Because Brent bugged me to write it, here are Elise and Ayato's Adventures in Boston, fighting crime and writing computer programs. Or maybe just the computer programming part, actually. They're such dorks.
Please forgive any typos, mistakes, or the liberties I took with other peoples' characters (especially Ayato)! There are some notes at the bottom, for those interested! Enjoy!
The Ghost in Me
It was kind of odd, making a new life in a new place where she didn’t know anyone. But it was refreshing and exciting, and Kenz had always said, “You’re stronger than you think, Elise.” That was, she reflected restlessly, true enough.
She was already awake when the alarm went off, buzzing static in her ear. She made no move to turn it off; she stared at the ceiling of the loft apartment she shared with Ayato and waited for him to wake up.
He stirred; an angry mop of black hair shifted and one eye blinked sleepily at her. “Don’t you have class?” he asked in his morning voice. It was thick with sleep and accent as always, muffled by the pillow. She liked the morning voice – it was gentler, somehow, than his everyday drawling tone, smothered with arrogance and indifference as it was. The Aloof Foreigner act disappeared when he was crossing between sleep and wakefulness, and she heard the man that he really was underneath it all, the one unafraid to let his feelings leak into his voice. It was a part of him that he showed to only her, and that made her feel inordinately special. She turned on her side, head pillowed on her hands, so she could see him.
“Yes...” A single eyebrow raised at her; he pushed the bangs from his face so he could look at her uninterrupted. She’d been meaning to sit him down for a haircut for a full week now. Maybe today.
“You are going to class, aren’t you?” The syllables were soft as he tried to work the sleep from his tongue. “The second week of school—”
“I know.” She sighed and dropped her eyes to stare at the cleft between pillow and sheet; echoed over and over, the soft and frustrated sound felt like a scream to her. The apartment was cavernous, split into rooms by screens and stairs and thin walls that did nothing to hide sounds bouncing from one end to the other. It’s nicer than the dorms, Ayato had remarked the first night they’d slept there, and furniture scavenged from thrift stores and boutiques had filled the place with warmth and light and things, but she still felt like something was missing.
Ah. I know what it is. She frowned.
“What’s wrong?” He was concerned – she could tell that much just from his voice. He could read her like a book, and she was bad at hiding her emotions anyway, a silly thing for a girl who spent much of her adolescence in the shadows of a much more enticing specimen of girlhood. She shrugged, mussed hair falling forward over her shoulders.
“I don't know, it's just...” She frowned again, unsure of the words. “I... don't feel like going to class today.”
Ayato gave her a sleepy-confused look (the second of her favorite Ayato looks) and shifted over to put a hand to her forehead. “You're not feverish,” he muttered, and peered into her eyes.
“Of course not, I feel fine!” She shrugged again; he made a surprisingly gentle gesture then, brushing her hair away from her eyes.
“You never skip class,” he pointed out. She couldn't protest to that. “You want to tell me what's going on?”
“Nothing's going on,” she said, frustrated. “I just don't feel right today. Something's off.” Shaking her head, she looked up at him. “You need a haircut.”
“Don’t change the subject!” He sounded more awake now and poked her in the forehead. “Go to class, Elise.”
“Look, I don’t...” He looked very serious all of a sudden, and she pulled the covers over her head and hunched down to hide. “Just—”
He burrowed under the covers and attempted to get at her, but she slithered away with practiced ease. “No, stop!” she said as his fingers brushed at her waist. A laugh escaped her lips – he knew how ticklish she was in the mornings. “Ayato, sto—”
“Got you,” he said, and pulled the covers away. He had her pinned with one arm across her waist, and as she struggled he reached around and under to embrace her around the middle. She pushed fitfully at him for a moment longer before sighing and leaning back, beaten. He smiled. “I win.”
“Yeah,” she said, and turned over in his arms so her back was facing him. “You win.” It came out pouty and childish, but for the moment she didn’t care. Why can’t he just let me sulk?
He shifted slightly, and then rested his chin on her shoulder. “You’re really off today,” he remarked. A hand snaked up to rest against her stomach – she caught it before it got any higher and held it, lacing their fingers together. “What’s gotten into you?”
“I don’t know.” She sighed and shook her head. “I just feel... weird. Like something’s going to happen and I need to stop it. Or maybe not stop it.” She turned her head to look up at him. He really did need a haircut. “Look, I’ve only got a lecture today – I can get the notes from one of the guys in class.” His brown eyes were skeptical. “Really! Plus, the teacher likes me. I’ll go to his office hours. Please?” A small part of her wondered why she needed his permission to skip class, but relented when Ayato shrugged and put on his I’m-Indifferent-on-the-Outside-but-Still-Concerned-on-the-Inside look. That was her third favorite Ayato look.
“Do what you want,” he said, and sat up again. She watched him stretch and yawn hugely before climbing out of bed and fishing around for a pair of pants. He stopped the alarm on his way past. “I’ve got a test today,” he remarked, and disappeared through the bedroom door. So I can’t skip with you, was the unsaid caveat. She heard his soft footfalls going down the stairs and the distant clink of mugs removed from cabinets.
She turned over in the bed and attempted to smooth the rumpled covers before burrowing in them, her head the only part left showing. Their bed was in front of a wide, tall window, and cool September air ruffled her hair as she watched the city awaken. She could see the skyline of downtown Boston in the distance; the bustle of morning Cambridge spread out before her. It’s so different from North Hackettsville, she couldn’t help thinking for what felt like the hundredth time since they’d come here. So many people, so much going on. This isn’t a place where people know who you are.
Maybe that’s what was making her uneasy. There I was Elise: smart kid, rich kid, kid who was going to go far. Here, I’m another face in the crowd. But, she knew, that was what she needed. North Hackettsville was a small town, growing smaller by the day – the figurative death of Trance Microelectronics and the subsequent reboot of the company in places far from the sleepy South Dakota town was draining it of what little income it had. Everyone was moving away, including her own parents. They were back in DC now, working for the government once again. Owen kept her informed of their comings and goings, though she’d only talked to her mother once since starting at Harvard. It wasn’t much different from before, really. That wasn’t what was bothering her.
North Hackettsville stifled her, she knew, and she needed to get out. There were too many memories there – good memories, wonderful memories, and some terrible ones, too – and if she was going to come to terms with everything that insisted on happening with or without her input, she needed a new place, a neutral place. Maybe this place will do.
Ayato appeared again, holding two mugs. He set them down on the windowsill and slid back into bed. “No thinking,” he said, and pushed one steaming mug toward her. “Drink.”
She obliged. It was some sort of green tea Ayato had found at one of the little Asian groceries scattered around the town. She blew gently and took a small sip; it was bitter and hot and earthy and refreshing at the same time, and smelled of leaves and nature. “It’s good,” she said. He glanced sidelong at her. She felt suddenly guilty. “Sorry.”
“What are you apologizing for?” Ayato took a long sip of his tea and watched a moving truck rumble by outside. “I’m not angry.” He was bristling, though, and maybe still worried underneath. He was probably right to worry, she realized. When have I ever wanted to skip class? She dropped her chin to the pillow and sighed.
“Stop,” he said, irritably, and removed the mug from her hands. She squeaked as he pulled her bodily to him, wrapping his arms around her. “If you’re going to skip class,” he said, “you’re not going to lie in bed all day doing nothing.”
“I won’t,” she protested; yet, she found herself relaxing against him. Maybe this is all I needed, she mused, just him and me and an hour until he’s got to leave. She smiled, just a little, and looked up at him. His eyes were heavy lidded and cat-like, and a rare smile was twitching at the corner of his mouth. That was her favorite Ayato look of all.
For a little while, at least, the apartment seemed a bit less empty.
**
He was in the shower. She sat downstairs in the combination living-and-dining-room, her feet on the shabby second-hand coffee table she insisted on buying because she liked the carved dragon feet (much to the affront of Ayato’s dignity, or so he kept insisting). She had her laptop open on her legs, checking her email. Invitation to a study group, sale at Crate & Barrel, spam, spam, half-price burgers at the Joshua Tree All Wednesday Every Wednesday; Ooh, something from Jamie!
She’d made an effort to keep in touch with everyone from back home (even though most of them were, like her, far from the Midwest) with nominal success. Jamie was in New York, going to college for journalism and politics; he was the only one she talked to regularly. She’d had emails from Jake and Aries, a few weeks ago – Bobby hadn’t replied to anything she’d sent him, and no one had heard a word (or, more accurately, a scream) from Screech since his parents moved away. She was contemplating a reply to Jamie when Ayato appeared, scrubbing his hair dry with a towel.
“Anything interesting?” he asked, sitting down next to her and leaning to look at the screen. She shrugged.
“Jamie’s doing good. He says he met someone, but won’t tell me who.”
Ayato rolled his eyes. “Probably some male model or something.” He tossed the towel toward their growing pile of laundry as she hid a smile. “Gotta head to class.” He stood again, yawned, and started shuffling through the pile of books sitting next to the couch; they were still waiting for the bookcases Elise promised them when they first moved in. She shut the computer in the meantime and slid it under the coffee table. “You should meet me for lunch,” Ayato continued, pulling a heavy programming textbook from the pile and searching for a notebook. “I get out at one.”
“Okay.” MIT wasn’t too far from the apartment – Elise was convinced he’d voted for this particular location just because of that. They’d walked to the campus during their first week in the city, so she knew the way. “I’ll meet you there, then.”
He shouldered on a jacket and tucked the books under his arm. “Don’t stay in bed until then,” he said, and kissed her before making his way out the door. Elise waited a full five minutes before running up the stairs and jumping under the covers, pulling them over her head.
Five minutes later, her phone rang. It was Ayato.
“Get out of bed,” he said, and hung up.
She sighed and waited another five minutes. Her phone rang again.
“Are you up?” It was Ayato again.
“Yes...” she said, as innocently as she could muster.
“You are not. Get out of bed.” This time, he stayed on the line until she’d dragged herself from the warm shelter of the sheets. “Go take a shower and get dressed. You’ll feel better.” Only then did he hang up again.
He’s still worried. That brought a little smile to her face as she pulled a towel from her closet and made her way to the shower. Annoying, but worried.
**
Since she was too sure of Ayato's psychic abilities when it came to her and the bed, she didn't retreat to her warm cave of blankets after emerging from the shower, feeling surprisingly refreshed. Instead she found a passable pair of jeans and a sweater and spent two hours attempting to beat some of the Japanese DS games Ayato had lying around. She couldn't read the characters (aside from a few that she'd learned from careful study and constant pestering), but she could at least puzzle out the story. Most of the story.
She was deeply engrossed in helping three middle-aged women save a pop star from a strange man dressed as a cow when her phone chimed. She glanced at the screen.
[Still up for lunch?] It was Ayato. She let the cow-man escape with the pop star.
[I’m on my way], she replied, and sat up. Her shoes were hidden under the couch; in a fit of guilt, she grabbed one of her textbooks and shoved it in her bag before heading out the door.
It was a chilly day, and looked like rain; she was glad for the sweater. She paused to check her hair in a passing window and frowned, running a hand through it. The weather was making it the slightest bit unmanageable, enough to make her wish she’d tied it up before leaving. It was also getting long. Maybe I need a haircut, too. Ayato liked her hair long, though, for whatever reason; he’d complain if she cut it more than a few inches. And that isn’t worth the effort.
MIT loomed suddenly as she came around the corner, rearing out of Kendall Square with purpose. She paused to glance up at the cement-and-metal buildings; they loomed over her, intimidating. She felt a chill run down her spine – something wasn’t right. She couldn’t place it, but it wasn’t right, not the shape of the buildings or the sudden sinister look to the dimly lit windows. It took a full minute before it made sense. It’s just like home, she realized. This could be Trance. She pushed that thought out of her mind before it could put down roots and searched for a place to wait.
There was a chest-high wall running along the front of the building, with a ledge at a good height for climbing; she perched there with only minimal difficulty and glanced around before digging out her textbook and opening it to the lecture material. The campus was quiet; most of the students were probably still in class, and she was over half an hour early to meet with Ayato. She still felt the unease hanging over her – it was like the moment before a storm hit, heavy with the weight of rain and thunder. She shivered a little and drew her legs up to tuck them under her, turning to the book again. Maybe I should have brought an umbrella.
The minutes passed quickly, and it was only the sound of doors opening and laughter that made her glance up. Slowly, the campus was filling with students on their way to and from classes, alone or in pairs and groups. Ayato was nowhere to be found, though, so she concentrated on the textbook again and told herself, He’ll find me quicker than I’ll find him. He would, she knew. He had a way of picking her out in a crowd.
Engrossed in the book, she heard only a hint of his voice as he approached, casual and laughing. Several other voices chattered around him, mostly male and mostly in Japanese. She glanced up as his shadow fell across the page. “You made it,” he said, and looked meaningfully at the open textbook in front of her. She felt herself redden.
“I felt bad for skipping,” she said, closing the book. He smirked and shook his head before turning back to his friends. Elise peered around him to get a better look.
There were half a dozen of them, all Asian and all but one male. They were mostly nondescript – some had glasses, most had backpacks, and one had bright red hair that was obviously dyed, professionally or not. The lone girl with them was pretty – actually beautiful, Elise thought – and she hung on every word Ayato said. She glanced down at her own faded jeans and worn sandals and felt suddenly and terribly plain.
“This is Elise,” Ayato said simply, gesturing to her with a hand. He looked toward her and rattled off a list of names; “This is Seiji, Shin, Eizo, Kenji, Ryou, and Kiyoko,” he continued, pointing out each individual in turn. They watched her with much curiosity, to her further embarrassment, as she realized how odd she must look with her blonde hair and blue eyes, the only one who didn’t speak their language.
Their conversation started up again as Ayato leaned back, elbows on her knees. She rested her own elbows on his shoulders and listened as best she could, fully aware that they were probably talking about her. The way they were glancing at her still was enough to tell her that much, particularly the girl – her eyes watched Elise closely, taking in the way Ayato leaned his head on her chest and looked up at her. She fidgeted a little under the gaze, stopping only when he looked up at her with a furrowed brow. “Sorry,” she whispered, blushing; he gave her a miniscule, hidden smile and stood.
He said something, glancing back toward her when he finished; she caught a few of the words but couldn’t make much sense of them, though she thought the part at the end might be something like, see you tomorrow or maybe later. Another of them remarked something, glancing at Elise, and the lone female giggled something else, making the rest of them snicker and glance at each other; the girl, Kiyoko, continued on and looked pointedly at Elise at the end of the sentence, earning more laughter. Great, they’re making fun of me, Elise thought, her face burning. Today just isn’t my day...
Ayato stood up and looked toward Kiyoko; he said a curt phrase, short and apparently to the point, and they fell silent suddenly and completely. Elise, confused, glanced between the group of them, watching their reactions. The girl in particular seemed the most rebuffed – her face was red and her eyes absolutely not meeting Elise’s, no matter how hard she tried to catch them. She muttered to herself and made a quick exit, the rest of the boys following after her with a few calls back in their direction. Ayato watched them go, and then looked toward Elise.
“What’d they say?” she asked as soon as they were out of earshot. To her chagrin, he shrugged and pulled her down off the wall by her waist, so they could walk together.
“Nothing.”
She fell into step beside him and nudged him, both hands clasped in front of her, keeping a smile on her face despite the curiosity bubbling up inside. “I know they said something! Was it about me?” His face twitched.
“It’s nothing important,” he said. She glanced at him, watching the set of his jaw and the way his knuckles were tense on his books.
“It was something,” she said, and pointed out, “because you’re upset.”
“I’m not upset,” he snapped. Her glance to him made him pause, grimacing. “The test was harder than I thought, and I was running low on patience with them, anyway. Especially Kiyoko.” Kiyoko must be the girl, she mused, and pondered this. He never gets like this. The only time was when... She spent a long moment looking up at his sullen face, until he stopped and looked down at her. “What?” he asked.
“Has she been hitting on you?”
“What?!” he sputtered, utterly shocked. She burst into laughter.
“She has been! I can tell! You were all flustered when you said her name!”
“I am not!”
“Are too!”
“Am not!” He crossed his arms over his chest and looked away; she smiled and tugged on one of his arms. “Stop! I’ll get you.”
His eyes were deadly serious. She took a chance. “Can’t catch me!” She was off running before he could grab for her, and she heard him yell something and take off after her. She grinned and ducked down a side street, paused for a second to let him catch up, and then took off again as his fingers grazed her back. She’d learned she was quicker than him pretty early on (after an incident involving her left sneaker and his DS held for hostage), and deep down she knew he actually liked chasing her. He was laughing as she dodged him and turned onto the main road once again. Good, she thought with a smile. We could both use some cheering up.
The campus was emptying again, so it wasn’t hard to avoid the two or three students still lingering on the quad. She glanced behind to see Ayato closing in, a smile spreading across his face. She was really going to get it. Two more blocks and I’ll let him catch me, she decided, and looked forward with just enough time to see a figure emerge quite suddenly from a side door and step out into her path.
She tried to stop, but it was too sudden, and she crashed into the figure with an “Oof!” and a thud. The binder he’d been holding dropped heavily on her head; she blinked, surprised and aching. “Owww...”
“Elise? Elise!” Ayato skidded to a halt seconds later as she sat rubbing her head and squinting up at the figure, outlined against the sun. He was tall and wide, muscled under his ratty sweatshirt, and he had a crop of thick brown hair. “Elise, are you alright?”
She looked toward Ayato, half-dazed, and nodded. “I, um, I...”
He cut her off. “Are you hurt?”
She winced as he touched the back of her head. “I’m probably going to have a bump...”
“Sorry,” the man in front of her grunted. She looked up at him. He seemed vaguely familiar, in a weird way.
“No, it was my fault,” she replied. He grunted again and leaned down to pick up the binder. Something glimmered on his right hand as he reached for it. It was a ring. She knew that ring. She’d seen it every day for close to two years. He’d called it a promise ring, even got down on one knee to give it to her, and she’d laughed and kissed him and put it on and promised to never take it off, and she hadn’t, not until that day in the lab and in that place, with the light swirling around them and less than a minute to bring her back with them, away from that wonderful-terrible place. He was there, too, and he and the ghost of a year before had stared hard at each other before she’d walked up to him and pulled the North Hackettsville Class of ‘07 ring from her finger and returned it to its rightful owner.
“Oh, god,” she whispered as his face, shaggy with a half-grown beard and dark circles under the eyes, came into view. “Riley?“
Riley’s eyes snapped to her, and he staggered back like he’d been hit. “What are you doing here?” he asked, the words half wonderment and half accusation. “You shouldn’t be here!”
That’s right, she thought, still dazed from the knock to her head. Ayato had a look on his face, the kind of look that meant he didn’t like what was going on; he got her to her feet and pulled her close to him. He goes to school here, at this school. He’s a programmer. He’s studying almost the same thing as Ayato is. “We go to school here,” she said faintly, still staring at him. His cheeks were thin, his skin pale, his eyes dull. He looked like a ghost. No wonder I didn’t recognize him. “You... You look different.”
He grunted again, looking her up and down. The pain was starting to dull in her head, and she stood up a little straighter. “I’m sorry for, um, this,” she said. Riley continued to watch her, one hand fiddling with his binder. It was worn and used to be white; there were papers shoved haphazardly in the pockets, still in place despite its recent tumble. She felt like she was on trial. “I, um... H-how are you?”
He frowned. “How am I? How am I?” His frown suddenly disappeared, replaced by a manic grin. Ayato’s arm tightened around her, and she felt him tense. “I’m fine, little Elsie, I’m perfectly fine!” He gestured widely with his arms, taking in the whole campus before them. “I mean, maybe I’m a little upset, seeing as I found out not four months ago that my girlfriend is stuck in a video game made by an evil megacorporation and, oh yeah, she picked my dead best friend over me.“
Fear gripped her like a vise, harder than Ayato’s fingers digging into her shoulder. This was not the Riley she’d known for four years of her adolescence. That Riley was cheerful and flippant, friend to everyone and defender of the weak. He’d called her “Elsie,” had a bad habit of patting her on the head and messing up her hair, and looked at her with something like brotherly affection.
The look in this Riley’s eyes scared her bone deep. This wasn’t right, not at all. He took a step forward, threatening and huge. Oh, Kenz, what did you ever see in him?
The memory of her best friend laughed. Come on, you know me! He was cute and smart and quarterback of the football team! In our little perfect town, that meant he was made for me.
Is that it? Ayato pushed her behind him as Riley took another step forward, a hand out to grab Elise by the arm.
He was fun. Besides, I did care about him. I still do, in a way.
“Back off,” her boyfriend said. Riley paused, shifting his eyes to Ayato. His manic grin was gone.
“What did you say?” he asked in a low, dangerous voice. There was at least four inches in height difference between them, and probably more. Besides that, Riley hadn’t lost any of his football muscle in the interim; Ayato certainly didn’t measure up to the six-foot-two former quarterback, especially when it came to sheer muscle mass. If it came to blows between them, there could only be one outcome.
Look at that, the Mackenzie in her head mused, strangely calm. He’s defending your honor, Elise. What a guy.
I don’t want that! Elise felt like screaming when Ayato fixed a hard stare right at Riley, his jaw set.
“I said, back off.”
Riley stared for a long minute, before reaching out and grabbing Ayato by the front of his shirt, lifting him with so little effort Elise was suddenly reminded of an animal swatting at a fly. Oh, god, what do I do?
You better do something quick, or this could end badly. Mackenzie’s voice was no longer calm or bored – it sounded more like the Kenz she knew and loved, the one that would cheer her up with a smile and a joke or something else silly and stupid and youthful. Come on, Elise, you’re supposed to be the smart one!
I’m not smart! I’m stupid and shy and weak and I can’t do anything to stop this! Ayato’s feet barely touched the ground; Elise could see a little bit of fear in his eyes before he glanced back at her, frozen in shock and indecision.
“Get out of here!” he said, voice strained. “Elise, go!”
He really cares for you, Kenz said, almost wistful. You know, I didn’t think he really did at first, being the kind of guy he is. I thought maybe he was just bored and wanted something to do besides play Pokemon for days on end. But if he’s willing to get beaten into the ground by my ex-boyfriend-turned-psychotic-shut-in just to make sure you get away safe, that’s something. That’s really something. You’ve got to keep him, Elise.
Gah, shut up! Elise was rooted to the spot, and she couldn’t hear what Riley and Ayato were yelling at each other, her head so full of the past as it was. You’re not supposed to muse on the relationship between me and—
He’s a little skinny for my taste, but he’s got courage, I’ve got to give him that. Reminds me of how Zero kept coming to my rescue every time I got in trouble. It’s too bad that always ended up with him in pieces.
PIECES?! Elise felt fingernails dig into her palms, only vaguely aware that they were her own. Oh god I have to stop this oh god oh please oh stop stop stop—
Elise, sweetie, calm down. Kenz’s voice was right in her ear. Take a deep breath. What do you need to do?
Riley lifted Ayato higher. Everything seemed to be in slow motion except her racing heart. I need to stop them.
Okay. How do you do that?
I... Images ran through her head, watching Kenz break up fights between their friends, stop Ryan from picking on Bobby, push a vindictive cheerleader away during the Great Elise-and-Ryan Dating Fiasco. It was so easy for her, so effortless.
That’s right. You can do it too, Elise. You’re stronger than you think.
I’m... I’m stronger than I think. The words were like a mantra, sinking into her mind and making everything fit into place. I’m stronger than I think. Her bag fell from her shoulder to her hand, became a weapon. I’m stronger than I think. She set her jaw and dashed forward with more speed than she knew she had, heading straight for Riley. I’m stronger than I think.
Riley didn’t have time to react – she was apart from this place, existing in a plane divorced of the regular flow of time. She saw his eyes, though, confused and surprised as her bag, heavy with books and electronics, connected squarely with the small of his back, throwing him off balance. He released Ayato with a grunt and stumbled back; Ayato fell to the ground hard, coughing, thankfully still in one piece. Planting herself between the two fallen men and facing Riley, the bag swung threateningly in her hand. “You stay away from him,” she growled.
Riley’s eyes widened as he stared up at her, silhouetted against the sun. His voice was choked with awe and emotion when he finally spoke. “Mac?”
There was a sharp pain in her chest. “No,” she said, softer and with more feeling than she wanted. “No, Riley, she’s not here. She’s not coming back.” The memory of hours of tears, both alone and with the others and in Ayato’s arms threatened to overwhelm her. She turned away before he could see her eyes mist over, steeling herself. Strong, Elise. You’re strong. “I think you should go.”
She heard him get to his feet and collect his things, and didn’t turn around, staring straight ahead. She wanted to run to Ayato, just now sitting up and wincing at his torn palms where the fall had pocked them with gravel, but she told herself to wait.
It was a long moment before he came into view out of the corner of her eye. He paused to regard her, his eyes both curious and sinister. “She’s not here, huh?” he said, and leaned in, breath tickling her cheek. “You’re right about that part. But I’m going to get her back.” She turned her head to look at him, willing herself not to break the stare. His eyes glimmered, but his gaze was momentarily far away, in another world. “You’ll see. I’ll get her back.”
Then he was gone, striding away, pushing through the few bystanders that had stopped to see the outcome of the fracas. Elise couldn’t help watching him until he was out of sight. Oh, Riley, what happened to you? She wasn’t sure if that was her own thought, or someone else’s.
At her feet, Ayato coughed. “That,” he said, looking up at her with a weak smile, “was the sexiest thing you’ve ever done.”
“Oh, Ayato!” She dropped to her knees and hugged him fiercely, loosening her grip only when his protests of pain rose to piercing levels. “Don’t you ever try to do that again! He’s half a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier than you!”
“Only four inches,” he said. “He does pack a punch, though.” He hissed in pain as she pulled him to his feet and began to examine his hands. “Hey, watch it!”
“You be quiet,” she said, fiercely, looking up at him. He didn’t look much the worse for wear, aside from a rumpled collar and some hair out of place. “You got into this because of me, and so I’m going to take care of you and make everything better!” Tears pricked behind her eyes; all the adrenaline was draining from her, used up in one fell swoop, and she felt like bursting into stressed-out, over-tired tears in hopes it would all go away.
His face softened just a little, and when she felt a tear run down her cheek, he hugged her very carefully. “Suika, I hate it when you cry.”
“I’m not crying!” She felt suddenly indignant and scrubbed at her face, which she knew was his intent. That only served to make her more indignant. “And don’t call me ‘watermelon!’”
“What should I call you then?” He was smirking again, faintly. She felt her cheeks flush, and turned away to pick up their now-scattered books. “Ichigo? Kabocha? A-ka-na-su?” He enunciated every syllable of the last word with perfect diction.
“I am not a Chinese scarlet eggplant!” But the teasing had served its purpose, and before she’d reached the last book, she was laughing along with him. It was nice – cathartic, even – and she felt lighter and less lonely despite the bone-deep exhaustion flooding through her.
“Feel better?” Ayato was smiling, actually smiling, as he shouldered his bag with a wince. She nodded.
“Better,” she said, and reached for the last of their books.
As she lifted it, a piece of paper fluttered from the cover to the ground, stirred up by the breeze. There was tiny, crabbed writing scribbled all over the surface, with diagrams and drawings squeezed in. It wasn’t her handwriting, or Ayato’s perfect print, either. Curious, she reached for it and scanned the text.
–neutrino oscillation predates particle acceleration–
–injection coil at six-point-five-eight-nine meters–
–reaction time based on previous circumfrence–
–experiment RF ion reaction positive–
–sine squared twenty phi equals less than zero-point-zero-three-two at ninety-five percent–
The rest of the page was taken up by a diagram of a long, circular tube, calculations mixed in. Her eyes swept over it, calculating and deciphering as she went, and she realized what it was.
“Is that was I think it is?” said Ayato, over her shoulder. He leaned closer to read the small writing. “‘Neutrino oscillation?’”
“It’s a quantum mechanics reaction by which one particle can be later measured to be another equal particle,” she said, frowning. “That’s particle physics. This is a diagram for a...”
“Whoa.” He leaned in further. “Wait, is that...?”
She followed his eyes down the page to a word circled several times. “‘Pixel particle?’” she whispered, the blood pounding in her ears. Neutrino oscillation posits that the neutrino is its own antiparticle in addition to being another particle. With this reaction and these plans...
I’ll get her back, he said, eyes distant and dark.
“Riley, what are you doing?” she whispered, more to herself. Ayato glanced at her, confusion evident. She looked up at him; their eyes met for a long moment, silent. Elise was the first to move. “Come on,” she said. “We need to go home.”
“What about lunch?” Ayato found himself dragged forcibly along the street as Elise marched with purpose toward their apartment.
“I’ll make you a sandwich,” she said, and looked back at him. Her eyes were determined, a fitting look on her. “But first,” she said, holding onto to Ayato’s hand so tightly she was sure it hurt, “we’re going to figure out what Riley’s doing with plans for a supercollider.”
**
Did you like it?
Some notes:
What the hell is neutrino osscilation?!: All the science stuff is real-world applications of particle physics! Expect some more technobabble when Elise (and I) actually does the research!
What did he just call her?!: Ayato's pet names for Elise range from the cute to the ridiculous, and they're all fruits or vegetables.
suika: as Elise exclaims, this means "watermelon."
ichigo: no, not the Bleach character -- this means "strawberry."
kabocha: this means "pumpkin" or "squash."
akanasu: as Elise also exclaims, this actually does mean "Chinese scarlet eggplant." They're apparently similar to tomatoes, though very bitter.
"Tomato" is a loan word in Japanese, so I couldn't use the best vegetable nickname of them all. Stupid Japan. Ayato has to be creative because of you.
**
Omake
This was originally going to be tacked on in the end, but I thought it was too ridiculous for the serious ending I wanted. So, here's a silly bonus scene!
“Can I at least get a band-aid first?”
Elise paused. “First we get you a band-aid,” she amended, “then—”
“Then, a sandwich.”
Elise sighed. “First, the band-aid. Then, the sandwich. Then—”
“The sex.” She stopped fully this time to look at him. “I did just defend your honor, you know.”
“It’s only two in the afternoon!”
“I did a lot of defending! I have battle wounds!”
“We don’t have time for this!” She furrowed her brow at him. “One of our friends is making plans to smash atoms together at high speeds! He might be building a nuclear bomb! And you’re concerned with victory sex!?”
“I have my priorities straight.” He shrugged. “If he’s only got the plans, then he doesn’t have it built. And that means we’ve got some time. Besides: there’s always time for sex.”
“Fine!” She threw her arms up in the air in frustration. “We research tomorrow then!”
“Good.” He took her hand and pulled her onward. She frowned at him.
“You’re just trying to reassert your masculinity,” she said pointedly. He raised an eyebrow at her.
“I am not. I don’t need to.”
“Yes, you do! I just saved you from getting your face pounded into the pavement!”
“I had everything under control!”
“Oh, right.” She rolled her eyes at him. “Sure you did. How do you say ‘caveman’ in Japanese? That’s your new name. Caveman-san.”
“Sure, suika.“
“Don’t call me watermelon!”
