It's been a minute, huh? Thanks again to everyone for all the kind reviews and favourites, follows, etc - I really hope you guys enjoy this one! When I was plotting out future chapters (something I do very rarely, lemme tell ya) I realized this story may be a bit on the longer side, but I want to make it ENRICHING (excuses honey excuses).

Leave a review if you like!

~Crimrose

Disclaimer: I do not own BroCon or any of its characters.

Chapter Eight

Tattoo

Whenever it's not a weekday, my sleeping schedule is nothing short of severely fucked up. However, I like to think that my body is so anxious about getting to school on time no matter when I go to bed that it jolts me awake near the crack of dawn. I'd fallen asleep relatively early last night, so I don't feel overly exhausted when I finally crack my eyes open, limbs sprawled apart, hair in tangles around my face. Juli's nestled in the crook of my right leg, and I have to be careful not to crush him as I shift slightly and get more comfortable, wondering if I have time to sleep in a little bit.

Out of habit I pat myself down dazedly just to make sure no part of me has turned into a cockroach spontaneously, traumatized from a story I'd read in middle school – a habit I really have to get out of, I'll be an adult soon, for God's sake. When I determine that my body is still soft and exoskeleton-free, I plant my legs on the ground, stretch, then have a panic attack because I have no idea where I am.

The layout of the room is unfamiliar, though all the decorations undoubtedly belong to me, and there's gentle sunlight streaming in through large glass doors leading out to a veranda. Conspiracy theories start running through my head, that I'd been kidnapped and they'd replicated all my furniture to lure me into a false sense of security, before I realize I'm a fucking spaz and I'd moved in with my new brothers yesterday.

Immediately I start snickering at myself; I would think something outrageous had happened. The adrenaline I'd felt begins to ease as the speed of my heartrate lessens to a more even rhythm, and I have to actually remain sitting and catch a breath for a few moments before I can start getting ready for the day. I don't know if I feel like wearing makeup, so I check the weather to see how warm it is lest I sweat it all off, and decide that a little won't hurt. I pin the hairs escaping from my braid away from my face in preparation to wash it and brush my teeth, then apply concealer, mascara, fill in my eyebrows and add the tiniest splash of blush as I'm sure my face will get red enough later today from the heat.

A good part about having curly hair is that it's more difficult to tell when it's gotten to be particularly greasy; a bit of dry shampoo and no one can tell that I haven't showered yesterday or today. After my uniform is on and hiding everything it needs to, I adjust my hair into its usual bun and determine that I'm ready for the day. Instead of waking up Juli I leave some of his food in a small dish on my desk for him, prepared for when he wakes up. I don't want him to stay trapped in here all day, but I don't know if my brothers will be too happy about a rodent running amok in their house. I figure if I get in trouble so be it, and leave my door slightly open so he can leave when he feels like it.

I wonder if anyone's awake yet; I imagine Yusuke-kun, Iori-kun, and Wataru-kun should at least be getting up soon for school, but I have no idea about the others. I'm praying that someone is and in the kitchen, since I'd feel a bit uncomfortable just helping myself to food without even asking, even though I live here now. I have no idea if anyone is saving anything, or what's being used later on for dinner, so I'd rather not take the chance and just wait a bit longer until I get some breakfast.

When I'm in the elevator, I realize it's the first time I'm taking it by myself; I'd always been with one of my brothers each time I'd taken it before. It's even more spacious now that I'm by myself, the metallic walls reflecting me on all sides to extend the space. I'm hit with a sudden bout of anxiety, signalled by my heart skipping a beat and speeding up in rhythm, still feeling estranged in my new home. I know it's a feeling I have to get over quickly – the word family keeps repeating in my head, so I can get more used to it. I take a few deep breaths, filling up my chest until it's painful, and letting it all out slowly. The elevator reaches the fifth floor and I'm stepping out before I can second-guess myself, eager to see one of my brothers.

After descending the stairs from the loft, I'm pleasantly surprised to see Kaname-san and Subaru-san lounging in sweats on the couch, citrus sweat glistening in the sunlight streaming from the windows. They both have towels thrown around their necks and water bottles in their hands, chuckling quietly together. The stagnant aroma of miso broth streams from the kitchen with the popping sounds of a frying pan, and my chest flutters – that's something I can't remember waking up to in a very long time. Before I'm overcome with my feelings I greet my brothers on the couch, who glance up at my approach – Kaname-san with a warm grin and Subaru-san almost nervously.

"Good morning, lil' sis," Kaname-san greets me as I stride closer to them. Subaru-san averts his eyes, his face flushed from the exercise I'm assuming they were doing. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, very well, thank you," I respond, a smile automatically lighting up my face. "What's up with you guys this early?"

"Just went out for a run." Kaname-san nudges Subaru-san with his leg, stretched out along the couch, and encourages him: "Right, Suba-chan?"

My brother in question clears his throat, nods quickly, and takes off. He brushes past me, grunting out a small greeting, and disappears behind the wall just beyond the elevator in the loft – most likely to take a shower, as I'd been told the main bathroom is that way. Kaname-san shrugs, almost helplessly, and is giving me an apologetic look. I don't particularly understand why; it's expected that I'd make someone feel uncomfortable here. I don't blame Subaru-san for avoiding me – I was sure we'd get to know each other better eventually.

"Good morning," Ukyo-san calls to me from the kitchen, and I wave to Kaname-san before trotting over to him. "I'm glad to see another early riser." Honestly, so am I. He's decked out in another pressed button-down shirt, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, a pale green apron with grinning tabby cats stamped across the chest. I look at it appraisingly; it was honestly very cute, which took me by surprise.

After I give him proper greetings, I glance around the kitchen to see what was cooking. There's a lot of appliances spaced evenly and purposefully along the counter, including two rice cookers, pots and pans simmering on the stove, and the rich aroma steaming from the coffee brewer. "Can I help?" I ask him, determined to even if he neglected my offer; this is a lot of food to be cooking at once, and I wanted to show that I could be relied upon as a member of the household.

"That would be wonderful," he says, ultramarine eyes widening behind his glasses in surprise. "There's a spare apron hanging in the cabinet beside the fridge." I fetch it and tie it around my waist, and it's wide enough I have to loop it around once. It's bright pink, checkered, and adorable. He informs me on everything he's prepping (besides the obvious), and asks me to help get the miso soup brewing. Ukyo-san is very efficient and specific when introducing me to the stainless steel kitchen, spacious length and width-wise, informing me of a very specific organization in which all food and ingredients are in. It's pleasant to have everything laid so straightforwardly in front of me; I love to cook, and it makes me more comfortable to know where everything is. When I'm reaching in the appointed cupboard for the ingredients for the miso broth, a pale hand reaches toward me in my peripheral vision and takes hold of a strand of my hair.

I jump back slightly, startled, to lock eyes with a languid, almost distant gaze comprised of an almost khaki colour. It startles me how beautiful they are, framed by deep brown lashes, with hair dusting across their forehead, a colour remarkably similar to mine. When I'm finally able to step back a bit and get a good look I find it is, as expected, another man, taller than I am and examining my hair with an almost evaluating quality. His is styled impeccably, softly curled and tied off in an artfully messy way to the side. I'm hit with a bout of envy; my hair fights me every time I try to do something nice with it. His skin is the colour of cream, unblemished and almost glowing, and even his clothing was stylish and trendy.

"Your hair… what a pretty colour," he murmurs, his voice almost an octave above a whisper, and it sounds sincere. I think his is much prettier – it almost has the slightest tinge of a pink hue to it, and it literally glistens in the sunlight.

Nonetheless, I feel flattered, so I say, "Um, thank you."

"This is Louis," Ukyo-san fills in for me, and my shoulders sag in relief – it felt uncomfortable to inquire about his identity. "The eighth son. He works as a professional hairdresser." That explains the unexpected interested in my hair. To be told it looked pretty by a professional made the compliment that much more appreciated; no one had ever been that sincere about it before.

"Nice to meet you," I tell him, holding my hand out for a shake. "I'm Vivi, and I'll be living here from now on." Because that seems a bit rude and intrusive, I bow slightly when he slips his hand into mine. "Please take care of me."

"Likewise," he says, bowing in return with a tender smile on his face. His eyes are slightly drooped, giving him a relaxed and languid appearance, and his quiet voice puts me at ease in this bustling environment. "Please, let me style your hair some time."

My heart skips a beat. "Oh, I'd love that! It'd be nice not to have to bully it into behaving." He chuckles good-naturedly and examines me for one more moment, gaze kind and warm, before moving on to take a seat around the couch. The living room was a bit more busy now; I noticed Iori-kun's slate hair, sitting with his back to me, and the twins sitting side-by-side, Tsubaki-san flicking through channels on the television.

I continue prepping with Ukyo-san, adding ingredients to the broth while checking on the rice as he fried up what looked to be mackerel. He interrupts our steady, almost assembly line pace by adding casually, "Remember to use katusuoboshi for the broth." I curse under my breath; I'd used the crystallized version, admittedly the first one I'd laid my eyes on. I'd have to be more careful from now on and not take the easy way out; this is, naturally, different from the routine I'd been doing by myself for years.

We finish whipping up breakfast after a few more minutes, and everyone had gathered to eat. Yusuke-kun was still yawning, his fiery hair sticking up in every direction. We set everything on the table, everyone's settings of different colours and patterns. Mine is pale pink, the colour of a delicate seashell, and Ukyo-san startles me by apologizing. "I hated to appropriate it by your gender," he confesses. "But I wasn't sure what you'd like when I went shopping for them."

"No," I refuse adamantly, immediately. "No, they're lovely. Thank you very much; I'm glad you thought to get them at all."

His smile is warm and relieved. "Of course; you're not just a guest here, after all." Everyone takes their places at the table. Wataru-kun claims the spot beside me again, rubbing his eyes tiredly as he mutters 'good morning', and Yusuke-kun finds my other side. Across from us are the twins, Azusa-san eating in respectful silence while Tsubaki-san teases Yusuke-kun for looking like he lacked sleep. My attention is suddenly zeroed in on Azusa-san's hands and the way they operated his chopsticks; it's so graceful and sure, prim and proper. I look away before he can find me staring and focus on holding mine correctly so I don't embarrass myself; I admittedly used silverware more often at my old home.

"The miso's great today," Tsubaki-san says around a mouthful, and he swallows after receiving a glare from the honourable chef.

"It really is," his twin agrees, surprised. "Did you do something different?"

Ukyo-san's quiet for a moment, and I'm about to apologize for messing with the ingredients when he smiles brightly and says, "Vivi-san made it today."

"Not bad," Subaru-san adds, one of the first coherent things I'd heard from him. My mood immediately brightens; I was relieved they didn't mind the mistake, and seemed to appreciate it instead. I'd still rather do it the way Ukyo-san prefers from now on, though.

Most of their attention is suddenly attracted to the television screen. One of those teen idols is performing on the screen, neon lights flashing off of his hair and stylish outfit, and I have to admit that his voice sounded genuinely pleasant. One of the things I have a hard time with when it came to identifying with people my age is what is trendy nowadays; as someone who is, admittedly, a historical nerd, I don't pay much attention to the news or media. I wonder if he's popular right now, and that thought is startled away when Wataru-kun cries, "It's Fuu-chan!"

Fuu-chan? That's a cute name. I'm suddenly more invested in the program when Tsubaki-san makes a noise of disgust in the back of his throat between bites. "Ugh, look at that smile. I've never seen anything so fake."

"Be nice," Masaomi-san chided him softly, seated next to Wataru-kun and wiping his face for him when he needed it.

"That's another one of your brothers," Iori-kun informs me from the other side of the table. "Fuuto Asahina, though he goes by Asakura on stage."

I nearly choke. "One of your brothers is an idol?" I demand, my heartrate increasing in urgency. It seems so far away from the table we sat at now – I'm not just talking about the television. It feels strange to associate the personality on TV, sweat gleaming in the limelight as he performed for thousands of people, with the house and people surrounding me. I feel more intrusive than ever; I'm sitting in a celebrity's house. Though, judging from the expressions on his brothers' faces, that isn't anything to be concerned about. I suppose that, surrounded by so many people with successful careers, he must have felt like he needed to do something – not to show them up, but more so not to fall behind. I'm feeling the pressure a bit myself, now, as I haven't put any thought into what I'm going to do after high school besides the vague notion of "college".

"He's in Hokkaido right now," Kaname-san adds, his portion almost completely gone. "We should call him up soon, see if he can bring some souvenirs home." His gaze travels over to me, just as suggestive as it had been yesterday. "Any requests?"

I'm not sure if he's kidding or not, so I answer seriously, just in case. "No, thank you." I accompany it with a smile, though I'm concerned about what will happen when I meet Fuuto-kun for the first time. He'll be arriving home to find a stranger in his house and just be forced to deal with it; that doesn't seem entirely fair. I nibble on my rice, listening intently when Masaomi-san tells me he's only fifteen-years-old and has already made it so far into the entertainment world. His face is beaming with pride as he says it, strangely paternal, though I guess that's to be expected from the eldest. He watched every man around me grow up from the time they were infants, his famous younger brother included. It was touching to see that he cared so deeply for his family, taking on a heavy role as the eldest. I have to restrain a hysterical bout of laughter when I immediately associate him as a father figure and Ukyo-san as the mother. It would have drawn attention, not to mention that Ukyo-san fulfilled the roles of any household member, not specifically a mother.

The last ones to finish their breakfast are Wataru-kun and I, and even then I barely beat him in terms of time. Some of my brothers even grabbed seconds and finished first; I am very unused to the appetite of young men, when my father ate his fill and normally nothing more. A few of them are still growing, and even the older men seem to hold an intimidating amount of food in their stomachs. No wonder Ukyo-san had made so much; you can't make just enough for everybody, but some more for extras on top of that. I shake my head in disbelief, confounded at the differences between us. I'm a glutton, myself, but I don't ask for seconds as I figure it's more important that the others get theirs instead of me.

I glance at the electronic clock on the oven, and think it's about time to go. I've never trekked to school from here before, so I had no ides what time I should leave at; I prefer to be early rather than late, however, so now seems as good a time as any. I help Subaru-san load the dishes, as it's his turn this morning, and not a word comes from his mouth despite how I try to encourage it. I ask if and where he goes to school, and he mumbles out, "Meiji", a university in Tokyo. I wonder what he goes there for, when he has to leave, and so forth, but I don't want to pressure him to speak if he's uncomfortable. His hair is only slightly damp from his earlier shower, having dried quickly thanks to its short length, and his mouth is screwed up like he ate something bad. Anxiety begins poisoning my blood, pumping into my heart faster and faster until the dishes are done and I thank him for doing it, just to be polite, and he looks confused and responds: "I should be thanking you. Nobody bothers helping with chores besides their own in the house. And… breakfast was really good."

He flushes a bit and directs his gaze elsewhere before muttering a thank you, then he takes off again. My pulse slows down, and I don't feel like hyperventilating anymore; I'd been so worried that he hates me outright that it consumed my entire body for those brief moments. I'm relieved to think that, maybe, he's merely just shy. Tsubaki-san had mentioned that he isn't comfortable around women in the first place, let alone one that just intruded on his house. I feel bad for immediately assuming the worst case scenario is the correct one; if I can put confidence in anything, it's that Miwa-san raised these men well, and I know this because my father would never marry someone who isn't good to their core; that's what he deserves.

I smile after Subaru-san's retreating form, and inform Ukyo-san that I'm going to start heading to school soon. After he nods and gives me his number should I need anything, I head downstairs quickly to get my supplies. Juli is awake now, and he'd remained in my room all that time, oddly inactive for him.

"What's wrong?" I ask. He hasn't even touched his food. My brows furrow; I hope the new environment isn't stressing him out too much.

He gives me a cutting look, one that implied I should know. I suppose I do; I'd left him behind to 'fraternize' with my new brothers, unprotected and in his eyes, defenseless. I heave a sigh and smile as I gather my notebooks and writing utensils together, making sure my weekend homework is finished. "You're honestly worrying too much. You think I would hesitate to fight back if something happened?"

That makes him hesitate. "Well, if it was anyone else, no. But you keep looking at them as family, and you wouldn't harm them. Even if they think of you in a different way."

"You, sir Juli, have an overactive imagination." I crack the balcony door open a touch to let him roam as he pleases; I know he'll come back because he tells me he will, and I think it goes against his principles to leave a damsel such as myself in the hands of ravenous wolves.

"I'll be waiting right by the entrance when you get back," he huffs. "I know you'll be late today, so I won't freak out, I promise. But I'm not leaving your side once you pass the threshold." That sure sounds like not freaking out to me. I wonder what he means by me being late; I don't remember having anything planned. I shrug to myself and give him a little kiss goodbye before heading out the door to return to the common room.

"Vivi-san," Ukyo-san greets me when I come back.

"You don't have to be so formal," I tell him honestly; it's making me a bit nervous, as if there's a huge wall between all of us even though we're family now. It's an idea I'm still struggling with, as well, but the more familiar we are, the easier it will be to overcome.

He nods respectfully. "Of course. Masaomi-niisan already left, and I'm to give you his contact information as well." After he completes the task given to him, he gets right back to business. "You should head off to school with Yusuke. It'll make things easier if you just go together." It will also draw attention, attention he certainly doesn't want; we'd never gone to school together before, as we lived in opposite directions.

As expected, my classmate is fuming. "That completely defeats the point of hiding that we're l-l-living together!" I almost giggle at his stuttering; it's cute.

Ukyo-san's forehead creases. "But she's unfamiliar with the neighbourhood. Plus, if you leave with her now, you'll be on time for once."

Yusuke-kun's eye twitches, and before he can protest even further I grab hold of his arm, leaving him speechless and flushed. "We'll just pretend we ran into each other, 'kay? Thanks, Ukyo-san."

His brows are raised, almost as if he's mildly taken aback. "You don't have to be formal, either," he tells me, and I smile as I wave goodbye. I take Yusuke-kun's slack hand for good measure and wave it for him. I'm hauling him off to the lounge staircase before he can say anything about it; I'm strong enough he knows he can't get away if he wants to.

"I can walk by myself!" He snaps, sputtering and red. I just grin at him. "I still need to get my stuff!"

"I'll be waiting by the entrance," I tell him, then something occurs to me. "Oh, we've never exchanged numbers, have we. Let's do it now." I'm holding out my phone expectantly, and he's just staring at me, completely aghast, before he mechanically follows suit.

"You're bossy," he grumbles as he steps into the elevator, rubbing the back of his head tenderly.
"When I want to be." My smile is blinding as I follow him into the enclosed space, and I feel guilty for being so pushy when he takes a very obvious step away from me to put distance between us. I resist the urge to sigh. If there's a problem, I hate avoiding it; I'd rather confront it directly and get rid of it to save time and needless agonizing. Hence why I'd just taken him from the room forcibly. I'm mulling over whether that was a bad decision when he gets off on the third floor and I'm continuing to the lobby, switching my shoes at the entrance.

"Vivi-chan!" I hear someone sing behind me, and I look back just in time to see Azusa-san restrain his twin by the collar of his shirt before he can launch himself at me. "Leaving for school?" He chokes, and I snicker at the sight.

"Yup, just waiting on Yusuke-kun," I tell them, and it occurs to me that I may look standoffish standing with my back against the mailboxes, arms crossed over my chest. I relax them to my side and stand up properly.

"We're just heading off to a session," Azusa-san tells me cheerfully, put-together even early in the morning.

"I'd rather stay here with you all day," Tsubaki-san tells me, very seriously.

"Enough," his twin sighs. "It's good we caught you before you left. We wanted to give you our numbers."

My contact list is getting filled today, it seems; not that I mind. Tsubaki-san compliments my phone case when I whip it out, filled with liquid and blush pink sequins and glitter hearts. It's the girliest thing I own and I laugh as I thank him. We're making small talk, like about how if I'm ever in a hurry they can give me a ride to school, when Yusuke-kun joins me at the door. He clears his throat: "Ready to go?"

He looks so awkward, his shoulders stiff and back slightly slouched, that I decide I do feel bad for pushing him around. "For sure," I tell him, putting cheer into my voice. "See you guys later!"

"Bye-bye, lil' sis!" Tsubaki-san calls as we head in different directions – Yusuke-kun and I down the boardwalk to the entrance and them to the garage.

"Have a good day," Azusa-san tells us, and I wave at them like a maniac.

Yusuke-kun doesn't feel compelled to make conversation as we make our way to the train station. I don't put on my sunglasses, even though I want to; I don't want to seem like a diva or something. It is on the warmer side today, not boiling like yesterday, and I felt more encouraged to keep up a steady pace with him as his long legs carry him faster than me.

"Will you tell Imai about us?" He asks suddenly, his tone sullen.

I want to, but more than that, I want him to be comfortable around me. "Not if you don't want me to," I say, just imagining how Maho-chan will react regardless. She probably will make fun of us, albeit lightheartedly, so I understand her concern. I giggle to myself. "I've never had a secret like this before. It feels a bit fun, I think."

"It's a pain," he responds gruffly in return. My sunny mood dies immediately. "I mean, no, it's not like you're a pain. It's just being all sneaky about it." We don't have to be, but I don't tell him that; he'd made it clear that he wants us being siblings to be hush-hush.

The train ride continues much the same as the walk there had, silent and awkward. As it was prime time for people to commute to work, it was packed like a tin of sardines, leaving no space in between. I'm smushed right against one of the windows beside the sliding doors, and he stand right in front of me, his chest in my face and back fighting against the crowd. I try to keep myself from blushing; it is a bit embarrassing to have a guy that close to me, even if it has happened before. I can feel the strain of his body against the crush of people against my own, and just thinking about it makes me even more nervous. At least he's much the same, a face as red as my own, and not only because it's uncomfortably hot and suffocating in here.

When we're finally released from the ride of hell, I thank him for doing that regardless. "It was nice of you," I tell him with a smile. "It was pretty rough today, huh?"

"I wasn't really helping you," he mutters, looking away. "You just happened to be there." Sure. If that's what he wants me to believe, then I can comply.

It turns out his worries were a bit well-founded – we were the victims of curious stares on our way to Hinode High. Yusuke-kun kept a very readable space between us, space that indicated there's nothing between us and room to go anywhere we please. I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes; this seems a bit melodramatic to me. Do our classmates really have nothing better to do than make eyes at two of their own walking to school? It reminds me of when – wait. Suddenly I remember why Juli said I'd be late coming home.

I turn to Yusuke-kun then. "I've got something to do after school, so I won't be going home with you." And because I felt it appropriate, I tack on, "Sorry."

He has enough honesty in him to look disappointed. His shoulders fall and brows slash down at the same time, then he mumbles, "It's not like I was planning on it anyway. What are you getting up to?" When I hesitate he hurriedly adds, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I was just curious…"

"No, it's alright. I just have an appointment is all." A potentially painful one. I'm glad I remembered to pack my wallet today; if I'd forgotten it like I do sometimes, I'd be a tad bit screwed.

When we enter our classroom after switching our outdoor shoes for our indoor slippers, Maho-chan is by my side immediately while he continues on to his seat. She starts off with a topic we're more familiar with before class and getting into the nitty-gritty stuff. "Are you ready for your appointment? My brother has a couple hours cleared, just for you."

I let out a relieved breath. "I totally forgot about until just now. I managed to remember my wallet though." I wave it in front of her when we take our seats, mine near the back of the row and hers right in front of me. She looks just as relieved as I feel.

"How you just forget an appointment for a tattoo is beyond me," she mutters, leaning back against her desk. "It's something that you're going to have for, oh, just the rest of your life."

It's why I hesitate when wearing short sleeves or pushing long ones up. Why I'm self-conscious in bikinis. Why I'm afraid that my brothers will think me some kind of delinquent. I'd been getting them since our first year of high school, at the beginning of the semester. Maho-chan had informed me that he brother worked as a tattoo artist, one that had been high in demand since he'd posted pictures of mine on Twitter and the like. I'd always wanted one, so like it was nothing, she'd taken me to his studio and he'd drawn something small and simple on me for my very first one; a thin cherry blossom branch on the inside of my arm, right under the crease of my elbow. I have quite a few now, as he gives me a small 'friends and family' discount, and most of them don't cost too much as they tend to be on the smaller side and in black-and-white. My most expensive and time-consuming one was the dragon on the back of my neck, the design almost exactly like the one from Spirited Away, with small, delicate storms of flowers swirling around it.

Tsubaki-san had seen a touch of it yesterday, not fully comprehending that it wound down to the space between my shoulder blades. I want to make a good impression, but it won't last long; they're my family for life now, and they're bound to see them some time. Maybe not so much the one on my ribs or hip, but that was besides the point. Whatever doesn't go in my college fund from my job or birthday and new years money goes into the tattoo fund. I'd saved enough for the one I'm getting today, and it probably will take a bit of time, its pain scale nearing a six or seven out of ten.

"I guess it's because you have so many already," Maho-chan continues. She's aware that, while our school is pretty lenient with most policies like hair and makeup, tattoos are still a no-no. It's not like they can make you remove them, obviously, but it doesn't reflect well on its image. Hence why I always wear jerseys in gym, even when it's hot, and keep my sleeves on the longer side. "Enough about that." Now she leans conspiratorially across the desk to waggle her brows. "Tell me how it went!"

"Thirteen wasn't an exaggeration," I begin, shaking my head in mystification. "There's so many of them, and the house is so massive, that it blows my mind. They're all very nice, though."

"Good-looking?"

At least she keeps her priorities straight. I roll my eyes as I say, "Very. I'm not surprised, though; Miwa-san looks like a supermodel herself." I continue to explain the experience to her, from meeting most of them to dinner and my room, and she looks completely enraptured. The only reason I stop is because our teacher enters the room and begins the lesson after we exchange greetings.

Throughout class I can feel Yusuke-kun's stare on the side of my neck. A few times I turn and smile at him, and he immediately buries his face in his book. I wonder if he thinks I'd told Maho-chan after I'd told him I wouldn't – I don't suppose I can blame him, since there's never been a reason for him to put so much trust in me before. He even avoids eye-contact during lunch with Sasakura-kun, popping in from his own class, and Maho-chan. This is going to get tiresome very quickly. I start hatching a plan to ambush him when I get home, and I realize it's become less of a courtesy or natural occurrence to befriend him than a mission to me.

After lunch is over and we assume our designated seats, Sasakura-kun trudging back to his own class, the girl who sits between Yusuke-kun and I with lovely dark skin makes a face. "He's been staring at me all day," Erika complains, and I stifle a snicker. So he hadn't been staring at me, then. This is a both a relief and a disappointment; it seems he's doing everything in his power not to look right at me, like I'm Medusa or something.

"Any idea why?" I ask, leaning closer to her across the aisle. "Maybe you've got something stuck in your hair." I indicate her wild dark hair hedging on being an afro, and she turns to let me check. There is a fluff in it, most likely from dandelions letting their seeds loose outside, but it's buried in there; I don't think it warrants that much of Yusuke-kun's attention. She thanks me and beams, settling back into her own seat as class begins again.

When class is over I go up to Yusuke-kun before Maho-chan and I make off to her brother's studio and whisper, "See you at home," with a genuine smile. He stutters through an affirmation, his cheeks reddening, then Maho-chan and I are out of the classroom and practically speed-walking down to the lockers.

"How big?" She asks me. I give her a measurement of the fully stretched space between my thumb and forefinger. She quirks her tiny brows, impressed. "That's your second biggest one, yeah?"

I nod as we exit the building and make quick work of heading into the more bustling part of the city near the school. The sun is being merciless later in the day, its rays digging into my back and the top of my head, and I slip on my sunglasses; I hesitated with Yusuke-kun because of how big and over-the-top they are, mirrored and the shades of an oil slick in different lights, with geometric designs around the frames. I don't mind the school's designated loafers, but I'd prefer wearing runners when walking fast like this, or at least slip-ons. I can't push up my sleeves because I'm wearing my uniform in public; it may look suspicious in the first place to see two high-school girls walking into a tattoo parlor, but my sleeve was going to cover this one, so it's not like it would be noticeable.

I continue to fill Maho-chan in on my experience with my brothers, with the smaller details like how the house smells and Iori-kun giving me a tour of the neighbourhood and having a surprisingly dark sense of humor for such a princely face. She seems very interested in hearing more about him. "He goes to Bright Centrair? Damn, these people really are posh."

"It's not in a bad way," I say with a smile. "I can't wait to get to know them better and eat Ukyo-san's cooking for dinner; breakfast was delicious this morning."

We reach her brother's place then, the door chiming cheerfully as we step inside. It's nice and air-conditioned inside, and I let out a long stretch, letting the coolness sweep over as much of my body as I can. It smells a bit like incense in here, with the walls decorated with photos of tattooed women and men, lush forests and fields (as he specialized in nature pieces), and a touch of edginess with cow skulls and even a pet snake curling in its tank in the back (Run-chan). Izumi Imai steps out from his small office to the front counter, made of charming stained wood that was artfully mismatched, and flashed a winning smile at us. "Hey, beautiful. And brat," he adds, directed at his sister. She mimes throwing a punch at his arm, neglect to actually do so in his place of business.

You can see a family resemblance between the two; he has the same eyebrows and hair colour, though his is shot through with streaks of black. His own arms are close to covered with ink, a few piercings adorning his ear. Every time I see him he's wearing black, as he is today, and I wonder how he can stand it in the heat. Despite the roughness of his appearance, he has the same open baby face as his sister, with those doe-eyes and long lashes. "Come on in," he says to us, gesturing to the back. "I've missed my favourite customer. Just couldn't stay away from me for long, huh?"

He always teases me like that when I come around, mostly just to piss Maho-chan off, so I roll my eyes for what feels like the nth time that day. "You know it. I've been looking forward to this one." Despite forgetting about it. Real smooth, Vivi.i

I settle myself into the plush, cushioned adjustable chair as he begins tracing over his sketch to transfer to my arm. I take off my cardigan to reveal my white blouse underneath and roll up my sleeves to my elbows; you can see the two I have on my wrists, a small crescent moon on one and a trio of lilies on the other, as well as the branch on my arm and the Kusanagi blade just below my elbow (which is a bit of a long story, admittedly). He places the ink on my arm to form a crane extending its wing over a watercoloured flame, the words "la temperanza" in small, English cursive underneath. Maho-chan lets out a whistle. "That's going to be gorgeous. Do a good job, aniki."

Izumi-san huffs, insulted. "Obviously. I love this piece, too." He holds my gaze as he says that, and I say something along the lines of how jazzed I am. His mouth quirks into a smile before he applies a fresh needle to his gun, gets his cleaning supplies, and gloves. Another artists takes someone into their studio closer to the back, and Maho-chan and I smile cordially. Then her elder brother by six years gets to work, stretching my arm across a stool so he can access the back of it.

It doesn't sting as much as the first few did, and the location isn't that sensitive either. As Maho-chan and I talk about finals and how she would literally rather die than study, her brother seconding that, my eyes travel around his studio. There are some caricatures, his own art on a sketching board, mostly revolving around plants and animals and even mythological creatures. Music streams quietly from his laptop stationed on his desk, and the snake across the hall seems to be swaying to the beat. She's beautiful, her scales a milky white colour and eyes black and glittering. I coo at her from my seat and Maho-chan chews me out for talking to it like a baby; I may be able to understand the squirrel, but that doesn't mean I can talk to other animals.

As Izumi-san's needle inches closer to my wrist, it starts to sting more. But I don't flinch and keep my arm relaxed to make it easier for him. I realize that I'm quite hungry, despite having lunch a couple hours ago; I hope Ukyo-san has started dinner by the time I get home so I can get right to helping and eat. It occurs to me I don't exactly know the way home from here, but so long as I can get to the station, I'll be fine. And if worse comes to worse I'll just ask one of my brothers to meet me there.

After about an hour or so, Izumi-san finishes and lets me examine his newest piece in the mirror. It's as gorgeous and regal as he'd said it would be, the crane's wing long and delicate as its neck, the flame a mixture of reds faded by water with blue raindrops dotting down the middle.

"It's beautiful," I tell him, and thank him reverently. He's examining his own work, seeing if there's anything he wants to touch up, then he glances over to where I'd been sitting and heaves a blissful sigh. "What?"

"My favourite part about tattooing you," he begins dramatically, his voice deep and fervent, "is that there's always a perfect imprint of your butt on the chair when we finish."

This time Maho-chan does deliver a good swat over his head, even though she has to stretch to do it. He wraps up my newest piece in a thin layer of gauze, repeats the care instructions he has ten times before (policy), and I pay him what I owe aside from my earlier deposit. "Come around when it's healed so I can post a picture of it," he says, still admiring his work.

"Absolutely." I thank him again, immensely grateful for the beautiful work, so much that Maho-chan has to push me out the door. She's walking me to the station, and when I say I feel bad about her returning alone, she waves me off.

"Do you think anyone would mess with these brows?" She demands, perking them threateningly. "They could cut a bitch." That makes me laugh so hard I cry a little. Strenuous movement makes my arm feel even more so, the gauze uncomfortable underneath my shirt and being shoved so close to my skin.

Evening is cast over the city, splashes of red and pink on the horizon. That makes it just a touch cooler, and I don't shove on my sunglasses on the way home this time. When I look at the crowd waiting for the train as Maho-chan and I briefly hug goodbye, I suddenly find myself wishing that I'd gone home with Yusuke-kun after all. Not so he could shove against the masses, but just to be together in solidarity.

I flush to myself as I wait in line to enter the sliding doors. Just one day with them has made me feel so spoiled and selfish. But… I can't say that it's a bad thing. I'm eager to get home and see everyone again, my heart soaring as the train flies through the city, and wonder when I'll feel comfortable enough to show them everything about me without fear of being judged.

WHAT A SWEET LIL' ENDING. Stay tuned for the next chapter, kiddies, there's a chance it may come sooner than this one now that I'm back in the zone (if anyone reads Cross Ice you know how strange it is to have one chapter up immediately after one of those monsters).

Vivi's tattoo is inspired by the Temperance tarot card in the Wild Unknown deck, if anyone's curious. I bought the deck a while ago and literally every card in there is absolutely stunning. I prefer the Italian names of the tarot to the French, hence why she got it. I was planning on getting one of them on me but just got boring ol' flowers instead pffff. Maybe some day.

Izumi's (an OC as far as I know, I came up with that name on my own for sure) tattoo parlor is based loosely on the one where I live. There's a snake in that one as well, a python as far as I can tell, and his name is Lenny and I love him. I've also got a snake tattooed on me, so I obviously don't mind them to much.

You'll see more of Vivi's sicc tats in the future - she did buy that new bathing suit, after all. THANKS FOR READING!