Trigger Warning: OCD

"You know, for the record, I'm not small," Yumiko huffed, trying to wrestle open the door with one hand whilst also keeping ahold of her brother with the other. She'd lost track of just how many times he'd wandered off during the far too long journey to his apartment - and she'd gotten sick of running after him in bare feet just to corral him back onto the correct path.

Like having a damn toddler.

"What?" Tomi asked distractedly, too busy examining the bottle she'd granted him the privilege of holding in exchange for staying put.

There was a click and the key turned at last.

Oh thank God.

Triumphantly, Yumiko opened the door and stepped inside. The rush of warm air was a welcome change from the chill - he'd forgotten to turn the heater off. Typical.

"Earlier, you called me small. I'm not small." When her brother neglected to follow, she huffed, tugging him in through the door. "Five foot eight isn't small."

With both of them safely inside at last, Yumiko released her death grip on his elbow, flexing her aching fingers with a grimace.

(not the kind of workout they were used to enjoying)

Tomi glanced down at her. "Really? Because you look like an ant from up here."

She elbowed him in the side. "I'm tall. Just not freakishly tall like you. There's a difference."

"If that's what you need to believe," he said absently, gaze returning to his precious bottle. "There's no shame in it. Not everyone can be as blessed in height as me. And we all have our shortcomings." His mouth twitched at the play on words, clearly quite impressed with himself.

"Ha ha." Yumiko allowed the sarcasm to bleed into her voice - before snatching the bottle from his grasp.

"Hey!"

"You didn't really think I'd let you keep it, did you?"

"Well, I'd hoped." He shrugged, moving past her. "Never to mind, I'm sure I can find a reasonable substitute around here somewhere."

Over her dead body.

She hadn't dragged his infuriating arse back here just so he could reach even greater levels of intoxication.

Having to hurl her brother over to the hospital on account of alcohol poisoning would just be the perfect cherry on top of this evening.

"Tomi, I swear to God if you don't go to bed right now I'll-"

"What?"

Yumiko considered her options. Crossed her arms. "I'll tell Magna where you live."

The blood drained from his face. "You're bloody ruthless, you know that?"

"Lawyer. Happens to be in the job description."

"So is stealing other people's joy apparently."

Grumbling, he headed into the bedroom.

Yumiko closed her eyes, releasing a breath. Just another hour. All she had to do was make it another hour and this would finally be over.

Hopefully.

She could do it. She could make it.

After all, she'd survived that first year of being Magna's attorney, despite her new client pulling out every trick in the book just to run her off. She could certainly survive another hour of her own brother's company.

Tomi may be the very definition of a migraine - but he was no Magna.

Placing the wine down by the door, Yumiko squared her shoulders and followed after him.

What she found was less than encouraging.

Tomi stood in the center of the room, turning in circles as he examined the ceiling fan - a task of apparently far greater importance than getting ready for bed. Gritting her teeth, Yumiko approached him.

Did she have to do everything herself?

"What drawer do you keep your pajamas in?" She reached for his shirt, intent on getting this ball on a roll - even if she had to shove it up the hill every inch of the way herself.

Tomi immediately took a step back, holding up his hands. "Yumiko, I love you like a sister - but some things must remain sacred."

She scoffed. "I don't see how there's anything sacred left. Or did you forget about the time I walked in on you wanking back in highschool?"

He stumbled, nearly falling over. "We swore an oath never to speak of that again." A grunt, as he struggled to right himself. "And trust me, that was far more traumatic for me than it was for you."

"I doubt it."

The amount of therapy sessions the ordeal had taken center stage in during the following years would certainly make a strong case against it. Her OCD had pounced on the incident. Sinking its teeth in, jaw locked, refusing to let go.

Had she known what she would find before opening that door?

Had it actually been intentional on her part?

Had she wanted to see that?

Had she liked it?

Of course not. She'd been as horrified and disgusted as Tomi at the time. But the truth mattered very little where Yumiko's thoughts were concerned. They'd always had the ability to make her doubt everything. Question everything.

Hell, they'd even made her wonder whether she'd pushed her favorite teacher down the stairs once - despite being several feet away at the time. The more Yumiko had looked back on the incident, tried to remember, to check, the more she could almost swear that she felt the fabric of Mrs Peterson's coat against her hands, the resisting weight of her body before she-

Her mind was like a soap opera, with no care for realism or continuity.

So what if was impossible?

So what if it made no sense?

Just as long as it made her question. Just as long as it made her doubt.

These days, Yumiko tried not to grant that doubt any space. To let it sink its hooks in. But there would always be moments where she floundered.

Where she listened.

The difference now was that, unlike back then, she knew what was happening. Knew why it was happening.

Back then she'd just thought she was losing her mind.

(or that she was the only one in the world who hadn't)

"I can't believe you'd bring that up," Tomi muttered, eyes trained on his shirt collar as his mouth screwed up with concentration. "The nightmares I've had. I'll never forgive Mum for not installing locks on our doors."

"You're not the one who actually had to see anything. . . talk about nightmares."

The image was permanently burned into her retinas.

"All the more reason for you to close your eyes and turn away now." Fumbling with the tie, he stumbled.

Yumiko reached out to help him-

"I've got it." Regaining his balance, Tomi shooed her away with a hand. "Boundaries, Miko. Did we not just have a talk about your interfering ways?"

Her interfering ways?

He was the one who hadn't stopped interrogating her all evening. Not to mention all his grand plans for her future. The diabolic matchmaking that could rival even their mother's.

But, no, she was the interfering one.

Rolling her eyes, Yumiko left him to his troubles. "Fine. But if you fall and crack your head open, don't come crying to me."

Tomi squinted at her. "You really do love to catastrophize, don't you? Tell me, do you always imagine the worst case scenario for everything?"

"No."

She hadn't imagined the world ending, for instance.

(a terrible oversight on her part, really)

Yumiko came to a halt in front of the dresser. "Which drawer?"

"Second from the top," he grunted, starting to work on the buttons of his shirt - and doing a piss poor job of it from what she could see. "And I think you do. No wonder you always look so exhausted."

She paused, shooting a scowl over her shoulder. "I do not."

Tomi hummed, eyes still focused on the buttons - as of yet, little headway had been made. Yumiko bit down on the urge to go back over and help him. "Why do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Imagine the worst for everything. I can't see it doing you any favors."

He was assuming it was something she had any control over.

As with most things in her life, she didn't.

She'd tried to fight that, tried to think less. . . disastrously. In the end, it had just become another compulsion. The trick, she'd learned, was in accepting the thoughts. Not fighting them. Not changing them. Not running from them.

Accepting them.

(easier said than done)

Yumiko suspected this explanation would sail right over her brother's head, though. It had taken her years of therapy to wrap her own around it.

So she went for a simpler one, that was still no less true.

Yumiko shrugged, opening a drawer. "I like to be prepared for everything."

Especially the worst things.

"And that helps?"

"Sometimes."

Though not nearly as much as she needed it to. And sometimes her imagination wasn't wild enough. Sometimes she missed things.

More than sometimes.

Since her high school philosophy days, she'd thought often of Thus Spoke Zarathustra. The concept of the Eternal Return - and all its moral implications. The imploration to consider every choice as if you would have to live with the consequences not just in one lifetime, but in every lifetime. Over and over again for all eternity.

Never do anything unless you would gladly live with the aftermath forever.

"But it's not just the worst things," Yumiko continued. "I imagine the best as well. And that's what I try to focus on." She glanced over her shoulder pointedly. "Except when it comes to cases of bodily harm."

Tomi's eye roll was subtle - but unmistakable - as he finally managed to work a button free. "Name one thing that you've imagined the best case scenario in relation to."

She didn't even have to think about it.

"Magna."

He paused on the next button. "Magna?"

"Yes. Magna." Yumiko lifted a shoulder at his baffled look. "I've always imagined the best when it comes to her."

Even if she hadn't always been right.

"Always?"

"Well. . . mostly always."

Sometimes she'd faltered.

Like with the cave.

With the cave, every nightmare she'd never wanted to face had filled her thoughts, taunting her, haunting her. . . impossible to turn away from. She'd tried to have Kelly's faith, her hope, had tried to-

but the cave had collapsed. The cave had collapsed and Magna had been trapped inside with an entire horde of sickos. In the dark. Without her. Alone except for Connie. And it had been so hard to believe that she would be okay. That Yumiko would ever get the chance to see her again. Talk to her. . . touch her.

But she had.

She'd heard her voice again, held her in her arms, inhaled her scent-

Magna had survived.

She'd made it out.

Made it back to her.

And even if their reunion wasn't everything that she'd expected - everything that she'd hoped for - it had still been the greatest relief of Yumiko's life.

(hell, it was almost enough to make her believe in a god)

"And this place." she added, turning back to the dresser and ducking her head. "I imagine the best for this place. All the things it could be. The good it could do. This place is. . ."

Full of promise.

And potential.

Right now, there were cracks. Welling with poison and decay. Cracks that were only growing wider, deeper.

But Yumiko could remember from all those days as a child when she'd walked with her eyes firmly fastened on the concrete beneath her feet, could remember that sometimes. . . grass grew between the cracks. Flowers, forcing their way out. Into the light.

Could remember that she'd liked those cracks the most.

Had thought that maybe, just maybe, if she accidentally stepped on one, it wouldn't end in calamity.

Hadn't risked it, of course, but still.

The thought had been there.

The hope.

She turned back to Tomi. "This place could really be something."

"Possibly." Despite this concession, there was little belief in the lightness of his tone. "But I'm not so sure it'll be what you want it to be."

Yumiko pursed her lips, turning back and reaching into the drawer. "I guess we'll see."

It frustrated her, just how many people were willing to write off the Commonwealth - and who believed she was naive for refusing to do the same. After everything they'd all seen, everything they'd been through, how could they so easily dismiss the one oasis they'd managed to find? Just because a thing was broken didn't make it worthless. Didn't mean it couldn't be fixed. In time. With enough care and attention.

But clearly she wasn't going to convince anyone of that tonight.

Dropping the subject, Yumiko yanked out a set of pajamas. They didn't match. Nothing in the drawer did. The fact filled her with an unreasonable amount of frustration.

Unreasonable because she hadn't cared about things matching in years, and hadn't cared beyond social necessity since she was a child.

(alright. So maybe she was a little more stressed than she'd allowed herself to admit)

"You know," Yumiko started, turning back around, "if you think I always imagine the worst possible scenario for everything then you haven't spent enough time with Magna."

She took it to a level Yumiko couldn't even hope to compete with.

"Well, she's a hard woman to pin down - and I'm not so sure I'd even want to now, given her newfound desire to stab me to death with a fork."

Yumiko's mouth twitched.

He noticed. "I can't believe you find that possibility amusing. What kind of sister are you?"

"The kind that's had to put up with far too much tonight." She threw the bundle of clothes at his head. "Now get changed."

"I will once you leave."

Huffing, she turned and stalked into the kitchen. "Happy?"

"The happiest."

"It's nothing I haven't seen before."

"Stop. Bringing. That up!" he grunted, and she heard the sound of a thump. Suspected his pants had strongly protested his attempt to disown them.

Yumiko poked her head out the doorway, just to ensure that he hadn't fallen in a heap or otherwise done serious damage to himself.

Nope, still upright.

Reassured, she retreated back inside, making a path towards the sink. Her mouth pressed into a thin line at the near-empty whiskey bottle on the counter. A bottle that had been full when she'd visited only two days ago.

Shaking her head, Yumiko added it to the growing list of things she was going to have to deal with in the future.

Another thump sounded.

"Still alive?"

". . . Yes!"

Rolling her eyes, she tapped her fingers against the counter. Waiting. "For the record, I wasn't bringing that up. I was actually referring to when we used to share a bath."

"This may come as a shock to you, Miko - seeing as you're not a doctor - but we've both changed quite a bit since we were children. Anatomically speaking, that is. You're still just as frustrating as ever."

"Me?"

Had he looked in the mirror lately?

It was a miracle she hadn't committed homicide yet.

There was another thump. Followed by the sound of swearing.

"Tomi?"

"Everything is fine!"

Yumiko closed her eyes, withholding a sigh. Her dreams of all this being over in an hour were rapidly losing viability.

She glanced longingly at the bottle on the bench.

More alcohol is the worst possible thing you could add to this situation right now.

Still bloody tempting, though.

Giving into her sigh, Yumiko leant back against the counter. "How's it going out there?"

"It would be going a lot faster without the constant mother henning! Believe it or not, Miko, I do know how to dress myself. Only mastered it by the time I was five."

"Slow poke - I was four."

Another thump and a litany of swears soared into the kitchen.

Yumiko smirked.

Earlier That Night

Magna's hand was starting to drift dangerously low again when Yumiko realized that she was going to have to go on the offensive if she was to stand any chance of surviving the evening with her sanity intact.

Thankfully, she knew all of Magna's weak spots.

"It wouldn't have been necessary, you know," Yumiko commented.

"What?"

She shrugged, deciding to fight fire with fire by trailing her fingers over Magna's neck. The place she'd always been most sensitive. Even with the barrier of her shirt collar to contend with, there was still enough vulnerable flesh for Yumiko to enact her attack.

Or, more accurately, revenge.

She hid a smile at the shiver this action elicited, continuing in her ministrations and watching as the skin beneath her nails took on a faint flush. "Feeling me up."

Magna blinked, momentarily derailed. "Huh?"

Yumiko bit her lip. "Feeling me up at that party. It wouldn't have been necessary - my mum stopped trying to set me up with anyone the day she met you."

"Right." Magna cleared her throat, shifting her chin slightly to escape her fingers. "Never really got that."

"What's not to get?"

"Come on. Seriously? Not like I was the kind of person your mum was looking for when she was scouring the pool of fancy rich candidates. If anything, the mere thought of me messing around with her only daughter should have sent her efforts into overdrive." Magna lifted a shoulder. "I get that she thought we were dating. For whatever bizarre reason. But I'll never get why she was okay with it."

They'd had this conversation before.

Yumiko doubted she'd reap any more success than she had the last time.

"She liked you."

"Yeah," she snorted, eyes widening a fraction, "which is even more unbelievable."

"Why?"

"Um," Magna stared at her like she'd suddenly lost all common sense, "ex-con. Didn't finish high school. Corrupter of good little boys and girls everywhere."

Yumiko laughed, raising a brow in disbelief. "'Corrupter of good little boys and girls'? Is that your slogan now?"

Magna huffed. "Look, no parent's ever wanted me hanging around their kids. Your mum was a freak of nature."

She softened slightly, returning her fingers to Magna's skin, though this time her strokes were gentle rather than teasing. "No. She was just a good judge of character - runs in the family." Yumiko's mouth tilted up, hoping the action would tempt a smile from Magna's in return.

It did - though the victory was soon overshadowed by a scoff. "Nope. Pretty sure being a freak of nature is what runs in the family." She leaned forward slightly, expression turning solemn. "But I love and accept this about you."

Yumiko rolled her eyes, shoving her away.

Magna laughed.

Loudly.

The outburst earned more than a few bewildered - and dirty - looks from their unwelcome audience and Yumiko hastily grabbed one of Magna's suspenders, tugging her back in. "I can't take you anywhere."

She looked up, hoping to see some small sign of shame or contrition - and faltered.

Magna's mouth was stretched wide, the widest she'd seen it in months. Eyes bright with unfettered joy. It was hard not to cave to.

"Be honest, you've been wanting to do that all night."

"Do what?"

She glanced down at Yumiko's hand, which still remained firmly attached to one suspender - waggled her eyebrows.

Rolling her eyes, Yumiko released her with a snap. "Not exactly what I had in mind."

Magna took a step closer, dropping her gaze. "But you did have something in mind?"

Shaking her head, Yumiko fought back a grin. "Like I said, you're incorrigible."

"Thankyou." The bounce in her step was as obnoxious as her smile and Yumiko shook her head, unable to keep her own from branching out as they seamlessly fell back into their dance.

"It wasn't a compliment."

"Yeah, it was."

Yeah. It was.