Post by zuyuri on Nov 23, 2023 23:31:41 GMT
Fall was an interesting time for working. The crowds could be abuzz or the shop would be totally dead safe for a few people. The holiday drinks always cropped up a few days before Thanksgiving, and that was even the biggest crowds erupted. Thanksgiving was also a few days away, meaning people had either left Metropolis or were coming in for the holiday.
Zuko was in the back, stocking on the holiday flavored syrups. The shelves smelled of spices and mint and sugar. Normally, it would be magical, but now it was just a chore.
The bell jingled overhead, signaling a customer. The barista in front greeted them, and Zuko almost dropped a bottle of gingerbread syrup as he recognized the customer’s voice.
Cinder. His mother. No, his tormenter and jailer.
Of all the places to go and get a coffee, why here? His fists began shaking uncontrollably. The world spun. Ever since his nasty burn, his vision had been askew, but now he was unable to focus on anything to right himself. All he saw were vague flashes of color and light.
It had been around this week too. Not on actual Thanksgiving Day. That day had been spent in some of the worst pain he had ever experienced.
_
“Young man, where have you been?!”
“Out.” He glared at her. While he couldn’t make the flame eyeliner like his mother, he could still feel the heat. He had been simply listening to poetry at a coffee house. No money required, unless you wanted a drink.
“If you were at that theatre again…”
“You’ll what? Make it look like an accident? They know what you’ve been doing, Cinder.” Mom was no longer in his vocabulary. She was a stranger. A security guard. The small town she claimed to have saved? She burned it to the ground. She had said on the news it had been an accident. Someone was getting away, and her fire was out of control. When she had come home that night, she had looked pleased.
That was the first time Zuko saw the true visage of his mother.
She had been habitually taking away his things that she had found amongst her own, leading to small bickers that ended with either him or her storming out of the room. The journal written in her son’s angry scrawl had been burned to ash “accidentally”. The book he had been reading when she was out earning the money needed to keep the room in the Slipper was “mysteriously stolen….” Until a corner of a page turned up with a black edge under his mattress.
Cinder’s lips tightened. “It’s making you soft, ZuZu,” The motherly way she spoke was edged with venom.
He clenched his teeth and gripped the table. Smoke was rising from his fingertips, and when he let go, small black grooves were left behind. “No. They’re giving me an escape from this place!”
“Don’t you dare raise your voice at me! You’re still young, going through a phase.”
“And what about your phase?”
“What I do is to protect you. Your father left us. I’m the sole breadwinner here. Yes, you make tips, but it’s only a scratch on the price of our room here.”
Zuko glared at her. Saying nothing, he shouldered past Cinder to the door of their hotel room. Saying nothing, he yanked the door open and stormed down the hall to the lobby. He slumped in one of the faux velvet chairs and stared blankly at the overhead TV. News reports flashed of crime, and how some heroes saved the day, occasionally broken apart by ads. It was familiar, but far more comforting.
The next day Cinder had been called for duty. Zuko would be home alone for a while. Good. He left their room and spent his money - both the tips Cinder would take from along with his own secret hoard - he had made that week on what he called luxury. The priciest burger at Speedy’s; correction, the whole meal. The best seat in a movie theatre with the popcorn and soda combination he only bought when he had his own money. And for dessert, quite literally, a hot fudge sundae.
When he got back to the Slipper, the first thing on his mind was a warm shower. But as he was leaving the bathroom and dressing, he felt the temperature had risen. It was then that he saw it on the TV screen.
The small town was on fire. No, parts of it were, in small controlled blazes. Standing over them, her hands shooting fire, was Cinder.
Zuko froze. Superheroes were supposed to save the day. All his life, Cinder had said she was stopping the villains. This image was nothing like that. This was murder. This is was bloodshed. This was…
The latch opened behind him. Cinder strutted into the room, dusting her hands. Zuko stared at her with a widened mouth and hands to his sides, his golden eyes big with terror.
“Cind…Mom…I thought ”
Cinder looked at him. “Not now, Zuzu. Mommy’s tired from a long day of…”
“No!”
Cinder pivoted on her black heels. An eyebrow arched. “Excuse me?”
“Not until you explain to me why you burned an entire town! There are people who are hurt, even dead! And don’t act you don’t know what I’m talking about.” Zuko pointed to the TV.
Cinder followed where he pointed. A play by play of the event flashed. Before it could even show the footage of her, she pressed the power off. The image faded away to a white line, then to black.
“You can’t cover this up!” Zuko objected, “There are witnesses!”
Cinder’s eyes flashed. Her voice was deliberately slow; the cold counterbalance to her fire powers. “Sometimes, fights lead to collateral damage, Zuko. I didn’t want to burn the town, but there were too many at once.”
Zuko shrank away. “There had to be another way!”
Cinder sighed. “You’ll understand when you’re a hero yourself. The bad guys are locked away.”
Zuko glared at her. “Not all the bad guys.”
For a moment, Cinder’s confident pose shattered. After a few seconds, she righted herself and walked over to Zuko. Her hand grazed the left side of his face affectionately.
“Such a good boy,” she purred. That was when her eyes narrowed. Her golden irises began glowing a bright yellow. Small tiny flames flared in the corners. “Too bad you outgrew your respect.”
The loving caress of a mother resting her palm against him turned hot. Scalding. No, worse than scalding. The pain of the fire searing his eye was enough for Zuko to scream. His entire left eye couldn’t open against the pressure. After what felt like centuries, Cinder lowered her hand and the fire cooled. The anger in her face was replaced with disappointment.
Now Zuko had the freedom to run. He pushed past her, clutching the left side of his face. It didn’t matter where he went. All that mattered was getting seat from Cinder. The door banged open. He fled down the hall. He turned a corner so fast, that he accidentally bumped into a guest checking in. Judging from how loudly the girl screamed, he knew it was bad. “Mom! Call an ambulance!”
After the strangers put in word of his injury, Zuko was ushered to the lobby with a literal bag of ice pressed to the left side of his face. Doctors hovered over him like bees, replacing the ice bag with gauze and a sticky ointment that was cool to the touch and smelled medicinal.
“Who did this to you?”
It was a question asked over and over, and the answer Zuko wanted to give was stuck in his throat. He wanted to say that his mother did it, but who would believe that a superhero was abusing her own son? All he could say was he was attacked and got away before the burn could get worse.
A large, white patch was applied over one eye. The doctors said it would take a little over a week to heal. Zuko kept it on, but refused to go back to the room where he knew Cinder was waiting. The only feeling he had left for her was hate.
_
The bell rang again, snapping Zuko back to the present day. The smell of coffee. He was at work. Cinder was gone. Uncle had invited him over for Thanksgiving dinner. As for his classmates, who knew what they were up to?
He reached up and touched the left side of his face. The raised skin was still there. The scar Cinder had left behind. One thing to be thankful for, was he had the courage to run away.
Zuko was in the back, stocking on the holiday flavored syrups. The shelves smelled of spices and mint and sugar. Normally, it would be magical, but now it was just a chore.
The bell jingled overhead, signaling a customer. The barista in front greeted them, and Zuko almost dropped a bottle of gingerbread syrup as he recognized the customer’s voice.
Cinder. His mother. No, his tormenter and jailer.
Of all the places to go and get a coffee, why here? His fists began shaking uncontrollably. The world spun. Ever since his nasty burn, his vision had been askew, but now he was unable to focus on anything to right himself. All he saw were vague flashes of color and light.
It had been around this week too. Not on actual Thanksgiving Day. That day had been spent in some of the worst pain he had ever experienced.
_
“Young man, where have you been?!”
“Out.” He glared at her. While he couldn’t make the flame eyeliner like his mother, he could still feel the heat. He had been simply listening to poetry at a coffee house. No money required, unless you wanted a drink.
“If you were at that theatre again…”
“You’ll what? Make it look like an accident? They know what you’ve been doing, Cinder.” Mom was no longer in his vocabulary. She was a stranger. A security guard. The small town she claimed to have saved? She burned it to the ground. She had said on the news it had been an accident. Someone was getting away, and her fire was out of control. When she had come home that night, she had looked pleased.
That was the first time Zuko saw the true visage of his mother.
She had been habitually taking away his things that she had found amongst her own, leading to small bickers that ended with either him or her storming out of the room. The journal written in her son’s angry scrawl had been burned to ash “accidentally”. The book he had been reading when she was out earning the money needed to keep the room in the Slipper was “mysteriously stolen….” Until a corner of a page turned up with a black edge under his mattress.
Cinder’s lips tightened. “It’s making you soft, ZuZu,” The motherly way she spoke was edged with venom.
He clenched his teeth and gripped the table. Smoke was rising from his fingertips, and when he let go, small black grooves were left behind. “No. They’re giving me an escape from this place!”
“Don’t you dare raise your voice at me! You’re still young, going through a phase.”
“And what about your phase?”
“What I do is to protect you. Your father left us. I’m the sole breadwinner here. Yes, you make tips, but it’s only a scratch on the price of our room here.”
Zuko glared at her. Saying nothing, he shouldered past Cinder to the door of their hotel room. Saying nothing, he yanked the door open and stormed down the hall to the lobby. He slumped in one of the faux velvet chairs and stared blankly at the overhead TV. News reports flashed of crime, and how some heroes saved the day, occasionally broken apart by ads. It was familiar, but far more comforting.
The next day Cinder had been called for duty. Zuko would be home alone for a while. Good. He left their room and spent his money - both the tips Cinder would take from along with his own secret hoard - he had made that week on what he called luxury. The priciest burger at Speedy’s; correction, the whole meal. The best seat in a movie theatre with the popcorn and soda combination he only bought when he had his own money. And for dessert, quite literally, a hot fudge sundae.
When he got back to the Slipper, the first thing on his mind was a warm shower. But as he was leaving the bathroom and dressing, he felt the temperature had risen. It was then that he saw it on the TV screen.
The small town was on fire. No, parts of it were, in small controlled blazes. Standing over them, her hands shooting fire, was Cinder.
Zuko froze. Superheroes were supposed to save the day. All his life, Cinder had said she was stopping the villains. This image was nothing like that. This was murder. This is was bloodshed. This was…
The latch opened behind him. Cinder strutted into the room, dusting her hands. Zuko stared at her with a widened mouth and hands to his sides, his golden eyes big with terror.
“Cind…Mom…I thought ”
Cinder looked at him. “Not now, Zuzu. Mommy’s tired from a long day of…”
“No!”
Cinder pivoted on her black heels. An eyebrow arched. “Excuse me?”
“Not until you explain to me why you burned an entire town! There are people who are hurt, even dead! And don’t act you don’t know what I’m talking about.” Zuko pointed to the TV.
Cinder followed where he pointed. A play by play of the event flashed. Before it could even show the footage of her, she pressed the power off. The image faded away to a white line, then to black.
“You can’t cover this up!” Zuko objected, “There are witnesses!”
Cinder’s eyes flashed. Her voice was deliberately slow; the cold counterbalance to her fire powers. “Sometimes, fights lead to collateral damage, Zuko. I didn’t want to burn the town, but there were too many at once.”
Zuko shrank away. “There had to be another way!”
Cinder sighed. “You’ll understand when you’re a hero yourself. The bad guys are locked away.”
Zuko glared at her. “Not all the bad guys.”
For a moment, Cinder’s confident pose shattered. After a few seconds, she righted herself and walked over to Zuko. Her hand grazed the left side of his face affectionately.
“Such a good boy,” she purred. That was when her eyes narrowed. Her golden irises began glowing a bright yellow. Small tiny flames flared in the corners. “Too bad you outgrew your respect.”
The loving caress of a mother resting her palm against him turned hot. Scalding. No, worse than scalding. The pain of the fire searing his eye was enough for Zuko to scream. His entire left eye couldn’t open against the pressure. After what felt like centuries, Cinder lowered her hand and the fire cooled. The anger in her face was replaced with disappointment.
Now Zuko had the freedom to run. He pushed past her, clutching the left side of his face. It didn’t matter where he went. All that mattered was getting seat from Cinder. The door banged open. He fled down the hall. He turned a corner so fast, that he accidentally bumped into a guest checking in. Judging from how loudly the girl screamed, he knew it was bad. “Mom! Call an ambulance!”
After the strangers put in word of his injury, Zuko was ushered to the lobby with a literal bag of ice pressed to the left side of his face. Doctors hovered over him like bees, replacing the ice bag with gauze and a sticky ointment that was cool to the touch and smelled medicinal.
“Who did this to you?”
It was a question asked over and over, and the answer Zuko wanted to give was stuck in his throat. He wanted to say that his mother did it, but who would believe that a superhero was abusing her own son? All he could say was he was attacked and got away before the burn could get worse.
A large, white patch was applied over one eye. The doctors said it would take a little over a week to heal. Zuko kept it on, but refused to go back to the room where he knew Cinder was waiting. The only feeling he had left for her was hate.
_
The bell rang again, snapping Zuko back to the present day. The smell of coffee. He was at work. Cinder was gone. Uncle had invited him over for Thanksgiving dinner. As for his classmates, who knew what they were up to?
He reached up and touched the left side of his face. The raised skin was still there. The scar Cinder had left behind. One thing to be thankful for, was he had the courage to run away.