Fashion. I have a love-hate relationship with that word. I have mixed feelings about the concept as a whole. In my old life, back when I was a man, I never gave it much thought. I would wake up, pick up what was on the floor or in my closet, and toss it on. No one judged, that I knew of, or really cared about how I looked. It wasn’t hard to co off as passable to those around .
Now, things are different. How so? Well, it’s simple. I’ve started to care. Growing up in this new world as Luna, I also haven’t had to put much thought into what I wear. The reason being, my mother was there to help pick out my outfits and show what to wear, and what she chose really resonated with .
It made realize just how damn cute I can be, and I wanted to try to stay looking cute. Nowadays, however, my mother isn’t around to help get dressed. I needed to learn for myself how to dress well, find a style I like, and perhaps stick with it. Of course, I haven’t been alone in this endeavor. Isa had given so tips, and while her fit is good, she tended to dress far more practically. Her clothes were always made to fit well, but not so tight as to restrict her movent, and nothing about them gave off a pretty flare.
Not that Isa isn’t pretty, heavens now, she’s downright gorgeous. Thing is, I don’t want to dress like I’m about to head off on so sorta grand adventure. The gods know I’ve already had my fill of that this lifeti.
My father also offered his own ideas. Having been with my mother and his sister, yeah, that was a shock to too, I never knew I had another aunt. Father never really spoke much of his upbringing, save for what happened to his mother. Nevertheless, Dad apparently had extensive experience with feminine clothing.
Despite all of that, I don’t ever want his opinions on what I should wear. Turns out, his “experience” dates back so seventy years. His idea of “fashion” is far too outdated for my tastes.
So, the last person to co to my aid turned out to be pretty valuable. It was none other than my best friend, Anne.
“Don’t even think about it,” Anne said flatly.
I froze, my hand still holding the hanger that held my favorite dress. “Wh-what’s wrong with my casual black?” I asked, shaking the hanger in protest. I looked to where I kept my caster perched against the bookshelf, angled so that Anne could see at my closet.
From the small picture glass, I could faintly see Anne’s scrunched-up face as she held it close. Her eyes narrowed on . “Luna, darling,” she said in Maurich, the language I knew best. She shook her head. “Do you have any idea how hot it’s going to be outside? It’s going to reach twenty-five alrs today.”
I blinked. That’s roughly eighty degrees in freedom units. Damn, it is going to get hot today. I looked longingly at the dress. It was dark, mostly black and white, made up of a long-sleeved dark blouse and a flowing black skirt. The material was thick yet very flexible and soft on the skin, and it clung well, too. Though, as I thought more on it, Anne was right: the material would cook alive within minutes of going outside.
“Why not go for sothing lighter, do have anything made of silweave?” She asked, and I cringed. “That stuff is soft, light, and very breathable.”
“Anne, my Papa makes good money,” I said, chuckling and shaking my head. “But he isn’t that wealthy.”
She shrugged. “I could always lend you so of my clothes, but…” She squinted at , or really, she was looking at a specific part of .
I glanced down, and realization struck, and my face flushed. I yelped and spun away from Anne. “He-hey! Stop staring!”
“What?!” Anne squeaked. “I was trying to guess your size!”
“Why?” I asked, stepping behind my closet door to break the line of sight.
“Because, I need to know if my blouse and shirts could fit, because… y’know.”
“Yeah, I know.” I huffed, cheeks burning. “I doubt it,” I said, self-conscious. “I can barely fit most of my own shirts.”
I heard Anne whistle. “Lucky,” She said, and my cheeks burned hotter.
“I-I wouldn’t say that, it’s annoying!” I barked.
Anne snickered. “I bet, but there’s nothing to be flustered over. Honestly, girl, if I were you I’d be wanting show off.”
“Anne!” I squealed and sank beneath the door.
“Whaaat~?” She teased. “I’m not talking about showing off, like how you might be thinking. I’m talking about… I think I see sothing in your closet that might help you express yourself.”
“I don’t want to show my chest off,” I declared and stood back up. “I just wanna, look cute.”
“But why cute, when you can look hot?” Anne teased.
I took a deep breath and sighed as I stepped out from behind the door. “No,” I said, but smiled faintly, my cheeks still burning a little.
I would be lying if I said the idea wasn’t tempting, but there were things I knew that Anne didn’t. That being said, my father. Already, Dad’s idea of fashion was a bit dated, but he’s also beco very protective of both Varis and . For obvious reasons, of course, surviving a war and all.
Since last year, when my first period ca and went, that protection, specifically towards . Ramped up greatly. I rember those old jokes and s back in my old life about the overprotective Dad and their daughter. Well, my father, Slyran Ashflow, was the living definition of such.
If he saw trying to look anything more than just “cute,” he’d think I was trying to attract so boys or girls. This would set him off. A few tis, I’ve worn sothing that showed off a bit too much skin, had him moaning nonstop about how I was “growing up too fast” or, “if I see you with anyone else I don’t know…”
It’s never gone anywhere past that, and hearing him constantly moan and groan is grating. Besides, even I’m not entirely emotionally ready for anything like dating. I have a few more years before I’m officially considered “adult,” which at that point I could give a damn what father thinks.
But alas, I can’t help but feel a bit for the man. So I’ll humor him a bit longer.
Anne finally backed off, and I began to relax. “Okay, okay, but I still think we can show off sothing, but let's keep a bit on the downlow.”
“How so?” I asked, my shoulders tensing.
Anne smiled deviously. “Do you have that dress I got for you your last birthday?”
“Oi, Luna!” Varis bood from below, and I jolted; he sounded way too much like father nowadays. It was like overnight, it seed like. One day, he sounded like his cheerful, childlike self, then suddenly his tone dropped by like five octaves.
I spun to look toward the door and called out, “I’m still dressing!”
“It’s been nearly twenty minutes, c’mon!”
“I said hold on!” I huffed and spun back toward the mirror and looked at myself. My cheeks were burning brightly, and my eyes darted from my face to the reflection of the caster behind . On it, I could see Anne smiling impishly.
I swallowed a lump in my throat and said, “I don’t think this will work.”
“No, no,” Anne said, her smile broadening. “No backing down now, Missy. I heard Varis, we’ve been at this for twenty minutes, do you want to hold them up any longer?”
I whirled around to face the caster, my heart thumping heavily in my chest. “Anne, my Dad will go nuts. You rember how he was at the party, right?”
“Luna, you’re barely showing anything,” Anne said reassuringly. “It’s just a bit of shoulders and your upper chest.”
I bit my inner cheek. “That’s more than what I normally show…” I grumbled.
Anne sighed. “Luna, if it makes you feel better. You can wear that cloak to go with it.”
I frowned. “Then what’s the point of wearing the dress if I’ll just cover it?”
Anne gave a flat look. “Well, the weather is unpredictable, mostly. So having sothing to quickly cover yourself is nice.” She crossed her arms. “Now, either you can accept my suggestion. Or, face the wrath that is your brother who will most likely kick in your door in the next few minutes.”
I gulped nervously once more and looked at the mirror. Anne was right, and they did make a point; the cloak is there if I feel too exposed. The dress itself honestly wasn’t that revealing, nor was it anything scandalous. It was like a halter dress, made of a thin yet comfortable black fabric that clung to , with a collar around my neck. My shoulders and upper chest were exposed, whereas the rest of the outfit clung to my form beautifully, almost as if it were a second skin. The skirt itself was loose and went down just past my knees, and was even slitted partly on one side, in case I ever planned on mounting a strider, not that I ever intended to, so mobility was very easy.
Overall, it was a simple outfit. It was just a bit… open, compared to what I used to wear. I hadn’t thought I’d be so reserved about this until actually putting the darned thing on. Once I tightened the waistline to be a bit more comfortable, I looked myself over in the mirror once more and blushed deeply. Thankfully, the open front on the dress wasn’t deep enough to reveal anything indecent, but the idea of going outside dressed like this was… honestly exhilarating.
“Luna, don’t forget the gemstone!” Anne said, “The blue chroma that ca with it.”
My eyes widened briefly. “Oh, yeah, you’re right.” I turned back to my closet and opened it. Inside were not only my dresses but also a dresser, containing many of the accessories that went with them. Digging through it, I took out the small wooden box Anne had given to for my eleventh birthday and opened it.
Inside was a beautiful, round chroma gem. It was a blue gem, kind of like a sapphire, polished and cut into a do, that could fit perfectly into the collar of the dress at my neck. A pretty flourish to top off the outfit. Seeing it now, as I moved back in front of the mirror, reminded of just how much I looked like my mother. She, too, always carried a similar gem around with her.
Which is probably why Anne got this for you, silly. I thought, took a deep breath, and smiled.
“I love it,” I said, and looked to the caster. “Thank you, Anne.” I blushed. “It’s, different, but I think this will work out.”
Anne giggled. “It’s all about getting out of your comfort zone, Luna. When we et up again, I’ll be sure to take you out shopping, then, we can really try on so wild stuff.”
My eyes widened. “I-I don’t know about wild stuff,” I said and giggled alongside her.
“Luna!” Father’s voice bood, and this ti I nearly hit the ceiling.
“I’m finishing up!” I yelled down. “Just a minute.”
“Thirty seconds!” He responded.
I spun toward Anne. “Okay, I need to go, he’s taking out the drill sergeant voice.”
Anne giggled once more and said her goodbyes as I closed the caster.
The last few things I tended to do were pulling on a pair of stockings and boots before rushing out the door. I nearly tripped as I hopped down the hall, pulling my right boot on all the way before reaching the end and rounding the stairs.
Down below, I could hear the two n in the house grumbling. “Gods, she might be worse than her mother,” My father sighed.
Varis chuckled. “Well, it’s like what they say, ‘like mother like daughter.’ ain’t that right, Pa?”
I rounded the stairs and stepped into the living room. There, I could see both of them, almost identical clones, sitting in the armchairs near the fire, newspapers in hand. It was common for to catch the two of them doing it every morning after chores were done, whenever there were any to do, that is.
I cleared my throat, and both of them jerked and looked over to . “I’m ready,” I said flatly, as I eyed each of them.
Near, exact clones. I couldn’t stop noticing. Save for Varis’s multicolored eyes, one being green, the other blue, he looked like just a smaller version of our father. He was even growing a matching goatee, though it was mostly just patchy hairs. Which, honestly, looked pretty bad, but he kept refusing to shave it, as he’d end up looking like a “kid” again, or so he claid.
“How many did you find no longer fit this ti?” Varis asked with a smirk.
“Oh shut up,” I glared at him. “I was talking with Anne, she was helping find sothing to wear.”
Varis nodded and paused as he took a mont to look over. Seeing his eyes wander over , I bit my lip and pulled the cloak a bit tighter around . “I’m trying sothing new,” I said, “Anne said it’s hot today, so I wanted to try sothing lighter.”
“Sothing new?” Father grumbled as he folded his paper and stood up. “I’ll be a judge.”
“I’d rather you didn’t,” I said. “No offense, father, but your tastes on what’s ‘good’ is a bit outdated.”
Father snorted. “Fashion hasn’t really changed in the past forty years, I doubt my opinion no longer holds water.” he turned to look at . “So, what’re you hiding under the cloak?” He asked.
I could feel the burning of my cheeks beginning to return. I shifted from foot to foot. “I-I’m wearing the outfit Anne got for last year,” I mumbled, almost expecting an outburst to co, but none ever did.
Instead, both n simply looked at blankly and said nothing.
I frowned. “You know,” I said, “The one she got that made you almost go crazy?” I prompted, but again the two n shared a look, then looked at without expression.
“Any idea what she is going on about, Pa?” Varis asked.
Father slowly shook his head. “Not a thing, son.”
I gawked. “You’re kidding ? Really?”
“Ain’t no bells ringing, Luna,” Father said with a shrug.
My jaw fell open. “You made such a huge deal out of it… and…” I closed my eyes and sighed. “Whatever.” I threw the cloak back, allowing them a view of the outfit I had spent nearly half an hour anxiously going over with Anne.
My dad’s eyes widened, and so did my brother's.
“This is what I’m trying on,” I said, the nervous edge returning. “Anne got this, and she said it would be comfortable to wear since it’s so hot outside.”
Varis stood up from his seat and set his paper down as he stepped toward . “Luna, you look… Different, honestly, you look a lot like, Momma.”
I stepped back a bit from Varis as he ca to a halt and towered over from about an arm's reach away. He had gotten so tall as of late. I pulled the cloak back around myself. “Really?” I asked.
Father cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’d say you do,” He said and stepped around his chair and began walking toward the kitchen toward the rear of the house. “Though, that isn’t surprising as both of you take a lot after her!” He called as he disappeared past the door fra.
I blinked and looked up at Varis, who simply looked over again and smiled. “I think you look really good, sis, though, I think you missed sothing.”
I frowned. “Wh-what?”
Varis reached out, and I flinched as he tussled my hair. “You forgot to brush your ss of a head.” He laughed, then patted and followed Father into the kitchen.
I blushed deeply and reached a hand up to my head, and dammit. He was right, I did actually forget to brush my hair. I frowned and looked to the kitchen.
Why did Pa rush away as he did? He hardly even comnted on the dress…
How many had to suffer? Hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions? To you, they’re just numbers; statistics that you used to calculate. But to , I was there, I’ve seen the faces that belonged to those numbers.
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