Rows upon rows of stores lined up like soldiers. Dresses floated on holographic mannequins. AI mirrors called out recommendations. A giant screen played a model walking dramatically in slow motion while dramatic music played.
Mom inhaled deeply. "Smell that, Denver."
"…What am I supposed to smell?"
"DISCOUNTS."
Denver felt utterly hopeless.
Mom marched into the first store like a general storming a battlefield. Staff members bowed instinctively, sensing a legendary customer had arrived.
"Excuse me," Mom said sweetly. "I need outfits for my daughter. Casual, formal, cute, cool, mysterious, villainess-core, and at least three embarrassing ones."
The clerk nodded seriously. "Of course, ma'am."
"WHY EMBARRASSING ONES?!" Denver whispered.
Mom smiled. "For memories."
Dion eventually caught up, holding a paladin keychain, three posters, and a limited-edition Robert the Mountain Giant mug.
"…Why are you holding a shopping bag?" Denver asked.
He looked away. "It was on sale."
Mom clapped her hands again. "Perfect! You're here to give opinions!"
Dion froze. "Why?"
"Because brothers must judge their sister's outfits."
He looked at Denver, Denver looked back. Both of them knew this was war then mom shoved Denver into the fitting room with a mountain of clothes.
"Try them ALL," Mom commanded.
Denver stared at the pile. "…Uh, Mom? Am I supposed to wear all of these?"
"Yup. All of them."
"But-"
"Ah-ah. No 'buts.' Just do it."
Denver slowly turned toward the fitting room like a soldier walking to the battlefield.
"…I regret everything."
Dion crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. "Haha good luck in there,"
Mom smiled sweetly. "You're next."
"What?!" Dion froze.
Minutes later, Denver stepped out wearing the first outfit a simple casual dress. Mom gasped Dion glanced, then looked away instantly, ears red.
"…It's fine," he said.
"JUST FINE?!" Mom yelled. "THIS IS YOUR SISTER!"
"She's not my... I mean... she used to be my... ugh forget it, this is weird!" Dion shouted.
Next outfit elegant, mature, office lady vibes.
Mom clasped her chest. "She looks like she's about to ruin a CEO's life."
Dion stared for two seconds too long. "Yeah… this one is fine... I guess."
Denver smirked. "You're terrible at lying."
Next outfit cute pastel, frilly, ribbons everywhere.
Mom squealed. "MY DAUGHTER IS AN ANGEL!"
Dion turned into a statue. "Uh... not bad..."
Next outfit edgy black jacket, boots, cool girl energy.
Mom nodded proudly. "She looks like a protagonist."
Dion whispered, "…She looks cool."
Denver heard that and finally, mom held up a suspiciously flashy dress.
"Try this one."
Denver looked at the dress, then she looked at mom.
"No."
"Try it."
"No."
"TRY IT."
Denver came out looking like a walking idol stage costume. Dion burst out laughing. "Hah! you look like a limited edition gacha character!"
Mom took pictures.
After what felt like hours and a financial disaster, Mom pushed a cart filled with clothes like she was stocking an entire boutique.
Denver collapsed on a bench. "I am never shopping again."
Dion sat beside her, holding another Paladin poster. "This wasn't that bad."
"You weren't the one being turned into a fashion experiment!"
He shrugged, pretending not to care. "…You looked fine."
Denver blinked.
Mom overheard and grinned like a demon queen.
"Next stop," she announced, pushing the cart with terrifying speed, "SHOES."
Both siblings screamed internally.
By the time Mom finished dragging Denver through half the clothing industry, the sun had already started leaning toward the horizon.
Dresses, skirts, tops, accessories, Denver had tried so many outfits that she felt more like a mannequin than a human. Dion had long since given up and was sitting on a bench, questioning his life choices. Finally, Mom stood at the counter with an absurd mountain of shopping bags.
The cashier blinked twice. "Will this be cash or card?"
Mom smiled like a victorious general. "Both."
As the payment process began, Dion stretched and looked around.
"I'll be back," he said casually. "I need to check something."
Mom waved him off, too busy watching the receipt print like a cursed scroll and then Denver suddenly felt a familiar and very urgent problem.
"…Mom, I'm going to the restroom."
"Don't get lost," Mom replied, already calculating how much money she didn't regret spending.
Denver walked through the mall, following signs until she finally found the restroom area. Walking toward it she did not see the sign, labeled as male restroom she was heading toward the opposite comfort room instead of the female restroom.
She nodded seriously to herself, then immediately walked straight toward the male restroom out of pure habit. She was about to step inside when-
"DENVER!"
She jumped like she stepped on a landmine, Dion grabbed the back of her collar and yanked her away.
"What are you doing?!" he hissed.
She blinked. "Can't you see? obviously I'm going to the restroom."
"That's the men's bathroom."
"…Oh."
It took three seconds for realization to hit, her brain crashed.
System error. Identity not found.
"…OH."
She slowly turned her head toward the women's restroom like it was a boss dungeon.
"I forgot," she whispered.
Dion pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're hopeless, just go before you cause an incident."
She stared at the entrance like it was a portal to another dimension.
"Women are terrifying creatures," she muttered. "Mom is the only one I've talked to in years."
"JUST GO," Dion pushed her.
Denver entered the women's restroom. It was… normal, clean and quiet, which somehow made it scarier. She rushed into a stall, locked the door, and sat there in silence.
"…Okay, so how do women even-"
She froze.
Her brain had no idea what to do this was not in the manual. She stared at the wall, questioning her existence, her curse, and the universe itself. After what felt like an eternity and several moments of internal screaming, she finally figured it out through sheer trial, error, and prayer.
"…Why did no one prepare me for this?"
Dion leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
"…Why is she taking so long?"
He looked to his right, a crowd was forming near the central plaza of the mall. People were whispering, cameras were out and the security was rushing.
"…Huh?"
Finally, Denver walked out, her face pale, eyes hollow, soul clearly damaged. She walked toward Dion like a war survivor, he was staring at the crowd.
She followed his gaze. "What's happening over there?"
Dion squinted. "A Gift User showed up. I think it's a famous one."
Denver's heart skipped a beat.
A real Gift User.
In the flesh.