1. She was terrified of Kiwi.
She doesn't think she'll ever get tired of staring at the sky.
She's lying on her back, damp grass tickling her bare legs and water droplets falling from the branches arching overhead. She breathes deep, the smell of rain and petrichor strong in the forested edges of the school grounds. It's been so long since she's felt rain, so long since she's smelled damp dirt and fresh pine, so long since she could lay on her back and watch the sky change colors.
Yumi'd laughed at her, not mean like some of the other girls at school, but amused. Like how she laughs at Odd's antics when no one's really paying attention. Aelita had felt a brief sting, like an insect bite, but she gets it. No one else here lays in the damp grass just to watch the clouds scud across a sky that can never decide what color it wants to be.
She shifts, bends an arm beneath her head and breathes deep and easy. It's the most relaxed she's felt in seems like years.
/
She's cold. The ground crunches beneath her feet, white like the ice sector but softer than the hard planes of ice she's used to. Snow, her memory supplies. She's in the woods, dark pines stretching far above her. She can hear something in the distance, she can sense something close to her. She imagines teeth white as snow and eyes that glow like a XANA symbol.
/
Aelita startles awake to the sound of something barking. She catches sight of sharp teeth, white and sharp. A pink tongue that lolls and amber eyes that stare at her from behind a pointed nose. She can't suppress her scream, scuttling back on the damp grass, crab-like on her hands and feet. The creature pauses, tilts its head to one side, and then resumes barking.
Her palm scrapes off a rock, the sting sharp and jarring. She wraps cold fingers around it, throws it at the animal advancing on her. The creature yelps, darts sideways when the rock glances off its shoulder. Its lips pull back and she can see the teeth clearly now.
"Kiwi! Kiwi, here, boy! Kiwi?"
Odd appears then, winded and panting. He trips over his feet as he lunges for the creature, clips a leash to the collar around its neck. Aelita breathes heavily, back pressed to the rough bark of a tree. She stares at the creature; at the way it whines and sniffs the ground suddenly uninterested in her.
"Princess? What're you doing out here?" She looks up, sees Odd staring at her with his eyebrows pulled low over his eyes. "Was that you who screamed?"
"I…I had a nightmare."
"Out here?"
"I must've fallen asleep."
Odd tilts his head, motion eerily similar to the dog's own head tilt from earlier. Aelita shakes the image from her head. "Good thing Kiwi found you then, eh? Who's a good little diggity dog? You are, aren't you?" He holds his hand out toward her, offers her a smile. "C'mon, lets get you back inside and out of the rain, yeah?"
She hesitates, takes his hand and lets him pull her to her feet. Kiwi sits and stares, amber eyes bright and watchful. Odd glances down, looks at the blood smeared across his palm. He looks up at her again, face shuttered and unreadable in the growing darkness. She hadn't realized how late it had gotten.
"C'mon, lets get you taken care of."
She falls in step with him, but can't shake the unease that settles like a sharp rock in the pit of her stomach.
/
She dreams of snow and ice and towering trees.
It must be Earth, she thinks, because there's no snow on Lyoko.
She dreams of prey and predator, short breaths and sharp teeth.
It must be Earth, she thinks, because she was never scared on Lyoko.
She dreams of amber eyes and mournful howls, pink tongues and resonating barks.
It must be Earth, she thinks, because she never dreamed on Lyoko.
/
She's the first one at breakfast in the morning, waiting outside the doors until one of the adults open them. She doesn't know this teacher, not yet, but she has gray hair like a storm cloud and wears glasses like Jeremie. The woman raises one sharply plucked eyebrow.
"You're up early," the teacher states.
"I'm hungry," she replies, confused.
The woman huffs, eyes crinkling slightly in the corners to bely her amusement. "You must be Mr. Della Robbia's cousin. Come in, don't dawdle there all morning."
Aelita scoots past the teacher, takes a tray from the cabinet, and makes her way through the line. She sits at a table near one of the windows, stares out the glass as she picks at her tartine, swirls her spoon idly in the cherry yogurt cup, sips from a cup of tea that scalds her tongue.
Ulrich is the first to join her, hair damp and skin flushed. He drops his tray with a clatter on the tabletop across from her, jerking her from thoughts of snow and teeth.
"Sorry," he mumbles around a mouthful of pain au chocolate.
"It's alright," she replies. She reaches for her orange juice, winces as her injured palm touches the glass. "Where are the others?"
"Odd's sleeping. Yumi usually eats at home since she has to wait for her brother." He pauses, gulps his juice down in one long swallow. Aelita can't help but watch, impressed when he doesn't choke. "Jer's probably doing computer stuff."
"Are you always up this early?" She looks around the cafeteria, notes a few more tired faces have appeared while she was distracted. "It seems very calm this early."
She picks up her butter knife, reconsiders and switches it to her left hand instead. Ulrich hums, glances around as though noticing his surroundings for the first time. "That's because most of the loud ones are still asleep. I had an early practice," he states, voice wry. He nods at her glass of barely touched orange juice. "You going to drink that?"
"Uh," she pauses, "do you want it?"
"Thanks," he says. He grabs the glass, downing it in two gulps this time. "Come on."
"Where to?"
Ulrich pushes back from the table, one eyebrow raised incredulously. Aelita gets the feeling it's a look he wears almost as much as Yumi's eyes-to-the-sky questioning look. "Don't think I didn't notice your hand. Let's get you fixed up."
They leave their trays on a table near the door to be collected by cafeteria staff. Aelita feels eyes watching her, but they aren't the amber-eyed hungry ones from her dreams. These are curious, sly and hidden beneath the fall of hair.
"We aren't going to the dorms, are we?" she asks when Ulrich takes a right turn. He turns to look at her, eyebrow raised once more. His hands are stuffed into his pockets as he walks effortlessly backwards, not even bothering to check where he's headed. "I don't want to wake Odd if he's sleeping."
Ulrich snorts then, mouth ticking up in the corner. "Trust me, no one can wake Odd when he's asleep." He turns on his heel, facing forward again and his shoulders shrug. "Except the sound of Kiwi heaving. That'll get him up and moving faster than any alarm clock."
Aelita wrinkles her nose. "Pleasant."
"But no, we aren't going to the dorms."
He brings her to the gymnasium instead. Aelita follows him into the cavernous interior. It's strange, seeing it empty with the wooden floors polished and gleaming. Their tennis shoes squeak as they cross the waxed floor to a door between the locker rooms. Aelita has only been in the gym twice during her stay. Out of all the places, it seems the most foreign.
The door Ulrich opens is to an office space. There's an old, dilapidated sofa against one wall, an array of variously sized filing cabinets against the back wall, a white board with symbols she can't decipher, and a desk overflowing with paperwork. She glances around, curious at this new space. It's the messiest she's seen.
"Jim's office," Ulrich explains. He opens a cabinet next to the door, pulls out a tray of antiseptic and bandages. "Let me see your hand."
"He doesn't mind you coming in here?"
Ulrich is quiet for a moment, sorting through bandage packets until he finds what he's looking for. "Jim's cool when you get to know him."
"Oh." She holds her hand out, stares at the scabbed over scratches on her palm.
"What did you do anyway?"
Aelita hesitates. Her fingers half-curl, remembering the shape and weight of the rock. The rough texture and the sharp point that her hand had skidded over in her rush to escape the creature. The way it had felt leaving her hand when she'd thrown it.
"I cut it on a rock," she says finally. Her breath hitches when he presses a paper towel covered in antiseptic to her hand.
"Yeah, stings a bit, huh? Not like Lyoko where you just…heal." His head is bent, attention focused on her wound. Aelita stares at the hair on the back of his neck, watches the way his hand cradles her, the careful and thorough pressure as he cleans the scratches. "On Earth you've gotta be more careful. You don't get health back, not like Lyoko."
"I remember that," she admits.
He sets the paper towel aside, opens a packet and extracts an adhesive bandage. "You'll adapt," he states, voice firm. He strips off the backing, adheres the bandage to her hand. "Try not to get it wet or it'll loosen. You want to keep it covered and clean."
She curls her fingers into a fist, holds it tight for a moment before relaxing them. The bandage pulls slightly at her skin, but it holds. "Thank you," she says, and means it.
. . … . .
The knock at her door comes an hour before curfew. She has a towel wrapped loosely around her head and her new fuzzy slippers on. She opens the door and is greeted with Odd's amused smile. His eyes glance over her and his smile widens. "Looking good, Princess," he states.
For some reason it makes her self-conscious, makes her reach up to adjust the tilted towel turban. She scuffs a fuzzy-slippered foot over the floor. "What're you doing here?"
"Taking the Kee-ster for a walk, you wanna come?" He holds up the leash and she notices the dog sniffing the baseboards next to her door.
"I'm not dressed…"
"Looks like clothes to me."
"Odd," she says. She partially closes the door, slowly so as not to attract the dog's attention.
Odd tilts his head, eyes narrowed in that way he gets when he's assessing the best form of attack. She'd seen it so often on Lyoko that it's strangely comforting to see it on Earth; just not when it's directed at her. Her fingers grip the doorknob tightly.
"I'm tired," she adds. It's not like Odd would make her go. It's not like he'd let the dog attack her. But she still presses a shoulder to the door, braces for a shove that doesn't come. In the hallway, Kiwi yawns, lips pulled back, tongue lolling, and teeth sharp in the artificial light. "Maybe tomorrow."
"Everything alright, Aelita?" he asks.
"Everything's fine. I'll see you at breakfast."
She shuts the door without waiting for a response. She can't help but sag against it, forehead pressed to smooth wood and shoulders trembling with energy she can't contain, can't expend.
/
Snow and teeth.
Cold and fear.
Running, running, running.
She misses the dreamless stasis of Lyoko.
Not enough to return, just enough to regret.
She wonders if it's her or XANA that's at fault.
/
"What's wrong?" Jeremie asks.
"Hm? Nothing." She's lying on the floor in his room, staring up at the blank eggshell ceiling. She misses the glow of stars, the shift of colors in the sky. She doesn't understand why people would choose to stay inside when there's so much to see outside. She tilts her head, feels the pull of muscles and tendons as she overextends her neck to look at him. "Why?"
"You've been…off." He's sitting in his desk chair, one leg tucked up under him and glasses smudged from too many sleepless nights. His eyes are fastened on her though, watching her with a scrutiny she hasn't figured out how to interpret yet. "I mean, you seem off."
"Off?"
"Not yourself."
Aelita isn't sure how he can tell. She isn't even sure who she is now.
"I'm alright, just…it's a lot to take in," she says.
"Sissi isn't being difficult still, is she?" Jeremie asks. He leans forward, braces his elbow on his knee and rests his chin in his palm. "Ulrich said he'd talk to her."
"Sissi's fine." She runs her fingers over the rough, pebble-textured carpet, enjoys the way the threads catch on her nails. "I'm just not used to sleeping, I guess."
Jeremie smiles. "Neither am I."
. . … . .
Aelita's in the kitchen washing the remaining pans from the cookies Yumi made. She's found she enjoys dishwashing. It's mindless in a way that still keeps her occupied. Her hands are busy, the water is soothing on her skin, and sometimes she enjoys blowing soap bubbles off her fingertips. It lets her think, too. Lets her mind wander over things she learned, things she experienced, things she wonders.
Yumi's in the living room, setting out cookies and drinks for their movie night. She can hear her ordering Hiroki upstairs and out of her hair as the doorbell rings.
"Yumers!"
"Don't call me that," Yumi's voice carries. "What's he doing here?"
"Ah, c'mon, don't talk about Ulrich like that. He's standing right here."
"Funny."
Aelita sets the baking sheet aside, grabs the kitchen towel to dry her hands, and steps into the hallway leading to the front door. Ulrich and Odd are unzipping jackets, Jeremie is fighting with a tangled scarf, and Odd's dog is panting at his feet. Aelita pauses, watches Kiwi with growing trepidation.
"Odd insisted on bringing him," Ulrich states. He glances up, catches sight of Aelita hovering in indecision. "Hey, Ai."
"Hello," she greets. She doesn't come closer though, mentally calculating the reach of the leash still attached to Kiwi's collar.
"Kiwi hasn't been feeling too well," Odd says. He kneels down, runs a hand over the dog's flank and Aelita feels a tremble climb down her spine. "I didn't want to leave him alone."
"How surprisingly considerate," Jeremie says, finally wrestling the scarf from his neck. He adjusts his glasses, smiles shyly at Aelita before looking down at Odd's bent head. "He isn't going to vomit in the middle of the movie, is he?"
"Ew, gross," Yumi groans.
"Nah, he's a good little Kiwi, aren't you?"
Yumi sighs, rolls her eyes to the ceiling like she's searching for strength and then glances over at Aelita. "Grab the cookies and lets get this marathon started, yeah?"
"Sure," she replies. She seizes the chance to retreat into the kitchen, grabbing the last platter of cookies still warm from the oven and oozing chocolate onto the ceramic.
"Cookies?" Odd asks, voice bright. "Yumi, you are my favorite, you know that right?"
Aelita can't suppress her smile as she reenters the living room. Odd's sprawled haphazardly on the sofa, Kiwi tucked into his side, with his feet propped on Ulrich's lap no matter how many times the other boy shoves them off. Jeremie's seated on the loveseat by the window and Yumi's curled into the armchair. Aelita sets the platter on the coffee table, crosses the rug on light feet, and curls onto the other end of the loveseat.
She catches Odd's quicksilver smirk and then Ulrich steals a platter of cookies to himself and Odd's attention drifts to more pressing matters. She releases a breath, rests her head against the back of the loveseat. The brush of cool fingertips against her bare wrist startle her into looking up. Jeremie flushes, holding a pilfered cookie out to her.
"Scary movies are really very formulaic," he explains. "Once you realize that, they aren't that scary."
She smiles and takes the offered cookie, nibbles at an edge. "I'm sure I'll be fine," she replies.
"Me too," he agrees, voice soft under the argument between Ulrich and Odd. Her eyes lift, meet Yumi's across the coffee table. The older girl rolls her eyes, reaches for the remote to start the movie, and ignores the boys' antics. Aelita settles back into the soft cushions, tries to ignore the feeling of being watched.
/
They're on the third movie. She doesn't quite get the draw of horror movies, but they're fun, especially when Jeremie critiques the science behind the zombie virus, or Odd lies and moans about how he'll never eat again. Aelita's migrated to the floor, blanket wrapped around her and arm and head resting on the cushion of the love seat. Her legs stretch out in front of her, feet twitching back and forth to keep from falling asleep.
"I'm telling you," Odd says, voice loud, "she's the next one to go. There's no way-"
"Odd," Yumi warns, "if you don't shut-up, I am revoking your movie night pass."
"You wouldn't!" Odd gasps. He kicks Ulrich in the leg. "Ulrich, do something."
"Gag you?"
Aelita glances up to see Odd looking at Ulrich, eyes confused but smirk tugging at his mouth. "As fun as that sounds," Odd drawls, "I meant control your girlfriend."
Yumi chokes, splutters on her glass of coke and Ulrich flushes like he's been sunburned. Aelita snorts, turns back to the television screen to watch the girl on screen creeping down the passageway, leg bleeding and breath loud. Odd's probably right, she thinks, the girl's practically a goner.
"Odd, we are not-!" Yumi exclaims.
"How many times do I have to tell you-?" Ulrich demands.
"Statistically, he's probably correct," Jeremie chimes in, not paying the impromptu pillow fight on the sofa any attention.
On screen, the girl pushes open a dingy door and the music goes quiet. In the living room, something cold and pointed presses into Aelita's foot. She can't suppress a scream, jerking her feet inward and drawing her knees up to her chest. Kiwi yelps, ears flattening from where he's sat beneath the coffee table.
"Princess?"
"Aelita?"
She bounces to her feet, fleeing to the kitchen without a backward glance. It's not that it had hurt, it had just startled her. She digs in Yumi's fridge for the carafe of water. She doesn't know how she hadn't noticed the dog moving from sofa to floor. She isn't sure how long Kiwi had been sitting there watching her.
"Aelita?" She looks up from her perusal of the cupboard to see Yumi in the kitchen doorway. "Are you alright?"
"Fine, just thirsty." She grabs a glass, fills it to brimming, and gulps down the cool water. It calms her racing heart.
Yumi studies her a moment longer, crosses the kitchen to close the refrigerator door. "It's just a movie. We can watch something else if it's too scary." She pauses, finger running along the condensation on the carafe. "Sometimes I forget you haven't grown up watching them."
"It's not…" she trails off. In the silence she can hear the boys talking in hushed voices, hears muffled screams and the wet sucking sound of someone being murdered on screen. She takes a breath. "I was just startled." She meets Yumi's dubious look, smiles at her wide and endearing – the same one she's seen Odd turn on skeptical teachers and classmates. "I'm alright."
"You're sure?"
"Positive." She finishes the glass of cold water, sets it in the sink. "Anyway, have to see if Odd's right about who the killer is."
"God help us if he is," Yumi mutters, but she's smiling.
Aelita leads the way back into the living room, ignores the way she feels her friends' gazes heavy on her shoulders. She climbs onto the loveseat next to Jeremie, tucks the throw blanket tightly around her and presses the soles of her feet to the space just above Jeremie's knee.
"You alright?" Jeremie asks, voice unsteady and cheeks pink.
"Of course." She smiles at him, almost means it.
He leans in a little, hand pressed to her forearm. She can feel it tremble, like he's scared too, like maybe he isn't as unaffected by the film as he seems. "You don't have to be scared," he tells her, voice hushed. "You're braver than any horror movie character. I've seen it."
She doesn't know how to respond, so she just reaches over and squeezes his hand. She settles into the sofa, feet tucked away from any potential canine attacks, and keeps an eye out for Kiwi. The dog's settled under the coffee table, tail over his nose, but she can sense him watching her through the rest of the movie.
. . … . .
They're sitting in the library, working on their history assignment, when Ulrich looks up, places his pen between the pages, and settles back on the chair. Aelita pauses, highlighter bleeding into paper. He's wearing his serious face, the more-than-usual-serious face. The one he wears whenever he's about to broach something he doesn't want to.
"What is it?" she asks. She winces when she sees the spread of blue highlighter on her notes, sets the marker aside. "What?" she repeats.
"Last month you convinced Odd to do your Norwegian lessons in your room."
"…Yes?"
"You never want to join game night."
"Yumi and I make plans while you guys," she waves a hand uncertainly, "bond?"
"I didn't like Kiwi when I first met him either."
She opens her mouth, closes it, tries again. "I don't dislike Kiwi."
Ulrich arches an eyebrow disbelievingly. He folds his arms over his chest, leans back in the chair. "You didn't run from the movie, did you?"
Aelita drums her fingers on the tabletop. Her stomach knots, twists, and recoils. She swallows, mouth parched as the desert sector. "No," she admits. "I don't dislike him, I just…"
Ulrich waits, but she can't go on, can't find the words. It doesn't make sense, there's no way she can properly explain the fear that gnaws her bones like sharp teeth in winter. She runs a finger over the wet highlighter ink, stains her fingertip blue.
"You're scared of him?" Ulrich supplies after a small eternity.
"Maybe." She looks up, meets Ulrich's steady gaze. "Odd loves him though. I can't…I just need more time."
Ulrich's mouth quirks slightly. "That's what he told me when I told him I'd mail Kiwi to Norway myself." Aelita feels her mouth drop open and Ulrich chuckles, warm and brief. "The dog's a menace," he admits. "I should have shipped him back when I had the chance."
"Why didn't you?"
Ulrich pauses, lifts one shoulder in an approximation of a shrug. "Odd grew on me. And then Kiwi grew on me. Like a fungus."
Aelita snorts, kicks Ulrich's shins lightly beneath the table. "I think that's a lie."
"Only partially," he admits. He unfolds his arms, picks up his pen. "The dog's a menace to shoes and paper, but he won't hurt you, Ai. You're safe here."
"I know," she replies, voice soft. "Thank you."
. . … . .
Odd leaves a two-page handwritten list of instructions and emergency contact numbers. He emails it to her as well, just in case. He texts her from the airport and Aelita rolls her eyes. She leans over the side of the bed, snaps a photo of Kiwi gnawing on a bone and sends it back to Odd.
All good, she types.
Thx again Princess! Give Kiwi a kiss from me
Enjoy Italy, she replies.
She's staying behind while the others return to their families for break. As such, she's on Kiwi-duty apparently. She crosses her legs, sits on her bed and watches the dog. Over the past few months, she's spent more time around him, but she can't shake the unease that still settles heavy as sour milk in her stomach whenever he's around.
Sensing the attention, Kiwi lifts his head. He barks once, tail thumping against the carpet. Aelita shifts, wriggles fuzzy-socked toes against her comforter. Her phone chirps again and she sighs, picking it up once more.
Uv got this
She can't resist the small smile at Ulrich's text. Odd's going to drive me mad with his check-ins.
Just w8 til he gets dstract by pasta
Fingers crossed
She waits a moment but there's no response. With a shrug she sets her phone aside, rests her chin in her hands and studies the small dog. "Well, Kiwi, looks like it's just you and me," she states.
Kiwi ignores her, back to gnawing the bone.
/
She still dreams of snowscapes and wolf howls.
The snow crunches beneath her boots and her breath comes in freezing puffs of moist air. She can feel the frost on her eyelashes, the sting of cold against exposed skin. She shivers as she moves, one foot in front of the other, hurrying down the never-ending lane toward the warm glow of firelight through a window.
The wolves howl beneath a cloud-covered moon, pants and footsteps close to heel.
She breaks into a run, lungs gasping and arms pumping.
The wolves howl, teeth catching at scarf and skirt.
She stumbles, trips, falls.
Falls.
Falls.
/
She wakes in a tangled mess of blankets and pillows on the floor of her room. Kiwi is standing over her, silhouetted by the security light shining through her window. Her heart is racing and she can't catch her breath, can still hear the howls in her ears. Kiwi whines next to her, presses small paws to her shoulder and licks her chin encouragingly.
"Stop," she mutters. She reaches up to push him away, curls her fingers in warm fur. "Stop," she repeats.
Kiwi ignores her, wriggling beneath her arm and snuffling into her shoulder. She feels his sides rise and fall with his breathing, feels her own breathing slow and steady to match his breaths. "Ulrich was right," she mumbles. "You are a menace."
Kiwi puffs kibble-scented breath in her face, licks her chin again.
Aelita shifts, stretches cramping legs, and settles in to the cocoon of bedding that's followed her to the floor. She doesn't quite fall asleep, but she dozes off to the steady warmth of Kiwi's body and the smell of kibble and dog fur.
/
Odd blows in like a tornado, Ulrich trailing him sedately, hands in pockets and eyes rolling. Aelita looks up from where she's playing tug-o-war with Kiwi on the floor as Odd stumbles through the door, tripping on an untied shoelace.
"Not a word," he calls over his shoulder.
"Wouldn't dream of it," Ulrich drawls with enough nonchalance that Aelita knows it'll be a thing.
"Kiwi! Aw, Kee, how's the bestest little dog in the world?" Odd asks, ignoring his roommate. He drops to his knees, pulling Kiwi into a wriggling, yapping hug.
"Hello, Odd, so nice to see you, too. My break was quiet, your dog destroyed my favorite fuzzy slippers. How thoughtful of you to ask. How was Italy?"
"Hey, Ai," Ulrich greets like a polite, respectable person.
"Yeah, yeah, you sent me a picture of the slippers already. Check my bag, I got you better ones." Odd's bent over the dog now, giving him belly scratches and talking in Norwegian. Ulrich rolls his eyes.
"How was it?" Ulrich questions.
Aelita stands up, dusts her hands on her corduroys and shrugs. "Not bad," she admits. She shifts slightly, glances over her shoulder at Odd and Kiwi. "Bit like a fungus," she adds.
Ulrich laughs, amused and unrestrained. She sees the tension drain from his shoulders and offers him a crooked smile in return.
"You can stop laughing," Odd comments from the floor. "At least Kiwi appreciates me. Don't you, huh?"
Aelita shakes her head, crouches down to unzip Odd's backpack and rifle through for her replacement slippers. She makes a face, shoving aside a sweater and half-opened snacks, until she finds a plastic bag. She pulls it free, grinning when she opens it to reveal a pair of frog-headed fuzzy slippers. Odd's watching her when she looks up and he grins at her.
"Told you they were better."
"They're alright."
Odd snorts, tosses Kiwi's tug toy at her and she can't suppress her laugh. She reaches over, scratching Kiwi behind the ears.
"Don't chew these," she orders. Kiwi stays sitting, but his gaze is fixed on the fuzzy frog slippers. Aelita sighs, tucks them back in the bag and out of sight.