Primitive Future
It made a mess of things, the fastest girl to hit puberty in the history of human evolution, and, oh, she knew this feeling, she remembered this from her previous transformation, from Wiseman's whispered promises, but this time, it was for honest reasons, wasn't it? This time surely it was because of her dreams? The smile she tried to keep faltered. It wasn't, she knew it wasn't. If this feeling had been the reward of the honesty of her feelings, then why had Bunny been transformed also? Not that it mattered, Bunny was still Bunny, and no matter how small she became, no matter how young she was now, Darien's feelings for her clearly had not changed, he still loved her just as much as he always had—and he still looked at Rini as if she was a child, regardless of her appearance.
She hated it, she thought, hated seeing her there curled up in his arms as she slept, her reduced size no larger than Rini had been when she first arrived in the 20th century, his affection for her no less diminished by the reduction of her form. She looked like his pet, she thought with disgust, his plaything, his toy. She hated it.
On some level, she understood that Bunny and Darien were her parents, and she knew that this endless rivalry she felt with Bunny was pointless, just as pointless as her desire to make Darien think of her differently, to consider her a woman, and yet still she went out of her way to try to attract his attention.
The absence of those qualities she so readily associated with her mother—her patience, his calmness, her very serenity—made it easier to treat Bunny as someone else, as an entity distinct, yet Darien seemed to embody all that she admired most in her father—his gentleness, his kindness, his passion—and it only made her want his attention more.
Her face flushed with embarrassment, she felt a sudden, glowing warmth, and she fidgeted, feeling the prickles of pins and needles in her limbs. She still didn't understand this body. It had been different when Wiseman had transformed her into the Black Moon Clan's Black Lady, then all she had felt was the rage and despair amplified ten thousand-fold, now, however, after the curse that had befallen them during their brief confrontation with the tiger—that moment when the dark veil had fallen over the crossroads of Azabu-Juban—she had been left to her own devices, left to learn what it was that her body needed, what it was that her aching limbs and restless gestures were trying to express.
Tentatively, she placed her hand between her legs, pushing down against the folds of her shorts, feeling the warmth beneath, and then quickly pulled away, feeling suddenly even more restless, even more weary.
It was stupid. What was the point in growing up if you didn't know how to grow up? Was this what it was like for everyone, was this what had happened with Bunny, with Darien, even? Or was it gradual for them, were the years she had skipped somehow important in helping formulate a response to desire?
She moved her hand, her arm dropping to her side, and she crossed her legs one way, then crossed them another, unhappily watching Darien as he slept, the tiny shape of Bunny's transformed essence curled up beside him.
It made a mess of things, she thought once more; the fastest girl to hit puberty in the history of human evolution.