Title: Realistic
Warnings: Uhm. Underage tattooing? Is that even a warning? And a couple of deaths are mentioned in passing.
Rating: PG
Author's Note: Oh my gosh! I am so sorry, everyone. The only excuse I can offer is that I am taking nine courses this semester and it is horrendous. Every week I have about ten projects due. That said, I hope you enjoy this chapter. It took a bit of work because I debated on one scenario or a series. Hopefully it comes across well. Thank you to everyone whose favorited, followed, and left feedback. You all are too kind. And I promise, I'll try and get the next chapter out sooner (I've already got ideas).
2. Odd called her uptight, she saw herself as realistic.
The first is always the worst her father liked to say. It was his go-to answer for scraped knees, failed tests, pulled teeth, lost pets. Yumi had always hated that response. The first time they found out they weren't invincible was no different. But she did wonder if her father would still say the same thing. She never found out because she could never ask him.
"You cut it a little sharp there at the end, goofing off like that," Yumi said to Odd. It wasn't malicious, not yet. She bumped his shoulder and he laughed and bumped her back. Ulrich shook his head and followed just behind them.
"Nah, I'm an ace with timing. Don't be so uptight, Yumi," Odd snorted. "You have to put on a bit of show, otherwise where's the fun?"
"It isn't supposed to be fun," Yumi replied.
"Yeah yeah, you're starting to sound like Einstein," Odd groaned.
"When do you think we set back to?" Ulrich asked. "We're still at the factory."
"Don't know, we'll ask Einstein, hopefully it was after Hertz's test," Odd replied. He bounded into the supercomputer room ahead of them. "Hey, Einstein-!"
Yumi froze in the doorway, stared at the boy sitting hunched in the chair, head in his hands and shoulders shaking. She didn't have to see the screen to know something went wrong.
/
For a week she wore the black ink spelling out P. D. 3/1/04 on the inside of her wrist, right along the blue veins. Ulrich was the first to notice it. Carefully, he took her wrist in his. He turned it so that he could study the writing and when his eyes met hers she saw the pain in them.
"Yumi…" he said.
They hadn't gone to the funeral. But they'd watched it. The four of them huddled under black umbrellas as a mother's sobs filled the graveyard. She waited to hear him say it'll be fine or it'll get better or even it's not our fault.
Instead he squeezed her cold fingers and released her arm. "It's a nice thought," he told her.
Jeremie noticed as they sat waiting for Ulrich and Odd the following morning. She had been stretching her arms out at a rare moment when he lifted his eyes from his laptop screen. He blinked. "What's that?"
"You know what it is," she replied.
"You shouldn't have that. People might know…might wonder…" He looked around as though he expected Milly and Tamiya to pop up with microphone and video camera in hand.
"They won't."
"Yumi, it's dangerous," he told her. "We all regret what happened…you know that. But to have a reminder…you shouldn't have it there."
"Jeremie," she said. He looked up at her, at the pitch to her voice that she couldn't get rid of. "Jeremie, it's something I have to do. No one will know. I won't tell anyone."
He took a breath and when he exhaled he looked concave. "Alright," he agreed, but he didn't sound happy about it.
She never knew if Odd noticed. She didn't catch him looking at it and he never asked about it. It wasn't something she could ask about either.
She hoped he had.
"Yumi, is there something we should…discuss?" her mother asked after school on the fourth day. Yumi looked up, eyes red rimmed and sleepless and shook her head. "Yumi…" Her mother's hand grasped her wrist, fingers just shy of touching the writing.
"It's nothing, just something I wrote for class."
Her mother's eyes were troubled. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure," she replied. Her phone buzzed and she flinched. "I have to go…I'm studying at school."
"Yumi!"
She grabbed the phone and ran.
. . … . .
Her ears were deceiving her. They had to be. She stared at Ulrich incredulously. He looked back, arms crossed over his chest and one shoulder hitched slightly in a what-can-I-say way. "What did you just say?" she asked anyway.
Odd looked up from where he was scribbling something on his arm long enough to watch them. From behind her she heard Jeremie cough. "Guys, we're in a bit of a time crunch here," Jeremie reminded them.
Ulrich shrugged both shoulders properly this time. "You heard me," he said. "I think we should use Sissi."
"Use Sissi?" Yumi repeated.
Jeremie shook his head. "We told you, she can't be trusted."
"She doesn't have to know," Ulrich replied. His eyes wouldn't meet hers though and her stomach clenched uncomfortably tight. She swallowed a couple times and opened her mouth to argue.
"I agree," Odd said. Three heads whipped around to look at him. He offered a smile. "Sissi can be useful. We don't have a lot of time and Sissi's got Delmas wrapped around her finger. It could stop the X.A.N.A. attack from going bad again."
Jeremie frowned and chewed on his lip. "Guys…"
Yumi glowered. "You better be right," she interrupted.
"Don't be a pessimist, Yumers," Odd retorted.
"I'm not, I'm a realist." Odd muttered something she ignored.
"Come on, let's get going then," Jeremie said.
Yumi's eyes met Ulrich's. "You'll be careful?"
"Always am," he replied, but he still wouldn't meet her eyes.
"Right," she agreed and followed the others. She never did find out what Ulrich promised Sissi in order to get her cooperation.
. . … . .
"Don't be such a killjoy, Yumers," Odd laughed. His voice echoed eerily in the factory.
"Don't call me that," she snapped irritably.
"Leave her alone, Odd," Ulrich called. He was writing something in a notebook propped on his knees.
"It's just a party," Odd reasoned. He waggled his eyebrows at Yumi. "Come on, it'll be fun." She knew why he wanted to go. He'd been flirting with Monet Giroux for two weeks now. She played girls' football and had long chestnut hair and grey eyes. And she was known for her party-of-the-century parties.
"Don't you have to study?" she asked. She flipped a page in her book pointedly but it fell on deaf ears.
"Studied before X.A.N.A. decided to attack," Odd replied. His back arched as he stretched. "Lucky for us we had to do a Return, means a free night for once."
Yumi sighed and looked to Jeremie for backup. His nose was buried in some book with faded text on the spine and she groaned. "We can't just go to a party," she said finally.
"Why not?" Odd reasoned. "Monet's throwing it and everyone knows her parties are the best in town. Her parents are in Paris for the night."
"My parents would never let me," she rationalized. "And you're just hoping to kiss her."
"So don't tell them. Come on, relax. Have some fun," Odd replied. She didn't fail to notice his lack of reaction to her second statement. He kicked Ulrich's foot and got a disgruntled look in return. "Nature Boy here's going."
She stared at Ulrich incredulously. "You are?" she asked. She shouldn't have been surprised. She knew Ulrich had gone to parties before (before X.A.N.A. anyway) but he was so secretive. Parties didn't seem like they'd be his scene. Especially not a Monet Party.
He shrugged. "Seems fun. It'd be nice to get away from school for a bit," he admitted.
"Are you telling me you didn't finish your homework last night, before the X.A.N.A. attack?" Odd demanded. "You, who's practically another Jeremie and gets it done a week in advance?"
Yumi huffed and slammed her book shut. "I did, but my parents know I have a History test-"
"Which you already took," Ulrich reasoned.
"Yes, but they don't know that," Yumi snapped. She turned to Jeremie again. "What do you think?"
"X.A.N.A.'s usually quiet after an attack of the last one's magnitude. It might be fun to get out and observe the social interactions of our student peers outside of school."
"See?" Odd exclaimed. "Even Jeremie wants to go!"
Yumi sighed and rubbed her temples. "Alright, I'll come," she muttered.
Odd whooped and nudged Ulrich's foot again. "See, told you I'd get her to come!"
She thought Ulrich might have smiled.
. . … . .
"What did you do?" Yumi asked, eyes wide and vaguely horrified.
Odd grinned at her, arm slung around Aelita's shoulders. Aelita tugged at a few strands of hair and looked uncertain. "Looks good, doesn't it? She's sure to fit in now."
"You…You…"
"Jeez, Yumi, relax. Quit being so uptight, it's not like it's your hair," Odd laughed.
"Don't you like it?" Aelita asked.
"I…I…Yes, of course," Yumi replied. "It's just a surprise."
Aelita's fingers drifted away from the absentminded twirling of the newly dyed hair and her face broke out in a wide, relieved smile. Yumi hadn't realized how much they looked alike until that moment. Same height, same slight build, same eye color, and now the same hair color.
"Oh good, I wasn't sure when Odd first suggested it…but I guess now people won't be staring at my hair all the time, right?"
"Right," Yumi replied. She could see Jeremie and Ulrich approaching behind the so-called cousins. "Have you shown Jeremie yet?"
Aelita's bottom lip disappears between her teeth. "Not yet," she admitted.
"Won't matter," Odd replied. "Guys love blondes." Aelita elbowed him and Yumi sent him a glare. "Well, except Ulrich, I guess," he amended. He waggled his eyebrows at Yumi. "Seems like you're safe."
She kicked him as the boys arrived.
. . … . .
"Did you tell anyone where we were going?" Yumi asked.
Odd shook his head. "No, Ulrich's busy with his sister. Aelita's been kind of distant since…and Einstein'd probably tell on us," Odd replied. He looked over at Yumi and frowned. "You sure about this?" he asked.
"Haven't you already told me to stop being an uptight pessimist?" she asked.
"I never said pessimist," he protested.
"You have," she replied. "But yes, I'm sure." She nodded and took a breath, staring at the shop. It was the day before her sixteenth birthday. They'd taken the train in to Paris after lunch. She was surprised when Odd reached over to squeeze her hand.
"Okay then," he said. "Come on."
A chime rang as they pushed the door open. Yumi looked around at the designs decorating the walls. "How'd you find this place again?" she asked.
Odd stepped around her, eyeing a painting of two koi fish intertwined. "Friend of mine works here." Yumi nodded even though he couldn't see. She let the door fall shut behind her and approached the front desk. A girl came out of an open door and Yumi frowned. She looked familiar. Odd turned and a smile lit up his face. "And here she is. Hey, Sam."
The girl swatted turquoise streaked hair out of her eyes and gave a lazy smile. "Hey, stranger," she said. Yumi remembered her now. She'd grown some but was still willowy. Her dark hair was cut chin length now and she was dressed in a corset and plaid skirt. "You here to see Sean?"
"She is," Odd replied with a nod toward Yumi.
Sam's eyes settled on her for a moment. "Yuna, right?"
"Yumi," she replied. "Hi, Sam."
"Sean's almost done back there. So, do you know what you want to get?"
She didn't look at Odd as she answered, "yeah."
/
Dad's wrong, she thought, grimacing. It hurt just as much the second time. The man, Sean, gave her an apologetic smile but didn't look up from his work. She could hear Odd chattering away with Sam in the reception area and she grit her teeth. The needle buzzed as it went in and out of the thin skin on her wrist.
"So, what's with the initials and dates?" Sean asked. "If you don't mind my asking." He was younger than she anticipated, maybe nineteen or twenty. Sam had sensed her apprehension and pulled out a book of photos of Sean's tattoos to try and calm her.
"Mistakes," Yumi replied. She focused on the stud poking out of his left eyebrow. Something in her voice must have tipped him off because he changed the subject.
"You live in Paris?"
"Outside of it," she answered. "Why tattooing?" she asked.
"Canvas was too boring," he replied. She laughed despite herself and he flashed her another grin. "No challenge."
"I'm sure," she replied.
"It's the truth," he protested. A moment of silence and then he was putting aside the needle and blotting lightly at her skin. "You're done."
"Thanks." She checked her arm; saw the black ink stark against the pale inside of her wrist. P. D. 3/1/04 and, below it, M. G. 30/4/06. She started to get up and Sean grabbed her arm. She looked up at him in surprise.
"You ever make any more mistakes, you give a call, okay?" he asked. He handed her a business card. "Even if it's not one that needs to be written down."
She might have cried, if she hadn't cried for the past two days. Instead she nodded and slipped his card into her pocket. "Thanks," she repeated.
Odd looked up when she entered the reception area, followed by Sean. His eyes fell to her wrist and the initials and dates. "Looks good," he said, and there was an odd note to his voice.
The first is always the worst, her dad liked to say. She touched the raw skin around the tattoo and frowned. It wasn't true. Michel Girard hurt just as much as Phillippe Dumas had. She held her arm out as Sean put the bandage over it, took the instructions that Sam handed her.
"Come on," Odd said. "Lets go."
Odd liked to tease her by calling her uptight or pessimistic, but walking out of that tattoo shop, feeling his eyes on her bandaged arm, she knew he knew. It wasn't pessimism to know your limits. It wasn't being uptight to try and prevent the risks. They were on the Metro when she nudged him.
"Thanks for coming with me today," she said when he looked at her.
He gave her a small smile and nudged her back. "Anytime, Yumers." She didn't protest the nickname this time.