Her head hurt.

It was hazy, and tense, and itchy in her ears. The tick-tick-tick of a clock ran rhythmically against those aches and pains, like a metronome left unattended. An alarm rang. It was loud, and chirping, and just annoying enough to stir her half-slumbering form.

Tsukiko opened her eyes.

She was… at her desk, in her apartment. It faced the wall of her little living space, and barely caught the sun from a window to the side. There, the curtains gently blew, and a chill breeze followed suit. A great, open cove sat far outside.

Her eyes were stinging, so she didn't stare for long. Brushing aside loose short black locks, the young woman let her sights wander.

Why was she up again? Right, the alarm.

The damned thing was still chirping. It was somewhere on her desk, beneath the mess of piled papers and half-opened books that laid atop. She brushed aside torn old drafts, and references, and pages full of notes she'd never used, and found it sitting at the bottom.

Tsukiko stared at two slates of fine rectangular crystal.

One was long and large, connected to a keyboard, and displayed the beginnings of a novel's rough draft. She lingered on it, eyes narrowed in some mixture of annoyance and shame, then dragged her tired eyes to the other. Its smaller twin was hand-sized, encased in a metal shell, and had been the source of that incessant sound. She reached to silence it, hand gripping its width.

It wasn't an alarm, it was a call. Tsukiko swiped, held it to her ear, then answered in her smooth voice.

"Hello?"

A woman answered back, professional and kind.

"Hi! Is this Miss Hirata?"

"Yes, that's me."

"Oh, good! I'm Maria Nu, from Twinon Elementary? I'm calling because—"

"Did something happen with Sachiko?"

"…Yes, unfortunately. Sachi had an incident at recess, and we were wondering if you could come pick her up?"

Tsukiko paused. She looked down at her thin body, and found little more than a large t-shirt draped over it.

"Miss Hirata?"

Still, she sighed.

"…I'll be there soon."

She hung up, content with that alone. Slowly standing, the young woman braced against her chair, then turned to face the sty that was her apartment. Notes, open books, tossed clothes, undone dishes…

Tsukiko scoffed. Her elven ears drooped. She couldn't help but stifle a bitter, low chuckle.

"I'm a mess."

A little while later, Tsukiko walked along tree-lined pavement. To her right was a boulder-filled sea wall, and to her left was a road. There was the beach and the sea, and then there was the city of wood and stone.

Were people staring at her?

She tugged at the hem of her mint-colored suspender dress, and adjusted the collar of her white turtleneck.

Was the way she walked strange?

She adjusted her steps, keeping rhythm with a pair of green pumps.

Were her eyes well-hidden?

She tidied the sunhat atop her head, with its brim just a little lower. In the shade, she took slow and soothing breaths. She was fine. She was fine, wasn't she?

A little girl called out ahead, and Tsukiko looked up with a soft smile.

"Moooom! Hurry up!"

Not far ahead of her, that same girl stood with a beaming smile and fists to her hips. They wore a little dress and backpack, with dark hair, pale skin, long elven ears, and eyes like a lightless void between the whites. A small, tiny bruise marked her cheek.

In a hushed tone, her mother chuckled. Sachi practically skipped in place.

"I'm coming, Sachiko…"

"I wanna' go home already! The boys were annoying!"

"It can't have been that bad. Wasn't little Es with you, at least…?"

"She was sick, so she didn't come today, remember?"

"Oh…"

The anxious mother caught up to her excitable daughter, and so they walked side-by-side with hands held together.

"…Sachiko?"

"Mmhm? Mmhm?"

"Why did you hit those boys?"

"They were being mean."

"Sachiko…"

"They were making fun of my eyes! I don't like it when they make fun of my eyes."

"That's no reason to hit them, sweetie. Did you at least try and talk to them?"

"Mmhm! Just like momma said: 'I don't like it when you make fun of my eyes, please stop', but they didn't listen! They were trying to touch my ears, too…"

"Did you tell the teacher?"

"Miss Nu told them to stop, but…"

Her little girl had done everything right, but still came to something wrong. They'd only protected themselves, but… It was still a fight, and encouraging that kind of behavior couldn't have been good. At least, from the eyes of a good parent it'd be that way.

Tsukiko felt a tug against her sleeve. There'd been a lull, and in that time Sachiko had hung her head.

"…Did I do something wrong, momma'?"

The pale woman paused. With a quiet and comforting smile, she ran a ruffling hand through her little girl's dark hair.

"Not at all, sweetie. Just, try not to hit them too hard next time, okay?"

Sachiko began to beam again, and that was all her mother could want.

"They weren't too hurt, were they?"

"Nuh-uh! I only hit them until they stopped hitting back. Like a knight!"

"Oh, goodness."

"Is that bad?"

"No, no. That's fine, but… Where did you learn that about knights?"

"I got it from your stories, momma'!"

There was almost pride in little Sachiko's face. She grinned, wide and giddy. Tsukiko paused, and tried her best to keep a warm smile.

"…Did you?"

"Mmhm! Uhm, uhm… In the forest, with the princess, and the guard, and the monsters? And they did all of the: 'whoosh', and 'bam'!"

"How nice."

"A-And, there was the thingie with the big rabbit! It was so cool…"

"I'm so happy to hear that, sweetie…"

It was like that for a while. At least, until they'd made it home.

They were in the apartment again. It was as messy as it'd been before, but Sachiko ran into it with a smile. Without a care, she slipped off her shoes and dropped her backpack against the floor, then dove face-first against the couch with a near-cuddle to its cushions. Tsukiko picked up and put away the discarded bag, found her way to the fridge, plucked out a cold ice pack from the freezer above, and went back to press it against her daughter's bruised cheek.

"Hold it there."

"Hm? Mmhm…"

The comfy little girl did so, and her mother wandered back to the kitchen.

"What do you want for lunch?"

"Uhm… Pizza?"

"We had pizza last night. No more for a week, okay?"

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"Oh! Okay, uhm, then…"

While she thought of an answer, Tsukiko glanced around. The dishes weren't done, and they had practically nothing at-hand to cook with in both the fridge and freezer. Preparing something fresh would have needed a trip to their local market, and it would've been easy, but…

After a moment of staring, she called out with a sigh, interrupting her little girl's mumbled thoughts.

"Sachiko?"

They sat up, leaning over the couch's backrest.

"Mmhm? Mmhm?"

She looked back with a half-smile.

"What kind of pizza do you want?"

Thirty minutes later, they sat at the kitchen table. It'd been cleared, and the open box of greasy cheesy goodness had been set at its center. While her little girl stuffed her face with one of those slices, topped with four kinds of meat and smothered in onions, Tsukiko sat in front of a large crystal slate. She typed away at the keyboard connected to it, stare narrowed in a tired focus at the text it read.

Still, for her, it was hard to keep engaged. She kept looking in the corner of her eye.

Sachiko was hurt, and the bruise wouldn't leave for a while. They'd been unlucky enough to inherit pale skin, so things like that tended to last.

It was part of a pattern.

First it was the fight, and how her mother's stories inspired her to do it. Then, it was the way her mother practically encouraged a repeat by not scolding her for the act. Then it was eating pizza, for the second night in a row, because her mother was too much of a shut-in to power through a grocery trip. Worse, even the night before, they'd had been so distracted with work that they'd passed out over their own desk until noon. What kind of person could ever leave that look for their little girl? God, something was wrong with that woman.

A cold, bitter, but humored smile marked Tsukiko's face. It left a pit in her chest.

She was a terrible mother.

Hours later, and it'd turned to night. Sachiko had been tucked into bed, and Tsukiko sat on the ground by her side. Unlike the rest of the house, that space in particular was clean and tidy. It was filled to the brim with posters of fantasy-themed animated shows, bookshelves lined with toys, and more than a few self-made drawings taped to the walls.

"Momma…?"

"What is it?"

"Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?"

"…I can't, sweetie. I have work to do."

"Mrm…"

The young woman glanced off to the side, and her daughter went silent. Not ten seconds later, Tsukiko couldn't help but sigh in defeat.

"…I'll stay."

"Yay!"

Sachiko squirmed with a grin, little excited kicks beneath her black sheets.

"Momma?"

"Mmhm?"

"Can you read me a bedtime story?"

"Oh. Uhm… sure. What would you like me to read?"

"Your stories, momma'!"

"…I don't think those are good for you."

"Huh?"

Her daughter's face grew a little pout, and their pitch-black eyes were practically whimpering. Faced with that sort of onslaught, it wasn't a surprise that her will broke like a twig. That was its own little pattern.

Tsukiko quietly laughed.

"Okay then. How would you feel… about a new one?"

"A new one?"

"Momma' has to write a lot for work, and sometimes she doesn't have time to do the ones she wants. Do you want to hear about those?"

"Mmhm! Mmhm!"

Sachiko had started to make a little too much noise, so her mother laid back and pinned those little kicking legs with their head. Just as quickly, that meant her little girl had a full head of black hair to play with that wasn't her own. A moment passed of that fun, their little smiles matched, until…

"Once upon a time, there was a little girl. She was short, and pale, and had eyes darker than the night sky. "

Tsukiko started slow, and quiet. Her daughter listened closely, even against the mention of a princess with pitch-black eyes.

"Her parents were farmers. They were the best at what they did: in a day, they could plant a hundred fields and tend to ten more. And someday, they wished for her to be one too."

The elf gently rubbed her hands together.

"But the little princess didn't want to be a farmer. She wanted to see the world, and explore, and sing, and make people laugh. So over the years, while the little girl grew into a young woman, she did her absolute best to make herself perfect for it."

"Was she good at singing?"

"Good enough. People would come from across the country to see her, and sometimes farther."

"Hm…"

"What is it?"

"…Was she just really, really, pretty?"

"That too."

She chuckled, and her daughter did the same. Her palms held tight together, and they stayed that way as she continued.

"Her parents didn't like the singing. They thought it was a waste of time, but it still gave them plenty of business, so they ignored it. Then one day, after putting on a show for her crowds…"

Tsukiko paused. Her dark eyes went dead, then settled on distant.

"…She met a prince."

"A prince?!"

"That's right. She met a prince from a foreign land, and he swept her off her feet."

"He sounds mean."

"He was. Well, at least a little, but underneath that there was some charm. He made her smile. They went on trips to icy mountains, and lakes of fire, and endless deserts, and cities built up into the clouds. They rode on rabbits the size of houses, and joined adventures on trips into the earth, and found treasures people once thought lost to time. Over days, and nights, and all sorts, he was there when they weren't, and so…"

She gestured outward, elven ears lowered.

"…She ran away with him, to another world entirely."

Sachiko practically shot up, ears perked high, though she didn't get far with her legs pinned. She had to settle for shuffling in place, since…

"And then?! And then?!"

Her mother had fallen into a distant trance.

…What kind of story was she telling?

A minute or so later, a little pair of arms wrapped around the dazed woman's shoulders. She snapped from the haze, and found her daughter wrapped tight in an embrace.

"…Sachiko?"

"Mommaaaa?"

"…What are you doing?"

"What momma's story told me to."

"Hm…?"

Sachiko nestled closer. Tsukiko laid a hand on her little wrist, but didn't dare to move her. The world went still, and the tired woman didn't bother to breathe.

A slow, soothing realization settled into her mind.

They were still there for each other, weren't they?

Tsukiko… laughed. Genuinely, and with just the slightest hint of a shake. Sachiko pulled back, confused, but was quickly pulled into a forehead-pressed kiss.

"Momma'?!"

"Hold still, would you?"

"Wha–?"

Then came ten more, and that poor girl couldn't resist.

"Too many! Too many!"

"Oh, no complaints. I told the story, didn't I sweetie?"

"But… I wanna hear the rest!"

"I'll tell you another night! Momma has a lot of work to do now."

"Mmrm…"

There came another pout, but that one was met with yet another smothering forehead kiss, which her little girl apparently started to dislike. Still, Tsukiko stood up, tucking her little Sachiko tighter into bed, and making her way to the door.

"I'll leave this open, okay? That way you can hear me. I'll still be here."

"What? What are you doing now?"

"Oh, well…"

Tsukiko grinned, halfway through the door frame.

"…I'm going to clean up a little."

With a 'good night', and a 'good night' back, the young mother left. Back to the living room, she stared out at the moonlit mess-filled interior. Notes, open books, tossed clothes, undone dishes… God. She had work to do, and it wouldn't be easy.

Tsukiko sighed, but it came with hope. No matter how heavy the weight, or how long it took, she would do better.

That girl deserved a good mother.