A/N: Another chapter, some more character development. (I hope!)

anonymouscsifan: thank you for all your reviews! reading them makes me so happy! I'm glad you like where their friendship seems to be going :)

The italicized-dialogue in the first part of this chapter means the characters are speaking in Japanese.

Chapter 8/Chapter 10

Japan, 1570.

"Arigato," Nora said and gratefully accepted the cup of tea.

"You are welcome," her saviour replied, moving to the fire to prepare his own drink.

Nora sat back, happy to relax—for the moment.

A fierce gust of wind blew open the only window in the hut; she pulled her kimono tighter around her. There was a storm outside, which was uncommon in the province of Ishikawa—especially during the winter months.

So, Nora thought. It's Japan this time.

She didn't mind Japan; the people were nice, and the weather was (usually) nicer. Plus: they had invented the most comfortable piece of clothing ever known to man. If only she could wear a kimono every day.

This was the second—no, third time she'd come here. And with her bi-monthly travelling rate, Nora wished she could return more often.

There was just one thing she disliked about Japan: ninjas.

Honestly, ninjas were overrated. Nora didn't doubt that any third-grade super-fan would change their mind faster than a windmill in a tornado if they ever actually ever met one.

Ninjas were sneaky, smelly, and distrustful people. They'd captured her when she was thirteen, and despite her speaking their language, and she'd been thrown in jail for the entire Easter long-weekend. She'd nearly been poisoned, stabbed, and pushed off a cliff all in the course of her escape.

To put it cleanly, she much preferred the silent-yet-wise and leagues-more trusting attitudes of the samurai.

It had been a long day, and she was tired. Lulled by the rhythmic sound of the crackling fire, Nora's eyes slowly fell further and further closed. And despite the raging storm outside, she quickly succumbed to the open arms of sleep.

She was woken hours later, by the bright glare of the sun, and the pounding in her skull.

"I am so sorry," she apologized. "I did not mean to intrude on your generous hospitality."

"Do not dwell on it," the elderly man said. "It was my pleasure to host such a kind stranger."

Nora smiled, "I cannot thank you enough. If you had not found me, I may have died in that storm." She paused, "But why did you help me? I could've been a thief, or some other kind of unruly character… Not to mention my skin colour… I'm sure people of my race are not widely accepted here."

"I consider myself a good judge of character," he frowned, wrinkles creasing his forehead. "And besides, I doubt that you would have been doing much thievery in the state you were in," he said, referring to her previous state of undress.

Nora was about to say something, but he spoke again before she could.

"And if you are about to refer to your ancestry again, please know that it does not matter to me: only that you were in need of my help."

Nora grimaced, not wanting to point out that this attitude—no matter how kind—would probably get this man killed someday. She couldn't help wishing that everyone could be like this man. Kind, helpful, and non-discriminatory.

"How long was I asleep?" She needed to know.

"Only a few hours."

Great. That meant it was almost dark back in the present. Her present, that is.

It was a Sunday, so if she didn't get back soon, Nora would probably find herself falling asleep in class.

Her flexed her fingers, knuckles popping unnaturally. Then another wave of pain hit her head. That was usually the sign; it was time for her to go.

She stood up abruptly, waving back her saviour as he moved to help her.

"It's time for me to go," she said.

"What?" he asked, confused. "Where will you go?"

Nora put a hand on his shoulder. "I cannot express how grateful I am for you help. But it is best if you do not know."

Shun sat back down, a dejected look on his face.

Nora hid one of her already-glowing hands in the folds of the kimono.

"May I keep this?" she asked. Nora wanted to test something out.

"Of course," Shun tried to offer food and other items, but Nora firmly refused.

He assumed she would be going on a long journey, which was partly true—except that it would only take a few agonizing seconds for that journey to be made.

Ending their conversation on a bittersweet note, Nora swiftly exited the hut and made her way into the depths of the forest she'd come from.

And like she had so many times before: she didn't look back.

January 30th, 1972.

It was midnight when she got back home. Although her "home" was technically an abandoned four-plex in the furthest outskirts of Silver Spring.

Nora reappeared in the closet she'd shut herself in beforehand. Her clothes were there on the floor, right where she'd left them.

Nora tried to sleep—she really did—but it wouldn't come.

So instead, she put on her gym strip, and ran out into the pitch-black night.

The sky was clear, and she could make out many of the constellations depicted a million miles over her head.

She found running refreshing, even if it made it hard to breathe and gave her cramps. She used the time to think about things.

She thought about Wanda, and how she really shouldn't be making another friend. Not after what had happened last time.

Two sides of herself warred against one another.

DON'T YOU dARE GET CLOSE TO ANYONE! YOU COULD KILL HER! SHE MIGHT DIE! AND IT'S NOT LIKE YOU NEED ANY MORE BLOOD ON YOUR HANDS? Right?!

Nora concluded that side A was right on many parts; but the fact that thinking about it gave her a raging headache made her lean towards side B.

Well you're being extra careful this time; you scouted out all the possible hiding places if an attack were to occur: good work. And Wanda's just so nice, and funny and talented—and it was also her who approached you, right? So there's nothing you could've done about that…

Of course, Nora knew exactly what she could do about Wanda. What she could've done…

Hah! But it was too late now! If she had really wanted her gone, Nora should've turned time back the day she met her.

Nora thought about Shun. About why such an open-minded man like him couldn't be ruling Japan? And why everyone couldn't just be as accepting as he was towards different people?

Nora returned to her section of the house at 1:26 in the morning. She didn't bother changing or showering and just went to bed.

She was spent.

Peter cursed under his breath when he saw the test mark.

19/50 See me after class!

His mum wouldn't be happy, to say the least. And he had no doubt Mull was giddy at the thought of failing him again this term. To say that they disliked each other was a severe understatement.

"Another excellent mark, Anne!" Mr. Mull praised as he handed the brunette's test back.

French-loving nerd, Peter thought, along with a few more colourful terms.

To be honest he didn't get what was so special about the girl. Wanda spent at least a third of their dinner conversations raving about her, but so far, Anne Green just seemed like your average wall-flower.

Not to mention, she had humiliated him in front of the entire cafeteria population. Peter was usually the one who shocked people into silence, not some mouse-haired newbie!

He wondered if Wanda had told her they were siblings? She usually didn't…

Surprisingly, both Peter and Nora were waiting at Mr. Mull's desk at the end of class.

So far, their relationship had only elevated to the point of harsh glares and whispered insults. Peter had gone through her locker twice, and each time he'd found the same boring stuff.

The only (somewhat) interesting thing was a dog-eared copy of A Wrinkle in Time. (He had been forced to read it in the seventh grade.) Inside, there were countless margins crowded with notes; circled paragraphs, and the occasional paper insert. The strange thing was, it was all written in French.

All he could think of at the moment had been: if she already speaks—or writes—french, then why the hell is she in here?

"Ah! Peter!" Mull shooed Anne away to give the two of them some privacy. "I'm afraid I'll need your mother to sign this test." He wasn't afraid, in fact: he looked downright happy! "-so I know that she knows the current state of your grade."

Peter grumpily snatched his test back and stalked out of the room. There was no need to ask Mull for his grade; he was failing—obviously.

"Miss Green," Mr. Mull walked over to the desk she was leaning on. "How has the start at Maple Grove been?"

She nodded, uncertain as to why he'd kept her after class. "It's been fine… I guess."

He frowned, "Do you change schools a lot?"

"Yes, my father's work moves us around quite a bit."

"Ah, that is unfortunate."

Anne took in a silent breath; she wasn't sure where this conversation was going.

"Alright then; I'll cut to the chase," he said. " You're very smart, aren't you, Anne?"

"Erm… I beg your pardon?"

"You've either aced—or come close to acing every assignment that's been handed out. And that certainly shows a lot more work ethic than anyone else in this class."

What?! She was!? Nora hadn't really been paying attention to what was going on in this class. She rarely studied for the tests, but somehow, in her absentminded-ness, she'd forgotten to act average! Unable to figure out where she went wrong, Nora settled with a, "What are you getting at, sir?"

Mr. Mull got up and slowly began to pace the front of the class, a scare tactic he often used during exams.

"There is one student failing this class," he admitted. "Actually, there are many! But there is one in particular I'd rather not see in here again next year." He turned towards her suddenly, "Could I interest you in a tutoring job, Anne?"

"What?" This wasn't good: making connections wasn't good.

"I can promise you it won't take up much of your free time!" he pleaded, "Just an hour or so every Thursday?"

"Would I be paid?" Nora asked hesitantly.

"Well of course!" Mr. Mull threw up his hands, "It- it would come out of my own pocket, of course! I'd be willing to pay… four dollars a session?"

Anne's eyes bugged out of her head. Four dollars?! That was eighty cents above minimum wage!

Catching a bad vibe from her, Mr. Mull's face fell.

Nora felt sorry for the man. He lived alone—unless you counted the two or more cats. (There was hair all over his jacket.) He had been divorced for at least a few years; previously married for more, judging by the circular tan-line on his ring finger. His rumpled clothes and uncombed hair (what was left of it, that is) suggested a severe case of not-giving-a-shit-itis.

He was lonely, desperate… suicidal? Nora knew the feeling.

"Four dollars sounds great."

His face lit up.

Nora gathered her things into her bag. "So, when do I start?"

"Is this Thursday okay? I'll introduce you to the student and you can work in here." He gestured to his plain, undecorated classroom.

"Okay, thank you for the opportunity." Nora tried to sound gracious; like Anne. Though one side of her consciousness screamed for her to stop this madness.

She decided that saying no to his offer would most likely draw even more unwanted attention to herself.

Nora returned home that day feeling slightly elated. She was going to help someone. Maybe two people.

And who knows? Maybe having some extra money will help out? Maybe I won't have to steal so much.

A/N: Shun's name is pronounced Shoe-n.

Thoughts?