I don't own Code Lyoko. It'd be totally cool if I did though.

"Mom, I'm home!" Yumi called out. Kadic Academy was a boarding school, but Yumi was a day student since her family lived so close.

"Hi, sweetie," her mom replied, coming in from the kitchen to greet her. "How was the game?"

"Fine. We won. More importantly, I filled out the card saying I went, and I only have to attend four more events this semester."

"Well, that's wonderful, darling! Just don't forget to turn it in, or you won't receive any credit for going. Your father should be home in about 15 minutes, so go ahead and wash up for dinner," Mrs. Ishiyama said.

Yumi nodded in compliance and climbed the stairs, entering her bedroom and flopping down on the bed. She glanced around, not really thinking about anything. The room was that of a typical teenaged girl: a poster of Yumi's favorite band adorned the wall next to her dresser; clothing littered the floor, and she had schoolbooks and papers scattered here and there in a general disarray. On the wall above Yumi's bed hung a bulletin board to which many pictures of Yumi's friends and family were tacked. Yumi had lived in France for three years now, but she still missed Japan as if she'd left only yesterday. The pictures helped ease her loss. Yumi's eyes fell on a picture in the center of the board, one that by its position and size signified its prominence. The picture showed Yumi tightly embracing an older boy as they both beamed at the camera. Yumi closed her eyes.

The boy was what Yumi missed most about Japan. It was her brother, Kisho. He and Yumi had been extremely close, telling each other everything. Kisho had never seen Yumi as the bratty kid sister, and didn't act like a jerk who just couldn't be bothered with her problems, no matter how trivial. Yumi had adored him.

But Kisho was gone now. At the age of just fifteen, Kisho became a statistic, the unfortunate victim of a terrorist bombing of one of Japan's train systems, when Yumi was only ten. Kisho had been on his way home from buying a birthday gift for her, and Yumi blamed herself for his death. She began wearing black clothing every day as an expression of her sorrow, and though her parents normally would have objected, they said nothing in respect of their daughter's heartache. Soon after Kisho's death, the Ishiyamas moved to France. It seemed to Yumi that her parents were trying to escape Kisho's memory, though it was never discussed.

Kisho had been fiercely patriotic. He loved everything about his culture. "We Japanese are unique, Yumi. We've got this amazing balance between our history and our future, and while we'll never forget our past, we don't let it hold us back and keep us from progressing. We won't be stuck in time," he'd once told her. Yumi smiled bitterly at the irony. Kisho would never get to grow up. He would be stuck in time, caught, like a fish in a net with no escape, unable to move forward or return to how he'd been. Yumi brushed away the tears that had gathered in her eyes, and stood up to leave. But before she exited the room, she glanced up at the picture again.

"I love you, Kisho," she whispered.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Ulrich," Mr. Stern pressed on.

Watch him start talking about my grades, Ulrich thought

"Your mother and I a bit concerned about your grades."

Oooh! Did I not just call that?

Ulrich's mother stepped in. "Sweetie, I know you're busy with soccer, but this is really unacceptable. You're failing math, and nearly failing half your other classes, with the exception of gym!"

Ulrich didn't know what to say.

"Soccer is an extra curricular activity. Academics need to come first. I'm sorry Ulrich, but unless your grades improve, I'm afraid we'll have to take you off the team."

Ulrich promptly found his voice.

"WHAT?" he shouted, jumping out of his seat. "You can't do that!"

"I can, and I will, Ulrich, if that's what it takes."

Ulrich looked furiously from his father to his mother. Mrs. Stern met the gaze head on, but Mr. Stern couldn't, and stared down at his hands. Ulrich kicked the chair in anger and moved to leave but his mother caught his arm.

"Honey, I know this is hard, but it's for the best. I'm sure you can get one of your friends to tutor you. This won't be a problem; I know you'll get those grades right up. Now please sit down, sweetie, let's finish our nice meal."

Ulrich sat and crossed his arms, his mouth set in a tight, angry line. The conversation for the rest of the dinner was forced, limited, and uncomfortable, not extending much past "Looks like it's going to rain. "Yup."" All parties were extremely glad when it finally ended.

The next day at school, Ulrich was determined to learn and catch up. Soccer was his life; no way could he give it up. But he soon realized that he was so far behind, it was hopeless. Ulrich sulked about this for awhile, then thought back on his mother's tutoring suggestion. Ulrich, figuring he had nothing to lose, set his sights on finding a tutor. He scouted the entire grade and marveled at the sheer number of people he didn't even know. Finally, he narrowed it down to two people: pimply Herb Pichnon, or the equally nerdy computer whiz, Jeremie Belpois. Ulrich had never spoken a single word to either of them; neither were in his circle of friends (a.k.a., the soccer team), but Ulrich knew it had to be one of them after math class that day.

Flashback

"Here you are, Jeremie, nice work," Mrs. Giles, the math instructor said. The blonde boy accepted the test she handed him- virtually unmarked, except for the big red 100 at the top. Jeremie didn't look surprised, just tucked it into his bag as Ulrich stared jealously.

Why can't that be me?

"Herb, also very nice," Mrs. Giles said, handing the acne prone boy a test identical to Jeremie's. Herb smiled satisfactorily at his 100, and Ulrich's heart sank lower. Mrs. Giles came closer to him.

"Ulrich, I'd like to speak with you after class," she said softly, laying his test face down in front of him. Ulrich lifted the edge of his test nervously, as though he thought it might be a bomb.

Ouch.

It looked as though an inkpen had exploded on his test. Checkmarks scattered the pages, along with notes detailing where Ulrich's thought processes had gone wrong. But what stuck out the most was the glaring red 36 at the top of the paper near his name. He groaned. If Jeremie or Herb couldn't save him, Ulrich was sunk.

Ulrich decided to try Jeremie first, as Herb ran around with (and had a huge crush on) Sissi Delmas, the most persistent and most irritating fan-girl of them all. As far as Ulrich knew, Jeremie had no friends. He'd talk to him at lunch.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's note: In case you're wondering where in the heck Odd is, fear not! I didn't forget him. I have decided to go by what I know of the Garage Kids pilot, and I think in that he didn't come in till later, so that's what's going on there. Please review, I am desperate for advice on how to improve this! Skipperdee