Chapter 6 - The Family
Nobody could believe their eyes. They had all expected to se Breeze standing there, grey hair, cat-like ears, deadly scorpion-like tail. But Breeze looked exactly like any normal human being. Asian—Chinese, Taiwanese, it was hard to tell which. Raven black hair only flowed past her shoulders, all the muscles were gone, and the eyes were brown, instead of blue-green.
"So." She said. "Aren't you going to come in? Or are you going to be standing on the front porch for the remainder of the day?"
Silently, all four X-Men stepped into the house. Mrs. Chan closed the door quickly behind them.
"Well." She finally said, pressing her thin lips together. "I suppose since you are Shamira's guests, I will have to be civil. Would you like anything to drink? Tea? Coffee?"
"Uh...water would be just fine for all of us." Wolverine said quickly. Bobby and Rogue gave each other questioning looks. Shamira?
"I'll come and help." Galahad offered, scurrying away after Mrs. Chan.
"Galahad is really something isn't he?" Shamira commented as she led them into the living room, closing the door softly behind her. "A heart of gold, he's certainly got that."
Wolverine was the only one that remained standing as everyone else took a seat. "But, you're not..."
"Breeze?" Suddenly, the brown eyes began to shift to a blue-green hue. The black hair gracefully swept down to waist length, turning silvery grey. Cat ears poked their way out of the top of her head. The tail suddenly swept into view, swinging freely from side to side. The muscles, the armour, everything was back.
Wolverine sat down on the couch. Hard. "I should have known you were a shape-shifter."
"Breeze. Shamira. I'm one in the same." The girl said simply. "Breeze...let's just say it is my alias name that stuck like glue." Within a few seconds, the black hair girl returned.
"This...is what I would have looked like." Shamira said softly, looking at her hands. "If I was...normal. I'm glad that I inherited my mother's looks."
"What about your father?" Bobby asked absentmindedly.
"He didn't mean any harm." Rogue said quickly as a dark cloud passed over Sharmira's face. "If you don't want to answer that question, don't."
"It's alright." Shamira said finally. "My grandmother, she's one of the strongest people I know. Her husband, my grandfather died, leaving her to raise three teenagers, two daughters and a son. The youngest was the son, my uncle. He was the only one that really made it in the real world, so to speak. He went on to a good University, became a successful lawyer, got married, and had a family. They visit now, every Christmas and the first two weeks of every summer. He was the baby of the family, he never forgot his roots."
"Galahad's mother, my aunt, was the middle child." Shamira continued. "Some reason, she was the rebel all her life. Met some pot dealer or somebody like that. Spat out Galahad, then ran off with that guy, leaving my grandmother to take care of him."
"What about your mother?"
"She met my father after she graduated college. They fell in love, had me, even talked about marriage I imagine, even though my father was a good several years older. I guess, somehow he must have known that I was a mutant, or something like that, because he split when I was several months old. My mother raised me by herself—until she died of a broken heart when I was three. Ever since then, my grandma's taken care of the two of us. By herself."
The silence that filled the room soon became suffocating. Nobody knew what to say to the young girl of sixteen or seventeen, who had seemed to have been forced to grow up and shed all of her innocence overnight.
"Well." Wolverine said at last. "We have this place in New York...it's called the Xavier Institute for the Gifted."
A small smile appeared on Breeze's face. "A place, for people like us?"
"Yes, for you and me. Where we're safe from the outside world. A place where we can be ourselves, and not be afraid. Professor Xavier runs the institute, and he helps all of us deal with and control our powers." Not as if she needed any of that. Wolverine added silently to himself. "A lot of his students have gone out into the outside world as educated young people, and some choose to stay behind and teach future generations."
"She is not going."
Everybody turned at the quiet but firm voice. Mrs. Chan was standing in the doorway, a tray of water glasses in her hands. She looked worn out and defeated all at once. Wolverine hadn't even heard her enter the room.
"She can't go with you." Mrs. Chan said again. "Thank you for your offer, but she cannot go to your school. Not to New York."
"I must go Grandma." Breeze said softly.
"What did you say?"
Breeze bit her lip and stared at the carpet. "I must go. It's the best possibility for me, and for everyone."
"Why, why does it have to be?"
"It just has." Breeze's gaze never left the carpet. "We've already discussed this before, grandma. I must go. Please don't stop me."
Mrs. Chan pursed her lips together once again. Her shoulders sank even further, like the weight of the world was suddenly being borne on her shoulders. "Then, please just let her stay until tomorrow, so we can say goodbye."
Nobody could believe their eyes. They had all expected to se Breeze standing there, grey hair, cat-like ears, deadly scorpion-like tail. But Breeze looked exactly like any normal human being. Asian—Chinese, Taiwanese, it was hard to tell which. Raven black hair only flowed past her shoulders, all the muscles were gone, and the eyes were brown, instead of blue-green.
"So." She said. "Aren't you going to come in? Or are you going to be standing on the front porch for the remainder of the day?"
Silently, all four X-Men stepped into the house. Mrs. Chan closed the door quickly behind them.
"Well." She finally said, pressing her thin lips together. "I suppose since you are Shamira's guests, I will have to be civil. Would you like anything to drink? Tea? Coffee?"
"Uh...water would be just fine for all of us." Wolverine said quickly. Bobby and Rogue gave each other questioning looks. Shamira?
"I'll come and help." Galahad offered, scurrying away after Mrs. Chan.
"Galahad is really something isn't he?" Shamira commented as she led them into the living room, closing the door softly behind her. "A heart of gold, he's certainly got that."
Wolverine was the only one that remained standing as everyone else took a seat. "But, you're not..."
"Breeze?" Suddenly, the brown eyes began to shift to a blue-green hue. The black hair gracefully swept down to waist length, turning silvery grey. Cat ears poked their way out of the top of her head. The tail suddenly swept into view, swinging freely from side to side. The muscles, the armour, everything was back.
Wolverine sat down on the couch. Hard. "I should have known you were a shape-shifter."
"Breeze. Shamira. I'm one in the same." The girl said simply. "Breeze...let's just say it is my alias name that stuck like glue." Within a few seconds, the black hair girl returned.
"This...is what I would have looked like." Shamira said softly, looking at her hands. "If I was...normal. I'm glad that I inherited my mother's looks."
"What about your father?" Bobby asked absentmindedly.
"He didn't mean any harm." Rogue said quickly as a dark cloud passed over Sharmira's face. "If you don't want to answer that question, don't."
"It's alright." Shamira said finally. "My grandmother, she's one of the strongest people I know. Her husband, my grandfather died, leaving her to raise three teenagers, two daughters and a son. The youngest was the son, my uncle. He was the only one that really made it in the real world, so to speak. He went on to a good University, became a successful lawyer, got married, and had a family. They visit now, every Christmas and the first two weeks of every summer. He was the baby of the family, he never forgot his roots."
"Galahad's mother, my aunt, was the middle child." Shamira continued. "Some reason, she was the rebel all her life. Met some pot dealer or somebody like that. Spat out Galahad, then ran off with that guy, leaving my grandmother to take care of him."
"What about your mother?"
"She met my father after she graduated college. They fell in love, had me, even talked about marriage I imagine, even though my father was a good several years older. I guess, somehow he must have known that I was a mutant, or something like that, because he split when I was several months old. My mother raised me by herself—until she died of a broken heart when I was three. Ever since then, my grandma's taken care of the two of us. By herself."
The silence that filled the room soon became suffocating. Nobody knew what to say to the young girl of sixteen or seventeen, who had seemed to have been forced to grow up and shed all of her innocence overnight.
"Well." Wolverine said at last. "We have this place in New York...it's called the Xavier Institute for the Gifted."
A small smile appeared on Breeze's face. "A place, for people like us?"
"Yes, for you and me. Where we're safe from the outside world. A place where we can be ourselves, and not be afraid. Professor Xavier runs the institute, and he helps all of us deal with and control our powers." Not as if she needed any of that. Wolverine added silently to himself. "A lot of his students have gone out into the outside world as educated young people, and some choose to stay behind and teach future generations."
"She is not going."
Everybody turned at the quiet but firm voice. Mrs. Chan was standing in the doorway, a tray of water glasses in her hands. She looked worn out and defeated all at once. Wolverine hadn't even heard her enter the room.
"She can't go with you." Mrs. Chan said again. "Thank you for your offer, but she cannot go to your school. Not to New York."
"I must go Grandma." Breeze said softly.
"What did you say?"
Breeze bit her lip and stared at the carpet. "I must go. It's the best possibility for me, and for everyone."
"Why, why does it have to be?"
"It just has." Breeze's gaze never left the carpet. "We've already discussed this before, grandma. I must go. Please don't stop me."
Mrs. Chan pursed her lips together once again. Her shoulders sank even further, like the weight of the world was suddenly being borne on her shoulders. "Then, please just let her stay until tomorrow, so we can say goodbye."