Yumi

by lunesolei

Summary:

Here-in lie the twenty-five things Yumi keeps quiet about. Will contain hints of slash, canon het, het in general, friendships, family, and growing up.

Notes:

Warnings: Nothing in this chapter but there may be het, slash mentions, and dark themes in later chapters. Warnings will be posted in each chapter.

Rating: G

Author's Note: And so begins the next List. I felt like Yumi didn't really get a lot of screen time in Ulrich's List so I decided to try her out. To those of you joining from Ulrich's List, I hope you enjoy this one just as much as Ulrich's (or more). To those of you who may be new, this chapter will be the List, and then 25 chapters will follow, varying in length, on the subject of each number. Make sense?

Again, due to school assignments and studying I'm not sure when I'll be able to update, but I will be updating whenever I get a chance.

I hope you all enjoy this.

Chapter 1: List

Notes:

Disclaimer: I don't own Code Lyoko

Warnings: Nothing in this chapter but there may be het, slash mentions, and dark themes in later chapters. Warnings will be posted in each chapter.

Rating: G

Author's Note: And so begins the next (revised) List. I know I've been saying I was planning on doing Odd or Sissi's next, but I felt like Yumi didn't really get a lot of screen time in Ulrich's List so I decided to try her out. To those of you joining from Ulrich's List, I hope you enjoy this one just as much as Ulrich's (or more). To those of you who may be new, this chapter will be the List, and then 25 chapters will follow, varying in length, on the subject of each number. Make sense?

Again, due to school assignments and studying I'm not sure when I'll be able to update, but I will be updating whenever I get a chance.

I hope you all enjoy this.

 

---

1. Her mother told her that France would "make everything better." She hadn't quite forgiven her for that lie yet.

2. Odd called her uptight, she saw herself as realistic.

3. Her mother warned her that "boys will only break your heart." She wanted to prove her wrong (she still hadn't).

4. She was not a goth and she hated it when people assumed she was.

5. She seriously considered leaving Sissi to drown during one X.A.N.A. attack (she didn't, but the guilt stays with her).

6. There was a time when she honestly believed that she and Ulrich would last forever.

7. Her parents wondered how she turned into an insomniac - she could never properly explain that it was because she was waiting for her phone to ring any second.

8. She laughed off Sissi's advances on Ulrich (until she heard him call her Eli the first time).

9. She looked forward to having Aelita join their group (until she did and she realized Aelita wasn't as mature as she had anticipated).

10. She hated bugs.

11. Every time they got summoned to Lyoko she dreaded it (no matter how hard she tried she couldn't forget the digital sea).

12. She tried not to like Will (he was everything she swore she wouldn't fall for) but it was only a matter of time (and they all knew it).

13. Switching bodies with Odd was one of the strangest things she'd ever experienced.

14. Hiroki blamed her for breaking up with Ulrich and she didn't have the heart to tell him his hero ended it with her.

15. Aelita told her of the funeral but she never made it back to Kadic for it (if she were honest, she didn't really try).

16. She never liked Emily.

17. Saturday nights were Girls Nights, no matter what.

18. She kept in contact with Jeremie the most (even if Aelita was the more persistent).

19. She liked to bake.

20. Sometimes she saw very little difference between Jeremie and X.A.N.A.

21. They never talked about it but sometimes, late at night when the fighting grew louder, Hiroki slipped silently between her sheets and she hummed old Japanese lullabies until he fell back to sleep.

22. Sometimes in between kisses she saw the darkness return to Will's eyes.

23. Until the day she died she would never admit that she was happy Hiroki was in that accident (it made the fighting stop).

24. She moved to Paris and enrolled at Sciences Po. She lived in a tiny studio and went to class (she stopped taking sleep aids) and X.A.N.A. became a nightmare, Lyoko a dream (she smiled).

25. Aelita cried when she showed up to their graduation. (She won't admit that she almost didn't come.)

Chapter 2: Better

Notes:

Warnings: None, unless you count (non canon) het?

Rating: G

Author's Note: And here's chapter one! I can't remember if it said when she moved to France during the show. I found online that she moved as a baby but I also saw somewhere else that she'd just moved that year. So this is kind of a compromise.

1. Her mother told her that France would "make everything better." She hadn't quite forgiven her for that lie yet.

She was twelve when her parents sat her down at the table. Hiroki was at a friend's house. Her mother's face was relaxed while her father looked nervous. "You aren't in any trouble, Yumi," her mother said. "Your father has something to tell you."

"Yumi," he began. He stopped and rubbed a hand over his face.

"Father?" she asked politely, curiously. She had never seen him nervous before. He looked at her mother imploringly.

Her mother sighed and rubbed her bare shoulder. Her mother's hands were warm and callused. "Yumi," her mother said in that soft way she had about her. "Your father has received a promotion at work."

"Congratulations, Father," she said promptly. She offered him a smile.

"Thank-you," he replied. He shifted and poured tea. "Yumi, once your school finishes we're moving to France."

"France?" she exclaimed. Her father shot her a look and she quickly bowed her head and studied the folded hands in her lap.

"It will be a good opportunity for our family," her mother informed her. "You'll like France, you'll see."

"May I be excused?" she asked. Her father waved her away while her mother frowned.

/

"I'm moving to France," she announced after school one day. Her friends stopped their laughing and teasing and elbowing to stare at her. Hina paused mid-twirl of her hair to cover her mouth in surprise. Kaito just stared at her, his eyes wide. Yumi tucked her hair behind her ear again.

"Moving?" Hina repeated. Her wide eyes widened more. A moment later she had her arms around Yumi in a tight hug. "You're my best friend, you can't move!"

"I know," Yumi murmured. She hugged Hina back just as tight. "But I have to. My father's already gone over to look for a house. He got a promotion." The last word is more bitter than she intended. Her eyes meet Kaito's over Hina's shoulder.

"When?" he asked quietly.

"Next week, when school's over," she replied. She wouldn't let the tears fall again, she refused. "I have to get home; I'm helping my mother pack."

"Next week?" Yumi nodded miserably. "This isn't fair!" Hina exclaimed. She stomped her foot and crossed her arms. "We've been best friends for ten years, Yumi!"

"I know," Yumi replied. "We'll get together this weekend, a sleep over, okay?"

Hina chewed her hair and nodded. "Okay," she agreed.

"Come on, Yumi, let's go," Kaito said. He gave her a wry smile and she gave a small one back. "Later, Hina."

"Bye guys," Hina replied.

They parted ways at the usual street corner, Hina heading east and Yumi and Kaito continuing on northward. "So…France?" Kaito asked. "Excited?"

"No," Yumi replied. She tucked strands of hair behind her ear and frowned. "I don't know, maybe."

"I'm sure it'll be fun," Kaito told her. He looked at her sideways from under black bangs. "You'll turn into an even bigger fashion lover than Hina."

She laughed and their hands bumped. "I doubt that," she replied.

"You never know." He laced their fingers together and she looked at him. "I'm going to miss you, Yumi." Her face flushed and she smiled.

"Whose notes will you copy?" she teased. "Hina's a terrible student."

"Yumi."

"My mother's waiting; I need to help her pack up the house…" She trailed off as he leaned in and kissed her lightly on the lips. "Kaito-"

"Yumi!" her mother called. "Yumi, come in and help me with pots!"

Kaito reached over and squeezed her hand. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah," she mumbled before hurrying up the walkway to where her mother stood in the open door.

/

The night before they took the plane to France Yumi laid in her empty room and stared out the window at the cherry blossom trees. The light from the hall spilled in as her door opened. "Are you awake?" her mother asked softly.

"Yes," she replied.

Her mother crossed the bare wood floor and sat down on the edge of her bed. "I know you're upset about moving, but it'll be fine, you'll see," she promised.

Yumi twisted in order to stare at her mother over her shoulder. "Can you promise that?" she asked.

Her mother's hand reached over to brush the dark strands of hair from her face. "Yes," she said after a moment. "You'll make lots of friends-"

"I have friends here-"

"There won't be as many people; there will be more trees-"

"I like the city," she protested.

Her mother's face creased and her lips drew together. "Yumi, please don't make this difficult. Your brother will be looking to you for an example. You must be brave. You'll love France, you'll see."

Yumi heaved a sigh. She closed her eyes. "Will you and Father stop fighting?" she asked. She cracked her eyes open to see her mother's expression.

"Everything will work out," her mother replied. "This is for the best." Her mother leaned over to kiss her forehead. Yumi turned back to stare out the window. She heard her mother sigh and get to her feet. "Goodnight," she called from the door.

"Night," Yumi replied when the room was dark again.

/

Two years later and she'd come to the conclusion that she did not like France. It was cold and rainy with villages and trees and grain fields. There were no cherry blossom trees, no Gozun Okuribi festivals, no temples or tall buildings. And they spoke a funny language.

Her classmates still gave her curious looks and her teachers could never get her name right. And she was really terrible at French. Hiroki liked it though. He spent days off in the park climbing trees, enjoyed when the children asked about his video game knowledge, and told jokes that Yumi was eighty percent sure were at her expense. It wasn't fair. She'd spent their first year here trying to learn French and was still only conversational in it. After that first summer Hiroki was practically fluent.

She kicked a discarded coke bottle and watched it roll down the road. It landed in the gutter and got trapped by a narrow drain. Yumi sighed and looked up to watch the other kids in her class walk in laughing, chattering groups home. She still missed her friends. Hina…Mei…Nori…and Kaito. She frowned. It still hurt to think about Kaito..

"Ugh!" she groaned. A couple curious heads looked over at her. She slouched down, hands deep in her pockets. Her messenger bag thumped her thigh as she sped up to reach her street faster.

She exhaled when she reached her house. Her relief was quickly replaced with a frown. "Hey, Yumi," her little brother said. He didn't bother looking up from the handheld game he was playing on the front steps.

"What are you doing out here?" Yumi asked. "Where's your jacket?" It wasn't cold but it was cool enough. "Hiroki?"

He jerked his head toward the house just as the yelling started up again. Her mother's usually calm voice turned sharp and piercing. "Dad's home early," Hiroki noted. She heard her father's voice rising.

Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag and dug into her skin. "How long have they been fighting?"

"Since I got home," Hiroki replied.

Yumi sighed and blew strands out of her face. "Let's go to the park. They'll have sorted it out by then. Come on," she said.

"Really?" She nodded and he bounded to his feet, a wide smile on his face. She knew he liked the jungle gym at the park, she preferred the swings. "I thought the fighting was supposed to stop." He looked up at Yumi as they walked.

"Yeah," she agreed. "I thought so too."

Chapter 3: Realistic

Notes:

Warnings: Uhm. Underage tattooing? Is that even a warning? And a couple of deaths are mentioned in passing.

Rating: PG

Author's Note: This chapter took a bit of work because I debated on one scenario or a series. Hopefully it comes across well. And I promise, I'll try and get the next chapter out sooner (I've already got ideas).

2. Odd called her uptight, she saw herself as realistic.

The first is always the worst her father liked to say. It was his go-to answer for scraped knees, failed tests, pulled teeth, lost pets. Yumi had always hated that response. The first time they found out they weren't invincible was no different. But she did wonder if her father would still say the same thing. She never found out because she could never ask him.

"You cut it a little sharp there at the end, goofing off like that," Yumi said to Odd. It wasn't malicious, not yet. She bumped his shoulder and he laughed and bumped her back. Ulrich shook his head and followed just behind them.

"Nah, I'm an ace with timing. Don't be so uptight, Yumi," Odd snorted. "You have to put on a bit of show, otherwise where's the fun?"

"It isn't supposed to be fun," Yumi replied.

"Yeah yeah, you're starting to sound like Einstein," Odd groaned.

"When do you think we set back to?" Ulrich asked. "We're still at the factory."

"Don't know, we'll ask Einstein, hopefully it was after Hertz's test," Odd replied. He bounded into the supercomputer room ahead of them. "Hey, Einstein-!"

Yumi froze in the doorway, stared at the boy sitting hunched in the chair, head in his hands and shoulders shaking. She didn't have to see the screen to know something went wrong.

/

For a week she wore the black ink spelling out P. D. 3/1/04 on the inside of her wrist, right along the blue veins. Ulrich was the first to notice it. Carefully, he took her wrist in his. He turned it so that he could study the writing and when his eyes met hers she saw the pain in them.

"Yumi…" he said.

They hadn't gone to the funeral. But they'd watched it. The four of them huddled under black umbrellas as a mother's sobs filled the graveyard. She waited to hear him say it'll be fine or it'll get better or even it's not our fault.

Instead he squeezed her cold fingers and released her arm. "It's a nice thought," he told her.

Jeremie noticed as they sat waiting for Ulrich and Odd the following morning. She had been stretching her arms out at a rare moment when he lifted his eyes from his laptop screen. He blinked. "What's that?"

"You know what it is," she replied.

"You shouldn't have that. People might know…might wonder…" He looked around as though he expected Milly and Tamiya to pop up with microphone and video camera in hand.

"They won't."

"Yumi, it's dangerous," he told her. "We all regret what happened…you know that. But to have a reminder…you shouldn't have it there."

"Jeremie," she said. He looked up at her, at the pitch to her voice that she couldn't get rid of. "Jeremie, it's something I have to do. No one will know. I won't tell anyone."

He took a breath and when he exhaled he looked concave. "Alright," he agreed, but he didn't sound happy about it.

She never knew if Odd noticed. She didn't catch him looking at it and he never asked about it. It wasn't something she could ask about either.

She hoped he had.

"Yumi, is there something we should…discuss?" her mother asked after school on the fourth day. Yumi looked up, eyes red rimmed and sleepless and shook her head. "Yumi…" Her mother's hand grasped her wrist, fingers just shy of touching the writing.

"It's nothing, just something I wrote for class."

Her mother's eyes were troubled. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," she replied. Her phone buzzed and she flinched. "I have to go…I'm studying at school."

"Yumi!"

She grabbed the phone and ran.

. . … . .

Her ears were deceiving her. They had to be. She stared at Ulrich incredulously. He looked back, arms crossed over his chest and one shoulder hitched slightly in a what-can-I-say way. "What did you just say?" she asked anyway.

Odd looked up from where he was scribbling something on his arm long enough to watch them. From behind her she heard Jeremie cough. "Guys, we're in a bit of a time crunch here," Jeremie reminded them.

Ulrich shrugged both shoulders properly this time. "You heard me," he said. "I think we should use Sissi."

"Use Sissi?" Yumi repeated.

Jeremie shook his head. "We told you, she can't be trusted."

"She doesn't have to know," Ulrich replied. His eyes wouldn't meet hers though and her stomach clenched uncomfortably tight. She swallowed a couple times and opened her mouth to argue.

"I agree," Odd said. Three heads whipped around to look at him. He offered a smile. "Sissi can be useful. We don't have a lot of time and Sissi's got Delmas wrapped around her finger. It could stop the X.A.N.A. attack from going bad again."

Jeremie frowned and chewed on his lip. "Guys…"

Yumi glowered. "You better be right," she interrupted.

"Don't be a pessimist, Yumers," Odd retorted.

"I'm not, I'm a realist." Odd muttered something she ignored.

"Come on, let's get going then," Jeremie said.

Yumi's eyes met Ulrich's. "You'll be careful?"

"Always am," he replied, but he still wouldn't meet her eyes.

"Right," she agreed and followed the others. She never did find out what Ulrich promised Sissi in order to get her cooperation.

. . … . .

"Don't be such a killjoy, Yumers," Odd laughed. His voice echoed eerily in the factory.

"Don't call me that," she snapped irritably.

"Leave her alone, Odd," Ulrich called. He was writing something in a notebook propped on his knees.

"It's just a party," Odd reasoned. He waggled his eyebrows at Yumi. "Come on, it'll be fun." She knew why he wanted to go. He'd been flirting with Monet Giroux for two weeks now. She played girls' football and had long chestnut hair and grey eyes. And she was known for her party-of-the-century parties.

"Don't you have to study?" she asked. She flipped a page in her book pointedly but it fell on deaf ears.

"Studied before X.A.N.A. decided to attack," Odd replied. His back arched as he stretched. "Lucky for us we had to do a Return, means a free night for once."

Yumi sighed and looked to Jeremie for backup. His nose was buried in some book with faded text on the spine and she groaned. "We can't just go to a party," she said finally.

"Why not?" Odd reasoned. "Monet's throwing it and everyone knows her parties are the best in town. Her parents are in Paris for the night."

"My parents would never let me," she rationalized. "And you're just hoping to kiss her."

"So don't tell them. Come on, relax. Have some fun," Odd replied. She didn't fail to notice his lack of reaction to her second statement. He kicked Ulrich's foot and got a disgruntled look in return. "Nature Boy here's going."

She stared at Ulrich incredulously. "You are?" she asked. She shouldn't have been surprised. She knew Ulrich had gone to parties before (before X.A.N.A. anyway) but he was so secretive. Parties didn't seem like they'd be his scene. Especially not a Monet Party.

He shrugged. "Seems fun. It'd be nice to get away from school for a bit," he admitted.

"Are you telling me you didn't finish your homework last night, before the X.A.N.A. attack?" Odd demanded. "You, who's practically another Jeremie and gets it done a week in advance?"

Yumi huffed and slammed her book shut. "I did, but my parents know I have a History test-"

"Which you already took," Ulrich reasoned.

"Yes, but they don't know that," Yumi snapped. She turned to Jeremie again. "What do you think?"

"X.A.N.A.'s usually quiet after an attack of the last one's magnitude. It might be fun to get out and observe the social interactions of our student peers outside of school."

"See?" Odd exclaimed. "Even Jeremie wants to go!"

Yumi sighed and rubbed her temples. "Alright, I'll come," she muttered.

Odd whooped and nudged Ulrich's foot again. "See, told you I'd get her to come!"

She thought Ulrich might have smiled.

. . … . .

"What did you do?" Yumi asked, eyes wide and vaguely horrified.

Odd grinned at her, arm slung around Aelita's shoulders. Aelita tugged at a few strands of hair and looked uncertain. "Looks good, doesn't it? She's sure to fit in now."

"You…You…"

"Jeez, Yumi, relax. Quit being so uptight, it's not like it's your hair," Odd laughed.

"Don't you like it?" Aelita asked.

"I…I…Yes, of course," Yumi replied. "It's just a surprise."

Aelita's fingers drifted away from the absentminded twirling of the newly dyed hair and her face broke out in a wide, relieved smile. Yumi hadn't realized how much they looked alike until that moment. Same height, same slight build, same eye color, and now the same hair color.

"Oh good, I wasn't sure when Odd first suggested it…but I guess now people won't be staring at my hair all the time, right?"

"Right," Yumi replied. She could see Jeremie and Ulrich approaching behind the so-called cousins. "Have you shown Jeremie yet?"

Aelita's bottom lip disappears between her teeth. "Not yet," she admitted.

"Won't matter," Odd replied. "Guys love blondes." Aelita elbowed him and Yumi sent him a glare. "Well, except Ulrich, I guess," he amended. He waggled his eyebrows at Yumi. "Seems like you're safe."

She kicked him as the boys arrived.

. . … . .

"Did you tell anyone where we were going?" Yumi asked.

Odd shook his head. "No, Ulrich's busy with his sister. Aelita's been kind of distant since…and Einstein'd probably tell on us," Odd replied. He looked over at Yumi and frowned. "You sure about this?" he asked.

"Haven't you already told me to stop being an uptight pessimist?" she asked.

"I never said pessimist," he protested.

"You have," she replied. "But yes, I'm sure." She nodded and took a breath, staring at the shop. It was the day before her sixteenth birthday. They'd taken the train in to Paris after lunch. She was surprised when Odd reached over to squeeze her hand.

"Okay then," he said. "Come on."

A chime rang as they pushed the door open. Yumi looked around at the designs decorating the walls. "How'd you find this place again?" she asked.

Odd stepped around her, eyeing a painting of two koi fish intertwined. "Friend of mine works here." Yumi nodded even though he couldn't see. She let the door fall shut behind her and approached the front desk. A girl came out of an open door and Yumi frowned. She looked familiar. Odd turned and a smile lit up his face. "And here she is. Hey, Sam."

The girl swatted turquoise streaked hair out of her eyes and gave a lazy smile. "Hey, stranger," she said. Yumi remembered her now. She'd grown some but was still willowy. Her dark hair was cut chin length now and she was dressed in a corset and plaid skirt. "You here to see Sean?"

"She is," Odd replied with a nod toward Yumi.

Sam's eyes settled on her for a moment. "Yuna, right?"

"Yumi," she replied. "Hi, Sam."

"Sean's almost done back there. So, do you know what you want to get?"

She didn't look at Odd as she answered, "yeah."

/

Dad's wrong, she thought, grimacing. It hurt just as much the second time. The man, Sean, gave her an apologetic smile but didn't look up from his work. She could hear Odd chattering away with Sam in the reception area and she grit her teeth. The needle buzzed as it went in and out of the thin skin on her wrist.

"So, what's with the initials and dates?" Sean asked. "If you don't mind my asking." He was younger than she anticipated, maybe nineteen or twenty. Sam had sensed her apprehension and pulled out a book of photos of Sean's tattoos to try and calm her.

"Mistakes," Yumi replied. She focused on the stud poking out of his left eyebrow. Something in her voice must have tipped him off because he changed the subject.

"You live in Paris?"

"Outside of it," she answered. "Why tattooing?" she asked.

"Canvas was too boring," he replied. She laughed despite herself and he flashed her another grin. "No challenge."

"I'm sure," she replied.

"It's the truth," he protested. A moment of silence and then he was putting aside the needle and blotting lightly at her skin. "You're done."

"Thanks." She checked her arm; saw the black ink stark against the pale inside of her wrist. P. D. 3/1/04 and, below it, M. G. 30/4/06. She started to get up and Sean grabbed her arm. She looked up at him in surprise.

"You ever make any more mistakes, you give a call, okay?" he asked. He handed her a business card. "Even if it's not one that needs to be written down."

She might have cried, if she hadn't cried for the past two days. Instead she nodded and slipped his card into her pocket. "Thanks," she repeated.

Odd looked up when she entered the reception area, followed by Sean. His eyes fell to her wrist and the initials and dates. "Looks good," he said, and there was an odd note to his voice.

The first is always the worst, her dad liked to say. She touched the raw skin around the tattoo and frowned. It wasn't true. Michel Girard hurt just as much as Phillippe Dumas had. She held her arm out as Sean put the bandage over it, took the instructions that Sam handed her.

"Come on," Odd said. "Lets go."

Odd liked to tease her by calling her uptight or pessimistic, but walking out of that tattoo shop, feeling his eyes on her bandaged arm, she knew he knew. It wasn't pessimism to know your limits. It wasn't being uptight to try and prevent the risks. They were on the Metro when she nudged him.

"Thanks for coming with me today," she said when he looked at her.

He gave her a small smile and nudged her back. "Anytime, Yumers." She didn't protest the nickname this time.

Chapter 4: Boys

Notes:

Warnings: Cheating (romantically, not on a test), parental disputes, hints of things of a sexual nature, rough making out? (honestly I don't know how to describe it...), OCs.

Rating: PG-14

Author's Note: Long updates after long waits are good, right? That said, I've noticed that each chapter has grown by approximately a thousand words. I hope this stops happening soon otherwise chapter 26 will be ridiculously long. Four OCs in this chapter, two you've seen before, one you haven't (and probably won't see again), the other you may see again but probably not. Thank you to everyone whose favorited, followed, and left feedback. You all are too kind.

3. Her mother warned her that "boys will only break your heart." She wanted to prove her wrong (she still hadn't).

 

Hiroki was asleep on the sofa, head pillowed on a folded arm.  Her parents and grandparents, aunts and uncles and cousins, laughed and chatted as they drank and sampled from the osechi.  Her mother had already forced her to eat two helpings of kuro-mame in order to hopefully prevent illness in the New Year.  She still maintained that it wasn’t her fault Hina had given her the flu three times. 

 

Yumi sighed and stared out the back doors at the sky.  The clouds were sparse and the stars shone brightly tonight.  She checked her watch and saw that it was almost midnight.  “Yumi!” her father called.

 

“Yes?” she asked.

 

“Could you fetch more sake from the kitchen?”

 

“Sure,” she called.  She stepped over Hanna and Cho’s legs.  They didn’t look up from where they were drawing on each other’s arms.  Kyou gave her a smile as she passed and she smiled back but he’d already returned to the game in his hands.  Kyou was two years older than Hiroki and much better at staying awake.

 

A knock sounded at the door and she frowned.  The adults hadn’t heard over the sound of Beethoven and the talking and excited laughing.  Yumi opened the front door and frowned.  “Kaito?” she asked.

 

“Hey, Yumi,” he replied.  He was bundled up from the cold and he shifted awkwardly from foot to foot.  “Can you come out here for a moment?”

 

“What are you doing here?” she asked.  She stepped out, shutting the door behind her. 

 

“I slipped out,” he admitted.  She frowned, confused, as he grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the porch rail.  “The stars are pretty tonight.”

 

“Yeah…do you want to come in?”  She wasn’t sure what to do.  She’d never had someone not related to her appear on New Year’s eve.  “It’s almost midnight.”

 

“I know.”  He shifted again.  “Let’s just stand out here for a moment, okay?”

 

“…Okay.”  She leant on the rail next to him.  He took her hand again and she looked at him curiously.  “Kaito?”  He was acting odd, definitely not his usual cool self.  “Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah, great…I…” he trailed off as the bells began to ring.  All over the temple bells rang, filling the night air as people cheered.  She wondered if her family had noticed her absence yet.  She wondered if…

 

Kaito kissed her.

 

She froze. 

 

He pulled back, face red and eyes wide.  “I’m sorry…I just.  I really like you, Yumi and…and…”

 

She smiled and blushed, fingers automatically playing with the strands of hair too short to be tucked behind her ear.  “Really?” she asked over the sound of the bells.

 

His face turned redder.  “Yeah, really.”  He shifted and tugged at his jacket sleeves.  “Are you upset?”

 

“No,” she said.  She gave him a shy smile and then addressed the post behind his left shoulder, “but we might have to try that kiss again.”

 

He grinned, and as the bells faded away, leaned in and kissed her again. 

 

//

 

“You’re really moving?” Kaito asked.

 

“Yeah.”

 

They sat at the koi pond and she tossed bits of bread to the fat fish.  “That sucks,” he groaned.  Yumi shrugged and let him pull her tight against him in a one-armed side hug.  “Will you come back?”

 

“Of course I will.”  She wouldn’t look at him because then he’d see the tears and she didn’t want him to see her cry.  “I guess this means we’ll be breaking up, huh?”  They’d only been together six months anyway.  It wasn’t a big deal, she tried to tell herself.

 

“What, why?”

 

“I’m moving.  To France.  It’s not like I’ll be an hour’s train ride away,” she replied irritably. 

 

“So?”  He tightened his grip on her.  “Yumi, look at me.”  Reluctantly, she met his eyes.  They were dark and glinting with something she was still too young to identify.  “I love you-”

 

“My mother says we’re too young to know love,” she scoffed, eyebrow raised.

 

“What does she know about how I feel?” he asked.  “I care about you a lot.  I’ll see you when you come back and maybe I can come visit you, yeah?”

 

“You mean it?” she asked.  She fought the bubbling feeling but could feel it manifesting itself as a smile.

 

“I mean it.”

 

She grinned as she kissed him.

 

//

 

Her mother hummed and ran calloused fingers through her hair.  Yumi curled in a ball and sobbed into her pillow.  The letter Hina had sent clutched in her hand.  “How…how c-could he?” she hiccupped against her mother’s warm leg.

 

“You didn’t really think this would last, did you?” her mother asked.  Yumi sobbed harder, the paper crumpling in her hands.  Her mother’s hands moved to her shoulders, massaging gently.  “I’m sorry, Yumi.  Boys, especially at this age, do stupid things.  You must realize this.  It’ll get easier, you’ll see.”

 

“He said he loved me!” she protested.  “And Hina said he went off with Mei and…and he said he loved me.”

 

She heard her mother sigh.  “Boys will say many things, Yumi.  You have to learn how to tell what’s true and what’s not.  It’s a hard lesson, but everyone goes through it.  Listen to me; I’m not trying to be mean.  Boys will break your heart.  And you’ll break theirs…”

 

“Not like this!  I wouldn’t cheat on someone!”

 

“No, you won’t,” her mother said.  Yumi sat up, wiping at her face and tossing the letter aside.  “You’re barely thirteen, Yumi.  You’ll move past it, and you’ll remember this the next time a boy breaks your heart.  And it might be worse then, or it might be easier.  But you will always feel pain, that’s the way of relationships.”

 

Her mother pulled her into a hug and Yumi curled up against her.  She breathed in the scent of tea and cleaning supplies and lavender soap and wished she were still Hiroki’s age.

 

The next day she burned their photos and the printed emails in the rubbish bin out back. 

 

. . … . .

 

Robert Nattier had those dark eyes she’d always been drawn to.  The brooding ones.  The secretive ones.  He launched paper balls at her hair at lunch and accidentally spilled juice on her new sweatshirt.  Shannon blew a pink bubble and kicked her shin under the table.

 

“What?” Yumi demanded.  She was already irritated by the paper balls and juice spilling.  Shannon rolled her blue eyes and beckoned Yumi to lean in.  “What?” Yumi repeated, obediently leaning forward until the table bit into her stomach.

 

“He likes you,” Shannon said.  Yumi’s eyes narrowed while Shannon’s widened.  “You’re so flipping lucky.  He’s a year older and almost as hot as Johnny Depp.”

 

“I don’t like Johnny Depp,” Yumi protested.  Shannon gave her a sad look and shook her head.  “Anyway, why doesn’t he just ask me out?”

 

Shannon rolled her eyes.  “Because he’s a boy, duh.”  She popped another bubble while Yumi chewed her lip.  “Don’t blow it, Yumi.  He’s Kadic’s number one hottie.”

 

//

 

Don’t blow it, Yumi. 

 

Shannon’s words echoed in her head as she sat in the dark cinema with Robert.  He gave her a grin as the previews started and she mustered a small one in response.  She still wasn’t sure what movie they had actually agreed on seeing. 

 

Don’t blow it, Yumi.

 

Her face heated as Robert wrapped an arm around the back of her chair, his fingers rubbing at her shoulder and playing with her hair.  She focused on the screen, watching two children holding some kind of tin box and talking of dares. 

 

Don’t blow it, Yumi.

 

Robert’s hand shifted, moved down her arm.  She shifted in her seat and dropped her phone.  Quickly she leaned forward to find it on the ground.  When she sat up again, his arm was gone.  With a half-suppressed sigh she settled back and tried to focus on the movie again. 

 

Don’t blow it, Yumi.

 

Marion Cotillard made an appearance on screen about the same time that Robert’s hand made it’s appearance on her leg.  “I’m glad you agreed to come with me,” Robert breathed into her ear.

 

Don’t blow it, Yumi.

 

“Please, stop.  I’m trying to watch the movie,” she hissed back.  She grabbed his hand and he leaned in and managed to kiss her in the near-dark.  Her head spun as he pressed in.  He wasn’t like Kaito.  He wasn’t shy.  He was demanding and pushy and her gasp was all the invitation he needed to stick his tongue in her mouth. 

 

Don’t-

 

Her slap echoed in the crowded cinema.  The people nearest her looked over in surprise as she untangled herself from his shocked grasp.  How many hands did he have anyway? 

 

She never got to see the end of the movie.

 

//

 

“How was your date?” her mother asked.

 

“Date?  What date?” her father demanded.  He looked up from his dinner and frowned.  “I thought she was seeing a movie with a friend?”

 

“Hush, Takeyo,” her mother admonished.  “Yumi?”

 

“Fine,” she replied.  She ignored the way her mother’s eyebrows drew together as she stormed past the living room. 

 

“Now wait a moment, I have a right to know what goes on in my own house!” her dad exclaimed.

 

“Do you now?” her mother demanded.  Hiroki kept his head ducked as he stacked rice with his chop sticks.  “Well then, the roof is leaking over the spare room again and I have to call in a specialist because you never bothered to get rid of the rodents-”

 

“Not now, Akiko!”

 

Yumi took the stairs two at a time and slammed her door shut.  She collapsed onto her bed, already calling Shannon.  “How’d it go?” Shannon squealed.

 

“I blew it,” she sighed.

 

. . … . .

 

“I wouldn’t hurt you,” he told her.  “I’d never hurt you.”

 

Her smile was twisted a little as she touched his hand.  She wanted to believe him, she really did.  “I know you wouldn’t,” she replied.  Not intentionally, she thought.  “But I’m not ready for another relationship.  I just like being your friend.”

 

Ulrich nodded and his fingers laced with hers.  “I understand.”  He gave her a small smile and she smiled back.

 

//

 

She wasn’t sure how it happened.  One minute they were sitting and talking, laughing about Odd’s latest prank on Jim.  The next thing she knew her lips were pressed against Ulrich’s and his hands were knotted in her hair.  She pressed against him, kissed him hard, and he didn’t back down.

 

When they pulled away for air he gave her a tiny smile and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.  “Well,” he said.

 

She doubled over laughing until he followed suit.  They leaned together, her forehead pressed to his shoulder and his fingers dancing across her shoulders, until they caught their breath.  “I don’t usually kiss on a first date,” she groaned, wondering what he’d think of her.

 

Below her forehead his shoulder rose in a shrug.  “Good thing this wasn’t a date, huh?” he teased.  “How about Friday night, seven-thirty?  We can have dinner in town.”

 

She liked that it wasn’t a movie theater.  “Sounds good,” she agreed.

 

//

 

She couldn’t place her finger on it.  On what it was that made them combust.  Or maybe she could, she’d just need more than one finger.

 

Ulrich held her hands but didn’t meet her eyes.  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he repeated.  “I never wanted to hurt you.”

 

It was so much like the first time he asked her out that she wanted to cry.  Or laugh.  “I know you don’t,” she murmured finally.  “But we don’t work, do we?”  She’d seen this coming.  She’d seen it coming but denied it for so long that she’d forgotten that they didn’t work.  They were too stubborn. 

 

He looked relieved and that hurt more.  He wasn’t going to try to fight for them.  And he didn’t care that she wasn’t fighting for them either.  “We don’t,” he agreed.  His eyes met hers and he looked so serious, so final and now the tears did come, gathered at the corners of her eyes and threatened to fall.  Her fingers clenched around his.  “I’m sorry, Yumi.”

 

“Me too, Ulrich.”  He leans forward and kisses her forehead while slipping his hand out of hers.  “Ulrich!”  He met her eyes again.  “Tell me it isn’t Sissi.” 

 

He gave her a twisty smile.  “It isn’t Sissi,” he agreed.  “I have to get back, I promised Odd-”

 

“It’s okay, go on.  I’ll see you at school,” she interrupted.  Again that relieved look and she felt her heart twist. 

 

“Ulrich’s not coming in?” her mother asked when she entered the house alone.  Yumi shook her head and wiped at the stubborn tears that still clung to her eyelashes.  “Oh, Yumi!”

 

“What?  What happened?” her father asked.  Her mother shot him a dark look as she hurried across the room to hug their daughter.   

 

“It’s okay,” her mother soothed.  She ran her fingers through her hair and rubbed her back.  “I told you boys couldn’t be trusted, they only break your heart.  But you’ll find one someday.  I know you will.”

 

Yumi sniffed and breathed in her mother’s perfume and didn’t argue.

 

. . … . .

 

Will’s all dark eyes and secret smiles.  He’s the type of boy she promised never to get involved with again.   But he sent her poetry and funny cartoons, hummed songs that she hadn’t heard before and talked to her about history and messed up families.    

 

Two weeks after she and Ulrich broke up she gave in.  She wondered what that said about her.

 

//

 

Will’s hands were tight on her upper arms, pinning her against the door.  She reached up, fingers dug deep into his shoulders as she tugged him closer.  Their mouths crashed together again-again-again.  She could feel her heart race, could feel his pulse pound beneath her fingers.  They were racing-racing-racing but not in sync like in all those stories she’d read. 

 

He pulled back, panting hard and she pressed forward automatically.  His grip stopped her and she glared at him and huffed.  “Yumi,” he said.  His eyes were dark, darker than Kaito’s when he lied to her at the fishpond, darker than Robert’s when he whispered in her ear, darker even than Ulrich’s when she struck at him and he fought back until they lay panting on the ground. 

 

“Sh,” she murmured.  His grip relaxed enough for her to press her fingers to his face, to tug him back toward her.  “Sh,” she repeated.  She pressed kisses to his mouth once-twice-thrice and then he was kissing her back.  Groaning into her mouth and she thought finally but she wasn’t sure what she’d been waiting for. 

 

She pushed him back until they collapsed on her bed and she never found out what he’d wanted to say to her.

 

//

 

“I can’t do this anymore,” Will told her.  She scuffed a sneaker along the carpet in his room and ignored the annoyed look he shot her way.  “I love you, Yumi.  A lot.  But you don’t love me and you’re going to Paris in three months.  It’s time we stopped pretending, isn’t it?”

 

Her eyes rose to meet his and she leaned back against the wall.  Idly she scratched along the black ink permanently staining her wrist.  He reached over and took her hand, pressed his lips to the words written there.  “The fact that you’re not even going to argue…it tells me a lot,” he murmured against her skin. 

 

“It sounded like you’d made up your mind,” she replied.  She pulled her hand away and plucked at the tartan quilt.  Will heaved a sigh and reached for her again.  “Don’t touch me,” she snapped.  “Not after what you just said.”

 

“Yumi, please,” he said.

 

“Forget it.”  She got up and grabbed her bag.  “You’re right; I’m leaving in three months.  Wouldn’t want you to have to pretend anymore.”  She stomped across the room to the door.

 

“Yumi, damn it, that’s not what I meant!” Will protested.  He grabbed her arm and spun her around, pressed her against the door.

 

“Careful, Will,” she cautioned.  He searched her eyes, brushed the hair out of her face.  “What are you doing?”

 

He leaned in and kissed her hard.  Hard enough to bruise, to cut lips against sharp teeth.  His grip left purple marks on her arms for days afterward.  He pulled back and studied her face again.  She raised an eyebrow curiously.  “Nothing,” he said and his tone was just shy of despondent.  “I loved you, Yumi.”

 

“Obviously,” she snapped.  She elbowed him before opening the door and storming out.  She didn’t stop running until she got home.

 

“Yumi?” her mother called.  She had a pencil behind her ear and a red pen in her hand.  She was in the middle of editing.  “Are you okay?  What happened?”

 

“Will dumped me.”

 

“Oh, Yumi, I’m-”

 

“Save it,” she snapped.  “You were right, guys will only break my heart.”

 

“Yumi, I didn’t-”

 

“I’m going to bed.”

 

. . … . .

 

“Hey, Yumi, right?”  She looked up at the voice.  “Let me help you with that.”  The cardboard box she was struggling with was suddenly pulled out of her arms.

 

It took her a minute to place the face.  “…John?” she asked.

 

He gave her a slight smile.  “Close.  It’s Sean.”  She flushed and nodded.  “You moving in here?”

 

“Yeah, school…”

 

“Cool.”  He hitched the box higher and nodded to the door.  “Lead the way.”

 

“Oh, no, I can manage…”

 

“Yumi, it’s fine.” 

 

“Oh, okay.  Thanks.” She led the way so he wouldn’t see her flushed face.  His eyes dropped to her wrist.

 

“So I guess no more mistakes, huh?” he asked.

 

She gave a smile as she fumbled with her key and the door.  “None worth remembering,” she replied.  She managed to get the door opened and sighed.  “Sorry for the mess.”

 

“Can’t be worse than my place.”  He entered and ignored the piled boxes and clothes and scattered dishes.  “Where do you want it?”

 

“On the table’s fine.”  He placed it carefully on top of a stack of newspapers threatening to slide sideways off the table.  “Well, thanks again.”

 

“No problem.”  He gave her an easy smile.  “You want to get some coffee?  I know a café down the street-”

 

“Oh, well I’m not…I mean…”

 

“Yumi, it’s just coffee.  Just to welcome you to the city.  It’s okay.”  He hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans and bounced up and down on the balls of his feet, watching her intently. 

 

She blew a strand of hair out of her face.  “Yeah, sure, okay.”  He broke out in a wide smile and she couldn’t help but grin back.  “It sounds really great actually.”

 

She reached for her purse and he shook his head, grabbed her arm and pulled her out the door.  “Nah, I’m buying.”

 

“But-”

 

His dark eyes twinkled as he smiled down at her while she locked the door.  “If you have to then think about it as a welcome-to-Paris gift.”

 

“Is that what it is?” she asked, pocketing her key. 

 

“Doesn’t have to be,” he agreed.  He held the outer door open for her.  “But we’ll have to wait and see, won’t we?” 

Chapter 5: Goth

Notes:

Warnings: Language, snarkiness.

Rating: PG

Author's Note: Here's the next chapter. Hopefully it isn't as angsty as prior chapters have been. Thank you to everyone who has been reading. I hope you enjoy it.

4. She was not a goth and she hated it when people assumed she was.

 

Her father looked up from his morning paper and frowned.  “Go change.”

 

She frowned back and grabbed the carton of milk from the counter.  “What?  Why?”

 

“I won’t have you dressed as some goth.  Go put on something decent.”

 

“This is decent!” she exclaimed.  Hiroki snickered into his cereal and she kicked his chair as she passed him.  “Shut-up, runt.”

 

“Don’t call me that,” he snapped.

 

“I’m not a goth.”  She ignored her brother and poured milk on her cereal. 

 

“You look like one,” Hiroki supplied.  “All dressed in black and mopey looking.”

 

“Shut-up,” she snapped again.

 

“Yumi, I’m not going to say it again.”  Yumi rolled her eyes and stabbed the spoon angrily into the bowl.

 

“Say what?” her mother questioned as she entered the kitchen.  She fumbled with the clasp of her necklace and searched the fridge for the milk. 

 

“Do you see what your daughter is wearing, Akiko?”

 

Her mother spared a look at her, spotted the milk, and hurried over.  “I think she looks nice.  I could do without the midriff showing, but that’s the style these days, isn’t it?”  Her father spluttered while her mother poured a glass of milk and finger combed Hiroki’s unruly hair.  “You’re in need of a haircut.”

 

“Mom!” he protested.

 

“Nice?” he gasped.  “Nice?  She should change this instant!”  His hands clenched in his newspaper and he took a vicious bite out of his toast, spilling crumbs on his new tie.  “She looks like a hoodlum.”

 

“I thought she was goth?” her mother replied.

 

Yumi groaned.  “I’m not a goth!” she exclaimed.  She shoved her chair back and grabbed her bag from where she’d dropped it on the floor.  “I’m going to school.”

 

“What about your breakfast?” her mother called.

 

“I’ll eat at school!”  She grabbed a granola bar on her way out and escaped to school half an hour early.

 

. . … . .

 

Odd had a glint in his eyes and a mischievous quirk to his smile that reminded Yumi a little too much of her little brother.  He sprawled on the bench next to Ulrich and gave her a once over.  She wanted to cross her arms over her chest but wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her squirm.  Ulrich elbowed Odd away from him but the blonde just resumed his previous position as soon as the offending appendage was removed.

 

“So you’re a goth?” he asked.

 

Jeremie looked up distractedly from his laptop.  He gave her a small smile and rolled his eyes at Odd before returning to his typing.  Yumi’s eyes narrowed while Ulrich elbowed Odd again, this time in the ribs.  “I’m not a goth,” she replied.

 

“Right,” Odd agreed.  He eyed Yumi.  “You sure you aren’t a goth?  You look the part, pale with dark hair and clothes…”

 

“I’m.  Not.  A. Goth.”

 

“I mean, at first I thought it was just that you were having a black day, but you’ve come to school like this for two days straight.  I’m surprised your geisha get up isn’t black on Ly-”

 

Jeremie made a strangled sound and glowered at Odd over the top of his glasses.  “Odd,” he warned.

 

“Well, I’m just surprised you wore color,” he supplied.

 

“Says the boy who always wears purple?” she retorted.  Odd’s eyes narrowed and his smile twisted to something just shy of malicious.

 

“Girls love a guy who’s in touch with his femininity,” he replied.  His eyes flicked over her again.  “Guys probably think you’re on your way to a funeral.”

 

“Don’t be an ass,” Ulrich muttered.  Odd shrugged and ran a hand through his newly styled hair.

 

“Too late,” Yumi snapped.  She stepped over Odd’s outstretched legs and took a seat next to Jeremie on the other bench.  Ulrich gave her a helpless look and she rolled her eyes.  “It’s in his DNA.”

 

“Ha-ha-ha,” Odd replied when Ulrich snorted.  “It’s an easy assumption to make.”

 

“Except when emphatically disputed,” Yumi returned.  Odd shrugged and pulled out a notebook and paper.  Yumi dug through her own bag to find the novel she was supposed to have finished three days ago.  “Goth,” she muttered under her breath.  She ignored Ulrich’s smile and opened the book.

 

. . … . .

 

Hina squealed when she opened her door and threw her arms around her.  “Yumi!” she shrieked.  “I’ve missed you so much!”  She took a step back and her eyebrows disappeared under her hair.  “I know you’ve always had a proclivity for black…but goth?”

 

Yumi’s eyes rolled as Hina pulled her into the apartment.  “Not you too,” she sighed.  “My grandmother scolded for twenty-eight minutes straight about my lifestyle choices,” she moaned.  “I’m not goth.  I just like black.”

 

Hina’s eyes danced and she led her down the hall to her room.  “It’s a bit shocking.  When you lived here you wore some color.”  Hina shoved her into the large pink chairs and took a seat on her bed.  “So tell me…how hot are French guys?”

 

Yumi chuckled.  “Hina.”

 

“Don’t deprive me, Yumi.”

 

“Not that much,” she replied.  “There is one…but he’s not French, he’s German.  The only thing is…”  Her face heated and she shrugged.  Hina laughed and threw a pillow at her head.

 

“Don’t leave me hanging!”

 

“Well…we just met.  And he’s a year younger…”

 

“You cougar!” Hina teased.  “But he’s hot?  What’s his name?”

 

“Forget it, what about you?  You’ve only talked about school in your emails lately.”  Yumi twirled the pink chair from side-to-side and studied her friend curiously.  Hina shrugged a thin shoulder and chewed on the ends of a lock of hair.

 

“Oh, nothing much.  You know…”

 

“Come on, spill it!”  She tossed the pillow back.  “Hina?”

 

“Nothing!  Really!” Hina protested.  She laughed and started in on a long story about her sister’s latest cooking failure and Yumi forgot the secretive look in her eye.

 

. . … . .

 

“I don’t get it.” 

 

Sissi’s voice had gotten progressively louder until Ulrich had been forced to grab her by the arm and pull her out of the courtyard and nearer to the sports field.  Yumi stood with Odd and Jeremie and watched Ulrich try and calm the girl.  Sissi’s hands flailed and one of them connected with Ulrich’s shoulder.

 

“Ten Euros says she’ll run sobbing by,” Odd said.  He was already digging in his pocket for the money.

 

“Odd,” Jeremie groaned.  He rolled his eyes at the other blonde.  “Sissi’d have to have feelings for that to happen.”

 

Yumi smirked and leaned a shoulder against the brick wall behind them.  “I’ll take that bet.”  They handed their money to Jeremie for safe keeping and Jeremie sighed. 

 

She watched as Ulrich put a hand on Sissi’s shoulder.  The girl stilled and she looked over at their group.  “This should be good,” Odd noted.

 

Yumi wasn’t sure if it was good, but it was entertaining.  Sissi’s voice increased in pitch as Ulrich stepped away.  He walked slowly back to their group, hands deep in his pockets.  Yumi couldn’t hear all the words but she caught the end well enough.  The whole courtyard caught the end.  “-for that goth-girl Ishiyama, aren’t you?” Sissi screamed. 

 

“I’m not a goth,” Yumi seethed.

 

Odd snorted and cackled, leaned against Jeremie and they watched Sissi storm dry-eyed away to the rear of the school.

 

Ulrich reached their group and offered them a thin smile.  “Come on,” he said.  “Let’s go get supper.” 

 

. . … . .

 

“Don’t forget I want you home by ele-” 

 

Her father’s voice broke off suddenly and she looked up curiously.  “Dad?  Is everything okay?”  She grabbed her phone and checked for texts or missed calls.  She wasn’t ready to admit it was becoming an obsession.

 

“I…uh, you look nice, Yumi.”  Her father blinked at her from the armchair.  She frowned in confusion.  He’d seen her wear the deep burgundy dress before and hadn’t commented on it before.  “I forgot what color looked like on you.”

 

Her eyes narrowed into a scowl.  “Don’t start, please.”

 

“Right, well.  Eleven, remember that.”  She nodded and slipped her phone into the small purse her mother had bought her last week.  “Have fun at the dance.”

 

“Thanks.”  She kissed his cheek and slipped out the door.

 

. . … . .

 

She could feel the eyes staring at her.  She lifted her gaze from the novel she was reading for class and spotted Aelita watching her curiously across the library table.  “Something wrong?” she asked.  She wondered if this was Aelita’s way of telling her there was something on her face.

 

Aelita’s face flushed and she shrugged.  “No…I just…Well, Odd and I were watching a movie last night-” 

 

Yumi could see where this was going but she still had to ask.  “Oh, really?  And…?”

 

Aelita’s cheeks darkened minutely.  “He was explaining cliques and styles and well…you’re…goth…?” she asked tentatively. 

 

She closed her eyes and counted silently to ten.  “No,” she replied.

 

“Oh.”  Her forehead creased.  “Emo?  Punk?”

 

Yumi snorted at the last one and shook her head.  “I’m just me.  I like black,” she said simply.  “Like you like pink and Odd likes purple.”  She watched Aelita think it over, chewing her lip as she thought. 

 

“I see,” she said finally.  “So you won’t mind if we go shopping?”

 

“I won’t,” Yumi agreed with a smile.  “Saturday at two?”  Aelita beamed.

 

. . … . .

 

Yumi hesitated.  She twisted to study her reflection in the mirror and smoothed the skirt again.  There was a knock on the front door and she heard her mother call her name.  She slipped her feet into her shoes and grabbed her purse before heading downstairs. 

 

Will’s eyes lit up when they saw her and she felt the beginnings of a blush stain her cheeks.  He let out a low whistle.  “You look great.”

 

“Thanks,” she replied.

 

Her father entered from the kitchen, attracted by Will’s whistle.  Hiroki trailed him.  His face paled before turning red while Hiroki stopped and stared.  “Go change.”

 

She looked over at him in surprise and Will’s grin was quickly smothered.  “What?  Why?”

 

“I won’t have you dressed as some…some...”  Her father seemed at a loss for words.  He clenched his fists and rubbed at his face.  “Go put on something decent. That black dress you have.”

 

“This is decent!” she exclaimed.  Hiroki snickered and she glowered.  “Shut-up, runt.”  She turned to Will.  “It’s okay, right?”

 

Will looked uneasy.  “I think you look great in everything,” he said finally.  He shot a cautious side-eyed look to her father.

 

“I thought you didn’t like the black.”  She glanced down at the red dress she was wearing.  It might have been a little shorter than her usual but it was hardly indecent.    

 

“That’s beside the point!  Yumi, I’m not going to say it again.” 

 

“Say what?” her mother questioned as she entered the hall.  She was fumbling with putting batteries in the digital camera, cursing softly in Japanese. 

 

“Do you see what your daughter is wearing, Akiko?”

 

Her mother spared a look at her, and offered a smile.  “Yes, doesn’t she look beautiful?”  Her father spluttered furiously.  “Doesn’t she?”  She didn’t wait for a response but waved Yumi and Will together.  “I want pictures!” she exclaimed.

 

“Mom!” she protested.

 

“Beautiful?” her father managed to gasp.  “Beautiful?  Look at that hemline!  Look at that neckline – not you!” he exclaimed when Will glanced at Yumi.  “You keep your eyes and hands to yourself.  (“Dad!” she protested angrily.)  She should change this instant!” 

 

“Hush, Takeyo,” her mother snapped.  “Our daughter looks like a beautiful young woman.  Now, smile.”  She clicked the camera repeatedly, until Yumi was half blind from the flash. 

 

“Okay, we’re going, we’re going to be late,” Yumi said after the twentieth flash.  She grabbed Will’s hand, tugging him to the door.  “Bye.”

 

“Bye, Mr. Ishiyama, Mrs. Ishiyama.  See ya, kiddo,” Will called.

 

“I want you home by nine!” her father hollered as they crossed the porch.

 

“Takeyo,” her mother sighed.  “Eleven, Yumi.  You’re to be home by eleven,” she called.  As the door closed she heard her mother laugh.  “Honestly, Takeyo, at least it isn’t black.  I was getting tired of her goth phase.”

 

Yumi groaned, her head found Will’s shoulder while his arm wrapped around her.  “I’m not a goth,” she groaned.

 

They crossed the street and he chuckled.  “I know,” he laughed.  He kissed the top of her head and she smiled. 

Chapter 6: Guilt

Notes:

Warnings: Language, snarkiness, death.

Rating: PG

Author's Note: Hey, guys. Sorry for the long wait. I had a lot of schoolwork and then I got sick and well...I was still kind of sick when I finished this so let me know if it sounds loopy.

5. She seriously considered leaving Sissi to drown during one X.A.N.A. attack (she didn't, but the guilt stayed with her).

Yumi's phone vibrated in her pocket. She fished it out as she hurried across the courtyard toward the cafeteria where she was supposed to meet the boys. There was a soft drizzle falling from the grey clouds overhead and it was beginning to pick up. It was from Ulrich and she felt a smile war with a frown.

XANA.

The frown won. A moment later it buzzed again, this time from Jeremie. Heading to factory from gym. Meet you there.

She typed a response and took off for the trees.

"And where are you going?"

Yumi groaned but didn't stop. "Not now, Sissi." She wondered if the girl would follow her into the sewers or if she'd be too worried about getting something on her new shoes.

"You're up to something," Sissi protested. "Are you meeting up with Ulrich? I know you four are up to something."

"We are not. Go away," Yumi snapped. She kept an eye out for anything attack-worthy but the woods were silent. Except for the rumble of thunder overhead. The rain picked up, falling haphazardly through the leaves.

"He was never this secretive before you came into the picture," Sissi reported. "Ugh, why does there have to be mud?" she whined.

"There isn't any at the school," Yumi retorted. "Go. Away."

"No. I don't know what you have over Ulrich but I'm going to find out."

Yumi groaned and spun around, glaring at Sissi. She was close to the sewer entrance now and she could hear the river running just beyond the shrubs. She had to get rid of Sissi now. "I don't have anything over Ulrich," Yumi snapped. "We're friends. He likes hanging out with me. He doesn't like you. You're annoying and persistent and you're so full of yourself that you think everyone wants to fall over themselves to be next to the great Elisabeth Delmas and –"

She stopped at the look on Sissi's face. Sissi's mouth curled into a sneer and her eyes narrowed. "I don't know why I bother," she muttered. "I hope you all get caught and expelled for whatever it is you're doing."

"Well, at least it would mean going to a school away from you," Yumi replied. Her phone buzzed in her pocket and the rain soaked through her clothes. "Just go back to school," she sighed.

Yumi turned on her heel and stomped off before Sissi could respond.

She had the manhole open when she heard the crash and scream. She hesitated, listening. All she could hear now was the rumble of thunder and the persistent patter of the increasing downpour. "Sissi?" she called. She let the cover fall back into place with a sharp clang.

Nothing.

Groaning as her phone buzzed again, she stood and retraced her steps to where she had last seen Sissi. She stopped and blinked the rainwater out of her eyes. There was a gaping hole where there wasn't one before. Hesitantly, she crossed the grass and edged along the perimeter trying to see Sissi in the pit.

"Sissi?" she called again. There was a groan and for a moment she thought it was Sissi. And then the earth gave way beneath her feet.

/

Yumi felt as though she'd been hit by a truck, or something. She sat up and rubbed at her eyes. She was sitting in a room, she realized. It looked like a maintenance room for the sewers. And it was filled with broken concrete and muddy earth and water. She looked around, noticed the rusty broken pipe jutting out of the wall that poured water. That and the downpour seemed to be what was quickly filling the room with water.

She wondered briefly if this was the X.A.N.A. attack or just fate's twisted sense of humor. Yumi tucked her hair behind her ears and looked around again. There was a metal door set in the wall beneath the pipe, a support bar slanted across it. Sissi was curled in a corner, eyes closed and breathing shallow. She didn't look injured from here though.

She got to her feet and managed to knock the support beam aside but the door wouldn't move. Icy water poured over her head and she backed away quickly. After a moment of contemplating the door she pulled out her phone. The screen was black and when she pressed the power button it gave a dull whine and a feeble shake before falling silent again. "Shit," she grumbled.

She kicked at the door angrily. A metallic clang echoed and despite her boots her toes ached. "Must you?" Sissi whined from behind her. She wouldn't admit that she was happy to hear that she wasn't dead.

"Forgive me for trying to get us out of here," Yumi snapped.

Sissi groaned and her head connected with the dirt-smeared wall. "My head hurts. I think I'm going to puke." There was a pause and she heard Sissi shift. "Why am I all wet? There's water everywhere."

Yumi counted to ten before turning to face her. "It's raining, and there's a broken pipe." Sissi made a face like it was her fault they were in a flooding room. "You hit your head pretty hard," she added. Sissi groaned and drew her knees up to her chin. "It might help to put your head between your legs?"

"I know that, Ishiyama," Sissi growled. "I'm not an idiot." She bent her head and took deep, shuddering breaths. "Honestly, of all the people in the entire school, I'm stuck with you?"

"I thought your head hurt?" Yumi snapped. She went back to attempting to break the door or attract someone's attention, not that she expected anyone to be wandering the woods but maybe there was a maintenance worker or-

"I almost wouldn't mind Della Robbia," Sissi sighed in the echoes.

/

Yumi tried her phone again. The rain had let up but the pipe was still gushing and while some of the water was draining through the crack under the door, most of it wasn't. It was up past her ankles now. Sissi sat trembling in a corner, bent over a bucket and vomiting intermittently.

"Good thing maintenance left that bucket here, huh?" Yumi asked conversationally. Sissi made a disgruntled noise.

Her phone beeped and fell silent.

She sighed and rubbed her face. Repeated kicks to the door had done nothing but make her foot and ankle throb painfully. She debated on going over and rubbing Sissi's shoulder or holding her hair back while she puked up her stomach while she waited for someone to find them, or for the Return, or something. Sissi made a gurgled noise and sat back, hand over her mouth and eyes glassy and distorted. "You okay?" Yumi asked.

Sissi ignored her question. "Was that Ulrich?" she asked.

Yumi shook her head and slid down the wall. She tilted her head back and studied the grey clouds and swaying branches overhead. If she could just get up there and get help… "No," she replied after a moment. "The water killed my phone." Sissi groaned and muttered something under her breath. It sounded like German and Yumi frowned. "I think you have a concussion."

"No duh," Sissi snapped. "Captain obvious, aren't you?"

"Hey, I'm trying to be nice, we're stuck here."

"Really?"

/

Sissi studied her through unfocused eyes and yawned widely. Yumi kicked her leg and Sissi glared at her. Her movement sent water splashing up around her waist. "Hey, no sleeping. We don't know how much more messed up your brain is right now."

"Can't be worse than Della Robbia's," Sissi stated. Yumi stared for a moment. Sissi cracked a smile and Yumi laughed.

"Yeah, can't be worse," she agreed. She heard something creak outside and frowned. "Did you hear that?"

"Wha-?"

She jumped up and began to hit the door again with a metal rod she'd found earlier. Tried to pry it open and felt one of her nails give. Blood streaked the door and then she heard Sissi vomiting again. There was another creak and then a hiss. "Can't handle blood?" she asked when the noises behind her stopped. "Why doesn't that surprise me?" She kicked at the door.

"Shut-up. I'm not a wuss." There was a pause and Yumi pressed her ear to the door to listen. There was a gurgling sound from the other side of the door. "What are you doing anyway?"

"Listening."

"To what?"

And that's when the water bubbled up from under the door.

/

Sissi breathed heavily in a corner. She was still sitting and the water was high on her waist. Yumi moved away from the door and the pipe. The most she could figure was that the sewer had overflowed the walkways and was fighting its way into the room.

"We have to try and get out," Yumi stated.

"I thought that was what you'd been trying to do," Sissi replied. Her voice was weak and Yumi eyed her. She didn't look good. Her skin was pale and drawn, her breathing coming in sharp pants and breathy gasps.

"Yeah, well, the door isn't working, is it?" Yumi snapped. She eyed the walls and wondered if Sissi could hold steady enough to give her a boost up. All she needed was to get a hold on the earth above and she'd be good. She didn't understand what was taking the guys so long. "Do you think you can stand?"

"Of course I can…Why?"

"Maybe you can boost me up. If I can get high enough then I can get out."

"No way, you'll just leave me here," Sissi retorted. "If I'm going to die you are too."

Yumi rolled her eyes and tugged at her hair. "You aren't going to die!"

Sissi's arms crossed over her chest and she looked at the rising water pointedly. "No?" she asked. "Then boost me out."

Yumi glowered. "You're concussed. You won't make it five feet before collapsing or throwing up or something. I can get back to the school and find Jim." Sissi's face darkened and Yumi narrowed her eyes. "You know I'm right."

"Fine," Sissi snapped. She staggered to her feet and shivered, gasped, and almost fell to her knees before Yumi grabbed her arm.

"What is it?"

"Dizzy," she replied. "And my ankle hurts. A lot." She winced and her face looked pinched. "Okay, let's do this." She moved to the wall and braced herself against it, wincing as she waded into the muddier section. Her hands formed a stirrup and she hunched over slightly. "Come on," she ordered.

Yumi hesitated, Sissi really looked unwell, before putting her foot in Sissi's cupped hands. "On the count of three?"

"Just, now," Sissi snapped.

Yumi pushed off with her other foot at the same time that Sissi straightened. She scrabbled at the ground and managed to grab onto something sturdy. She pulled and wiggled and managed to swing her leg up onto the solid ground. Gasping, she rolled over and stared up at the grey clouds.

"Hey!" Sissi called from below. "You're supposed to be getting Jim! Are you listening to me? Ishiyama!"

Yumi laid there counting heartbeats and breathing deeply. The air wasn't really any different up here, but somehow it was. She sat up and wrung out her shirt. She wondered if she should try and get Sissi out. She debated on going for Jim. She wondered if she should head for the factory.

She was three steps toward the manhole when she heard Sissi scream her name.

/

The water was rising faster and Yumi leaned as far as she dared over the edge of the pit. Sissi was treading water and looking faint. "Come on," she ordered, hand outstretched. "Just grab it, I'll pull you up."

"You were going to leave me," Sissi accused.

"Shut-up and reach," Yumi snapped. She inched a bit farther out and felt some of the earth give way. Dammit, she was going to kill the guys when she got ahold of them. "Come on."

Sissi reached out, hand just shy of connecting with Yumi's. Yumi cursed and stretched farther. She wasn't sure how she was going to pull her up but she had to try. She'd waited too long to try and get out and the water was pouring in faster and if a Return didn't happen she was going to kill someone. Sissi faltered and went under for a moment, came up spluttering and looking terrified.

"Fuck," Yumi cursed. She got to her feet, ignored Sissi's terrified yelp, and jumped into the pit. The water was colder than she remembered. She managed to get an arm around Sissi and drag her toward the corner farthest from the spluttering pipe. "Come on, try and get out," she ordered.

"I'm tired," Sissi replied. Her body wasn't shaking anymore and Yumi felt Sissi go limp.

Yumi growled. She would not have Elisabeth Delmas's death on her conscience. It was unaccept-

/

Yumi's phone vibrated in her pocket. She fished it out as she hurried across the courtyard toward the cafeteria where she was supposed to meet the boys. There was a soft drizzle falling from the grey clouds overhead and it was beginning to pick up. It was from Ulrich and she felt a smile war with a frown.

Missed you.

The smile won.

. . … . .

"You cut it a little sharp there at the end, goofing off like that," Yumi said to Odd. She bumped his shoulder and he laughed and bumped hers back. Ulrich shook his head and followed just behind them. She could practically hear his eyes rolling.

"Nah, I'm an ace with timing. Don't be so uptight, Yumi," Odd snorted. "You have to put on a bit of show, otherwise where's the fun?"

"It isn't supposed to be fun," Yumi replied. She wanted to question who he was putting on the show for but figured it would be safer if she didn't know. All they needed was Odd to try and make Aelita his next conquest, despite Jeremie's obvious infatuation.

"Yeah, yeah, you're starting to sound like Einstein," Odd groaned.

"When do you think we set back to?" Ulrich asked. "We're still at the factory."

"Don't know, we'll ask Einstein, hopefully it was after Hertz's test," Odd replied. He bounded into the supercomputer room ahead of them. "Hey, Einstein-!"

Yumi froze in the doorway, stared at the boy sitting hunched in the chair, head in his hands and shoulders shaking. She didn't have to see the screen to know something went wrong. She just wasn't sure she wanted to know what it was.

/

Jeremie's eyes were ringed in black. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week, which was exactly how long it had been since…since. Yumi sat on Ulrich's desk chair and watched Jeremie run distracted hands through his hair.

"Philippe Dumas," he said finally. "Six-years-old." He took a breath and stared at one of the posters taped above Ulrich's bed. "Freak accident, died by strangulation from an electrical cord."

Yumi inhaled sharply. Ulrich was staring at his hands; Odd was scratching Kiwi behind the ears.

"Funeral's in two days," Jeremie added in the quiet.

"We should go," Yumi stated.

"That would raise questions," Jeremie protested. "Unneeded questions."

They were silent except for the occasional rustle as Odd shifted on his bed. "Yumi's right," Ulrich said finally. "We don't have to…we don't have to make ourselves known. But we should be there. It's our fault."

Odd looked up, eyes locked on his roommate. "It's X.A.N.A.'s fault," he said quietly.

"It's ours too," Ulrich said softly.

"This is a mistake," Jeremie announced. But he didn't complain.

/

"Jeremie," she murmured. She laid on his bed while he typed on his laptop, fingers flying on the keys. Her finger traced the black letters on her wrist, her nail scraped along the vein. "Jeremie, I almost did something terrible."

"Confess your love to Ulrich?" he asked.

"What?" She sat up and glared at the back of his head. "No. I don't love Ulrich."

"Of course not," Jeremie replied. "What did you almost do? Tell someone about Lyoko?" He turned to eye her over his shoulder through narrowed, suspicious eyes.

"No," she snapped. "Never mind," she added. "It was a stupid mistake that won't happen again."

His eyes softened and he got up. She scooted over as he sat down next to her. His hand rested on her shoulder and he looked at her curiously. "Yumi, are you okay?"

Her chest tightened and she nodded. "Yeah. I'm good." She took a deep breath and focused on the letters and numbers on her wrist.

Jeremie's eyes drifted to them as well and he sighed. "Don't you think it's time you scrubbed those off?" he asked gently. "Isn't it time to forget?"

"Forget?" she repeated. "How could you want to forget?"

His blue eyes were confused when they met hers. "How could you not?" he asked.

/

Odd found her at the gravesite a month after the funeral. He didn't seem surprised, even if she was. He fussed with the wreath and plush animals decorating the grave before adding a teddy bear and bouquet of calla lilies to the offerings.

He gave a small smile when he caught her look. "You should stop beating yourself up," he told her. He squeezed her shoulder tentatively. "What's done is done."

"It could have been Sissi," she said. He looked up at her in shock and she felt her face pale. She hadn't meant to say that.

"What?"

"Sissi," she repeated. Odd took her arm and guided her to a bench. She stared out over the cemetery and tried to ignore his look. "Two months ago, when I didn't make it to the X.A.N.A. attack," she murmured. "Do you remember?"

"You said there was a cave in?"

"Yeah…Sissi was with me." She swallowed and shrugged. "She was concussed and there was a broken water pipe. It filled up pretty fast. I got out and I almost left her. I didn't think…I mean, I thought a Return would…even if something happened…"

Odd was silent, his lips pressed together.

"I…"

"It wasn't your fault," Odd said slowly. "Even if…even if it had been Sissi, it wouldn't have been your fault. You wouldn't have known, none of us knew. It would be hard, harder than this because we go to school with her and Delmas would have been crushed, you know? And Ulrich…" he trailed off and Yumi looked at him.

"Ulrich would have hated me."

"Ulrich would have gotten over it," he said with some conviction. He hesitated and then looked at her. "Why did you? Save her, I mean."

Yumi shrugged. "I wasn't going to. I was already at the manhole but…she screamed my name. Yumi, not Ishiyama. I could tell something was really wrong then."

Odd nodded. His hand rested on her shoulder briefly, squeezed it gently. He got to his feet and looked down at her. "I'm going back to the school, you coming?"

"No, I'm going to stay for a while."

He nodded again and then paused. "Yumi, it doesn't matter who it was. It was going to suck anyway. We know better now, and it's a good thing you care. It means you're a good person."

She rolled her eyes but smiled a little. She managed to wait until he disappeared through the iron gates before she drew her knees up and sobbed.

Chapter 7: Forever

Notes:

Warnings: None

Rating: G

Author's Note: So, I disappeared for awhile to a magical place full of textbooks, projects, and research papers...Trust me, never take nine classes in one semester if you can help it. Anyway, I'm back and here is the newest chapter. Hope you like it, let me know what you think!

6. There was a time when she honestly believed that she and Ulrich would last forever.

 

“Word is the new guy’s taken,” Shannon lamented.  She dropped her lunch tray onto the table and heaved a melodramatic sigh.

 

“Which new guy?” Yumi questioned.  It was a valid question.  It was the first week of school and there had been an influx of new students this year. 

 

“Ulrich Stern.”  Yumi snorted.

 

The whole school had been buzzing about this particular new guy – the football starter who was going to take them to the championships.  Yumi had listened to the gossip with half an ear as she flipped through one of her science books during her last class.  According to the girls in her class he was hot, even if he was a year younger.  The guys boasted of his skills on the field. 

 

She found the whole thing just shy of ridiculous.  All this fuss over an eighth grade jock.

 

“By whom?” she asked when Shannon wouldn’t stop staring at her.

 

“Only you would say whom,” Shannon groaned.  She tore her roll into pieces and glanced around surreptitiously.  “Sissi Delmas,” she whispered.

 

“Ugh.  The guy’s a jerk then.  I don’t know why you’re even interested, he’s younger than us, remember?  And I doubt he’s as hot as they say he is.”

 

“You haven’t seen him then?”

 

“No,” Yumi replied.  She drew out the “o” for good measure.  “Because he’s a year younger.”  Shannon gave her a calculating look and dipped her bread in the pasta sauce silently.

 

She forgot about the conversation until she walked into the gym for Pencak Silat.

 

There was a guy she didn’t recognize in there already.  He was stretching out on one of the mats.  He didn’t look like much, lightly tanned skin with brown hair.  He hadn’t hit his growth spurt yet since he looked shorter than her.  She dropped her bag and he looked over and she stopped.  His eyes were a dark brown and there was something calculating in them, something she couldn’t figure out.

 

“You here for the class?” she asked.

 

“Thought I was the only one,” he admitted.  His French had a slight accent to it, a bit gruffer than what she was used to hearing.  He stood and held out a hand.  “Ulrich Stern.” 

 

“Yumi Ishiyama,” she replied.  His hand was warm and dry when she shook it.

 

. . … . .

 

“Did you see Jim’s face after the pie exploded?” Ulrich questioned.  He dropped down next to her and she smiled when she saw the grin on his face.  It wasn’t often that Ulrich grinned wider than Odd did. 

 

“Did you see Sissi’s?” she retorted.  It had been brilliant, if messy.  Odd’s chocolate cream pies had exploded in perfect unison throughout the cafeteria.  Yumi laughed at the memory of Sissi’s face dripping chocolate cream.

 

“Yeah,” Ulrich agreed.  “But come on, Jim looked like a chocolate snowman.  He was standing right next tothe pies when they blew.”  He chuckled and she joined in, and then they were both laughing too hard.  The sun slanted through the leaves and for the first time she noticed that some of the strands in his hair looked golden. 

 

She reached out to touch them in surprise.  But her fingers had a mind of their own and they tangled up tight in his hair and her lips were on his.  Ulrich kissed her back, hands knotted up in her own hair and when her teeth caught his lip he only groaned and shit.

 

Yumi broke first, because if she didn’t she wouldn’t and she was not that type of girl. 

 

“Well,” he said.  He had a small smile on his face, his cheeks tinged pink, and he reached up to tuck her tangled hair behind her ear.

 

She doubled over laughing until he followed suit.  It was ridiculous.  Hadn’t she just told him a month ago that a relationship between them was impossible?  He was her friend and she didn’t want to give that up.  Not now, not ever.  They leaned together, her forehead pressed to his shoulder and his fingers dancing across her shoulders, until they caught their breath again.  “I don’t usually kiss on a first date,” she groaned.  She wondered if she’d just lived up to every rumor Robert Nattier had ever spread about her.

 

Below her forehead his shoulder rose in a shrug.  “Good thing this wasn’t a date, huh?” he teased, and she maybe, just maybe, loved him for it.  For not making this awkward.  For not calling her any of the names the boys in her grade liked to joke about.  “How about Friday night, seven-thirty?  We can have dinner in town.”

 

 “Sounds good,” she agreed.

 

//

 

Her father glowered while she didn’t pace in the front hall.  “I thought you two were just friends?” he asked gruffly.

 

“Yumi and Ulrich sitting in a tree-” Hiroki chirped from his perch on the stairs.

 

“Finish that song and you’ll be wishing-”

 

The doorbell rang and Yumi jumped.  Her father’s eyes narrowed.  Her mother appeared from the living room, grinning and gushing.  She straightened her father’s shirt and brushed some of Yumi’s hair out of her face. 

 

“Can’t you guys go linger someplace else?” Yumi whined.  She paused with her hand on the doorknob.

 

“Nonsense,” her mother replied.  “I want pictures.”  She lifted her camera as proof.  Yumi wished, not for the first time, that she had never bought that camera as a gift for her mother’s last birthday. “I need proof for your grandmother that you don’t just wear black.”  Yumi grit her teeth and smoothed down the skirt of her cobalt dress.  “Even if it is nearly as dark.”

 

“I want to talk to the boy,” her father snapped.

 

“And I’m enjoying this,” Hiroki added.

 

Yumi groaned and swung the door open.  Ulrich offered her a small smile and held out a hand to her father.  “Sir,” he said.  Her father snorted but shook his hand.

 

“Now, listen here, I don’t want any-”

 

“Pictures!” her mother chirped.

 

It took three threats, fifteen pictures, eight unhelpful comments from her darling brother, and five reassurances that she’d be home by eleven before they were able to escape.

 

//

 

“Did I say you look nice because you do,” Ulrich said.  “I mean, you look great all the time but you look-”

 

“Ulrich, it’s fine.  I know what you mean.  Thanks.”  She willed the blush away and tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear.  “You look good too.”  She fiddled with her necklace and smiled at the way his cheeks flushed to almost the same shade as hers. 

 

Ulrich held her hand and opened the door of the pub for her.  He smiled and listened and asked her questions she wasn’t sure she wanted to answer, but answered anyway.  He didn’t mention school or their classmates.  He gave her order to the waitress and didn’t let his eyes linger on her short skirt the way Ryan Carrigan had when he took her out a few months back.

 

She felt herself relax and laugh and was surprised at how very not awkward it was. 

 

Why hadn’t she let this happen earlier?

 

“Do you miss Japan?” Ulrich questioned.  He broke his breadstick in two and dipped it in the garlic oil absently.

 

“Sometimes, the festivals mostly.  The traditions.  My family and friends.”  He nodded and she didn’t mention that she really only kept in contact with one friend now.  “Do you miss Germany?”

 

He shrugged and his jaw clenched briefly around the piece of bread he’d bitten into.  “What was your favorite festival?” he asked.

 

She knew he was dodging the question, but she loved Japan’s festivals enough to let it slide.  She watched as he leaned back in his booth, arms crossed loosely and smile gently curling his mouth.  His eyes never left hers and when he reached across to squeeze her hand when she paused, she felt the shiver from her hair to her toes at the contact.

 

After dinner they walked around town.  They talked about classes and teachers, about the upcoming tournament and the lack of students interested in learning pencak silat.  “Want an ice cream?” he asked.

 

“Sure,” she replied.

 

They stopped at the little cart in the square and waited as a group of younger kids ordered.  She got a cup of strawberry-peanut butter ice cream and eyed the cup he held.  “Have enough chocolate?” she teased. 

 

Ulrich flushed as he looked down at the cup in his hand.  It was chocolate coated in hot fudge.  She opened her mouth to apologize but he shrugged.  “I like chocolate,” he replied simply.  “How’s the ice cream?”

 

“Mm, really good,” she replied.  She scooped some up and offered him the spoon.  “Want some?”

 

“Nah, not really fan of that flavor.”

 

“Strawberry?”

 

“No, peanut butter.”  He shrugged at the look on her face and pointed to an empty bench near the fountain.  “Want to sit?”

 

“Sure,” she agreed. 

 

//

 

He brought her home at ten-fifty.

 

Yumi could see her father waiting in the living room, silhouetted against the blinds.  “I hope you had a good time tonight,” Ulrich said.  He scuffed the toe of his sneaker against her porch, a nervous habit she’d picked up on. 

 

“Of course, didn’t you?” she replied.  He smiled and she took his hand, squeezed it lightly.  “I’m really glad you asked me out.”

 

“I’m glad you said yes.”  He chanced a look at the living room window before leaning in and kissing her cheek gently.  His breath smelled like chocolate and she raised her eyebrows questioningly at him.  “I know you don’t kiss on the first date,” he replied.  Before she could reply he’d backed up and was standing on the stairs.  “Goodnight, Yumi.  I’ll talk to you later.”

 

“Goodnight, Ulrich,” she replied.  She smiled as she unlocked the door and entered.  He waited until she was safe inside before he left. 

 

Yumi watched him go through the sheer drapes covering the front window and thought that maybe she’d found her prince charming after all.

 

“How was your date?” her mother asked from the kitchen.  She was steeping tea and in her fuzzy robe. 

 

“It was…nice,” she said after a moment.  Nice didn’t begin to describe it but it was close enough.  She smiled.  “It was really nice.”

 

“Hmph,” her father harrumphed from the living room.  “At least this boy’s punctual unlike the last one.”

 

“Takeyo,” her mother warned.  But Yumi didn’t care.  She grinned all the way up the stairs, through changing and scrubbing her face, and fell asleep with a small smile still in place.

 

. . … . .

 

The thing though, she noticed, was that the happy-feeling lasted.  It wasn’t just a good date, it wasn’t just an interesting conversation or the fact that they were both interested in traveling and martial arts and saving the world.  It was that it never got boring.  They had Common Interests, something the magazines she read in the doctor’s lobby told her was a Good Thing. 

 

So what if they fought occasionally, who didn’t?  Her parents could certainly argue it out but they still loved each other, they were still a family.  Why would she think she was any different?

 

“Yumi.”

 

“Huh, what?”  She looked up and met Ulrich’s eyes.  “I’m sorry, were you saying something?”  He shook his head and laced their fingers together.  Three months together, she thought.  Three months and we’re still happy, still us. 

 

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

 

“Nothing, really.  I’m just tired.”  She stretched out her sore arms and caught the smirk he didn’t try to hide.  “That last move was cheating, you realize.”

 

“Sure, sure.”

 

“Just because it works for you on Lyoko doesn’t mean you can do it on Earth,” she added, then nudged him in the ribs for good measure.  She knew her heel had caught him under the fourth.  Sure enough he winced and lost the smug look he’d won since he’d pinned her to the ground earlier.

 

“Yeah, well, it seemed to work fine on you,” he commented.  His fingers combed through the knots in her ponytail and she sighed. 

 

“Maybe next time we should fight on Lyoko and I can watch you duck my fans,” she retorted.  His face closed off like it sometimes did and she frowned, reaching up to touch his shoulder.  “Ulrich?”

 

He shook his head and smiled down at her.  “Nah, it’s fine.  I don’t think we should use the scanners without Jer around, you know what happened to Odd?”

 

“I’m sure he was goofing off.”  He was right though, and she didn’t push it. 

 

//

 

“What did Emily want?” she asked.  Ulrich looked up, surprised. 

 

“What?”

 

“Emily, what did she want?  You were just talking to her on the bleachers and she gave you something?” Yumi added.  Ulrich shrugged and finished crossing the field. 

 

“Nothing, just something for a class.”

 

“A class?”

 

His eyes narrowed and he dragged her behind the gym and away from prying eyes.  “Yes, now drop it.  What’s the big deal?”

 

“The big deal?  There isn’t a big deal.  You could just tell me.”  She crossed her arms and glared at him through narrowed eyes.  “Come on, I know it wasn’t for a class, you don’t have any classes together.”

 

“She edited one of my essays for me for literature, okay?  Can you stop glaring at me like that now?” 

 

“I’m not glaring at you.”

 

“You are.”

 

“I’m not.”  She grabbed his arm as he went to brush past her and he glared. 

 

“Let go.”

 

“Not until we’re done.  Why didn’t you come to me?  I would have edited it for you.”  Her eyes were still narrowed and her fingers dug into his arm. 

 

“Because you’re busy enough as it is,” he replied.  “Does it matter?”  He jerked his arm and managed to break free only to pin her by the shoulders to the wall of the gym. 

 

“I don’t know, maybe,” she replied.  She pressed back, heels of her hands against his shoulders and sternum.  

 

“It doesn’t.”  He reached up to tangle his fingers in her hair and tug her head back.  “It doesn’t,” he repeated over-and-over against her neck.  He nipped at her skin between each repetition.  He pressed harder against her shoulders and she relaxed back into the wall, waited until he bit at her jawline before she lunged and twisted, reversing their positions.

 

“It does,” she told him.  “It does because you could have just told me.  Why the big secret?  Why the hedging?  It matters.” 

 

“Because I didn’t want this to happen,” he snapped.  His hands were still tangled in her hair and he yanked her forward, kicking out her left leg in the process so that she fell into him.  Into his arms and against his chest, mouths fused together like they were magnets.  He kissed her hard and she pressed back, not giving an inch until he began to relent. 

 

“I didn’t want you to get angry,” he told her in between kisses.  She realized her back was against the rough brick again and had no recollection of when that had happened.  “I know you don’t like Emily.”  Another kiss and she allowed it to be softer, slower, more lingering.  “I didn’t want to fight with you.”

 

“Mm, but making up is always so fun,” she replied.  He laughed until she tugged him back in for another kiss.  And that was the truth, she thought.  Every fight was worth it because the making up made it so.  The kisses, the touches, the jealous and possessive looks that meant that each was wanted, each was desired.  She knew Ulrich had those looks, those thoughts, too.  It wasn’t just her.  This was why they worked so well together; this was why they were perfect: they got each other.  They understood that it wasn’t possessiveness or jealousy or dysfunctional; it was so much more than all of that. 

 

It was love.

Chapter 8: Insomniac

Notes:

Warnings: None, unless you count (non canon) het?

Rating: G

Author's Note: So, a bit of a wait, but here's the next part. I have to say that I was actually really looking forward to this and basically wanted to keep going but thought it would get a bit...much after awhile. This part is kind of close to me because I have horrible insomnia and often times ate breakfast with my father at a truly ridiculous hour. And that ridiculous hour was the best because it was the only time I really got to see him, so yay, some real life slipping in!

7. Her parents wondered how she turned into an insomniac - she could never properly explain that it was because she was waiting for her phone to ring any second.

 

“Yumi,” her father greeted, surprised.  Yumi flashed him a smile over her shoulder and reached for a bowl.  “Why are you awake?”

 

“I took a nap yesterday, guess I’m just not tired,” she replied.  She poured in cereal and added milk.  Her smile was bright even as her father studied her critically.  “How are you?”

 

Her father settled back in his chair and returned to his toast.  “Good and you?”

 

“Good,” she replied.  She tucked her hair behind her ear and let the silence settle in.  The crunch of toast and pop of cereal filled the room, along with the gentle turning of a page and the scrape of a spoon on the edge of a bowl.  Yumi’s eyes drifted to her cell, watching the minutes tick by slowly on the digital clock.

 

“Expecting a call?” her father asked.

 

“What?  No.  Of course not.  It’s four in the morning, who would call now?” she laughed. 

 

“My thoughts exactly.”  He reached forward and she grabbed the phone, secreting it away in the pocket of her hoodie.  An eyebrow arched above his glasses and he calmly grabbed a napkin from the holder in front of her.  She ducked her head to hide flushed cheeks. 

 

. . … . .

 

Yumi woke with a gasp.  Her hair stuck to her sweaty forehead and her she had to peel her shirt away from her chest and stomach.  Her hands fumbled along the side of her bed until she could find her phone in the dark.  She pressed a button, watched the screen light up, and checked phone calls and text messages.

 

No new messages.

 

Her relief came in a whooshed sigh, and she fell back onto the pillows, phone clutched to her chest and heart beating too fast to fall back to sleep.

 

. . … . .

 

Her mother knocked lightly on her bedroom door.  A gentle tap-tap-tap that she didn’t hear over the music pulsing from her ear buds.  She jerked as one ear bud was tugged from her ear.  “Yumi,” her mother sighed.  She ran a hand over her face and gave Yumi a tired look.  “It’s after one in the morning, what are you doing up?  You have school in the morning.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.  I was just studying for my history test tomorrow,” she replied.  She lifted her textbook up like proof and ignored the way her mother studied her face.  “I’ll…I’ll go to bed.  Soon,” she added, dredged up a bright smile from some depth and prayed her mother wouldn’t catch the lie.

 

“Yumi…”  Yumi dropped her gaze and her mother sighed, sat on the edge of her bed and reached for her hand.  “Yumi, is everything okay?”

 

“Yeah, everything’s fine.  Great even.  I’m just worried about the test, you know because it’s worth a lot of points and…” she trailed off as her phone buzzed.

 

“Who could possibly be texting you at this hour?” her mother demanded.  She reached for Yumi’s phone but Yumi dropped her book on it and laughed nervously.

 

“No one, probably a wrong number.  Or Shannon.  It could be Shannon, she was studying for the test too.”  She yawned and stretched.  “I’m exhausted, better rest up.  For the test.  Goodnight, Mom.”

 

Her mother sighed and tucked the fallen strands behind Yumi’s ear.  “Go to sleep, Yumi.  Goodnight.”  She flicked the light off and closed the bedroom door behind her.

 

Yumi laid in the dark, eyes staring into space and counted heartbeats until she heard her mother’s door close.  One hundred twenty-eight heartbeats after that she checked her phone and swallowed hard.

 

X.  ROUS attack.  L in 15.

-Odd

 

With a groan she reached for her sweatshirt and pulled it on, popped her window open and swung a leg out.  Really? Yumi thought as she dropped to the ground.  Why can’t X.A.N.A. attack at a decent hour? 

 

. . … . .

 

She woke with a scream, phone clenched tight in her fist and the bitter taste of blood and bile in her mouth.

 

She stumbled to the bathroom, rinsed her mouth, and didn’t sleep the rest of the night.

 

. . … . .

 

“How’s school going?” her father asked.  He ignored her look and spooned more sugar into his hot tea.  She wondered what it said that he didn’t even question her joining him for breakfast at four o’clock anymore.

 

“It’s good.  I got a hundred on my literature essay,” she replied.  She sipped her orange juice and slathered jam on her toast.  “I was the only one in class to do so.”

 

“That’s wonderful,” he replied.  He gave her a warm smile and reached over to ruffle her hair.  “You’ve been studying very hard lately.  Your mother and I are very proud of you.”

 

“Thanks,” she replied, felt the small smile tug at her lips in return.  “How’s work?”

 

Her father’s face turned sour and stiff.  “The usual,” he answered.  “Bureaucratic nonsense.”  He paused and collected his dirty dishes.  “You shouldn’t make plans for Friday.  There’s a party and your mother and I are going, we’ll need you to watch your brother.”

 

“Of course,” Yumi replied.

 

“That’s my girl,” he said with a smile.  He ruffled her hair again on his way past.  She waited until he was heading upstairs to take his shower before she made her first coffee of the day.

 

. . … . .

 

“Yumi.  Yu-mi.  Yumi.”

 

She jerked into wakefulness and Odd chortled as she flailed wildly to regain her balance.  She caught herself on the library table while the librarian gave them the evil eye.  Ulrich hit Odd upside the back of the head and Jeremie gathered their belongings quickly and silently.

 

Yumi waited until they were on the library steps before kicking Odd in the shin.  “Ow!” he yelped.  “What was that for?”

 

“Knocking my chair back,” she snapped.

 

“I tried to wake you politely, didn’t I guys?”  Jeremie snorted and Ulrich shrugged.  “I was saving you a fine anyway.  You were about to drool on your book.”

 

“Gee, thanks,” she muttered.  She rubbed at her mouth and chin self-consciously, but surely Jeremie or Ulrich would be considerate enough to tell her if she had any dried drool.  She felt bone weary and sluggish, her head was stuffy and she couldn’t stifle her yawns.

 

“You okay?” Ulrich asked.

 

“I’m fine,” she replied, flashed a too-brief smile.  “Long day is all.”

 

“Yumi,” Jeremie started but she waved a hand, cut him off.

 

“Really, guys.  I’m fine.  I’ve got to get home, text me if anything happens.”

 

She stumbled home to bed, grabbed a few hours of sleep before the worry and fear took hold.

 

. . … . .

 

She thought it would be easier once Aelita was materialized.  She thought the attacks would lessen, or stop.  She’d thought Jeremie would be able to shut down Lyoko finally.  She didn’t anticipate that it would get more complicated.  That suddenly they wouldn’t be able to use the Returns, which meant she needed to be sneakier.

 

In hindsight, she really should have expected it.

 

. . … . .

 

“All I’m saying, Takeyo, is that if you worked decent hours she wouldn’t be up half the night just to spend some time with you.”

 

Yumi laid on her bed, stared up at the glow-in-the-dark stars she’d recently tacked to her ceiling and listened to the argument downstairs.

 

“Have you seen her lately?  The rings around her eyes are so dark-”

 

“I thought that was how she was wearing her make-up these days,” her father protested.  Her mother made a shrill huffing noise of anger and Yumi curled on her side.  She felt for her pulse, counted heartbeats and breaths and willed herself to fall asleep.

 

“You never notice anything!  She is up half the night and wakes early to eat with you.  Something is wrong with her!”

 

“It’s a phase, Akiko.  I was a night owl when I was younger.”

 

“I’m just saying-”

 

“I know what you’re saying!”

 

Her phone buzzed as she drifted on the edge of sleep.  Her eyes snapped open and she checked the new text.

 

Showtime.  Swrs n 10. – U

 

She groaned and rolled out of bed.

 

. . … . .

 

She woke with a gasp, her heart pounded in her chest.  Her phone had fallen to the floor in the middle of the night and she groped blindly for it, checked for missed calls, missed texts.  Nothing. 

 

She smiled as she sunk back into sleep.

 

. . … . .

 

“I’ve missed you,” her father stated late one Saturday morning.  Yumi looked up from the bowl of cereal she was pouring herself.  The clock read 10:02 over his left shoulder.  “Breakfast has been lonely without you,” he added.

 

“Oh, yeah.  I’m sorry, I’ve just…”

 

“It’s fine.”  He cupped her cheeks in his hands and studied her face intently.  “You’re fine, aren’t you?”

 

“Of course I am, Dad,” she muttered.  She grabbed her bowl and a spoon and escaped his searching eyes.  “I miss our breakfasts too,” she said as she sat down.  And she did, really.  It felt nice to tell the truth for once.  She looked up to see him settling down in his seat, a cup of tea and a piece of toast in front of him.

 

“Maybe we can do brunch instead?” he asked.

 

She smiled at him.  “I’d like that,” she agreed.

Chapter 9: Advances

Notes:

Warnings: Cursing.

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: Hey everyone, so the wait was due to me having a fit and trying to figure out what kind of ending I wanted for this. Because believe me, it was a toss-up, literally. I went back and forth on this one for a long time.

8. She laughed off Sissi's advances on Ulrich (until she heard him call her for Eli the first time).

 

They’re eating lunch in the cafeteria when Sissi sidled up to the table.  She pressed her hip against the table and smiled down at Ulrich.  For his part, Ulrich looked resigned.  Yumi quirked an eyebrow in question, but Sissi ignored her.  She leaned over, elbow on the table and chin propped on her folded hand.

 

“Sissi,” Ulrich sighed.  He stabbed a white asparagus with his fork and looked somewhere around her left ear.

 

“Ulrich-dear, did you hear about the new film at the cinema?” she asked.  Yumi stared at the back of Sissi’s head, imagined the shark-like grin stretching the younger girl’s face.

 

“I’m not interested, Sissi,” he said quietly.

 

“But Ulrich-dear,” Sissi whined.

 

“Get lost, Sissi.  Can’t you see your interfering with our appetites?” Odd exclaimed.  Jeremie gave a pained sound next to her and Yumi hid a smile in her glass. 

 

Sissi huffed and strode away from the table, shoes clacking against the tiled floor.  Herve and Nicholas fell into step with her at the door.  “Think she’ll learn to take a hint?” Yumi asked, twirling a strand of spaghetti around her fork.

 

“Doubt it,” Odd chirped.  He elbowed Ulrich and grinned at his frown.  “She’d need brains for that, huh?” he laughed.

 

Ulrich chuckled and shook his head.  “She’s stubborn,” he said, “but, she’ll figure it out eventually.”

 

. . … . .

 

“No, no I haven’t seen Eli in a while.  I told you…we aren’t really talking.  No.  I don’t.  I have to go.  I’ll  get on tonight.  Bye.”  Yumi looked up from where she was flipping through Ulrich’s history textbook, eyebrow raised curiously.  “Sorry,” Ulrich mumbled, taking a seat next to her. 

 

She wanted to ask who he was talking to.  She wanted to ask who Eli was.  Instead she flipped to the chapter on Napoleon.  “Ready to study?” she asked.

. . … . .

 

They were seated on the bleachers around the indoor gym, waiting for the start-of-term assembly to start.  Yumi was on her third coffee of the morning and still felt groggy.  She winced when Sissi’s voice shrilled over the crowd of mumbled voices.

 

“Ulrich-dear!” Sissi called.  She squeezed herself onto the bench next to him, elbowing Yumi out of the way.  It was a testament to her sleep deprivation that she didn’t retaliate and only glowered at the back of the girl’s head. 

 

“Sissi,” Ulrich replied.  He hunched forward, elbows on his knees.  “You almost knocked over Yumi’s coffee.”

 

Sissi twisted, spared a disinterested look for Yumi and her mug of coffee.  “Sorry,” she said, voice flat.  Before Yumi could respond Sissi had whipped back around, strands of black hair hitting Yumi in the face.  She grumbled under her breath and sipped at her coffee.  “So, you know how Leon assigned us that project where we pick a period in history and present on it?” she asked.

 

“…Yeah,” Ulrich replied tentatively.

 

“Well, I was thinking we should work together.  Now, before you say anything, think about it.  We could do the Revolution; I know you’ve always been interested in that.  Or we could do it on Coubertin-”

 

“Sissi,” Ulrich sighed. 

 

She patted his hand and stood.  “Just think about it, you know it makes sense,” she said.  She tossed her hair over her shoulder and disappeared up the bleachers.

 

“I sincerely hope you have better offers than that,” Yumi mumbled.  She saw Ulrich’s lips quirk into a smile and she smiled into her coffee.

 

. . … . .

 

“Sissi making a move again?” Odd asked.

 

Yumi rolled her eyes and studied her phone.  “That obvious?” she asked.  She leaned against the brick wall and resisted looking across the courtyard at the pair in question. 

 

“You two shouldn’t spy on them,” Jeremie said.  He frowned up at them from his spot on the ground, laptop open and balanced on his knees.  “Let her humiliate herself in peace.”  He pushed his glasses back up to their proper place.

 

“You take all the fun out of making fun of Sissi, Einstein,” Odd whined.

 

“I just think you shouldn’t have to stoop to her level for entertainment, Odd.”

 

“Whatever,” Yumi replied.  She glanced up to see Sissi’s fingers curled around Ulrich’s bicep and grit her teeth.  “If Sissi wants to make a fool of herself, so be it,” she added.  “It’s not like Ulrich’s interested in her anyway.”

 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Odd said idly.  He played with a rubber band around his wrist, snapping it every other word.  “Objectively speaking, she is kind of hot.”  Yumi gaped at him.  “If you can ignore the voice and personality.”

 

“And let’s not forget that before we found you-know-what and she betrayed us, they were close,” Jeremie added.  He frowned as Yumi made a disgruntled noise in the back of her throat.  “I thought we agreed he wasn’t going to let her in again, if she figures it out and betrays us again-”

 

“Cool it, Einstein,” Odd placated.  “I don’t think Nature Boy over there has eyes for Sissi anymore.”  He smirked and settled against the wall next to Yumi.

 

“Why’s that?” Yumi asked.  Her eyes tracked Ulrich’s movements, watched the way he reached up and (gently) removed Sissi’s hand from his arm, watched him lean in to say something in her ear.  He looked up, caught Yumi’s eye and flushed. 

 

“Just a hunch,” Odd sing-songed.  “Yo, Ulrich, get a move on!  We’re supposed to be seeing that movie before you get your ass kicked by Yumi!” he hollered across the courtyard.  Ulrich nodded, shoved his hands in his trouser pockets, and ambled over to them.  “See?” Odd whispered.  “Not even a backwards glance for her.  He’s onto better things now.”

 

Yumi felt her stomach twist and vowed not to drink so much coffee in the future.

 

//

 

“So…” Yumi began hesitantly. 

 

“So?” Ulrich parroted back to her.  He looked up from where he was stretched out on the grass before rolling over onto his stomach in order to face her. 

 

Yumi took a gulp of water from the bottle in her hand and collected her thoughts.  “You and Sissi,” she began.  She paused as Ulrich’s face shuttered.  He didn’t turn away though, so she forged ahead.  “You two…dated?  Before Lyoko, I mean?”

 

Ulrich shrugged and rolled onto his back, stared up at the multihued sky and was silent for a long time.  “Yeah,” he said finally.  “We were close.”

 

“I just, I can’t imagine it,” she said casually.  “She’s persistent and a little flaky, not really the sharpest tool in the shed, you know?”

 

Ulrich shrugged again.  “So it appears,” he agreed.  “It was complicated,” he added.  He tilted his head back to eye her in the growing dark.  “Why are you asking?”

 

“Sissi seems interested in getting back to that and Jeremie’s worried, because of before, and I was just wondering-”

 

“If I was sneaking around with Sissi behind everyone’s back?” he asked, eyebrow arched.

 

“What?  No!”  She flushed and stuttered.  “No.  I was wondering if you would, go back to her.  After Lyoko is shut down…If you still liked her?”

 

Again he was silent for a long while.  Yumi bided her time, listened to the crickets and cicadas, packed up her empty water bottle and stretched her sore muscles.  An owl hooted and the shadows stretched.  “No,” he said finally, when she was nearly ready to give up on him answering.  “No, I don’t really like Sissi all that much.”  There was something to the way he said it that spoke of something else, but she couldn’t decipher it and let it go for the moment.

 

“Well, good,” she said as she got to her feet.  Ulrich stood as well, gave her a curious look.  “I think you could do much better,” she admitted.

 

. . … . .

 

Jeremie made a disgruntled noise and shot Odd an annoyed look.  The blonde ignored him and continued to spin in circles on Jeremie’s desk chair.  “Has anyone reached him?” he asked.

 

Yumi hung up her phone as Ulrich’s voicemail clicked on.  “He’s still not answering,” she replied, tried to keep the worry out of her voice.  He was probably making up a test or at practice or –

 

“Well, let’s begin then,” Jeremie grumbled.  “I think I’ve figured out a way to materialize Aelita and shut down X.A.N.A. without completely obliterating-”

 

The door opened and Ulrich stumbled in looking embarrassed.  “Sorry,” he apologized. 

 

Odd looked up, mouth open, but Jeremie spoke first.  “Glad you could join us,” he deadpanned.  Ulrich shrugged and took a seat on the floor next to Yumi.

 

“Lost track of time,” he replied. 

 

“Practice?” Yumi asked.  She nudged his shoulder and he smiled but shook his head.

 

“No, I was with a friend.  What’d I miss?”

 

Jeremie looked conflicted about whether he wanted to lecture or chastise, before ultimately launching into his explanation of Lyoko’s structural whatever.  Yumi knew she should pay attention but she was distracted by the silent conversation happening behind Jeremie’s laptop screen.  Odd was making faces and Ulrich’s eyes were narrowing, eyebrows furrowing more than usual.

 

She wondered what she was missing.

 

. . … . .

 

She rounded the corner between the science wing and the cafeteria to find Ulrich and Sissi mid-argument.  They were standing in a small alcove off the science building, alone.  Ulrich’s arms were crossed over his chest, expression neutral-bordering-on-bored as he leaned against the rough brick.  Sissi had her hands in the air, waving them around irritably. 

 

“You’re really screwed up, you know?” Sissi demanded.  One of her hands jabbed him in the chest and Yumi saw Ulrich stiffen.  “I don’t know if it’s you or your friends or your father-”

 

“Elisabeth,” Ulrich ground out, voice carried on the wind.  Yumi was surprised; she hadn’t heard anyone call Sissi by her first name aside from the headmaster.

 

“No, no.  You don’t get to be angry.  You’re the one who kissed me, Ulrich-dear,” and Sissi’s voice rose to a near-shriek.  Yumi froze.  She wasn’t spying, she was surprised.  Ulrich shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets, rocked back on his heels.  “Now you’re blowing me off?  What the hell is wrong with you?  You treat me like I’m your dirty little secret and trust me, Ulrich-dear, I am so not.”

 

“Nothing.  I…”  His eyes lifted and Yumi knew the exact moment he spotted her.  His shoulders tensed and his face turned neutral again.  “I’ve got to go, Sissi.”

 

He pushed off the wall but Sissi grabbed his arm, pulled him back and said something too quiet for Yumi to hear.  Ulrich hesitated, met her eyes and shook his head.  Sissi’s face paled even as her cheeks reddened and she raised a hand to slap him.  Yumi wondered if she should intervene, boys generally didn’t seem to appreciate girls coming to their rescue but…

 

Ulrich caught Sissi’s wrist, leaned in and whispered something.  He released her and walked over to Yumi, gave her a small smile.  “Hey, were you looking for me?”

 

“Uh, no, not really,” she replied, cheeks red.  “Just taking a short cut to the cafeteria.  I had a question for Mr. Gregory,” she added.  Over Ulrich’s shoulder she saw Sissi flounce away toward the cafeteria.  “You kissed her?” she asked before she could stop herself.

 

Ulrich shrugged and didn’t meet her eyes.  They fell into step toward the cafeteria.  “Yeah.  Odd suggested it,” he said after a few steps.  “During the attack yesterday,” he added.

 

“Oh,” she replied.  She wasn’t sure what else she was supposed to say.  “So, think it’ll be Brussels sprouts again today?”

 

“God, I hope not,” Ulrich laughed, tension leaving his shoulders.

 

. . … . .

 

“Eli, Eli, I can’t.  Yes, alright.  Alright,” Ulrich sighed.  He rubbed at his temples and Yumi was not eavesdropping.  She wasn’t.  “Tomorrow?  Okay.  Yeah.  See you.”

 

Yumi kept her eyes firmly affixed to her script and didn’t look up as Ulrich set his phone down on the ground between them.  “Who’s Eli?” Aelita questioned.  She looked up from where she was highlighting her biology book.

 

“Yeah, Ulrich, who is Eli?” Odd replied, voice dripping with something Yumi couldn’t place.  She looked up and caught Jeremie’s puzzled expression. 

 

Ulrich kicked Odd’s shin and shrugged.  His head was bent so she couldn’t see his face, but his neck was tinged a faint red.  “Just a friend, don’t worry about it.”

 

“You haven’t told her about-?”

 

“No.  Is that all you think about?” Ulrich grumbled. 

 

She’d heard Eli mentioned before but this was the first time she really wondered if she should be worried.  Ulrich’s knee pressed against hers and she pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind.

 

. . … . .

 

“It won’t last,” Sissi said; her voice thick with finality and self-righteous certainty.  She was looking at Yumi when she said it though and Yumi felt something in her stomach twist.  Something cold and hard and suddenly she wasn’t that hungry for breakfast anymore.  “We both know it won’t.”  Her eyes were on Ulrich this time and that cold, hard thing in her stomach coiled tighter at the look Ulrich shared with her.  “Come on, I hear they’re announcing the new play today and I want to see which lead I’ll be playing.”

 

. . … . .

 

It was Saturday afternoon and she was on her way to visit Ulrich.  She hadn’t let him know, because she hadn’t really anticipated stopping by but she’d gone to that little bakery and they’d had those chocolate scones he liked, and well, stopping by seemed logical.  Besides, she was his girlfriend and he genuinely seemed happy to see her when she popped in unexpectedly.  And she was bringing chocolate scones. 

 

Yumi smiled as she walked down the familiar hallway.  She was somewhat distracted, thinking about what to make Hiroki for dinner tonight and whether she’d remembered to set the DVR, when she reached the door.  It was slightly ajar and she could hear voices on the other side.  The open door didn’t really surprise her, lately Jim was conducting surprise room inspections to make sure boys and girls weren’t fraternizing behind closed doors.  It probably just meant Aelita was in there again.

 

She pushed the door open a little wider and froze.

 

Odd was on his bed, tossing wadded up paper balls for Kiwi to fetch (how had Jim not discovered the dog yet anyway?).  He was laughing and had his sketchpad propped up on his knees.  “Are you serious?” he asked not noticing the pushed open door.

 

Across the room Ulrich was leaning back against the wall.  He was grinning and relaxed and that surprised Yumi almost as much as seeing Sissi lying on her stomach next to him, hand dangling off the bed to retrieve the paper balls Kiwi fetched.  “Oh, I’m very serious,” she replied, voice breathless with laughter. 

 

“Really?” Odd questioned.  His pencil scratched against the pad.

 

“Oh yes.  He was up that tree for three hours.  My grandmother wanted to call his parents but he refused and cried and threatened to jump and break his arm purposefully.  Daddy had to get a ladder when he got home and coax him down with a bag of chocolates.”  Odd chortled and Sissi laughed, tossed the paper ball for Kiwi again.

 

“God,” Ulrich laughed.  “I can’t believe you remember that.”

 

“I have an excellent memory,” she retorted. 

 

“Obviously,” Odd snorted.  Ulrich hurled a pillow at the blonde.  “So what else have you got?”

 

“Mm,” Sissi said.  She shifted and her head was on Ulrich’s thigh and Yumi barely managed to contain her growl.  Her hand clenched on the scone bag.  “Let’s see,” she mused.

 

Yumi reached for the door again, intent on making her presence known and demanding to know just what the Hell was going on.  Because seriously, her boyfriend should not have Sissi Delmas’s head on his thigh.  And Odd, who hated her even more than she did, should not be laughing and-and-and conversing with her.

 

Her fingertips had just met the door when Ulrich groaned.

 

“Eli,” he sighed.  “Haven’t you embarrassed me enough today?”

 

Yumi didn’t freeze this time, instead she turned and ran.  She tossed the scones in the trash by the stairs on her way out.

 

//

 

“Hey,” Ulrich greeted when she answered her phone that night.  “How are you, haven’t heard from you all day.  You okay?”

 

Yumi relaxed on her bed and stared at her glowing ceiling.  She fought the knots in her stomach and the tightness of her throat.  “Yeah, fine.  How was your day?” she asked. 

 

“Okay,” he sighed.  He sounded tired and she closed her eyes.  But the image of Sissi, of Sissi-who-he-called-Eli, laughing with her head on his thigh kept replaying in her mind and she focused on the stars above her again.  “I just hung out in my room, did some homework and goofed around.” 

 

He sounded so sincere and her stomach knotted tighter, her throat became more constricted.  If she hadn’t known, if she hadn’t seen, then she’d…she’d believe him.  What else had he just not told her?

 

“How was your day?” he asked.

 

“Oh, it was okay.  I went to Belle’s and got some pastries then came home to do homework and watch Hiroki since my parents had some function to go to.”

 

She had come home and run a hot bath, drowned her sorrows in too-hot water and lavender-scented bubble bath.  He didn’t need to know that.  Her mother had given her a look but had been distracted getting ready.  She’d watched Disney movies and ate over-sized ice cream sundaes with Hiroki until they’d both felt sick.

 

“They have those chocolate scones?”

 

“No,” she said.  They were silent for a while and Yumi closed her eyes, saw that same damn scene replay behind her eyelids.  Her voice was thin when she next spoke.  “Ulrich?”  He made a sound of acknowledgment.  “Ulrich, who is Eli?”

 

His voice was careful when he answered.  “Why do you ask?”

 

“I’ve heard…I’ve heard you mention her before.  Who is she?”

 

“Just an old friend, Yumi.  Someone I used to know a long time ago.”  Her stomach twisted and she swallowed hard.

 

“An old girlfriend?” she pressed.

 

Ulrich was silent.  She could hear Odd’s voice in the background.  “No,” he said.  “She’s just an old friend I grew up with.”  There was a crash and Ulrich groaned.  “I’ve got to go, talk to you later?”

 

“Yeah,” she murmured.

 

“Goodnight, love you,” he said.

 

Her throat was tight and thick with unsaid things.  “Love you too.  ‘Night,” she replied. 

 

She hung up and closed her eyes, saw the scene again.  But she saw more this time, saw the looks and the touches, the distraction kisses Ulrich had used on Sissi in the past, heard Sissi’s warning It won’t last and felt the bile rise up her throat. 

 

It was the first time she ever felt that Sissi was a threat after all.

Chapter 10: Immature

Notes:

Warnings: Some cursing.

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: Hey, everyone. Again, I'm sorry for the delay. This should have been up at least two weeks ago but I got distracted. The semester will be over soon though, so hopefully I will have a regular-ish updating schedule once more.

9. She looked forward to having Aelita join their group (until she did and she realized Aelita wasn't as mature as she had anticipated).

 

The first time Aelita…arrived…they were faced with the unexpected issue of just what to do with her.  Not that they weren’t happy about it, hell, Odd was ready to break out the confetti.  “So…this is Earth?” Aelita questioned, glancing around the factory. 

 

“We did it guys, we really did it,” Jeremie beamed.  Yumi watched, smiling, as Jeremie pulled Aelita into a hug before backing away, face red.

 

“What now?” Ulrich questioned. 

 

“What d’you mean?” Odd asked.  He paused mid-fist-pump. 

 

“Well…where is she going to stay?  She can’t room with us without Jim having a fit and the only girls with singles are Claire-”

 

“No, she hates me,” Odd interrupted. 

 

“Tania?” Ulrich suggested.

 

“Didn’t her roommate disappear last semester?” Yumi questioned.  She took her turn in hugging Aelita and gave her a reassuring smile.

 

“I could stay at the factory,” Aelita stated.  “Technically it’s been my home for a while now.”

 

“No, no, there has to be someone…” Jeremie said.  His brow furrowed as he thought it over.

 

“I’m coming up blank except for…” Odd trailed off, eyes meeting Ulrich’s. 

 

Ulrich nodded.  “She might go for it,” he agreed.

 

“No,” Jeremie said.  “Not Sissi.”

 

“There has to be a solution,” Yumi stated.

 

//

 

An hour later Yumi stood in her living room.  Her mother rolled and unrolled the magazine in her hand.  Her father looked up from the book he was reading.  They weren’t looking at her though; they were staring at Aelita as she wandered the room, idly touching things that caught her attention.  “This is Aelita, Aelita Stones,” Yumi told her parents.  Aelita paused in her study of the framed photos on the mantel and smiled brightly.  “She’s Odd’s cousin.”

 

“Odd…” her mother said, lips pursed.

 

Her father frowned.  “Is he the nice blonde boy or the nutty blonde one?”

 

“Takeyo!”  Her mother hissed and swatted him with the magazine she had been reading.  “Hello, Aelita.”

 

“Hello,” Aelita replied.  Her cheeks were tinted pink, a shade lighter than the hair her father kept eyeing. 

 

“Aelita could use a place to stay.  She was admitted to Kadic late and there was a mix-up with her room and if she doesn’t have somewhere to stay she’ll have to go home.”  Yumi paused.  “To Odd’s family and no one deserves that, right, Dad?”  Her father snorted while her mother’s eyes narrowed.  “Just until the school figures something else out.  Please?”

 

Her parents exchanged a look.  “Of course she can stay here, Yumi.  Aelita, do you like sushi?”

 

“I wouldn’t know,” Aelita replied, beaming.  “I’ve never had it before.”

 

//

 

“Yumi,” Aelita questioned.  She was lying on her back, eyes fixed on the glowing stars above them.  “Thank you, for taking me in.  And for…for rescuing me.”

 

“Of course,” Yumi yawned.  She turned onto her side and snuggled deeper into her pillow.  “We’re a team, and you’re one of us, now.”  She yawned again.  “Anyway…it’s good not being the, the only girl anymore.”

 

She fell asleep to the sound of Aelita’s quiet laughter.

 

. . … . .

 

The next time was better, Yumi decided.  They were better prepared for it.  Aelita went to school and the only thing they had to pretend was that she was somehow involved in Odd’s crazy family.  Aelita was still top of the class, still got better grades than Jeremie, and had taken over Ulrich’s tutoring much to everyone’s relief. 

 

But best of all, because Aelita stayed at the school now, that meant Yumi could too, sometimes, without her parents getting worried.

 

“So what do you want to do tonight?” Yumi asked.  She was lying across Aelita’s bed, head tilted back to watch as the girl typed on the pink laptop she had gotten somehow. 

 

“Odd mentioned a monster movie marathon in his room, it sounds fun.  Popped corn and M&Ms have been promised.”  Aelita flipped a few pages in the textbook, typed a couple words, and highlighted a section.

 

Yumi made a face.  “Don’t we see enough monsters?” she asked.  “Like on a daily basis?  I’m sick of monsters.”

 

Aelita sighed and turned to her.  She had a pen behind her ear and was chewing on the cap of her highlighter.  “Odd calls it research,” Aelita answered, “on different ways to dismember and disable attacks.”  She shrugged.  “It sounds fun,” she repeated.  Yumi scrunched her nose and let her eyes drift to the frog clock on the desk.  “Ulrich will be there.”

 

“Oh, all right,” she sighed.

 

. . … . .

 

Yumi groaned as she sat down at the lunch table and poked at the stew with her spoon.  Jeremie gave her a pained look as well.  “Odd?” Yumi questioned.  She had to shout to be heard over the noise blaring from the overhead speakers.

 

“Who else?” Jeremie growled.  He rubbed at his eyebrows and then his eyes narrowed at something over Yumi’s shoulder.  She twisted to see Ulrich set his tray down next to her.  “It’s funny,” Jeremie said waspishly, “how clever you can be when it isn’t related to a textbook.”  He fumbled with a bottle of aspirin and Yumi held a hand out wordlessly. 

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ulrich replied.  He poked at the potatoes on his tray.  Yumi smiled as Jeremie deposited two of the white pills in her hand.  She downed them dry.

 

“Aelita told me that Odd told her that you helped him plan this,” Jeremie snapped.  Yumi’s head throbbed enough from the…music…that it took her a few tries to understand what he’d just said.  Jeremie waved his hand in the air to highlight the heavy metal currently pulsing from the speakers.  “You can rewire an electrical system but you’re failing chem-”

 

“Isn’t this awesome?” Aelita asked brightly.  She smiled as she sat down at the table and kissed Jeremie on the cheek.  Jeremie’s mouth fell open, and Yumi wasn’t sure if it was in shock of the kiss or in shock at what she said.  Yumi’s was because of the words, definitely the words, she had just said.  “Odd says I can DJ the sound system after school if it’s still up.  I think this is a little much for lunch but it’s so much better than whatever it was that was playing earlier.”

 

“Super Furry Animals,” Ulrich replied.

 

“What?” Jeremie asked while Aelita looked at him curiously.

 

“The band, it was the Super Furry Animals.”

 

“Oh, how interesting.”  Yumi tried to tune out while they talked gibberish.  She hadn’t expected Aelita to, well, be in league with Odd and his immature tendencies, but here she was, squealing about being able to take over the sound system in a couple of hours.  She studied the other girl, watched the way she smiled and waved her arms around, how she practically vibrated with happiness and excitement. 

 

This wasn’t what she’d expected.

 

“Yumi?”

 

“Huh?”  She looked up to find Aelita’s green eyes watching her curiously.  “What?”

 

“I asked, what would you think of Japanese Electronic after school?  Any favorites?”

 

Yumi shook her head.  “No, and I really don’t want to be caught in league with Odd.  I’m sure Delmas will expel him this time.”

 

Jeremie gave a long suffering sigh.  “If he wasn’t expelled for last April’s Shower Incident then I doubt this will get him more than a detention.”

 

Yumi could only nod in disappointed agreement.

 

. . … . .

 

Yumi was soaking her sore muscles in the bathtub when her mother knocked on the door.  “Yumi, Aelita’s downstairs,” she called. 

 

“I’ll be there in a minute!” she shouted back.  She groaned as she levered herself up into a standing position and grabbed her towel.  Her muscles ached.  That last training session had been rough. 

 

When she got downstairs she heard Aelita’s laughter accompanied with Hiroki talking in a bad accent.  She paused in the doorway to the living room and stared.  The two were sitting hunched on the sofa, controllers in hand and eyes fixed to the screen where some videogame was playing. 

 

“Take that!” Hiroki roared.  His character swung some kind of axe at what looked like mechanical parrots.  Suddenly a red box popped up and Hiroki’s pirate (was it a pirate?) turned into a…chicken?  Yumi was confused.  “Aw, man!”

 

“Haha!  You’re a chicken.  I get to get the power-up!” Aelita crowed.  On screen Aelita’s girl-princess-fairy skipped toward a treasure chest. 

 

“No way!” Hiroki exclaimed.  “I’ll peck you to death!”  The chicken proceeded to chase the princess while Aelita hit Hiroki with a throw pillow.  “Cheating, cheating!”

 

“Creative counter-attack,” Aelita threw back.  Yumi cleared her throat and they both looked up with wide smiles.  “Hey, Yumi, do you want to play too?”

 

Hiroki pulled a face.  “Yumi’s a buzzkill.  She doesn’t understand videogames.”  His face screwed up even more.  “She doesn’t believe in fighting or whatever.”

 

“I don’t like fighting fake things,” Yumi corrected.  Hiroki shrugged like it was the same thing, which it wasn’t.  It wasn’t.  Her eyes narrowed but she didn’t say anything else.  It wasn’t his fault that he just didn’t get that she spent so much time fighting digital monsters for real.  It wasn’t a game to her; it couldn’t be a game to her.  She crossed her arms and shifted her stance to relieve the tension stiffening her muscles.  “Sorry for the wait, I lost track of time.”

 

“It’s no problem,” Aelita replied.  She hit the now-a-pirate-again character with a wand and then went off to fight more robot parrots.  “Hiroki’s been keeping me entertained.”

 

“Aelita’s great at videogames.”  The unlike you is unsaid but Yumi can hear it and it sets her teeth on edge.  “It’s like she’s a natural.”

 

Aelita laughed and ruffled his hair after the Level Complete screen popped up.  “I guess I’ve had a lot of practice with digital monsters and worlds,” she said.  She stood.  “I’ll catch you later, okay?  We’ll have a rematch.”

 

“Definitely,” he agreed.  Yumi ignored how happy her brother seemed.

 

“I’m sorry you had to wait with him,” she apologized as they exited the house.  “And play his videogame.  He’s been glued to that game since he got it last week.”

 

Aelita gave her a confused look.  “It was fine, Yumi.  Really.  Odd and Ulrich have been teaching me how to play and that game is fun.  I’ll have to see if Odd has it or if Ulrich will get it.”  It was Yumi’s turn to give Aelita a confused look.  Aelita shrugged, a blush staining her cheeks as she shoved her hands into the orange hoodie she was wearing.  “Your brother’s not that bad, Yumi.”

 

“That’s because you don’t live with him,” she sighed.  She let it go though as they headed toward the cinema. 

 

. . … . .

 

She was crossing the courtyard when the snowball hit her in the middle of her back.  “What the...?  Who did that?” she demanded, spinning around.

 

The second snowball hit her in the face.  Aelita laughed and ducked down behind a bush. 

 

“I can see you!” she called.  She scooped up a handful of snow, packed it down into a ball.  She backed away slowly, crunched the snow loudly beneath her boots.  Aelita stood, ready to fire, and was met with a face full of snow.

 

It devolved from there into cold snow, damp clothes, and laughter. 

 

. . … . .

 

“What is it about Odd?” Yumi asked.  It was late and they were laying side-by-side in Aelita’s too-pink bed, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars Aelita had insisted on putting up.  Yumi silently admitted she found them comforting, familiar.  Aelita gave a questioning hmm and shifted next to her.  “He’s completely immature and reckless and I don’t know how he hasn’t been sent home yet…but you go along with it.  You help him and you enjoy it and…why?”

 

She felt Aelita shrug and then the bed moved as Aelita rolled onto her side.  Yumi twisted so that she was facing the younger girl as well.  “Jeremie’s worried about you,” she added.  The faint light from the moon outside and the fainter light from the fake stars above highlighted the downturn to Aelita’s mouth, the crease between her eyebrows.  “We’re all worried.”

 

“Because of Odd?” Aelita questioned.  Yumi nodded.  Aelita snorted and her eyes rolled.  “You shouldn’t be, neither of you.”  With an hmph she rolled back so that she faced her ceiling.  “I know Odd can be a bit much sometimes but…it’s okay.  He’s okay.  He has fun, and maybe you can’t see it, but he’s just so full of life and passion and sometimes it’s intoxicating.  It’s like he gets it, gets me.”

 

She worried her bottom lip and Yumi touched her shoulder hesitantly.  “We’re here for you, Aelita.  Jeremie, Ulrich, me, we’re all here for you.  We-”

 

“I know,” Aelita interrupted.  “I know.  And I appreciate it.  But Odd…with him I don’t have to be smart or brilliant or anything.”  She shrugged again and Yumi frowned, confused.  She didn’t understand, Aelita was all those things, anyone could see it.  Hell, she got better grades than Jeremie. 

 

“I know I’m not what you expected,” Aelita continued, cutting into Yumi’s musings.  “I’m not what any of you expected, not really.  Jeremie wanted a brainiac and you wanted someone to help rein in the boys and I don’t really know what Ulrich expected…but I’m, I’m me, you know?  I can’t be everything for everyone and with Odd I can buy silly hats or play pranks or dance around in the rain and not be looked at like I’m crazy.  I’m not crazy, Yumi,” she murmured.  “I’m not crazy, I’m just so happy to be here finally and I want to experience everything otherwise it’ll be like there was no point in leaving Lyoko.”

 

Yumi tensed.  She reached out and gripped Aelita’s shoulder tightly until the younger girl turned to face her.  “No one thinks you’re crazy, Aelita.  And there was a point to leaving Lyoko.  You belong here.”

 

Aelita nodded.  “Yeah, I know.  I’m still trying to figure out where though.” 

 

They were silent for a while, listening to the air system kick on and then off.  A door down the hall opened and closed, footsteps retreating toward the bathroom.  The frog clock on Aelita’s desk tick-tocked the passing minutes.  Yumi stared up at the stars on the ceiling and thought over what Aelita had said.  Over what she had assumed herself. 

 

“Aelita?”

 

“Mm?”

 

“Tomorrow do you want to do something?  Anything you want?”

 

She felt Aelita laugh next to her.  “Careful, I may ask to dye our hair weird colors or try on crazy outfits or-”

 

“Or prank the boys?” Yumi asked.  She gave Aelita a small smile.  After a moment Aelita returned it.

 

“Yeah,” she yawned.  “We can do that.  That sounds fun.  Goodnight, Yumi.”

 

It did sound fun, Yumi thought.  “Goodnight, Aelita,” she murmured back.  She twisted, pulled the covers up to her chin and drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 11: Bugs

Summary:

She hated bugs

Notes:

Wow, look at that...it's been uh, seven years since I've posted anything? It's been eating me up, leaving this unfinished, so my Isolation Project is to try and get this all finished. No guarantees, but I'm hoping to be better about it.

10. She hatedbugs.

 

It started when she was four. 

 

She doesn’t remember much about her early, years, but she remembers the Garden Incident, as her parents call it. They were visiting her grandparents at the time and they were going to have lunch outside since the weather was nice. Her cousins Atsuo and Eito were messing around by the old shed while she hung on her mother’s leg and stared at the food being set out hungrily.

 

“Yumi,” her father said. “Let your mother be. Go and play with your cousins.”

 

“Mama,” she whined, reaching for a bowl of something that smelled good. Her mother casually pushed the bowl back farther on the counter so that she couldn’t reach.

 

“She’s fine, Takeyo,” her mother reassured, patted her head idly.

 

“She should be outside, having fun,” her father repeated. He made a shooing motion at her. “She does not get to play with Atsuo and Eito often. You know how my sister hates to travel.”

 

“Mm,” her mother agreed. “Your father’s right, Yumi. You should go and play with your cousins. Go on,” she smiled down at her. “They are being watched?”

 

“My sister is outside. Come on, Yumi.” He took her hand and led her outside. The sun was bright and her aunt was reading under a small patch of shade. “Another one for you, Asa!”

 

“Hello, Yumi. The boys are over there.” She pointed toward the shed and Yumi followed the sound of their voices.

 

“What are you doing out here?” Atsuo asked when he saw her come around the corner of the shed.

 

“Why d’we gotta play with a baby?” Eito whined.

 

“’M not a baby!” she protested. Her cousins exchanged looks and Atsuo stood back, arms crossed as he studied her.

 

“Eito lost our ball in there,” Atsuo stated, pointing to a hole under the shed. “If you can get it, you can play with us.”

 

“What?” Eito whined. “You threw too hard.”

 

Yumi hesitated, peering into the dark hole. “It’s dark,” she said. “What ‘bout monsters?”

 

“Only babies are scared of the dark. Everyone knows monsters don’t exist.”

 

“Baby, baby, Yumi’s a baby,” Eito chanted gleefully. He peered up at his older brother with a grin, trying to get him to join in.

 

“Fine!” Yumi exclaimed. She dropped to her knees and began to crawl forward. The broken wood pressed and caught at her sides. “I don’t fit.”

 

“You will,” Atsuo said. He gave her a push from behind and she yelped as her head hit one of the low pieces of wood. “See the ball? It’s in the corner.”

 

She saw the ball. Carefully, she crawled over to it. She kept her head down and blinked her eyes to get the dirt and tears out of them. Not baby, not baby, she repeated in her head. Sunlight and leaves poked through the lattice work and she could just make out something sitting on top of the ball.

 

Frowning, she rolled it closer and looked at it. It was about the size of her hand and fuzzy. She leaned down to study it. It looked like the toy that her father had got her. She reached out to touch it and pain raced up her arm. She screamed and dropped the ball. Her skin was red and angry looking, itchy splotches stretching over her palm and wrist.

 

“Yumi? Yumi!” her aunt called as she continued to scream.

 

//

 

Buranko mushi. That was what her grandmother had said when Yumi had been brought wailing into the house. Her hand burns and she’s sniffling and hiccupping and can’t catch her breath right. Her mother gets a cold cloth, her father gets the car keys.

 

“What are you doing, Takeyo?” her mother asks. He picks her up from the counter, takes the cloth from her mother.

 

“Do you see the way she’s breathing, Akiko? I want her to see a doctor.”

 

“It was a buranko mushi,” her grandmother states. “Nothing more, the rash will go away.”

 

“She’s been screaming her head off for almost an hour, of course she’s breathing funny,” her mother protests. “Takeyo, really.”

 

Her father doesn’t listen. She’s bundled into the backseat of the car, wet cloth wrapped around her stinging hand. “Come on, Akiko. She will want her mother.” She watches her mother disappear back into the house for a few minutes. Her grandmother comes out, brushes the hair out of her face.

 

“All this fuss for petting a fuzzy caterpillar, eh?” she asks. “You’ll be fine, Yumi.”

 

Yumi dozes on the drive to the hospital. Her breathing returns to normal, but her father still makes her see the doctor. He holds her hand the whole time while her mother apologizes for the overreaction.

 

. . … . .

 

She meets Kaito because of a butterfly.

 

No, really. She and Hina are stretched out on a blanket at the park, flipping through magazines and laughing. Every so often they’ll glance over at the field to watch the boys play sports and Hina will nurge her and point out one that’s tolerable to look at.

 

“Really, Hina,” Yumi laughs, “I think you’ve pointed out half the field by this point.”

 

“Hush, I have not,” Hina responds. She hits Yumi’s shoulder with the magazine and rolls over to watch the boys better. “It’s just a good day, is all.”

 

“Uh huh,” Yumi replies, hiding a smile behind the magazine. Hina nudges her anyway. They’re mostly quiet then, Hina intent on the field and only tickling Yumi every so often when she doesn’t respond straight away. That’s why, she thinks, I wasn’t suspicious at first.

 

The at first refers to the light tickling she feels on her shoulder. She’s crossed her arms and rested her head on them, opting for a doze in the warm sunlight instead of openly ogling the boys like Hina. It feels like Hina’s running her fingers over Yumi’s shoulder.

 

“Stop it,” Yumi mumbles.

 

“Lighten up,” Hina replies, voice distracted. Yumi shrugs and the sensation disappears.

 

It reappears a moment later on her bare arm and she blows out an exasperated breath. “Hina, stop.” Her eyes open and Hina’s giving her a weird look.

 

“There’s nothing wrong with looking,” she says finally and Yumi rolls her eyes. That’s when she feels the tickling again. Only it’s on her ear and Hina’s arms are definitely in her line of vision. “Hold on, there’s a-”

 

Yumi shrieks and leaps to her feet like she’s been scalded. Her hands go to her head; furiously searching for whatever it is that was crawling on her. Hina stares at her, open-mouthed. She notices the laughter after she’s stopped jumping around like a lunatic. Hina’s staring at something over her shoulder and when she turns she sees it’s one of the boys from the field.

 

“I’ve never seen someone scream like that over a butterfly,” the boy says. He has dark eyes and an easy smile. Yumi stands there, blushing. The boy gives a little bow. “Kaito,” he introduces himself.

 

“I’m Hina,” Hina jumps in, brushing her jeans off as she stands. “This spazz is Yumi.”

 

“Hina,” Yumi hisses. She meets Kaito’s eyes and offers him an embarrassed smile. “I just really hate bugs.”

 

“I couldn’t tell,” he replies. “It’s nice to meet you both, I’ll see you around?”

 

“Of course, we come here every weekend,” Hina announces. Kaito grins brightly at that. “We’ll bring extra food next weekend if you’d like.”

 

“That would be great!” he agreed. One of the boys from the field calls his name and he flashes them both another smile. “Well, it’s been nice chatting.” His eyes linger on Yumi and she feels her face redden further. “I’ll see you next weekend.”

 

“Bye!” Hina chirps. She grabs Yumi’s arm as soon as he’s left them. “Oh…em…gee,” she whisper-squeals. “I’ve never been so happy for your weird bug-hatred as now!” Yumi catches him glancing at her as he runs after the ball and seriously, her face can stop imitating a tomato now. “Do you think we should dress up a bit next weekend? Not too much, but you know, enough?”

 

. . … . .

 

Their new house has spiders. A whole infestation of them living in the upstairs bathroom. Yumi finds them while unpacking the towels and screams loud enough that the movers outside come running in.

 

Hiroki rolls his eyes, mutters a disappointed I thought you were getting murdered and sulks back to his room.

 

Her father comes in brandishing a broom because it’s the only semi-weapon they have in the house. The movers stand in the hall and laugh while Yumi shakes and brushes phantom spiders from her hands. Her mother banishes her father and his ineffective broom to the hallway and sprays the whole bathroom with insecticide. Soon they’re all coughing and they have to move downstairs while the spiders asphyxiate.

 

“Great going, Yumi,” Hiroki grumbles. “You’ve probably just caused the extermination of an entire family. What if there’d been babies?”

 

Yumi’s face paled and their father glared at him. “Hiroki, leave your sister alone. Make yourself useful and help your mother move the boxes. Yumi, take a seat.”

 

It took four thorough scrubbings and two weeks before she stepped foot in the upstairs bathroom again.

 

. . … . .

 

The first time she ends up in Lyoko, she does not freak out. It’s a close call, but she holds it together. Afterwards though? Afterwards her hands tremble and she feels nauseated and thankful that she hasn’t eaten anything since breakfast six hours ago.

 

“Wasn’t that amazing?” Odd demands. “It was totally amazing.”

 

“You okay, Yumi?” Ulrich asks.

 

“What was amazing, Odd?” Jeremie questions.

 

“I’m fine, I just…I’m fine,” Yumi repeats. She is not envisioning gigantic virtual wasps flying at her. This is ridiculous, the wasps weren’t even real.

 

Ulrich nudges her shoulder with his, gives her a shy smile that she finds sweet. And maybe her hands are sweating for a different reason now. “I’m not a fan of wasps either,” he admits quietly.

 

//

 

After her fifth trip to Lyoko, she’s better. She’s not great, but improvement is improvement, right? She doesn’t wake up immediately wanting to throw up after being chased by a swarm of virtual insects. Yumi knows her standards may be low, but she’ll take her wins where she can.

 

Ulrich gives her a smile each time though, and yeah, that’s okay too.

 

After her tenth trip, she’s started to actually look forward to combatting the wasps. They aren’t her favorite, they still make her skin crawl, but she can kill them. There’s a kind of sick fascination with watching one of her fans slice through them effortlessly, watching them disappear into the ether. If only real insects could be dealt with so easily.

 

Odd gives an appreciative whistle and gives her a thumbs-up. “Good job, Yumers!” he calls.

 

“Don’t call me that!” she yells back, hand reaching up to catch her fan automatically. She takes aim at the next wasp and lets loose.

 

. . … . .

 

At eighteen she moves to Paris and rents an apartment close to her school. Her parents offer to help her move but she shakes her head and hugs them good bye. This is something she needs to do on her own.

 

“Yeah, but what’ll happen if there’s a spider or ants or, I don’t know, a lady bug or something?” Hiroki snarks. “You’ll flip out with no one there to get rid of it.”

 

“I’ll be fine,” she states. She ruffles Hiroki’s hair and smiles. “I’m okay now.” Hiroki snorts, but settles into the couch with the remote and that’s that.

 

Her apartment is a small studio. It came partially furnished and she brought her clothes and books, breathed in the smell of the city and felt herself relax. She’d missed city life, she decided. At the end of her first week her first challenge appeared. It was a small butterfly, caught in the kitchenette and flying against the window.

 

She remembered the feeling of a butterfly crawling on her skin, the memory of dark eyes and an easy smile. She remembered the feeling of pain in the dim gloom under her grandmother’s shed. She remembered every incident of breathless anxiety when she saw a creepy crawly cross her path. And she remembered the effortless flick of her wrist, the calculated trajectory, the sudden devirtualization of a wasp followed by a shy smile and shoulder bump, a Good job, Yumers echoing in her memory.

 

“Here you go,” she murmured. She used a ladle to flick the window lock open, a mop to push the old window open, watched the butterfly find its way to freedom and sunshine. Just because she hated bugs didn’t mean she had to kill all of them.

Chapter 12: Dread

Summary:

11. Every time they got summoned to Lyoko she dreaded it (no matter how hard she tried she couldn't forget the digital sea).

Notes:

Once again, thank you so much to those of you who have stuck around through the extremely long hiatus! 

 

11. Every time they got summoned to Lyoko she dreaded it (no matter how hard she tried she couldn't forget the digital sea).

She wakes with a scream stuck in her throat. Her chest is heavy, her lungs restricted with breathlessness. It's stupid, she knows it's stupid. She didn't actually drown. She just became…nothing. Her hand scrabbles for her phone, checks the time and eyes the message icon.

No new messages.

She can smell burnt toast and knows her father is awake. She shrugs into a sweatshirt to hide her shivers and pads downstairs toward the kitchen light. She needs to feel alive, she needs to be seen.

. . … . .

After it happened, Jeremie had asked what it was like. She'd sat there in the factory, feeling the boys staring at her. She hadn't realized she'd been shivering until Odd wrapped a jacket around her shoulders. "Yumi?" Ulrich asked quietly. He was knelt in front of her, his whole face screaming concerned in neon letters at her.

"It was just…nothing," she'd responded softly. That was all she could say. There was no pain, no light, no warmth, no cold… One minute she was Yumi Ishiyama, Lyoko warrior and Kadic Academy student. The next she wasn't anything.

Jeremie looked disappointed for a moment before he gives her a small one-armed hug. "I'm glad you're alright," he said. She looked up at him and he meant it, she realized.

"I'm sorry you weren't able to materialize Aelita," she said.

"It's okay, there's always next time. Now we know it can be done, which is progress." She gave him a small smile and avoided Ulrich's concerned eyes, ignored Odd's hand on her back. "You are okay, right?"

"I'm just tired," she said finally.

"Of course," Jeremie stated.

"We should get you home," Ulrich said after a moment. Odd and Ulrich both grabbed one of her arms, helping her to her feet. She didn't understand why it took so much effort to stand on her own.

. . … . .

The thing is, she is fine. Mostly. She should be.

It wasn't painful, it wasn't torture. She didn't linger, she just ceased.

A year later and she still finds herself staring too long into mirrors, eyes haunted and searching.

. . … . .

The first time Jeremie summoned them back to Lyoko after The Event she didn't think about it until she'd already touched down in Lyoko. Ulrich had stared at her, wide eyed from where he'd just taken out a krankrelot.

"Yumi?" he asked, surprised.

"What, thought you'd get to have all the fun?" she asked, grinning. "I know I'm a bit late, but I'm sure I can make up for it." Her words were more self-assured than she felt. Up until now she hadn't even known that she could virtually sweat. "Come on," she ordered.

They fought, it's what they did. They took on Xana's forces and if she kept one eye warily on the drop off, well, that was only smart, only reasonable. They didn't have Jeremie's materialization program anymore. Ulrich kept shooting her glances and she returned them with cheerful smiles, trying to channel Odd's enthusiasm.

Afterwards, she praised herself on making it through the debriefing and out of the factory before she emptied her guts into the river below. She must have had an off sandwich at lunch.

. . … . .

"This is a pleasant surprise," her father says. He gives her a smile as she sits down with her bowl of cereal. "I haven't seen you in a few weeks."

"I'm sorry-"

"It's fine," he interrupts. He hands her the comics from his newspaper and she smiles. "I'm happy you were able to get some sleep." He takes a long sip of his tea. "Something on your mind?"

Her fingers trace the comic characters and she stares at them absently. This is real, this right here. Those are her fingers touching that piece of newsprint, getting drying ink on her skin.

"Yumi," her father says softly. "What is it?"

"I have a test coming up," she says finally. "This afternoon, I don't feel like I've prepared enough."

"I'm sure you have. You are always so good about schoolwork." He gives her a small smile and she gives him one back. "I know…I know I put pressure on you. I only want what is best for you and Hiroki." He pauses, thoughtful. "I don't want you to feel…to feel…" he struggles, trying to find the right word.

"I know you'd be proud of me regardless," she interrupts. Her father gives her a relieved smile. "How's the business world?"

"A travesty," he replies, forlorn as he studies the headlines. "Such a waste."

. . … . .

"Yumi, Yumi did you hear me?" Jeremie questioned. His voice was sharp and tinny over the phone; she imagined it echoing through the factory and swallowed hard. "Yumi?"

"I'm here. I heard you," she replied. "I'm on my way now. Did you call the boys?"

"Odd and Ulrich are on their way," Jeremie replied, sounding relieved. "We'll see you soon."

"Yeah," she agreed. She hung up the phone, walked across the hall to the bathroom, and heaved into the toilet until only bile came up. Rinsing her mouth with mouthwash she studied her reflection, touched her face, her hair, spit into the sink, tugged on her hair and sighed. "Stop freaking out," she told herself.

It had been two years since her visit to nothingness. She needed to get a grip and move on. She laced her shoes and slipped out her window, darting through the rain, jacketless. The cold felt good, the cling of her clothes reminded her she had a body; the shivers made her feel a part of this world.

Entering the factory, Jeremie grinned at her, relieved. "Thank God," he said. "Odd and Ulrich are having a bit of trouble in Lyoko."

Yumi laughed, rolled her eyes. "Of course they are. Let me show them how it's done." She walked steadily toward the scanners, waited for Jeremie's countdown, and just breathed.

. . … . .

Sometimes she dreams that she never left the digital sea. She floats in nothingness. She is nothing. They are one and the same.

She watches her family, curious to see if anything changes sans Yumi. Hiroki becomes bolder, wilder, reckless. He yells and rants and takes up the fighting mantle when her parents set it aside. Her mother sits in her room, sometimes, stares at pictures, runs a hand over her comforter. She doesn't cry, but her eyes glisten. Her father sits at the kitchen table, silent. He eats his toast. He slides the comics across to her empty seat. He says nothing.

She watches from nothing as her friends move on, as Aelita joins them. Not the real Aelita, but the one Yumi used to imagine before she knew all her complexities. The imaginary Aelita joins them and it's like nothing has really changed.

Jeremie and Aelita fall sickeningly in love. They whisper and smile at each other. He holds doors for her and brings her flowers. She blushes to match her hair and keeps her eyes downcast before giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

Odd continues being his usual self. There really isn't much of a change that she can see. She isn't sure if that says something about her or him.

Ulrich…Ulrich goes back to Sissi. There's no Lyoko secret to protect, no reason to keep away now. She's not there to distract him either. She watches him throw an arm around Sissi's shoulders, press a kiss to her temple, her cheek, her mouth. He pulls away from the others, reverts to his pre-Lyoko self. She wonders which version is the real one.

Sometimes she wonders if these are truths. Did she see these in the digital sea before being materialized? Or are these just her own speculations.

She wakes gasping for air each time, chest tight, stumbling her way downstairs to the kitchen light and quiet rustle of newspaper pages.

Chapter 13: Falling

Summary:

12. She tried not to like Will (he was everything she swore she wouldn't fall for) but it was only a matter of time (and they all knew it).

12. She tried not to like Will (he was everything she swore she wouldn't fall for) but it was only a matter of time (and they all knew it).

 

Will’s hands were soft, except for the calluses on his fingertips. She knew because the first time they’d met, he flashed her a smile and brushed the hair out of her face, fingertips lingering against her cheek. “Don’t want it to get in the paint,” he stated, pointing at the banner she was making.

 

“Right,” she replied.

 

He gave her another easy smile. “William Dunbar, new transfer.” He held his hand out and she laughed, shaking it.

 

“Yumi Ishiyama.”

 

“So, Yumi,” he said slowly, elongating his vowels at the same slow pace as the corners of his smile, “what’s fun in town?”

 

Staring at his laughing eyes, his curling mouth, she felt something warm take root in her stomach. “Depends on what you like to do,” she said.

 

“Oh, I’m flexible. What about you?” He raised an eyebrow and Yumi swallowed, smiled.

 

“So am I.”

 

//

 

The thing about Will, she knows, is that he’s trouble. He’s got Odd’s sense of daring; Ulrich’s reserved demeanor; Jeremie’s determination. Ulrich eyes him and frowns, says he doesn’t trust him. She should listen to Ulrich; she should listen to common sense. His eyes are dark like Kaito’s, and what did she learn about dark-eyed boys with easy smiles, really Yumi.

 

But, if Ulrich can hang out with Emily and Sissi then she’s allowed to have outside friends too, isn’t she? Will’s a friend, even if he sees that as a challenge.

 

. . … . .

 

It’s not that she is oblivious of the attention. It’s not as if she’s purposefully leading him on when she knows nothing will come of it. It’s just that it’s nice to be noticed for once.

 

So, she doesn’t say no like she should when William offers to walk her home. She doesn’t tell him that she usually partners with Shannon in lab classes. She laughs at his jokes and enjoys the attention.

 

Shannon nudges her with a bony elbow and nods discreetly across the courtyard. “What are you doing, Yumi?” she asks.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replies. She smiles at where Ulrich, Odd, and Jeremie are sitting on their usual commandeered benches before shifting her smile over to where Will is leaned against the main building walls.

 

“You’re playing with fire,” Shannon replies. She glances between Will’s easy smile and Ulrich’s frown. “This is something Sissi would pull.”

 

“I’m not pulling anything,” Yumi snaps. “It’s harmless, Will knows it isn’t serious.”

 

Shannon sucks in a breath, glances at Will. He’s still watching them, dark eyes focused intently on Yumi. “Are you sure about that, Yumi? Or are you only hoping he does?”

 

“Shannon…”

 

The bell rings and Shannon gives her a long look. “Come on,” she states.

 

//

 

At the time she had brushed off Shannon’s concerns as nothing more than nervousness. Maybe a bit of envy, if she’s honest. Will wasn’t bad looking; he was quiet but had a quick wit about him. He was kicked out of school for being too much of a romantic. He recited poetry for fun. Of course the female population would take notice of him.

 

And she wasn’t blind. She knew there had been something simmering beneath the surface between her and Ulrich for a year now. A quiet back-and-forth, a delicate balance on a tightrope. One false move and they’d combust. She knew Ulrich was interested, but she was too cautious, had been burned once too many times.

 

So, yes, she did flirt with Will while watching Ulrich across the grounds, the cafeteria, the field. She wanted to see his reaction, wanted to gauge how interested he really was. And if Will started reading too much into these allowances, well, she already had enough things to feel guilty for, why not add one more?

 

. . … . .

 

There’re a lot of things she isn’t proud of, when she looks back on them. There are a lot of things she could have, should have done better.

 

Voting no on allowing Will into the gang, well, she isn’t sure where that falls on her list of regrets.

 

On the one hand, she stands firm with her decision. She doesn’t trust him. He’s too outlandish at times, more so than Odd. She remembers poetry and declarations of love, him following her home and trying to discover her secrets. He’s too self-assured, she thinks. Even as he winks at her across the pool, eyes her bathing suit and smiles. Overconfidence leads to mistakes, she reminds herself.

 

She lets him think it was Ulrich who voted no. They had agreed to keep the votes anonymous; she doubts anyone will realize who actually dissented. So she’s surprised when Aelita looks up from where she’s painting her toenails and studies Yumi. Yumi is flipping through a fashion magazine Aelita had laying on the bed.

 

“Why don’t you trust Will?” Aelita questions.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I know you voted no.” She looks up and realizes that Aelita does know. This isn’t just a blind stab in the dark. She sits up slowly, crosses her legs to give herself time to think. “Yumi.”

 

“I don’t think he’d be a good match for the team,” she says finally. “He and Ulrich would fight all the time. He’s too overconfident; he won’t listen about the dangers.”

 

Aelita caps the lime green nail polish and studies Yumi carefully. “Is that the only reason?”

 

She thinks of Will’s fingers brushing hers as he hands her a book in class. The way his eyes seek her out in any gathering. The way he followed her from her house, trying to learn her secrets. “Yes,” she says firmly.

 

Aelita studies her for a few seconds more before nodding. “Alright, then.”

 

. . … . .

 

Ulrich has her pinned. His hands are firm on her wrists, holding them above her head. His knees are pressed tight to her thighs. She breathes hard, winded from her collision with the practice mat. She arches an eyebrow at him, smiles. “What’s brought this on?”

 

“Sometimes I think, no, I know you do it just to annoy me,” he pants above her. She tilts her head back, exposes the line of her throat and smiles when his eyes track the movement. “He was touching you.”

 

“We’re friends, Ulrich,” she replies. She goes lax beneath him, but he doesn’t take the bait. If anything his grip tightens. “Emily touches you.”

 

“Emily doesn’t like me like that,” he protests. She hums, remembering the way Will had brushed her hair out of her face earlier while they’d been talking. Remembers the way Ulrich had looped an arm around Emily’s shoulders yesterday while they were walking.

 

“But you like her,” she states.

 

“As a friend.”

 

“And I like Will like a friend,” she replies. He glares and she sees her opening. Quickly she presses her heels and hands into the mat, arching her back quick enough to dislodge him. She rolls them, presses him into the mat and lets her hair curtain off the rest of the world as she leans over him. “Besides, it’s kind of hot when you get all jealous.”

 

He growls, eyes glinting darkly, and wrenches an arm free from her grasp. She braces for another reversal, but he just tangles his fingers in her hair, pulls her down into a bruising kiss. “God, you’re crazy,” he mutters.

 

She trails her lips over his neck, leaves a mark that’s too high for his usual collars to hide. “Good crazy?” she asks, a hint of teeth against his skin.

 

“Yeah,” he agrees.

 

She smiles, presses her lips to the mark on his neck. Wants him to remember it the next time he has his arm around Emily Leduc’s shoulders. Wants her to realize he’s not up for grabs, even if she doesn’t like him that way. “Good,” she sighs.

 

. . … . .

 

Eight months, Yumi muses, almost exactly.

 

The Kadic Chronicle runs the article on the front page: Kadic’s Cutest Couple Calls Quits. Milly had outdone herself, neatly summarizing the early days of will-they, won’t-they before detailing the eight months of pure bliss, before hypothesizing on the breaking point.

 

Sources close to both Yumi and Ulrich hint at a possible love-pentagon. While no names were given, it hasn’t been exactly secret that both parties were suspicious of the motivations behind several reported friendships. William Dunbar has made his interest in Yumi Ishiyama known since his first day on campus while Ulrich is also known to spend time with both Emily Leduc and Sissi Delmas. Whether these rumors are pure speculation or lend themselves to the truth remains to be seen.

 

Yumi rolls her eyes and stuffs the Chronicle into her bag. She feels eyes on her as she flips open her history book and tries to study. Of course her classmates continue to quietly study her, though no one approaches the small table she commandeered by the non-fiction stacks.

 

It’s not that she doesn’t understand, she does. To outsiders she and Ulrich had been perfect, maybe too perfect. There had been no outside cracks on their facades. The break came unexpectedly. Of course there would be looks and rumors. She just doesn’t understand why a week later they were still newsworthy. Surely Sissi had done something attention-grabbing since then.

 

“If you need a shoulder to cry on, I’ve been told mine’s pretty comfy.” She looks up to see Will smiling at her. “This seat taken?”

 

She raises an eyebrow at him. “You sure you want to risk it? You’ll just be sucked into the rumor mill.”

 

He laughs, ignoring Madame Martin’s pinched face glaring at them, and drops into the chair across from her. “I’m good,” he states. “How ‘bout you?”

 

She smiles, shakes her head. “I don’t need a shoulder to cry on,” she says instead.

 

He grins. “Perfect, then how about a distraction from the gossipers?”

 

“A distraction would be nice.”

 

. . … . .

 

Will’s fingers trail over her skin. They feel like fire to her chilled bones. He follows them with lips and tongue. “You never told me what these were for,” he murmurs.

 

“Hm?” She doesn’t have to, but she still looks at her wrist. He’s cradling it in his too-warm hands, thumb brushing over the dark ink. “Just mistakes.”

 

He’s quiet for a moment, nail scraping skin. “What kind of mistakes?” She pulls at her hand but he keeps his grip. She can feel her wrist bones shift beneath his strong fingers. “Yumi?”

 

“Just mistakes, Will. Let go of me.”

 

He releases her like he’s been burned. She rubs at her wrist, sits up and stares at him. He looks back at her, runs a hand through his hair. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he sighs. He flops down onto her bed and stares at her ceiling. He has the frown on his face that means he’s still focused on something.

 

“It’s okay,” she murmurs. She lets her unmarked hand rest on his chest and feels him stiffen beneath her. “What is it?”

 

“I’m trying, Yumi. I’m really trying, but you still don’t trust me, do you?” he asks.

 

She settles against his side, presses a kiss to his jaw, scrapes her teeth down his neck. “They’re just mistakes, Will,” she sighs. “No one wants to remember mistakes.”

 

He gives a soft, humorless laugh. “Then why make them permanent?”

 

She’s quiet for a while, listens to his heartbeat steady beneath her ear. “Because the ones you don’t want to remember are usually the ones you need to,” she states.

 

He pulls her closer, presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Just tell me, am I going to be inked there?”

 

She tilts her head back, studies the strong line of his jaw. “No,” she says. “No, I don’t think you will.”

 

He breathes out a sigh and rolls them, pins her to the bed. His eyes are sad but his mouth is warm and hungry. Everything about Will is warm, she thinks. She loops her arms around his neck and lets him distract them both.

Chapter 14: Switch

13. Switching bodies with Odd was one of the strangest things she'd ever experienced.

 

“It’s just a glitch,” Jeremie states. He stares at them imploringly from behind his glasses. “I’m sure I’ll have a solution tomorrow morning.”

 

Yumi crosses her arms over her chest and looks up at Jeremie. She shouldn’t have to look up. She refuses to look across at Ulrich and Odd. Because that would be too much. Aelita is seated in the corner, hands wringing the too-long pink sleeves of her jacket. “What are we supposed to do until then?” she demands.

 

Jeremie pushes his glasses up and shifts from one foot to the other. “Act normal?”

 

“Uh, Einstein?” Odd asks. She automatically looks over to the other two and regrets it immediately. It’s too surreal, seeing her body across the room. It’s shifting and frowning in a way that she doesn’t recognize. Does she make those expressions normally? “How’re we supposed to act normal like this?” Her body’s mouth moves, but Odd’s voice comes out.

 

Jeremie shrugs. “I don’t know, it’s just for a night, right? Just go to sleep early.”

 

“Jeremie,” she doesn’t whine, “I live with my parents. How do you think they’ll react to…” She can’t come up with a proper word to describe Odd inhabiting her body. Instead she waves a hand in his direction.

 

Jeremie shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know, Yumi. You guys need to figure that out, I have a long night ahead.”

 

Aelita looks up from where she’s been fidgeting with the sleeves on her sweater. “I’ll help you,” she tells Jeremie. He looks unsure and she places a hand on his shoulder. “Two heads are better than one, right?”

 

“Right,” he replies, voice decisive and smile relieved.

 

“Come on, guys,” Ulrich coaxes. He looks between Yumi and Odd before turning to the exit. “The sooner we leave Jeremie and Aelita alone the sooner he can figure out how to switch you two back.”

 

“Yeah, right,” Odd replies, “as long as they don’t get distracted.”

 

//

 

Kiwi growls at her when she digs through one of Odd’s dresser drawers. She uses a pencil to move his underwear and socks around, closes the drawer and moves on to the next one. Kiwi growls again and she looks at the dog.

 

“Stop it, I’m having a bad enough day without you adding to it,” she tells him. Kiwi stares at her from Odd’s bed, ears twitching. “You know me, Kiwi,” she adds, more soothing this time. She turns back to the drawer, spots the green case Odd had mentioned. It’s half-hidden by a magazine and tangled with his ear phone cord. “Gotcha,” she grins, grabbing it.

 

Kiwi watches as she pockets the case, whines low in his throat. “You and me both,” she tells the dog as she pulls open the door, checks her pocket to make sure she has the room key. “Be good,” she adds.

 

She closes the door and almost runs into a girl with red hair and an angry frown. She looks familiar but she can’t place her name. The girl’s hand connects with her left cheek. “You are despicable, Odd,” the girl states.

 

“What?” Yumi asks, confused.

 

“You don’t think I wouldn’t find out about Claire? Honestly?” She shakes her head and storms away. Yumi rubs her cheek and blinks after her.

 

She’s just finished locking the door when someone else marches up to her. She looks up and it’s another girl. She recognizes this one’s blonde-brown hair though. “Claire?” she asks.

 

“You, Odd Della Robbia, are a sneaky rat,” Claire announces. She punches Yumi in the face before she can react. She reaches up, rubbing her right cheekbone as Claire glares at her. “It’s like you didn’t even expect me to learn about Magali.”

 

“Wait, I--”

 

“Save it,” Claire snaps. She storms off without a backward glance.

 

“Well, that was amusing.” Yumi looks up to see Sissi leaning against the wall down the hall.

 

“What do you want?” Yumi demands.

 

Sissi just shakes her head, smirking. “Come now, you can do better than that,” she replies. She pushes off the wall, sauntering past Yumi toward the stairs. “If you give Ulrich that type of dating advice it really will be only a matter of time before the string bean drops him and he needs a new girlfriend.”

 

“What are you talking about?” Yumi asks.

 

Sissi just laughs, disappearing down the stairs. Yumi glares after her. “This is why I don’t live in the dorms,” she mutters. She starts after Sissi but is stopped when Ulrich appears at the top of the stairway.

 

“Hey,” he calls. “Did you get it?”

 

She checks her pocket, making sure the green case is still in it. “Yeah, I got it.” They make their way down the stairs. “Sissi said something vaguely interesting.” Ulrich makes a hmming sound but doesn’t ask. “Any idea what she means by string bean?”

 

“It’s nothing.” Ulrich pushes open the doors at the front of the dorm. She isn’t certain, but it appears that the back of his neck is flushed. They’re immediately accosted by Milly and her microphone, Tamiya and her video camera. “No comment,” Ulrich informs them. He ushers Yumi away from their barrage of questions and she wonders if the whole world went crazy.

 

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

 

“Why don’t you ask that imbecile, Odd?” he grumbles. She has a feeling it’s going to be a long night.

 

//

 

Chopsticks are harder than they look.

 

She stares at the text and groans. Kiwi is curled next to her, his chin on her thigh. Idly, she scratches behind his ear. What did you do?? she types back.

 

Don’t worry, H covered 4 me/you.

You/me?

Yumi!

Ha!

Get it? ;)

 

Her eye twitches. She looks at Kiwi to tell him just how much of an idiot his owner is, and pauses. Her hand flickers, going translucent. She blinks and it’s back to normal. “It must be the dorm air,” she tells Kiwi. The little dog licks her hand and stares at her with sad eyes. “It makes everyone go crazy.”

 

Kiwi’s tail wags slowly and he lets out a whining yawn. She thinks he agrees with her.

 

//

 

The less said about Odd’s shoes, the better.

 

//

 

She has a younger brother, so it isn’t like she isn’t aware that boys and girls are biologically different. She used to give him baths when he was a toddler! But there’s a difference between bathing your baby brother and bathing your friend’s borrowed body.

 

She debates for a long time on just skipping the shower, but she can’t. Odd had to have used an entire jar of gel in his hair and there’s no way she can sleep like this. Plus, she feels too keyed up, too stressed. A hot shower would help calm her down.

 

Ulrich gives her a doubtful look when she mentions it. “There are shower stalls,” he tells her, finally. “So you won’t have to worry about seeing anyone else. Or them seeing you.” He opens Odd’s dresser drawers, shoulders tense as he digs through Odd’s clothes. “Just don’t talk to anyone.”

 

“Why would I talk to anyone?” she asks. “I just want a shower.”

 

“Okay, good,” he replies. He tosses her a bundle of clothes. She sets them out on the bed. T-shirt, boxers, pajama pants. “Those are clean. Odd’s flip flops should be under his bed,” he adds. She gets on her hands and knees, roots around through the junk under the bed, and finds the flip flops next to Odd’s suitcase. She slides her feet into them. When she looks up Ulrich is in the closet.

 

“What are you--”

 

“Here you go,” he replies. He holds out a shower caddy and folded towel. She takes everything, stands there for a moment. “Third door down, on the left,” Ulrich tells her.

 

“Right, thanks,” she replies.

 

So, now she’s in a shower stall in the boy’s bathroom and she’s still fully dressed. It’s ridiculous. She’d laugh, but she hears a shower running and doesn’t want whoever it is to think that she, that Odd, that they lost their mind? She keeps tripping over the pronouns.

 

She’s not going to spend all night in the shower stall. She rolls her eyes, reminds herself that it’s no different than bathing Hiroki, really. She turns on the hot water and strips quickly, thankful there isn’t a mirror in the stall. She doesn’t even have to look, just a quick wash.

 

It takes three rounds of shampoo-and-conditioner to get all the gel out of Odd’s hair. She sighs in relief when it’s finally washed out, does a quick scrub-down of the rest of her borrowed body. The other difference between bathing her baby brother and her borrowed body, is that Hiroki hasn’t entered the world of puberty yet.

 

Well, so much for a relaxing shower, she thinks.

 

//

 

Ulrich looks up when she reenters the room. He’s sitting on his bed, shirtless, tossing a rubber ball for Kiwi to fetch. Her face is red and he raises his eyebrows. Otherwise, his face is unreadable. “Any issues?”

 

“Nope,” she replies. She sets everything down on Odd’s desk and climbs into bed hastily.

 

“You okay?” Ulrich asks.

 

“Just tired,” she replies. She rolls over, realizes that the sheets are different than when she’d left. “Did you change the bedding.”

 

He shrugs, takes the ball from Kiwi and tosses it again. “Figured you’d want clean sheets,” he says. He looks at her for a moment, until Kiwi yaps, dropping the ball in his lap. He tosses it across the room again and Kiwi scurries after it. “You want to talk about anything?” he asks.

 

“Not much to talk about, Ulrich,” she sighs. She watches him play with the dog he spent so long complaining about. “It’s been a long, weird day.” He nods, scratches Kiwi’s belly before tossing the ball. “What do you and Odd usually do before bed?” she asks.

 

“This,” he replies, shrugging. “Sometimes one of us will take Kiwi for a run, but mostly we just try and tire him out. He gets bored, stuck in here all day.” She nods, watching the little dog running back and forth. “Video games, sometimes. Studying. It depends on the night.”

 

Her phone buzzes and she grabs it off the bedside table. Bras are horrible. Y do girls wear them?

 

Her face heats again. I TOLD you not to take it off!!!!

 

Don’t worry, Y, I didn’t peek

Ur virtue is safe

 

“Yumi?” Ulrich asks, staring at her. “Everything okay?”

 

“Your roommate is dead,” she growls, flinging an arm over her face. Her phone buzzes again and she hesitates before looking at it.

 

Give Kiwi a good night kiss from me!

I’ll leave it up to you on kissing U good night ;)

 

“Dead,” she mutters darkly.

 

//

 

School is a nightmare. Not only is Odd wearing something absolutely horrendous and she honestly doesn’t remember even owning those colors, but her hands keep phasing in and out. Jeremie looks dead on his feet when she finds him, dark circles and pale face. He’s inhaling a coffee and she doesn’t want to ask how many he’s already had. Judging by the way his hands jitter this has to be his fifth or sixth, a number he hasn’t reached since he successfully brought Aelita to Earth.  Aelita keeps yawning into her hand, looking only marginally more awake than Jeremie.

 

“I figured out the coding,” Jeremie yawns. “All we need to do is restart the materialization program from Lyoko and your problem should be over.” He blinks, staring off across the courtyard. “Uh, what is Odd, er, Yumi wearing?” he asks.

 

She groans, slaps a hand to her forehead. “Don’t ask,” she mutters. “Can this day get any worse?”

 

“Sh,” Aelita says, “don’t tempt fate.”

 

//

 

She staggers as she hits the icy ground on Lyoko. She trips over the purple tail and groans. She thought she would’ve been in her own body when they were back on Lyoko. Next to her, Odd curses as he hits the ground. “How do you move in this get-up?” Odd demands.

 

“Like yours is any better,” Yumi complains.

 

“Guys, focus, please?” Ulrich asks. “We have company.”

 

Yumi looks up and sees the krankelots. “Great,” she mutters.

 

It’s not that she didn’t know Odd was a good fighter. He’d proven himself on Lyoko over and over again, but she just hadn’t realized how much skill was needed. She was used to her throwing fans, the weight and precision needed to arc them just right so they’d hit their target and boomerang back to her. She wasn’t used to the way she had to hold her wrist to align the target, the difficulty with holding steady while still dodging.

 

Her arrows go wide, she overbalances and stumbles multiple times, she can’t get used to the tail even though it’s supposed to help with balance, theoretically. And then she starts disappearing in earnest and well, that’s unfortunate. She ducks a krankrelot shot, sees her hands, wrists, forearms have phased out temporarily. She’s reminded of the digital sea. Of being nothing.

 

It feels like the digital sea is calling her back.

 

“Yumi!”

 

She looks up to see Ulrich dodge in front of her, deflecting a krankrelot shot. Her hands are back, she shakes herself, tells herself to focus. Ulrich dodges, triplicates, and the krankrelots are finished. He stares at her and Odd.

 

“I thought Lyoko was supposed to fix it,” he says, confused.

 

Aelita appears at the base of the tower, hurries over to them. “It won’t work. We need to go to Sector Five,” she explains.

 

“Better hurry,” Odd states. He’s looking at where his arm has disappeared, fingertips to shoulder. Yumi stares, watches her body disappearing in front of her eyes. It phases back in and he offers a small smile. “Not sure I want to haunt this place, yeah?”

 

--

 

Yumi wakes in the scanner, heart racing and head throbbing. She feels disoriented, like her stomach should be rolling but it doesn’t. She blinks and rubs at her eyes as the scanner doors open. She can hear the soft sound of voices. All of a sudden Ulrich is standing in front of her, he gives her a relieved smile and offers her a hand.

 

“Hey, Yumi,” he says.

 

“Hey,” she replies. She takes his hand, lets him pull her to her feet. She sees Odd leaning against the scanner next to hers, face pale. “You okay?”

 

“Yeah, just a stomach ache,” he groans. He gives her a shaky smile. “No offense, but I’m glad I’m not you anymore.”

 

She laughs, ignoring the throbbing in her head. “Yeah, me too.”

 

There’s a squeal as the last scanner opens and Aelita flings herself out, wrapping her arms around both she and Odd. She drags Ulrich into the hug as well, against his protests. “It worked, it worked, it worked!” she exclaims. “We have to tell Jeremie, he was so worried. It’s so good to see you both back to normal!”

 

--

 

Yumi wakes up to the familiar sound of her mother trying to drag Hiroki from bed. She shuts her alarm off and claims the bathroom before her brother does, stares at herself in the mirror. She presses her fingers to her face, runs them through her hair.

 

Her father looks at her when she comes downstairs, dressed in black jeans and a black t-shirt. “Not, uh, not feeling, uh, colorful today?” he asks.

 

She frowns. “Let’s forget yesterday happened, yeah?”

 

“So you aren’t in love?” He peers at her over his newspaper and she blinks.

 

“Love? No, why would I be in love?” she demands. She grabs an apple from the fruit bowl and her father sighs in relief.

 

“Just something your brother--”

 

“Hiroki,” she growls.

 

“The important thing is that you aren’t,” her father states firmly.

 

Yumi sighs, making her way to school while plotting the best way to kill her brother while making it look like an accident. She’d been worried about Odd doing something to freak her family out, and okay, his clothing choice probably hadn’t helped any, but Hiroki had no excuse.

 

“Paper?” Tamiya asks sweetly, holding one out as Yumi enters the school grounds. Yumi takes a copy absently, scanning the headlines. “I hope you like it!” Tamiya calls after her.

 

She sees Odd and Ulrich talking by the vending machine and makes her way over toward them. Overall, switching with Odd hadn’t been horrible, she reasons. He’d done pretty well being her and she thinks she was okay pretending to be him. Aside from the colorful clothes and questionable texts, nothing had gone wrong.

 

She flips the page in her hand and freezes. There is a full-on photo spread of her and Ulrich. She blinks, trying to recall when this could have possibly been taken. She does not remember having her head on Ulrich’s shoulder ever. She looks up, sees the boys watching her curiously. She remembers Sissi’s snide comment, Milly and Tamiya’s hounding questions…

 

“Odd!” she yells.

Chapter 15: Hero

14. Hiroki blamed her for breaking up with Ulrich and she didn't have the heart to tell him his hero ended it with her.

 

“Ulrich’s pretty cool, for being one of your friends,” Hiroki informs her.

 

She narrows her eyes at him as they walk home from Kadic. “Oh really?” she asks. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“Just that you usually hang out with dorky people,” he replies easily. He kicks at a rock, dribbling it between his feet. “But Ulrich’s cool. He plays sports and video games.”

 

“Whatever, you spent like ten minutes with him.” She hitches her bag higher on her shoulder and rolls her eyes as he trips on the rock. “Stop that, you’re going to fall and I’m going to get in trouble.”

 

“Ulrich says it’s important to practice.”

 

“Since when do you even care about sports? You’re glued to the television screen and that game box.” They turn into their front walk, making their way to the door.

 

“Yeah, well, I can like two things at once, you know? I’m not lame like some people.”

 

She rolls her eyes again, unlocking the front door. “Whatever, brat.”

 

//

 

“You’ve brainwashed my little brother,” Yumi states irritably. Ulrich looks up at her, surprised, as she sits down next to him in the cafeteria. “All night it’s been Ulrich-this and Ulrich-that. No offense, but I’m getting sick of hearing your name.”

 

Ulrich laughs, shaking his head. “He’s an okay kid,” he replies.

 

“Ugh, he’s a monster. And he has a serious case of hero worship.” She digs into the vegetables on her plate; nodding as Odd and Jeremie take their seats at the table.

 

“Who has hero worship?” Odd questions. He reaches over and snags Ulrich’s strawberry parfait without more than a token protest from Ulrich.

 

“My brother, for Ulrich,” she replies, stabbing one of the cooked carrots. “I was just telling him that all night I heard about how great Ulrich was. No offense.”

 

“None taken,” Ulrich replies easily.

 

“It must run in the family,” Odd says around a mouthful of parfait.

 

Yumi narrows her eyes at the blonde. “I don’t know what you mean.”

 

Odd shrugs, swallowing. “Just, you know. You think Ulrich’s cool too, right?” he asks. “So does the kid. Hence, it must run in the family.”

 

“I don’t. It’s not. It’s just.” Yumi fumbles, not sure how to respond to Odd’s statement. She avoids Ulrich’s curious gaze and lands on Jeremie instead. “Tell him, Jeremie.”

 

Jeremie shrugs, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “There are worse people for your brother to admire, Yumi,” he says. “What if it was Sissi? Or Odd?”

 

Yumi shudders. “Don’t even joke about that,” she groans.

 

“Hey!” Odd protests. “What’s wrong with me?”

 

“Trust me, you’re better as a one-off,” Yumi replies. “I don’t need my little brother emulating you.”

 

Odd crosses his arms, glaring at the table. “I still don’t see what’s wrong with that.”

 

“Well, you do have a tendency to pull pranks,” Jeremie replies, “and not all of them are fun to participate in. Plus, the whole shoe-thing.”

 

“What shoe-thing?” Yumi asks.

 

“Trust me, don’t ask,” Ulrich replies. He nudges Odd and smiles at him. “Hey, one Odd is a good thing, means you’re an individual. I’m sure the kid would admire you if he saw your game scores.”

 

“Hmph,” Odd replies, but he goes back to eating.

 

. . … . .

 

She thinks it’ll fizzle out. Ulrich will do something stupid that Hiroki doesn’t care for, or Hiroki will find someone else to follow around like a puppy. But it doesn’t. If anything it gets worse as Hiroki gets older. He wants to start playing football because Ulrich plays football. He pops up when they’re studying or quietly discussing Lyoko. He wants Ulrich to come by and play more video games with him.

 

“I don’t get why you hang out with Yumi,” she hears him say one afternoon. Ulrich had come over to work on an assignment, claiming Odd was busy editing a music video and blasting the song as he worked, and Hiroki had hovered in the background the entire hour he’d been at the house. It figures that Hiroki would make himself a nuisance as soon as Yumi had gone to the kitchen to get drinks. “She’s lame.”

 

“You really think that?” Ulrich’s voice responds. Yumi pauses in the kitchen, listening to them talk in the living room.

 

“Well, yeah, duh. Have you met her? She used to be cool, but now she always yells and complains.”

 

Ulrich is quiet and she is on her way back into the other room when his voice stops her. “I think you’re judging her too harshly. Yumi’s got a lot on her plate.”

 

“Oh yeah? Like what? All she does is go to school, hang out with you guys, and complain about what I should be doing.”

 

“Yeah,” Ulrich replies. “I guess it would seem that way, huh?” He pauses. “Your sister’s pretty great, but she takes on a lot of responsibility at…school.”

 

She returns to the living room before Hiroki can press. She smiles brightly as she sets the drinks on the coffee table and curls up in the armchair with her literature book. Hiroki is quiet, but she senses him giving her quick, unsubtle looks for the rest of the afternoon.

 

//

 

“You should date Ulrich,” Hiroki announces one night. She’s babysitting while her parents go to her father’s work function and they’re seated on the sofa, watching a horror movie she probably shouldn’t be letting him watch.

 

“What?” she asks, sure that she heard him wrong.

 

He rolls his eyes and kicks her under the blankets. “It would be really cool,” he states. “You’d actually get cool points. Ulrich seems into you and you like him.”

 

“I don’t like Ulrich as anything other than a friend,” she replies, feeling her face heat.

 

“Then why are you blushing? You turn red anytime someone mentions his name.”

 

“I do not!” she protests. Hiroki gives her a level look and she turns back to the movie in time to see one of the teenagers get an axe to the stomach. “I don’t,” she repeats.

 

“Uh huh. Well, I think he likes you. I don’t know why. Oh, cool, look at all that blood! How do you think they make it look so real?” he asks excitedly. “Anyway, he likes you for some reason and he’s cool. He’s teaching me some moves in football, you know?”

 

“I know, you’ve told me four times,” she replies drily.

 

Hiroki ignores her tone. “It’d be good,” he states.

 

“Right,” she replies, rolling her eyes. “Even if I was interested, trust me, I wouldn’t be following the advice of a nine-year-old.”

 

“Fine,” he snaps. “Be stupid, I’m just trying to make you less lame.”

 

. . … . .

 

She does end up dating Ulrich, which makes Hiroki insufferable for weeks once he finds out, courtesy of the Kadic Chronicle.

 

“I told you,” Hiroki singsongs, waving the paper in her face. She snatches it away from him and glares. “You should be thanking me.”

 

“Thanking you? For what?” she demands.

 

“I totally talked you up and told him how much you liked him.” She stares at her little brother, eyes wide. Hiroki grins at her. “What, it wasn’t like you were doing anything about it!”

 

“I am giving you a five second head start,” she tells him.

 

“Don’t be stupid, I helped you,” he retorts.

 

“One…two…”

 

Hiroki seems to realize she’s being serious. He turns, taking off down the sidewalk toward the house. Yumi waits the allotted time before giving chase. They crash through the front door, a tangle of limbs and raised voices. Hiroki howls as she tackles him to the ground.

 

“What is going on?” their mother demands, appearing in the kitchen doorway. “Yumi, get off of your brother.”

 

“Yumi’s being an idiot!” Hiroki exclaims. He dodges the slap she aims for him and hides behind their mother. “Tell her to stop it.”

 

“He-he…” she is so angry she can’t form words. “He told Ulrich I liked him!” she exclaims.

 

“Well, you do,” Hiroki snaps. “You’re the one dating him!”

 

“You’re dating someone?” their mother asks. Yumi flushes, mutters under her breath about getting Hiroki later, and stomps upstairs. “Who is she dating?”

 

“Ulrich Stern!” Hiroki replies enthusiastically. “Isn’t that cool?” She slams her bedroom door on their conversation.

 

//

 

Yumi takes to spending more time at Kadic after she starts dating Ulrich. It’s better than having her little brother staring at them or hanging off of Ulrich’s every word. It was weird. Anytime she mentioned it to Ulrich though, he only laughed and wrapped an arm around her, pressed a kiss to her temple, and told her she was overreacting.

 

“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbles. “You just like being in the spotlight.”

 

He shrugs. “It’s nice to be looked up to,” he replies.

 

They can’t always be at Kadic, clearly. When they hang out at her house, Ulrich is on his best behavior and she does like the way he charms her mother, the respectful way he addresses her father. She even likes the way he actually listens to Hiroki’s ramblings.

 

It’s kind of perfect.

 

. . … . .

 

“I can’t believe you ruined it,” Hiroki complains. Yumi ignores him, pours cereal into her bowl and searches the fridge for milk. “He was actually cool.”

 

“Shut-up, Hiroki,” she snaps. “We’re still friends.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Hiroki mutters. He shovels cereal in his mouth and ignores the frown their mother sends his way. “That’s what they always say on TV. You’re so selfish, Yumi.”

 

“I’m selfish?” she demands, turning to face him. She grasps the milk carton in her hand. “Really?”

 

“Well, yeah, duh,” he replies.

 

“Hiroki,” their mother warns.

 

“You’re the idiot who broke up with the coolest guy in school. Now he won’t play video games with me anymore.”

 

“That’s enough,” their mother announces, arms crossed. “Hiroki, Yumi did--”

 

“No, he’s right,” Yumi replies quickly. She sits down at the table, studying her brother’s crestfallen face. “It’s my fault Ulrich and I broke up.”

 

“Yumi…”

 

“It’s fine,” she replies, forces a cheerful expression onto her face. She nudges Hiroki’s chair with her foot. “If Ulrich’s as cool as you think, I’m sure he’ll still hang out with you. We are still friends.”

 

“Yeah, whatever. I hope it was worth it,” Hiroki grumbles.

 

//

 

“Do me a favor,” Yumi states, sitting down across from Ulrich. He looks up at her in surprise and she looks down at the stack of books she’s set on the table. “Don’t ditch Hiroki, okay? The kid really does look up to you.”

 

“I wasn’t planning to,” he replies, confused. “I thought we were still going to be friends?”

 

She meets his eyes, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Can we?” she asks.

 

He closes the textbook in front of him, frowning. “I hope so. We were always friends, weren’t we?”

 

“Yeah, we were,” she agrees.

 

He reaches for her hand, hesitates and lets his hand settle on his book. “I don’t want it to be weird,” he admits.

 

She gives him a small smile, squeezes his hand gently. “We were never going to work, Ulrich. It’s okay. Just…if Hiroki asks, I broke it off with you, okay?”

 

“But--”

 

“It’s okay,” she says, opening her books. She feels him watching her before he returns his attention to the book in front of him.

 

//

 

Two weeks later, Ulrich misses a game-winning goal and the stands erupt in boos. Yumi sits between Hiroki and Will, watching Ulrich trudge off the field. She wants to go to him, talk to him. She knows he’ll be beating himself up over it. She doesn’t have that right anymore though, does she?

 

Will shakes his head. “Well, that’s unfortunate,” he says. He rests his hand on top of hers where it sits on the bleacher between them. She feels him squeeze it gently, offer her a small smile.

 

Hiroki gives her a disgusted look. “You better not have broken him.”

 

She watches Odd and Aelita jog over toward the gym doors, Jeremie following more slowly. She considers getting up and joining them.

 

“How about we go into town for milkshakes?” Will asks.

 

“Sure, sounds fun, right Hiroki?” she asks brightly. Hiroki sulks the entire walk into town.

 

//

 

Hiroki gives her a betrayed look when the article comes out about her and Will dating. “I get it now,” he says, shoving past her in the courtyard.

 

He doesn’t, but she doesn’t bother correcting him.

 

. . … . .

 

“I don’t get it,” Hiroki states. She looks at him curiously as they walk home from school. “You broke up with Ulrich but you still hang out with him. Isn’t that mean?”

 

“I told you we were friends,” she tells him.

 

“Yeah, but aside from you guys no longer trying to suck each other’s faces off, nothing’s changed. He still comes over and plays video games and you still go to his football games. I don’t get it.”

 

“That’s what being friends means, Hiroki.” She frowns at the back of his head. “And we didn’t try to suck each other’s faces off.”

 

Hiroki turns to give her a look. “Uh huh, right,” he replies. “I’m not stupid, Yumi.”

 

She flushes and walks faster so he has to jog to catch-up. “Whatever,” she mutters.

 

//

 

“You should get back together with Ulrich.”

 

“Hiroki, what?”

 

She looks up from where she’s reading a class novel. Hiroki pauses in his video game and shrugs. “You should. He’s better than Will.”

 

“Will is fine,” she replies. “He’s nice to you.”

 

“Yeah, he’s nice because he wants to get in your pants.”

 

Yumi flushes and throws a pillow at her brother. “You are eleven. You should not be saying things like that!”

 

He shrugs and kicks the pillow to the floor. “Am I wrong?” he challenges. He continues before she can speak. “Ulrich was nice to me because he wanted to be, not because he thought he had to be.”

 

“I’m sure once you and Will spend more time together you’ll like him just as much.”

 

“And then you’ll break up with him, just like you always do,” he replies. “No thanks. At least Ulrich still lets me play video games with him and Odd.”

 

She rolls her eyes and tries to get back into her novel. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“He still hangs out with you. And he asks me how you and Will are doing. I think he still likes you.”

 

She shakes her head. “Ulrich and I are just friends,” she states, voice firm. “Will and I are dating. You’ll understand when you’re older.”

 

He groans and unpauses his game. “That’s the stupidest reason ever.”

 

. . … . .

 

Hiroki hovers just inside her bedroom doorway, dubiously eyeing the stack of boxes that are almost as tall as him. “What’s up, runt?” she asks.

 

“Really, runt still?” he whines. And okay, yeah, he has hit a growth spurt, but he’s still a few inches shorter than her. She can’t let him forget that.

 

She pauses in filling the last box, hands wrapped around the memory book Aelita had given her. “What’s up?” she asks, more gentle.

 

Hiroki shrugs, sidles over and flops onto the bed next to her. “What’s that?”

 

“Aelita made it. It’s a scrapbook.”

 

Hiroki reaches for it. For a moment she wants to pull it away, yell at him and kick him out of her room. But it’s her last night home. It’s their last night like this. She watches as he flips through the pictures, snorting at some of the more ridiculous photos and making stupid comments about the others. He stops at one, in it Yumi has her arms wrapped around him while they sit in the stands watching one of Ulrich’s football games. Hiroki had talked her into dressing up in the Kadic colors especially for it.

 

“That was a fun one,” she says, tousles his hair because she can.

 

“Yeah, Dad almost fainted when he saw you not in black.”

 

She elbows him and he goes back to flipping and mocking and she ignores him, focuses on packing up the rest of her stuff. He falls silent again and she looks over curiously. “What did you find?”

 

He’s stopped on a photo featuring Ulrich, Odd, and Aelita after the massive snowball fight this past winter. Odd’s in the middle of the other two, smile ludicrously bright as he has an arm wrapped around the other two. Aelita is mid-laugh, head thrown back and knit hat falling off. Ulrich is staring at Odd, expression fondly exasperated, with a smile curling his usually solemn face.

 

“Johnny thinks they’re together,” Hiroki says, voice soft.

 

She looks at him, surprised. “Of course they are,” she states.

 

“No, I mean, together-together.”

 

“I know,” she replies. “They’ve been together for a while. It’s part of the reason we never worked out.”

 

Hiroki looks up at her sharply and she knows he’s realized. “Why didn’t you ever say anything? I always thought it was your fault!”

 

“Because you looked up to him, and I didn’t want that to change.” She takes the book from him and smiles down at the photos briefly.

 

“But. But you’re my sister.”

 

“Trust me, I’m aware,” she laughs. She sets the book in the box and punches him lightly in the shoulder. “I’ll always be your sister, even if you were upset with me. I couldn’t let you ruin something you were happy about out of anger.”

 

“But--” he protests.

 

“Stop, you know I’m right. Ulrich and I were still friends, are still friends. You being angry with him wouldn’t have done anything but hurt you.”

 

“I called you names though.”

 

“You always call me names, runt, I’ve learned to ignore them.” He glares at her and she smiles, slings an arm around his shoulders. Her not-so-little brother who is the same height she is when they’re both sitting. She still can’t believe he’s the same age Ulrich and Odd were when they all met. “This doesn’t change anything. Hiroki, it doesn’t change anything, okay?”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, shrugging out of her reach. He looks around her room curiously. “Think Mom and Dad’ll let me have your room once you’re gone tomorrow.”

 

She rolls her eyes. “I’ll miss you too, brat.”

Chapter 16: Funeral

Notes:

I've tried to make it evident which text message goes with who, but if you have any questions, please let me know!

15. Aelita told her of the funeral but she never made it back to Kadic for it (if she were honest, she didn't really try).

 

Yumi’s phone buzzes while she’s sitting in literature. She fishes it out of her pocket quickly and sees Aelita’s name on the screen. She sends it to voicemail and stuffs it back into her pocket without the professor noticing. She can call Aelita back later.

 

//

 

After class she has to hurry to make it to the small patisserie she’s working part-time at. The metro is five minutes behind schedule and she bounces on her toes as she checks her watch. After that it’s a fifteen minute ride to her stop, then a mad dash up the stairs to the street level.

 

Her phone buzzes again as she’s darting across the street and tying her hair back from her face. Her watch says she has two minutes before she’s late. She grabs her phone, missing Aelita’s call by seconds.

 

Hey! At work, talk later?

 

OkY
Call ASAP

 

Yumi frowns, shoves her phone into her back pocket. She wonders what the boys have done now to get on Aelita’s nerves.

 

//

 

Work is busier than usual, she chalks it up to it almost being half-term. By the time she leaves, she’s exhausted from carrying trays of pastries, ringing up sales, and chatting to customers. All she wants to do is eat, take a hot bath and fall face-first into her bed.

 

She drops her bag on the small dining table, hangs her lightweight coat in the tiny hall closet, and pulls her phone out. She can call Aelita back while she’s eating, she decides. She fishes leftover Thai from the back of her refrigerator, sticks it in the microwave to heat up, and calls Aelita.

 

“Yumi!” the other girl exclaims. Yumi blinks, she didn’t even hear it ring. “Oh, Yumi, I’m so glad you called!”

 

Aelita sounds stuffy over the phone. Yumi decides Jeremie must’ve been the one to annoy her this time. “What’s up?” she asks. She grabs her food, hops up onto the counter, and digs in. “Aelita?” The other girl takes a deep breath. Yumi feels her stomach tighten. This isn’t usual Aelita-venting behavior. When the boys annoy her she goes on a tirade, she doesn’t dance around the issue. “Aelita?” she asks again, setting the noodles aside.

 

“Yumi, I…Yes, I’m on the phone with her now. No, not yet. Okay, give me a moment,” Aelita’s voice muffles, most likely a hand over the phone contributing to it, before she’s back. “Principal Delmas died last night.”

 

“What?” Yumi demands.

 

“Sissi found him,” Aelita replies. “She’s with Ulrich or I’m sure he would’ve called to tell you. But it’d be insensitive to do that with her right there, beside him, you know?”

 

Yumi stares at the cherry blossom painting hanging on the living room wall. She can just make it out through the archway if she tilts her head to the left. “How did he die?”

 

“Well…I don’t. They haven’t said, officially. Sissi found him on the ground. Ulrich says it was a heart attack.” Aelita’s voice hitches and Yumi can hear a voice in the background, it sounds like Jeremie’s. “He and Jim did CPR…but it was…it was too late,” Aelita hiccups.

 

“Shit,” Yumi says. “A heart attack?”

 

“Unofficially,” Aelita agrees. “They haven’t said when the funeral is…but you’ll come, won’t you? Yumi?”

 

Yumi swallows past the lump in her throat. “Yeah, I’ll see what I can do, Aelita.”

 

“Okay, okay,” Aelita says. “I’ll let you know.” There’s more murmured conversation in the background. “I have to go, Yumi. We’re taking Sissi into town for dinner. I’ll text you.”

 

“Yeah, okay,” Yumi replies. “Bye, Aelita.”

 

“Bye!”

 

Yumi tosses the remainder of the noodles back into the fridge and draws the hottest bath she can stand.

 

//

 

Hiroki texts her while she’s in the bath: Delmas DIED last night.

 

She frowns, texts back, Are you okay?

 

The reply comes almost immediately: No class!

 

//

 

She hears from Jeremie early the next morning. They’ve always been the early risers of the group, so she isn’t surprised. She keeps her hands wrapped around her warm mug of tea and props her phone between shoulder and ear.

 

“What happened?” she asks, once the niceties are over.

 

“The coroner hasn’t released any information officially yet,” Jeremie replies.

 

“But…?”

 

“But it looks natural, like Aelita said last night.” There’s a heavy pause. “From what Odd’s said, Sissi called Ulrich and Ulrich got Jim. By the time they got there it was too late.”

 

“Why didn’t she call an ambulance?”

 

“Panic?” Jeremie guesses. “Sissi’s a mess, she barely even talks. We all ended up camping in the guy’s room that night.”

 

“Jim let that happen? What about the rules?”

 

“Don’t seem to matter at the moment. She was in their room last night too. Aelita offered for her to stay with her tonight.”

 

Yumi sighs, presses the side of the mug to her forehead, willing her headache to go away. “Okay,” she says. “And it wasn’t…it really was…?”

 

“Yeah,” Jeremie replies, voice quiet. “It wasn’t anything we could have prevented this time.”

 

They fall silent, listening to each other’s breathing over the phone. Finally, Yumi rouses herself enough to ask, “How are you? What’s happening with classes?”

 

Jeremie chuckles a little. It isn’t a happy sound. “Classes have been cancelled for the moment. They brought in a counselor and want everyone to see him at least once. But otherwise, I’m okay.” Another pause. “Delmas was a good guy.”

 

“He was,” she agrees, tongue tripping over the past tense. “He really was.”

 

//

 

Ulrich texts her when she’s walking into work. A told u?

 

Yes, she replies. She pauses, thumb over the keypad. Tell Sissi I’m sorry.

 

Will do
Ttyl

 

//

 

“How are you?” she asks, voice soft.

 

“I’m okay,” Aelita replies. Her voice is quavery over the line though. There’s a soft sniffle. “It’s just…this is the first person that I ever really knew who died. It’s a shock.”

 

“That makes sense,” Yumi replies. “It’s okay to be upset.”

 

“I know, I know. Jeremie and Odd keep telling me it’s okay. It’s just hard, with Sissi and Ulrich there, you know? They knew Principal Delmas as a person.”

 

Yumi frowns. “Ulrich’s upset about Principal Delmas’s death?” she asks. “I mean, of course he is, but…”

 

“Yeah. I mean, he and Delmas got along pretty well, especially this past year. I think he wrote him a recommendation letter for school,” Aelita replies. “He didn’t tell you?”

 

“No,” Yumi replies. “I mean, no, he did. I must’ve just forgotten.”

 

Aelita is quiet for a moment. “They’re having the funeral on Friday,” she says. “Sissi told Ulrich who told Odd who told us. You’ll come, won’t you?”

 

Yumi’s throat feels tight. “I’ll try, Aelita.”

 

//

 

Princess says she told u funeral’s Friday at 2. C u there?

 

//

 

She calls Shannon. Shannon has always been sensible and understanding. She needs that right now. “Did you hear what happened?” she questions.

 

“You mean at Kadic? Yeah, my little sister told me.”

 

“Are you going to the funeral?” Yumi asks.

 

“I can’t,” Shannon says. “I’ve got my last class before break that day. What about you?”

 

Yumi twists her charging cord around her finger. “I have work.”

 

Shannon clucks. “I’m sure they’d let you off for a funeral. Unless…do you not want to go?”

 

“I don’t know,” Yumi murmurs. Her fingers clutch at the cord, there’s a desperation in the movement that she tries to quell. “I don’t know.”

 

Shannon is quiet for a long while. Yumi checks her phone to make sure the connection hasn’t dropped. “That’s okay, you know?” Shannon asks, voice gentle. “It’s okay if you don’t want to go to someone’s funeral. No one would blame you.”

 

I would, she thinks.

 

//

 

Will you be here Friday, Yumi?

 

I don’t know, Ai. Have to see about work still.

 

Okay.
Let me know.
Or Ulrich. Or Jeremie. Or Odd.
You know, one of us.

 

I will. We’ll talk later, okay?

 

//

 

Yumi wakes in the middle of the night, heart pounding. She checks her phone, no messages, no calls, no anything. She pulls her knees up, puts her head between them, and breathes slow and deep. It’s three in the morning, but she won’t be able to go back to sleep.

 

She climbs out of bed, makes toast that she won’t eat. She just finds the smell comforting.

 

When she closes her eyes she remembers the small funeral for Philippe Dumas, the moderate one for Michel Girard. Delmas did not die because of them, she knows this. Both Jeremie and Aelita had said Ulrich had tried to save him. But he was dead anyway.

 

She makes it to the toilet in time to throw-up bile, hears the toast pop as she rinses her mouth out.

 

//

 

“I can’t,” she says, as soon as the phone connects. She’s curled on the tile floor, forehead pressed to the side of the toilet bowl. She can feel the cold permeating her flushed skin. “I can’t.”

 

“Yumi?” Jeremie asks. “Yumi, what’s wrong?”

 

She takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I can’t go back,” she whispers.

 

Jeremie is quiet on the other end of the line. She checks her phone to see if the connection cut out, but the seconds still tick over. It’s four in the morning, earlier than she would normally call. She wonders if she woke him after all.

 

“Yumi,” he says finally, “it’s okay. You don’t have to come.” She hears rustling and then Jeremie’s back. “Do you want to talk about it?”

 

“I just…I can’t handle more death.”

 

“That’s okay, Yumi,” he replies. “Did you talk to Aelita? Ulrich?”

 

She groans softly, presses her forehead harder against the porcelain. “Aelita wants me to come. She won’t understand…Ulrich. I haven’t talked to him, no.”

 

“Okay,” Jeremie says. “They won’t be upset, Aelita will get it. No one wants to go to a funeral, Yumi. And you aren’t here. You have a life outside Kadic, like really outside Kadic. I hardly think all of the past students will come flocking over for the funeral, even if they did like Delmas.”

 

“I don’t want to disappoint them.”

 

“Yumi, the only way you’ll disappoint them is by not taking care of yourself. We’re your friends, we’re on your side.” Jeremie pauses again. “You know this isn’t like…it isn’t the same as what happened before. With the other two. It wasn’t X.A.N.A.’s fault.”

 

“Just, tell me about your day. How are classes?” she asks. “Are you still doing robotics?”

 

Jeremie huffs a sigh. She knows he wants to push, but she also knows he won’t. There’s another long silence while he weighs his choices. Finally he begins speaking and she feels herself relax.

 

//

 

“You look like shit,” Georges informs her when she shows up to work.

 

“Thanks, you always know how to make a girl feel appreciated,” she replies. She checks her reflection in the tinted glass as she pulls on her work apron. He isn’t completely off, she does have dark circles under her eyes, her skin is blotchy and pale.

 

“I mean it,” Georges insists. He reaches for her shoulder as she goes to clock-in. “Are you coming down with something?”

 

“No,” she sighs. She pulls her hair back into a ponytail, effectively shrugging off his hand in the process. “I’m fine, Georges.”

 

“You are not,” he states. “But you can choose to keep your secrets.”

 

She sighs again. She likes Georges. He’s a good co-worker. A couple years older than her, with a dry sense of humor and an enviable ability to handle even the most obnoxious customer with a well-timed joke and wry smile. She doesn’t want to upset him. “It’s just some drama back home,” she says.

 

He looks at her for a moment. “I hope everything works out,” he says finally. He squeezes her shoulder again. “Come on, I’ve already been here hours. You’re slacking.”

 

//

 

She’s curled up, reading a book for class when her phone rings. She checks the name, hesitates, then answers on the last ring. “Hey, Ulrich.”

 

“How are you, Yumi?”

 

She wonders, briefly, if Jeremie had told him of the early morning phone call. “I’m alright, how are you?” She pauses. “How’s Sissi?”

 

“She’s upset,” he says after a moment, surprise evident in his voice. She’s a little affronted. Sure, she never liked the girl, but there’s no reason she shouldn’t be concerned over her. “I’m okay,” he adds. They’re quiet and she wonders when this happened. When did the distance grow between them so that their silences aren’t companionable. And who let it happen? “You aren’t coming tomorrow, are you?”

 

“I can’t,” she murmurs. “I couldn’t get off work.”

 

“Yumi.” He sounds tired and she wishes she could see him. “You don’t have to lie.” She hears a dry laugh on the other end. It’s the scoffing laugh he used to make when Sissi was being clingy or Odd said he had a brilliant idea or Yumi told him she wasn’t jealous of Emily. “I didn’t expect you to come.”

 

“Ulrich…I…”

 

“Are you having nightmares again?” She lets the paperback fall closed in surprise. “You sound tired, Yumi.”

 

“I know it’s different this time, I know that, but…”

 

“But sometimes it’s hard not to blame yourself, isn’t it?”

 

She blinks, surprised. “Aelita said you tried to save him. Ulrich, it isn’t your fault.” He gives another dry, scoffing laugh at that. “It wasn’t,” she insists.

 

“I know, Yumi. I knew as soon as I walked into that room that he was dead, but I had to try. It’s what we always do, isn’t it? Try? Try to pass school, try to save the world, try to shut down X.A.N.A.-”

 

“We did shut down X.A.N.A.,” she snaps. She gets up, pacing her small living room. “X.A.N.A. is gone, has been gone for years. We didn’t try, Ulrich, we succeeded.”

 

“Yeah, but at what cost? When was the last time you had a good night’s sleep? You hear of someone dying and spiral down into blaming yourself when you weren’t even here.” She sits down heavily, blinking back frustrated tears. “Don’t come tomorrow, Yumi.”

 

“You don’t want me there.”

 

“It’s not that, you know that. You’re one of my best friends. But I don’t want you doing this to yourself. I wish Aelita had never told you about it.” She can hear rain falling against the window and she looks at the window, watches the water drip down the panes of glass. “You barely knew Mr. Delmas, you don’t have to feel like you need to be there. Emily isn’t coming back for it either.”

 

“You told Emily?”

 

“Does it matter who told her?” he asks, voice suddenly hard. “My point, Yumi, is that you graduated. You’ve gone on to university. It’s okay to be okay. We’ve earned that.”

 

“I really am sorry, Ulrich.”

 

//

 

How was the service?

 

Good, simple. We missed you.

 

I’m sorry I couldn’t make it. How are you? And the boys?

 

Jeremie’s fine. He said you couldn’t get off work.
Odd’s fine. He liked Delmas, but I don’t think…
He’s fine.
Ulrich seems okay. Hard to tell with him, you know??

 

I know. I talked with him last night.
I think he’ll be okay.
How are you?

 

It was different than I thought it’d be. I hadn’t thought much of funerals, but it was…
It was really sad. I didn’t expect to be able to view the body.

Did you?
View it I mean.

 

Yeah, went up with the boys and Sissi. It was just a body, not Delmas.

 

I’m sorry I wasn’t there.

 

It’s okay, really. The flowers you sent were lovely!
I’m just changing before going to O&U’s. We’re doing a movie night for Sissi. I’ll talk to you later?

 

Yeah, sounds good. Have fun!

 

She closes her phone on Aelita’s smiley emoji and pulls her cardigan tighter around her. She breathes slowly before getting up to draw herself a hot bath. She’s meeting friends for dinner tonight, she’s moving on. It’s okay to move on, she reminds herself. Before she steps into the bath, she reaches for her phone, scrolls through her contacts, types Thank you. If you need to talk, I’m here.

 

Ulrich’s response is almost instantaneous: I know. We’ll be okay, Yu.

 

She sinks into the hot water, feeling her muscles relax. She thinks he’s right. It’ll take time, but they will be okay, all of them, eventually.

Chapter 17: Emily

Summary:

16. She never liked Emily.

Notes:

Useful tip: if you think a renovation project will take two weeks to complete, double that estimate. And then expect it to run over still. Anyway, here is the newest chapter, sorry for the short delay in getting it posted.

16. She never liked Emily.

 

Yumi meets Emily when they are twelve. She arrives at Kadic mid-year and is seated a row away from her. Yumi doesn’t really pay attention to the other girl, to be honest. She was quiet and kept to herself, and just like everyone else in her school, she struggled pronouncing Yumi’s name.

 

Try as she might, she really can’t remember much about Emily that first semester.

 

. . … . .

 

“You know Emily Leduc, right?”

 

Yumi lifts her eyes, studies Ulrich calmly. He’s not exactly avoiding her gaze, but he’s not meeting it either. She frowns and sets her math book aside. “We’re in the same grade,” she says.

 

“Are you two friends?”

 

“Why do you want to know, Ulrich?”

 

He shrugs, and now his gaze slides past her. “Never mind,” he mumbles. Odd calls his name from across the courtyard. She waits until he’s walked away to join the other boy before she turns. Emily is sitting on the low wall by the library, legs folded and head bent over a novel.

 

. . … . .

 

Sometimes, when she looks back on it, she tries to figure out what it is exactly that she doesn’t like about the other girl.

 

Emily is quiet, but so is Yumi. Neither belong to large social groups, as far as Yumi can tell. Those first twelve months of acquaintance Emily was friends with Tania Grandjean and Anais Fiquet while Yumi hung out with Shannon Abele and still sent multi-page letters back home to Hina and Kaito. She had never really understood homesick until that first year in France.

 

Emily is more artistically inclined than Yumi is. They share history and an art class. Emily takes the seat in back, next to one of the large windows. The sunlight slants through and the radiator doesn’t reach. Yumi doesn’t really know anyone else in that class, Shannon took chorus instead and Mathias gives her the creeps, so she sits across from Emily. The girl is talented in an effortless, absent minded way.

 

Yumi feels eyes on her and looks up to find Emily peering at her still life drawing. She smothers the initial reaction of covering it and lets her look. Emily flashes her a small, tentative smile. “It’s good,” she says. “If you work on the shadowing more, it’ll look more three-dimensional. I can show you?”

 

“It’s fine, thanks,” Yumi mutters. She looks between the fruit bowl on the table between them and her own drawing. They dart over to Emily’s own richly detailed drawing, colors vibrant and shadows deep. She imagines she could pluck the apple off Emily’s page and eat it. “I’ve got it.”

 

Emily sits back in her chair, studies her for a moment, then shrugs. “Okay,” she says.

 

. . … . .

 

Odd likes to tease that Yumi is jealous of Emily, that’s why they never got along. “After all,” he points out late one afternoon, “we all know Sissi’s not even a blip on Ulrich’s radar. But Emily’s cute and doesn’t screech.”

 

“Emily’s fine. Ulrich can date whoever he wants.”

 

“Yeah?” Odd asks, eyeing her curiously. He tilts his head to the side, glancing between her and where Ulrich is talking to Emily on the library stairs. “I wonder if you say that enough you’ll start to believe it.”

 

. . … . .

 

Yumi learns about Emily’s quick temper midway through their year together. It isn’t in art class, instead it’s in history. Yumi had been tuning out, doodling cherry blossoms and expressionless eyes in the margins of the notes she’s supposed to be taking. Shannon chatters next to her, planning the project they’re actually supposed to be working on. Yumi hums agreement in the appropriate parts and lets Shannon take the lead.

 

It isn’t that she doesn’t care about civil rights movements, it’s just that they’re all talk and little change.

 

The explosion comes ten minutes before the bell rings. Yumi still isn’t sure what started it, even all these years later. One minute the class was studiously working on their group presentations. The next, Emily and Priscilla break from furious whispers to a heated argument.

 

Yumi’s pen stills as she watches the drama unfold. Emily slams her books onto the desktop, both girls ignore Monsieur Fumet’s attempts to restore order. “Stop overreacting, Em. Mon dieu, it’s not like it matters,” Priscilla snaps.

 

Emily knocks her chair over as she storms from the room. Her shoulder bag catches Yumi in the arm, dashes her pen over the only pair of passable eyes she had doodled. She rubs her sore arm and glares at the door Emily slams behind her.

 

Too much drama, she thinks, disgruntled.

 

. . … . .

 

She finds Ulrich and Emily on the football field, lounging on the bleachers. Ulrich is stretched out on one of the risers, Emily sitting one higher, pen between her teeth and notebook on her knees. Emily is the first to notice her, eyes lifting and watching as Yumi crosses the rain-damp grass.

 

Ulrich is still talking, voice quietly carrying in the still air. Yumi keeps her eyes on them, face expressionless. She watches Emily set the pen on the notebook. Ulrich turns to see what’s caught the other girl’s eyes and his gaze catches Yumi’s. He sits up, offers her a small smile.

 

“You didn’t answer your phone,” she comments, coming to a stop at the foot of the bleachers. She keeps her voice light, curious. Her eyes dart between Ulrich and Emily. “I thought we were going to practice?”

 

“Sorry, I lost track of time,” Ulrich replies. He smiles at Emily and she returns it, tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Later, Em?” He grabs his bag and hops down the bleachers effortlessly, tilts his head curiously at Yumi. “Come on, we should still have enough sunlight to get in a few rounds, yeah?”

 

Yumi isn’t jealous, no matter what Odd believes, because she and Ulrich are friends. She made sure of it.

 

. . … . .

 

She had tried to explain it, once, to Aelita. How it wasn’t Emily she disliked. She didn’t really think about Emily too much, honestly. It wasn’t like they were enemies or arch-nemesis or whatever videogame or superhero analogy the boys liked to use. That was ridiculous. Sissi was the enemy and XANA was the arch-nemesis, clearly.

 

Emily was just…Emily.

 

The only time she really thought about the girl was when they were in each other’s presence.

 

“Why does this bother you so much?” Aelita had asked, head tilted to the side quizzically.

 

Yumi had sunk down on the bed next to her, dragged a hand through her hair, and stared up at the glow-in-the-dark stars Aelita had stuck to her ceiling. “I don’t know. It doesn’t, not really.”

 

“Is it because you’re jealous?” Aelita had sighed at the blank look Yumi shot her. “Odd says you like Ulrich, but he spends a lot of time with Emily too. Are you jealous that they’re getting closer?”

 

“What? No!” Yumi had shaken her head. “Ulrich can be friends with whoever he wants. I just, I don’t like people thinking that’s the reason I don’t like her.”

 

“Then why don’t you like her?”

 

And that was the question Yumi couldn’t answer. Emily was Emily wasn’t an answer. Everything circled back to jealousy, and she wasn’t. She wasn’t.

 

“She has a temper,” Yumi had said, finally.

 

Aelita had laughed, flopped back on the bed, and bumped shoulders with Yumi companionably. “Yeah? So do you.”

 

. . … . .

 

The thing is, she isn’t jealous of Emily Leduc. Not of her artistic talent, Yumi knows where her own talents lie and she’s never had the patience for art. She’s not jealous of her quiet confidence either because she knows her own strengths. And anyway, Emily has never put her down or acted like she was better than anyone else.

 

She isn’t jealous of Emily’s relationship with Ulrich either. That would be like being jealous of Ulrich spending time with Odd or Aelita or Jeremie. She knows she isn’t jealous of Emily and Ulrich because she disliked Emily long before Ulrich entered the picture.

 

Jeremie stares at her, bleary eyed, over the cup of coffee in front of him as she explains everything. She isn’t eloquent, it’s far too late at night to be eloquent, but she is comprehensible which is a plus. They’re sitting in the factory while Jeremie runs maintenance or surveillance or whatever on the supercomputer.

 

“Yumi,” Jeremie interrupts. She meets his eyes and he gives her a lopsided smile. “Not everyone gets along with everyone they meet. You’re entitled not to like someone.”

 

“Yeah, but I should at least know why I don’t like her. Even if it’s just so I can stop Odd and his stupid rumors.”

 

Jeremie nods, sips at his coffee, and clicks a few keys. “Do you want to know my guess?”

 

Yumi stretches her legs out and leans her head back against the supercomputer console. “Sure, why not?”

 

“I think you and Emily are very similar in a lot of ways. And,” he continues when she opens her mouth to protest, “I think one of those similarities rubs you the wrong way. That you see something you don’t like about you in her. And that’s why you don’t get along.”

 

“We get along, it’s not like she’s Sissi.”

 

“Yumi,” he groans. “You know what I mean. Think about it.”

 

She does, legs pulled up and chin resting on her folded knees. She listens to his occasional clicks and muttered tech-talk, and she really does think about it.

 

. . … . .

 

Emily and she are both quiet, more prone to observing the world than actively engaging it. While Yumi was forced into her observer role by language barriers and being the new kid, Emily’s take on it seems effortless. She is comfortable observing others while Yumi spent her first year wishing desperately to be back with the friends she’d left behind in Japan.

 

Emily is competent in what she does, and she doesn’t worry about making mistakes. Yumi has watched her in art class, sketching lines, erasing, blurring, starting over. The whole time with that far-away look on her face, not hiding her work from others who pass by and stop to watch for a few moments. Yumi has never developed that carefree attitude, the same one that Odd has when he gets in the zone with his painting or music. Even when she’s doing martial arts each move is calculated, planned out. A careful back-and-forth with her sparring partner. There is no room for mistakes, for casual observance.

 

Emily’s temper is explosive, but unlike Yumi’s, it’s a slow-burn. It takes a lot to get Emily to lash out, whereas Yumi can feel anger simmering in her veins even when she’s happy. A constant thrum and bubble that leaves her on edge, anxious, and looking around for an impending attack. Sometimes she wonders if it’s a side-effect of always being prepared for XANA, or if it’s genetic. Do her parents have this same thrum under their skin?

 

Emily is friends with Ulrich, just like Yumi is. It’s just like she told Jeremie, just like she’s argued with Odd, like she’s explained to Aelita: she can’t be mad at Ulrich for having friends. But, she realizes, it is different. The five of them share a bond, they talk about XANA and strategize attacks, and goof off to keep their sanity in-tact. Emily doesn’t have that, she and Ulrich have a friendship built solely on normal, everyday life. Because they chose to be friends. Like she and Shannon chose to be friends. She isn’t jealous of Emily, not really, she’s just sad that Emily can have that and she can’t.

 

. . … . .

 

She and Emily have always been similar, since Yumi first started at Kadic midway through her twelfth year. Sometimes, Yumi wonders what would have happened if she had come to Kadic sooner, or if she had never joined the boys in fighting XANA. Would she and Emily have become friends? Would she feel more of Emily’s calm, collected confidence herself?

 

She never liked Emily, and it wasn’t because she was jealous of her relationship with Ulrich – no matter what Odd said. She never liked Emily, but she also never really gave her too much thought either. They are too similar and too different at the same time. And sometimes, when she catches Emily’s eye across the room or courtyard or cafeteria, she has a feeling the other girl feels the same way.

Chapter 18: Saturdays

Notes:

Apparently I have a lot of feelings about Yumi and Aelita's friendship, that is all.

17. Saturday nights were Girls Nights, no matter what.

 

It starts, unofficially, during Aelita’s first…attempt. Back when they are young(er) and clueless, so high on bringing her into the world successfully that they hadn’t considered what to do with her afterwards. Hadn’t thought of how to fit her into their world.

 

Yumi’s parents had taken some convincing, but Aelita had charmed them with her genuine earnestness and joy at the world. Her first excited exclamation at eating sushi, the mad grasp for something to stifle her burning mouth when Hiroki had convinced her to eat more wasabi than was recommended, and the respectful way she offered to help. In those first moments, Yumi had found herself so grateful that they had succeeded, that they were able to rescue this strange, charming girl and make her human.

 

//

 

Yumi sits on her bed watching Aelita bounce around her room. She’s spent the past forty minutes perusing Yumi’s bookshelves and poking curiously through her closet. Yumi watches her, tries to imagine what’s so fascinating about dog-eared paperbacks and winter scarves.

 

“What do you want to do?” she asks as Aelita picks up a stuffed soot sprite from her dresser.

 

“I don’t know,” Aelita replies.

 

“Is there anything you want to see? Anywhere you want to visit? We can go tomorrow.”

 

Aelita bounces on her toes, sets the soot sprite down and flips through her copy of Peter Pan, loses interest in the book and moves to the corkboard covered in photos of her and the boys, her and her family, her friends back in Japan… “Aelita?”

 

“Hm? Oh, I don’t know,” she replies. “What do you usually do?”

 

Yumi shrugs, picks at a loose thread on her duvet. “Homework, hang with the guys, stop X.A.N.A.’s latest attack…” She smiles up at Aelita. “I guess we won’t have to worry about that last one for much longer.”

 

Aelita smiles back, all teeth and squinted eyes. “No, no I don’t think we will,” she agrees.

 

. . … . .

 

The second time they materialize Aelita, Yumi doesn’t have to do the song-and-dance for her family. She’s kind of disappointed about it, but it’s better this way. Jeremie hacked the system to get Aelita enrolled officially at Kadic. They have a room set up for her. Jeremie and Odd worked together to forge some kind of paperwork and Yumi’s impressed…and a little scared.

 

Sometimes Yumi wonders what Jeremie and Odd could do if they combined their talents. Most times she’s happy they haven’t put it to the test.

 

Ulrich flags her down as she’s exiting the language building at the end of the day on Friday. “You want to do some practice rounds tomorrow afternoon?” he asks.

 

She tilts her head, considering. “I can’t, Girls Night with Aelita,” she replies. “Someone has to get her cultured.”

 

“Hey!” Odd complains from where he’s sitting next to Ulrich. “I’m culturing her.”

 

“That sounds weird,” Ulrich comments, face twisting in a combination of disgust and confusion. “Don’t say it like that.”

 

“Video games and bands aren’t the only thing in the world, Odd,” Yumi replies. “You guys can have one of your monster movie marathons instead.”

 

“Spoilsport,” Odd replies, but he’s smiling.

 

//

 

Yumi knows that the boys try with Aelita, but, well, they’re boys. And sometimes you need girl-talk. Or something. It’s what the teen movies all preach, so she’ll try it with Aelita. And it’s nice to bond with the other girl. Sure, she isn’t what she expected, but her enthusiasm is contagious and she’s got a wicked sense of humor when she wants to show it off.

 

“Good evening, Mr. Ishiyama,” Aelita greets. Yumi looks up from where she’s setting the table on Saturday to see Aelita in the doorway.

 

“Aelita,” her father replies. He steps aside to let her in. “How are you?”

 

“Very well, how are you?” she replies, all bright smiles and bubblegum pink hair. Yumi’s father’s reaction to Aelita’s hair hasn’t changed since the original virtualization attempt. “Hi Yumi! Mrs. Ishiyama, do you need any help?”

 

Her mother smiles warmly at Aelita. “No, thank you. Why don’t you go set your things in Yumi’s room? Dinner will be in a few minutes.”

 

“Great, it smells delicious!” Aelita enthuses.

 

And the thing is, Yumi knows, she’s being genuine. Aelita hasn’t met an experience she hasn’t wanted to jump into feet-first. She sees her parents smile and knows Aelita has won them over, continues to win them over each visit. Aelita dances away upstairs to put away her overnight bag and Yumi finishes setting the table.

 

“Such a sweet girl,” her mother murmurs.

 

“So different to her cousin,” her father agrees.

 

//

 

They watch terrible teen movies and eat too much popcorn and potato chips. Aelita has discovered a love of potato chips dipped in crème fraiche and American ranch dressing mixed together. Yumi still isn’t completely sold on it, but she’s beginning to come around to the idea.

 

“These are so unrealistic,” Aelita laughs. They’re halfway through the second movie, the teenage girl in the middle of a mass shopping spree in a mall. “Who has money for all those clothes? Who has room?”

 

“It’s escapism,” Yumi replies. She stretches out on her side of the sofa and rolls her eyes at the main character’s antics. “Some people dream of being able to do this.”

 

“Girl movies are so stupid,” Hiroki comments as he passes behind them. Yumi makes a half-hearted swipe at him, but he dodges easily. “Honestly, I thought better of you.”

 

“Good night, Hiroki.”

 

“It’s Saturday, I don’t have a bedtime on Saturdays.”

 

“Then go play video games upstairs or something.”

 

“Aw, be nice, Yumi,” Aelita says. She tilts her head back, smiling at Hiroki. “They’re kind of fun, even if they’re unrealistic. Want to watch?”

 

He looks up at the shopping montage and pulls a face. “No way.”

 

Yumi waits until she hears him thumping up the stairs before turning back to Aelita. “You’re too nice to him,” she states.

 

Aelita smiles, scoops a large glob of dip onto a potato chip. “Did you really expect him to agree?” she asks. “It doesn’t hurt to be nice.”

 

“I am nice,” Yumi protests.

 

Aelita gives her a startled look, cheeks pink. “Of course you are! I didn’t mean you weren’t!” She stuffs the chip in her mouth and Yumi laughs. She hasn’t felt this relaxed in ages.

 

. . … . .

 

Aelita is painting her toes at her desk when Yumi lets herself into the younger girl’s room. “You started without me.”

 

"Yumi?” Aelita asks, eyes wide.

 

“Yeah?” Yumi asks. She drops her backpack by the door and flops onto Aelita’s bed. “What?” She pulls the stuffed frog out from under her back and rolls over to study Aelita.

 

“You’re here?” Aelita asks, head tilted.

 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” she replies. “It’s Saturday.”

 

Aelita shrugs, spinning in her desk chair slowly. “I just thought that was code or something, like in the movies.”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“Well. You’re seeing Ulrich now. I thought…” she trails off, face red, and shrugs again. Yumi stares at her for a minute, maybe two, and Aelita shrugs. “That’s what happens in those movies. One girl gets a boyfriend and the other covers for her so her parents don’t freak out…”

 

“Hiroki was right,” Yumi replies, sitting up. “Girl movies are stupid.” She pulls her hair up into a bun and rolls her eyes. “Just because I’m dating Ulrich doesn't mean I’m going to ditch Girls Night. Unless you made other plans…?”

 

“Not unless you count trig.”

 

“I never count trig,” Yumi replies, smiling. Aelita grins back, chair spinning happily. “So, manicures and pedicures?”

 

“Of course,” Aelita replies. “You know I struggle doing my right hand.”

 

“Of course,” Yumi agrees, voice dry but smile widening.

 

. . … . .

 

“Boys are such idiots,” Aelita complains as soon as Yumi opens her front door. She isn’t crying, which is a good sign, but her cheeks are flushed and her voice cracks.

 

“Come on,” Yumi says. She takes Aelita’s bag and drops it inside the door next to the coatrack. “What’s up?”

 

“Ugh, I need Nutella,” Aelita sighs.

 

“We’re all out. Up for a walk to town?”

 

Aelita blows a breath out, hands buried in the pockets of her coat. “Yeah, okay,” she agrees.

 

“Mom, Aelita and I are going to Carrefour!” she calls, grabbing her own coat.

 

“Ooh! Bring me Kinder Eggs!” Hiroki yells from upstairs.

 

//

 

The walk into town had mostly been silent, with only small talk about school and upcoming holiday plans. Yumi did most of the talking, Aelita nodding along and occasionally adding commentary. They wander into Carrefour, making their way to the supermarket and by-passing the toys and clothes set up at the front.

 

“So…Do you want to talk about what happened?” Yumi asks. They’re walking down the chocolate aisle and Yumi grabs a box of superhero-themed Kinder Eggs. No one could ever say she was a bad sister. “Which of the boys is stupid? Or is it a collective whole this time?”

 

Aelita manages a smile, fingers combing through her pink hair. She picks up a package of speculoos from a display. “It’s stupid.”

 

“I gathered,” Yumi replies, voice dry. Aelita laughs and Yumi nudges her. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Odd invited me to Norway for Christmas,” she says finally. “Says I should meet the rest of the family.”

 

“Okay…?” Aelita grabs the largest container of Nutella and Yumi blinks. “Aelita, you don’t need a thousand grams of Nutella. Where will you put it?”

 

“You underestimate my need for chocolately hazelnut spread,” Aelita mutters. She puts it back though, grabbing the four hundred gram one instead. Yumi frowns but doesn’t say anything. “I told Jeremie that Odd invited me home. And he got…all uptight.” She waves a hand as they make their way to the cashiers. “You know how his mouth goes all thin and he blinks a lot when he’s upset? He did that.”

 

“Why would he be upset?” Yumi asks, confused.

 

Aelita blows out a long breath and Yumi pays for the Kinder Eggs, cookies, and Nutella. “Odd,” Aelita explains.

 

“Does he think the whole cousin-thing will backfire?” Yumi asks. They make their way out of the market place and back into the brisk late autumn air. “If so, I have to say I agree with him. I’m still not sure how Odd’s managed to convince them this long.”

 

Aelita lifts a shoulder, wrestling with the Nutella lid. Yumi hands her the open package of speculoos once she’s succeeded in opening the container. “Maybe? I think it’s because of the whole Herb-and-Nicholas incident from last year.”

 

“Ah,” Yumi says. Aelita nods, eating her Nutella-dipped speculoos as they head back to the house. “He’s worried.”

 

“He’s being stupid,” Aelita replies, cheeks flushed.

 

“What does Odd think?”

 

“He thinks Jeremie is jealous, which is also stupid.” Aelita rolls her eyes and takes a vicious bite of her cookie. “Jeremie doesn’t see me like that at all. I don’t know why he’s being all twitchy and uptight.”

 

Yumi bites her lip and shrugs. “Maybe you should talk to Jeremie about it. You know, so he can tell you what’s the matter?”

 

Aelita snorts. “Right. Jeremie’s great and understanding and all, but getting him to open up? It’s almost as hard as getting Ulrich to talk about his home life.”

 

Yumi stifles a laugh. “You know that’s not true. Jeremie talks to you all the time. Maybe he is jealous.”

 

Aelita shoots her a dark look; it’s ruined by the flush in her face and the Nutella on her chin. Yumi steals a speculoos to hide her smile.

 

. . … . .

 

Aelita stretches out on Yumi’s bed, flips through a magazine absently, and hums along to the song playing over the speakers. Over the weeks, months, year she’s been here it’s become a somewhat constant fixture. If she stops to really think about it, Yumi can count on one hand how many Saturdays they haven’t spent some portion of together.

 

 “I was always kind of envious of you,” Aelita says suddenly as the disc changes tracks. “The boys too, but more so you.”

 

“Oh?” Yumi asks. She sits up from where she’s working on a history project and Aelita nods. “Why?”

 

“You were so lucky, having your family here with you.” Yumi frowns and Aelita smiles at her. “It’s okay, there’s nothing that can be done about it. It’s just…after spending time with Odd’s family over Christmas I realized how lucky I am.”

 

Yumi must still look as confused as she feels because Aelita’s smile softens. “You guys have said it forever, but I don’t think it really sank in before. You all have families; families you didn’t get to pick, but you did pick me. And whether it’s you and your family letting me stay over, or Odd inviting me home for the holidays, or Ulrich checking to see if I’m okay, or Jeremie blushing before he holds my hand…you chose me. And I’m just really lucky.”

 

“What’s brought this on?” Yumi questions, blinking in surprise. “You’re not about to tell me we have to restart Lyoko, are you?”

 

Aelita laughs, shaking her head. “No, I just…I don’t know.” She holds up the magazine she had been flipping through. “There’s an article in here about making sure people know how much they mean to you. So, I’m making sure.”

 

Yumi laughs, stretching out again to resume her project. “Message received,” she replies. “And for the record, we’re, I’m glad you’re here too.”

 

. . … . .

 

They spend the afternoon in town, checking out the smaller boutiques along the older section. Aelita’s smile dims as the afternoon progresses, a frown appearing between her eyebrows. “You’re worrying too much,” Yumi comments as she browses the racks of the latest shop. It’s the fifth one they’ve visited.

 

“I don’t think so,” Aelita replies. She shakes her head at the dress Yumi holds up for her. “No, it’s too…pink.”

 

“You like pink,” Yumi counters.

 

“It’s a wedding, Yumi. I shouldn’t wear pink at a wedding.”

 

“You’re thinking of a funeral,” Yumi replies. “You can totally wear pink to a wedding.” She flips through the dresses on another rack. “Does Jeremie’s cousin have a theme?”

 

“Not that he’s told me,” she sighs. “I’m meeting his family for the first time, I can’t just look…well, I need to look presentable.”

 

“You always look presentable,” Yumi protests. Aelita raises her eyebrows and Yumi laughs. “Okay, except for when you let Odd influence your wardrobe.” Aelita rolls her eyes, turning to another rack. Yumi stares at the back of her head for a moment before leaving her own rack to approach the shorter girl. “Is this the real reason you dyed your hair?”

 

“Blondes have more fun,” Aelita mumbles. She puts back a purple dress and Yumi sighs. “I don’t want to embarrass Jeremie,” Aelita murmurs.

 

“Aelita, you could turn up in a potato sack and Jeremie would still look at you like you were the best thing in the world,” Yumi protests. “Come on, don’t freak out.”

 

“I’m not freaking out,” Aelita argues.

 

“Uh huh.” Yumi pulls out a pale lavender dress. It isn’t pink, but it still has a similarity to Aelita’s signature color. “What about this? Come on, try it on.” Aelita frowns and Yumi shoves the dress into her hands. “Go on, try it on.”

 

Aelita disappears into the dressing room at the back of the shop. Yumi follows to make sure she actually tries the dress on. “Are you sure it isn’t too casual?” Aelita asks, pulling the curtain back. Her eyes are bright and Yumi can tell she likes the dress, even if she won’t admit it yet.

 

“No, it looks good,” she says. The bodice is slightly more fitted with cap sleeves and the skirt flares out to just below her knees. Yumi smiles at her. “You look good in it,” she reassures. “It’s perfect for a country wedding.”

 

Aelita frowns at the mirror, teeth worrying at her bottom lip. “It is very pretty,” she says finally.

 

“Aelita, it looks good,” Yumi promises.

 

Aelita stares for another moment or two before she finally smiles. “Okay,” she says. She gives a twirl, laughing as the skirt flares out, and grins at Yumi. “I’m going to get it, gosh I’m so tired of trying on clothes!”

 

Yumi grins. “You only tried on four dresses. You refused everything else.”

 

“Yeah, well, looking at dresses is exhausting,” Aelita comments as she disappears back into the changing room.  “Do you think Jeremie will like it?”

 

“I think Jeremie will be speechless,” Yumi replies. She hears Aelita’s laughter through the heavy curtain and smiles.

 

. . … . .

 

Yumi is exhausted.

 

She has been unpacking for three days and she still has boxes. She didn’t even think she owned this much stuff. Her body aches from lifting and bending, she’s coated in dust and sweat, and all she wants is a long bath. She isn’t sure if she’ll fall asleep, but she also doesn’t want to collapse in bed in the state she’s in.

 

She’s about to head for the bath when there’s a knock on the door. She frowns, opening it slowly, and stands, staring. Aelita grins at her from the hallway, overnight bag slung over a shoulder and tote bag filled with produce and a baguette in her other hand.

 

“You look terrible,” she says.

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

“It’s Saturday, remember?” Aelita replies. She brushes past Yumi into the apartment and grins. “You’ve done so much already! It looks great! I promised the boys I’d take pictures since you aren’t sending any to the group text.”

 

Yumi blinks at her and Aelita turns back, grinning. “How did you get here?”

 

“Train, duh. I have to head back early Monday to make it in time for classes. Sorry about that, I tried but they don’t have trains on Sundays.” Aelita sets her bags down on the table and makes a shooing motion at Yumi. “Go shower or bathe, while I make food. You really do look terrible.”

 

//

 

Aelita’s definition of making food turns out to mean slicing up apples and cheese, cutting up the baguette, pulling out pâté, and  setting out a jar of Nutella and packet of speculoos for dessert. It’s more than Yumi’s eaten all day though and she digs in gratefully.

 

Now that she’s clean and fed she can focus on what’s actually going on. “You didn’t have to come,” she says.

 

Aelita shrugs and scrapes at the Nutella wrapper with her thumbnail. “I wasn’t going to, at first. But it just felt weird, not seeing you. And I didn’t have anything planned this weekend anyway.” She looks up at Yumi. “Do you wish I hadn’t come?”

 

Yumi considers and then shakes her head. “No, it’s good to see a familiar face,” she replies. Aelita smiles back at her. Yumi notices that she’s added pink streaks to her blonde hair. “I’m still unpacking though.”

 

“That’s okay, I can help tomorrow,” Aelita replies. She returns to scratching the label. “I know going to University is what happens next. We finish at Kadic and we go to work or University or whatever. It’s logical, but it’s so weird that we’re all spread out now. Or will be soon.”

 

“It just means we’ll have more places to visit,” Yumi replies. She tosses an apple stem at Aelita. “Come on, you know you and the boys are visiting your next break. My living room will be taken over and Odd will eat me out of house and home.”

 

Aelita laughs. “I know,” she agrees. “Sometimes I forget that being on Earth means things do change. It was easy to forget, when we were all still at Kadic and nothing really changed.”

 

“Just remember, you wanted to come to Earth.”

 

“And I’m still happy that I did. I just don’t want everything to change.”

 

“It won’t,” Yumi reassures. She gets up, cleaning away their meager dishes and debris. “We’ll always be friends. You, me, and the boys.”

 

Aelita grins at her. “Good,” she says, “because Jeremie’s feeling abandoned. He says you left him to fend for himself with us three.”

 

Yumi laughs as well. “It’ll do him some good, toughen him up.”

 

“You know, it goes for you too,” Aelita states. Yumi looks at her in surprise and Aelita pulls her into a quick hug. “We’re all here for you too, Yumi. Even though we’re still at Kadic, we’re here for you. If you need us. You know that, right?”

 

“I know,” Yumi replies, smiling. “Thanks.”

Chapter 19: Contact

18. She kept in contact with Jeremie the most (even if Aelita was the more persistent).

 

When they’d first become a team, she hadn’t known what to expect. She hadn’t thought it would last as long as it did. She didn’t know the things they’d see, the monsters they’d fight. When she’s feeling particularly maudlin, exhausted but unable to sleep, she’ll ask herself if it was worth it. Did she regret it. And the answer, no matter how bad the insomnia is, no matter how bad the guilt or the dreams, is always the same. She did not regret it, it had been worth it.

 

Those first days, weeks, had been spent getting to know the boys. Her new teammates. The people she would depend on to have her back. Somehow she had found herself drawn to the quiet bespectacled boy. Jeremie Belpois. The youngest in their group, almost two years her junior, but with old eyes and a way with computers that made her envious.

 

Jeremie wanted them to be in contact, always. Anything that seemed odd or suspicious needed to be reported immediately. He would text them periodically with updates or requests for training sessions on Lyoko. The boys joked and played around but Yumi understood.

 

Yumi found herself looking forward to those quiet moments, where she and Jeremie sat in the factory, talking about school, Lyoko, or just listening to his technobabble. She wondered if it would change, once they got Aelita freed and on Earth. Would they still have these moments? There would be no need for the factory anymore.

 

She wondered if she would miss it.

 

. . … . .

 

In the early days, back when they were still feeling invincible but checking over their shoulders just in case, she had typed her number into Aelita’s new, bright pink phone. “In case you need anything,” she had told her. “All you have to do is press the three and it’ll call me.”

 

“Do you think this will be necessary?” Aelita had questioned. “Jeremie already put his in for number two.” Yumi wasn’t surprised, she’d guessed Jeremie would want to be the first point of contact. He’d always insisted they contact him first if anything seemed X.A.N.A.-y.

 

Yumi had shrugged and tossed the phone to Aelita. The younger girl caught it effortlessly. “You never know. And sometimes it might not be X.A.N.A.-related,” she replied.

 

Aelita had grinned then, bright and looking too-young in her bare dorm room. “So, I can call you anytime? Not just if it’s an attack?”

 

Yumi had been surprised, had shrugged again and offered her own modest smile. It felt modest, something tiny and worn, compared to Aelita’s brightness. “Of course,” she answered. “That goes for any of us.”

 

. . … . .

 

It wasn’t that she didn’t talk to the others, she did. Odd had a proclivity of sending lame jokes and mindless observations, particularly in the even earlier days, when they’d been trying each other out.

 

Monsieur et madame ENFAILLITE ont une fille, comment s'appelle-t-elle?

Mélusine

Get it ?

Mets l'usine en faillite

Come on, ur French isn’t THAT bad

 

She hadn’t deigned to respond until she walked onto campus the next day. “Jeremie won’t like that one,” she had told him.

 

Odd tilted his head back, studied her through calculating green eyes. “Good thing I didn’t send it to him, huh?” he asked. His voice was bright and bubbly, but his look was still considering. Yumi wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but she had shrugged and hitched her satchel higher on her shoulder.

 

The years hadn’t changed much, really. Odd still sent clips of songs he found interesting, silly puns that she smiled and rolled her eyes at. Then, a year after their first mistake, a simple im here greeted her when she woke up. Again it was there the next year. And again after that horrible night, their second failure.

 

She’d spent two days crying, two days unable to sleep. She hadn’t meant to respond, just like most of his other messages. She had never responded before. But two days of no sleep weighed on her, hung heavy like a noose around her neck.

 

Meet in town in 20?

 

His reply hadn’t been instant, but it had come faster than she’d expected.

 

L’Orange Café

C u soon

 

She wondered, as she got ready, what he would say when she laid out her plan. She picked up her wallet, checked her reflection. Her head pounded, her eyes were outlined in red, shadowed in blacks ad purples. She squared her shoulders. Somehow, she felt he would understand, he would help.

 

She had been right.

 

. . … . .

 

Did you have Monsieur Hugo?

 

For history?

 

Yes.

 

He’s terrible.

Compliment his stupid ties.

He likes thinking he’s cool.

 

That seems like cheating?

 

He plays favorites.

 

D’accord.

 

//

 

“Did the others tell you we have a new headmistress?” Jeremie asks.

 

It’s their weekly Wednesday night check-in. Yumi settles by the partially opened window and nibbles at a croissant she picked up at work. “No?” she replies. “How is she?”

 

“Too early to tell, I suppose,” he says. He sounds long-suffering. “Her accent is terrible, she’s from Switzerland.”

 

Yumi laughs, surprising herself at the loudness. “What’s wrong with the Swiss?”

 

“Nothing,” Jeremie replies. “I love Switzerland, but have you heard them speak French?”

“Come on,” Yumi says, taking a bite of her croissant. “It can’t be any worse than mine.”

 

“There’s a difference,” Jeremie insists. He’s quiet for a moment. “They put her in Delmas’s old apartment.”

 

Of course they did. Yumi knew they had cleared out the apartment weeks ago. Aelita had texted her to say Sissi and Ulrich had spent the weekend cleaning it out. Yumi wasn’t sure where everything went, wasn’t sure if Sissi had other family or not. She’d debated calling Ulrich, after, but hadn’t known what to say. Sissi had never been an easy topic for them.

 

“How did…?”

 

“Surprising well,” Jeremie replies. “She got called to the office in class today, I guess the new headmistress wants to get to know her or something.”

 

“Or something,” Yumi agrees. “How’s the robot coming?”

 

“Still a way to go with her, but I doubt there will be an issue beating Herve this year.” Yumi smiles, settles back to stare down at the busy streets below, and listens to Jeremie wax poetic about his robot. It almost feels like when they’d sit and chat in the factory during maintenance or programming.

 

She’s missed it.

 

. . … . .

 

Those early days had been hard, trying to keep Aelita safe without being suspicious about it. It was a crash course in everything Earth. Bands, movies, TV shows, music, clothes…they all had a role to play in getting her up to speed. Jeremie had taken over technology, Odd music and familial history, Ulrich television and movies. Yumi had been left with clothes and books, and apparently reassurance.

 

What if someone asks me to speak Norwegian?

 

No one here speaks Norwegian, don’t worry.

 

What about pictures? Will they want to see pictures?

That movie had the new girl show pictures.

 

Yumi hadn’t been sure what that movie was, but the fix seemed simple enough.

 

Get Odd to give you some of his photos.

Maybe Jeremie can photoshop you into them?

 

Yumi was exhausted, mentally drained before they’d even had Aelita face the general populace. She told herself it was worth it, told herself that Aelita was nervous, told herself that Aelita just didn’t know. She still winced when her phone buzzed. It seemed like she’d traded Jeremie’s calm direction for Aelita’s whirlwind questions.

 

She wasn’t sure which she preferred.

 

. . … . .

 

Jeremie got into Sciences Po.

 

Really?!

 

Don’t tell him I told you. He’s very excited & won’t stop smiling.

 

That’s exciting! Have you applied?

Aelita?

 

He’s going to tell you tonight.

Remember I told you NOTHING.

 

//

 

Yumi has just finished telling a riveting tale about running for the subway in the rain and almost sliding into a group of American tourists when Jeremie clears his throat. “I have news,” he says, voice tight and a little high.

 

“What has Odd done this time?” she asks, voice light and mocking. She adjusts the flame on the stove and sets a pot of water to boil. “Is he up to his old tricks again?”

 

“Uh, no, no,” Jeremie replies. He coughs once, twice, clears his throat again. “I’ve been accepted to Sciences Po.” His voice is serious, deadpan. Yumi grins at the pot beginning to simmer.

 

“Really?” she asks. “That’s great, Jer!”

 

“I’m quite happy,” he agrees. She can hear the pleased, embarrassed note to his voice and she smiles wider.

 

“I’m really proud of you. We told you you’d get in. Your brain’s too big not to,” she replies. “I imagine Aelita will be coming to Paris for school too?” There’s a long pause. “Jeremie?”

 

“Aelita’s decided to take a year off,” he says finally. His voice is cautious now and she knows she has to tread lightly. He doesn’t like telling other people’s business.

 

“That makes sense,” she says, even though it doesn’t. Aelita is as smart as Jeremie, she could get in anywhere. “I guess she’ll need to save for school since…” Since she doesn’t technically exist.

 

Jeremie blows out a breath. “She could earn a scholarship, she’s received dozens of offers.” Another pause. “She wants to go to Norway. To visit Odd’s family.”

 

“Oh?” The water is boiling now, she throws the pasta in and tries to focus her thoughts. “That’s interesting. What do you think about it?”

 

“I don’t understand it,” he says. There’s a fragility to his voice that she’s only heard a handful of times. “She says she wants to see the world, not more textbooks.” The laugh that follows is hollow.

 

“Well, she has time to change her mind if she wants.” She forces the information to the back of her mind to think about later. “You’re going to love it here. I’ll give you the grand tour. It’ll be great, you’ll see,” she promises.

 

“I’m sure it will be, Yumi.”

 

. . … . .

 

Her communications with Ulrich had been…different. She wasn’t sure that was the best description, but it was the only one she could come up with. The early days had been mostly them texting times to meet to train, updates on X.A.N.A. attacks, and had slowly evolved into commiserating on Odd’s sense of humor, Jeremie’s single-minded drive, and other interests they’d discovered.

 

Ulrich preferred phone calls to texting, unless it was a short message. At first she’d found it odd, written it off as the expense, back before she’d known of his dyslexia. Once they’d become more, once they’d given that tension a try, it had continued with phone calls and late night texts. He was slow to respond, typed in shorthand, but she had found it sweet, the fact that he still texted her even though it was difficult. That had to mean he cared, right?

 

She wonders what it says about them that their messages never really changed after everything. After the hurt, after the moving on, after-after-after.

 

Hows Paris?

 

She’d had a million responses she could have sent. She typed and erased and typed again. She settled for: Quiet.

 

He’d called her five minutes later and she’d answered on the third ring. “No one’s ever described Paris as quiet,” he’d said in lieu of a greeting.

 

“Well, you didn’t ask what everyone else thought,” she’d retorted. She could hear his quiet laugh and behind it the soft rhythmic thud of something hitting something else. She pictured him sprawled on his back, tossing the hacky-sack against the wall or ceiling.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing,” she replied, voice cheerful. She sat on her windowsill and stared out across the rooftops toward the Seine. She might be able to see Notre Dame from here, maybe. “It is quiet, no Hiroki chattering or parents fighting…”

 

“You said you wanted quiet,” he reminded her, voice gentle.

 

“I did. I do,” she replied. “I guess I just didn’t realize how much different it would be.”

 

“Hm,” he hums. She hears the German burr in his voice, it’s not something she notices often. “I could send Odd to visit, if you want noise.”

 

“What did I ever do to you?” she exclaims, laughing.

 

“Alright, alright,” he replies, amusement clear in his voice. “How’s the apartment coming along? Still unpacking?” She groans and they fall into mindless chatter about upcoming classes and the goings-on around Kadic. It reminds her of the early days, when they were still getting to know each other.

 

A day later there’s a knock on her door and Aelita stands there, grinning. It’s Saturday, but she has a feeling there’s another reason for her visit. She never asks, Aelita never says, but Ulrich calls her Monday night to ask how her weekend was and she knows she has her answer.

 

. . … . .

 

Is it better to fly or take the train to Norway?

 

Is there a train to Norway?

Direct, I mean?

 

Idk

 

I thought you were traveling with Odd?

Plane would be faster.

You could fly from Paris.

 

We could visit!

 

Of course :)

 

Maybe when Jeremie moves in

We could all visit you

It’ll be so much fun!!!!

 

And crowded.

 

We’ll make room

This will be great!

I’ll check with Jeremie & Odd!

 

//

 

“I’ve been accepted to École Polytechnique,” Jeremie informs her. She can hear the quiver in his voice that means he’s excited but trying to play it cool. It’s the same one he got when he’d asked her, in fits and starts, whether she thought Aelita would be interested in going out with him. “I’ve accepted.”

 

“That’s amazing, Jer!” she exclaims. And it is. She knows he was content when he received the acceptance from SciencesPo, Aelita had called her, laughing, telling her how he hadn’t been able to stop smiling all week. But she knows he’d really had his eyes set on l’X.

 

“It is, isn’t it?” he asks, and she can hear the smile in his voice.

 

Yumi flops onto the sofa and stares out the rain-smeared windows. “Have you…have you thought about which sport you’ll do?” She tamps down on the smile, tries to hide the teasing in her voice.

 

Jeremie gives a long-suffering sigh. “Not running,” he says, voice firm. “Ulrich tried to teach me some martial arts…I’m not sure I’m suited to that either.”

 

“I’m sure you’ll find something,” Yumi promises, voice warm. “You’ll only be an hour or two away,” she adds, mentally calculating the distance from the Latin Quarter to Palaiseau. She’d never visited l’X before, but she was fairly certain the RER B line would take her there. “I’m really happy for you,” she adds.

 

“Thank you,” he replies, a pleased note to his voice. She wonders how long he’ll be grinning for this time.

 

. . … . .

 

Yumi’s phone rings as she’s opening the door to her studio. She fishes it out, managing to get the key out of the lock and not drop the mail while doing so. She’s impressed with herself.

 

“I hate fencing,” Jeremie says, not bothering with pleasantries.

 

Yumi laughs, kicks the door shut and slides the deadbolt in place. “Hello to you too,” she replies. She drops her satchel on the chair, hangs her coat over the hook by the door. “What’s wrong with fencing? You liked it last week.”

 

“I liked it better than hiking,” Jeremie corrects.

 

“Which you liked better than rowing.”

 

“Anything is better than rowing,” Jeremie protests. “I don’t understand why we have to do six hours of sports a week.”

 

“How else will you get oxygen to that big brain of yours?” she replies, smiling.

 

“You sound like Odd now,” Jeremie grumbles.

 

“What’s wrong with fencing?” she asks again. She flips through her mail. Bill, bill, advertisement, post card, post card, letter.

 

“The epees hurt,” he replies. “The padding is a lie.”

 

She laughs again, sets the bills aside and looks at the post cards. Both are from Aelita, one shows a cityscape, Prague written across the bottom. The other from Budapest. “You aren’t supposed to get hit, that’s the point.”

 

“Tell that to my bruises.” There’s a frustrated sigh and then Jeremie’s voice changes, becomes bright and besotted, the same way he does whenever he’s about to talk about Aelita. “Aelita’s back in civilization, I spoke to her last night.”

 

“I just got mail from her,” Yumi says. “She’s in Hungary?”

 

“Yes,” he agrees. “She’s making her way through northern Italy, maybe the south if she has time, before coming back to Paris.” Another pause. “I might meet her in Switzerland before that.”

 

Yumi raises her eyebrows even though he can’t see her. “Switzerland?”

 

“Geneva,” he agrees.

 

She opens the letter, sees the picture from Aelita and the three pages of writing. “That’ll be fun,” she replies. “Maybe those hiking lessons will come in handy.”

 

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” he groans.

 

She grins, pinning the post cards and picture to the corkboard in the kitchen. They take up space next to the other photos and post cards Aelita has sent, the ones Odd had sent while in training, the photos Ulrich sent from Scotland, trying to entice her into visiting.

 

“Think of it this way, with all those sports Aelita won’t recognize the new you. Unless you get poked to death with a practice sword.”

 

“I don’t know why I talk to you,” he grumbles.

 

Yumi laughs, flops onto the sofa and lets her feet hang over the armrest. “I’m sure Odd would be more sympathetic. Or Ulrich?”

 

“I can’t wait until Aelita’s back,” he sighs.

 

She smiles, voice soft, “Yeah, me too.”

Chapter 20: Bake

19. She liked to bake.

 

Yumi remembers bright Sunday afternoons with her mother’s sister, the taste of melonpan sweet on her tongue. It was a Sunday treat, being able to visit with her mother’s side of the family. “Is Yumi bothering you, Akari?” her mother would ask each time she caught Yumi in the kitchen.

 

“Nonsense, Akiko,” her aunt would laugh, voice bright and melodic. “It is nice to have a girl in the house and not just boys.” Her aunt would smile at her then, a mischievous twinkle in her brown eyes. “Yumi is a great help in the kitchen.”

 

“My Yumi? You must be mistaken, my Yumi can’t make rice properly.”

 

Yumi would flush and protest, and her mother and her aunt would just laugh. “Ah, then she takes after you, imouto.” Her aunt would turn to Yumi then, face full of mischief. “Your mother once caught the pot of rice on fire.”

 

“I was twelve.”

 

“And should’ve known better,” her aunt replies. “We’ll make a cook out of you yet, Yumi. Now, leave us be, Akiko. There is little hope for you, but still some for your daughter.”

 

//

 

“You are not beating the dough, Yumi. You are kneading it, you are making it your friend,” her aunt instructed.

 

Yumi hissed a breath through her teeth and used her shoulder to brush the hair off her forehead. “I’m trying, Oba.”

 

Her aunt made a tsking sound, clucking her tongue against the back of her teeth, and covered Yumi’s pale hands with her own gnarled ones. “Like this, child.” She pressed Yumi’s hands into the dough, keeping the motion even and simple. “You must learn to control your strength, Yumi. If you go too hard you make the dough tough and inedible. If you go too soft, the dough is sticky and not obey you. You will learn, with time and practice.”

 

“Control?” Yumi scoffed. “Isn’t baking just making pretty things you can eat?”

 

Akari laughed and wiped her hands on her apron. “If only it were that easy! It is a science. Your ingredients must always be in balance, the temperature must be right, and you must have the knowledge to make the dough work for you. You can have the prettiest pastry, but if it doesn’t taste good then what was the point?”

 

Yumi frowned and her aunt picked up a quartz rock sitting on the shelf over the kitchen sink. “Look at this, Yumi. I could frost it and make it look like the prettiest cake, but it is still a rock. You couldn’t eat it. The same goes for baking. Now, come on, knead it properly.”

 

Four hours and two bouts of frustrated crying later, Yumi set the finished melonpans on the table, smiling. They weren’t as perfect as her aunt’s were, but they came out smelling good, crisp on the outside and sweet on the inside. Hiroki grabbed two and her mother had to pry one out of his hands. He wailed as she carried him away from the sweet bread.

 

“Yumi made these?” her father asked. He smiled at her from across the table. “You did a good job.”

 

. . … . .

 

France didn’t have melonpans. Instead, the pâtisseries were filled with croissants and napoleons, éclairs and macarons, cannelés and brioche… Their father came home with two large boxes filled with the different pastries their first week there. Hiroki dived head-first into the sugary treats while Yumi was more scientific, carefully evaluating each bite she took.  

 

“They aren’t like the food from home,” her mother stated, “but they are good.” She took another chocolate éclair from the box and smiled at their father. “Thank you, Takeyo.”

 

It was the first hint that maybe things would be better in France.

 

//

 

“What are you doing?” Hiroki questions, eyeing the cluttered kitchen counters. “It looks like the fridge and pantry threw up.”

 

“Don’t distract me,” Yumi snaps. She runs her finger along the recipe she had printed at school and frowns at it. She feels Hiroki come up and look around her shoulder to read the recipe as well.

 

“Pain au chocolat?” Hiroki reads. “Isn’t that a bit advanced for you? You barely mastered the ikinari dango before we moved.” Yumi ignores him. “Why don’t you try making imagawayaki if you feel like baking.”

 

“It’s mom’s birthday tomorrow,” Yumi replies. “She likes chocolate.”

 

“She likes nerikiri too, I don’t see you attempting that,” Hiroki grumbles.

 

“Go away, Hiroki,” Yumi snaps. “I need to concentrate.”

 

Hiroki scowls but retreats to the living room. Yumi sighs, it hadn’t looked that hard initially, but she’s feeling a bit overwhelmed now. French dough isn’t the same as Japanese dough, she realizes. “Don’t burn the house down!” Hiroki yells from the next room. She glares and rolls up her sleeves, ties back her hair, and gets to work.

 

In the end she needs to use all the counters and the kitchen table to make the pain au chocolat. Her mother comes in, eyebrows raised when she sees the make-shift proofing boxes Yumi assembled out of garbage bags and inverted glasses.

 

“Do I want to ask?” she questions.

 

“It’s a surprise, don’t peek.”

 

Her mother looks skeptical and Hiroki follows her in. “They still aren’t done?” he asks. “You’ve been at it for hours.”

 

“They’re rising,” Yumi replies. “They’ll be ready tomorrow.”

 

Despite Hiroki’s disbelief, he follows Yumi into the kitchen early the next morning. Their mother is still asleep, but their father is seated at the table, eating toast and flipping through the business section of the newspaper. There’s a bouquet of fresh daffodils and roses sitting on the table, a bright bow wrapped around the vase. He looks up at them in surprise when they enter the kitchen.

 

“You two are up early.”

 

“Mom’s birthday,” Hiroki replies. “And I wanted to see if Yumi’s experiment exploded.”

 

Yumi ignores him and sets about getting the oven ready and removing the trays of pastries from the garbage bags. Hiroki makes tea while they wait for the pastries to turn a deep golden color. The kitchen fills with the smell of baking pastry and melted chocolate.  Yumi pulls them from the oven and arranges them on one of her mother’s good plates, setting them on the table as she hears footsteps on the stairs.

 

“What do I smell?” their mother questions. She enters the kitchen in her robe and slippers.

 

“Happy birthday, Mom!” Hiroki exclaims. He hugs her quickly. “Yumi didn’t burn down the kitchen!”

 

“That’s good,” their mother laughs. She pulls Yumi into a hug as well. “These smell delicious, Yumi.”

 

“Yeah, even if they look weird,” Hiroki replies.

 

“Hiroki,” their father warns. He gets up, kisses their mother on her cheek and ruffles Yumi’s hair. “Happy birthday, Akiko. Yumi, these look wonderful.”

 

Yumi flushes and ducks her head, busies herself with making the next tray.

 

. . … . .

 

Yumi is a disaster when it comes to art class, to music lessons, to vocal coaching. She doesn’t have the patience to sit and practice and judge what would make something good. Sitting in class and watching Emily paint from across the table she’s aware of her shortcomings. Technically, she knows about complementary colors and shading and perspective, but no matter what she tries, everything comes out looking lifeless.

 

“You could try focusing on one detail to make it seem more lively,” Emily suggests one day. They’re working on a fruit still life and while Emily’s looks like fresh produce, Yumi’s looks wax-like. “Everything has a flaw or some defining characteristic.”

 

“Thanks, I was listening to Madame Bisset as well,” Yumi replies.

 

Emily shrugs and adjusts her glasses. “Forget I said anything,” she replies. She refocuses on her own canvas and Yumi wonders what flaw she found.

 

//

 

Yumi’s brush with music lasts one month and thankfully isn’t school-related, so no one knows how truly terrible she was. Her parents sign her up for piano lessons when she’s fourteen. She never has the time to practice though so it switches to an even briefer stint with the flute before ending with the violin. The less said about the violin, the better.

 

Not even Hiroki mentions the violin.

 

//

 

She gives up art classes at fifteen and switches to choir instead. Shannon takes choir and is always singing its praises. Yumi’s voice isn’t bad, she’s a solid mezzo-soprano which Shannon assures her is the most common.

 

It isn’t bad, at first. Odd takes to calling her their singing lark, which is to be expected. “At least Yumi’s voice is better than yours,” Ulrich replies.

 

“I have an excellent voice!” Odd protests.

 

“Sure, if you’re howling with dogs,” Jeremie replies. Odd sputters in protest and Yumi laughs as the boys tussle.

 

And singing isn’t bad, not really. She enjoys spending time practicing with Shannon and creating harmonies…but it’s also not that exciting. Sure, she gets to create a melody or harmony, but there’s nothing to show for it. She finds herself zoning out when it isn’t her turn to sing and then rushing to catch up when she realizes she missed her cue.

 

“Singing isn’t for everyone,” Shannon tells her. “Chorale singing, I mean. You’re good at singing, but maybe theater would be better?”

 

“Maybe,” Yumi agrees, “I’ll try it.”

 

//

 

Theater is somehow better and worse. She’s only in one play and though she enjoys shedding her own skin for someone else’s temporarily, it’s enough to put her off the whole endeavor. Partly from XANA attacks and returns, partly because she doesn’t click with the rest of the cast.  

 

. . … . .

 

“I figured it out,” Will states, licking the whisk she hands him.

 

“Figured what out?” she replies. She’s working on a bûche de noël and the rolling part is the hardest so that the cake doesn’t crack.

 

Will continues licking the fresh whipped cream, humming at the taste of cognac in the cream. “Why you like baking so much.”

 

“Really?” she asks. She inverts the tray on the confectioner sugar-dusted towel, carefully peeling the paper off the back of the chocolate cake. “Please, enlighten me.” Carefully, she begins rolling the warm cake into a log shape.

 

“Controlled creativity,” Will announces. Yumi pauses, looking up at him with arched eyebrows. “You,” he states,  gesturing toward her with the whisk, “like to be in control. Baking lets you do that.”

 

“Please,” she snorts. She sticks the rolled cake into the refrigerator to set and repeats the process with the second tray.

 

“You laugh, but you know it’s true.” She rolls her eyes as he jumps off the stool and wraps an arm around her waist. “You know it’s true,” he repeats, voice warm against her ear.

 

“Will, not now,” she protests.

 

“See, my point exactly.” He tosses the whisk into the sink and resumes his perch, watching her work. “Anytime you feel like control is slipping, you’re in here baking something delectable. What was it today, hm?” he asks.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She finishes wrapping the cake and adds it to the refrigerator. “Everyone needs a creative outlet.”

 

“Sure,” he agrees easily. “But this isn’t just about creativity, is it? You like being able to force ingredients to work together and create something else. You like being able to decide on the outcome. And the more upset you are the more fabulous your creations.”

 

“Will-”

 

“Look, you’re making meringue mushrooms now. Who even does that anymore?”

 

“Will.”

 

“What happened?” Will asks. His voice is soft, his hands gentle when he turns her away from the counter to face him. “Come on, you only pull out the meringue when something big happens,” he coaxes.

 

She laughs softly, presses a kiss to his mouth and tastes sweet buttercream. Will presses back, fingers looped around her wrist. She can feel his thumb rubbing circles over the black ink on her wrist. He presses her against the counter, coats them both in powdered sugar and flour. She feels herself relax, muscles uncoiling, and loses herself in the distraction.

 

. . … . .

 

She applies for a job at La Pâtisserie au Oiseaux on a whim. The manager doesn’t seem impressed, looking over her application critically. “You have never baked professionally?” he questions. He has the abrupt, almost nasal-sounding quality that she’s come to associate with Parisian French. She hasn’t decided if she likes it or not.

 

“No,” she agrees. “But I’ve been baking since I was seven.”

 

“But not on a grand scale,” he states. He taps a pen to his lip and studies her. “I will give you a trial,” he says. “Your qualifications are not good, but there is something about you.” He gestures to her face. “You might prove me wrong.”

 

“I intend to,” she retorts. He smiles at her then, instantly removing a decade of lines from around his face.

 

“Good,” he replies. “Georges will show you what to do.” He points to a boy around her age with dark blonde hair and a wide smile. She feels a pang, suddenly reminded of Odd. “You will be his problem. Come back tomorrow morning, six o’clock, you will start at the counter.”

 

//

 

She had shown up at a quarter to six and the manager had given a shake of his head when he saw her. “You are punctual at least. Georges!”

 

Georges was busy hefting flour sacks from the back into the baking room. Yumi joined him and he gave her a bright smile. “Bonjour,” he greeted.

 

“Good morning,” she replied. “I’m Yumi. The manager says I am to be your problem.”

 

Georges laughed and dusted his floured hands on his apron, held out a clean-ish one to her to shake, and kissed her on each cheek. “Ah, that is Maurice’s way. He thinks if he cracks a smile no one will take him serious. He says problem, I say pleasure.”

 

Georges wore a grin that whole first morning, and while he was constantly teasing his humor had a drier quality to it, more akin to Ulrich’s or Jeremie’s than to Odd’s. He showed her how to stock the shelves and run the old fashioned till at the front of shop.

 

At the end of her shift he gave her a box of fresh pastries and an over-the-top wink. “I was right, it’s been a pleasure, Yumi. You’ll fit in nicely here, I think.”

 

“I think so too,” she replied, smiling.

Chapter 21: Difference

20. Sometimes she saw very little difference between Jeremie and X.A.N.A.

 

Yumi isn’t sure when the thought first took root. Once, when the sky was beginning to turn that pale, dusty gray color of dawn, she had let her mind wander. She blames the lack of sleep, the stress of another close call, her upcoming math test on that first insidious thought.

 

Is there really that much of a difference between Jeremie and X.A.N.A.?

 

She’d thrown the mental door shut immediately on that thought, rolled over to stare out the window at silhouetted trees and a lone streetlight. That way lead madness. Jeremie was nothing like X.A.N.A. He was the complete opposite, the antithesis of the evil computer.

 

Her phone buzzed, Jeremie’s name flashing across the screen briefly. FYI practice run 4pm sharp.

 

But, she thought, what is the difference between devotion and obsession?

 

. . … . .

 

“We could use this,” Jeremie stated.

 

“I can’t believe you’re suggesting this,” Ulrich replied, shaking his head. “You were the biggest supporter of ditching Sissi and now you want me to use her?”

 

“Sometimes in war you have to get your hands dirty.”

 

“Do you hear yourself?” Ulrich demanded.

 

“Ulrich has a point,” Yumi stated.

 

“And so does Einstein,” Odd replied.

 

They were gathered on the empty bleachers, away from the general populace of the school who had all drifted indoors out of the cold air. Yumi could feel a headache coming on.

 

“This is insane,” Ulrich snapped.

 

“Look, we need a distraction and you were the genius who decided to get detention.”

“I didn’t decide-”

 

“Sissi likes you and it isn’t a secret. Play it up some in order to get out of detention tonight.”

 

“This is wrong,” Yumi repeated. She looked at Ulrich. “You aren’t seriously considering this, are you?”

 

“Sissi doesn’t oversee detention, that’s Jim. And I am not cozying up to Jim.”

 

“We all know Sissi will complain to Delmas and Delmas will have Jim let you off for good behavior. Come on, we need all of us for the test tonight.”

 

Ulrich glared and Yumi felt her temples throb. “Fine,” he agreed. “But just this one time.”

 

“Of course,” Jeremie agreed, looking relieved.

 

“You wanna practice what you’re going to say?” Odd questioned. “You’ll probably only have one shot, so better not mess it up.”

 

“Shut-up, Odd,” Ulrich groaned.

 

. . … . .

 

“We should shut it down immediately.”

 

“How can you say that?” Jeremie protested. “After all the time we’ve put into this, after everything we’ve done?”

 

“Someone died, Jeremie. A living, breathing, person died. We should shut it down immediately; this shouldn’t even be a discussion!” They had been having the same argument for the past thirty minutes, ever since they’d found Jeremie with his head in his hands.

 

“Yes, Yumi, someone died. And if we stop now that death will be in vain. And what about Aelita, you want to just abandon her?” Jeremie shoved his glasses up and looked over her shoulder. “Well, are you two going to say anything?”

 

Yumi turned, eyeing the other two boys. Odd scuffed the toe of his yellow sneakers against the factory floor, drawing lines through the dust. Ulrich shifted, hands in his pockets. “Jer has a point, Yumi,” he said finally.

 

“You are all unbelievable.”

 

“This is for the best,” Jeremie replied. “We’re so close.”

 

“We are playing with people’s lives.”

 

“We are trying to rescue Aelita!” She shook her head, turning for the door. “Yumi, come on! Yumi!”

 

//

 

“Go away, I’m not talking to you,” Yumi stated.

 

“You don’t have to talk,” Ulrich replied. He fell into step with her as she hurried home after school. “The funeral is tomorrow at eleven.” She stared ahead, kept her pace steady. “Jeremie, Odd, and I are going.”

 

She snorted. “Jeremie is going to the funeral? He said he didn’t want us anywhere near the family.”

 

“We aren’t going to the funeral, just the cemetery. It seems…right.”

 

“Nothing about this seems right, Ulrich.”

 

“Look, you don’t have to come, but I wanted you to know about it, just in case.”

 

She paused, tugging at the strap of her backpack. “Do you really agree with Jeremie about this? Lyoko is dangerous.”

 

“We knew what we were signing on for,” he replied. “We knew there would be dangers.”

 

“We knew this?”

 

“No, we didn’t. But Jer’s right in a way. We’ve done all this, the lying, the secrecy, the…well, everything I guess. We’ve done all of this to bring Aelita here and if we give up, then what was the point of it all? Phillippe Dumas will still be dead. If we manage to bring Aelita to our world, then maybe there would’ve been a reason for it.”

 

Yumi scrubbed a hand over her face, tucked her hair behind her ears. “I just don’t like it.”

 

“No one does, Yumi. We need you though; Odd and I can’t do it on our own.”

 

“I’ll meet you at the cemetery tomorrow at ten-thirty,” she replied. She caught Ulrich’s small smile and he reached up, squeezing her shoulder lightly. “I’m still not talking to you.”

 

“Of course not,” he agreed.

 

. . … . .

 

“This isn’t healthy,” Yumi stated, closing the door with a bang. Jeremie jerked from where he was half slumped over the keyboard. “You should go to bed.”

 

“I was just resting for a moment, I’m fine.”

 

“Jeremie, you’ve been working non-stop for weeks now on the materialization program.” Yumi crossed Jeremie’s room and peered over his shoulder at the code on the screen. “You’ll make more progress if you sleep.”

 

“I’ll take longer if I sleep,” he countered. He rubbed at his eyes and looked at the clock. “It’s seven already?”

 

“It is,” she agreed. “If I hadn’t stopped by you would have missed class.” Jeremie pursed his lips and she frowned. “Jeremie, you have to go to class. You’re becoming obsessed.”

 

“I’m so close though, I know it.” His eyes drifted back to the screen and Yumi had to cross her arms to keep from reaching out and closing the laptop screen.

 

“And waiting until the end of the day won’t kill you. Come on, breakfast first, then class, then saving the world.”

 

. . … . .

 

Odd still looked green when the scanner doors slid open, but he was smiling and laughing. He threw an arm around both Yumi and Aelita, and Yumi had to wonder how much of that was for show and how much was because he was still queasy from the trip to Sector Five. Aelita grinned back and wrapped her arm around Odd’s waist as they step into the elevator.

 

“Who needs Ulrich, huh? We totally beat X.A.N.A. without him,” Odd joked.

 

Yumi should have realized, should have known as soon as she’d stepped out of the scanner doors. Jeremie would have done a Return, even if it was risky, a runaway train was too noticeable to be left as it was. She should have known.

 

Instead, she was standing and laughing with the others as the doors slid open and they stepped out of the elevator into the supercomputer room. Jeremie’s face was stark in the light cast from the computer screen, his eyes obscured by the glare reflecting off his glasses.

 

“We can’t go back,” he stated. Yumi froze and Odd stumbled along with her.

 

“What? Why?” Aelita questioned. Her fingers clutched Odd’s shirt as Jeremie turned back to the computer screen. “Who?” she demanded.

 

“The conductor,” Jeremie replied. Yumi counted heartbeats, trying to calm the rushing in her ears. One…two…three…four…five… “We…we can’t, it’s impossible.”

 

“We were too slow,” Yumi stated. She felt odd, disconnected. Her shoulders slumped, her head felt light. She remembered that day, standing in this same room and learning that Phillippe Dumas would never get older than six years. She’s aware of Aelita sinking to the floor, pulling Odd with her, sobbing loudly. “We were too goddamn slow!” Yumi screamed and kicked a pile of scrap metal across the floor.

 

The echoing clangs briefly drowned out Aelita’s sobs. Jeremie looked away, shoulders hunched as he studied the computer screen. Odd cleared his throat. “Well, who tells Ulrich?”

 

//

 

“Yumi.”

 

“You promised,” Yumi snapped. “Phillippe was a one-time thing, a miscalculation.”

 

“What would you have had me do, Yumi?” Jeremie demanded. “I wasn’t on Lyoko and we were down a fighter, if you recall.”

 

“I don’t know, and don’t ever say that to Ulrich,” she replied. She tugged at her hair and stared at the glossy hospital tiles. “Don’t ever imply this is his fault, he won’t be able to handle it.”

 

“If he had come to Lyoko then maybe this wouldn’t have happened.” Jeremie adjusted his glasses and leaned against the wall next to her. “If we’d had another fighter…”

 

“It was his sister, Jeremie.”

 

“And what good did he do her top-side?” Yumi bristled and Jeremie sighed, head hanging. “I don’t want to fight. It’s no one’s fault, and we don’t know what would have happened one way or the other,” he stated, voice quiet. “We did what we had to do.”

 

“I thought all of this was supposed to end when Aelita was here, with us.”

 

Jeremie gives her a bleak look. “So did I, Yumi.”

 

//

 

Odd was lounging in one of the café chairs when she walked up. He had a cup of coffee and half a plate of pastries in front of him. She wondered how long he had been waiting. “You’ve looked better,” he greeted her.

 

“Those better be for me.” She dropped her bag at her feet and sank into the chair across from him. Wordlessly, he slid the plate of pastries over to her but kept the coffee clutched in his hands.

 

“I’m here,” he told her, voice hushed. She felt the tears threaten again and ate an éclair instead. “Well, apparently Monet truly pissed off someone because they replaced her shampoo with a shocking shade of red hair dye. I’m telling you, Little Mermaid-red. Her screams could be heard in our building. Jim about had a heart attack.”

 

Yumi felt herself smile and Odd flagged down a waitress, ordered another coffee and a mint tea. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

 

“You know nothing,” Odd replied, sipping at his coffee. “I hear Milly and Tamiya managed to snap a photo of the damage before Monet sequestered herself in her room. I imagine she may grace tomorrow’s Chronicle unless something else happens.”

 

She rubbed at her eyes and ate another pastry. The waitress set the coffee and tea down with a soft clatter. Everything felt normal, everything felt wrong. Yumi shivered and pulled her sleeves down, rubbed idly at the inked initials and dates on her wrist.

 

“He promised, Odd. We promised. And now…”

 

“And now we deal with it,” Odd replied. “We’re human, Yumi. The stupid part about being human is you make mistakes. The great part is you get to learn from them.” He shrugged and kicked at the empty chair between them. “Faen, we’re not even sixteen years old. I think we’ve done pretty good for ourselves.”

 

She tugged at her sleeves again, wrapped her hands around the warm teacup in front of her. “Jeremie won’t like it but I want to get a tattoo, to remember this.”

 

Odd leaned back, stared up at the sky. “Einstein won’t like it,” he agreed. “But, I think I know someone who can help.”

 

“You do?”

 

“If you’re serious,” he met her eyes again, “if you really want to do this. Yeah, I can arrange it.”

 

“I do, I need to.”

 

He nodded, took a crème puff in hand and popped it into his mouth. “I’ll take care of everything, okay?”

 

“Okay.”

Chapter 22: Lullaby

21. They never talked about it but sometimes, late at night when the fighting grew louder, Hiroki slipped silently between her sheets and she hummed old Japanese lullabies until he fell back to sleep.

 

There were three things she knew about her parents, without a doubt:

 

1. They loved her and Hiroki unconditionally.
2. They loved each other as much as they were able to.
3. The fact that they still got angry meant that they still cared about each other.

 

. . … . .

 

Hiroki cries and cries through his first year of life. It makes her mother more frazzled, already at loose ends from lack of sleep. Her father is tired from work and the baby gives him a headache. He retreats to the back patio to unwind while her mother yells after him. Hiroki cries harder, louder, to be heard over the yelling.

 

Yumi hums a lullaby her grandmother taught her, dangles a plush toy bear over the side of his crib. The baby isn’t the doll she was promised, but he’s getting more interesting the more he grows. Hiroki stares up at the plush toy, reaches out clumsily and knocks tiny fists against the toy.

 

“I’ll give it to you,” she tells him, “but you have to stop crying.” Her baby brother reaches for the toy again and she gives it to him. “There, see?” she asks. “You don’t have to cry all the time.”

 

. . … . .

 

Yumi is nine when she learns about Morse Code in history class. She and Hina take to it immediately, memorizing the chart, adding their own modifications and shorthands, and tapping out coded messages across the classroom or while at each other’s houses.

 

“Yumi, can you stop that tapping? I just got Hiroki down for a nap,” her mother snaps. Yumi rolls her eyes, taps out a message that has Hina ducking her head to hide her smile behind her long hair. “I’m serious, Yumi, I have a deadline coming up and don’t need to deal with him being fussy.”

 

Right on cue, Hiroki stumbles out of the bedroom, rubbing his eyes and pouting. Yumi groans and ignores her mother’s glare. Hiroki has always been a fussy child, especially if he’s woken up before he’s ready.

 

“Take your brother into the garden to play.”

 

“What? Why?” Yumi protests.

 

“I have work and you woke him. Go on.”

 

Yumi rolls her eyes but grabs her little brother’s hand. “Come on,” she says, tugging him along. Hiroki whines and pouts until Hina and Yumi share a look. “If you behave, we’ll teach you something cool,” Yumi tells him.

 

“Really?” he asks, eyes them suspiciously.

 

“Really,” Hina promises. “Only big kids know it. But it’s a secret, you can’t tell anyone.”

 

“Especially Mom or Dad,” Yumi adds. She holds out a hand, pinky extended. “Promise?”

 

Hiroki bites his lip and studies both of them before he grins and wraps his own pinky around Yumi’s. “Promise!”

 

Hina smiles back, picks up a stick, and begins tapping lightly against the side of the small garden shed.

 

//

 

Yumi isn’t sure what sets off the fight two days later. It’s a rainy day, Hiroki pouts about being stuck indoors and her mother is glued to the computer, working on editing an article. Yumi spends the day curled up in her room reading Peter Pan and organizing her closet.

 

Her father comes home later than usual, face lined and tired. Hiroki bounces around his ankles like an excited terrier. Yumi can hear the commotion from her room. She peeks her head out into the hallway and ducks back in. Her parents have that look about them again.

 

Dinner is stilted, tense. Her father asks her about school, comments on the toughness of the noodles, chastises Hiroki for spilling his cup again. Her mother’s mouth tightens and Yumi shovels more food into her mouth. “Yumi, do not stuff yourself,” her mother instructs. Yumi nods, chews slowly.

 

“She’s hungry, it’s late,” her father responds.

 

“And who’s fault is that?” her mother questions.

 

Yumi clears the dishes quickly while her parents sit in stony silence. She kisses them each on the cheek before retreating to her room for the night. Hiroki trails her and she doesn’t say anything when he climbs into the bed next to her.

 

He is too big for lullabies, but she runs her fingers through his hair and hums softly. She switches to words when the arguing starts, and lets the melody trail off as Hiroki snores softly. She listens to the thunder rumbling outside and the storm crashing inside, and doesn’t fall asleep for a long while.

 

. . … . .

 

France is an adjustment.

 

Yumi still hasn’t forgiven her mother for the lies she told. It is not better. She misses Hina, she misses Kaito. She misses visiting her aunt on Sundays, she misses the sweet, crisp taste of melonpan. Whatever truce her parents had agreed to lasts for three glorious weeks – long enough for her to begin to relax.

 

It ends in a crash of broken dishes and angry voices. Her father slams the door shut and does not come back. Yumi sits in her bed, knees drawn up and textbook discarded. Faintly, she hears a tap, tap, tap on the wall behind her head. She taps back quietly.

 

When her door opens a few minutes later, she isn’t surprised to see Hiroki. His hair is tousled, and he still has that air of sleepiness around him. Wordlessly, she lifts the corner of her quilt. Hiroki pads quietly across her room and crawls into bed next to her.

 

She wraps an arm around him, rests her chin atop his head. “I thought they were done fighting,” Hiroki protests.

 

“So did I,” she agrees.

 

“If they hate each other so much, why do they stay?”

 

“Don’t say that, they love each other. You’ll see, tomorrow will be back to normal. If they didn’t argue, then you’d know they hated each other. Arguing shows that they still want what’s best.”

 

“They could do it quieter,” Hiroki protests. He burrows closer and Yumi hums an old lullaby her mother used to sing, listens to her mother’s muffled voice and clanking china.

 

//

 

In the morning Yumi is filling a bowl with cereal while her mother wrestles Hiroki into his school clothes upstairs. She looks up as the front door clicks open and sees her father, still in last night’s rumpled suit, enter the house. He is holding a white pastry box in his hands. He looks tired when he faces her.

 

“Yumi,” he greets.

 

“Good morning,” she replies.

 

Her mother comes down the stairs then, eyes shadowed dark from a sleepless night. She pauses on the stairs when she sees Yumi’s father. “Akiko,” her father says.

 

“Takeyo,” her mother replies. And then her mother hurries down the rest of the stairs, slaps her father’s shoulder, and then wraps him in a hug. “Do not do that again! I was worried all night!”

 

“I am sorry,” her father states. He hugs her mother, holding the pastries out of harm’s way.

 

Yumi meets Hiroki’s eyes from where he’s paused on the stairs. Told you, she mouths at him.

 

. . … . .

 

“Alright, so since we’re all going to be working together, we should get to know each other,” Odd announces. He flops onto the ground and twists so that he’s still watching them. Yumi and Jeremie exchange a look as Odd waits expectantly. “No volunteers? I’ll go first.”

 

“Is this really necessary?” Ulrich questions. He’s sitting cross-legged on the ground, tossing a small hacky sack ball back and forth.

 

“Yes, Ulrich-dear. If I’m leaving my life in your hands then I want to know who’s hands those are.”

 

Ulrich rolls his eyes and Jeremie shakes his head. Yumi scuffs her foot against the late summer grass. They’d convened in her backyard after school in order to discuss the next steps.

 

“So, as we know, my name’s Odd, I’m a Cancer and enjoy long walks- Ow!” he yelps as Ulrich throws the hacky sack at his head.

 

“Be serious,” Ulrich admonishes.

 

Odd sticks his tongue out, throwing bits of ripped up grass at Ulrich. Jeremie gives a long-suffering sigh and adjusts his glasses. “I like robots,” he states.

 

“Yeah?” Odd asks, looking up. “Like mecha?”

 

Jeremie shrugs, ducks his head to hide the faint pink tinge coloring his cheeks. “I think they’re interesting, all types. You’re essentially creating something that has the potential to be alive, especially if you look into AI technology. I’m in the robotics club.”

 

“That’s really cool,” Odd replies. “Do you think you could create a robot that does homework?” Jeremie rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “What about you, football star? Typical jock or do you have other interests?”

 

Ulrich frowns and retrieves the hacky sack from where it had rolled away from Odd. “I’m an open book,” he replies with a shrug.

 

Odd frowns at him. “Somehow I doubt that. No one is an open book.”

 

Ulrich shrugs again and then three pairs of eyes are suddenly focused on her. Yumi flushes and rests her chin on her raised knees. “I used to live in Japan,” she replies.

 

“That explains the accent,” Odd nods.

 

“As if you’re one to talk,” Jeremie retorts. Odd just grins and ignores him.

 

“That’s about it,” Yumi adds.

 

“There’s gotta be more,” Odd presses. “How did you learn to do that thing with the fans?”

 

Yumi shrugs and picks at a loose thread. “I don’t know, I just did it. How about you and the flips?”

 

Odd’s grin widens. “Ah, well, I, my dear Yumers, am full of surprises.”

 

“Don’t call me that,” she snaps. That’s her mistake, she realizes as she watches Odd grin. The best way to get Odd to do what you want is to not react. Before she can protest further she hears the raised voices coming from the kitchen. The boys all look over toward the kitchen door curiously. “It’s just my parents,” she states. “You should probably go.”

 

“You sure?” Ulrich asks, staring over her shoulder at the house.

 

“I’m sure, it’s fine. I’ll see you tomorrow for practice.”

 

Odd is frowning as they get to their feet. She leads them to the garden gate, to spare them the explosion going on indoors, and smiles brightly at them. “You sure you’re okay?” he asks, voice more subdued than she’s heard before.

 

“I’m sure, they get like this sometimes. No big deal.”

 

//

 

Ulrich is still watching her when they pause for a water break. Yumi raises her eyebrows at him before setting her water bottle aside. “Do I have something on my face?” she asks.

 

Ulrich flushes and shakes his head. “No, no. You look good, fine. Normal, I mean.” Her eyebrows climb higher and he shrugs and sits on the mat next to her. “How did the fight go?”

 

“The fight?”

 

“Between your parents.”

 

“Oh,” she shrugs and ties her hair back. “It was nothing, you should hear it when they’re really upset,” she replies with a laugh.

 

Ulrich nods and fiddles with the clasp on his bottle. “If you ever want to talk about it, I’ll listen,” he says finally.

 

Yumi tilts her head, studies him for a moment. She reaches out and squeezes his shoulder. “Thanks, but it’s fine, Ulrich. Sometimes they yell at each other, they’ve done it as far back as I can remember.” She shrugs. “Sometimes it’s the only way they can communicate with each other.”

 

Ulrich is quiet, watching her with an expression she can’t decipher. After a moment he shakes his head and rolls his shoulders. “Come on, we should have time for another round,” he states. He gets to his feet and offers her his hand.

 

She takes his hand, allows him to pull her up to her feet. She feels off that last match though, too slow with muddled thoughts. Ulrich’s movements are careful like he can tell, his expression guarded. Yumi isn’t surprised when she loses in the end.

 

. . … . .

 

“You’re too old for this,” Yumi groans. She rolls over as Hiroki crawls into her bed.

 

“They’re fighting again,” Hiroki mumbles. “Couldn’t sleep.”

 

Yumi rolls her eyes and checks her phone. “It’s two in the morning, how are they fighting?”

 

Hiroki’s shoulders hitch briefly and he curls up with his back to her. “You can’t hear them from here. They’re in the kitchen arguing. I think it’s money problems this time.”

 

“Dad’s working overtime, it’ll be fine,” Yumi murmurs. She reaches out, runs her fingers lightly through Hiroki’s shaggy hair. He’s thirteen now, he really is too old to crawl into her bed because of an argument.

 

“Do you think Dad’s company will do lay-offs?” he asks.

 

“I think you shouldn’t worry about it. Whatever happens, happens. We’ll get through it.” Hiroki shifts and Yumi lets her fingers tug lightly at his hair. “Go to sleep, Hiroki. I have a math test in the morning.”

 

“Yumi,” Hiroki murmurs as she’s drifting back to sleep.

 

“What?”

 

“Can you…do you mind…?”

 

She sighs and finger-combs his hair, hums the lullaby she should have forgotten ages ago. Hiroki relaxes next to her, breathing evening out. Yumi lies awake, listening to raised voices and long silences, and doesn’t sleep.

Chapter 23: Darkness

Notes:

I hope everyone has a happy and healthy new year. Stay safe out there, folks.

22. Sometimes in between kisses she saw the darkness return to Will's eyes.

 

“What are you doing?” Yumi questions.

 

William shifts and meets her eyes in the mirror. “Hey,” he states. He turns to face her. “I didn’t see you there.”

 

“Obviously,” she replies. She frowns at him, hip resting against the open doorway. “You turning into Narcissus there?”

 

He cracks a smile and runs a hand through his hair. “Nah, just good to be back, you know?”

 

“Yeah, imagine it would be.” She pushes off the door and wanders over to him, grips his chin to tilt it. He meets her eyes steadily, dark and glittering with amusement. “You look normal-ish.”

 

“Only –ish?” he jokes.

 

“Well, your head’s still a bit big.” She releases his chin and gives him a smile. “It’s good to have you back.”

 

“So, is this a social call?”

 

“We’re meeting in twenty minutes, Jeremie wanted me to see if you were interested in joining.”

 

His smile widens, slow and self-assured. “Yeah, I’ll check out the team bonding.”

 

“You sure? Wouldn’t want to cut into your renewed social life.”

 

He laughs and shakes his head. “Not much of a social life if you aren’t there.”

 

Yumi rolls her eyes, shoves him lightly on the shoulder, and then head’s out the door. She pauses in the doorway, looking back at him. Will’s staring at his reflection again and she frowns, bites her lip. “Coming?” she asks.

 

“Yeah, of course. Wouldn’t want to leave a lady waiting.” The smile is self-assured, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. She watches him out of the corner of her eye as they head down the hallway.

 

. . … . .

 

“Do you ever feel…not like yourself?” Will asks, voice soft.

 

Yumi frowns, looking at him curiously. “What do you mean?” Will doesn’t meet her eyes, staring over her head at the trees on the other side of the field. “Will?”

 

“Nothing, just forget it.”

 

Yumi reaches up, touches his cheek and turns his face to meet his eyes. “What’s wrong?” she asks.

 

Will’s eyes are distant, staring at something she can’t see. She lets her fingers rest against his skin, frowning up at him. “Will,” she repeats. “Talk to me.”

 

He looks at her and blinks slowly. “How do you know you’re you?” he asks.

 

She looks away, crossing her arms over her chest, and stares out at the soccer field. “I don’t know…I just do.” She takes a breath, watching a plastic bag blowing over the grass. “What was it like?”

 

Will stares at his clasped hands, head hanging so the hair obscures his face. “I wish I could say,” he replies. “It was like being awake, but dreaming at the same time. Or, watching things through the fog or water. You see things, but it isn’t clear, and everything sounds muffled.”

 

She shivers. “It sounds terrible.”

 

Will scuffs his shoe against the metal bleachers, drawing Yumi’s eyes. “Sometimes I didn’t mind so much. It was nice, just floating.”

 

“And other times?”

 

Wills hand wraps around hers, cold and slightly clammy. She meets his eyes, sees the dark glints half obscured by strands of hair. “I never wanted to hurt you, Yumi.”

 

She looks away, tracks the plastic bag once more. Will squeezes her hand and she squeezes back reflexively. “I know,” she says quietly. “It wasn’t you, Will, it’s okay.” Will doesn’t say anything further and she can’t bring herself to pull away, just squeezes tighter when he resumes studying his shoes.

 

. . … . .

 

“One day you’ll tell me what these mean, won’t you?” Will asks, mouthing along the ink on her wrist.

 

Yumi shivers but doesn’t respond.

 

“Yumi? Come on, I want to learn all your secrets.”

 

She laughs, pushes at his shoulder lightly. “They wouldn’t be secrets if I told you,” she murmurs.

 

Will meets her eyes, eyes that are dark and shadowed and send a shiver down her spine. “We shouldn’t have secrets from each other.” His hand tightens around her wrist and she narrows her eyes at him. “Didn’t we agree on no secrets?”

 

“You agreed,” she replies. She pulls at her arm, grunts as he shoves her back against the bed. He runs the back of his knuckles along her cheek, across her jaw, down her neck. His fingers fan out, palm resting on her collarbone and fingers curled and resting on her throat. “Will.”

 

He blinks, smiles lazily at her. She feels his thumb brush over the necklace at her throat, feels her blood pumping in her carotid. “Do you trust me?” he asks.

 

She studies his face, the small scar at the corner of his lip, the gray smudges ringing his dark eyes. She reaches up, fingers tangling in his hair to pull him down until they’re sharing the same breath. “Of course I do,” she replies.

 

She tugs him down further before he can continue speaking. She presses close, mouth hungry against his. She loses track of the minutes, but when Will pulls away for a breath, his eyes are light and laughing once again and there’s that mischievous, self-satisfied smirk firmly in place once more. She smiles back at him.

 

. . … . .

 

“I love you,” Will murmurs, breath warm against her ear.

 

She feels her chest tighten, her own breathing coming in staggered gulps. She turns, presses her forehead to his and stares at where their hands are tangled together.

 

“You don’t have to say anything,” he tells her. His fingers tighten around hers and she lifts her eyes to meet his. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, brushing the hair from her face.

 

 “Will…”

 

“It’s okay, Yumi,” he replies. His fingers tangle in her hair and she searches his eyes, sees the glint in their dark depths. “It’s okay,” he repeats.

 

She presses close, kisses him as hard as she can. Maybe, hopefully, he can feel the words she can’t say. She pulls back, studies his face carefully. There’s a curve to his mouth, it doesn’t reach his eyes though. She reaches up, smooths her thumbs along his eyebrows, easing the frown lines between them.

 

“Okay,” she whispers. She presses tight again, fingers threaded through his hair and kisses him again, again, again.

 

. . … . .

 

“Yumi.”

 

She turns, sees Will leaning against the side of the building. “Hey, Will,” she replies. “How have you been?”

 

He laughs, pushes off from the wall and bumps his shoulder against hers. “You’re acting like I didn’t see you in the cafeteria this morning. C’mon, I thought we were past the weird small talk by now. You look good.”

 

She smiles in spite of herself, bumps her shoulder back. “Okay, you’re right. Thank you.” He slings an arm around her shoulders and pulls her into a hug. “Can you believe we’re through with Kadic?”

 

“And good riddance, right?” he asks. “So, why are you skulking over here in the shadows instead of celebrating with your family and friends?” He jerks his chin toward where the rest of the gang are chatting with her family.

 

“Just needed a breather,” she replies. She leans into his arm and glances around. “What about you? You aren’t with your family?”

 

He shrugs and looks around, not meeting her eyes. “Eh, not really their scene, you know?”

 

“Will…”

 

“It’s good, Yumi.” He gives her a smile, tugs on a strand of her hair. “And we’re good, yeah? In spite of everything, and I mean everything, it was a good run.”

 

She glances up at him, studies his expression intently. Will offers her a crooked smile, eyes dancing as he looks at her. “We did, huh?”

 

“Looks like they’re waiting for you.” She looks over to where her parents are chatting with Shannon’s. She sees Aelita and Ulrich looking toward where she and Will are standing. “Don’t be a stranger.”

 

“You either.”

Chapter 24: Fight

23. Until the day she died she would never admit that she was happy Hiroki was in that accident (it made the fighting stop).

 

Her earliest memory of her parents’ fighting is when she was four. Her mother was pregnant with her baby brother, though she wasn’t really sure what that meant besides her mother getting rounder and more prone to yelling. And she was supposed to be getting a new playmate in a few months, like a doll but alive. But, she’d been told, more fragile than her usual dolls. More like the collectible ones on the top shelf at her grandmother’s house, the ones she couldn’t touch. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to have a new playmate if she couldn’t touch it.  

 

That first fight, she had been lying in bed, staring up at her ceiling and listening to her parents yell in the living room. Her mother’s voice was angry, wet with tears. Her father’s was loud and controlled, sharp and cutting. She heard something crash and a door slam.

 

They had been arguing about her baby brother’s name.

 

. . … . .

 

Yumi is seven when she runs away from home. She doesn’t run far, in the grand scheme of things, but she does make it two streets over to where Hina lived. Hina’s mother had opened the door, taken a look at the stubborn set to Yumi’s jaw, the furrowed eyebrows, and let her in before ringing her parents.

 

Hina grins when she sees her, grabs her hand and drags her away upstairs to play pretend. Hina’s mother appears in the doorway after they’ve both donned dress-up clothes and are bouncing around Hina’s small room. Hina looks up, pout already in place. “It’s not time for Yumi to go, is it?” she whines.

 

“No,” Hina’s mother replies. She kneels down in front of Yumi, adjusts the hat she’s wearing so that it doesn’t fall in her face. “Would you like to stay the night, Yumi?”

 

“Yes, please.”

 

That night, she lays awake in Hina’s bed and stares at the shadows dancing across Hina’s ceiling. Hina turns over next to her, pokes her in the shoulder. “Go to sleep, Yumi.”

 

“Do your parents fight?” she asks. She turns and can make out Hina’s face in the glow from the night light next to the bed. Her friend’s face is drawn, bottom lip pulled in between her teeth and eyes curious. “Do they get mad?”

 

“Of course,” Hina replies. She shrugs and then adjusts the blanket. “You always fight with the people you love, right?” It’s Yumi’s turn to shrug. “You love Hiroki, right?”

 

“Yeah, I guess.”

 

“But you got mad when he colored in that book you like,” Hina continues. “Mad comes with love, right? Right?”

 

“Guess so,” Yumi replies. She turns over, yawning. “Night, Hina.”

 

“Night, Yumi.”

 

. . … . .

 

“You know it’s around 13 degrees out?” Shannon asks. Yumi lets her shoulders lift and fall listlessly. Shannon drops onto the swing next to her and offers Yumi the coffee in her hands. “It’ll warm you up.”

 

“I’m not cold.”

 

“Okay.”

 

They sit quietly and she studies the tracks in the sand. Idly, she turns her cell phone over in her hands, flips it open to check her messages, the battery life. Shannon sips at her coffee silently. She chances a glance at her finally, sees Shannon staring across the playground to where Hiroki is playing with a brown-haired boy his own age. She can’t remember his name, Jimmy or Johnny or Jean or something.  

 

“What are you doing here?” she asks.

 

“Sitting, enjoying the company.” Shannon slides a gaze over to her. “You want to talk about it?”

 

“Not much to say,” she replies.

 

“I stopped by your house to see if you wanted to study for the history test together,” Shannon says, voice soft and even. Yumi feels her shoulders tighten, but Shannon is playing with the end of her grey-and-purple scarf, not looking at her. “Figured you’d be here when I heard the yelling.”

 

“And you were right,” she murmurs. “They were still at it, huh?”

 

Shannon is quiet long enough that she lifts her head to look over again. She’s staring off at the far trees circling the playground area. “Sounded that way from the porch,” she says finally. She looks at her and Yumi nods, feels Shannon’s hand squeeze her arm. “If you ever want to talk, I’m here, okay?”

 

She nods, looks over to where the younger boys are fighting each other with sticks. She appreciates the offer, truly, but she knows it’s not something Shannon would understand.

 

. . … . .

 

Yumi is seventeen when she comes home from school to find her parents fighting. She isn’t sure what started the fight, but they are in the kitchen and she hears angry, muffled Japanese through the closed door. Rolling her eyes, she kicks her shoes off at the door and then takes the stairs two at a time.

 

She knocks on Hiroki’s closed door and gets no response. Shrugging, she wanders into her room, taps out u ok on the wall between their desks. Still no response and she knows he’s probably huddled in bed with his new noise-cancelling headphones on and some video game playing. Sometimes she wonders how he manages to pass any of his classes.

 

She puts her own headphones in, cranks up Odd’s newest music recommendation, and pulls out her laptop to work on her essay. Will texts her periodically, mostly nonsense limericks and poems that make her laugh and blush. Aelita emails her a recipe she wants to try for Girl’s Night. She hesitates, sends Ulrich a quick text. She isn’t checking up on him, she’s just making sure he’s in the right headspace.

 

Jeremie calls at eight and she picks up immediately as she scans her essay for the third time. “Stop freaking out,” she says.

 

“I’m not freaking out,” he protests. “I’m just evaluating all options.”

 

“Aelita will say yes. You know this.”

 

“But what if she doesn’t want to go out with me?”

 

Yumi thunks her head into her hand and saves her essay before she forgets. “Jeremie, come on. It’s you and Aelita, you two were made for each other. You’ve been making doe-eyes at each other for years.”

 

“You sound like Odd,” Jeremie mutters darkly.

 

That makes her pause and she frowns. “Did you ask Odd for advice?”

 

“I didn’t have to ask,” Jeremie says after a lengthy pause. “He freely volunteers his opinions.” That sounds more normal, so Yumi nods even though Jeremie can’t see her. “I just don’t want to mess this up, Yumi.”

 

“Look, taking that leap of faith is scary, but it’ll work out, you’ll see. And if it doesn’t and she says no? Then you know. I mean, I said no to Ulrich plenty of times before we eventually got together.” She pauses. “Wait, that may not be the best example. We didn’t work out, but we don’t regret it either, okay?”

 

“Uh huh,” Jeremie replies, voice thick with doubt.

 

“We don’t,” she promises. There’s a knock on her door before it opens and her mother looks in, face half shadowed from the hall light. Yumi frowns. “Hold on,” she says into the phone. “Mom?”

 

“Yumi, did Hiroki tell you he was going out?”

 

“Out?” Yumi repeats, frown deepening. “Isn’t he in his room playing video games?”

 

Her mother shakes her head. “No, your father and I can’t find him.”

 

//

 

Two officers from the gendarmerie shows up around ten, when it’s clear that Hiroki isn’t in the house and Johnny swears up and down over the phone that he hasn’t seen Hiroki since school ended. Yumi paces the living room while the officers ask questions and look around.

 

“And what were you doing?” the woman asks. “While your parents were having a discussion in the kitchen? Did you see your brother at all?”

 

Yumi shakes her head, tugs her hair into a ponytail. “No,” she says. “I knocked on his door…I thought he was playing video games,” she says. She pulls her hair loose again and looks at her parents.

 

Her mother is sitting at the kitchen table, her father standing statuesque behind her. He has his hands on her shoulders and her mother is clutching one of his hands, her face pale and haunted. Yumi has to look away and her attention is drawn to the male officer descending the stairs, holding her brother’s backpack in his hands.

 

“This is Hiroki’s?” he asks.

 

“Yes,” she says immediately. “For school.”

 

“Are any of his belongings missing?” the woman asks.

 

Her father shakes his head and her mother reaches for a cup of tea. “No, nothing. Our son did not run away.”

 

Yumi sinks into the recliner and pulls out her phone to check her messages again. Still nothing from her brother. “What about his bike?” she asks. “Is it still here? I don’t remember if it was on the porch when I got home.”

 

The male officer shakes his head. “There wasn’t a bike when we arrived.”

 

“Our son did not run away,” her father repeats “He has no reason to run away.”

 

. . … . .

 

“How’s Hiroki?” Ulrich asks. They wander away from Kadic, heading toward the park out of habit. Yumi shrugs, stuffs her hands into her hoodie pouch.

 

“He’s alright,” she says finally. “He has some issues getting around still, and complains about the crutches all the time.” She lets out a laugh. “It’s actually annoying, but I’m happy to be annoyed, you know?”

 

Ulrich bumps her shoulder with his. “I understand,” he replies.

 

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and sighs. Hiroki has been home for three days from his brief clinic stay. It had taken the gendarmerie and a rescue team four hours to locate her brother, finding him in a ditch near the wooded area after his bike had been struck by a car that didn’t stop. The fact that he’d only suffered a broken leg and few contusions had been miracle enough.

 

“How’s Annie doing, is she still in physical therapy?” she asks.

 

He nods. “She’s okay, thanks. She has a few more sessions, but she’s been able to play again so I think her hands will be okay. Except one finger, maybe.” They enter the park and skirt the playground. “He’ll be okay too.”

 

“If I had gone home earlier and not stayed to study with Shannon…”

 

“Then what?” Ulrich asks. “It was an accident, Yumi. And the jackass who didn’t stop after hitting a kid on a bike? That’s the person to blame.”

 

She lets her hand run along the shrubs, ignoring the cold and prickly sticks scratching her palms. “My parents were fighting and he left to get away from it,” she says, voice soft. “He hates it when they fight and I didn’t even try to look in on him, not really.”

 

“And that’s not your fault, Yumi,” Ulrich says. They pause at the fork, left loops back around and right branches off to the road she takes home. “You aren’t responsible for fixing your parents’ mistakes.”

 

She laughs, voice brittle in the cold air. “Yeah? When did you get all wise and knowing?”

 

He smiles at her, nudges her again with his shoulder. “Life experience, I guess,” he replies. “Tell the kid I hope he feels better. If he’s up for it we can do a game night.”

 

“He’d like that,” she replies, smiling.

 

Ulrich reaches out, hand warm through her hoodie, and meets her eyes. “He’ll be fine, Yumi. You both will.”

 

//

 

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Hiroki asks. Yumi looks up from where she’s doodling koi fish around his cast. Hiroki’s attention is captured by their parents out on the back deck. She sees her mother laugh and her heart constricts. “They haven’t fought in a month. They’ve never gone this long before.”

 

“They’re happy you’re home safe,” she replies. She ducks her head, lets her hair obscure her face as she colors in one of the fish.

 

“Yeah, I’m sure they were all torn up about it,” he replies with an eye roll.

 

Yumi looks up and studies her brother through the gaps in her hair. He’s still watching their parents. He’s thirteen now and is losing the childish roundness to his features. His hair is longer now, constantly falling into his eyes and their father has given up fighting with him about a haircut. She can see their mother’s smile in the tilt of his mouth, their father’s drive in the set of his dark eyes.

 

She reaches out and touches his chin, turns his face so their eyes meet. “You didn’t see them,” she murmurs. “Even at the clinic, you were in shock and delirious from the cold and injury. They were frightened, Hiroki. We all were.”

 

Hiroki’s mouth thins, his chin juts in the way their mother’s does when she feels cornered. Yumi remembers their mother’s haunted eyes, the pale trembling hands reaching for a cup of tea. She remembers their father’s quiet stoicism, the way his hand gripped their mother’s shoulder and the resolute tone of voice when he insisted Hiroki wouldn’t have run away.

 

“Were you running?” she asks, searching his eyes.

 

Hiroki rolls his eyes and jerks his head away. “I wasn’t running away, Yumi,” he grumbles. He fiddles with his video game controller. “I just wanted to get some peace, you know? That’s it.”

 

She glances at where their parents are still chatting outside while their father grills. “Well, appreciate it while it lasts, then,” she says finally. Hiroki snorts and resumes his video game and she turns her attention back to the koi fish.

 

. . … . .

 

The graduation ceremony is small, not as elaborate as the American ones she’s seen in movies. She’s exhausted from the week of testing, but also happy to finally be done with school and heading to University. Delmas gives a small speech in the auditorium for graduates and their guests, and then there are hors d’oeuvres set up on the field for families to pick from as they mingle.

 

Shannon grins when she finds her, red curls loose and shining in the summer sun. Yumi hugs her tightly. “I’m going to miss you,” Shannon states.

 

“I’ll miss you too,” she replies. “It’s not too late to come to Paris,” she jokes.

 

Shannon laughs and shakes her head. “I’m tired of the cold. Marseille is good enough for me,” she replies. She loops an arm through Yumi’s and leads her toward where their families are chatting. “I saw you speaking with Will.”

 

“Yes,” Yumi replies. “We’re friends.”

 

Shannon shakes her head. “Sometimes I don’t understand you,” she says.

 

“That’s okay,” Yumi laughs.

 

Shannon smiles again before she’s drawn into conversation with her parents and younger sister. Yumi joins Ulrich and Aelita, accepting the hug from Aelita with a smile. Hiroki looks bored next to her parents and she smiles at him.

 

“Yumers!” Odd crows. Aelita dodges to the side as Odd throws himself onto Yumi, twirling in a hug. “Our girl’s all grown up and off to explore the world!” he adds.

 

“Odd, stop being embarrassing,” she complains. The words fall flat by her laughter and she ignores the looks being sent their way. “Let me go!”

 

Odd releases her after planting two smacking kisses to each of her cheeks. Ulrich grabs Odd by the back of his shirt, yanking him into place next to him. “At least we got him to wait until after the speech,” Jeremie says. Aelita nods.

 

“Thank you for that,” she replies. She straightens her dress, touches her hair self-consciously.

 

“You look fine, Odd didn’t slobber on you too much,” Ulrich replies. He sidesteps the punch to the shoulder from Odd and smiles. “Congratulations.”

 

“Thank you, and thank you all for coming.”

 

“Well, it wasn’t too long of a commute,” Odd replies.

 

“Of course we’d be here,” Aelita chimes in. “We wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

 

Yumi hears her mother laugh and turns to look at her parents. They’re still chatting with Shannon’s family, but her father has an arm around her mother’s shoulders and they’re both smiling and proud. As she watches, her mother reaches over and adjusts her father’s tie. She looks away, feeling her vision blur and unable to explain why.

 

Ulrich catches her eye, then her hand. He squeezes lightly. “I told you, you’d be fine,” he says, voice quiet amid all the excited chattering.

 

//

 

Hiroki flops onto her bed while she’s sorting the clothes in her closet. She frowns at him as he disrupts her pile of sweatshirts and they topple to the floor. “Can I help you?” she asks.

 

“It’s not fair,” he whines.

 

She rolls her eyes, stooping to grab the fallen sweatshirts. She drops them on his head as she moves back to the closet. “What are you talking about?”

 

“You get to leave and I have to stay here in the twilight zone.”

 

She pauses, a pair of jeans in her hands, and looks over to him. He’s shaken off the hoodies and is using them as a pillow now. “Come again?”

 

“Mom and dad, they haven’t fought in months and it’s weird.”

 

Yumi purses her lips and walks over, sits next to him as she folds her jeans. “You didn’t like the fighting,” she reminds him.

 

“Yeah, but that was normal,” he protests.

 

“You’re never going to be happy, are you?” she asks, shaking her head. “You should be thrilled that they haven’t fought in forever.”

 

Hiroki lifts his head and stares at her through narrowed eyes. “Yeah? Wasn’t it you who said that if they didn’t fight then they didn’t love each other anymore?” he demands. “What happened to that?”

 

Yumi tugs at a string from one of her hoodies and chews her bottom lip thoughtfully. “I still believe that, you know?” she says. “Just because they aren’t yelling doesn’t mean they aren’t fighting, you know?” Hiroki rolls his eyes and stares at the ground.

 

“Don’t believe me, but it’s true. Dad stays in his office sometimes and Mom will purposefully make the food he hates. But they smile more now, and they talk more now, and I think maybe they’re balancing that anger and that love better now. And I think we should enjoy it while it lasts.”

 

Hiroki sits up, runs his hands over her hoodies and comforter. “It’s still weird,” he says.

 

“Yeah, well, just try not to break another leg because of it, yeah?” she asks.

 

Hiroki shoves her and she laughs at his offended look. “I didn’t do it on purpose,” he complains.

 

She shoves him back, laughing harder when he topples from her bed. “Could have fooled me,” she replies. “Now help or get out, I need to pack.”

Chapter 25: Paris

24. She moved to Paris and enrolled at Sciences Po. She lived in a tiny studio and went to class (she stopped taking sleep aids) and X.A.N.A. became a nightmare, Lyoko a dream (she smiled).

 

“I did not!” Hiroki protests, setting aside the memory book from Aelita.

 

“You did too!” Yumi laughs. “You must have been two? You were so upset that you couldn’t wear the sparkly tutu that you threw a massive fit until Mom got you your own.”

 

“Lies!” Hiroki protests. He pounces on her, knocks her onto the bed and hits her in the face with a pillow. She can’t stop laughing. “I would never wear a tutu.”

 

A throat clears and they look up to find Aelita and the boys hovering in the doorway. Jeremie is eyeing the stacks of boxes towering along the side of the room. “A tutu?” Aelita asks, eyes bright.

 

Hiroki’s face is scarlet. “Yumi’s lying!”

 

Yumi sits up, pushes her hair behind her ears. “Hey guys, what’s up?”

 

“It’s your last night,” Jeremie says, “we thought we’d give you a proper send-off.”

 

Odd’s eyes are as bright as his grin. “Don’t worry, kiddo,” he says to Hiroki. “I have more sisters than I care to remember-”

 

“Or count,” Ulrich mutters.

 

Odd elbows him. “If the worst Yumi has on you is a sparkly tutu, then that’s nothing.” He claps his hands together. “I brought pizza and I’m starving.”

 

“You said you were done packing,” Ulrich adds.

 

Yumi smiles, slings an arm around Hiroki’s shoulders and pulls him to his feet. “Definitely. Come on, runt.”

 

Downstairs, six large pizza boxes sit in the middle of the table her mother is setting and her father pops the cork on a bottle of cabernet sauvignon. He catches her eye and smiles. “It is a special occasion,” he says.

 

“Awesome,” Hiroki chirps.

 

“You are still too young.” Hiroki scowls as their mother looks at their guests. “Wine?” she asks.

 

“Well, if you insist,” Odd replies, grinning widely. “Let me help you, Mrs. Ishiyama.” He takes the wine glasses she hands him, meeting Ulrich’s eyes over her shoulder. “Do you guys want any?”

 

Jeremie glances at Aelita, eyebrows raised and she nods. “Aelita and I will have some.”

 

“Me too,” Yumi agrees.

 

“I’ll pass,” Ulrich says with a shrug. He ruffles Hiroki’s hair, ignoring the younger boy’s scowl. “Can’t have Hiroki drinking by himself.”

 

//

 

After they’ve consumed the bottle of wine and boxes of pizza, Aelita disappears into the kitchen and bounces back out with a box of pink frosted cupcakes. She beams as she places them down in front of Yumi. “Strawberry and chocolate,” she announces.

 

Hiroki reaches for a cupcake and their mother slaps his hand away. “Yumi first,” their father says.

 

Yumi flushes and shrugs, grabbing the cupcake closest. “You guys didn’t have to do this,” she protests. Hiroki sneaks a cupcake while their parents are distracted clearing the dishes and empty pizza boxes.

 

“Sure we did,” Ulrich replies. “I brought some movies too.”

 

“And Einstein brought the cool sound system he got for Christmas,” Odd adds, bouncing on his toes. Jeremie shrugs and nods toward the bag by the sofa.

 

She glances at her parents and her mother gives her a warm smile. “Have fun with your friends, Yumi. We can clean up.”

 

“Hiroki will help,” her father adds.

 

//

 

They spend the night watching terrible horror movies and laughing at the effects or stupid choices the characters make. Aelita covers her face each time someone gets killed and Jeremie critiques the science behind the scenarios. She’s curled up on the couch, Ulrich and Odd to her right. She glances over to see Ulrich with his arm resting across Odd’s shoulders. She isn’t sure if it’s supposed to be romantic or a way to keep Odd seated and not bouncing from the sugar he’s ingested.

 

“I’m going to miss this,” she says, surprising herself. She hadn’t thought she was going to say anything at all.

 

Ulrich glances at her, eyebrows raised curiously. “Horror movies?”

 

“No,” she replies and kicks him. He winces. “This.” She gestures widely, hoping to encompass all of them.

 

Before she can react, Aelita has thrown herself onto the couch and pulled her into a tight hug. “I am going to miss you so much,” she says. “But I am so excited for you too!”

 

Ulrich shrugs, eyes bright. “Just means we have an excuse to go to Paris now.”

 

Odd shifts, craning around Ulrich to see her. He reaches over and squeezes her foot where it’s still resting against Ulrich’s leg from when she’d kicked him. “Hey, no tears. It’s university not the end of the world. We’ll still keep in touch, yeah?”

 

“Of course,” Jeremie adds. He reaches over from the armchair and she squeezes his hand, still being hugged by Aelita. “We’re a team.”

 

. . … . .

 

Yumi had spent three weekends traveling back-and-forth to Paris with her parents to find an apartment she wanted to rent. Something affordable, close-ish to campus, and yet in a decent area as well. Now, as she climbs the stairs to the second floor lugging the bag of groceries for the week she wonders if she shouldn’t have looked for something on the ground floor after all.

 

Cursing under her breath, she balances the grocery sack on her bent knee and fumbles her way into the apartment. Objectively, it isn’t anything to write home about. There’s a small sitting room to her left that on a clear day you can see a bit of Notre Dame from, a tiny kitchen in front of her, and a surprisingly decent-sized bathroom and small bedroom to her right. But, it’s hers and it’s home.

 

She locks the door and carries her groceries into the kitchen, sets a pot of water to boil on the stove while she puts the groceries away.

 

Twenty minutes later, she sits on the windowsill in the living room, staring out toward the Seine. She has a bowl of hot noodles in her hands and her phone held between her shoulder and ear. “How are classes?” Ulrich asks.

 

“Honestly? Not that different than Kadic, except they move faster.” She twirls a noodle around her chopstick. “How’s the new school year?”

 

“Eh,” Ulrich replies. “Same as every other year. Well, not every year, I guess,” he amends.

 

“What, no rampant computer viruses causing mayhem?” she asks, voice dry.

 

Ulrich snorts into the phone and she grins. “No, thank God,” he replies.

 

Part of her wants to press, wants to ask what scars he carries from Lyoko. She takes a breath, lets it go. She remembers the look on his face in the hospital waiting room, waiting to hear about his sister. There are some wounds too deep and she doesn’t want to push, doesn’t want to dig into wounds not yet healed. She wonders if they ever will fade.

 

“I’m applying to school in Edinburgh.”

 

She sits up and has to fumble not to drop the phone in her surprise. “Really?”

 

“Yeah.” He’s quiet for a moment and she blinks, processing the news. She isn’t sure what she expected Ulrich to do after school ended, but moving to Scotland hadn’t even been a possibility in her mind. “If I get accepted Odd says he’ll come with me. After training.”

 

“Right, that’s good,” she replies. She takes another bite of her dinner. “I’m just surprised,” she says. “This is really good, Ulrich. I’m happy for you guys.”

 

Ulrich makes a scoffing sound, changes the subject to the upcoming game and Aelita’s newest dye job. Yumi lets his voice wash over her, relaxing against the window casing and enjoying the view from her window.

 

. . … . .

 

Yumi is wandering through Paris, taking in the less tourist-y aspects. There’s a street near her apartment that bends and curves, and the buildings follow suit. There’s a vine-covered house converted into apartments and a small grocer and café. Yumi wanders the street, smells the sweet smell of cooking pastries from the bakery up ahead. She turns the corner and stops.

 

A girl is crouching there, tucked in where the street bends. She recognizes the pink hair immediately and frowns. “Aelita?” she asks. She doesn’t remember Aelita saying that she’ll be visiting today. She can’t see what Aelita is looking at. “Aelita?” she repeats.

 

She steps closer, her foot connects with a loose can, sends it skittering. She looks down and it isn’t a can, but a pair of eye glasses. She frowns, turns back to Aelita. There’s a body half-hidden by the ivy trailing from the building.

 

“Aelita!” she exclaims. She pushes her out of the way, bends to check Jeremie’s breathing. “What happened? Did you call for help? Aelita?”

 

She looks up and the street has shifted. No longer Paris, but the familiar paths of the forest sector of Lyoko. Aelita leans against the wall of a tower, smirk firmly in place. “What’s going on?”

 

“Yumi, Yumi, Yumi,” she sighs. “Did you really think any of us would escape?”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

Aelita pushes off from the wall, crouches down in front of her. She reaches out, fingers wrap around Yumi’s chin and tilt her head down. It isn’t Jeremie, but Odd lying there. He’s still, sprawled as if he’d been mid-jump when he’d fallen. It isn’t right. He should have deactivated.

 

“What’s going on?” She raises her eyes, meets Aelita’s steady gaze. Her eyes aren’t the spring green she’s used to, instead they pulse black with X.A.N.A.’s symbol. “What did you do?”

 

“It was fun while it lasted,” Aelita replies, mouth twisting into another smirk. “But it’s time to stop playing games.”

 

//

 

Yumi wakes with the memory of Aelita’s hands around her throat, the weightless feel of the digital sea washing over her. That free-floating nothingness where her anything physical ceases to exist. She gasps and stumbles out of bed and into the bathroom. Her hand slams against the light switch, temporarily blinding her as the room is bathed in warm yellow light. She makes it to the toilet in time to vomit, wipes her mouth with toilet paper, and flushes.

 

She splashes cool water from the faucet on to her face and then brushes her teeth until her gums bleed. When she finally meets her reflection, she looks haunted. Her face is pale, her eyes shadowed. She fumbles her way to the kitchen and stares at the empty kitchen table. The clock reads 4:10.

 

She grabs the loaf of bread, cuts two slices and sticks them in the toaster. She pulls out the butter and jam, puts the kettle on and makes herself tea. At 4:25 she sits down at the table, slathers her toast in butter and jam, and picks up the phone she hadn’t realized she’d brought with her from the bedroom.

 

It rings twice before it connects. “Yumi?”

 

“Hi Dad,” she says, voice hoarse. She clears her throat. “I have an early start today and hoped I’d catch you at breakfast. I know it isn’t the same as being there…but do you mind?”

 

“Of course not,” he says. She can hear the pleased note to his voice and she sighs and settles back in the chair. “I have missed our morning chats. What are you eating this morning?”

 

. . … . .

 

Mom’s birthday is Saturday. Do NOT forget!

 

How can i with u always reminding me????

 

Don’t be a brat. And type properly.

 

Class is starting
And chill. Already got her a gift
See u Sat

 

//

 

Their schedules don’t always align, but most Fridays they’re able to squeeze in some video calling. Usually she has to rush home from work and Ulrich’s late from practice or a game, or Aelita’s scheduled to DJ an event and Jeremie might have a robotics meeting. The main constant is Odd though.

 

“Yumers!” he chirps when she signs into the call.

 

“Don’t call me that,” she replies automatically. She sinks into her couch, places the laptop on the coffee table. “Anyone else joining the call tonight?”

 

“Ulrich’s in the showers.” She raises her eyebrows and he grins. “I offered to help him get all the mud off – it started pouring during practice apparently. He came back completely covered. But, well, you know Ulrich.” He shrugs and toys with the tag hanging around his neck.

 

“And the lovebirds?” she asks.

 

“Working on a robot for Einstein’s competition. Apparently it must beat Herve’s.” Odd shrugs. “I think it’s just nerd-code for them making out.”

 

“I really don’t want to picture them making out,” Yumi says, pulling a face at the mental image.

 

Odd looks unapologetic as he pops candy into his mouth. “Well, you didn’t have to actually see it in person, so sorry-not-sorry.” He leans in and adjusts the camera. “Speaking of lovebirds, have you started seeing that guy officially? Sam says you two hang out all the time.”

 

Yumi rolls her eyes and stretches out on the sofa. She tucks a throw pillow under her head. “No,” she replies. “I know it’s a hard concept for you sometimes, but we’re friends. We just hang out.”

 

“Uh huh,” Odd replies. He looks up as a door opens. She sees him talking but he must have muted himself because there’s no sound. She yawns and waits until Ulrich appears in frame next to Odd.

 

“Hey, Yumi,” he says. “How’s it going?”

 

She shrugs. “Odd’s interrogating me on my love life. Again.”

 

“I just want you to be happy, Yumers. You’re at university, you should be get-” Ulrich rolls his eyes and covers Odd’s mouth with a hand.

 

“Ignore him, he’s been bored.” He looks at Odd. “If I move my hand are you going to behave?”

 

The blonde nods and Ulrich slowly removes his hand. Odd sticks his tongue out at first Ulrich, then Yumi. He shifts, head resting against Ulrich’s shoulder. “Fine, since we can’t talk about Yumi and the guy-she-isn’t-but-totally-is-dating, how about food? Make anything new?”

 

Yumi grins, grabs her phone. “I made a croquembouche at work today. I’m texting you photos now.”

 

A moment later, Odd groans. “It’s not fair that you’re in Paris and not making these here. For everyone, but mostly me.”

 

//

 

It takes seven months, but eventually the sleep-aids find their way to the back of the medicine cabinet. They’re hidden behind an extra tube of toothpaste, a bottle of aspirin, and a bottle of hand lotion she hid because she can’t stand the smell.

 

It takes ten months before she notices.

 

//

 

Sean comes over to watch films after he gets off work most Wednesday nights. She isn’t sure what they are, exactly. There’s a casual interest there, but no moves have been made. She finds that she enjoys just having a friend in a new city. Sometimes she cooks and other times he brings over take-out. It’s nice.

 

She’s lost interest in the movie they’re currently watching. It’s some kind of action film and she finds that after a while they all blend into one. She pulls over her notebook, deciding that she’ll skim her notes for the biology test coming up.

 

Instead, she finds that she’s sketching out the mountain sector of Lyoko. It takes her a moment to realize that Sean is watching her work. She flushes and moves to flip the page. He catches her hand. “Can I?” he asks.

 

“It’s just some doodles,” she says. He moves closer, tattooed fingers release her wrist and instead begin tracing her line-work. “They’re nothing.”

 

“They’re pretty cool,” he disagrees. “The way the tree roots trail over the floating rocks adds some interesting movement to the piece. If you add some shadows here,” he moves his finger across the page, “and here, it’ll really bring it to life. Some work and this could be a cool tattoo, if you’re looking to get a new one.”

 

She laughs, shakes her head. “No, just doodling instead of studying.” She flips the notebook closed and looks at the film. It looks like there’s a man following a woman on screen, but she doesn’t remember either character. “I have no idea what’s going on.”

 

He laughs, long and hard, and reaches for the bag of crisps. “I switched movies since you didn’t seem interested in the first one. Wondered when you’d notice.”

 

//

 

“You look…happier.”

 

“What do you mean?” Yumi asks. She looks over from where she’s window shopping outside a small boutique she’ll never be able to afford.

 

Jeremie shrugs and pushes up his glasses. “You just do. At Kadic you were always so serious. I’ve seen you smile more today than a week back home.”

 

Yumi shrugs and plays with the fringe on the end of her scarf. It looks like it will be an early winter, with temperatures already dropping in October. Jeremie took the train in from l’X for the weekend and they spent the morning wandering around the Ile de la Cite, Notre Dame Cathedral, and Sainte Chappelle. They’d even gotten a picture together at Point Zero in front of Notre Dame for kicks.

 

“It’s been a good day,” she replies. They’re heading back to the apartment, pausing to browse street vendors or glance in shop windows as the fancy hits them. “I didn’t have to work and I get to hang out with a friend.”

 

Jeremie shakes his head and tugs his knit hat more securely onto his head. “It’s not a bad thing if you’re happy.”

 

She looks at Jeremie and nudges him with her elbow. “How about you, huh? You sounded pretty excited about your classes this semester.”

 

“They’re more challenging than the ones Kadic offered. I’m still not sold on the weekly sport though.”

 

Yumi laughs as they approach her apartment. “Ulrich said you tried to bribe him to take your place.”

 

“The jerk refused, said he had an exam,” Jeremie groans. They fall into idle chatter as they climb the three flights of stairs to her apartment. Because she is a good friend she doesn’t comment on how out of breath he is when they reach her floor. “Do you miss Kadic?” he asks as they enter her apartment.

 

Yumi unwinds her scarf and shrugs out of her coat. “Sometimes,” she states. “I miss you and the rest of the gang. The video chats are nice, but…” she shrugs. “Sometimes I even miss Odd’s music. Do you remember that one song he did?”

 

“Yes,” Jeremie replies, smiling. “Don’t even remind me or it’ll be stuck in my head forever.”

 

Yumi flops onto the sofa and Jeremie joins her, their bags left by the coat rack. “Do you ever think about Lyoko?” she asks.

 

Jeremie tilts his head, peering at her from over his glasses. “Sometimes, it’s hard not to. It was such a large part of our lives for so long.” He shrugs. “But it’s in the past now. Why?”

 

Yumi lets her head fall back against the sofa cushion and stares up at the ceiling. “Just wondering. Like you said, it was a big part of our lives. And with Aelita…”

 

Jeremie mirrors her position, stares up at the ceiling. “I was upset at first,” he says slowly. “I didn’t understand why she’d squander so many opportunities…but I get it. She spent so much of her life confined to Lyoko, then to Kadic, that of course she wants to go out and see the world.”

 

“That’s a very mature opinion.”

 

“The whole point of everything we did with Lyoko was to free Aelita. It would be hypocritical if she was just stuck in another type of cage.”

 

Yumi turns her head to study Jeremie. He’s still staring up at the cracked plaster above them. She reaches over and squeezes his shoulder. “Aelita loves you, you know? She won’t be gone forever.”

 

“I know,” he replies, voice quiet. “What about you?” he asks. “Do you think about Lyoko?”

 

She twists back around and resumes her previous position. “I tried not to for a long time, but…when everything is said and done, it wasn’t a bad time.” She rubs at the black marks etched into her wrist. “I got some really great friends out of it.”

 

“Indeed,” Jeremie agrees.

Chapter 26: Graduation

25. Aelita cried when she showed up to their graduation. (She won't admit that she almost didn't come.)

 

The video chat is silent when she logs on after work. She frowns at the screen. The gang is together in what looks like Aelita’s room this time. Aelita has her back to the bed, a notebook resting on her folded knees, and a highlighter clenched between her teeth. Jeremie is flipping through a textbook next to her while Ulrich flips through flash cards and Odd seems to be sketching something.

 

“How’s it going?” she asks.

 

Jeremie jerks in surprise, reaching to push his glasses up. “Hi, Yumi,” he says.

 

“Yo,” Odd replies, giving a small wave.

 

“The Bac is next week, huh?” she asks.

 

“Yup, ten days of Hell,” Ulrich agrees.

 

“You’ll do fine,” she and Odd say simultaneously. Ulrich glances at each of them and then shakes his head.

 

“You will,” she insists. She remembers her own hell week and the late nights spent studying with Shannon. They had been convinced they were going to fail and had managed to pass with a 16.20 and 15.15 respectively.

 

Aelita groans and lets her head fall back against the side of the bed. “I just want to skip ahead. I knew I should have started studying earlier.”

 

“You’re second in the class,” Yumi protests. “You’re fine.”

 

Jeremie scrubs a hand through his hair and closes his textbook on advanced computer science. Yumi bites her tongue and doesn’t ask why he’s bothering to study. After everything he accomplished with Lyoko and Aelita’s materialization she’s sure that he’d be able to write his own textbook.

 

“How much is physical education weighted again?” he asks, voice plaintive.

 

“Less than your science classes, don’t worry, Einstein,” Odd replies.

 

“You seem surprisingly at ease, Odd,” Yumi says.

 

Odd shrugs and returns to his sketch. “Probably because I was smart and chose not to specialize in the S Bac unlike these nutters,” he replies.

 

Yumi grins while Jeremie hurls a pillow at Odd’s head. It lands short, knocking into Ulrich’s knee. Ulrich looks over at the other boy and shakes his head. “Maybe you should study more for physical education after all,” he says.

 

Jeremie glowers and Yumi has to excuse herself to get a snack in order to hide her grin.

 

//

 

“Well?” Yumi asks as soon as the video chat connects. The others look exhausted – she hasn’t seen the circles around Jeremie’s eyes that dark since X.A.N.A. was a thing they had to worry about. “What were the scores?”

 

Odd glances around at the others before shrugging. “I received a solid 15. Nothing like Mr. and Mrs. Einstein, I’m sure, but the folks will be happy.”

 

She looks at Jeremie and Aelita, eyebrows raised. “How’d you do?”

 

“19.89,” Aelita replies. She leans into the frame, face practically glowing. “Jeremie scored a 21.01!” she exclaims. Jeremie’s face flushes a brilliant red and Ulrich punches him lightly in the shoulder while Odd reaches over to ruffle his blonde hair.

 

“That’s amazing!” Yumi exclaims. She grins at them through the screen.

 

“I have to admit, I am pleasantly surprised,” Jeremie replies.

 

“That’s our Einstein, always so modest,” Odd says. He nudges the other blonde, grinning. “Let loose a little, you deserve it!”

 

“And Ulrich, how did you do?” Yumi asks, raising her voice to be heard over Odd.

 

The others quieten and look at Ulrich expectantly. “No surprise that I didn’t do as well as the others.” He shrugs, expression serious. Aelita frowns, bottom lip pulled between her teeth. “Thanks to the physical education and labs…I managed a 14.30.”

 

Odd whoops, grabs Ulrich by the shoulders and plants a solid kiss on his mouth. “I told you that you’d do fine!” He shoves Ulrich lightly. “And you thought you’d have to take the oral exam next week!”

 

Jeremie thumps Ulrich on the shoulder awkwardly while Aelita alternates hugging each of the boys. “That’s really great, guys!” Yumi exclaims. “I’m so proud of all of you!”

 

“I wish you were here!” Aelita exclaims, looking at the camera again. “We’ll have to have a proper celebration when you come for graduation,” Aelita states. “We could get cupcakes!”

 

“Yeah,” Yumi agrees. She plays with a loose strand of hair. “When is it again?”

 

Odd rolls his eyes, popping some kind of colorful candy into his mouth. “July 11^th,” he replies. “It’s in the group text.”

 

“It will be so great to all be together again!” Aelita continues. She leans against Jeremie and grins at them all. “It’ll be just like old times!”

 

. . … . .

 

Aelita wants to know what time we should plan for Saturday.

Do you know what time you’ll be arriving?

 

//

 

Yumi is sipping her coffee when Georges drops into the seat across from her at Le Dauphin. “Sorry I’m late, Maurice had me working double yesterday and I overslept.” He runs a hand through his dark blonde hair and signals the waitress. “Did you order?”

 

“Just the coffee.”

 

She smiles as the waitress appears at their table. They place their orders and the waitress disappears back inside the café. It’s unseasonably warm for June and Yumi watches residents and tourists alike mill about the Place de Dauphine, dressed in shorts or sundresses. Georges yawns widely and stretches.

 

“Maurice said you were scheduled for Saturday,” he comments idly.

 

“I saw,” she replies. She takes another sip as the waitress brings Georges his espresso.

 

“Don’t you have something that weekend?”

 

“I haven’t decided if I’m going,” she says. She looks down at her half-empty coffee, contemplates ordering another. It’s a hot day though and she already feels sweat beading at the back of her neck. She adjusts the cutlery in front of her; finally looks up to meet Georges’s steady stare. “What?”

 

“Maurice will let you off – he likes you.”

 

Yumi waits while the waitress sets their crepes down in front of them. She pokes her food with the fork tines and sighs. Georges takes a large bite of his. “It’s not that. I just don’t want it to be weird.”

 

“Why would it be weird?” Georges asks around the mouthful of crepe. “They’re your friends, aren’t they?”

 

“Yes, of course they are.” She cuts her crepe into manageable pieces, chews thoughtfully. “It’s been a whole year, Georges,” she says finally. She sits back in the wooden chair and fiddles with the cutlery again. “A whole year where they’ve been there and I’ve been…here.”

 

Georges stares at her again, then shakes his head. “You’ve kept in touch though. You said you did those Friday-night Skype calls, no?”

 

“Yes, but that’s not the same.” Georges shrugs and takes another bite. “Aelita…she thinks everything will be the same, but it won’t. They have a whole year’s worth of memories that I don’t.”

 

“So it might be a bit awkward, so what?” Georges asks. “You go home, you see your friends, you have fun. If you don’t, then you know not to do so in the future.” Yumi finishes off her coffee, pours cool water from the carafe into a glass. “If you don’t go, Yumi, then this will be one more memory they have and you don’t.”

 

Yumi downs half the glass of water and then returns to eating. She feels Georges watching her and frowns at him. “What?”

 

He gives her a wide, lazy smile in return. “I’ll tell Maurice you won’t be in this weekend.”

 

“You’re impossible.”

 

//

 

Mom wants 2 no if ur coming home this wknd

4 the ceremony thing

U no 4 ur friends

 

I’ve told you to text properly.

 

Dude whatever

U coming home or not?

Hello???

Ugh fine u deal with mom

 

. . … . .

 

The new headmistress gives the speech this year. Yumi can’t remember the woman’s name, but she has dark hair and a warm smile, and Yumi spends the whole speech comparing her to Delmas. She finds she misses the older man more than she realized she would. She’s seated next to Emily Leduc of all people. They had run into each other in the courtyard, Emily looking the same as always even if she was dressed in a lavender sundress and had her hair pinned up in some kind of braid Yumi had never been patient enough to master.

 

“How have you been?” Emily had asked, camera in hand and small smile on her face.

 

“I’ve been okay,” Yumi had answered, surprised at the honesty in her voice. Emily’s smile had widened and Yumi found herself returning it. “How are you, Emily?”

 

“Oh, you know,” Emily had responded. She’d waved a hand in a half-distracted, fluttery motion. “University is its own experience, isn’t it?” They looked over as Jim got on the bullhorn and started calling people into the auditorium. “Looks like they’re starting…do you have anyone to sit with?”

 

Yumi had glanced around at the assembled families. She had recognized Ulrich’s sister, and could make a guess that the blondes were Odd’s family. “No, not really,” she replied. “Would you mind if I sat with you?”

 

Emily had smiled brightly. “Not at all,” she had replied.

 

Yumi hadn’t asked then, and she hadn’t asked during the speech either, what had brought Emily back to Kadic. She had a feeling that she already knew. After the speech and handing out of the certifications, they are dismissed. Emily gives her a sidelong look. “She isn’t bad,” Emily says, “but I miss Delmas.”

 

“Yeah,” Yumi agrees. “Me too.”

 

They follow the crowd of spectators out into the warm July afternoon. The staff have set out small tables with hors d’oeuvres that the families gather around. Yumi isn’t all that surprised when Emily excuses herself to go speak with Ulrich. She also isn’t that surprised to see the two of them disappear in the direction of the forest. She still doesn’t understand their friendship, but she’s surprised to find that anger and annoyance has faded over the last year.

 

“Yumi!”

 

She has enough time to brace herself before Aelita has her wrapped up in a hug tight enough to stop her from breathing. Aelita’s hair is a tangle of blonde-and-pink and she’s crying when she pulls back. “I know it’s stupid,” she says, “but I was so worried you wouldn’t be able to make it.”

 

“Yumers!” Odd shouts.

 

“Don’t call me that!” She’s pulled from Aelita’s embrace into Odd’s. The blonde boy is taller than she is now, which is even stranger than Hiroki’s growth spurt. She pushes back from Odd, laughing. “What are you even wearing?”

 

“What, don’t think it’s stylish?” he retorts.

 

“Sure, if I was colorblind, maybe.” Odd grins at her, then grabs Aelita and spins her in a circle. They lean against each other, laughing and grinning and Yumi is struck again by how similar they do look to each other. “Hey, Einstein!”

 

Jeremie joins them, dressed more conservatively in a dark suit compared to Odd’s own outrageous one. “Congratulations, mister highest-Bac-score-ever,” Yumi says. “The news article was really awesome.”

 

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Jeremie replies, face turning red. She pulls him into a hug. “Thanks,” he mumbles and she smiles. “Where’s Ulrich?”

 

“With Emily,” Odd replies. He nods toward where their families are gathered. “Let’s put in an appearance while we wait, then I can’t wait to change and get to the fun stuff.”

 

“How long are you staying in town?” Aelita questions as they cross the field.

 

“Unfortunately just until the last train tonight,” she replies. “I have work tomorrow.”

 

“No matter,” Aelita states, “I’m just so happy you’re here.” She loops an arm through Yumi’s and grins at her.

 

Yumi sees Sissi standing with Ulrich’s family, chatting with his sister. She’s never spent much time with his family and it’s fascinating to see the ways in which he and his sister differ. Ulrich is usually deceptively stoic, quiet and restrained in a way that’s different from Jeremie’s own quiet nature. His sister is all smiles and hand movements and Yumi remembers that she’s a musician.

 

“I’m glad to be here too,” she replies. She feels Aelita squeeze her arm lightly and smiles.

 

//

 

The others had rented a hotel room in town for the night. Yumi joins them after stopping home to change into something more comfortable than the dress she’d worn to the ceremony. Odd opens the door when she knocks and she has to blink for a moment. He’s changed out of the purple trousers into jeans, and lost the jacket and tie, but he’s still in the iridescent paisley waistcoat. He grins when he sees her, specifically when he notices the box in her hands.

 

“Pastries?” he asks as he steps aside.

 

“For everyone,” she stresses.

 

“You’ve always been my favorite, you know that right?”

 

“Careful or you’ll make Ulrich jealous,” Yumi warns. Odd follows her into the room and she sees Jeremie and Aelita through the balcony doors talking.

 

“What will make me jealous?” Ulrich asks. He’s seated on the small sofa, messing with something on his phone. Yumi drops into the empty space next to him and he looks over. “Pastries?”

 

“Pastries,” she confirms. Jeremie looks at her through the glass doors and she waves. He returns the wave and Aelita turns to see her. “Everything okay?” she asks, head inclined toward the balcony.

 

“Eh,” Odd shrugs. He perches on the armrest next to her. “Things have been a bit tense between the Einsteins lately.”

 

“Why?” She tries to keep the frown from her face. “They haven’t mentioned anything.”

 

“Jer had a hard time accepting Aelita’s decision not to go to university straight away.”

 

“She was accepted to l’X too,” Odd adds. Yumi shakes her head and Odd nods knowingly. “It’ll be good for her, seeing the world and all. Einstein knows it.”

 

“He just doesn’t want to admit it,” Ulrich adds. He puts his phone away and reaches for the pastry box. The balcony doors open and Jeremie and Aelita enter. “Yumi brought pastries,” Ulrich calls. He fishes out a napoleon and Odd grabs one of the chocolate operas.

 

“Excellent,” Jeremie says. “Thank you.” He approaches and takes one of the éclairs while Aelita fishes out a fruit tarte. Yumi feels a small rush of pleasure that she’d been able to accurately predict each pastry they would take.

 

Aelita toes off her lime green sneakers before sitting cross-legged on one of the beds. “Gosh, I missed this,” she says brightly. “The video chats just weren’t enough.”

 

“The gang does feel complete again, huh?” Odd asks. He reaches for another opera.

 

“I’m glad you could make it,” Ulrich says, squeezing her shoulder. She looks over at him and she knows he suspects that she almost didn’t. She musters a smile and relaxes against the sofa, swats Odd’s hand away when he goes for a third pastry. “Kadic wasn’t the same without you.”

 

“I’m really happy I could make it, too,” she replies.

 

And she means it. Looking at their faces, watching the way Jeremie stares adoringly at Aelita, or the way Aelita’s hand grasps Jeremie’s, even listening to Odd and Ulrich bicker over the pastries…she feels like no time has passed. Like she’s just stepped back into her life from a year ago. It’s a ridiculous feeling. In a couple hours she’ll be catching the train back into Paris. Tomorrow the gang will be splitting up as well – Jeremie to Reims and then Paris, Odd and Aelita to Norway, and Ulrich back to Germany before heading to Scotland. They’ll be more separated than they were this past year.

 

She fishes a cream puff out of the pastry box, snapping it shut before Odd can swipe another one. It’s strangely reassuring that no matter what, some things never change. “So, when’s our next get-together going to be?” she asks brightly.

Notes:

And here we have it, the end of Yumi's list. It's been a wild ride and thank you to everyone who has joined me on this journey - whether you were here from the start or just recently started reading. I hope you enjoyed it and I hope I did the characters justice. Stay healthy and safe, everyone!

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of List