Fitting Back Together

Privilege

Six long minutes later, Tomi waltzed his way into the kitchen, hair slightly more mussed than before - and a suspicious-looking mark on his forehead.

If you get a concussion, I swear to God. . .

Pushing down the very real urge to strangle her brother, Yumiko raised a brow. "All good?"

He smiled with the kind of brainless arrogance only alcohol could provide. "All good."

"You've got a red mark on your face."

A hand flew to his forehead, a momentary frown darkening his features, before he shrugged. "The shirt got a bit testy. Not to worry. I put it in its place."

"By slamming your face against the floor?"

"The wall, actually. And I'll have you know I was victorious."

God help me.

"Oh really?"

Tomi splayed his arms wide so she could better see his attire. "I'm changed, aren't I?"

"Your shirt's on back to front."

Brow furrowing, he glanced down. "So it is."

Rolling her eyes, Yumiko stepped forward. "Hold up your arms."

"Really, Miko, we've talked about this-"

"I'm not going to look." Had no desire at all to see her brother's hairy chest and add it to the smorgasbord of haunting images she'd collected over the last decade. "But I'd really like to get out of here before dawn."

"Hot date to get to? Perhaps with a certain knife-wielding terror we all know and love - or, more accurately, fear?"

She didn't dignify that with a response.

"Hold up your arms."

Grumbling, Tomi obeyed. "Only because I love you."

That drew a smile from her, albeit only slight, and she reached for the hem of his shirt. Swiftly, Yumiko drew it up and over his head, pointedly keeping her eyes locked with his all the while.

In a few short moments, she had it switched the right way around, and settled back into place. "See? That wasn't so bad was it?"

Tomi pursed his lips. "You're a little rough."

Shaking her head, Yumiko walked over to the counter, collecting the glass of water she'd already prepared. "A thankyou would suffice."

"Thankyou, oh dearest sister of mine. How ever would I manage without your constant interference?"

"Good question."

She truly wondered sometimes. It was a miracle he'd made it ten years - let alone an entire apocalypse.

"Here." Yumiko passed him the glass - half full, to prevent any clumsy spillages. "Drink."

"I see your level of bossiness hasn't wavered over the last decade." Tomi grunted, accepting the water. "Can't say I missed it."

"Alcohol is dehydrating. As a doctor, I think you'd know that."

"Oh, I do." He languidly took a sip. "Doesn't make it any less bossy, though. Maybe you should consider having children. Just think of it: some little beings whose lives you could constantly micromanage and interfere with on a twenty-four seven basis. You'd be in heaven."

Yumiko kicked his foot. "You think I like bossing people around? It's the fastest way to get a migraine - you're all exhausting."

So bloody exhausting.