As usual, Noodle was the first one to wake up.
She was the only one who regularly got up before one or two in the afternoon. She thought the morning was the best time of day and saw no point in wasting it by sleeping when you could have just gone to bed at night like a normal person.
And now she was in Paris, she had absolutely no reason to sleep in when she could explore. Which is what she planned to do.
Noodle filled the kettle with water and stepped out on to the balcony while she waited for it to boil. She could see the Eiffel Tower in the distance, standing out against the clear blue sky. She made a mental note to climb it later on. And drag the boys with her once they woke.
Below her was traffic, human and mechanical, as people went about living their daily lives. She could smell the exhaust, punctuated by a sweet spring breeze. The sun was warm on her face. The penthouse suite did have its perks.
The kettle whistled sharply, and Noodle went back inside. As she made a cup of tea, her mind wandered to all the exciting things she could do during the few days they were here, before practicing for the concerts, and the concerts themselves. Climbing the Eiffel Tower. Visiting the Louvre. Wandering the streets, browsing shops, watching street performers, sampling all kinds of street food, beignets, croissants…
Actually, that last one sounded pretty good. She was pretty hungry, and what better way to celebrate her first morning in France than with pain au chocolate?
Noodle quickly scrawled a note, saying what she'd be doing, in case the others woke up before she got back, then she grabbed her purse and headed out.
The streets were noisy and crowded. but Noodle didn't mind. It reminded her of Japan, where her roots lay.
There was much to see. There were already outdoor stalls selling homemade jewelry, and vendors providing beignets and crepes, already catering to the tourists even though it wasn't even nine o'clock yet. Noodle stopped at one of these vendors and purchased a crepe filled with rich chocolate that oozed out and ran down her chin when she bit into it. She wiped it off and continued to look around as she licked her fingers.
There were the mimes with their powder-white faces, and there was a man riding on a unicycle while juggling plastic bowling pins, enthralling a crowd of children that had gathered to watch. He captured Noodle's attention too, and she stared at the pins being tossed through the air, while not really looking where she was going…
Suddenly, she collided with someone.
"Je suis désolé. Excusez-moi…" They said. (I'm sorry. Excuse me…)
Noodle looked up, and got the biggest shock of her life.
Dr Kyuzo had told her she was the only one to survive, but now, it was evident that that was a lie.
It had been twenty years since they had last seen each other, she had grown up, just like Noodle had, but it was unmistakably her. That small shy smile, the way her too-long bangs fell in her eyes, Noodle recognised these features immediately.
"Tomoko," she breathed, "Number 18."
The woman stared back, looking...confused.
"Je suis désolé, vous devez me prendre pour quelqu'un d'autre." (I'm sorry, you must have mistaken me for someone else.)
Noodle understood what she was saying(she could understand any language, after all) and yet she was lost. Did Tomoko really not know who she was? Who any of them were? Was she even aware of her past at all? It felt like she'd taken a punch to the gut. Tomoko had been her best friend. And now…
The woman continued speaking. "Bien que je ne comprenne pas comment tu ne reconnais pas La Petit Cygne! En tout cas, je dois partir. Au revoir." (Although, I don't understand how you don't recognise The Little Swan! Anyway, I must be on my way. Goodbye.) She then stepped past a dumbfounded Noodle. But she stopped when Noodle grabbed hold of her arm.
"Tomo-er, je veux dire, Petit Cygne!" (Tomo-er, I mean, Little Swan!") Thinking on her feet, Noodle suddenly recalled the phrase that had brought her own memory back.
"Avez-vous déjà mangé un plat appelé bacon de mer?" (Have you ever eaten a dish called ocean bacon?)
Tomoko just stared at her, transfixed, ignoring the bustling crowd that surrounded them. Her eyes became a flurry of confusion, then understanding, then recognition. It all happened so quickly, then she gave a weak moan and sank to her knees. Noodle did the same and placed a comforting hand on her back, once again ignoring the crush of people.
Tomoko looked up at her, and only managed to get out "Haruka! Number 23!" in English before she buried her face in her hands and wailed.
Noodle finally took notice of the crowd and began to lift Tomoko up by her arms. She did not resist, though she continued to wail.
"I know it's a lot to take in at once, believe me. Come on, I'll take you back to my hotel."
By the time the two reached the hotel, got past reception, travelled up in the elevator and seated themselves in the dining area of the penthouse, Tomoko had stopped her feeble cries, but was now shivering. Noodle rebooked the kettle and prepared tea for them both.
"Do you like milk in your tea?" She asked. She got a shake of the head in response.
Noodle filled the mugs with hot water and brought them over to the table. She watched as Tomoko picked up hers with shaky hands.
"What name do you go by, now?" She asked.
"A-Annika. Annika von Torttenstolm."
"Annika," Noodle let the name roll off her tongue, "that's a lovely name. I'm Noodle."
Annika jerked her head up. "Noodle? Like the food?" She sounded incredulous.
Noodle laughed. "Yes, like the food. That was the only English word I knew when I popped out of that Fed-Ex crate."
"I was found in a Fed-Ex crate, too." Annika smiled bleakly, "Mother said I was fast asleep. I woke up in this grand bedroom, in this bed that was way too big for me. And I remember it smelled like lavender. And I was so confused, especially when the servants spoke to me but I couldn't understand them…"
"Have you lived in Paris your whole life?"
"No actually, I was originally shipped off to Vienna, in Austria, but I've moved here to dance."
"Ballet," Noodle smiled, remembering how each of their brothers and sisters were given a special talent. Hers was music, of course. But she suddenly recalled a memory of herself sitting on a drab concrete floor, watching Annika - still back then known as Tomoko - throwing herself through the air and landing on her tippy-toes with the grace and beauty of a leaf landing on the surface of a lake. And Dr Kyuzo was there, smiling at her and clapping.
"What about you?" Annika asked, snapping her out of her reverie.
"Oh, me? Well, I ended up at this dilapidated music studio in the middle of nowhere, England, and these three men were there, Murdoc, 2D and Russel. They were a band and we're looking for a guitarist and I just so happened to have been shipped over with a guitar, so… They became my family." Noodle didn't want to tell Annika about El Mañana and Plastic Beach just yet. A story for another day.
"So! Obviously you don't want me to call you Tomoko anymore, do you?"
Annika shook her head. "God, no! I can't stand that name!"
"Remember the fit you threw when it was chosen to be your new name?"
In an attempt to humanise them in the eyes of the government, Dr Kyuzo had suggested that the children be given names instead of just being referred to by their numbers. Unluckily for Number 18, she'd gotten stuck with one she hated the sound of immediately.
Dr Kyuzo had laughed at this silly little-kid tantrum. The government officials had been less forgiving. Fortunately, Dr Kyuzo had intervened before the officials could. He'd talked to her, explaining to the then-five year old that the 'army men' don't like it when she yelled and that she would need to accept her new name. He made it sound alright.
Annika's grin faded. "I miss Kyuzo. Did you ever meet him?"
"I did. He's doing okay. He's just laying low for awhile."
Just then, another door in the penthouse slammed shut. Twenty seconds later, Russel walked in, looking extremely sleep depraved.
"Mornin' baby-girl," he yawned, then stopped mid-yawn when he saw the other Japanese woman sitting at the table. He rubbed at his eyes. "Who on earth's this?"
