Six-year old Ruby slumped forward and pouted, until her mom crouched face-to-face with her. They had similar sharp chins and the same slant to their noses.

However, one feature above all else linking them was their identical eye-color, never more apparent to each other than in moments like these.

The train station's boarding platform smelled of combustion dust and people's mixed perfumes. Lights angled from the ceiling and from a hundred shining advertisement screens, framing the Roses' cheeks with silver-white.

Ruby straightened despite the weight in her backpack and steeled her expression. She looked more determined than she felt. That day, she wore a bubblegum and wine-red princess dress. Its breezy hem-line was pleated around her ankles, and the shoulder-straps wrapped in a criss-cross around her collar.

It didn't have the caduceus that belonged to her favorite movie heroine, but instead displayed the same animated princess' tiara. Its plastic replica glittered on top of her head.

After all, she was leaving home without her parents for the first time.

She needed the same regency and confidence as her heroine.

It would be forever before Ruby saw her Mom again.

The reminder trembled her chin.

Mom sewed her fingers together with her daughter's. "You're gonna have so much fun at Signal. You can't imagine the friends you'll make. Everyone will want to be your best buddy. Do you know why?"

Rambling conversation followed everyone's footsteps which thundered in the underground courtyard. Subways rushed through dark tunnels and metal braked upon metal.

Ruby had to raise her voice to be heard through the din. She saluted with a peace sign over her brow. "Because I'm the best!"

"You are the best." Mom planted a kiss deep in the six-year old's dark hair.

Ruby absorbed something from it — the smell of butter and chocolate chips, but also the emotion of someone who adored their littlest girl.

Mom had never described the way she felt about Ruby.

At times, it mistranslated into distance and uncaring.

It sounded like indifference when they shared silence in the same room together.

At night between dinner and bed-time, it looked like falling asleep too soon.

Voices of automated robots spoke out of intercoms in the ceiling. They listed departures, times of arrival, and incoming carriages.

Little things, like when Mom buried her face in Ruby's hair, gave away the truth that Mom loved her, no matter how far apart they seemed. Ruby used the kiss to throw her arms around Mom's neck. "I don't want to go. Why can't you come, too?" Her tone came out more shrill than it needed.

Mom winced as they pulled apart to arm's length. "I need to stay home, sweetie. I have other work to do: missions and saving the day."

Ruby swelled herself with a breath to repeat the same thing she always did every eve before Mom's missions. Because you slay the monsters!

Except this time, she silenced the words. It hurt to hold them in, and she slouched. Instead, she murmured, "I wish you could come."

Mom framed Ruby's cheeks with both hands like the six-year old princess was a perfect picture. "You'll see me again before you know it. And don't forget," she waggled a finger over Ruby's nose, "you'll be having so much fun with your new friends and your classes and your teacher, you won't even remember to miss me."

Ruby stamped. "Promise!"

They embraced so their fronts sealed together for the last time that morning. Mom said close to her earlobe, "I promise, Roo."

Eight-year old Yang's voice tore them apart. "C'mon, Mom, Ruby and I have to go."

"Indeed you do!"

Ruby's older sister exchanged a short good-bye with their mom, but the hug did not last long enough to mean much. Ruby didn't know what had changed between them last week-end, nor had she asked.

The girls' train awaited them with open doors.

Staff members of the railway station helped store their luggage and double-checked their tickets to make sure they were riding in the right car.

"Signal Academy? Gee! If only I could afford to send my son when he was your age. Here it is — car four."

Ruby kept waving to Mom after her first steps through the train's door, since she hadn't finished saying goodbye.

The seconds ticked closer to their departure.

"Come on, Ruby." Yang sounded more annoyed. She had folded her arms and cocked her head to the right while waiting.

Ruby had a few seconds more.

Then, the door closed inches from her nose. She backed into her sister, who caught her elbows and remained solid on her feet.

Yang rounded her own shoulders and softened her mouth. Emotion curved her eyebrows, but Ruby couldn't tell with what.

Ruby sniffled.

The scent of old shoes and bad body wash greeted her.

A conductor in his black outfit patrolled the train car's aisle, coming little by little in their direction.

Countless conversations blended into a babbling stream.

Twenty or so passengers, most of them kids between the ages six and seventeen, occupied various seats on the right and left side.

A grown-up seated in the front row, who wore cargo shorts and a t-shirt for some musical band, jerked his chin up toward the sisters in a silent greeting.

A stranded sensation took over Ruby in spite of the company. Words failed before she even knew how to start. Expanse spread out between her and everyone else, too distant for her to reach or even to shout.

Yang guided her into the beginning of the aisle. "I didn't have a big sister on my first train. Aren't you glad to have me around?" Her voice was the first thing that sucked the little girl out of her dissociation.

Ruby swelled with false confidence, but her teeth showed, neither a grin nor a scowl. She sprang to meet the conductor and once she had his attention, she waved a peace sign at him. "I'm Ruby Rose and I'm going to Signal Academy!"

He responded in a bumbly, grandfatherly voice, "Of course you are, Miss Rose. Let me find you the other first-year on our train today." A warm greeting bunched up his cheeks as he gestured down the aisle. He nodded to Yang, too. "Welcome back. Your friends are waiting."

Someone on cue hollered Yang's name.

A couple faces of kids her age popped into view from their seats.

Their surprise evolved into joyous grins and waves.

Yang spit out words as fast as possible while she maneuvered around the conductor. "Anyway, my friends are here, so I'll talk to you later, Ruby, bye!"

"Wait!" Ruby reached after her, except Yang left dust behind in her rush to leave. "Where am I…supposed to…?" Ruby trailed off, uncertain for whom she meant her question. The cloud where her sister once stood drifted out of sight, until she was alone.

The conductor chuckled — she wasn't alone, after all! — and he offered a high-five.

She slapped it.

"I'll show you," he said.

As she and the conductor arrived partway down the car, a child who must've been a few years older than Ruby stared her down.

Eyelashes rimmed the kid's wide stare. Their square-shaped jaw jutted out. A headband kept long waves of brown, almost-black hair out of their manila-colored face. They were larger around than most kids Ruby's age. Red, pit-black, and yellow colors made up their outfit from their bandana all the way to their boots, but some level of power in their body swelled at strange places: the biceps and calves, especially.

They didn't seem quite a boy but didn't seem quite a girl, either, and Ruby hadn't met anyone half as bold as the way this child stared at her.

A grown-up relaxed into the far window, dressed in a cream-white business suit and pants. His cherry-red tie matched the color of a mask hiding his face.

The mask's nose protruded a few inches too long. Holes opened its fanged mouth and its heavy-lidded eyes, through which he welcomed Ruby and the conductor without leaning forward. He grazed the chin of his mask with intense thought. "I don't need to know your name to know who you are." He smirked through the fiendish mask and gestured for his child to scootch one seat closer to him. "Make room for your classmate."

The kid obsessed over Ruby through their wild eyes, while they emptied the aisle seat. They barked as if they couldn't control their own volume. Something earthy grinded their voice, too, so it didn't sound child-like at all. "I'm Oni!"

The conductor presented these two in front of Ruby. "Make yourself comfortable, Miss Rose."

Oni slapped the aisle seat beside them with both fists. "Sit down and be my friend!"

Ruby winced.

She pleaded without words that the conductor find somewhere else for her to sit, but he returned to his patrol without saying good-day. She removed her backpack, snuck into the aisle seat as silently as possible, and hugged the bag on her lap.

"I'm Oni Arith and I'm going to Sai-nal Academy."

The child's stare drilled into Ruby.

The hairs on the back of her neck chilled.

She didn't return their gaze when she responded, "Me, too," in a mouse of her usual voice.