A/N: Hello, my little darlings. Now I know I have a bunch of pitchforks waiting to deliver me to my ultimate demise, but I WILL finish this one. Promise. Now, I came across a pretty little fanfic recently and wanted to do my own rendition of the story. With permission of Zoerz (Please check hers out! I really like it. :3), author of "This is High School", I present to you my own AU fic. I'll probably stay close to her storyline in the beginning, but spice things up a little, Grape style! (Don't be surprised if the story suddenly lurches off in a whole new direction.)
There will be a couple of POV shifts and I apologize in advance. There will also be other languages intermingled into the story, but I'll try my best to help people figure out the words in context clues... Do you guys want a glossary at the end or splashed into the story or would you not mind using google translate? (Portuguese, Japanese, Brazilian, or any other persons that speak the languages I butcher, please forgive me. D:) P.S. A helpful tip to translating Mari: whenever she uses a ' in her Spanish words, it's because she cuts s's out of her speech.
TT_TT I love having people who are fellow authors in school. They soothe my worries.
Disclaimers and Citations: Xiaolin Showdown is most definitely not mine. Respective characters belong to their owners. The book quoted is Jessica's Guide to Dating on the Dark Side by Beth Fantaskey. Layla is a character concept borrowed from Kidd Death, used with permission. The story concept is partially borrowed from Zoerz, also used with permission.
Vaguely aware of the blood seeping down my face, sliding down my cheeks and dripping off my chin like crimson tears, I stared numbly at the spearhead charging at me; the intent to pierce through my skull was pretty obvious. It's funny, I thought to myself as time slowed to a close-halt for me. I should be terrified out of my mind, but I'm not. The sense of danger simply wasn't registering despite the logical half of my brain telling me I was aware of the fact of the matter: I was going to die.
But I still wasn't feeling the terror that the situation was meant to inspire.
The awareness seemed almost... Synthetic. Foreign. Like this simple awareness was something someone had imposed on me, not really something I was really supposed to feel. Time was still slowed as if I was watching a movie and the director had decided to turn on the slo-mo and more disconnected awareness ran through my numbed thoughts, a slight ringing going through my ears. I felt close-to-nothing; no pain; general sensitivity to my surroundings and extremely dulled senses. Obscure recollection stirred up my memories as a specific one floated to the forefront of my thoughts:
Papa once told me that the mind was a fascinating thing. "Our company thrives on knowing how the minds of the youth work," he'd said. "Not knowing what makes certain emotions and reactions come out would be our downfall." I hadn't paid the attention I should've back then, distracted by the newest of his products at my young age. However, through the cheerful blips and the colors flashing across the screen, I heard him say, "Like fear. It is an emotion we must either avoid or exploit." I looked up at him, confusion decorating my face. Fear? Why would my Papa talk about fear to me? My eyes followed him to one of Tohomiko Industries' display cases and saw as he pulled out one of our only 'Mature' games. Papa banned me from playing it when he released it, so it'd been a pure mystery to me.
"This... This game is all about bringing out fear from the deepest pits of a person's psyche. Not the typical, screaming, juvenile fear that people get from things surprising them and jumping out at them," I wasn't even sure if he'd been talking to me then. Something about him looked like he was so far away... beyond my reach and beyond my understanding. "This is the purest, raw fear. The type that seeps into your system so slowly, you are unable to process it at first. It's the numb, frozen fear that shuts your blood down cold and brings down your system. When time slows down and every thought you have, every breath you take, has suddenly become more precious than gold. Your mind fills up with delusions and ridiculous thoughts to act as a natural pain-killer. All you can do is see. You can't even move. You can't hear. You can't see. You can't smell anything except your own terror." I remember feeling intimidated by his monologue and yelling at him to stop because he was scaring me. And just as quickly as he'd gone into his trance, he'd come out and became the Papa I knew and loved.
I hadn't understood back then, but I understand now.
This is the raw fear he was talking about and it tickled me ironic. It's true. I was effectively shut down, simply seeing the world around me as a second-hand viewer. Dumb body, I thought to myself. Move! Breathe! Wiggle! Do something! Don't just stand there like some sort of idiot. And I was aware of everything again. It's funny how I can think all of this in such a short amount of time. It was also funny how I was taking everything with a grain of rice, but I wasn't complaining. I could be as cynical and as jaded as I wanted to be in my last moments.
Glancing up to meet the angry, gray eyes of my almost-murderer, a smile spread across my face. It's like the guy trying to stab a spear at me is moving through a bunch of jelly. Haha. I envisioned the room being encased in the thick, purple jam and the stupid look that would appear on his face when he discovered the sugary goo restricting his movements. I almost started to giggle, but knew I wouldn't have enough time to, so I held back the urge to. Out of instinct, I looked to the side slowly, meeting the turquoise eyes of my best friend, a pang of regret running through me as I saw the pure terror through her glasses, fogging up as tears ran down her dark cheeks. Don't cry, I wanted to say to her.
Stupid, I thought to myself as I watched the tears drip onto the floor, splashing like little dots. Stop crying, idiot. She knew I hated it when she cried. Especially when she cried over me. Find your parents. If I die, at least they can live. Run. Don't just sit there and look at me. Live. You can't die if I do. If I see you on the other side, I'll kill you again because you died like a dumbass. Maybe I was the dumbass, but that was typical: expected. Breaking my gaze from hers, I turned back to my attacker, eyes meeting his angry dull gray ones, and I pitied him. I pitied him because I knew he smelled and because I could almost see his ribs from under his ripped and dirty shirt. This is a job for him. So that he can live and feed himself, he has to kill me. Isn't that funny? I mused. I pity the guy that's gonna kill me: understand him. Damn. Near-death is really starting to get to me.
I closed my eyes, waiting for the spear to pierce through me, and thought of the boy whose face I've been dreaming of since the day I honestly and truly met him and not the persona he displays. I smiled as a tear threatened to run down my cheek. God, if I survive this, I swear I'll properly confess to him. Then, acting of its own accord, my mind reeled back and the pleasant memories I shared with him and all his siblings. Slowly, it reeled back further until I came back to the beginning. The day I moved in with the Pedrosa family.
~*Four and Half Years Prior*~
SLAM!
The small Japanese girl cringed when the locker door collided with its frame, producing a very unsightly sound. She hadn't meant to slam it; she just didn't know her own strength sometimes. She despised unnecessarily loud things. But for all how she hated her locker at the moment, she'd found a new object of her contempt in the form of her dark-skinned best friend, who was ever-so-nicely laughing her butt off at Kimiko's expression, which had gone from a cringe to flat-out annoyed very quickly. "I hope you choke on your spit," Kimiko growled under her breath. She wasn't known for her light temper and the events of the day weren't making her nerves any more agreeable.
Recovering from her fit of laughter, Mari stood up, giggling. She stood at about 5' 3", five inches taller than the petite Asian and was built thicker, her curves more pronounced and defined on her Hispanic body. Something she'd always loved about that girl was her pride in standing out. She wasn't skinny, but she made a point out of making a statement. ("Women should have curves," she would declare, quoting one of her favorite books. "Not angles." She would always dramatically pause. "Pero u'tede son linda; you guys are cute. You don't look like e'queleto. Always girls that want to show their bones walking all over the place. Skeletons! Que degracia.")
"Calma, Kimi," she soothed in her heavy accent, not wanting to set off her friend's fiery temper. "No need to be de mal humor so early! You need to be Hapi-Kimi when you meet the Hapi-Fami." To emphasize her point, the curly-haired teen gave her a large, shining Cheshire grin, breaking the smile for just a fraction of a second to blow a wild curl from her face in order to mimic perky perfection.
Kimiko sighed and shook her head softly. Today was the day she moved in with her nutty best friend, the one and only Mariana Zafira Pedrosa Rios, and the rest of the Pedrosa clan (Not even family. Family was too small to describe the chaos in that home). Why was she moving into a house already packed with eleven people, you ask? Because her lovely Papa Tohomiko had yet another business endeavor to pursue in her home city, Tokyo, and Kimiko had grown to love the quaint little American town they'd lived in for the past five years.
Which meant she'd put her foot down and refused to leave with him. She loved Japan, but she couldn't leave the school and all of her friends now – especially Mari the Nut-Job, who would get an absolute kick out of annoying her every day while she was gone with whiny emails about how lonely she was and how mean Kimiko was for leaving her. As much as she loved the girl, she was one hell of an annoyingly persuasive baby when it suited her.
I guess that's how she convinced both our parents to let me stay with the Pedrosas, Kimiko thought to herself, shifting the weight from one foot to the other, hand gripping her shoulder bag. She closed her eyes and remembered the day they'd approached her father like it were yesterday:
"Are you CRAZY, Mariana Zafira?" the CEO yelled in his heavily accented English, his face going red with panic and anger that she'd even suggested it. "Your house is full of boys!"
"But Papa!" Kimiko protested; they had only just started their suggestion!
"No buts, Kimiko! I will not allow you to stay anywhere unfit for you!"
Ending their argument with a clearing of her throat, Mari, after fixing her wire-rimmed glasses in the way she does, took an arm around his shoulders solemnly, her face the picture of seriousness. "Señor Tomohiko, porfavor. Walk with me." Her father's face went from bright red to its usual light apricot shade.
"You have half an hour," he told her reluctantly, knowing that it was a losing argument if his daughter's friend was serious enough to confront him. Kimiko knew that he was mentally preparing himself for the whines and pleas he knew were coming. Before she knew it, Mari disappeared with her father for about fourty minutes, leaving a very confused Kimiko behind. Looking for relief from the silence, she'd started to text Keiko until they returned, surprised when her father picked her up off the couch and smiled widely, telling her to pack her things and make sure everything was ready for the move into Mari's home. Standing at the doorway, Mari winked at her and flashed her a thumbs-up, grinning proudly.
She still had yet to know the magical words Mari had spoken to her father, who'd changed his tune relatively quickly, and moved on to help them convince Yaritza and Gabriel Pedrosa, who were more than happy to oblige. The fact of how easily everything happened somewhat made her suspicious at first but she figured that it was because her father loved the Brazilian family from what he knew of them and just wanted Kimiko to be both happy and safe before she got the idea that she wanted to live alone. Everything remained highly amusing to her.
"Hellooooo?"
"Huh?" Kimiko blinked back to reality and looked at Mari, focusing on her face as if coming out of a haze. How strange. She never spaced out when her friends were talking to her.
Mari drew back her manicured fingers from her friend's face after quite literally snapping her back to reality. "I was talking to you, Kimi," she pouted, jutting out her plump and glossed bottom lip, despite her bright turquoise eyes flashing in worry, almost asking if she was okay without their owner having to ask.
"Sorry," Kimiko apologized sincerely, her own sky-colored eyes reassuring Mari that she was fine. "I kind of zoned out. What were you saying?"
Satisfied with the unspoken answer, the Hispanic checked the time and huffed, blowing a few more unruly curls from her face. "I'll tell you at lunch. Class is about to start and Mr. Cranky-Butt-Garcia threatened detention if I was ever late more than once." She looked down the hall, towards the front entrance. "And where the HELL is Keiko? I swear I'm going to beat that girl up if she overslept again. If I can't sleep in, neither can she!"
Kimiko laughed and fixed her bag on her shoulders before pulling out her cell phone. "I'll text her and make sure she gets to school on time." Mari looked at her with all the affection in the world.
"Querida, you and that handy little cell phone." Mari looked down at her silver little wrist watch and cried out, "¡Aye! ¡El tiempo! Gotta go!" She kissed Kimiko's cheeks again and yelled over her shoulder as she started the race against time to Mr. Garcia's dreadful Spanish class, "Can't let the bell catch me! ¡Adios!"
Kimiko shook her head, smiling to herself, and texted Keiko as she walked, absent-mindedly heading to her history class. Luckily, she was studious enough at home to be able to zone out during the time they were in class and really think about everything. As she took her seat, she received the text that Keiko was safely in class. She put her phone away and pulled out a random notebook and pencil to at least look like she was remotely paying attention. As her teacher started his lecture, Kimiko stared at the chalkboard right behind his head and thought about the Pedrosas, paying only just enough attention to her teacher in case he decided to be a jerk and call on her.
She'd seen all of their faces at least once, but the one she really knew was Mari's mother since she was always more than willing to pick Mari and her friends up from school and go out for some girl time, something she appreciated since her own mother was... gone. Kimiko swallowed as her eyes idly followed her teacher throughout the classroom before she returned herself to her thoughts. The trio of her, Mari, and Keiko usually hung out in either her or Keiko's house because of the fact that the Pedrosa residence was usually extremely noisy and Mari hated it when they were there, something that neither she nor Keiko understood. With nine children, the one time Keiko and Kimiko did visit, it was mostly spent watching Mari kick her siblings out of her room and yell at them about the noise level despite Kimiko and Keiko's assurances that she didn't need to do anything extra for them and to relax. After that failure - mostly for their friend's sanity - the three of them agreed to simply meet in the quieter Japanese residences of Keiko and Kimiko. Keiko only had one younger brother that tended to leave them alone ("He's in his 'dark' phase," she explained to them. "He just sits and sulks in his room.") and Kimiko was an only child.
The three did consider asking Keiko's parents to let Kimiko stay with them, but Keiko explained that they were very uptight about favors and were unlikely to say yes to the proposition simply because they would be uncomfortable with a person outside their family staying in their home. That's when Mari's idea had come up. Her parents were very amiable and already had a big house with enough space thanks to government grants.
"They adopted government-taken children," Mari explained. "So the government gives them a big casa as a gracia."
"They adopt?"
"Yeah! They only really have three blood children. The rest of us are adopted."
"Us?" Keiko had asked, surprised.
"You thought I was partially-trilingual just because?" Mari asked. "My parents were illegal immigrants from La República Dominicana," she told them in Spanish to emphasize her point. "My dad got caught and I got taken away when I was 10 while they were deported because of it. The Pedrosas adopted me about a month afterwards and the rest is história." She spoke the last word in as best of a Brazilian Portuguese accent as she could manage.
"That explains your freaky accent when you talk," Keiko had teased while Kimiko laughed in the background. "I can never tell whether you're speaking Spanish or Portuguese."
Mari looked highly offended, her already dark cheeks darkening a little more at the indignity of it all. "My accent is NOT freaky!" She recomposed herself despite their laughter at the fact she'd corrected them with a very heavy accent. "Anyway! If you maldita mocosas are done laughing at me" she shot a glare at them and they smiled innocently at her "I can finish mi e'tori." They folded their hands on their laps and silently told her to go on. She flipped her then-straightened hair over her shoulder and continued. "They have three 'real' kids: Raimundo, Kaiki, and Nathalia, but they treat the rest of us como família. Kimi, they'd love you. Mamãe already does."
"I don't know, Mari... Papa would never agree to it; you have four brothers all near my age," she pointed out, frowning.
Mari snorted in an extremely unlady-like fashion. "Bah! They're too smart to try any moves on you." She smirked and held up her fists playfully, jabbing at the empty air to mimick a fight. "Nosotra' can take all of them and kick their hormonal butts ha'ta mañana."
Kimiko laughed at Mari. Keiko asked, grinning widely, "Translations?"
The girl dramatically sighed. "Do I really need translations at this point? Keiko, you're taking basic Spanish."
"Excuse me if I don't feel like grabbing a dictionary every time I talk to you!"
"Oye!" Mari bristled, going from sitting to kneeling irritably, her hands on her hips and a displeased scowl directed towards Keiko. "Si no te gu'ta mi e'pañol, te puede' ir."
"Again! I can't understand you!" Mari held up her fist threateningly, approaching Keiko before Kimiko threw a pillow into both their faces.
"Enough!" she yelled, getting annoyed with the arguing. Keiko and Mari looked at each other and 'hmph'ed before turning away from each other. Kimiko rolled her eyes before looking back at Mari. "Anyway, do you really think papa is going to let me?"
Mari dissolved all hard feelings and looked back her. "He will if I have anything to say about it." Kimiko rose a brow and Mari simply grinned her favorite chesire grin in response. "Don't think too much on the detalles."
"I guess I have nothing to lose," she shrugged, giving Mari a weak smile. She really didn't want to return to Japan to return to body guards in her face all the time and the private-public school drama prominent in Tokyo, but she was nervous at the thought of having to live with nine other kids for two whole years. But... The schools... She honestly did not want to go to a private school again. "We'll ask Papa," Kimiko sighed, resigned. Mari had cheered and that'd been the end of the conversation.
Keiko sat up straight and smirked widely, alerting the other girls of the arrival of fresh gossip. "So did you hear that Ashley was trying to date Jack...?"
Kimiko doodled a little, her mind too preoccupied to remember all the details of their gossip session. She chewed on the eraser of her pencil nervously as she slowly tuned back into the lesson and shot a glance at the wall clock. The whole idea of meeting these people was eating at her even though she knew it shouldn't have been. She groaned and distracted herself with the drawing of a little star, eagerly resolving to not dwell on the subject any more.
Well... at least, not until lunch.
~*Noon*~
Kimiko found her two best friends in the cafeteria, laughing a bit on the inside at how much they stood out in the crowd. She made a quick scan of the other students, noticing that, indeed, everyone else was wearing t-shirts and jeans. Of course. that was far too simple for her friends. She gave both of them a look-over, noticing the tiny and bright Keiko first. Said girl had opted to tie her honey-brown hair into two messy braids, a pair of over-sized white sunglasses propped onto the crown of her head. Her dark brown almond eyes looked around critically, the tiny and round nose scrunched up, showing off her sprinkled freckles. Her bright orange shirt (which looked huge on her tiny frame) was tied on the right into a knot, wrinkling the design a little, but complimenting her gold, big-buckled belt and gladiator sandals that showed off her long toes, and to top everything off, she had a nice big purse for all her books and a pair of lightly shredded shorts, showing off her yellowed, thin legs. Keiko, like her, wasn't very tall and only stood at about five feet even and didn't have a very pronounced body shape under all the clothes.
Mari, on the other hand, was like a small Amazon, standing at average height, but having a wild look about her. Like her and Keiko, she changed her hair color (albeit less frequently) and this time it was a light tan color with several brown low-lights, lighter than her skin and making her seem even darker and more exotic with her hair curly and unruly today. Everything about her was round and curvy, though her chest wasn't very pronounced in comparison to everything else. She always dressed to her strengths and today's ensemble consisted of a strapless canary yellow shirt-dress with a light brown fastener belt under her breasts and matching flats. To stay within school policy, she had on a pair of white tights under her dress and a short-sleeved bolero to cover her shoulders.
'We all went pretty simple today,' Kimiko mused. She herself was recycling a pink tank top, loose denim ruffle-skirt/jacket combo with pink thigh-high socks and blue, worn converse and her favorite rainbow bag. Her hair was ash-blonde with cute little pink streaks for the fun-factor, contrasting against the blue of her eyes and making her already palid skin almost radiate. She was finally spotted.
"KIMI!" Keiko waved her over, her brown and slanted eyes lit up in excitement. They were an energetic trio, if nothing.
She walked over and asked off-handedly, "What are they poisoning us with today?"
"Some pathetic escusa for a taco," Mari said, shaking her head solemnly. "Poor Mejicanos."
She peeked over at the serving windows. "At least it looks edible."
"Looks are deceiving," Keiko said, making a face.
"Suck it up, girls," Kimiko told them, turning both her friends and pushing them forward. "We have to eat."
"¿No te dije?" Mari said nervously. "I'm watching mi figura."
"Liar; you love your figure. Now cut the bull and move!" she commanded sternly. "We have things to talk about!"
After some pushing and effort, the three were soon seated. "Okay!" Mari declared, taking out a pile of pictures she'd brought for Kimiko's sake. "Here's the break-down." Kimiko gripped her pen and notebook, ready to memorize the names and faces of the Pedrosas – even take notes if she had to.
"Mamãe e Pai," she told her, showing Kimiko pictures of her parents. The Japanese girl nodded. She knew them well enough. Keiko just looked on in amusement. Then, Mari took out three pictures from the pile and laid them down. "Their blood-kids." She pointed them out in order from oldest to youngest. She started with a teen that had lightly spiked brown hair and the most curious look of mischief in his smile and jade-colored eyes. "Raimundo," Mari told her, grabbing her attention. "17. He's the oldest of the blood kids y un año older than us. El payaso atlético. Loves to play pranks and hang out with his amigos all the time, but he usually stays out of the way 'cause he juggles his time between fútbol, capoeira, work, and school." Kimiko looked amused as she studied his face, taking in the handsome, but extremely cocky smile. "Omi is teaching him a little Tai Chi 'cause of a little bet they had, so they're out in the yard a lot. The yard is a very used place in our house because todos sabemo' some kind of martial art."
After a pause to allow Kimiko to process the information, the hispanic moved onto the next one after she'd decided that her friend had enough info about Raimundo, pointing to a boy with shaggy, overgrown hair that seemed unable to decide whether it wanted to be straight or wavy. Kimiko noted he had a nice smile and a really cool pair of headphones around his neck. "Kaiki. 14. El payaso numbero dos. Rai's partner-in-crime when it comes to pranking. Can spend hours upon hours talking about absolutamente nada. The guy can make anyone and their mother laugh. Sweet kid, but don't call him Kaiki: call him K or Ki. He gets mad if you call him Kaiki." She nodded and took note of that. "Otherwise, we usually go to him for entertainment recommendations. He loves cartoons and anime, so be careful before he bombards you with questions about Japão; he's always wanted to go, but mãe told him we couldn't afford it." Kimiko grimaced. Fun. "He works too, like the rest of us older than ten."
"Ka... What?" Kimiko looked lost. "How do you even spell that?"
"K-A-I-K-I," Mari spelled out for her.
"Then wouldn't it be Kai-key?" Keiko asked. Mari shook her head and looked at them seriously, grabbing Keiko's face with her hands. The girl blinked.
"Forget that you're Japanese, Kimiko. And Keiko, forget you're Japanese-American. Believe that you're Brazilians for a second." Keiko and Kimiko gave her a strange look. "¡Por Dios! Just do it with me for a second!" Forcing out a huff, Kimiko and Keiko glared at her together. Mari simply grinned at them. "It's pronounced 'Kah-ee-key'. A vowel is always a new syllable in Spanish and Portuguese."
"... You couldn't have just said that?" Kimiko asked. Mari glared at her, giving her a look that reminded her that she didn't have to do this if she didn't want to. Giving a resigned sigh, Kimiko held her hands up in surrender. It was her idea that Mari give her the run-down. "Okay, okay. Who's next?" Grinning, Mari shifted through her pictures quickly.
Next, came a pretty, young girl with long, loosely hair that went down to her waist, framing her circular and pretty face. She noted the girl's thin, heart-shaped mouth with a strong dive in the peak of her upper lip. "Nathalia. 11. The diva-in-making. She's working with Mamãe to get her a modeling contract." Mari rolled her eyes and made an extravagant sweeping motion. "Total dramatica. Loves makeovers and keeping up-to-date with pop-culture. Is a walking make-up encyclopedia. Don't get her wrong, though. She's good company when you're bored. The girl has a talent for making people laugh. Very cute. Call her Nat." Kimiko tried to keep up, furiously keeping notes. Keiko stifled a laugh. "She recently became obsesionada con yoga and healthy eating and caring about the environment and all that porquería. It's really annoying when she comes into the kitchen and starts yelling over oil. Oil, of all things!"
"Mari!" Keiko yelled.
She blinked and shook her head. "Perdon. I get on rants when people mess with mi comida." The other two shook their heads at her. Kimiko couldn't help but to notice that they were all some shade of olive-skinned, a bit or a lot lighter than Mari, with healthy brown hair and various-colored green eyes. The oldest particularly caught her interest with that pretty smile and those deep, handsome eyes...
She snapped back to focus when she saw Mari reaching for more pictures, not looking to get rudely awakened twice in one day. "Here comes the fun part. Los adotados." Mari smirked. "¿Lista?"
"Ready!" Kimiko said confidently.
Mari slapped down a picture of a handsome Asain boy with long black hair that went way past his shoulders, a thin, almost fox-like face, heavily slanted, honey-colored eyes, and lightly tanned skin to the left of Raimundo. "Their first adotado. Shinki. The oldest of the pack. 21. Adopted when he was only 4. Japanese. College-boy; mechanical engineering major and works in an autoshop to make some extra cash. He can fix casi todo. Anything that breaks down in the house gets shoved at him. It definitely saves us dinhero. Hardly ever sleeps. SERIOUS mariposón; he occasionally comes home with a new chick after some partying when he knows mãe e pai are in bed. We tease him sometimes, but don't really say much to get him in trouble and he always makes sure she's out of the house by dawn. Trained as a Kenpo fighter from before he was adopted and refused to let his training go to waste, so pai fincanced his training. He and Rai get along well. They spar sometimes in the yard and hang out together a lot. Call him Shin, Kiki, Shinny. He doesn't really care. Just never call him pretty." Keiko gasped and snatched up the picture.
"He's hot! Can I have him, Mari?"
"Off meu irmão!" Mari scolded playfully, putting the picture back, leaving a pouting Keiko in her wake. Kimiko felt a little relieved; at least she wouldn't be the only Asian in the house jam-packed with Latin Americans.
Mari placed a quick picture of herself between Rai and K and grinned. "No need to tell you what you already know. By the way, I'm the fourth of the Adotados." Kimiko rolled her eyes and urged her on. They'd given up the idea of focusing on eating - picking at their food - in favor of the fill-in for the sake of time, deeming this information far more important.
Taking a quick drink of her water to quench her thirst, Mari pulled out another picture of a yellow-skinned boy with a very large, bald head and nine little white dots arranged in a square tattooed on his forehead and placed it between herself and K. Scratch that. Make that two other Asians. "Isto é Omi. 12. The most recent of the adotados. He's chinese and we picked him up from a temple straight out of China. Don't comment on su cabeza. It's like asking for hell on Earth. He explodes and starts yelling in Chinese." Pausing for dramatic effect, Mari continued. "Oh. My. God," she said, rolling her eyes. "His ego has su own órbita. He's a nice kid, but he's extremely immature for his age. He's obsessed with training and is usually up at dawn, working his little chino ass off. He's the one that forced Rai into more fight training in Tai Chi when pobre Raimundo lost a bet he was bound to lose. It's definitely worth some entertainment to see them arguing. Omi tries to bother Shinki from time to time to get him to spar with him, but all 'Ki does is push him back with the bottom of his foot until Omi gets annoyed. The little guy hates it."
"I can only imagine!" Keiko exclaimed. "But is he really that good of a fighter?"
Mari eyed her suspiciously. "Omi or Shin?"
She fluttered her eyelashes innocently. "Both?" Kimiko rolled her eyes and pushed Keiko away with Mari.
"En tu suenos, chica. He's demaciado viejo for you. My brother is not going to jail for pedophilia por ti." Keiko pouted as Kimiko nudged Mari under the table with her foot, giving her a look that said to hurry up and continue. Mari shook her head and turned to her little pile of pictures.
Finally, Mari placed a picture of two high-cheekboned, carmel-skinned girls with identical faces and mildly slanted light brown eyes after Nathalia. "Micky and Layla. The second and third of the Adotados. 9. Adopted when they were 7 months old. Egyptian, but they might as well be Brasileiras. Elas são muito atléticas. Micky used to do gymnastics up until she was five, pero she discovered freerunning and she basically started going around, practicing that instead." Mari shrugged lightly. "Though she's been trying to get in on some jiu jitsu and capoeria action. Very flexible and loves to show it. Layla prefers Muay Thai." Mari paused. "Cuidado, Kimi. La chica packs a serio punch and has a really bad temper. Don't go picking fights with her. She put K in the hospital por dos dias after he misplaced her favorite toy." Kimiko gave her a 'are you serious?' look and Mari responded with a slight nod. "They're both a pair of little tomboys. Nathalia spends eternidad y un dia trying to get them into skirts." Kimiko gave Mari another look. The Hispanic merely shrugged. "¿Qué digo? We're a colorful bunch." She continued, "Layla still has terrores de noche and sometimes sneaks into my room to sleep with me after a pesadelo. They're quiet sleepers otherwise."
Kimiko took all of this in, trying to remember it all. All the information being given at one time was overwhelming, but she was determined to know her new family! "Ready for the last one?" Mari asked, smiling softly. Kimiko nodded with resolution.
"You go, Kimi," Keiko cheered, amused by the whole thing.
Last, came a round and cubby black boy with a large and puffy afro and a positively adorable smile. "Andre." Mari looked at her friend softly, obviously close to the subject, waiting for a signal to move on. Kimiko nodded with finality. "5. O Bebê. Everyone, and I do mean everyone, babies him. He's a little encantador. Loves to charm people out of the things he likes with his arsenal of cute. Puppy-dog eyes and sullen pouts are his most deadly weapons." Mari looked at her seriously. "Don't fall for it." Kimiko gave her a strange look, but nodded slowly anyway. "He loves tagging along on things."
And now Kimiko knew what the soft and affectionate looks were about. She looked at the picture to get a good look at the baby and her look softened. "He's adorable, Mari."
"The cutest," Keiko agreed before she sighed and rested a hand on her cheek. "Kimi, I'm jealous. Mari's family sounds like a lot of fun and you get to live with them.
"A lot of fun?" Mari laughed dryly, putting away all of her pictures. "More like a lot of a headache."
Kimiko offered, "And maybe we can arrange sleepovers?" At the mention of sleepovers, Keiko instantly cheered up in time for the bell.
"We'll see about that," Mari told Kimiko and Keiko, standing and putting her bag onto her shoulder as they mirrored the action.
Kimiko told them, "I'll see you guys later. Time for more boring classes!"
The other two gave a not-so-enthusiastic cheer. "Hooray!" Kimiko couldn't help but to laugh as she turned around… and ran smack-dab into a wall of flesh, sending both of them crashing back.
"Aye, watch where you're going," the male voice complained as she was left rubbing her backside from the impact.
A/N: D: I can't believe it. Close to 5,600 words of this crap. ._. I guess that means I'm enjoying it? Please review to give opinions (and maybe tell me if you think that I'm being a total rip-off and should stop or continue going). On a side note, go check out Zoerz's story! Nothing's as good as the original! And I know Mari commanded a lot of attention this chapter, but only to get you guys used to her and so she can do her thang as a catalyst. ;)