Spilt Milk

Katie stared down at the melted strawberry ice cream at her feet, just below one of the math benches dotting the Die Ranger Leon statue-coaster. It wasn’t hers, nor did she intend to clean it up, but she just couldn’t take her eyes off the slowly dissipating pink sugar waste.

“Hey! Kate!”

She was almost happy when her attention was stolen by the red-haired tourist she’d dragged all this way with her. Besides the new shade, Frankie was decked-out in anime merchandise- well, at least that made sense.

Tala walked next to her, and soon both came to sit down on either side of the girl, each avoiding the gooey puddle of ice cream. As Frankie nervously checked her wallet just to make sure her fandom-induced splurge hadn’t been too much of a financial blow, Tara was happy just letting what little sun came through the tall buildings hit them as they silently relaxed.

Katie solemnly looked back to the puddle. They weren’t going to ask her. Because why wouldn’t whatever she tried have gone perfectly well?

“Katie? What’s going on?”

The elder sister failed to realize her own kin and travel partner would always notice if she acted this strange. She thought she’d wanted this to happen- but now she was having second thoughts.

“…Nothing.” She smiled.

“Did you have a good time at the dojo?”

Katie stared back down miserably at the melted ice cream. There really was no avoiding it.

“She told me I was hopeless.”

“Huh?” Frankie blinked. “Who said you were hopeless?”

“The girl… that owns the gym right now.”

Suddenly, Tara was listening, as if remembering something.

“Did you fight her?” Frankie asked. “If she saw you in combat, surely she wouldn’t-“

“She completely destroyed me.” Katie groaned, unable to look away from the pink puddle sinking into the concrete. “I didn’t stand a chance.”

“…” Frankie was finding it hard to think of something to say, even though she wanted to rebut her more than anything. “Why not? What’s one loss got to do with anything? Nobody wins 100 percent of the time… she should be ashamed of herself, that’s a ridiculous standard to hold anyone to.”

“She didn’t say what she did because I lost… she did because it was true.”

Frankie couldn’t speak, so Katie just kept on going, her voice hoarsely, quietly echoing under the sounds of the crowd.

“I don’t actually know anything about sword fighting… dueling… kendo… I thought I was hot shit because I got lucky once or twice.” She sniffled. “I’m not a prodigy.”

Frankie’s lips folded in on themselves as she worked up the courage to figuratively knock some sense into her friend.

“Does your dream have to die just because someone said so?” She almost stuttered, but she could tell by the look on her sister’s face the words were getting through. “Or did you just like the idea of that dream because… because you thought it would be easy?”

Katie shivered.

Katie nodded.

“…That doesn’t mean you have to give up on it.” Frankie comforted. “You can get better, and you can beat her one day.”

“I was so bad that she refused to train me.”

Tara accidentally activated their trickery, eyes widened as they grit their teeth.

“T-Tala?” Frankie turned over to them, surprised.

“…Sorry.” They retracted their iron gloves. “That’s just… not how the old owner of that place would’ve done it.”

“You knew hi-“

“Are there any rides left…?”

Frankie’s attention was abruptly stolen when she heard a young English voice in the crowd that sounded- to the exact pitch and tone- how she’d always imagined Percy would.

“Frankie?” Katie watched her sister perk up like a meerkat. Following her gaze, her eyes settled on a lone young boy wearing an oversized, blindingly white t-shirt and jeans.

“I’m not giving up on my dream.” Frankie rose from the bench, not caring as her feet landed directly in the puddle of strawberry ice cream below. “You better not give up on yours.”

She made a beeline to him, hastily marching to approach the child as fast as possible, probably scaring the daylights out of him in the process.