Yesterday, She Blooms (Chapter 2)

⚠️ Content Warning:

This chapter contains themes of emotional distress, transphobia, suicidal ideation, and references to past trauma including relationship abuse and gender dysphoria. It also includes a scene depicting a character preparing for a suicide attempt, followed by a magical intervention.

Reader discretion is advised. If you are affected by any of these topics, please consider reading with care and seeking support if needed.

Astrid trudged through the dimly lit street, her boots scuffing the pavement as flickering lampposts cast jagged shadows that danced like ghosts around her. Her tear-streaked face shimmered under the pale moonlight, mascara smudged into bruised shapes beneath her eyes. The familiar sights of this neighbourhood offered no comfort, each step only deepened the ache in her chest.

Even in her relationship with Tony, loneliness had clung to her like a second skin. He never truly saw her, not the way she needed to be seen. Not as Astrid.

Halfway home, she spotted a group of people ahead. Their laughter rang out, sharp and sudden. Instinctively, she veered down a side street, hoping to avoid attention. But they noticed her. Their footsteps quickened behind her, echoing off the walls. Her pulse spiked.

She couldn’t go back to Tony’s. Not after tonight. Not ever again.

Keeping to the main roads, she glanced over her shoulder, they were still following. Her breath came faster. She picked up the pace, heart pounding, until the glowing sign of a corner shop appeared like a beacon. She darted inside, the bell above the door jangling like a lifeline.

Inside, fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. The group passed by outside, their silhouettes fading into the night. Astrid exhaled shakily, her hands trembling. She needed something, anything, to quiet the storm inside her.

Her eyes landed on a bottle of spiced rum. She grabbed it without thinking, the promise of numbness too tempting to resist. At the till, she avoided the cashier’s gaze, paid in silence, and stepped back into the night.

The street was quiet now. Still haunted, but less threatening. She clutched the bottle tightly and made her way to the bus stop, her thoughts a blur of shame, fear, and exhaustion.

Astrid stepped into her flat and closed the door behind her with a soft click that echoed louder than it should have. The silence pressed in, thick and suffocating, as if the walls themselves were mourning alongside her. She let out a long, trembling sigh and dropped her bag to the floor.

Her fingers gripping the bottle of spiced rum, its amber glow catching the light like a cruel promise. She poured a glass, the clink of ice breaking the silence, and stared at it for a moment, then downed it in one swift motion. The burn in her throat was sharp, but it dulled the sharper ache in her chest.

She didn’t bother with another glass. The bottle tilted again, this time straight to her lips. The bitter taste mingled with the salt of her tears, and she let it. Let it all blur.

Tony’s words replayed in her mind like a broken record. The cruelty. The rejection. The way he looked at her, not with love, but with shame. She had given him her heart, and he’d crushed it beneath his own fear.

The room felt smaller now. Like a cage. Like a place she didn’t belong. The happy colours clashed with the darkness blooming inside her, a cruel mismatch between the room and her soul.

She wandered into the bedroom, her steps slow and heavy. Her eyes landed on the shibari rope tucked away in the drawer. Her hand hovered over it, trembling. She didn’t know what she was doing, only that she couldn’t stay here. Not like this. She grabbed it, stuffed it into her bag, and left the flat.

As Astrid stepped into the woods, a strange calm settled over her, a hush that wrapped around her like fog. The chaos of the day faded into the background, replaced by a quiet certainty. This, she thought, was the only way left. How could happiness exist in a world that refused to see her?

Her mum and Mustang cared, yes. But even their love couldn’t fill the hollow ache of being misunderstood, of being invisible.

She wandered deeper, searching for a that felt… right. Eventually, she found it, tall, ancient, its branches stretching like arms ready to hold her. It seemed to whisper her name, soft and solemn.

With trembling hands, she tied the rope to a sturdy limb, her breath catching in her throat.

Then she froze.

She hadn’t written a note. No goodbye. No explanation. The thought of leaving without telling her story, without giving voice to the pain, gnawed at her.

She pulled out her phone, fingers shaking, and opened her notes app. Line by line, she poured herself into the screen: the betrayal, the loneliness, the ache of waiting years for hormone therapy that never came. She wrote about Tony, about the way he made her feel like a secret, like a shame. She wrote about the stares, the silence, the weight of being trans in a world that didn’t want her to exist.

When she finished, she unlocked the security settings and removed the password. If someone found her phone, they’d find her truth.

Perched on the tree branch, tears cascading down her cheeks, Astrid stared into the quiet woods and wondered how her life had spiralled to this point. The weight of her grief pressed against her chest, each breath a struggle beneath the heaviness of regret.

Her thoughts drifted backward, tracing the path she wished she’d taken. What if she had come out sooner? What if she’d embraced her truth before the world taught her to hide it? She imagined a life untouched by the constraints of a marriage she never wanted, free from the pressure to adopt a faith she didn’t believe in. The sting of her ex-wife’s betrayal still lingered, but it was softened now by the fragile joy of finally living as herself.

Prom surfaced, a bitter-sweet ghost. She’d skipped it, unable to wear the dress she’d dreamed of, unable to show the world who she really was. That night had marked a quiet surrender, a moment where confusion and fear won. If only she’d known then what she knows now. Maybe she would’ve focused better. Maybe she would’ve felt whole.

Perched on the branch, Astrid’s heart ached for the life she longed for the milestones missed, the joy denied. Lost in the bitter-sweet haze of what could have been, a soft voice broke the silence.

“Hello,” it whispered, ethereal and warm, sending a shiver down her spine.

Astrid blinked, scanning the shadows. No one. But then, like a ripple in reality, a figure with vibrant blue hair shimmered into view beside her. Their presence was both mysterious and comforting, like moonlight wrapped in velvet.

“How’d you get here?” Astrid asked, her voice hoarse with emotion.

“I’ve been here the whole time,” the figure replied, tilting their head. Their enchanting purple eyes sparkled in the moonlight, and the air around them crackled with quiet magic. “I’m Cosmo. What’s your name?”

“I’m Astrid,” she whispered.

Cosmo smiled, and something in her chest loosened. “What a lovely name, Astrid. What’s been weighing on your heart?”

Astrid exhaled, the words tumbling out. “Life. I don’t even know where to begin.”

Cosmo’s gaze softened. “I’m here to listen. Take your time. You’re not alone.”

Astrid hesitated, then spoke. “I’m trans. I’ve been waiting for hormones for two years. It feels like I’m stuck. I’ve done everything I can, voice training, makeup but without hormones, I just… I don’t feel pretty. Sometimes I wish I’d come out when I was eleven. Maybe then I’d be closer to who I’m meant to be.”

Cosmo tilted their head, eyes full of wonder. “I don’t get it. You’re already pretty. And why the long wait for hormones?”

Astrid sighed. “I don’t feel pretty. Not really. The NHS waiting list is long. There are so many of us needing care, and not enough resources.”

Cosmo frowned thoughtfully. “The NHS… they’re like healers, right?”

Astrid nodded, a flicker of confusion in her eyes. “Yeah, kind of.”

Cosmo’s eyes shimmered with empathy. “So why aren’t they healing you? Hormones could help you feel more at home in your body, right?”

Astrid’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Exactly. But the system’s overwhelmed. We’re all waiting. And some of us… we’re running out of time.”

Cosmo’s expression softened, their eyes shimmering with empathy. “I can imagine how heavy that must feel. But it’s not just the hormones, is it?”

Astrid nodded slowly, her voice tinged with sorrow. “No… it’s more than that. My ex-boyfriend said some awful things. He called me a guy in a dress. Said he’s gay and only dated me so people wouldn’t think he was. Then he called me ugly.”

Cosmo’s eyes widened, their voice gentle but firm. “You’re not ugly, Astrid. You’re beautiful, just as you are. Is there anything I can do to ensure that you won’t end your life?”

Astrid’s breath hitched. “Thanks, but… it doesn’t change how I feel. I’m sorry, but there’s nothing any human can do. No one really understands the depth of this loneliness. The weight of feeling stuck. I’ve been waiting for hormones for two years. By the time I get them, half my life will be gone.”

Cosmo’s smile grew, warm and mysterious. “Oh, Astrid… you’re in for a surprise. You see, I’m not human. I’m Fae. Born of moonlight and moss, with the power to grant wishes.”

Astrid blinked, stunned. “You’re… a Fae?”

Cosmo nodded, their blue hair catching the moonlight like a flame. “We don’t often intervene. But sometimes, someone’s pain echoes so loudly, the forest itself calls for help. Tonight, it called for you.”

They extended a hand, hovering just shy of hers. “So let’s make a deal. One wish. No tricks. No riddles. Just truth. What does your heart truly want?”

Astrid’s eyes widened, a mix of wonder and wariness flickering across her face. “A Fae? Like the ones in stories? Aren’t you supposed to be mischievous, tricksters who demand more for bigger wishes?”

Cosmo chuckled, their laughter soft and melodic. “Some are, yes. But not me. I have a deep love for humans and a genuine desire to see them happy. As a Fae, I can make that happen. So tell me your wish, and I’ll reveal my price. It’s always the same.”

Astrid’s thoughts swirled, tangled in the weight of everything she’d lost. Even if she wished for hormones or a better life now, half of it had already slipped away. Her dad was gone. Prom had passed. The chance to grow up as herself felt like a dream she’d never been allowed to chase.

Tony’s cruelty still echoed in her chest, and the loneliness clung to her like fog. But just as doubt began to settle, something shifted, a flicker of light in the dark. An idea, fragile and radiant, streaked across her mind like a shooting star.

Astrid’s eyes lit up, a fragile glimmer of hope flickering through the darkness. “Is it possible for me to travel back in time to when I was eleven? So I can live my school years as my true self?”

Cosmo’s smile deepened, sensing the longing in her voice. “It is possible,” they said warmly. “If that is your deepest wish, I can send you back to the year 2007. But there are rules you must follow.”

Astrid’s voice was steady now, her determination shining through. “I’m willing to do anything. I knew I was different back then, I just didn’t have the words.”

Cosmo’s tone shifted, gentle but firm. “The rules are simple. You cannot reveal anyone’s impending death. But you may guide them toward better health or protect them from accidents. If you succeed, you’ll have more time with them, without consequence.”

Astrid’s breath caught. “So… there’s a chance I could save my dad?”

Cosmo nodded, their voice tinged with mystery. “If you can persuade him to see a doctor, yes. But no using future knowledge for personal gain. No bets, no predictions. And you must never say you’re from the future.”

Astrid hesitated. “What if I slip up?”

Cosmo smiled, a hint of magic in their eyes. “You won’t. The magic will stop you before the words leave your lips. But here’s something fun, you’ll get to experience every movie, every game, every moment as if it’s brand new. Déjà vu will be your companion.”

Astrid’s smile widened. “That sounds amazing. Is there anything else?”

Cosmo’s grin turned playful. “Yes, the best part. You’ll have the freedom to live your life exactly as you choose. Chase joy. Chase truth. While you’ll still face natural causes, accidents, and ageing, you’ll never be able to take your own life. And one day, on this very date, at this very time, return here and tell me your story. I want to hear how you bloomed.”

“Deal,” Astrid said, her voice clear and strong. The weight she’d carried for so long began to lift, replaced by something new: purpose.

“So,” she asked, “when do we start?”

Cosmo’s eyes twinkled. “Patience, my dear. We have a minute before the magic takes hold. Let’s choose your moment.”

Astrid closed her eyes, thinking. “The beginning of the six-week holidays in 2007,” she said softly. “It’ll give me time to adjust. To plan. To come out.”

Cosmo’s purple irises glowed brighter, swirling with light. The air around them crackled, and Astrid felt a strange warmth coursing through her veins. Purple light erupted from Cosmo, wrapping around her like a cocoon.

Overwhelmed, Astrid embraced the glow.

And as her consciousness faded, she whispered goodbye to the life she’d known.