Maddie waves her hand in a dismissive tone. “At worse this is just the flu or some shit, but I’m fine now and that’s all that matters. Plus uh—you’re still the adult in the room, you could literally just say ‘sit your ass down’ and that’d be it—”

“You’re gonna be a lady soon—literally soon, you’re gonna take another step in a few days.”

“Ugh. Don’t remind me…”

Frank finished his work, putting his mop aside. Maddie just glanced at him, and then it turned into a stare as he stood there. Hands in pockets.

“Yooou’re… Independent and combative anyways. If even I did put my foot down for the greater good or whatever, it’s not like you’re gonna stay still.”

Maddie just looked him down. “Tell me what you’re dancing around, Frank.”

“… I mean, there’s no real good way to seque into this but… Your parents. They’re coming up here to visit when your birthday ‘happens’.”

A million thoughts charged through a body that wanted to do a million things and wrestle with a million brewing emotions.

Maddie just nodded her head. Checked her purse, and continued to nodded her head. Began walking out of Frank’s laundromat.

“Bye Frank,” Maddie said tersely.

“S-see ya’, uh...kiddo,” Frank sighed and is making his way to the living side of the building. “Come back whenever you’re done feeling what you’re feeling.”

Maddie didn’t hear that. She didn’t need to hear anymore. She just kept walking.

It didn’t matter how much it “hurt” her to do it.

***

Aiko started to get used to twinging. She really, really didn’t want to get used to twinging.

Her hair was finally tied in a neat, simple bun on the side of her head, her Okaasan tying a ribbon to top it off. And it was just the tip of the iceberg.

Her body was strapped within a “modern kimono”: a full body jade dress with cherry blossom trees etched across the wear in gold, white, light pink, and black with incredible detail.

Because that’s what Aiko needs. Something up to her knees that can bind her legs at the worst possible moment.

But this wasn’t about what she wanted, right now.

“Don’t make that face,” Okaasan said. “If you’re going to a special event, you’re going to do it formally as you can. Be lucky that we’re not putting you into an actual kimono.”

Otousan was using Aethernet in his chair, checking everything related to the Conference. “You shouldn’t be going anyways—it is far too quiet tonight. Destruction only follows after that.”

Aiko withheld a sigh, rolling her eyes. “I’m sure a breeze would cause you to think the second Ice Age is not too far behind, Otousan.”

He made a face behind the digital sheet of information.

When did they get so embolden all of a sudden…? Aiko was so confused. So cold, so to the point… And yet still quaking in fear of the world around them.

“Do you have enough funds to even enter, Aiko?” Okaasan asked.

“Of course, I do!” Aiko felt incredulous. “I’m going with others, so they can spot me if they could--!”

“And you’re sure this crowd of yours have your best interests--?” Otousan interrogated.

“What’s with the both of you?!” Aiko shouted. “Where did this proactiveness come from?!”

“We are forced to be that way because of the state of the world, Aiko,” Otousan said, stern. “And more intimately… Because of our loosening grip on you.”

Okaasan only nodded.

Aiko just squinted. “And what does that mean, ‘loosening grip’…? Again, if I am really bringing shame to our family—”

“We are not giving into your demands,” Otousan stated. “If you do not make it back here by sun rise, there will be consequences.”

Aiko made a long sigh. “Sure.”

She couldn’t be happier. She’ll be away from this prison of fear, out there, being able to forge her own life away from it. Hopefully, the others will understand in her using the house more than them…

***

Tracy sighed in the dark, only her TV being the source of light. “Well. Things are slowly drying up, finally…”

She closed the phone, shutting off the various of notices she got in quick succession.

Her hand clasped her forehead. “I guess this is the beginning of the end for me… End of my rope…”

Tracy rose in her red, frilly dress. The frills growing bigger and wider as it started from her chest down to the ends.

Her crimson lips wavered. “At least this convention has a lot of things going for it… Which means other options. Other than this…”

***

“Aaaaah! And you’re looking so precious, honey!”

River nodded at her mother’s praise. “Thanks Ma, thank you…”

Her hair was an actual hairstyle now, complete with blue hair dye that she rarely buys, let alone uses. She wore a cream, strapless gown, with black stripes that were so thin, it physically jutted from the fabric as well as a design, creating ridges until it makes it towards the bottom where an upside-down V shape is made. And, for the first time in forever, River had contacts versus her glasses.

“And that Conference is basically a World’s Fair they used to have back in the day,” her father, reading a physical newspaper, was sat on the couch, his walker leaned against the side. “All sorts of crazy things held up in there. Be sure to take some pictures when you’re there.”

“But how is she gonna make room for all the pictures she has to take for me of herself?!” her mother beamed, if she wasn’t bound to her mobile seat, she’d spring up and do it herself. River was faced with her, laughing uneasily.

“She can do both, Ma,” Pa reassured both—more River than her. “In fact, why not both? Have her new friends pose her behind all the crazy things.”

River laughed again. “I’ll be sure to be 10 feet away from the exhibits and the cameras, got it—”

Both of her parents laughed heartily.

There came the ping of guilt.

“And you guys are sure that you’re gonna be okay…?” River asked, softly. “I can just call it off, stay here, be there for you—”

“Now dear,” Ma began. “We can’t run your life, especially when you need to go out and life it. You’ve been cooped up in that room for who knows how long now—it was that or straight off helping out Wayne with things.”

“You need this, kiddo,” Pa finished.

River gulped, fumbled with her lips.

“Well… Okay. Only if it’s okay with you all.”

Ma looked at Pa with a warm snide. “She’s learning, at least.”

River walked out of their living room, going into the front room of their home.

“Oh yeah--!” Pa yelled for her. “Be sure if you can get something for Roland, if you can! He got overtime!”

And right there, the ping of guilt settled itself. Her older brother would’ve loved to see weird, sci-fi made manifest, right before his unjaded eyes.

River opened the door, locking it with her key that hung from her bracelet.

She wanted to disappear, right into smoke. But she couldn't do that, either.