Gi stared at her birth certificate, quietly, thinking.

It was early morning, before anyone else was up. The island was totally silent, and in the dawn morning light, she stared at it, unable to tear her eyes away. Memories threatened to flood over her. At the same time, a dark, solemn sort of feeling was settling about her shoulders. Somehow she'd almost forgotten about this. Somehow, living among a group of gaijin, she'd forgotten that this still loomed above her like a curse. Once she didn't have to deal with it everyday, it had almost lost meaning.

Almost.

"Gi?" A voice startled her out of her reprieve. It was a sleepy, yawning Ma-Ti. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," she lied, and started to pull the paper away, but he leaned over and took it from her. The gentleness of his grip prevented her from yanking it from him. Sighing, she amended, "My birth certificate. It's not important."

He looked at her, and somehow he just knew. Quietly, he sat beside her on the sand. "Yes it is. Gi, why are you so sad?"

There was a hefty silence as she looked away, quietly gathering her thoughts. There had to be a way to explain this so that it didn't make her sound so incredibly Japanese. Other people from other cultures didn't have to worry about this. Especially not Ma-Ti's people. There wasn't any way to describe it she could find that would make sense. Once she thought about it, it was pathetic. It was stupid. Her brown eyes far away, she bit her lip, struggling not to dismiss it again. Ma-Ti would simply read right through her mask of calm anyway. He always did.

"In Japan, in kanji-" she blurted out abruptly, then paused to recompose herself. "There are many ways to write a name. Even the ti in your name, for example, could be spy or bottom or garden or a bunch of other things."

He gave her a blank look. Remembering he probably had very little idea of what Japanese writing looked like - it hardly came up in his life, after all - she drew the three kanji she'd named for the last part of his name in the sand with a stick.

"All of those mean ti?"

"Yes, but each also means something different. They're like self-contained names." Gi smiled, ruffling his hair affectionately. "And gi can be frolic or ceremony, but they'd be pronounced the same. Understand?"

"I do," he nodded, reminding her strongly of a child, "But I don't understand what's wrong with your name. Gi is a very nice name, I think."

Gi's expression darkened, and for a brief instant, he saw past that normal mask of total calm she wore. Her expression soured as she spoke the next words with a heaviness that seemed to make time stop.

"My parents didn't name me frolic or ceremony, Ma-Ti. They named me deceit."

His eyebrows shot up as she drew her knees to her chest, looking away very pointedly. Pretending it didn't matter. Pretending she hadn't gone through elementary school having the kanji thrown at her by other kids whose parents had the foresight to name them things like flowers, colors and numbers. Pretending she'd never been in a highschool class and had everyone snicker at her when the teacher taught them her kanji. Pretending it didn't hurt that her parents had called her a lie before she ever could speak. This wasn't Wheeler or Linka, Ma-Ti realized as he watched her. This wasn't someone who was okay being mad at someone. Gi wouldn't tell anyone about this except him, and once he realized that, he felt honored.

"Did you ask them why?"

"They never told me." She replied softly. "I don't understand what I did to deserve it."

"Well," Ma-Ti noted with all seriousness, "You did grow into it."

Now it was her turn for her eyes to go wide.

"You never tell anyone what's bothering you. You're easily the most quiet out of all of us. You never talk about your family, Gi, or your friends. I'm not saying it's a bad thing - after Wheeler, I don't think we could take another loud Planeteer," he smiled briefly at her before continuing, "But you wouldn't make a very good frolic-gi. It wouldn't fit. You're more of a secret keeping gi. More trustworthy." He paused. "Did that come out right?"

Her pale arms wrapped around him, she pecked him affectionately on the cheek. The weight she'd felt wrap around her had been lifted, somehow, and she felt years younger. "Yes, it did. Thank you, Ma-Ti."

"Uh, you're welcome," he blinked, cheeks going dark red. "I just said what I thought was obvious."

"Yeah," she murmured as she stood up and walked away, "And I needed that a lot."

This time, when she put her birth certificate away, it would not be hidden in a box and forgotten until she found it. It wouldn't be concealed like an awful secret no should ever know. Quietly placing it on top of her dresser, Gi smiled to herself. Although it went against years of her classes and education, for some reason, all she could see when she looked at her name's kanji was trustworthy. Flashes of childhood taunting were banished from her mind. She didn't see snickering faces when she pictured her name anymore.

She saw Ma-Ti talk, unthinking and from the heart. The counter her own overly thought out, calculated nature.

The yin to her yang.