Author's Note: This chapter veers more toward the T rating.

12. She tried not to like Will (he was everything she swore she wouldn't fall for) but it was only a matter of time (and they all knew it).

Will's hands were soft, except for the calluses on his fingertips. She knew because the first time they'd met, he flashed her a smile and brushed the hair out of her face, fingertips lingering against her cheek. "Don't want it to get in the paint," he stated, pointing at the banner she was making.

"Right," she replied.

He gave her another easy smile. "William Dunbar, new transfer." He held his hand out and she laughed, shaking it.

"Yumi Ishiyama."

"So, Yumi," he said slowly, elongating his vowels at the same slow pace as the corners of his smile, "what's fun in town?"

Staring at his laughing eyes, his curling mouth, she felt something warm take root in her stomach. "Depends on what you like to do," she said.

"Oh, I'm flexible. What about you?" He raised an eyebrow and Yumi swallowed, smiled.

"So am I."

/

The thing about Will, she knows, is that he's trouble. He's got Odd's sense of daring; Ulrich's reserved demeanor; Jeremie's determination. Ulrich eyes him and frowns, says he doesn't trust him. She should listen to Ulrich; she should listen to common sense. His eyes are dark like Kaito's, and what did she learn about dark-eyed boys with easy smiles, really Yumi.

But, if Ulrich can hang out with Emily and Sissi then she's allowed to have outside friends too, isn't she? Will's a friend, even if he sees that as a challenge.

. . … . .

It's not that she is oblivious of the attention. It's not as if she's purposefully leading him on when she knows nothing will come of it. It's just that it's nice to be noticed for once.

So, she doesn't say no like she should when William offers to walk her home. She doesn't tell him that she usually partners with Shannon in lab classes. She laughs at his jokes and enjoys the attention.

Shannon nudges her with a bony elbow and nods discreetly across the courtyard. "What are you doing, Yumi?" she asks.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replies. She smiles at where Ulrich, Odd, and Jeremie are sitting on their usual commandeered benches before shifting her smile over to where Will is leaned against the main building walls.

"You're playing with fire," Shannon replies. She glances between Will's easy smile and Ulrich's frown. "This is something Sissi would pull."

"I'm not pulling anything," Yumi snaps. "It's harmless, Will knows it isn't serious."

Shannon sucks in a breath, glances at Will. He's still watching them, dark eyes focused intently on Yumi. "Are you sure about that, Yumi? Or are you only hoping he does?"

"Shannon…"

The bell rings and Shannon gives her a long look. "Come on," she states.

/

At the time she had brushed off Shannon's concerns as nothing more than nervousness. Maybe a bit of envy, if she's honest. Will wasn't bad looking; he was quiet but had a quick wit about him. He was kicked out of school for being too much of a romantic. He recited poetry for fun. Of course the female population would take notice of him.

And she wasn't blind. She knew there had been something simmering beneath the surface between her and Ulrich for a year now. A quiet back-and-forth, a delicate balance on a tightrope. One false move and they'd combust. She knew Ulrich was interested, but she was too cautious, had been burned once too many times.

So, yes, she did flirt with Will while watching Ulrich across the grounds, the cafeteria, the field. She wanted to see his reaction, wanted to gauge how interested he really was. And if Will started reading too much into these allowances, well, she already had enough things to feel guilty for, why not add one more?

. . … . .

There're a lot of things she isn't proud of, when she looks back on them. There are a lot of things she could have, should have done better.

Voting no on allowing Will into the gang, well, she isn't sure where that falls on her list of regrets.

On the one hand, she stands firm with her decision. She doesn't trust him. He's too outlandish at times, more so than Odd. She remembers poetry and declarations of love, him following her home and trying to discover her secrets. He's too self-assured, she thinks. Even as he winks at her across the pool, eyes her bathing suit and smiles. Overconfidence leads to mistakes, she reminds herself.

She lets him think it was Ulrich who voted no. They had agreed to keep the votes anonymous; she doubts anyone will realize who actually dissented. So she's surprised when Aelita looks up from where she's painting her toenails and studies Yumi. Yumi is flipping through a fashion magazine Aelita had laying on the bed.

"Why don't you trust Will?" Aelita questions.

"What do you mean?"

"I know you voted no." She looks up and realizes that Aelita does know. This isn't just a blind stab in the dark. She sits up slowly, crosses her legs to give herself time to think. "Yumi."

"I don't think he'd be a good match for the team," she says finally. "He and Ulrich would fight all the time. He's too overconfident; he won't listen about the dangers."

Aelita caps the lime green nail polish and studies Yumi carefully. "Is that the only reason?"

She thinks of Will's fingers brushing hers as he hands her a book in class. The way his eyes seek her out in any gathering. The way he followed her from her house, trying to learn her secrets. "Yes," she says firmly.

Aelita studies her for a few seconds more before nodding. "Alright, then."

. . … . .

Ulrich has her pinned. His hands are firm on her wrists, holding them above her head. His knees are pressed tight to her thighs. She breathes hard, winded from her collision with the practice mat. She arches an eyebrow at him, smiles. "What's brought this on?"

"Sometimes I think, no, I know you do it just to annoy me," he pants above her. She tilts her head back, exposes the line of her throat and smiles when his eyes track the movement. "He was touching you."

"We're friends, Ulrich," she replies. She goes lax beneath him, but he doesn't take the bait. If anything his grip tightens. "Emily touches you."

"Emily doesn't like me like that," he protests. She hums, remembering the way Will had brushed her hair out of her face earlier while they'd been talking. Remembers the way Ulrich had looped an arm around Emily's shoulders yesterday while they were walking.

"But you like her," she states.

"As a friend."

"And I like Will like a friend," she replies. He glares and she sees her opening. Quickly she presses her heels and hands into the mat, arching her back quick enough to dislodge him. She rolls them, presses him into the mat and lets her hair curtain off the rest of the world as she leans over him. "Besides, it's kind of hot when you get all jealous."

He growls, eyes glinting darkly, and wrenches an arm free from her grasp. She braces for another reversal, but he just tangles his fingers in her hair, pulls her down into a bruising kiss. "God, you're crazy," he mutters.

She trails her lips over his neck, leaves a mark that's too high for his usual collars to hide. "Good crazy?" she asks, a hint of teeth against his skin.

"Yeah," he agrees.

She smiles, presses her lips to the mark on his neck. Wants him to remember it the next time he has his arm around Emily Leduc's shoulders. Wants her to realize he's not up for grabs, even if she doesn't like him that way. "Good," she sighs.

. . … . .

Eight months, Yumi muses, almost exactly.

The Kadic Chronicle runs the article on the front page: Kadic's Cutest Couple Calls Quits. Milly had outdone herself, neatly summarizing the early days of will-they, won't-they before detailing the eight months of pure bliss, before hypothesizing on the breaking point.

Sources close to both Yumi and Ulrich hint at a possible love-pentagon. While no names were given, it hasn't been exactly secret that both parties were suspicious of the motivations behind several reported friendships. William Dunbar has made his interest in Yumi Ishiyama known since his first day on campus while Ulrich is also known to spend time with both Emily Leduc and Sissi Delmas. Whether these rumors are pure speculation or lend themselves to the truth remains to be seen.

Yumi rolls her eyes and stuffs the Chronicle into her bag. She feels eyes on her as she flips open her history book and tries to study. Of course her classmates continue to quietly study her, though no one approaches the small table she commandeered by the non-fiction stacks.

It's not that she doesn't understand, she does. To outsiders she and Ulrich had been perfect, maybe too perfect. There had been no outside cracks on their facades. The break came unexpectedly. Of course there would be looks and rumors. She just doesn't understand why a week later they were still newsworthy. Surely Sissi had done something attention-grabbing since then.

"If you need a shoulder to cry on, I've been told mine's pretty comfy." She looks up to see Will smiling at her. "This seat taken?"

She raises an eyebrow at him. "You sure you want to risk it? You'll just be sucked into the rumor mill."

He laughs, ignoring the Madame Martin's pinched face glaring at them, and drops into the chair across from her. "I'm good," he states. "How 'bout you?"

She smiles, shakes her head. "I don't need a shoulder to cry on," she says instead.

He grins. "Perfect, then how about a distraction from the gossipers?"

"A distraction would be nice."

. . … . .

Will's fingers trail over her skin. They feel like fire to her chilled bones. He follows them with lips and tongue. "You never told me what these were for," he murmurs.

"Hm?" She doesn't have to, but she still looks at her wrist. He's cradling it in his too-warm hands, thumb brushing over the dark ink. "Just mistakes."

He's quiet for a moment, nail scraping skin. "What kind of mistakes?" She pulls at her hand but he keeps his grip. She can feel her wrist bones shift beneath his strong fingers. "Yumi?"

"Just mistakes, Will. Let go of me."

He releases her like he's been burned. She rubs at her wrist, sits up and stares at him. He looks back at her, runs a hand through his hair. "Shit, I'm sorry," he sighs. He flops down onto her bed and stares at her ceiling. He has the frown on his face that means he's still focused on something.

"It's okay," she murmurs. She lets her unmarked hand rest on his chest and feels him stiffen beneath her. "What is it?"

"I'm trying, Yumi. I'm really trying, but you still don't trust me, do you?" he asks.

She settles against his side, presses a kiss to his jaw, scrapes her teeth down his neck. "They're just mistakes, Will," she sighs. "No one wants to remember mistakes."

He gives a soft, humorless laugh. "Then why make them permanent?"

She's quiet for a while, listens to his heartbeat steady beneath her ear. "Because the ones you don't want to remember are usually the ones you need to," she states.

He pulls her closer, presses a kiss to the top of her head. "Just tell me, am I going to be inked there?"

She tilts her head back, studies the strong line of his jaw. "No," she says. "No, I don't think you will."

He breathes out a sigh and rolls them, pins her to the bed. His eyes are sad but his mouth is warm and hungry. Everything about Will is warm, she thinks. She loops her arms around his neck and lets him distract them both.