Chapter Text
It had been the soundest sleep Jane had managed in her six years at the dorm.
It wasn’t that she slept badly the rest of the time either. She’d fallen into bed after the night’s patrol and been out within moments. No dreams had troubled her sleep, and she hadn’t even had to get up halfway through for a glass of water. She greeted her alarm with a yawn and a smile, rather than the usual groan.
All in all, it was a great start to her morning. One that came to an abrupt end as she got a good look at herself in the mirror.
“NO!”
Jane’s shout echoed through the dorm, as her hands shot to the cheek beneath her right eye. Her sigil, the flash of lightning on her cheek, was gone, replaced with a stream of tears as her legs buckled. She barely kept herself standing, her free arm braced against the sink.
“No, no no, not this soon…”
The words were automatic. In the deep, dark recesses of her mind, she’d known this was coming. Most girls aged out long before she had. But it still felt…
Unfair.
Jane finally became aware of the gentle knocking at her door. The resident assistant. Right. Someone… someone had probably heard her.
With trepidation, Jane approached the door and leaned against it.
“Jane? Are you there? Is everything alright?” Came the muffled voice on the other side.
“I’m fine.” Jane croaked out. “Sorry for worrying you. It’s just… my… I’m…”
“My sigil is gone.”
There was silence on the other side.
“...Do you want to talk?” The RA asked, her voice barely audible through the door.
Jane shook her head, realizing the obvious only a moment later. A pounding headache was coming on, and all she wanted to do was curl up in her bed.
“N-not right now. I… I need to go see my manager as soon as possible. Um. What’s… what’s the protocol with this… this situation and school?”
“I’ll let them know what’s happened. You can take the day off, and we can talk about further arrangements tomorrow. Is there anything else you need?”
Yeah. Give me back the lightning. “No. I’ll… I’ll be okay.”
Founder willing.
Jane stumbled to her kitchen counter, grabbing a protein bar and a bottle of water. Forcing the bar down felt like it took every ounce of will she had left, and she sat on her bed with the water bottle in hand.
Gotta talk to Tor. Talk to school. Figure out college.
The thoughts arrived on their own. Jane just sat and stared at the wall.
After six and a half years, her vigil was finally over. There was now no reason for her to spend four hours every night running through the city, fighting monsters and narrowly dodging death and injury.
Jane felt like she was going to throw up.
---
Tor Odson stood as Jane entered his office and, moment’s later, enveloped her in a hug. This was an impressive feat; even at 18, Jane was over six feet tall and still growing.
“I can see why you’re here. Have a seat. Kettle should be just about ready, if you want some tea.”
“Please.” Jane croaked. She’d managed to keep some water down, but she still felt nauseous. As Tor bustled over to his office’s kitchenette, Jane collapsed into a chair and brushed the hair out of her eyes. That was another petty thing she was having to get used to; the oddly bold-shaped bangs she’d grown used to had lost whatever spark was keeping them in place.
“So. Finally aged out, then?” Tor asked gently as he pressed a hot mug of tea into Jane’s hands. It was her favorite kind, steeped hot and then cooled with a splash of cold water so she could start drinking immediately.
“...yeah.”
“I’ll make the calls for your sponsorships. Do you want to put out a statement?” Tor sat at his own desk and started shuffling around some papers.
“...no.”
“...I’ll just put out a generic retirement statement for you, then.”
“Sure.”
Tor’s next look couldn’t conceal the pity in his eyes.
“...Jane. You’re not the first magical girl who… got hit hard when they aged out. It’s going to be okay. I promise. If you want, there’s an organization I can put you in touch with. M.A.G.I.C.S.”
Jane blinked. “Um… alright, sure.” It was an automatic answer, but the reminder of other magical girls aging out had struck her out of the blue, despite how obvious it was. There was one person she needed to talk to. More than anyone else.
“Alright. There’s a couple other things we need to go over now that you’ve aged out, of course. If you can just have a look at these papers…”
---
Jane liked Tor well enough, but he never seemed more talkative and boring than when Jane had suddenly realized there was another place she desperately wanted to be. Nonetheless, she’d done her best to set through his explanations, and even managed to work up the nerve to talk a bit about college options. It had taken just about everything she had left to not sprint out of his office when they were done, but now that she was on the street again she’d broken out into a brisk run. She could have been out for a nice bit of cardio, for all the people she sped past noticed.
It didn’t take her long to reach her destination. Mama Maho’s Mahou Diner had been something of a second home to Jane since she’d first started living at the dorms, and this time of day it was all but empty. In fact, the closed sign was up, but Jane knew from experience that Molly Maho never kept the door locked while she was inside.
The ding of the bell as Jane entered the diner heralded heavenly comfort, and moments later a familiar form peered out of the kitchen.
“We’re closed right now Darlin’, but if you just needed a seat- wait, Jane?”
Molly Maho emerged from the kitchen. She was a stocky, broad-shouldered woman and a head shorter than Jane, with greying brown hair curled into a multitude of puffs and kind brown eyes. She wore a plain red apron, and on her right forearm sported a massive tattoo of a red boxing glove.
Molly stared at Jane for a few moments, then slowly approached her.
“Jane, darlin’...”
“...H-hey, Mrs. Maho. You can probably see that I’ve… I’ve… finally aged out…” Jane said, trying and failing to inject a note of levity into her voice. “I…”
The dam she’d erected so she could speak to Tor without crying shattered. Tears started to stream from Jane’s eyes, and she let out a wracked sob as Molly hurried forward and embraced Jane in another hug.
“It’s alright, darlin’. Let it all out.” It was a little awkward, hugging a woman a head shorter than her, but Molly’s arms were strong and the gentle rubbing of her hand on her back gave Jane the excuse she needed to fully collapse.
“I didn’t… I didn’t want… I didn’t want to stop…”
It took a few minutes for Molly to gently guide Jane over to the nearest booth. As Jane finally ran out of tears, Molly squeezed Jane’s hand. “Think you’ll be okay while I whip something up for you?”
“Yeah. Thanks, Molly.” Jane slumped against the table. As she half-listened to Molly bustling around in the kitchen, she rubbed her fingers together. To think, just last night, that was all it took to get a spark of lightning going.
She felt her chest heave, but she had no more tears to shed, and frankly Jane was already exhausted from crying. In the places where the grief had spent itself, anger and resentment were starting to pool. It was a dull, hot ache that still felt better than the hollowness it replaced.
The clink of glass against the table pushed Jane out of that headspace for a moment, and she pushed herself up to look at what Molly had provided. A tall glass of iced tea and a slice of carrot cake.
“Bless you, Molly.” Jane dug in as Molly once more sat across from her.
“Still sinking in, I take it. Well, you just come on by whenever you need, alright? I’ll let the kids know you’re welcome.” Molly smiled at her. “And that being said, you’re a hardworkin’ young woman with a good head on your shoulders. You’re gonna be okay, y’hear?”
Jane nodded, more out of obligation than sincerity. Still, between the carrot cake and the praise, a bit of warmth had returned to her chest, and her stomach didn’t feel nearly as troubled.
“Your manager told you about M.A.G.I.C.S, right?” Molly asked once Jane had polished off the carrot cake.
“Um… he definitely mentioned it.” Jane muttered. Now that she’d had time to decompress, the earlier meeting with her manager was… a bit of a blur.
“They help magical girls who have aged out stay on their feet. Not just with life skills…you’ve been living in the dorms for years now, I know you can take care of yourself there. When the power goes away, it can leave you listless. Even if you had plans, nothing can really prepare you for that feeling.”
Jane glanced at Molly’s tattoo.
“...how did it feel… having to give up being Power Punch?” She asked, locking eyes with the older woman.
“Well, I can tell you I didn’t get this tattoo because I felt good about losing my powers, y’know.” Molly said with a chuckle. “...But I’ve gotten it refreshed since then because… well. Just because you don’t have the powers doesn’t mean those years go away. They’ll stay with you forever. But now you get to do more than that.”
Molly smiled. “You’ve already got yer major picked out, if I recall? Gonna be an engineer?”
Jane nodded, her eyes going back to Molly’s tattoo. Just because you don’t have the powers doesn’t mean those years go away.
“That’s the plan. I’m going to need to figure out a new place to exercise, I guess. Now that I’m not getting four hours of cardio every night.”
“Staying active is good, just don’t push yerself too hard, alright?”
“I’ll think taking it easy.” Jane lied.
“...Thanks for the cake. I… I feel a lot better.” At least that part was true.
“Y’take care of yourself, then. And keep coming back. I love seeing you here.” Molly squeezed Jane’s hand and smiled at her with a warmth that filled Jane’s heart.
“I will, Molly. Thank you.” She glanced at the walls, laden with posters and photos of magical girls past. “...Guess it’s time I got you my own little gift, huh?”
“Only if you want one up here.” Molly said firmly.
“Gotcha.” Jane rose from her table. “Let me help you get stuff ready for the rush. Not like I have anywhere to be.”