Haze’s little sister, Mia, walks in on him fighti
Haze’s little sister, Mia, walks in on him fighting a dummy in a fighting room. She was wearing an white shirt and overalls with yellow rain boots. Her hair was blonde, like her brothers but more light, wavy-curly waist-length and her eyes were a deep blue. She was covered in dirt from head to toe, and she was holding a glass bottle with different bugs and worms in it. Mia was someone who loved playing in mud and learning/discovering new things–that was what her brother adored about her but it was also something that scared him. That she was too curious–he always was a bit protective over her. He was bare, and his muscles were tense and dripping sweat. He looked focused and blue sparks of electricity were coming off him. “Need something?” Haze said quietly, as he reached for a towel. “My little scientist?”
Mia grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Haze! Can you make time go faster? I want to see what happens to these worms when they get older!”
He sighed, placing the towel on the bench beside him. “Mia, you know I can’t just speed up time for a bunch of worms. It’s not like…” he trailed off, unable to finish the thought. It wasn’t like he could speed up time for his own life, for his own grief. He couldn’t bring back their parents, couldn’t rewind the clock to before the classified accident that took them.
“Why not?” Mia pressed, her brow furrowing. “You can do everything else with time. You can go back, you can go forward, you can even freeze it. Why not just make these worms grow up fast?”
Haze avoided her gaze, his amber eyes clouding with a sadness that was too deep for his young years. “It’s not that simple,” he mumbled, picking up a small, dusty notebook from the floor. It was filled with calculations, notes, and diagrams about time manipulation. He was always studying, always trying to understand his power, but it was a heavy burden. “Sometimes, Mia,” he said, turning to face her, his expression softening, “Sometimes, even with all the time in the world, you can’t change things.”
Mia looked at him, her usual sparkle of curiosity dimmed by a flicker of understanding. She reached out and touched the glass bottle, her fingers tracing the outline of the wriggling worms. “But, you can still make things better, right? Even if you can’t go back, you can still make a good future, right?”
Haze swallowed, surprised by the wisdom in her innocent question. It was a simple question, yet it carried the weight of his own unspoken struggle. He glanced at the notebook, then back at his sister. “Yes, Mia. You’re right. We can make things better, even if we can’t change the past.” He picked up the bottle, careful not to drop it. “Maybe we can take care of these worms, make them grow up healthy. We can make a good future for them.”
Mia grinned, her eyes lighting up again. “That sounds fun! Can we give them names?”
Haze smiled back, a genuine, warm smile that broke through the solemn mask he usually wore. “Of course, Mia. We can give them names.” As he walked out of the room, he felt a small flicker of hope, a tiny spark of warmth in the depths of his loneliness. Maybe, just maybe, the future wasn’t so bleak after all. Maybe, with his sister by his side, he could find a way to make things better, even if he couldn’t change the past. (continue with—> Chester, a guy with the ability to shape shift that was known for saying what was on his mind and cussing like his life depended on it–teasing Haze like he was his younger brother as a way to stop Haze from always being so hard on himself)
The air in the training room was thick with the scent of sweat and ozone, a lingering trace of Haze’s recent exertion. His breathing was ragged, the echo of a fight against a dummy that had been anything but imaginary. He was wrestling with his own inner demons, a constant battle against the grief that had settled in his heart like a stone.
Mia, his little sister, walked in, a whirlwind of dirt and curiosity. Her oversized overalls, stained with the evidence of a day spent exploring the muddy banks of the nearby creek, were a stark contrast to the sleek, almost sterile environment of the training room. Her hair, the same shade of blonde as Haze’s but with a softer, more whimsical wave, hung down her back, catching the light from the overhead lamps.
“Need something?” Haze asked, his voice raspy from exertion. The towel he’d reached for felt heavy in his hands, a reminder of the sweat he’d poured out in his silent battle with his own pain. “My little scientist?” he added, a faint smile touching his lips.
Mia grinned, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “Haze! Can you make time go faster? I want to see what happens to these worms when they get older!” She held up a glass bottle, teeming with wriggling, squirming life. Her love for the natural world was boundless, her curiosity a bottomless well.
He sighed, placing the towel on the bench. “Mia, you know I can’t just speed up time for a bunch of worms. It’s not like…” he trailed off, the words catching in his throat. It wasn’t like he could speed up time for his own life, for his own grief. He couldn’t bring back their parents, couldn’t rewind the clock to before the classified accident that took them.
“Why not?” Mia pressed, her brow furrowing. “You can do everything else with time. You can go back, you can go forward, you can even freeze it. Why not just make these worms grow up fast?”
Haze avoided her gaze, his amber eyes clouding with a sadness that was too deep for his young years. “It’s not that simple,” he mumbled, picking up a small, dusty notebook from the floor. It was filled with calculations, notes, and diagrams about time manipulation. He was always studying, always trying to understand his power, but it was a heavy burden. “Sometimes, Mia,” he said, turning to face her, his expression softening, “Sometimes, even with all the time in the world, you can’t change things.”
Mia looked at him, her usual sparkle of curiosity dimmed by a flicker of understanding. She reached out and touched the glass bottle, her fingers tracing the outline of the wriggling worms. “But, you can still make things better, right? Even if you can’t go back, you can still make a good future, right?”
Haze swallowed, surprised by the wisdom in her innocent question. It was a simple question, yet it carried the weight of his own unspoken struggle. He glanced at the notebook, then back at his sister. “Yes, Mia. You’re right. We can make things better, even if we can’t change the past.” He picked up the bottle, careful not to drop it. “Maybe we can take care of these worms, make them grow up healthy. We can make a good future for them.”
Mia grinned, her eyes lighting up again. “That sounds fun! Can we give them names?”
Haze smiled back, a genuine, warm smile that broke through the solemn mask he usually wore. “Of course, Mia. We can give them names.” As he walked out of the room, he felt a small flicker of hope, a tiny spark of warmth in the depths of his loneliness. Maybe, just maybe, the future wasn’t so bleak after all. Maybe, with his sister by his side, he could find a way to make things better, even if he couldn’t change the past.
The door creaked open and a gruff voice boomed, “Well, lookie here, the gloomy Gus is letting a little sunshine in, eh?”
Chester, a man with a shifting physique and a perpetually grumpy expression, stepped into the room. His words were laced with a teasing tone, but Haze knew Chester meant well. He was the closest thing they had to family, a chaotic, unpredictable presence that somehow always knew what Haze needed, even if it was just a good dose of roughhousing and sarcasm. Chester’s ability to shapeshift was a strange one, and he used it to make himself appear larger or smaller, often playfully intimidating anyone who dared to cross him.
“What’s with the broodin’, Haze?” Chester continued, taking a seat on the bench, ignoring the lingering sweat from Haze’s training. “You’re starting to remind me of that gloomy statue in the museum, the one that’s supposed to be a warrior but looks like he just lost his best sock.”
Chester’s words always managed to cut through Haze’s defenses. He was the only one who could truly get under Haze’s skin, the only one who dared to poke at the raw edges of his grief. He knew it was a form of affection, a clumsy attempt at comfort from a man who expressed his feelings through playful taunts and snarky comments.
“You’re not helping,” Haze muttered, but a faint smile tugged at his lips. Chester’s presence was a constant source of irritation, but it also served as a lifeline, reminding Haze that he wasn’t alone.
“Hey, I’m just sayin’, sunshine, you gotta let it out, ya know?” Chester winked, his form shifting briefly into a towering bear before returning to his usual, slightly hunched posture. “Look at your little sister. She’s got the right idea. Get out there and live a little, ya hear?”
Haze stared at his sister, who was now excitedly discussing the names of her worms with Chester. They were a strange, unlikely trio, a warrior wrestling with his demons, a girl with a thirst for discovery, and a grumpy shapeshifter with a heart of gold. But they were family, and they were learning to heal together, one messy, unpredictable day at a time.
