Naomi - 

“...it's about time!” I shout, sensing Yuki nearing us. I feel uncertainty in her as she surveys the scene, no doubt having a look of confusion on her face.

“How in the world did you two find each other?” Yuki asks, and I feel Will shrug, his shoulders still rubbing against mine in such a close proximity.

“I mean, it really is about time you got here. You can finally meet your replacement, I don’t need you anymore loser.” Will teases, and I smile to myself as I see both of their auras change to a lighter colour. They were unknowingly cheering each other up.

“You may never replace me! But uh, seriously.. What happened with you and Monique? Did Nan tell you what she did to her?” Yuki asks, battering Will with questions. I feel him stiffen up, and Yuki seems to hesitate in her words.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-” She begins, but will cuts her off dramatically.

“No no, I see how it is. I care and love for you, and return my loyalty with questioning me? I should have left you on that street corners all those years ago!” They both chuckle at his comment, before a small silence settles.

“I’ll uh, email you the deets, Dear Connor Murphy style. Deal?” He mumbles, and I assume Yuki nodded in response, because lets out a large relieving sigh.

“Wait, Yuki. Did you just call me Nan? Like the indian bread?” I ponder, only just now realizing what she had asked me.

“It's cause you’re a snack.” WIll interjects, and I smile.

I stand up stretching, before leaning to hug Yuki, who had been standing right in front of us for quite some time.

“Thank you for worrying about me and looking for me. I’m really thankful.” I murmur, and feel a warm feeling dawn on me. Gross. Yuki warms up as well, and I can feel an odd emotion wafting off of her. I pull away, nervous. I hope she knew what my intents were…

~

“So uh, that’s what happened?” My mother asks, before turning sharply and scaring the living death out of me. Even though I would literally die while riding a bus, I’d prefer that then my mother picking me up. I nod in response to her question, and she sighs.

“High school kids are wack man.” She mumbles to herself, and I roll my eyes.

“But what about all the times you-” My mother shushes me, and I giggle to myself. I loved my mother, but when she was a teenager… she gave her moms a hard time. A very hard time.

“Wowza.” She mumbles to herself, still digesting the day I had. Clearly putting her doctor’s degree to use in her vocabulary, I see.

“Wowza indeed.” I reply, and brace myself as my mother takes a very sharp turn, the cabin shifting slightly.

“We have to pick up your sis- Maya.” My mother stumbles, scared that saying sister might jinx the situation. She was way too superstitious about some things.

Maya wasn’t related to us- none of us were related to each other biologically- but my mother was waiting any day for those papers to certify us as Maya’s official legal family.

My oldest -and technically only- brother, Carter, was put up for adoption because his ‘birth givers’ (as my mother likes to refer to them) were far too young to maintain raising children.

My birth givers’ weren’t exactly as wholesome. An old man and an unwilling highschool girl with a conservative family. It doesn’t bug me that I wasn’t planned. It bothers me that my fraternal birth giver was a disgusting human being. They were married, and the girl (it feels too desensitized to call her mother) wasn’t allowed to abort. She ended up killing herself with pills, the chemicals so strong they affected me.

They say it was a miracle I was alive when they birthed my post-mortem. But that miracle really did come with a price.

It wasn’t until after I had lost my vision did my doctors realize that the chemicals had affected me so strongly. And I still have no idea how serious the effects might be.

But my story was no more gruesome than Maya’s…

“So is she cute?” My mother asks, her sharp fingernails making clicks against the car, lulling me out of my thoughts.

“I beg your pardon?” I ask, a bit dazed to be pulled out of my rabbit hole of thoughts so quickly.

“What’s her aura like? Yumi, I mean.” She repeats, and the thought of her makes me feel warm.

“It's Yuki. And I guess her aura is kinda… soft yet strong. But there seems to be something else. Sort of like the same small feeling from Maya’s aura. I think they might have similar-ish stories.” I explain, not even knowing these were my true thoughts until after they come out of my mouth, I quickly add, “But yes, she’s cute.” Before Maya scrambles into the car, as to not hold up the pick up line.

“Who’s cute?” Maya asks, her opalescent aura shining brightly from a happy day of play. This was how her aura was supposed to always be. A kid’s aura. I sigh sullenly before responding,

“Only the cutest little foster sister in the world.” I reach behind me to nudge her, and she giggles in response. Maya reaches over and flicks the back of my neck, right onto my mark. I grumble and rub it, two eighth notes tied in a dark purple hue.

“I’ll get you back.” I promise, before shifting my thoughts to my mark.

I had only seen it a few times, and the memories were blurred from the unrelentless punishment of time, but I still held onto the few memories I had left, hoping I’d find my other piece or pieces.

Cliche, I know. But even hopeless has the word hope in it.