Chapter Text
Inko felt the longing in her heart. She watched her friends load into a horse-drawn carriage, hiking their dresses up to their knees to keep the mud at bay. Rei and Mitsuki looked absolutely stunning in their ball gowns. They were going to knock the prince speechless, she could tell.
After very little time at all, Inko had to turn away. She closed the drapes and wished them well from the confines of her bedroom, then sighed a deep sigh at herself. What she wouldn’t give to go to the ball. It was all the worse because she was, in fact, invited. Mitsuki and Rei had begged for her to go. But she couldn’t. Not… as she was.
She wasn’t like her friends, all dainty and slight. Time had dealt her body and her confidence a heavy blow. She was in her forties with a child who had flown the nest long ago. Her skin was tired and her stomach was flabby. It wouldn’t be right to go to the ball as she was, especially when the prince himself was trying to choose a bride. No man of royal blood would ever choose a woman like her and she couldn’t bear the humiliation or the glances or the mutters of other women should she attend, even if just for fun.
She skulked around the house, cleaning to pass the time but it dragged on so very slowly. Even after doing the dishes and mopping the kitchen floors when she looked at the clock it was still too early for the ball to have officially begun. She sighed again. Maybe she would simply go to bed and wait for morning to come.
She climbed the stairs to her room in the top most corner of the house but when she opened the door there was another woman sat on her bed. She shrieked, slamming the door closed in case the woman lunged but instead all she heard was laughter.
“Ms Inko, what are you doing? Come in here. I won’t bite.”
Against her better judgement, Inko opened the door. The woman was on her feet this time, with flowing blonde hair and a racy cream and purple dress that could make any head turn.
“You’re late,” the woman chided, ushering Inko into the room before she could turn tail and flee.
“L-late?” She questioned. “For what?”
“For what?” The woman repeated as if Inko had asked the daftest of things. “For your fitting. Your dress. The ball.”
“Oh.” Inko said, feeling her heart sink. “But I’m not going.”
“Oh yes you are. There’s no doubt about it.” The woman pushed Inko until she was in front of a tall mirror and forced her to look herself over. “Your friends are there. They’re having a good time so why can’t you?”
Inko frowned, wondering just who on earth this strange woman was.
“How do you know so much about this?”
The woman scoffed, stepping back to formally introduce herself.
“Why, because I’m your personal Fairy God Mother. You can call me Takeyama, and bibbity-bobbity-bitch I’m here to turn you into a fabulous queen for the evening. Now get your dancing shoes because I need to know what I’m working with to coordinate your dress.”
She pulled a thin rod from out her cleavage then posed like she was ready to conduct an orchestra. Inko stepped back in alarm.
“Wait. Wait,” she begged, holding her arms up. “Please. I don’t want to go. I can’t. Not when I look like this.” She gestured to herself as a whole.
“I… don’t see your point.” Takeyama frowned, wondering if Inko meant her dress sense. True, she was wearing housewife 101 but a quick flick of the wand would fix that.
Inko hated that she had to say it out loud. She was insecure and shy, and voicing her concerns only made them that much realer.
“My size. My shape. I’m not fit to go to a ball. People would stare. Heaven forbid, what if the prince saw me? I could never. Maybe once upon a time but not now. Please just let me be and let me sleep.”
The desperation in her voice struck a chord in Takeyama’s Fairy God Mother soul. There was nothing wrong with Inko or how she looked, but if this was a case of confidence then, perhaps just for tonight, Takeyama could give her ward the means to love herself.
“Alright, Inko. You can go to sleep. I’ll leave you be. Just do me one small favour.” She flicked her wrist so slightly that it was impossible to see, jolting the wand a breadth. “Look once more in that mirror for me.”
In the hopes that Takeyama would leave, Inko did as she was told. But when she caught sight of herself in the mirror she couldn’t believe what she could see.
“I—I’m—” Gone were her tired eyes and loose skin, her mum-tum and the body that came from a woman who loved her offspring unconditionally. She was a wisp of herself, as bright as a button and simply radiating with confidence once she realised it really was her. “What’s happened to me?”
Takeyama felt proud by Inko’s reaction. She flicked the wand again, adding makeup, hair-up and a salmon pink ball gown to boot. When Inko caught sight of herself for a second time she started to cry.
“Get it out of your system now,” Takeyama cooed, coming to hug the trembling woman. “I can fix your makeup in a jiffy while you’re here but you’re on your own at the ball.”
“You did—you did—you did all this— so I—I—could—I could go to the ball?” Inko could hardly get her words out, tears streaming down her face as her heart swelled with happiness. All she wanted was to spend the night with her friends, dancing the time away without the fear of being judged. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“Just spend your time wisely, my wonderfully anxious ward. You’ll only stay this way until the last stroke of midnight, then revert to your natural state no matter where you are.”
“That’s enough time.” Inko said waterly, wiping her eyes enough to smear her makeup down her face. “That’s more than enough. Thank you. Thank you for everything.”
With a giggle and a flick of her wand, Takeyama fixed Inko’s makeup, then sent her on her way. There was no time to lose. It was nearly time for the ball to begin.