Title: Autonomy
Rating: PG
Summary: Sun’s father was on his cell phone through almost her entire graduation ceremony. To be honest, Sun almost can’t believe that he came at all.
Disclaimer: I do not own Lost. At all. I wish but alas...
Author's Note: Used for au100, prompt #27: parents.



Sun’s father was on his cell phone through almost her entire graduation ceremony. To be honest, Sun almost can’t believe that he came at all.

Her mother had smiled from the audience, but it was the kind of smile that Sun could tell was on her face only in case anyone happened to be looking at her. It didn’t matter though. She was disappointed, true, but unsurprised.

She had never been in college by their demand, by their choice for her. They wanted her to marry. They had made that clear. Her education was what she wanted for herself, and she had fought for it.

Her parents sat in their chairs with very little pride reflected in their eyes. This was not the path they had chosen for her. Their attendance spoke of their obligation as her parents – and as prominent citizens – not as an acknowledgment of her accomplishments.

And yet, that didn’t matter either. Because Sun had long-since stopped seeing her parents through the eyes of a child. She had long-since learned of the kind of people they were, and detached herself from them emotionally, as was needed.

She had made this choice. For herself, and herself alone, and as she was handed her diploma and people that she did not know clapped for her, she knew, deep in her heart, that the pride she felt in herself – for not choosing the path that so many of her friends had chosen, for not marrying out of a sense of obligation to her family – was enough to make up for the lack of any from her parents.

It was sad, this place they had come to; where they tolerated one another, smiled when there were cameras, then resumed their lives in mutual indifference to one another. But Sun knew her parents well enough to know that it couldn’t be any other way.

So, she smiled for the camera, with her parents at her side. The second the flash had come and gone, her father was back on his phone, and her mother had located an old family friend to speak to. She clutched the diploma in her hands a little bit tighter and let out a deep, calming breath. Centered her thoughts. Focused on what mattered. Not who wasn’t by her side, but what she held in her hands. The future she had given herself.