Madison blinked awake at the sound of her alarm, with a yawning roar. She rolled over her bed and checked the time; 06:30AM. Just as she expected.
Her routine in the past wasn't that much different from her routine in the present. She got up, dug around her drawer clothes- momentarily confused by the lack of pants, until she remembered she never started wearing them until her stars grew in at twelve. She then stomped her hooves towards the bathroom, brushing her teeth.
In the hallway, her parents were getting dressed. She never did figure out what exactly they worked as; she knew they both worked in the same office- that was how they'd met, but what company or what positions they took, she had no idea. The idea of asking came to her, now that she had the foresight to do so, but she thought better of it.
It was surreal, going through the motions in her old home and knowing more or less exactly what to do and where everything was. This hadn't been her home in years. But for now, the urgency to get to school on time took over the urge to keep gawking at everything.
She'd made her way to the kitchen downstairs, muscle memory bidding her to pour herself a cup of coffee, when she was suddenly made very aware of her mother looking at her, in disbelief.
"Don't touch that," Tessielorce smacked Madison's paw away from the kettle, causing her daughter to yelp in surprise, "You'll burn yourself."
"Okay, I won't," Madison grumbled, groggily, stepping aside. A warm, gooey feeling rose up inside her; so her mother cared, after all. When she was ten, at least.
"Don't give me that attitude," her mother scolded, and that gooey feeling was replaced with irritation. What attitude? Tessielorce cocked her head towards the living room, "Sit."
Not having nearly enough energy to argue further, Madison did as she was told, sitting on the couch, waiting for breakfast to be served.
She'd daydreamed about this, before; being served meals by her family like when she was a kid. Madison had long grown used to preparing her own food; or if she didn't have the spoons, either order or go to a restaurant. She never imagined waiting like this again to feel so awkward, though; and once again, she couldn't place why. Was it embarrassment?
The clatter of dishes being done, her parents' rapid-fire conversations, and her mother's still-not-yet-turned-off alarm clock rattled in her ears, uncomfortably. Maybe she'd gotten a little too used to living on her own; her usual go-to was turning on a relaxing music stream while she went through her routine in the quiet. She'd been to gatherings and parties with her colleagues, before; mostly out of obligation or for the sake of networking, but none of them happened in the early morning.
Relief washed over her when Darius shimmered into view while she was eating the cheese-and-butter sandwich her mother prepared. Finally, a distraction to dull out the noise.
The angel in question looked around the place, whistling, "Nice house."
Madison shrugged, "Nice enough."
"You look so tiny," Darius observed, hovering closer to her, "I think you're even smaller than Akeidat."
She probably was, honestly. Her body was ten. Akeidat was eleven. It was simple arithmetic. Amused, Madison slowly pushed Darius away with a finger to his chest, "Alright, Tinker Bell."
"Hey!" Darius playfully remarked, twirling in the air to float upside-down, "You're so- round, and blue, like a little blueberry. How's it feel? I know Akeidat had a little trouble walking, 'cus they were so tall."
"They did?" Madison replied. She lifted a hoof up, crossing it over the other and shaking it in a manner that her parents would surely derogatorily call her a 'gangster' for.
Honestly? She felt amazing, "I'm doing great!"
When breakfast was over and done with, Madison strapped on her bag and followed her parents out the front door. Alehis tapped his right hoof impatiently, whilst Tessielorce kept checking her watch; until, finally, an all-too-familiar bus rounded the corner.
When Madison boarded, she was immediately assaulted by a barrage of noise. She flattened her ears with a wince, as she climbed the stairs and the noise grew louder. Squinting against the blinding ceiling lights, Madison quickly assessed her options.
The seats lining the back were all taken, and it looked about as chaotic as a circus there, so Madison picked a seat closer to the front, where it was the most quiet.
Normally, when she was on the bus, Madison would pass the time by scrolling through her phone, or listening to music. Now she had access to neither. The book in her bag- she wanted to save it for the silent reading session.
So Madison hugged her bag closer, resting her snout atop it, and closed her eyes, attempting to sleep through the ride. She saw Darius hover awkwardly out of the corner of her eye, before he eventually flew next to her to sit on the windowsill, his hooves dangling restlessly.
Madison snorted.
As more children boarded, and Madison straddled the line of being half-awake and half-asleep, she looked over to find Darius staring at her, frowning. She pointedly raised an eyebrow, "Yeah?"
Darius, clearly not expecting her to speak, stuttered, "Well, I, j- ah, sorry, if it's rude to ask, but-"
"Not at all," Madison prompted, tiredly, then bit her lip as it came out sounding much more sarcastic than she'd really meant it, before tacking on, "Really."
"Okay, I just- Why's everyone avoiding you?" he asked, at last, with the biggest, saddest, puppy-drenched-in-rain eyes Madison had ever seen.
Madison was nonplussed, "They are?"
She looked around her. To be completely honest, Madison had been so tired, and so focused on drowning out all the racket, that paying attention to what the other kids were doing hadn't even crossed her mind. Now that she was...
As soon as the next batch of kids boarded the bus, they briefly locked eye contact with her sleepy stare, before making faces of exaggerated disgust, then hurriedly rushing inside. When the vehicle started moving again, Madison poked her head out, looking behind and in front of her seat; the bus was nearly full. Nearly every other two seats were taken- except the one next to hers.
...Yeah, she was being avoided.
There it was again. That strange, unidentifiable feeling, like her chest was being twisted into a knot. Weird.
"Eh, don't really mind," Madison shrugged, as much as one could when her arms were wrapped around a big bag in front of her, "Means, uh- means more space for me."
Darius did not cease looking like the world's saddest wet cat, "Aw, Madison-"
"It's really fine," Madison sighed, exasperatedly. She smirked, "I, uh, I honestly could not give two shits about what some- some snot-nosed literal children think about me."
He looked contemplative, "So, did this happen a lot?"
"I guess," she shrugged again, yawning. A tinge of annoyance flared up within her; what was he, her therapist? But she elected not to voice her thoughts. Not worth turning it into a whole thing.
Maybe being avoided could've stung once, when she was actually younger; even now, she knew the flickers of the burning hot anger she had for the rest of the world; but she just saw it as another fond childhood memory, at this point. A time when name-calling, of all things, was the biggest thing for her to be cross about.
It wasn't like she lost the ability to be angry; far from it. But it's been a long thirty two years, and Madison was far too tired to pursue any major course of action.
At the continuation of Darius' sad look, she insisted, "It's okay."
"Doesn't it bother you?"
She squinted at him, incredulously.
"Dare, I know I'm- uh, I know I'm in my kid self's body, but I am in my thirties," she deadpanned, "You try being a full-ass adult and imagining a bunch of actual, uh, actual infants calling you names without just thinking it's really funny."
"They called you names?"
"Oh my God," Madison groaned, stuffing her head back onto her bag, "It's fiiiine. Just let me sleep."
When Madison alighted the bus at the school's parking lot, several minutes later, Madison stood in the midst of the crowd of students, stepping a few hoofsteps back, to admire the view of her school, wistfully. Then her gaze turned to the students; splitting up from the central lobby into two main groups, disappearing into opposite directions of the school.
Madison was gonna be real: She had absolutely no idea where she was supposed to go next. Not for assembly, and certainly not the rest of the day. Her memories of the past swirled together in a blurry mass; she remembered sitting out in the parade square, but she also remembered sitting in the indoor hall; and she had a vague recollection of the assembly locations switching, depending on the day of the week.
"That's so many kids," Darius commented, looking over the crowd of bright neon, a kaleidoscope of rainbow colours, "It's like I'm looking at the back of a cereal box."
He then looked to his side, only to find that Madison had begun wandering off without him, "Hey- Where are you going?"
"Staff office," she replied, plainly, "Gotta figure out where my- um, my classes are."
"Ah. Right," Darius followed her, looking around the hallways of the school, curiously. Madison marched onwards, passing by the school garden where the chickens were bawking, occasionally looking back to check that he was keeping up.
Suddenly, Darius chuckled, then held a paw to his mouth, like he wasn't expecting himself to laugh.
"Hm?"
"Sorry, sorry," he scratched the base of his thumb, fidgeting sheepishly, "It's just- all these posters, and decorations-" his eyes flickered to the direction of some poster on the wall, advertising the release of a movie Madison hadn't heard hide nor hair of in decades, "this really is 2000, huh?"
She snorted, "Sure is."
She came to a stop by a glass door- unique from its metal and wooden brethren scattered around the rest of the school- guarding behind it, a bright office area where a handful of adults passed along papers and chatted inside.
Madison knocked on the glass. Eventually, someone came along to ask for her name and identification number. Conversation with professional looking suits came to her, far too easily. If anyone thought something odd of the supposed ten-year-old who spoke with an almost blasé confidence, yet the exceedingly polite and formal vocabulary, grammar, and tone to back it up; not a word was uttered. Madison wasn't fond of speaking like this- it always felt like she was deceiving someone- but it was either this, or being a stuttering mess.
When she was let out of the office by a kindly teacher already on their way out, only a few short minutes later, Madison now carried with her a timetable, and instructions to find her classmates assembled in the indoor hall.
She arrived mere minutes before the assembly was supposed to start, ready to dump her bag and herself at the very end of the two rows her classmates were sitting in. Before she reached the back, though; Madison caught a glimpse of Charles glancing at her from the middle; sandwiched by students from her front and back, but not a soul willing to sit by her side.
The choice was easy. Madison sat next to her, thanking her friend for the spot.
"Friend of yours?" Darius queried. Madison nodded, quietly.
The clock struck eight, and a hush fell over the hall, as the teachers patrolled up and down, telling children to read. Madison dug out Expedition from her bag, quickly finding herself engrossed. Next to her, Charles pulled out a- was that a kids' botany book? Odd choice in reading material. Madison wasn't one to judge, though.
Already, she could spot a handful of unlucky students, without books, made to stand up in the midst of a sea of their sitting peers.
She remembered having done that, once, in Secondary School. She'd forgotten to pack a book, and spent the next- however-long-the-silent-reading-session-was standing until her hooves hurt, and she ended up standing on one hoof like a flamingo, switching to the other hoof when it got too tired.
Madison went back to reading.
An hour or so later, everything in Madison's bones ached. This was not a new sensation to her, but it was unexpected in regards to having the body of her younger self.
After silent reading, she wasn't able to sleep through the rest of the assembly as she'd planned. Instead, her and the rest of the student body were greeted with a screen projection of a... very late 90s fitness video, complete with the cheesiest music and most unnerving smiles Madison had ever seen.
As an adult, and a babysitter, she sort of understood the need for encouraging kids to exercise. As an individual, Madison had never been one for workouts; and never really exerted much of her physical energy after she graduated from Secondary School. She preferred taking long, relaxing walks in the middle of the night. So, suffice to say, by the time they were allowed to sit, Madison was exhausted.
Darius, to his credit, didn't start laughing. He sat further away, on one of the windowsills of the hall, patiently waiting until the children were finally dismissed, class by class.
She followed her classmates out of the hall, towards their classroom; flattening her ears as much as she could against the onslaught of hoofsteps and talking. She didn't know why the noise bothered her so much; at work, when her colleagues grew particularly chatty, Madison was usually able to tune it out and get on with her day. But now, they drummed in her heart, and every word uttered felt like a personal affront against her hearing.
And then there was the stairs. Madison did completely forget about that; students weren't allowed to take the elevators. Not unless they were staff. Madison thanked her lucky stars that the ache of her knees didn't seem to carry over; but her clumsiness and lack of balance seemed to increase tenfold, in a body far shorter than she was used to. With every step, Madison was sure she was about to misplace her hoof and fall.
She didn't remember arriving to class, but here she was, standing by the doorway, as her classmates and a teacher she honestly couldn't remember the name of plunked their bags and sat at their desks.
At least the worst of it was probably over. She was an adult, with more knowledge and experience than her younger self could ever hope to dream of having. Classes were going to be a breeze; what did ten year olds do, anyway? Lick lollipops and count their ABCs?
"Mx.- Miss- uh, Teacher," was the greeting she settled for, approaching her teacher's desk, "I don't remember where my seat is."
"You forgot in the middle of the semester?" they questioned, incredulously, which she supposed was a little fair. Madison only shrugged in reply, as the teacher dug through their bag, skimming through a sheet of paper until they pointed at a desk near the door, the second row to the front.
Charles was sitting farther away, at the back. Madison tried to ignore the mild disappointment wafting through her as she sat.
Madison's memory of events was... hazy, going forward. She ran on autopilot, more than anything, and try as she might, her attention slipped in and out, waxing and waning like phases of the moon. At some point, everyone stood up to exchange greetings with the teacher. She caught her name, said by the other students while she stayed silent, but as soon as it was said, the name slipped away from her, like sand through fingers.
Then her teacher kept talking, and talking, and it seemed there was a lot more of just sitting around, doing nothing, and waiting for something to end, to being a child, than she remembered. She didn't quite fancy it. At least she could not-so-discretely read E-books on her work computer.
One thing she sorely missed about being an adult was the ability to just leave when she wasn't needed. Even if she couldn't exit the office until clocking out hours, she could at least go somewhere else within the building. She knew she could go to the restroom if she asked, but it felt strange, having to ask, in the first place.
It was minutes- or maybe half-an-hour, Madison couldn't tell- of listening to the teacher yammer on about a life story completely unrelated to the lesson, until a worksheet produced itself under her snout.
18 - 3 x 4 - (2 x 3) ÷ 2 = _____
She reached into her bag, and belatedly realised, with increasing panic, that she didn't have a calculator. Nobody here did; not until Secondary. Something about challenging young minds to use their brains first before relying on devices later on.
She flipped through the rest of the worksheet. The questions weren't anything too advanced for a working adult in her thirties with a background in studying finance, of all things; but mathematics still had never been her strong suit. Maybe doing her younger self's schoolwork was going to be a little harder than she thought.
Oh, fuck, she didn't remember how to do long division.
Recess was also adept at unlocking memories she didn't even know she had. The canteen was a sea of noise, and Madison didn't particularly feel like getting caught up in the middle of it all. She spent the first fifteen minutes hiding away in the school library, reading books she hadn't read in ages, before eventually returning to the now considerably-emptier canteen, after most of the others had gone to play their sports, or whatever it was children did.
Then came P.E. Madison's classmates were chattering noisily amongst themselves, as they all trickled into the school's gym hall. The sight of it, even in the dark, made Madison breathe in awe. She always remembered this place appearing large, but this was even bigger than she remembered.
The walls were taller than a two-story building, a row of giant fans hanging ominously from the sloped ceiling. The breadth of the hall was about a third larger than the school's parade square, the white lines and semicircles of a basketball court sprawling across the polished, wooden floor. Benches, doors, smaller fans, and shuttered windows lined the side. As more of her classmates entered, the louder a growing chorus of "Ooooo"s. She forgot that was something her classmates did- scaring each other with ghost stories and sounds whenever they entered even mildly dark and empty spaces.
In any case, someone eventually switched the lights- and the fans- on. There was a call to sit on the ground, somewhere, while the P.E teacher talked. Then foam balls were being passed around, and apparently, they were playing some kind of sport. Madison didn't catch the name.
One of the main things Madison remembered about P.E, was that she was absolutely horrible at it. She wasn't quite fit in the first place- and she'd long since known of her own lack of coordination, but she always felt especially out of place, seeing her classmates effortlessly pass around balls and run laps around the place, while she was left fumbling. It felt especially wretched when it came to team-based sports. It was either sitting by the sidelines as a reserve player, or letting her team down.
Madison grunted, as she picked herself up from the ground where she just fell for the umpteenth time. Her knees and palms were littered with dust and grime, the greyish-black stinging on her skin, and smelly.
Soon after she fell, the teacher relegated her to- once again, sit by the sidelines, as she recovered. Madison spent the next eon picking out the grime out of her fur.
She swore she used to be at least a little bit better at this. She was never going to win any awards, any time soon, but she remembered having improved into being a somewhat not-so-horrible player in Secondary School; but it appears her halfway-of-a-skill had gone down the drain.
Madison's fur bristled with frustration. The worst part is, she couldn't tell why she'd suddenly become even worse at sports than she had at any other point in her life. Was it her muscle memory? Was it because she hasn't really worked out since she was a freshman in college? Was it because of her body being younger than she was used to? Was it because of her usual clumsiness? Was it all of the above?
She watched, numbly, as the others moved effortlessly around the hall. She wished she had her phone with her, to at least read up on something. Her fingers were twitching with withdrawal.
A part of her mind reminded her that even if she did have a phone, much less a modern one, it'd get confiscated as soon as she dug it out. She supposed it was fair enough; she'd do the same, if it meant getting students to pay attention more- but it still meant she was incredibly bored, waiting for the lesson to be over.
She wished she'd brought along her bag instead of leaving it in the classroom. Maybe reading about telescopes for the millionth time would soothe her ills.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Oh, now she was literally counting the seconds on the clock. The office she worked in didn't have a wall clock, funnily enough. Something about budget cuts. Everyone always looked at either their watches, or their screens.
“You… you doing alright?” Darius asked, tentatively, as Madison leaned on the wall behind her, limbs constricting so as to not knock over her classmates' water bottles.
“School is… different than I remembered,” she conceded, reluctantly. Darius gave a nervous huff of laughter in agreement, the buzzing of fans and the drumming of Madison’s fingers against the seat filling their ears.
"I mean- it's still kinda nice?" She shrugged, "I don't- I don't gotta worry about money, I guess."
"Hah, that is true," Darius grinned. He sat next to her on the seat, tall and full-sized. He followed her action in leaning back against the table, crossing his legs. Even indoors, his orange-gold hooves glistened in the sunlight seeping through the cracks. He pursed his lips, evidently trying to come up with something to say, then, "Can I ask a... maybe rude and personal question?"
Madison perked her ears up, "What's the question?"
"Why'd you wish to be a kid again?"
Oh. That kind of rude and personal question. At her silence, Darius immediately backpedaled, "On second thought, never-mind- just forget I said anything, sorry, I-"
"What? No, you're- it's fine," she clarified, leaning forwards, "I just- uh. The question just caught me a little off-guard, but it's fine."
Darius stilled, "...Okay?"
Madison paused to gather her thoughts.
"Nostalgia, I guess," she began, looking around her, "I mean- who wouldn't wanna be a kid again? It's- hah, it's the dream of every adult. Everything's so much- so much simpler, and easier, when you're a kid."
"Is it, though?" the angel looked doubtful, "You don't look very relaxed."
"I-" She huffed. Madison chewed on her last biscuit stick, closing her lunchbox, "Maybe I just, um, just need time to get used to it, again. It's only been, like, one day."
"Hm," Darius hummed, "Maybe. Hah, what do I know? It's your life."
The two were quiet.
"It feels kinda weird," admitted Madison, barely above a whisper.
The angel tilted his head, "How so?"
"It's like..." Madison paused.
"It's like- wearing- um- it's like putting on a glove I haven't worn in a while, I guess," she twirled her paw around in a vague gesture, the comparison imperfect, "Or- whatever. I just think some of it caught me, uh, off-guard at first, since I don't remember everything."
"That's fair, I think," Darius scratched his cheeks as he spoke, "I think you'll get the hang of it more, soon enough! You already built those old habits in the past, and now you're literally in the perfect environment to reawaken 'em!"
"Yeah?" Madison grinned, "Learn that in a- um, an Angel's Guide To Mortals textbook, somewhere?"
"Ah-hah-hah-hah," he laughed, "Something like that, yeah."
“Can I ask you a rude and personal question?” said Madison. Darius' ears flattened, but he didn't voice his protests further, "What happened with you and Kei?"
The angel bit his lip.
"I..." he winced, "It was my fault, really. They were- their future roommate-" Madison's eyebrows shot up to space, but the angel didn't elaborate, "Just- I think they might've been a little overwhelmed, and me talking was the final straw. They were tired, but it's- it's fine."
“...Huh.” Akeidat's babysitter twirled her water bottle like it was a wine glass, in thought- watching with mild bemusement as the motion formed a tornado-like spiralling shape in the water, "The thing you've gotta know about Kei, right, is that they're a quiet kid. Not like the, um, rambunctious hooligans ya' might expect- Akeidat's whole deal is that they wanna be all mature and grown-up."
“It's really funny, actually. Also kinda cute,” she chuckled, "Don't tell 'em I said that, they'll throw a tantrum. But just- don't push them when they're not ready, and they'll talk when they want to. Kei can't stand not showing off how they're the smartest person in the room."
"...Are you not worried?" Darius asked, finally, "Got any idea why Akeidat wants to grow up so fast? Most kids wish for, I dunno, a new action figure, or a video game, or something, don't they?"
“Every kid wants to grow up faster,” Madison snorted. If a kid really wanted it; a toy and a video game could just be bought, if they begged their parents enough. Years were harder to come by, "I wouldn't, uh, worry about it, man."
Darius still seemed unconvinced, but he let the matter be.
The rest of the day went by without much preamble. Classes, worksheets- Madison was able to secretly finish half of her homework under the table while the teachers were still talking away. It was hours later, after post-curriculum classes she'd forgot she even had, when Madison finally caught the bus home. A public bus, this time. Not a school one.
She stopped at her door.
"Are you okay?" asked Darius.
Madison paused. Gently, she pressed her paw against the door, resting her forehead on it, contemplating. Did she really want to tell him about the yet-to-be troubles of her home life, and the strange feeling of wrongness? No, she really didn't. She couldn't be a bother, not after she already dragged him around with her for the entire school day. It was embarassing. Surely, her overthinking mind was just being dramatic; and so she said, "Yeah, uh. Sorry, I'm just tired."
"Actually," she began, "You can, uh, just leave now."
Best not to get him involved in her own messes. But instead of disappearing straight away, he seemed surprised, and even worried.
"Wait, why do you want me to leave?" he questioned, not accusingly.
Because she didn't want him to see her when she was in a mood. Because as friendly as he was, she barely knew him. Because she didn't deserve pity when she was a fundamentally worthless leech on society. Because if there was a problem, she wasn't worth the effort, and could handle everything herself.
"Just, uh," she paused. Then she put on her slimiest smile. Pitch the idea like you're pitching to an audience, "Oh, come on, you've already seen my home this morning, right?"
"Well, yeah," Darius acquiesced, "But you-"
"We- there's a whole myriad of other places you can explore," she announced, "Aren't you curious? Don't you want to check them out? Stretch your wings and go for a quality adventure?"
"But that's not what I'm here for," he protested, "I'm your guardian angel, it's my responsibility-"
"Then go look after Akeidat," she insisted.
There was a stagnant pause.
"You don't gotta worry about me," she said, "Come on, I'm giving you a once-in-a-lifetime offer, here, free of charge. Don't you want to take advantage of this opportunity you're given?"
It was a manipulative and leading question, Madison knew, but persuasion was the one thing she could ever be good at. Whether she liked it, or not.
And she didn't. Like it, that is. Every word felt like a declaration of her sins, burning her tongue; but what other choice did she have, if she wanted him to leave?
Darius looked torn. But, eventually...
"Alright, I'll go," he said, though he still fidgeted with his paws, restlessly. He looked her in the eyes a final time, "But please, be good to yourself, okay?"
He did not leave until Madison muttered, "...Sure."
And with a snap of his fingers and a flash of golden light, her guardian angel was gone.
Feeling heavier, Madison wasted no further time. She stepped back. She rang the doorbell, and waited to be let home.