And Leiyun waited. She skipped visits to the Schoolhouse every day to look after her siblings. She waited, every day, for her Nainai and Taitai to show up. For her Nai and Tai to come back. And every night she crawled and slept on the floor.

She was growing alongside her siblings, and now realized she had to renovate the home to fit their needs.

She bought supplies from the Oceanuris Market with what little she had. She sewed chunky beds out of foam for each sibling, one short for herself.

She learned to cook with the matcho leaves, Bes leaves, and Ballo pistils. She had to teach everything herself, because there would be no time to find her Adulther in the Schoolhouse.

She learned to find a job, to get the currency necessary to feed her family.

Her siblings, Yeserno and Laminia, were now eight years old, with Uwala turning only five.

They all agreed that a parent takes care of the family. Be it Nai or Tai.

And without Leiyun saying it, they had now referred to her as "Nai".

To them, thirteen year old Leiyun was their Nai.

She was now a grown-up.

#

Even though Leiyun had dropped her classes early on, she signed her kids into the same Schoolhouse that she used to go to. It never had a fancy name with an animal mascot–which were mostly mammals with flowery, symbolic meanings. None of the Schoolhouses in Oceanuris did, actually.

But they all knew exactly where it was; it was in the middle of the Oceanuris Market streets, with loud vendors outside, a cobblestone path, and a sculptor selling creations to passersby.

And every day, Leiyun sent them off to the Schoolhouse. She stood outside of the Schoolhouse, with a basket in her hand and her three kids.

The first child, Yeserno, was tall with unruly, curly hair and chapped lips. He was the older twin. A little distant at times–even his family would say so.

The second child, Laminia, had frizzy hair and a garden of freckles on her face. She was the younger twin–a stair step below her older twin;s height–and quite thin. Her frizzy hair was afro-like and it uncontrollably shedded everywhere. Her purple dress was patterned with darker purple triangles along the hemline.

The third child, Uwala, was the youngest of them all. He was the shortest one–being a toddler, there was really no surprise. His freckles sprayed only a bit around the nose, and his cheeks were often rosy. His fingers weren't the biggest either, but perhaps that's what made him quite cute. He almost looked like a human teddybear–just short of the bear ears.

Nai Leiyun smiled at each one of her kids.

"Alright, you guys have fun at the schoolhouse, okay? Love you all."

Yeserno glanced up, saying, "K, bye Nai," and turned around, walking away nonchalantly.

"Bye, Nai, love you," Laminia bowed and curtsied slightly before turning away and heading inside, not far from her brother.

Uwala hugged Nai Leiyun from her waist.

"Love you, Nainai." He gave a squiggly smile to her.

"Love you too, Uwala. Have fun."

#

Has Nai Leiyun ever gone to the Schoolhouse before? Uwala wondered as he walked through the wide room on the bottom floor. There were four floors in total, with one big classroom in each floor based on a certain age group, and a staircase for the Stepmates and Adulthers to take. There were only two bathrooms in the entire building, quite a mistake–Uwala thought–in classrooms holding at least thirty to forty kids. (Which for some reason, had kids disappear on such infrequent occasions from Step 1. And the thought of it made Uwala shiver.)

His classroom was on the top floor; Step 1.

There were four "Steps" in every kid's education. Step 1 was with all the little kids and Stepmates, where they'd learn basic fundamentals of math and reading. They also were taught home economics; first learning to cook at age fifteen was considered an embarrassment.

Step 2 held all the preteens–from ages eight to eleven, that's where his older twins would be at. The second-highest floor, teaching sciences and art. They also taught Oceanuris History, and of course, more home economics. You have to learn to survive, after all.

Step 3 was a floor below, the "pre-graduates", which was what the Adulthers liked to call them. The youngest there would be twelve–that seemed grown-up already to Uwala! They learned all that they did in those lesson-heavy years, and by Step 4, they would find a career and become all grown-up at 15 or 16.

The bottom floor was empty for this reason–and the fact that Stepmates had to scurry everywhere.

He dreaded each one of these school days. Unlike his twin siblings–Yeserno and Laminia–he had no one to sit by in class. He was a shy child. He was a quiet child.

But that wasn't like many kids his age. In the Step 1 classroom, toddlers there would be loud and kicking table legs out of boredom, with a giggle or two from a joke the Adulther found both tiring and unfunny. They would also be blunt sometimes and saying whatever came to their mind–never intentionally though, Uwala knew.

He also had a hard time explaining his answers, and had a hard time saying that he found them.

Uwala dragged and landed each foot slowly when he climbed to class on those stairs. It wouldn't matter, since he'd have to speed up just to get inside. He felt his feet wobble and sweat from under the knee, and his stomach would feel airy and twisted.

And perhaps he wasn't dreading his Stepmates there; he was scared. Oh, how he couldn't wait to get to Step 4 and become an adult. He would have his life figured out, he would be brave and stand up for himself and not be a sheep in his bear costume.

Bears were brave and courageous, yes?

So why wasn't I?

Uwala sighed to himself helplessly.

And then the bell rang.

#

Laminia sat down and took a long, drawn out sigh. She folded her hands still on the table and sighed, again. The first bell had just rung, so class would now be in session.

She glanced around the room, which was quite large. No Adulther yet, she thought. Stretching to the other side of the room was her older brother, busy talking and snickering to his friends. They must be talking about me. His desk was close to the door, but by at least two feet (or perhaps, about sixty centimeters). And each desk was arranged in an array, six desks by seven, facing the teacher and paper on a board, with a hint of a yellow sheen to it.

A Stepmate glanced at her and winced, quickly jerking away and scribbling with their finger as if they had been the whole time. Laminia remembered her name to be Cotton.

Cotton had long, heavenly straight strands, thin and delicate. No breakage or split ends were found on the cinnamon-skinned girl. Oh, how her cream-colored eyes shined like opal, and how her long hair framed her face like an elegant curtain of midnight blue. Her face was so clear and silky, like her face was gold.

Laminia shot her head away and covered her nose and mouth with her right hand. The Graphie stem nearly rolled off the counter from her sudden jerk. But with a quick swoosh!, she caught it with her other free hand, and placed it on her desk.

She knew this was going to happen, it always had. Her classmates were practically like Step 4 students, to be so beautiful and know themselves like a painter to the brush. To know what to do to feel confident and look beautiful. They were like grown-ups to her already, looking wonderful and self-assured. She couldn't stress enough how gorgeous every eight and nine and ten and eleven year old looked.

Even her brother seemed to make an aesthetic out of his curly hair, though one might argue that it was just uncombed.

And what about her? She hardly knew what to do with herself and her appearance. Her freckles made it look like she had chickenpox, and her hair shredded to her chair and the floor like a dog. Speaking of hair, it was frizzy, thick, and hard to comb. It was almost like fairy floss–except no fairy would ever find themselves using it to clean their teeth at night.

How frustrating. She bit her shaking lip and tear-sprayed eyes.

It wasn't like Yeserno, to have the wild hair look nice, and it certainly wasn't like Uwala, to have her freckles make her look remotely cute.

No, I can't cry like this. Not in class.

She sighed and closed her eyes, breathing light and quiet and unevenly slow and fast. If she opened her eyes, she would wail. She could not do that here, how embarrassing and immature!

And then Laminia felt a light tap on her shoulder.

"Your, um...hair," Cotton stuttered and whispered. Even her voice was creamy smooth. "It's falling off a little bit."

Laminia opened her eyes and quickly turned to Cotton, who pointed to the floor. Tiny–very tiny–clumps of pink fairy-floss hair were on the floor. Some were caught on her purple dress. The strands were mostly like hairballs, and smaller than cotton balls. But it was pink. And very visible.

Laminia squeezed her hands in a fist and covered her freckled face, which was turning into a bright shade of pink.

"Sorry..."

That was all Laminia could afford to say without tearing up.

#

The students of Step 2 heard a loud swing! from the door. And they all turned their heads.

Yeserno, meanwhile, was still talking to his friends, giggling and laughing all the way. He was swept away with how witty someone could be with jokes, and found himself in the middle of it sometimes, laughing at words that were actually either insults or cruel jokes. And they weren't just about the other Stepmates. Some of these banters were about him–which, admittedly hurted at times.

But his friends saw the Adulthers and silenced themselves. Except for Yeserno.

The Adulther glanced at Yeserno, who "paid no regard" (as she liked to say), and stared at him, her obsidian-black eyes cold.

"Yeserno," she started. "When I come in, you are supposed to be silent and respect the Adulther. Pay a little kindness in the class, would you?"

"Class hasn't even started yet," he muttered and snickered.

"Well, I'm here to teach you Stepmates, am I not? So it does now."

The Adulther blew from her cheeks and shook her head.

"And I can hear you talking about me. It's not polite or kind, the way you refer to me." Her coal eyes looked away as she sauntered to the board, away from Yeserno. Her back was still turned as she walked.

She now made it to the front of the paper board, and faced her Stepmates.

She thought to herself, when will Yeserno ever learn to be a kinder person, like his sister? As an eight year old, Yeserno can be brutal with his tongue, and the Schoolhouse Adulther would never admit to the fact he almost made her cry multiple times.

The Adulther always had one thought in her mind; I can't wait for these kids to get to Step 4. When they become an adult like me and have their lives figured out. They would be confident and brave and kind.

The second bell rang. Class was now in session.

"Good morning Stepmates..."