Thicker Than Blood

Three Months Later:

Brianna raced
across the street towards Omi’s school. Students
were streaming out of the building, but she didn’t bother scanning the crowd.
His motorcycle was parked practically in front of the gate, and she waited
there, hardly able to sit still.

A few boys
who looked to be Omi’s age came up to her, trying to chat her up.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> She just smiled. “I’m waiting for someone. Sorry.”
The boys left, but waited nearby, wanting to see who she was waiting
for.

When he finally
appeared out of the crowd, she flung herself at him, laughing with delight.
“I got it!”

“Got what?”
Omi’s open smile was even bigger than usual, and he tried to get Brianna
to stand still, his hands firmly holding her waist.

“They chose
my collection for the gallery showing! I’m
in! I’m doing a show!”style="mso-spacerun: yes"> She was nearly crying with happiness, and she
kissed his cheek, hugging him again.

“That’s terrific!
We have to call the others!” The
younger boy danced with her on the sidewalk, their exuberance drawing stares
from other students.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Brianna finally stood still and checked her
watch.

“Oh no!
We have to hurry!style="mso-spacerun: yes"> I’m supposed to be making dinner!”style="mso-spacerun: yes"> She threw a leg over the bike, ignoring the
fact that she was wearing a short skirt, and Omi slid on in front of her, starting
the engine.

“We’ll make
it. And with news this big, no one will
care if dinner is late.” He gunned the
engine, peeling into traffic as Brianna’s laugh followed.

Brianna couldn’t
stop smiling as people walked through the opening of her first art show.
Aya and Yohji were by her side, their hands interlaced at the small of
her back. They were wearing tuxedos, though it had been a fight to get Aya
into the vest instead of the cummerbund he’d assumed he’d wear.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> The artist had finally had to explain to him
that he had no fashion sense, and he should, frighteningly enough, listen to
Yohji. Her smile softened as she looked
up at the two men, but she looked away, scanning the crowd for Omi and Ken.

Ken stood
on the other side of the room with his cousin Kat, while Omi was chatting with
some of the flower shop’s regular customers by the refreshments.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Many of the paintings already had ‘sold’ stickers
on their frames.

“You’ve done
it, baby.” Yohji toasted her with his
glass of champagne.

“Congratulations,
Brianna-chan.” Aya’s smile warmed his
eyes, and the young woman sighed happily.

“It’s all
thanks to you four. You gave me my life
back, gave me a safe harbour.” She set
her own champagne flute down. “And you’re
going to make me a small fortune.”

The three
of them laughed. Most of the paintings
and sketches that Brianna had on display were of the four assassins – or their
archenemies. Yohji’s ‘boyfriend’ Schuldich
had shown up in the flower shop one afternoon, and after a long chat with Brianna,
agreed to pose – and bring his lover Nagi along.

“At least
we know that you’ll never leave us.” Ken
grinned at her as he and Kat joined the group.

“You wouldn’t
have any fresh material!” Omi laughed
as he slid into the circle. “Besides,
you’d forget to eat without us to cook for you.”

“Men who cook
– how’d you ever manage to keep them, Brianna-san?”style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Kat laughed, and the artist shrugged.

“Clean living,
I suppose.” She grinned wickedly at
the dark-haired girl she’d become friends with, and spoke English.
“Though I’ve heard that you aren’t doing so terribly yourself.”

Kat blushed,
and responded in the same language. “Maybe.
Just maybe.”style="mso-spacerun: yes"> She winked.
“We’ll have to wait and see.”

“Japanese,
ladies, Japanese!” Yohji poked Brianna
in the shoulder as Ken shoved Kat a little.
“It’s not fair to us gorgeous men that you can say things about us right
in front of us without us knowing.”

“If you’d
just learn English, you wouldn’t have this problem.” Omi stuck his tongue out at the older man.

“I don’t need
to learn English. Everyone who comes
here from America seems to already know Japanese.”

“I don’t care
if she wants to talk about me in front of me. As long as she never leaves.” Aya
hugged the girl, careful not to muss her hair.style="mso-spacerun: yes"> He’d already been yelled at twice for not remember
how delicate the intricate upsweep was.

As the conversation
descended into bickering, Brianna looked around her at the family that she’d
found, and felt, not for the first time since she’d met them, totally at home.
She smiled, and spoke softly to herself.
“Sometimes you find something thicker than blood….”