A/N: so I mentioned a while ago that there was supposed to be another chapter set when yumagna were dancing but I couldn't get the draft finished in time. I've split that chapter up into different segments and will be inserting them as flashbacks to sort of help tide you over until Yumiko and Magna reunite. First part of the flashback will be in this chapter and the flashbacks take place in between chapter 5 and 6. Fair warning, some shameless flirting on Magna's part here.
[Trigger Warning: OCD, self-destructive behavior, implied child abuse]
"I can't go back to yesterday, because I was a different person then."
- Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll
"Do you remember. . ." Tomi murmured, eyes on their hands as he moved a thumb over her knuckles, "when we were children, that clapping game you used to play?"
It wasn't a game.
"Yes."
"Used to drive me insane. We'd always end up half an hour late to things because you wouldn't get in the car until you'd finished."
"Well, that was entirely for our benefit," Yumiko defended, with a humor she didn't quite feel. "I thought it would crash if I didn't."
They shared a small smile.
Fleeting in existence.
"The thing is," Tomi sighed, releasing her hand and leaning back against the wall, "you don't do the clapping anymore, but you still have that same fear. That belief that you're responsible for everything. That something you do, something you don't do, will tip the scales of the universe into ruin or salvation. It's egotistical as hell," he added in a lighter tone. "You're not responsible for anyone but yourself. And even that you don't have full control over. Never have. . . so ease up a little. The world's not going to fall apart if you let go of the reins just for a moment. Longer than a moment." He leaned forward slightly, bopping her on the nose. Yumiko's eyes widened at the liberty. "Relax. And sort things out with your girl. Or, I don't know, open your own bakery. Do something that will make you happy. Because I don't think this is it. And I swear you're going to get a backache from carrying the world around on your shoulders like you do. And unfortunately we don't have any chiropractors here."
"Tomi-"
"A real oversight, I know. Terrible luck. You'd think that at least one would find their way here. Well," he sighed, shrugged. "I still hold out hope. Mostly for your sake. You could use a few good cracks."
Her expression didn't twitch. "You should have become a comedian instead of a baker."
From the twinkle in his eye, Yumiko knew he was remembering the not-so-brief 'phase' she'd gone through when they were children, in which she'd been absolutely convinced that stepping on a single crack in the sidewalk would break their mother's back. So she'd avoided each and every one she could. Any time she'd slipped up, she'd had to stop and perform the 'clapping game' Tomi found so amusing.
He hadn't found it all that amusing back then, though. Rather, it had driven him to frustration.
A frustration that had reached boiling point in the wake of their grandmother breaking her back one weekend.
A completely unrelated event that had nothing to do with any cracks on sidewalks.
But no amount of hearing this at the time had managed to convince Yumiko.
Grandmother. Mother. So similar in sound. Of course the universe would get confused. Of course it would make a mistake.
She'd spent weeks scouring through her memories, again and again, searching for any recollection of when she might have made her own mistake. Slipped up. Broken that fatal rule and stepped on a crack.
When her searching inevitably dug up nothing, Yumiko would be overwhelmed by relief. The tension inside her finally giving out - like an overblown balloon that had at last been allowed to pop.
Only for the doubt to sink its claws into her once more. Minutes, hours, days later.
What if her memory was faulty?
What if she'd missed something?
What if she hadn't gone back far enough?
And the ritual would begin again.
For months after, she'd refused to go for any walks which involved cement footpaths. It was a trial just to make it to the car. Or between classrooms at school.
(nobody had understood.
nobody understood she was just trying to keep them safe.
protect them.
nobody understood that it wasn't a game)
Eventually, Tomi had lost his patience. Had knocked on her bedroom door one Saturday morning and told her he had an idea. A possible solution to her 'little crack problem'. But she would have to trust him.
Reluctantly, she had.
That day, he'd wrapped a blindfold around her face, hefted her up onto his back and set out the door. Yumiko had been tense with panic, trying to feel out the shifts in his gait, as though that would clue her in to whether or not he'd stepped on one of those dreaded cracks.
But there'd been no knowing.
No way to tell.
And eventually Yumiko had eased.
Their grandmother's back had suffered no further harm that day, nor had their mother's.
And nothing else had happened.
Nothing bad.
Nothing at all.
Their walks had continued like that for a few weeks until he'd shaken up the routine again, thrusting her into yet another hurricane of doubt and anxiety.
The blindfold remained.
Only this time, he wouldn't carry her.
This time, she would have to take those steps herself.
The first few attempts had resulted in a series of panic attacks that had sent her running up and down the stairs, clapping her hands as she counted each step.
But eventually they got a few meters away from the house.
And eventually a few more.
And more.
Sometimes, she could feel the indentation under the soles of her shoes. The cavernous dip. And freeze.
Each time, Tomi would take her hand and drag her along, not giving her a chance to linger.
As the weeks passed, that no longer became necessary.
It took three months for Yumiko to reach a stage where the blindfold could come off. Another month for the anxiety to fade to manageable levels each time she made that fatal mistake. Felt a crack.
The day they'd raced to the lights - full speed, no stops, no hesitations - Tomi had scooped her up in his arms the second they reached the pole. Scooped her up like a prize, like they'd just won a gold medal in the Olympics, and laughed. He'd laughed so long and so loud that eventually her own had started to bubble free. Stilted, hesitant, then growing stronger. It had been a long time since she'd laughed. But on that day she had. She'd laughed harder than she had in years.
And things had been good.
She had been good.
For a day.
Looking back now, Yumiko couldn't help but think that might have been one of the happiest moments from her childhood. Certainly, the happiest involving her brother.
She didn't focus on the cracks when she walked anymore. Didn't avoid them. Didn't need to.
And she would always be grateful to Tomi for that.
He'd helped her.
And had done a far better job of it than her own attempt to help him.
Than any of her attempts.
"You do love me, you know," Tomi hummed, yanking her from the memory. "It's why you can't help but meddle. You care too much not to." For once, it didn't come out as an attack and Yumiko softened slightly, not resisting as he took her hand again, toying with her fingers in a way that would have been irritating at any other time. "And, you know, I love you too. I'm just not sure we do all that well living in the same town. Or even the same country."
She smiled a little. "You might be right."
Their relationship had probably been at its best when there was an ocean to separate them.
"You take up a lot of space. Mind-boggling, really, for one so small. But you do. You always have. And I've never been able to take up much at all. Honestly, I prefer it that way."
Yumiko winced internally. "Mum and Dad-"
He waved a hand, stopping her. "The issue isn't that you take up more space than me, Miko. It's that when you're around me, you want me to take up just as much. I suppose it's guilt. Your way of trying to make up for the past. But I'd really rather that you didn't."
She glanced down at her feet, both to avoid looking at his face - and so that he couldn't see hers.
Looking back, examining her actions. . . Yumiko could recognize the truth in his words. It wasn't something she'd ever been aware of, that she'd realized she was doing - continued to do - but. . .
He was right.
She had wanted him to take up as much space as her. Had always wanted that. Because she'd thought that would fix things. Make them better. For him.
And for her.
She cleared her throat, raising her head. "Then in the future I'll try not to."
"Mmm," his face contorted a little, "might be a bit of a tall order. Let's start small. For instance, I'd really appreciate it if you kept me out of any conversations you have with Pamela Milton going forward."
This time, Yumiko couldn't keep back the slightest wince. "Understood."
He eyed her a moment and, even through the light humor still marking his face, Yumiko could see the doubt. The lack of belief.
In her.
(it hurt)
"Alright, then." Tomi righted himself off the wall, releasing her. "I suppose we best get going. It's very late. I can't believe I let you keep me here this long."
She rolled her eyes, following after him.
"You know I still have work in the morning, don't you?"
"So do I," Yumiko muttered, shooting a sour look at his back. Not something she was looking forward to after tonight. Maybe she should just stay home. It wasn't as though she had a boss to answer to, after all.
"Yes, yes the very important work of playing lapdog to the rich and famous. Exactly how many people have you bribed so far during your time here? I'm surprised the Miltons haven't run out of money yet. It's not as though the banks are making any more."
Yumiko's jaw clenched.
Tomi glanced over his shoulder. "Oh, don't give me that look. I'm speaking as a concerned brother. This isn't like you."
"Before now, we hadn't seen each other in over a decade. You have no idea what I'm like."
Or what I'm doing.
"I know the old Miko would have sooner set her hair on fire than become involved in corruption."
The old Miko would never have done a lot of things.
Too many things.
She wasn't her anymore. Could never be her again. These last few months in the Commonwealth had only cast that fact into harsher light. Before, when she'd been out there, in the world, the real world - living in the thick of violence and chaos, just trying to survive and keep together what few scraps of life and stability she could - it had been easy to imagine differently. To think. . . maybe.
Maybe one day, if they found a place - the right place - if the chaos stopped and the violence ended, if the world returned to what it had been. . .
Then maybe she could return with it.
But now she was here. In this place. This place that was the closest thing to the old world she would likely ever get the chance to inhabit. She had her career back. The career that had once been such an integral part of her identity. The reason she got up in the morning. Every morning.
She had it back.
She had everything back.
Everything but herself.
And Yumiko could play at civilized all she wanted but at the end of the day she could still remember far too clearly the sound of an arrow, whistling through air. . . obliterating skull. Still knew how long it took for someone to bleed out after having their throat run through. Hear the gurgles. The hopeless gasps. Still watched it happen in her nightmares. Over and over again.
She still knew what it was like to look into a person's eyes, see the life there, and choose to snuff it out.
She still knew too much.
Like Pandora's Box. Once all the horrors were unleashed, there was no shoving them back inside. No returning to the world of before.
The lid was open now. It could never be shut again.
The worst part was that it was becoming easier. Simple even. With every kill, the guilt in her gut lessened. She no longer hesitated. Couldn't remember the last time that she had.
It wasn't something that Yumiko would ever have believed possible. On that day she'd first pulled the trigger, she'd never thought that the knot of horror and dismay strangling her chest would eventually start to loosen, unfurl. That one day she wouldn't feel it at all.
Over the years, it was something that Yumiko had tried not to think about. Linger on. But since coming to the Commonwealth. . .
She'd been unable to think of anything else.
( 'how many people have we killed, Miko?')
But how could she ever explain something like that to Tomi when he'd spent the past ten years living in here? Safe. Clean.
Yumiko wondered what he'd say if she told him just how dirty she truly was. How much blood was on her hands. How much death.
Bribery was nothing in comparison to that.
"Things change," she murmured.
Tomi's mouth thinned, no words escaping as he gazed back at her for the longest time, something like disappointment shadowing the dark of his eyes. Somehow, it hurt more than any of the words he'd said that night. ". . . I suppose they do."
He left it at that, turning and making a path towards the exit.
Yumiko took a moment to inhale-
then followed after him.
Earlier that night
They'd only been dancing in silence for a few minutes when a noise reached Yumiko's ears. Faint, slightly off-key - and incredibly distracting.
She frowned. "Are you humming Tiny Dancer?"
"What?" Magna shrugged. "It's better than whatever the fuck this is."
She took a moment to focus her ears on the harpist. "Variations on a Theme of Mozart by Glinka."
"I can't believe you know that."
"It's not an overly obscure song, Magna," Yumiko said with a touch of exasperation.
She looked anything but convinced of this. "Uh huh."
Yumiko shook her head, deciding this was one battle it would be fruitless to try and fight, and relaxed once more against Magna's frame.
Elton John.
That was a surprise. Certainly a hop, skip and a jump away from Simple Plan, Green Day, and Oasis - all of which used to ricochet off the walls of Magna's apartment every time she found herself in a mood; which was often. Nor was it quite in league with Gary Jules' Mad World, which had been playing on repeat that one morning Yumiko had entered to find Magna staring morosely into a sad bowl of soggy cereal.
Apparently she'd woken to find her coffee tin despairingly empty of beans.
Yumiko had thought someone had died.
(never let it be said that Magna wasn't prone to theatrics)
Come to think of it, Tiny Dancer had been playing on the record player that night they'd danced at Hilltop too. She'd thought it mere happenstance - the result of their rather limited music collection - but now she wasn't so sure. Magna's taste in music was eclectic and oftentimes contradictory, as evidenced by her rather impressive memorization of every children's song known to man - not to mention her irritating habit of tuning into country music stations back in the days when she'd still been a passenger in Yumiko's car.
Much to her dismay.
(there was only so much misogynistic drivel she could listen to without jumping out the window)
At one point, she'd begun to suspect that Magna was doing it simply to get a rise out of her. The tell-tale smirk on her face had certainly seemed to support the theory.
But still.
Tiny Dancer.
"I didn't know you were an Elton John fan."
Magna shrugged. "I'm not."
"Uh huh." Yumiko's lips turned up as she echoed her earlier skepticism.
She huffed, looking away. "We weren't allowed to listen to him because of the whole gay thing. . . so of course I listened to him every day."
"Of course."
Yumiko would bet good money she'd only ever done so when her aunt or uncle were in hearing range, too. Magna loved to stoke the fire like that. To see just how high she could fan the flames without getting burnt.
It wasn't something Yumiko entirely understood.
True, she could relate to being self-destructive. She'd certainly had her fair share of moments in the past. But Magna's version?
Practically daring people to hurt you?
That was slightly harder to comprehend.
But that was what Magna did.
What she'd always done.
Poking the bear more and more, harder and harder until it bit you. And then continuing to poke it past that point.
(one day, Yumiko was scared she'd get torn to pieces)
Magna hesitated, fingers creating a restless pattern against her waist. "Maisie liked him more than I did. She used to dance to Tiny Dancer all the time. When Karen found out she was furious. Thought I was corrupting her."
Yumiko didn't ask what the punishment for that particular transgression would have been, merely tightened her hold. "She's been on your mind lately, hasn't she?"
"Karen?"
It was an obvious deflection. "Maisie."
Magna shrugged, glancing away again. "I guess."
Yumiko wondered whether it was this place. Being here, in a world that was so much like the old one. Hauntingly so.
Didn't ask.
Knew she wouldn't receive an answer.
Though, maybe it wasn't the Commonwealth at all. Maybe the cause went back farther than that, to a bedroom neither of them would ever inhabit again. Maybe the truth about Lawson's death wasn't the only thing that had been unearthed that day. Maybe Maisie's memory had been dug up too. Maybe more than just hers. Clawed forth from the earth as an unfortunate byproduct. There was a lot buried in the soil of those years. So much Yumiko could only guess at.
So much Magna had never told her.
Likely would never tell her.
"She's always on my mind," Magna said quietly after a long moment, gaze focused on a far-off point in the distance - though Yumiko doubted she was actually seeing anything that resided there.
Smiling sadly, she stroked the back of Magna's neck, occasionally toying with the loose strands of hair that had so captured her attention before.
Magna closed her eyes at the touch.
"Want to talk about it?"
"Not particularly."
The response was far too expected to be disappointing. So Yumiko continued with her idle strokes, devoting her attention for a time to one particular curl, tugging at it lightly - and watching as it bounced back into shape upon release. She'd missed playing with Magna's hair. Missed touching her in general. The simple, familiar touches that had become such a hallmark of their relationship.
Even if friendship was all that would ever be on the table for them again, Yumiko was relieved that they could still have this.
That she could still touch.
The humming returned, slightly louder than before. Only this time, it was soon accompanied by the sound of words.
Words that were more than a little off-key.
Yumiko bit her lip to conceal her amusement. Magna may have her fair share of talents, but the voice of an angel would never be one of them. A fact that was soon made impossible to focus on when she felt hands venture down her back, to her waist, further. . .
"Hold me closer tiny dancer. . ."
Yumiko narrowed her eyes, seizing her hands just as they wandered past the border of what could be considered decent.
Magna smirked.
And it was so endearing, so Magna, that she couldn't help but respond with a grin, the firmness of her rebuke falling to pieces. "Behave."
"If you insist."
"I do." Though her hormones were certainly screaming at her for the audacity, demanding that she step back her words. Take Magna's hands and return them to the path she'd so foolishly stolen them from.
Unfortunately, she'd become far too familiar with Magna's brand of flirting over the years, especially since getting together. Had learned how to interpret the different kinds. In Yumiko's experience, there were three standard types that tended to come into play.
The type Magna deployed as a tool of deflection and manipulation; the type that reared up as a defense mechanism; the type that was nothing more than mere playfulness;
and the type that was entirely genuine.
Right now, Yumiko was seeing large indications of the first and the third, but only trace elements of the fourth. Knew that, even if she hadn't found the will to stop her, Magna would have stopped herself.
(it was pathetic, really, just how disappointed she was by this realization)
Definitely going to be needing some of that wine after this.
(that is if Tomi hasn't singlehandedly finished it all off by then)
"You know, it'd probably be a great song to have sex to."
"Magna."
"What?" she laughed. "Just making an observation."
No, you're trying to distract from the subject of Maisie.
Don't think I don't know your game.
They'd been in each other's lives for thirteen years. There wasn't a single one of Magna's tricks she hadn't become intimately acquainted with in that time.
"Lay me down in sheets of linen. . . See? It even acts as a helpful guide, just in case you get lost. Lotta guys need that."
Yumiko caught the upturn to her lips. "You're incorrigible."
"I take that as a compliment."
"I know you do." And truthfully, it was one. "You're also wrong. The tempo's not right."
"If you slowed it down. . ."
"Are we really going to debate this?"
Yumiko couldn't keep the edge of disbelief from her tone. This was far from how she'd thought her evening would pan out when she'd been getting ready.
In fact, nothing tonight had turned out the way she'd thought it would.
"Hey, you're the one who wants to debate. You could just agree with me and leave it at that."
"Uh huh. Nice try - and stop," she caught her hands again, "trying to feel me up in front of everyone."
Magna's eyes twinkled. "Mm. You took longer to stop me that time."
"I was distracted."
"I'm sure."
Yumiko narrowed her eyes. Tried to remain firm. Managed it for no more than a second before a grin started to force its way onto her face. Too soon, she gave in, shaking her head.
Keeping a stern front in the face of Magna's teasing had never been her strong suit. And she'd missed this. Missed it far too much to even attempt such a front now.
"Think of it as payback," Magna added.
"Payback?"
"For that dinner party you roped me into going to."
Yumiko smiled at the memory. Or more accurately the memory of Magna's face for a sizable portion of that dinner party. Yumiko wasn't a cruel person but she couldn't deny that she'd gotten a certain level of entertainment out of the deer-in-the-headlights look that had seemingly become permanently attached to that face. "And why is payback in order? If I remember correctly you had a great time demolishing every appetizer in sight - and even some that weren't."
Her mother had been very impressed.
Yumiko suspected she'd decided to adopt Magna on the spot then and there.
"I was hungry."
"Mmm." Her cheeks pulled with amusement. "You must have been positively starving. I don't think I've ever seen anyone eat that much in my life."
And she had a brother who possessed a bottomless pit for a stomach.
Magna's mouth twisted a moment before she accepted defeat. "Fine. Not payback then. Making up for a wasted opportunity."
"Wasted opportunity?"
"Yeah." She squeezed Yumiko's waist slightly. "I could have felt you up in front of all your mum's stuffy work colleagues - wasted."
Yeah, right.
Magna hadn't even been comfortable with holding her hand back then, let alone feeling her up. Hell, touching her at all had been a step too far.
But that wasn't the point.
"I wouldn't really consider that wasted." Yumiko still would have been forced to continue seeing most of those colleagues after that party, after all. Unlike Magna.
"You sure? Might have gotten your mum to stop trying to set you up with one of them."
She paused. Tilted her head.
The idea held merit.
"Okay, you're right. Wasted opportunity."
Magna grinned.
Went to move her hands again-
And again, Yumiko almost didn't stop her.
"Magna. . ."
"Yep?"
For all her many attempts, Magna had never quite managed to master the art of looking innocent. Yumiko suspected that even as a child she'd only ever come across guilty as sin.
(even when she wasn't)
Yumiko narrowed her eyes. "Don't start something you can't finish."
"Who says I'm not going to finish?"
She sent her a look.
"Fine." Magna sighed, moving her hands with exaggerated reluctance firmly back into polite territory. "I'll behave."
"Good."
Yumiko only half meant it.
And from the look on Magna's face, she knew it too. The slight twitch of her mouth - not to mention the gloating gleam in her eyes - made that more than clear.
Yumiko pursed her lips, plotting the many ways she would get her back for this in the future.
Eventually.
"Ah!"
Yumiko blinked at the sound of her brother's exclamation, reluctantly retreating from the memory.
She narrowed her eyes as Tomi reached for an abandoned bottle of wine on the nearest table, snatching it up like a magpie that had just sighted a shiny new trinket.
"Nope." Yumiko swiped it from his grasp.
"Miko."
"You've had enough."
More than enough.
She went to place it back down, out of reach from sticky fingers this time, but hesitated. Eyed the amount of liquid, almost full way to the top. Glanced around.
By now, Magna had progressed to the far side of the room, but her eyes still darted towards them every few seconds. Apparently, still not entirely assured of Yumiko's ability to handle her brother.
She waited.
One moment.
Two.
Magna turned, starting a path towards the next table.
"Stand in front of me."
"What?"
She grabbed Tomi's shoulders, moving him over. "Stand. In. Front. Of. Me."
"God, you're so," he stumbled, throwing up his arms, "pushy! Does your wife know you're this pushy?"
Apparently, 'your wife' had become her brother's new favorite term.
Wonderful.
He better not let that slip in Magna's range of hearing.
Taking a breath, Yumiko tucked the bottle under her coat, out of sight - an action that did not go unnoticed.
Tomi eyed her with distinct disapproval. "Oh, so not only are you committing a crime but you're forcing me, your darling brother, to be an accomplice to it?" A grin split apart his face. "I'm proud of you. This is a big step. But you know, just because your wife has a criminal history, doesn't mean you have to break the law to impress her."
"I'm not breaking the law."
Hopefully.
It wasn't as though anyone else had shown up for this wine. Which was sad. It deserved a good home. Instead it had been left on a table. Lonely. Abandoned.
Wasted.
If anything, this was an act of charity on her part.
"Well, I wouldn't say you're following it to the letter either. Though do explain to me why it's alright for you to indulge in some illicit wine but not me."
"Well, thanks to you I never even got to finish a glass."
He smiled, apparently back to teasing her again rather than raking her over the coals. "Oh, but that dance was worth the trade, wasn't it?"
Yes.
A thousand times yes.
But it had certainly made her life a thousand times more complicated.
A/N: So what Tomi does with Miko is a sort of rough version of exposure therapy but it could definitely be improved on (I didn't want it to be absolutely correct because he's a kid with no actual knowledge of exposure therapy and doesn't even know that's what he's doing, or that Miko even has OCD). For instance, when doing exposure therapy for OCD it's better for the individual to actually focus on the provoking stimuli, whereas in this Yumiko is constantly being distracted from the fact that she's stepping on cracks. So it's not ideal. However, it still manages to work because she KNOWS that she's stepped on the cracks and yet the outcome she fears never happens as a result.