Prologue

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The innocence of a child is beautiful - yet subtle - like a blooming, yellow flower.
Innocence Helene wished her youthful, vibrant little girl could keep forever. Sometimes, she wished she had stayed an infant. Tiny little fists and toes punching and kicking the air with such ferocity, tiny curls atop her head - and his eyes - a stunning sea of blue-green, an endless ocean of potential. As she aged, her eyes turned darker - until they were Helene's chocolate brown. The last little glimpse of him was gone, lost forever.

Yet, even as she aged and so much changed, her curiosity stayed the same. Those eyes - once his - held the same determination and love for friends and family his had. The last night she asked about her father, Helene's beautiful daughter was stood in the doorway in nothing but a vest and light bottoms. The heat of Tattooine never did fade, but the summers brought sleepless nights for most. Helene could remember that night so vividly, like a vision. Her brunette hair was tied back in two, sleek buns atop her head. Despite her best efforts to tame it, Helene never could, and curls still poked out from the buns and around her temples, shaping her precious face.

"Mama, I want to hear about daddy again," she said with that determined voice.
Who was Helene to deny her the story again? The same story she had heard ever since she could talk and understand others words. Ever since she noticed she had no father, like the other kids she played with. The closest person she had who understood even half her feelings was a boy named Luke. Luke Skywalker, as it were. Seeing that boy caused painful memories to fill Helene's mind - causing her to curse the existence of these memories. If only things could have been different, she often found herself thinking, if only I could have done something more.

"Daddy?" an overexhausted, overheated Helene chuckled. The dark circles under her eyes went unnoticed by her offspring, "why tonight?"
"It will help me sleep," was her reply, "please, mama!"
Stiffly, Helene stood and stretched her limbs. She had been seated by the window for quite some time, attempting to get at least some breeze, to no avail, of course.
"Your love story makes my heart happy!" her daughter explained, twirling around, "I want a man like daddy someday."
Ah, did she forget to mention the part where she hadn't told her daughter the entire truth? A romanticized version of events. She was much too young to know what really occured in the years that lead up to her birth.

"Okay, then" Helene smiled, patting her lap. An overexcited, overheated Jin climbed up into her lap.
"It all started when. . ."
By the end of the untruthful fairytail, Jin was curled up in her arms, fast asleep. Helene looked into her cute, squishy face - the face that kept her going despite everything she had been through. All the trauma, all the sleepless nights, the nightmares, the PTSD - she made staying alive worth every ounce of that.

Bundling her young child up into her arms, Helene tucked her into bed and gave her a sweet kiss on the forehead.
"Goodnight, my brightest star" she whispered lovingly to her.
Turning on her heel, she left the room, glancing over her shoulder at her reason for existing.

"You make it all better."

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