A crash of applause rippled through the gathered crowd in the auditorium. On stage and near shirtless with a humongous sword resting against his shoulder, Edgar shook his head and took in the crowd before hesitantly lifting his trophy in the air and going to rejoin the others.

Looking down, May smirked at her nearly-skintight, black top with a beach episode from some anime accurately-depicted through the mountains of her chest. She brushed a lock of long, blond hair from her eyes and glanced to the left. Eric was back and staring at his restored hands in place of his dainty ones. May gave him a pat on the shoulder and offered, "Sorry, kid. Next time." Eric barely-registered she'd spoken to him.

Grimacing, Dean rubbed his forehead and, with Lodi, looked at the adolescent Clair with her legs stretched underneath her and gripping the chair. She appeared so wide-eyed and helpless to the point May almost felt sorry for Sinclair. 

Back at the room a short while later, Dean examined the die gingerly. It still looked about the same as normal. If May squinted then maybe she could discern some extra luster to it but it was about like it was when they first started using it in games. Glancing over at Clair in the chair by the window, Dean proclaimed, "This is a quixotic and bewildering situation. Did the die...punish Clair for making a forever wish while under the inescapable influence of being Clair?"

May waved her hand and pointed to her bust. Dean shrugged and offered, "That doesn't surprise me as much. You must be like a veritable pig in mud right now." 

Her eyes narrowed wistfully, May pronounced, "Mud. I might have to try that."

Ineffectively kicking the table, Clair snarled at May, "This isn't funny, you contemptible....jerk! I'm stuck...maybe forever!"

Waggling her finger, May corrected, "Not forever. That's what got us in this trouble in the first place. You all think eternity is no big deal until it needs to be created by an ancient crystal thing shaped into a die. Not forever, just a very long time."

Clair stared at the ceiling and asked no one in particular, "But just how long?" 

She was about half her age and seemingly back in school. May noted all the classes she'd get through without any trouble. Clair snarled. 

"Down, girl", May teased. Clair retorted by shouting a bad name but she recoiled from her cute voice invoking it. Eric, who'd been meticulously and completely shaving his face, also reacted with surprise. Tears followed soon after, the first tears Sinclair had felt herself crying since she'd been in grade school. May backed off and adjusted her clothes. 

Though Clair clung to the hope that this was only temporary, her face fell when Dean announced he focused on an interval as long as possible without being a die-breaking forever. Despite the feeling of the weekend, Edgar came over and lifted Clair up in his arms for some comfort. She wished in her heart that some whisper of roll-six-Clair could enjoy it. 

The trip home was difficult as she had to remind herself about the right restroom more than once and adults mistook her for being even younger, especially with her brilliant, pink hair. The color fortunately soon faded but Clair bristled with being back home with her young, immature brothers. Her mom treated her like a doll to be dressed up and she couldn't get the hang of the teenage jungle at school. She just put her head down and waited for when she could be with the others.

Fights with May mellowed into philosophical tussles where Clair tried to articulate a clear point and May dropped a quip in the middle. Eventually, despite the feeling of being adrift, Clair actually managed to find joy with being young again. And they were her smiles, whether Sinclair or Clair, planted in a feeling of joy and self that no roll and no rewrite could tell her how to feel ever again.