Malik and Kadar were two very different sides to the same coin. Altair was painfully reminded of this when the younger of the Al-Sayf brothers appeared on his door step.

"Hi!" Kadar said brightly. "Can I have a ride?"

Kadar, fashioned after one of those hipster types that crowded in coffee shops, were savvy thrift store shoppers, and infected most of the Greater Northwest, stood with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his black skinny jeans.

"You had to take a bus to get here," Altair said flatly, resisting the urge to just shut the door in the youth's face. "Why didn't you just stay on it?"

Kadar turned his eyes to the right. "Uhh, it's complicated." His blue eyes snapped back to meet Altair's golden stare; an innocent grin on his face. "So can I?

Unlike the older of the two brothers, Kadar was impulsive. Altair assumed some sort of wheatpaste street art or alternative girl with a face full of metal caught his eye that spurned on his detour.

"Depends." Altair said after a pause.

"I need to go to the SAM." Kadar replied while adjusting the shoulder strap of his messenger bag.

Altair stared at Kadar for a moment before shutting the door. It was to be expected, Kadar being an Art History major and all, but Altair could not help but chuckle at how fucking stereotypical it was for a hipster kid to spend his Saturday at a museum. He did have to give the kid some credit though. He wasn't like those irritating type of hipsters that walked around claiming to have known of something before it was popular, chain smoked, or spouting some elitist bullshit.

Altair shrugged into a zip-up hoodie, and grabbed his keys from the dish by the door before opening it again. Kadar had his head bent down, but his baby blues were looking up at Altair through his fringe and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Altair felt irritation prickle his flesh, the kind of annoyance you got with a family member that knew you all too well. Though unrelated, he knew the youth since his birth and grew up alongside his older brother. Malik and Altair were six and seven when Kadar was born. Being an only child himself, Altair regarded Kadar like a sibling, much like he did his younger cousins. He shared Malik's annoyance when his mother forced Kadar upon them, and he also shared his protectiveness when older boys would pick on him. Kadar was easily likable, and Altair often found himself giving into the boy's requests, much like he was now. That wasn't what was irritating Altair as he pressed the button to unlock his Sonata. It was that knowing smile Kadar had sometimes. Unlike his younger cousins which were quick to tattle, Kadar would feign innocence to the older boy's shenanigans, but he would smile at them in a way that let them know that he knew. The first time Altair had encountered that smile he expected Kadar to pull something like Claudia would, demanding some sort of present to keep her silence. No such request ever came, like knowing of Altair's, or Malik's or the Auditore brothers transgressions was enough. But this time the smile on Kadar's face wasn't because of a secret that would keep him from being grounded for months, but from the fact that Altair wouldn't say no to him.

"How often do you go to that place?" Altair asked starting the engine.

"To the museum?" Kadar asked flopping into the passenger seat. "Maybe eight or nine times a month? It really depends on the assignment."

Kadar pushed up the sleeves of his sweater as they pulled out of the parking garage attached to Altair's apartment complex. Altair's eyes swept over the youth's forearms. They were toned but nowhere near as defined as his own or the older Al-Sayf brother. He remembered sparing a few times with Kadar when he and Desmond had first started their martial arts training. Kadar was graceful, and quick, his movements fluid like ink in water. He didn't have a lot of power behind his punch, but with the speed of his movements enabled him to land several that would leave stinging welts. Altair inevitably came out the victor and Kadar would laugh at his own demise, an endearing smile on his face. The Master ultimately decided that he, and Desmond, were not ready to complete their training and told them to broaden their knowledge of many things elsewhere.

"Today is the last day of the Seurat exhibit," Kadar's voice tore Altair from his reverie. "And with the deadline for my post-impressionism paper looming closer I wanted to see if I could translate some of his Chromoluminarism more eloquently."

Altair looked away from the road to give Kadar a confused glance.

"Chromo- what?"

"Commonly known as divisionism." Kadar laughed, eyes curving with his smile.

"Ah, colors mechanically arranged so that the eye organizes the shape." Altair nodded slowly.

In the corner of his eye he could see Kadar beaming at him. Kadar had always been the type to become easily excited when he found someone with a common interest, or knew anything about art that was worth knowing that wasn't Leonardo.

"So what other classes are you taking this quarter?" Altair asked looking over at him stopping at a red light.

"Just a life drawing class." Kadar replied, his eyes sweeping over Altair before quickly looking out the window. "I thought about starting my Archeology courses this term too, but, I'm not Malik. I can't take three heavy classes and still pull a 4.0 out of my ass."

Altair snorted and turned his attention back to the road. Both Malik and Kadar were ambitious, but Malik could handle academic stress much better. During their junior year of college Malik had taken 20 credits, and worked nights and still magically maintained a 3.9 grade average. Now at 26 he was working full time and taking his Masters course online, as well as doing his translations for the Brotherhood. Altair struggled to keep his GPA at 3.0 only taking 15 credits and working part-time. In the end he came out of it with his BA in Archeology which he only used when the Brotherhood sent him over seas.

"Let me know if you need any help when you start taking those classes." Altair said after a pause. "Or if you need books."

"Dude, that'd be so mint." Kadar said with a grateful tone.

Altair glanced at Kadar as the early 1980's slang slipped past his lips. Kadar had his phone out and a smirk played across his face.

"Desmond's on time for once." Kadar snorted shaking his head slightly.

"You're meeting Desmond? At a museum?" Altair asked skeptically as he pulled up to the building in question.

Sure enough Desmond was leaning up against the colossal Hammering Man sculpture chatting with their cousin Claudia. Perplexed, Altair whipped his head around to watch Kadar scramble out of the car. After adjusting his scarf and messenger bag he leaned down and grinned at the older man.

"We're in the same class, but this is Desmond's first trip here since the beginning of the quarter. Claudia's just hanging out until she's supposed to meet Paola and Annetta at The Market." Kadar explained quickly. "Thanks for the ride."

And there was that smile again, accompanied by a mischievous glint in his eye. Before Altair could even respond the passenger side door was shut and Kadar was jogging over to his childhood friends.