A/N. Ok, so, you guys can yell at me for this all you want, but in all honesty I think this first season is done-ish. So this may very well be the last chapter until I publish a sequel.

Disclaimer: I own nothing

EP 13: The Beginning?

She'd never actually paused long enough to look before, but looking into a mirror now, she'd wonder what people had thought when they'd seen her.

Jet black hair, curled and tangled beyond repair, and so long it could only ever get in the way, baggy clothes that didn't fit properly, worn combat boots and she hadn't even matched in the least, just thrown on what looked comfortable and functional enough to travel in.

Had they seen a child way in over their head? A little girl farther from home than she probably should be? Or did they simply not care?

What had they seen?

And what had her mother seen?

She could see now though, staring into the reflective surface, head tilted to the side and eyes looking so curiously at her own so foreign reflection, why her mother had been so persistent in trying to make her act like what she considered to be a lady. Why she'd tried so desperately to change her.

She was definitely her father's daughter.

Painfully so, and without a doubt, she couldn't place a part of her physical appearance that could be traced directly to her mother, or even someone from her side of the family. No, it was all her father's side. From ruffled, tangled head, to stubbed, scarred toe, every little bit had been molded from something that was in no way her mother or anyone else.

Even her face wasn't her mother's, but her aunt's on her father's side, a woman so tiny and delicate looking, there were apparently people around who still thought she sixteen years old when she was actually thirty-three.

But even all of that had to change.

So she'd said goodbye to long hair, allowed the stylist to do as she pleased. Took the rough looking renegade from Pallet and turned her into something that didn't look like something strange crawling out of the forest.

There'd been no helping those curls she'd gotten from her father, and she'd refused to wear contacts of any kind, but by the end of it, she'd almost been unable to recognize herself in the mirror.

She now had a neat little curled bob with three locks taken and died colors that represented the pokémon she'd started her journey with; yellow for Sparks, red for Sid, she'd had no clue what was up with the pink and blue, but it was supposed to represent Bow. She'd asked how that made any kind of sense, because last she'd checked an eevee wasn't pink and blue, but Diantha and the stylist had simply shared a knowing smile as their gazes drifted to the little ball of fur in question, who'd been let out of her pokéball alongside Sid so that Bella could get a good look at them all.

And just so she wouldn't be as miserable, Bella had called in a friend of hers to style her new furfrou's fur, because that was a thing apparently that people did in Kalos. And after a lot of debate, they'd settled on something the gentleman in question had termed a "Kabuki Trim".

Once everyone had been squared away, Diantha had taken them shopping.

Fuck shopping.

She didn't care if it would be productive in the end or bolster her self-esteem as a growing young girl or whatever. Screw everything the over-exuberant sales associate was insisting as she cluelessly dragged a now rather pissed thirteen year old and a far too amused champion through the aisles. This had to be the most asinine thing she'd ever done in her entire life.

Fuck shopping.

And fuck Diantha too, because this was entirely her fault and she would shamelessly blame the woman for this torture for years to come, she swore.

"Don't look so angry, you'll frighten the poor woman."

"I hate you… so… much right now…"

"Oh nonsense, I took you to get your hair cut, and even paid for it!" At the mention of her new "style", for lack of a better word, she ran her fingers through the now short locks. Now reaching just short of her shoulder, she'd found it to be far lighter than when it'd been so ridiculously long one couldn't help but roll their eyes at the sight.

She had rolled her eyes every morning trying to tame it to some degree.

"And I thank you for that, but I still hate you for this…"

"Just humor me, please?"

"…"

"Please?"

"Fine…"

"Oh, you'll absolutely love this skirt!"

"…" 'What the fuck… is that mass of frills?!'

A/N. Horrendously short chapter, I know, I'm sorry! But you'll get more I promise! Don't kill me! You won't get a sequel! *hides behind a very thick wall*

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