1.12 – Transitioning

Leona bit her lip hard, the sharp sting just enough to keep a distressed whimper from escaping.

“It’ll be fine, I promise. Be brave, my girl,” Goonie murmured, wrapping her arms around her. Leona nodded, forcing her lips into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

At that precise moment, the nurse slid the needle into the crook of Leona’s right elbow. Her reaction was immediate—a yelp that echoed through the small room. The nurse offered a practiced, reassuring smile, but Quinn’s smirk was anything but kind.

“Geez, Leona,” her cousin chortled, leaning back in her chair with a grin. “She barely touched you, and you acted like she skewered you with a sword!”

Goonie rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh, leveling a firm look at Quinn. “Hush, you,” she said, but then a spark of mischief glinted in her eyes. “Though, now that you mention it, I think we’re overdue on your vaccinations, aren’t we?” She tapped her chin as if thoughtfully considering.

Quinn’s grin faltered, her bravado cracking at the edges. “You wouldn’t…”

The nurse, now pressing a gauze ball against Leona’s puncture wound, glanced up with a conspiratorial smile. “Actually,” she said, her tone light and casual, “I just heard there’s been a cancellation today. I’m sure we can squeeze in a quick vaccination for your oldest daughter.”

The shift was instantaneous. Quinn’s eyes widened, and without another word, she bolted for the door like her life depended on it. The nurse chuckled softly, and Goonie shook her head with a rueful smile. “That one always talks big until the tables turn.”

Leona sat frozen on the couch, her hands clenched into tight fists as she stared at the television. The room felt impossibly quiet despite the hum of the TV and the faint noise of life outside the window. She couldn’t take her eyes off Mistral, her favorite superhero, standing there on the screen during the live interview.

Mistral was alive. That much should have brought Leona comfort, but it didn’t—not entirely. The woman on the screen wasn’t the confident, larger-than-life figure who once soared through the skies, wielding the weather like an extension of her will. There was something broken in her gaze, a hollowness that chilled Leona to her core.

“My nemesis held me against my will,” Mistral said, her voice cold and deliberate, each word sharp enough to cut. “I won’t speak of what she did to me, but I will say that I will never again let her best me, let alone underestimate her. I wanted to speak out today to make it known that the search for this heinous villain is ongoing, and I beseech anyone, anyone, who has information about her to come forward as quickly as possible. Too long has this evil roamed free, and while it may take time, I will put an end to the threat she represents to this planet before it’s too late.”

Leona bit her lip as she watched. Mistral’s voice was resolute, but there was an unfamiliar edge to it—a rawness, a fury that wasn’t there before.

“Very resolute and powerful words,” the reporter, Joe Christensen, chimed in, his smile polite but tinged with uncertainty. “Are you certain that you can tell us nothing further after setting up this interview?”

“There is something else,” Mistral replied, her tone growing colder. “I cannot overstate her cruelty and manipulativeness. She’s unpredictable in many aspects, but absolutely dependable in at least one regard. Namely, she always finds a way free, no matter what happens to her. I merely say that this endless cycle must end once and for all.”

“Are you saying what I think you just did? Are you saying that you intend to kill this S-ranked supervillain? That clearly goes against the policy of The Society of Sentinels.”

“That need not be the way it ends, per se. But I will no longer stay my hand if needs must—” Mistral said firmly, her jaw tightening. “And I’ll do what I must to protect this world. As the Great Manitou teaches and my old friend and mentor, Garuo says—” She cut herself off abruptly, shaking her head. “That’s enough for now. I’ve said all I wished to.”

Joe, undeterred, pressed on. “How did it feel to be at the mercy of your enemy?”

Mistral’s eyes narrowed, her expression darkening. “You speak of ‘mercy’?!” she snapped. “I don’t wish to speak about how I feel. I’ve obviously been affected by my experiences and will speak with those that I think can best help me with that, but I have nothing to say publicly at this time. Perhaps in the future, but not now.”

“Thank you for taking the time. We all grieve with you and for your losses, Mistral. I believe our viewers can agree when I say that we believe in you, and if you feel like sharing, our ears are ope—”

Joe didn’t get to finish his sentence. Mistral turned her back on the camera and took off, her cape snapping in the wind as she launched into the sky without another word.

The screen shifted back to the news desk, where the anchor began recapping the key points of the interview, but Leona didn’t hear them. She sat staring at the muted television, her mind spinning.

Her hero was alive, but something had been lost. Mistral was colder, harder, and more distant than ever before. It felt like the woman Leona admired might still be out there—but buried beneath layers of pain and bitterness, feelings that she understood all too well.

A tear slid down Leona’s cheek as she hugged her knees to her chest, replaying Mistral’s words in her mind.

When the news anchor signed off, Leona muted the television, her heart heavy. She couldn’t shake the strange, hollow look in Mistral’s eyes as she spoke about her captivity. There was something unsaid, something raw and unresolved, lingering beneath her measured words.

Unable to sit still any longer, Leona pushed herself off the couch and bolted upstairs to her room. Firing up her computer, she immediately logged onto her favorite superhero forum, a space where fans and enthusiasts shared news, theories, and speculation about their favorite heroes and villains.

The thread about Mistral’s return was already buzzing with activity. Leona scrolled through the posts:

ShadowLancer98: She was gone for months. Whatever Black Angel did to her, it’s a miracle she’s even able to give an interview. But you can tell! it’s eating her alive.

WindRider96: That thing about "never staying her hand" is she serious? Mistral’s never talked like that before. She’s always been about hope and redemption, not killing.

AuroraSpark22: I think we’re missing the point here. She’s alive. Mistral survived. That says something about her resilience. Give her time to heal before jumping to conclusions.

SkyboundWarrior11: What if she can’t heal? You saw the way she looked—she’s not the same Mistral anymore. What if Black Angel broke her for good?

Leona’s frown deepened as she read. Most of the posts were bleak, suggesting that Mistral might be permanently scarred by her ordeal, physically or emotionally. Some wondered if she was planning to leave the Sentinels altogether, unable to face the pressures of heroism after such a traumatic experience.

But a small contingent of posters were hopeful, determined to rally behind their idol.

NovaStormX: She’s Mistral. She’s survived the impossible before. Maybe she’s changed, but that doesn’t mean she’s finished. I believe in her.

Leona sat back, staring at the screen. The threads of hope were fragile, but they resonated with her. Whatever had happened, Mistral was still standing. And if Mistral could find a way to overcome her nightmare, maybe the rest of them could hold onto hope, too.

Leona typed her own response, fingers moving hesitantly over the keyboard.

SilverWind14: Mistral’s been through so much, but she’s still here. She hasn’t given up. Neither should we.

She hit "post" and stared at her words, hoping they would feel true with time.

Several months later, with all the tedious paperwork done and the mildly more exciting but still terrifying doctor appointment behind her—not that it would be the last—far from it—Leona stood in her family’s small yard, her skirt swaying in the light breeze. She wore girl’s sneakers now, a camisole, and a sports bra beneath it all, the outfit perfectly complementing her new self.

Today was special—really special—because it was the first time she publicly dressed in a way that felt right. Her Goonie, ever resourceful, had introduced her to something called a gaff to help smooth things out. It felt strange at first, but nestled beneath a soft pair of panties, it made everything look and feel just right.

Blushing as she adjusted her clothes, Leona tried to ignore the nerves crawling up her spine. Would people notice? Would they think she looked nice? Before her thoughts could spiral too far, Quinn ambushed her from behind, breaking her concentration with a grab that sent her heart leaping into her throat.

“Yaiiiiiii!” Leona squealed, spinning around with wide eyes.

Quinn grinned wickedly, her bright blue hair catching the sunlight. “Relax, it’s just me! Geez, you’re so jumpy!”

Leona huffed, her cheeks pink as she smoothed out her camisole. “Don’t do that! You scared me half to death!”

“Oh, lighten up,” Quinn teased, flipping her neon locks over her shoulder. “Besides, you’re keeping us waiting! Mama’s finished the cake! It’s a lemon cake—oops. Pretend I didn’t say that.” Her voice dropped to a mischievous whisper. “If you tell anyone I spoiled the surprise, I’ll tickle you until you pass out!”

Leona’s mouth watered at the mention of cake, and she quickly nodded. “I won’t say a word, promise!” She bounced on her toes in excitement but immediately regretted it, wincing as a sharp ache radiated from her chest. “Nngh… okay, let’s go eat!”

Quinn raised a brow, catching the wince. “What’s wrong? You okay?”

“It’s nothing,” Leona said quickly, forcing a smile. “Just… sore, I guess.” She glanced at her sister thoughtfully, noting how Quinn—now sixteen—didn’t look all that different from before her own big day had come and gone with a couple of exceptions. Leona eyed them envious, flushing.

Do I look different yet? Leona wondered. Even though I’m twelve I don’t feel any different. Just changing clothes won’t make everything magically fall into place… I wonder if mine will grow as big as hers have been getting lately?

Quinn caught her staring and tilted her head. “What’re you looking at?” she asked, feigning innocence as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Blinking, Leona laughed nervously. “Sorry! I was just thinking… you don’t really look sixteen.”

Quinn’s expression shifted to mock offense as she lightly bopped Leona on the head. “Excuse me? Of course I’ve changed! Sixteen is the magical age! I’m just two years away from full adulthood!” She struck a dramatic pose, her grin radiant.

“Um…” Leona tilted her head, grinning slyly. “You still can’t drink, though.”

Quinn’s eye twitched, her smirk faltering. “In the US, sure, but who cares? I’m not that impatient. What really matters is that I can drive now! Mama’s taking me to the DMV soon so I can get my learner’s permit!”

Leona gaped at her, then backed away dramatically. “No way. You behind the wheel? Eeeeep!”

“HEY!” Quinn lunged at her, tackling her onto the grass. “I am your super-ultra-mega-cool big sister, and you will have faith in me, or no dubstep for you tonight! Birthday or not, you spoiled little brat!”

The two rolled across the sweet-smelling lawn, laughing and wrestling like the kids they were. A startled bumblebee buzzed free from the grass, flying lazily past as Quinn giggled uncontrollably.

Leona wasn’t quite as amused, though. Every jolt sent sharp pangs through her chest, leaving her squirming and wincing in discomfort. “Quinn, stop! I’m serious—ow!” she yelped, swatting at her sister weakly.

“Ouch! You hurt my boobs!” Leona blurted, her voice high and indignant as she quickly shielded her tender chest. Her face flushed a deep red as she glared up at Quinn.

Quinn blinked, momentarily startled, before a sheepish grin spread across her face. “Awwww… I’m sorry, Leona. I forgot all about that.” She adjusted her position slightly, her tone softening. “I know it can be a pain—but it’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Despite her irritation, Leona couldn’t help but brighten at the question. “YES! I do! I love them!” she said enthusiastically, her voice ringing with conviction. But then her smile faltered, and she bit her lip. “But… are they ever going to get bigger than this?” Worry flickered in her eyes as she peeked up at her sister.

Quinn tilted her head thoughtfully, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “Hmm… I read up on this, so you can totally trust your big sis on this one.” She poked her own chest for emphasis. “I’m already a C cup. But if I keep working at it, maybe I could—no, wait—that’d be a disaster. Maybe I should keep them smaller—”

Leona, unimpressed, pouted and crossed her arms. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Quinn flushed at the reminder and cleared her throat. “Oh, right!” She scrambled to recover, her cheeks pink. “Your birth mama—my aunt—had a fabulous set, and Mama’s and Goonie’s aren’t exactly slouches either. So, like, you can totally expect at least that much. It’s genetic! And starting before puberty really kicks in means you’ll develop just like you’re supposed to. You’re gonna be just fine, promise.”

Leona stared at her sister, her expression shifting from skepticism to amazement. “Wait… you care so much about me that you actually read up on what I’m going through?” Her voice softened, and she blinked at Quinn in awe.

Quinn rubbed the back of her neck, avoiding her sister’s gaze as her cheeks deepened in color. “Well, yeah… I mean, you’re my little sister. It’s what I’m supposed to do, right?” She waved it off like it was no big deal, though her shy grin said otherwise.

Leona’s eyes shimmered with emotion. “Thanks, Quinn,” she said softly. For a moment, she felt overwhelmed—not just by her sister’s effort but also by how much she still had to learn. I can’t always rely on Quinn and Goonie, she thought. I need to figure things out for myself someday.

Sensing her little sister’s pensive mood, Quinn reached down and ran her fingers through Leona’s shoulder-length hair. “You’re looking good, y’know? You’re already so pretty. I know you’re worried about it, but trust me—you look more like a girl than a boy. Heck, you look more like a girl than I do half the time.”

Leona’s cheeks went scarlet as she clapped her hands to them in delighted disbelief. “Really?!”

Quinn smirked, giving her sister a sly look. “Yup. But don’t let it go to your head, okay?”

Leona fidgeted, unsure whether to believe her sister’s compliment. She shifted nervously until Quinn broke the tension with a mischievous grin. “We should totally hit the beach sometime soon. You should show all that off a little!” She gestured vaguely at Leona’s outfit but, for once, refrained from poking her.

Leona’s smile froze as her eyes widened in horror. “A beach? Like… with a swimsuit?” Her voice climbed higher with each word as her mind raced through the possibilities, none of which seemed remotely okay.

Right on cue, Goonie emerged from the house, her entrance marked by the tantalizing aroma of lemon cake wafting through the open door. She chuckled at the sight of the two girls sprawled in the grass. “Still playing nicely together, I see. Leona, if you keep rolling around like that, you’ll ruin your new outfit.” Her eyes twinkled as she smirked knowingly. “Although… I can already tell someone’s thinking about turning some heads out there, hmm?”

Leona laughed nervously, her smile stiff and unsure. “Uh… maybe?”

Both girls froze, holding their breath, half-expecting Goonie to shut the idea down. Instead, she sighed with mock seriousness. “We’ll need a week of boot camp before you make any sort of public debut, Leona. There’s plenty to cover—like how to deal with boys hitting on you, or what to do if a creepy adult approaches. And makeup. Oh, don’t think you’re getting out of learning makeup.” She wagged a finger at them. “You’re both officially enrolled in Goonie’s Gorgeous Girls’ Finishing School starting tomorrow.”

“I wanna take Leona to a rave, too!” Quinn blurted, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Leona, equally intrigued, lit up at the suggestion.

Goonie’s expression darkened immediately. “Absolutely not! My heart can’t take you dragging Leona off on one of your wild escapades.”

Quinn pouted, leaning forward with an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, okay… a safe rave! You know, a mellow one!”

Goonie arched an eyebrow, her skepticism clear. “Nope. Not happening.”

“Then can we at least get henna tattoos?” Quinn pressed, her enthusiasm reigniting. “They’re so beautiful and interesting!”

The word “tattoos” sent Goonie’s eyebrows shooting up, her face paling as she put a hand to her chest. “Tattoos?! Absolutely not!”

“It’s henna, Mama!” Quinn exclaimed, throwing up her hands. “It’s not even permanent!”

 Hearing the word ‘tattoo’ so many times in such a short span of time nearly gave Goonie the aforementioned heart attack.

Leona stood in the store aisle, her gaze flitting over the display of purses Goonie had led them to. Rows of brightly colored handbags stretched out before her, some small and dainty, others big enough to hold half a wardrobe. She had always heard that girls were expected to carry a bag when they left the house, but the idea felt… daunting.

Her fingers brushed over a soft pink purse decorated with sparkly hearts before moving to one with a bold geometric design. There were plenty made for girls her age, sporting embroidered or printed Nisdey Princesses and popular dolls, their vibrant colors practically shouting for attention. Leona hesitated, tilting her head as she took in the variety. The branding wasn’t her favorite, but some of the designs and colors were, admittedly, pretty cute.

She lingered in front of one particular bag—a small, round purse with Princess Oolong on it. It wasn’t perfect, but it had a charm she couldn’t ignore. If they had a Mistral-themed one, she thought wistfully, I’d have grabbed it by now.

As she debated, Quinn appeared at her side with the subtlety of a wrecking ball, dramatically dragging her palm down her face. “Are you seriously into purses?” she groaned, her tone dripping with mock disbelief. “That’s like—super girly.”

Leona glanced at her sister, biting her lip.

Quinn twisted her lips and continued, “I mean, I get it—you’re trying to be as feminine as possible, which is cool—but they’re so bulky. I tried carrying one once a few years ago and got sick of it in, like, a day. Everything I need? Pockets. Easy.” She shrugged like it was the most obvious solution in the world.

Behind them, Goonie chuckled, stepping closer. “That’s you, Quinn—my darling tomboy. Your sister, on the other hand, is transgender.” Her tone was gentle but firm. “I read that it’s common for girls like Leona to experience a strong sense of dysphoria.”

Quinn frowned, tilting her head. “What’s ‘dysphoria’ mean?”

Leona froze, her hand hovering over the Princess Oolong bag. The word hung in the air, and she looked to Goonie for an answer, curiosity and unease mingling in her expression.

With a patient smile, Goonie explained, “Dysphoria is dissatisfaction with life, or a deep sense of discomfort and anxiety. It’s not exclusive to transgender people—everyone feels it at some point in their lives. But for someone like Leona, it can be more specific, tied to how she sees herself. Buying something that makes her feel more like herself can help ease those feelings.” Her gaze softened as she glanced at Leona.

Quinn scrunched her nose thoughtfully before breaking into a wide grin. “I guess that makes sense. I’m just lucky I’m pretty happy as is.”

Leona laughed, her sister’s confidence infectious. “Me too, actually!” she said, her voice bright. Then, lowering it, she added, “I mean, I used to feel like something was wrong—you know, the… the thing between my legs. It isn’t right. But…” She trailed off, glancing back at the purses, her eyes crinkling with a giggle. “I don’t think any of these would make me happier than I already am now.”

Goonie smiled warmly. “That’s the spirit. Still, when you go back to school, you might want to at least  keep a small bag handy. If you make friends with other girls, they’ll talk about, well… girl things. You don’t have to be the most fashionable girl in the world to fit in, but I’d recommend steering clear of any conversations about menstruation.”

Quinn blushed instantly, her eyes widening before she dissolved into giggles.

Leona blinked, her expression caught somewhere between confusion and fascination as she stared at Goonie. “Wait… what?”

Goonie coughed awkwardly, clearly regretting her choice of words. “Oh—oh my…” she stammered, waving a hand as though that would erase the comment from existence.

Quinn’s laughter doubled, growing wild and uncontrollable as she leaned against the nearest shelf for support. Leona couldn’t help but join in, her giggles bubbling up despite her bewilderment.

The awkward moment passed in a wave of laughter, leaving Goonie shaking her head but smiling all the same.

Sporting a new hairband Leona had picked out to match the light jacket Goonie had bought her, she walked nervously alongside Goonie and Quinn through the sprawling wilderness park in the heart of San Isidro. It was her first time truly stepping out in public since beginning her transition, and the blend of excitement and anxiety coursing through her made her every step feel monumental.

The park was alive with activity. Bikers sped past on paved trails, joggers weaved between strolling families, and groups of hikers disappeared into shaded paths that twisted toward private nooks. The natural beauty couldn’t quite mask the edge of the city, with its notorious reputation for crime. Still, the park felt lively, almost festive, as they approached the veranda near a sun-dappled lake.

“If the veranda’s full, we could always try the gazebo on the other side,” Goonie suggested, her tone light and reassuring.

Leona’s gaze darted nervously toward the small crowds they passed. She swore every glance seemed to linger on her, even when she told herself otherwise. Her hands fidgeted with the hem of her jacket, and she shifted closer to Goonie.

Noticing her sister’s tension, Quinn slowed her pace and arched a brow. “Hey, you okay?”

Leona hesitated, then nodded quickly. “I’m fine—it’s just a little... embarrassing,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. She looked down, avoiding the faces around her.

“You’ll get over that awkwardness soon enough,” Goonie said, smiling gently as she reached over to pat Leona’s shoulder.

“You think so?” Leona’s voice quavered. “But—they’re staring at me.”

Goonie stopped walking and turned to face her, bending slightly to catch her eyes. “Leona,” she said softly, “you think it’s obvious. But the truth is, few people care, and even fewer are paying close attention.”

Quinn chimed in with a playful snort. “Yeah, no one’s staring at you, kiddo. You’re just another cute tomboy. Relax, will ya?”

Leona glanced around uncertainly. “But there was a baby looking over its mom’s shoulder—right at me!” she said, her hands clenching nervously at her sides.

Goonie chuckled and leaned closer, her voice soothing but firm. “Babies stare at everything, darling. They don’t know what’s what—they just think the world’s interesting. That little one probably just thought you were fascinating. Don’t let it get to you.”

Leona bit her lip, turning the thought over in her mind before taking a deep breath. “You’re right. I’m being silly, aren’t I?”

“Not silly,” Goonie corrected gently, “just nervous. And that’s perfectly normal. But look around you.” She gestured to the vibrant park. “It’s a beautiful day. There’s nothing to worry about here.”

Straightening her back, Leona nodded, a tentative smile forming on her lips. “Okay. I can do this.”

“There you go!” Goonie said, taking Leona’s hands in hers and giving them an encouraging squeeze. “Now, how does it feel to shake off all that anxiety?” She winked.

Leona’s smile grew wider, spreading across her face. “It feels… pretty good. And you’re right—it really is a beautiful day.”

She slipped her hands free of Goonie’s hold and suddenly dashed ahead, her energy bubbling over. She bounded up the steps of the veranda, her eyes lighting up as she spotted an empty bench recently vacated by a couple. Without hesitation, she vaulted over the seat, landing with a triumphant plop.

Her gaze swept across the lake, its surface glittering like diamonds in the sunlight. Swans and ducks glided peacefully across the water, their reflections rippling softly with each stroke. Leona sighed contentedly, letting the warmth of the sun and the beauty of the moment wash over her.

From behind, Goonie and Quinn exchanged a smile before following at a slower pace. “She’s already settled in,” Goonie murmured, pride evident in her voice.