Disclaimer: I don't own Yin Yang Yo
Title: The Difference Between 'Home' And 'Family'
Summary: Yin and Yang had always considered themselves family, and Master Yo and the others to be home. But perhaps it was time to change their thinking?
...
From day one, people had always told them that they would never make it together, that they were too different not to hate each other, and had the situation been different, Yin would have been inclined to agree. She and Yang had never gotten along; never had, never would. But that didn't mean they wouldn't stick together.
The reason was simple. Being together meant that they would never have to be alone. She had never been forced to say the dreaded 'I.' The horrid 'I am an orphan' or 'I am alone.' They were their own little family. Things weren't nearly as lonely with 'we' in place of 'I.' 'We are orphans' or 'We are without parental guidance' (because they couldn't ever truly be alone when they were with each other) Yin had never been forced to learn how to grow up and be completely independent. She'd always had Yang to fall back on, and she had no doubt that Yang felt the same way.
Turning in those coupons hadn't been about learning self-defense or preparing for a great evil, it'd been about having a roof over their heads that didn't have twelve other kids under it all the time as well. They hadn't expected things to end up how they did. Yin hadn't expected things with Master Yo to end up as they did, either.
Don't get her wrong, she respected and admired Master Yo. That was what the term 'Master' meant, wasn't it? Teacher, instructor, someone wiser and more capable than you at something that was willing to teach you how to get better at what they were good at. (Then again, if one were to get technical about things, there were lots of people in their lives that could be their Masters due to their age, so perhaps the last one was a little to much.)
A good friend and elder? Yes. Family?... Well, they hadn't planned on it being that way.
The first time Master Yo had called them a family had left left a bad taste in her mouth. Yang was her family, just as she was his, but Master Yo was a whole other entity entirely. Master Yo was capable of breaking their bond. They weren't.
Master Yo and the dojo were home. Home and family were two very different things. Yang didn't know how to treat anyone besides her as family. Neither did Yin. Neither of them knew where the boundaries lay and what would be a crossing of them. Was a hug too much? A mumbled, totally un-romantic, 'I love you?'
She couldn't leave family. Yang couldn't leave family. They could leave home.
They didn't understand friendship much either. Neither of them were particularly anti-social, but they'd never needed anyone else. Sure, they hung out with groups of the same gender here and there just so they could have some girl/boy time, but they couldn't really be considered friends. Boundaries were a problem there as well. Was a brush of the shoulder or arm, no matter how accidental, a breach of their personal bubble? Was it wrong to call someone over just to have someone to talk with while you studied? Did you need a good reason to hang out? Was it okay not to?
Master Yo was one thing. Master Yo and the Woo-Foo-knights-in-a-little-less-training? She blew a puff of air out of her mouth; a small sigh. She had no clue.
'We' had always meant 'Yin and Yang.' 'Us' had always been 'Yin, Yang, and the occasional addition of Master Yo.' 'Them' and 'They' had always been 'everyone else.' But having a 'us and them' attitude would only make things that much harder. Where did the boundaries lie for friends who were also family? She shook her head; Yin just didn't know.
"Monologuing to yourself again?"
Most would've grit their teeth at the sound of Yang's voice- herself included- but Yin took comfort in his presence by her side. Was he annoying and childish? Yes, but he was also caring and always ready to fight for what he believed in. Together, it was almost impossible for either of them to truly be hurt.
Yin shrugged, lifting her hands into the air, palms up. "Eh, what can I say? It's a habit."
Yang didn't answer, caught up in the swarm of creatures scattered about the dojo. Yin allowed herself to become immersed in things as well, finding the waves of noise to be unexpectedly loud. She was used to silence when she and Yang weren't training, only punctuated by the odd panda grunt or the reading of a scroll or book aloud. Now the dojo was filled with students, creatures who were learning how to fight or were sprawled out reading and writing. The difference is... staggering, to say the least.
Yang was the one who broke the verbal silence, purple eye's slipping away from Rodger Jr. and Dave doing target practice to her face. "This is... going to take some getting used to."
She shrugged. "Its not like they're moving in, Yang. The dojo is still going to be ours after sundown." Most Woo-Foo students moved in with their Masters to heighten the learning, but most of the knights-in-a-little-less-training had happy, protective, families they loved too much to move away from so early in life, or they had their own makeshift homes away from the dojo so they could get away and have a break.
"I wasn't talking about that."
One glance at Yang told her that he was thinking the same thing she was, and while his verbal vocabulary didn't have the proper words to explain it (the distinction has to be made because, while his verbal tongue was simple and sometimes lacking, his written vocabulary was surprisingly extensive compared to what most would expect), he knows hers does, and he's leaving it up to her to mention it or not.
"Yeah, I know." She sighed and slumped slightly. Not enough to be a full slump, but just enough to be noticeable by present brotherly company. "Yang?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you know... never mind." She bites her tongue. Yang's as clueless about family/friendship boundaries as she is.
Yang doesn't press her. He probably thinks he wouldn't understand what she was asking, and, in a way, he doesn't. Neither of them do.
For a moment, the noise of targets being struck and breaking and the turn of a page a room away are the only sounds in the dojo. Then, Yang speaks. "Yin?"
"Yeah?"
He hesitated. "We... We'll still be sibs if we do this, right?"
"What?" It clicks. They'd seen multiple siblings break apart over the years, having gotten lost in the crowd of a large family. They wouldn't be the first closely-knit brother/sister group to fall apart in the midst of a crowd. Her eyes travel to the floor. "Oh. I... I don't really know, Yang." She swallowed, suddenly nervous. She didn't want that to happen to them. "I hope not."
Yang's shoulders relaxed. "Okay. I mean, I wasn't worried or anything, its just confusing, you know?" He waved a paw, feigning disinterest.
Yin sees right through him. She always has.
"We were okay when it was just us, weren't we?" He asks. Yin shook her head.
"You know what?... I don't think we were, really. I think we were just telling ourselves that." She paused, her paws grabbing at her elbows. "I never felt quite as safe as I do now when it was just the two of us. Did you?"
Yang didn't answer, but the glow in his eyes tells her he agrees.
"Who'da thought we'd end up with a big family, huh?" He chuckled nervously.
Family. Not home. Family. Yin certainly hadn't.
"Yeah, but..." She trailed off, watching them all fondly as they trained. "I'm glad."
They could do this. Eventually.
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