RANDOM CHAPTER INSERT!
I wrote this a year ago and then messed up with uploading, so that's why I had to re-update the entire story. This chapter contains minimal amounts of character/plot development anyway, so don't feel too obligated to read. But reading would be nice. Reading is good.
BAH.
"You see the smile that's on my mouth
It's hiding the words that don't come out
And all of my friends who think that I'm blessed
They don't know my head is a mess,
No, they don't know who I really am."
Mari still couldn't decide what to think of Renji. He was kind of weird...but she was too, really.
All awkwardness had vanished after she had come out of the closet (not figuratively, just stepping out of the supply room), and for that, Mari was more than glad. Considering she had four tutoring sessions after school each week with him for an hour and a half (which, by the way during German, felt like forever).
If anything, they'd bonded. A weird, short kind of awkward moment bonding that said "we survived that together".
Plus, he was in her P.E. class. They were long past embarrassment.
She liked how he tutored her, though. He let her think by herself while still offering her assistance when needed. She didn't need assistance (rule number three), but it was nice to know she could ask him a question once in a while...knowing she didn't have to know all the answers and do everything by herself...
Oh my, what was she saying.
At least she was getting a little better, considering she was also simultaneously learning the present class lessons along with the previous chapters. So Renji proposed they forget grammar for a while and focus on vocabulary...which was only a tiny bit better.
"German to English: 'das Lineal.'"
"Uh, line?"
"Think about it."
Line...line...lines were...lines were straight, right? Lineal, Lineal...
"Ah-ruler."
"Good. 'Die Schwester.'"
"I don't suppose it's 'sweater', is it?"
"No, that's the next chapter. It means 'sister'."
Sometime after that, Mari failed enough questions to simply stop caring.
"'Das Kleid'."
"Pshh...'plaid', I don't know."
"It's 'dress'."
"Okay."
"'Der Vater.'"
"Darth Vader."
Renji's lip twitched for a second, whether in irritation or amusement, Mari couldn't tell, before giving up and shifting gears from meanings to articles. The rest of the session was spent with her failing completely (what's new) and guessing only a handful correctly, before Renji had to leave for tennis practice and ordered her to stay to study more.
Not like she needed to or anything.
Gradually, they fell into a pattern.
Arrive: skip greetings, take out textbooks.
Review: silent sustained reading of previous and present chapter.
Until, fail: at any and all questions German-related asked.
Post-tutoring: return home, say you'll review, don't review because you have other stuff.
Rinse and repeat.
The only things that stuck with Mari during their sessions was maybe Renji.
He was a stereotype enigma: seemingly single-minded like the rest of the Rikkai population. But slowly, she was noticing some things. How he never called her dumb or un-teachable. How he corrected her gently. How that one time in P.E., he didn't help her up when she tripped: just held the door open. And that other time when he didn't laugh when the water fountain blew up in her face.
It was almost like he knew her. How to help her.
But he doesn't, she rethought, pressing her fingers into a fist.
He doesn't know me.
There was one other person Mari knew who liked to talk about statistics as much as Renji. When said person was lucid enough to speak, she'd never stop telling Mari about the merit of incentives, of numbers and cheaters, of sociology and human economics.
That all, of course, changed after the accident. But, as Hikari's mother would remind her, she was not among the 1.14 million vehicular fatalities worldwide.
They still had that, at least.
Nori wasn't usually a trouble baby.
The only real reason Mari complained about him in her head was because he was simply there. It wasn't his fault he couldn't use the bathroom or eat by himself or entertain himself like a normal person. He was just a baby, for heaven's sake. But Hikari still resented that.
"Oh, Nori, not again." Mari sighed as the pacifier skipped down the sidewalk. Again.
It's not his fault he doesn't have coordination.
Maybe, though, he actually did have amazing coordination, and that was why he 'dropped' his binkie onto the ground three times already. Mari bent to pick it up when a pair of tennis shoes appeared and the pacifier was swept up and dropped neatly into her hand.
"Oh, thank you very much..."
She looked up and her face hurt with the effort of keeping a smile.
"...Yukimura."
Said boy smiled. "No problem. Is he yours?"
How Yukimura could tell Nori was a boy evaded her- Nori didn't look like a he: he just looked like a baby.
"Cousin, yes," Mari wiped off the pacifier and stuck it in one of her pockets. She shuffled uncomfortably behind the stroller, mostly because of her awkward demeanor around people, and also because of her hideous black baby-cargo pants, various baby-supplies stuffed into the seemingly-infinite number of baby-filled-supply-pockets.
Since when have you cared what you look like? Mari thought irritably, though brushing a hand through her hair to make sure the braids running underneath were still in place.
Yukimura, of course, looked respectably good as usual, out of his uniform and in a pair of loose black jeans and a windbreaker draped over a dark blue polo shirt with the collar popped. It would've looked totally disgusting on anyone else. On him, it looked almost...endearing.
He bent in to look at Nori. "He has your nose," Yukimura noted with a smile.
Mari automatically scowled and replied, "Well, that's weird, considering..." before quickly remembering to shut herself up.
He looked up curiously. "Considering...?"
"Ah-well..." His eyes were probing. "Well, Nori's not actually my blood cousin." She bit her lip, wondering whether she should say anything else. "My uncle's second wife," Mari elaborated.
Why did I just say that? Now he'll ask questions...now he'll think my family's as messed up as it really is...
But to her surprise, Yukimura didn't do anything besides smile warmly. "My cousins are babies, too. Premature three months: this big." He put his hands out about a foot across. "You could've fit them on a tennis racket and still played a decent game."
Mari smiled despite everything else. "Maybe you could've. I don't play anything, really."
He looked at her curiously.
"No hobbies?"
Too busy, was what she wanted to say. But that wasn't a real answer. She pondered for a bit before saying, "I used to dance. In elementary school. Our teacher was a Russian woman who'd clap a lot."
Mari smiled at the memory.
Why had she even quit in the first place?
"Dance," Yukimura laughed. "In physical education, dance was one of our previous units from last year. I believe that was the only subject Renji nearly scored poorly on." Mari cocked her head with an astonished look, unable to believe it.
"Renji...almost bombed dancing?"
"Not bombed...more like...over thought until the follow would be leading him, practically dragging him around the floor, instead of vise versa." She laughed at that, imagining Renji, sweat beading on his brow, trying to remember everything about the next step yet still with that sculpted, neutral look on his face while a red-faced girl pulled him along to waltz music.
"And you?"
His smile looked slightly pained. "I danced with Inoue Tani."
Mari's smile froze. Yukimura continued, unperturbed. "Through the other female follows, it still evades me how quickly she grabbed my arm and swept us into a ballroom dance." He gave a light laugh, looking to see how Mari would react, but she just kept up a smile and clenched the handle of her stroller.
Hikari Mari did not talk to people like Inoue Tani. She did not talk about people like Inoue Tani. Mari would not compromise her avoidance of drama and confrontation for this kind, but misguided boy—affiliating with a female aggressor's self-proclaimed boy toy was in strict violation of all four of her rules, and common sense in general.
"Well, thanks for the pacifier and everything," she replied tonelessly. "See you in school."
He looked confused, but she pushed past him coolly.
His feelings weren't her problem.
Thanks for being so patient with me, readers. You are my life blood, along with religion, food, and I dunno blood, I guess.
Lyrics at the top are Brandi Carlile's "The Story".