Chapter Two

Kiki reached out and took the hand that was offered.

As she moved forward, Jiji shrank back, clambering up her shoulder and crouching at the nape of her neck, where he was half-hidden by her hair. He still didn't trust anyone who could own such a ferocious beast, whether he had been saved by him or no.

Kiki, however, had no such reservations. Strangely, she wasn't half as nervous as she normally would be in front of a stranger; she just couldn't be around this boy, with his warm smile and polite manners, who chuckled in amusement as Jiji peered fearfully out at him from behind her ribbon. She couldn't help but somehow feel at ease in his presence. There was some air of proficiency about him, a quiet confidence, that she couldn't place. Perhaps it was the way he had put an end to the chaos so quickly and so simply; that alone had done much to impress her. Besides, she could forgive him for owning a dog, based on the way he had handled Jiji. If her friendships with Osono, Fukuo and Ursula had taught her anything, it was that the most trustworthy people tended to like cats.

His grip as he shook her hand was strong, which surprised her a little. She hadn't expected it to look at him, in his clean white shirt-collar, natty blue sweater and neatly-pressed plus-fours. He looked like some kind of junior professional - an efficient office clerk or dedicated desk-worker, perhaps. Yet she could feel a line of old calluses running across his palm, and his knuckles bore faint scars along their ridge. This in itself wasn't unusual - she knew that her own hands were a bit rough from where she gripped her broom, and Tombo's were in a similar state, courtesy of all the tools he used in his inventing. Even if this was the same as his brother, she rather doubted such things were hereditary.

"It's nice to meet you... erm, Tintin," she said, faltering a little. Though she outwardly kept her composure, she was hiding her surprise with an effort - she'd had no idea that Tombo even had an older brother!

Noticing her slight slip-up, the boys exchanged meaningful glances.

"I do believe she is laughing at your name, brother," Tombo said, with a gleeful smirk.

Tintin looked slightly affronted. He affected a long-suffering pose, though the exaggeration in the downturn of his lips and the overly-dignified tilt of his head told her that it was only mock. "You would maintain that my name is somehow funny, brother," he told Tombo, in what was meant to be an injured tone. "I really don't think it's that strange at all - is it?" He addressed this last question to Kiki, his expression hopeful.

Realizing that both boys were looking at her attentively, waiting on her answer, Kiki felt her face flush. "N-no, I mean... that wasn't... I never said that-"

"It's alright," Tintin said, reassuringly. "I promise I won't take offence if you really do think it's funny." Though he kept a straight face, he very obviously had his fingers crossed behind his back. Kiki cracked a smile.

"Well," she said, emboldened by his joking manner, "it's really not any stranger than 'Tombo'..."

She half-regretted it as soon as she said it. While it was now Tombo's turn to pout, Tintin doubled up in delighted laughter.

"Some friend," Tombo muttered, though he winked at Kiki to show her that he really didn't mean it.

"She should join one of the embassies in Brussels," Tintin declared, straightening gradually, recovering from his fit of mirth with an effort. "She's at least equally diplomatic with her insults!"

"I didn't mean it as an insult," Kiki said, colouring slightly again. "I just... they're uncommon names, but that certainly isn't a bad thing..."

"Quite right." Tintin regarded her thoughtfully. "In actual fact, our names both have rather interesting stories behind them. Did you tell her about that, Tombo?"

"I don't think so," Tombo said, turning to Kiki with a look of askance. "Did I?"

"No," Kiki replied, wondering all the while. "I don't think you even told me that you have a brother..."

"And here, I thought my name was universally famous," Tintin said, with a roll of his eyes.

"You wish," Tombo sniped at him, enjoying the chance for retaliation.

"Hardly. You see," Tintin began, explaining for Kiki's benefit, "our family has a rather strange tradition. All of us have always loved to roam the world, one way or another. Well, our parents are the exception, I guess - watchmakers don't tend to travel. I suppose they would have to reset too many clocks between every time zone!" All three of them laughed at that. Looking gratified, Tintin went on, settling into his tale. "Otherwise, all our relatives are avid wanderers. My brother here is a prime example - even though he's still so young, he can barely keep his feet on the ground!"

"I'm not so young," Tombo objected, as Tintin clapped him on the shoulder, in what he deemed to be a very condescending manner. "I'm only four years younger than you!"

"And look how many more flying machines you've built than me," Tintin pointed out, consolingly. "Anyway, it is the custom in our family that when a child is born, all our wayward relations will race back to visit, and the first to arrive will have the baby named after them. That's how it's always been, going back many generations, on our father's side - and we are no exceptions. When I was born, the first two relatives to arrive were our twin uncles, Augustin and Valentin."

"We call them the 'Tin-tins'," Tombo interposed, with a grin. "You can see where he gets it from!"

"Yes," Tintin agreed. "And, I might add, those '-tins' are in no particular order. Both uncles arrived at the exact same time, even though one was coming from Burma, the other from Argentina. Father says they got stuck in the doorway, scrambling over each other in their desperate efforts to be first, and ended up tripping each other over the threshold."

They all laughed heartily at the mental image. Though Kiki had never met Augustin nor Valentin, she could well picture the two identical uncles sprawled out on the floor, each insisting that they had gotten there first.

"How did they decide which of them won?" she asked.

"They didn't," Tintin said, dryly. "They were so perfectly in-step, Father couldn't tell which of them was in front, so it was declared a tie - I needed a first- and second-name anyway, so it would have come from each of them regardless. But they never figured what order it should go in. Uncle Gus declared that the only fair way was to do it alphabetically; but Uncle Val insisted that since he was born a whole minute and twenty-eight seconds earlier, he should have preference as the eldest twin. They only stopped bickering when my parents shortened both names to 'Tintin' - and so I have been called ever since."

He grinned as he finished this pronouncement, watching Kiki as she giggled uncontrollably. She couldn't help it; it seemed so fantastical, even though he had told it with such conviction. She almost wondered whether he was pulling her leg. The fact that Tombo was also chuckling alongside her wasn't exactly helping to convince her.

"What about you?" she asked him, between gasps of laughter. "Who are you named after?"

"Our Uncle Tom, of course," he replied, puffing out his chest with pride. "who-"

"-cheated," Tintin interrupted, before he could go on.

"He did not cheat," Tombo retorted, looking indignant. "Uncle Tom was a pilot," he explained, with a return of his usual broad smile. Kiki recognized the same gleam in his eye that always appeared there, behind his spectacles, whenever he spoke about anything related to aircraft. "He was between flights when he stopped by for a visit. He was playing a game of cards with friends at his local pub, and ended up winning a hotel that one of them had wagered."

"He's never cut a deck since," Tintin said, conspiratively, in an aside to Kiki. "That's very suspicious, if you ask me."

"He claimed he had used up all the luck he would ever had on that one game, so there was no point ever trying to win at anything else. He decided to turn the place into an inn where sailors and pilots could stay during their stop-overs, catering specially to frequent travellers. He's done a good job of it, too; the inn's always had a roaring trade, ever since he first took it over. Anyway, he had just won ownership of it at cards, and he was coming over to tell my mother the good news, when he found out, to his surprise, that I had just been born."

"Our parents hadn't even announced it yet," put in Tintin, "so he had an unfair head start - besides being only one street away to begin with."

"It was only luck and chance," Tombo pointed out, "not cheating. It can hardly be called an advantage, since it wasn't intentional. It was just meant to be, I guess."

"If you say so." Tintin's smile suddenly took on a slightly sinister curve. "Tell her where you got your middle name from."

Tombo's face fell. He gazed at Kiki dejectedly, heaving a great sigh. "From Cousin Aurora," he said, with disappointment heavy in each syllable.

Tintin was chuckling so hard by now, there were tears in the corners of his eyes. "She married into the family," he explained to Kiki, who was trying unsuccessfully to smother her own laughter behind her hand. "Her father and our grandfather were Arctic explorers together. He named her after the Northern Lights, of all things."

Both of them were almost in hysterics by now; Tintin could hardly speak, and Kiki was clutching her aching sides, helpless to stop. Even Tombo, try as he might to keep his self-pitying expression firmly in place, couldn't entirely resist the curling edges of a grin that hovered about the corners of his mouth.

"She insisted that I take her name as my middle one," he went on, since Tintin was nearly incapable of talking anymore, "as she legitimately was the next to arrive. Our parents tried to explain to her that boys in the family were usually only named after male relatives, but she wouldn't take no for an answer."

"That's where you get your stubborn streak from," Tintin chortled. Tombo reached up and tried to flatten his quiff in protest, but wasn't quite tall enough; Tintin successfully held him off, knocking his glasses askew in the process.

"They eventually compromised," Tombo said, giving up and straightening his glasses, flashing Kiki a look of resignation as he did so. "Aurora was way too feminine-" he darted his brother a warning look when he seemed about to interrupt, forcing him into smirk-filled silence "-and 'Aurelius' was too hard to turn into a nickname. So they gave me 'Borealis' instead, shortening the whole thing to 'Tombo'. The rest, as they say, is history."

He gave a low, comical bow as he finished; on cue, both Kiki and Tintin applauded, all three of them still laughing heartily.

"Well, to be precise, the rest is our future," Tintin said, mastering himself enough to speak again. "Our family believes that each namesake decides both what we will be called, and where we will travel to during our lives. I've already been to Central Asia and South America, just like my uncles. Which means this fellow here is set to tour the world as a pilot," he added, swatting playfully at Tombo's shoulder.

"Beats heading to the Alps like Cousin Aurora," Tombo said, with a shudder. "The Arctic was too cold for her - thankful goodness! - but she fancies herself an opera singer. Every so often, she has to go find a mountain to climb up, so she can yodel atop it. There must be whole ranges full of deafened goats. Trust me to get the eccentric one in the family..."

"Hey, I got two for the price of one!" Tintin objected. "You know how Uncle Gus and Uncle Val carry on..."

"At least they don't inflict their singing upon the rest of us," Tombo argued.

Kiki watched them bicker away comfortably, fascinated by it. Up until a few moments ago, she hadn't even known that Tombo had a brother. Now, watching them interact with each other, it seemed so completely natural to see them side by side, joking about and ribbing at each other. It was as if the older brother had always been around, and she had only momentarily forgotten his existence.

"What about you, Kiki?" Tintin asked, now he was assured that he had ruffled Tombo's hair as thoroughly as was possibly; the other, still unable to reach his crown, settled for rumpling his opponent's jumper as much as he could during his efforts to hold him off. "Is there some significance behind your name?"

"Me? Um, not really," Kiki said, caught unawares by the question. However, she pondered for a moment. "At least... I never really thought about it, but... my parents are called Okino and Kokiri..."

"They both have a 'ki' in their names!" Tintin exclaimed, sounding triumphant. "See, it's not so strange to be named after two relatives at once, is it?"

"I guess not," Kiki admitted, with a grin. She inwardly resolved to ask her parents about it in her next letter home.

"That's not the only thing you two have in common," Tombo piped up, turning to his brother excitedly. "You should have seen her at the dirigible site, Tintin! It was amazing, the way she swooped in and grabbed me, just as I was starting to fall! More than worthy of one of your articles!"

"It seems I owe the fact that I still have a brother to you," Tintin said, putting a hand on Kiki's shoulder in a friendly gesture of thanks. Jiji, slightly emboldened, went so far as to sniff at his fingertips; he flinched when Tintin reached out to pet him, but allowed it, looking mildly surprised when nothing terrible came of it. "I would have written about it," Tintin went on, "if I had been here. The most exciting thing ever to happen in my hometown, and I was away in Scotland at the time!"

"Then again, I suppose foiling a counterfeiting operation must have been almost as thrilling," Tombo admitted, a little grudgingly.

"Certainly it was," Tintin affirmed. "I still have the bruises to prove it!"

Seeing Kiki's mystified look, Tombo quickly explained. "My brother works for a newspaper in Brussels, Le Petit Vingtième. They send him on all kinds of assignments that he is too young and unqualified for."

"I've done alright so far," Tintin retorted, a little huffily. "There was my exposé on Russian socialism; the drug-smuggling racket I uncovered in the Middle East; the political conspiracy I uprooted in China; not to mention the trifling gang of counterfeiters I brought to justice in Killtoch..."

"Wait..." Kiki said, realization slowly dawning on her. "You are... you're Le Vingt's foreign correspondent? All those stories from overseas... that was you?!"

"You have heard of me," Tintin said, mildly. He looked as if he met this kind of reaction all the time.

"I have," Kiki said, only just discovering the fact herself. "On the radio, I heard all about your adventures in the newsreels!"

She stared at him, amazed. So this was the famous junior adventurer who reported for Le Petit Vingtième! To think that he was Tombo's brother!... and he had done all those brave, grown-up feats, yet he was still a mere boy, not much older than herself and Tombo!...

"You should read the papers as well," Tintin assured her, with a smile. "I can write about it a whole lot better than they gab about it, I assure you. Nothing beats a first-person account."

"Just don't include photographs of those bruises," Tombo muttered, at his elbow. "I guarantee you won't sell half as many copies if you do!"

"You mean I've been gathering them all for nothing?" Tintin joked, though he grimaced. "My work leads me into some fairly dangerous situations," he admitted to Kiki. "I thought I was the only one out of us brothers who had to put up with such things. But as thanks for sparing him the trouble, he instead goes out and finds a dirigible to fall from!"

"It certainly wasn't intentional," Tombo muttered, a little testily. He crouched down, so that his face was almost level with that of the dog who lay at Tintin's feet, enjoying a patch of sun that had managed to filter through the tree's branches. "Unlike some people. I bet he drags you into all manner of trouble, doesn't he, Snowy?"

Kiki wasn't sure if Snowy understood or not. His only reply was to thump his tail from side to side, evidently enjoying the attention. Jiji, who had ventured out onto Kiki's shoulder, instantly scrambled back behind her hair again.

Tintin rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking a little sheepish. "I certainly don't mean to go running after trouble," he said. Snowy butted his head against his ankle, in what seemed to be a supportive gesture; he reached down and absently ruffled the dog's ears. "Trouble just has a way of following me around."

"I hope it didn't follow you here," Tombo retorted, "though I know a band of local boy-reporters who probably wish the opposite. Ever since your very first story came out, every news-cadet in town has been flocking to our house, pestering us for updates on your travels, hanging around in case a few stray stories wind up at our doorstep. I even saw a few comb their hair up to look like yours."

For the first time, Kiki saw Tintin actually seem discomforted; he patted his hair down self-consciously - it sprang back again as soon as he removed his hand - looking embarrassed. "I'm honoured," he said, with unmistakable modesty, "but that's taking things too far. I hardly deserve any kind of fan club."

"Well, you have one," Tombo told him, slapping him companionably on the back. "And they've insisted on throwing a party for you - at your own house! - to welcome you back, so you'd better thank them properly, even if you don't want it. And even though they make us do all the work," he added, looking meaningfully at Kiki.

"Oh! Yes, that's right-" It was only then that Kiki remembered that she was actually making a delivery. She hastily snatched up the brown paper bag, which she had set at the base of the tree while she tried to save Jiji from becoming a dog's chew toy. "I brought these over for you. Sorry, they're a bit squashed, I got caught in a gust of wind on my way over. If your guests are arriving soon, I can get out of your way-"

She reached for her broom, which she had leant against the trunk of the tree. Before she could grasp it, Tombo had taken the bag of pastries in one hand, plucking at her sleeve with the other. "Not so fast!" he said, with a laugh. "It's not just his party, you know! Actually, I had planned it for you - to properly thank you for saving me. This idiot and his groupies just turned up and high-jacked the occasion." He jerked a thumb at Tintin, who stood by watching with his hands in his pockets, not uttering any protests, though he wrinkled his nose at the word 'groupies'.

"For me?" Kiki repeated, in amazement. This was the last thing she had been expecting!

"Of course! You saved my life, after all! A party is the very least I can give you in return." His face suddenly wore a pleading expression; his eyes looked very large behind his spectacles. "Please say you'll stay for the party! You will, won't you? A lot of people you already know will be there, and so many more want the chance to meet you."

"Myself included," Tintin declared, raising his hand. "I've heard all about how you fly from Tombo, but I must admit, I almost don't believe it. I want an exclusive, one-on-one interview, containing your own detailed explanation, in order to prove that the whole rescue wasn't just some mass-hallucination."

"Of course it wasn't a hallucination," Tombo protested, shooting him a disapproving stare, "and you're not supposed to be bringing your work to the party."

Tintin shrugged. "It's my party as well, isn't it? I'll merely be showing the local boys how it's done. Besides," he added, in a far less flippant tone of voice, "it will save me from having to be the sole centre of attention. I'm always a bit shy at parties - especially ones held in my honour."

He smiled kindly at the witch. He had, she realized, dealt with a lot of people in his time, though he was still so young. He had somehow managed to read her, discerning all the secret fears she had about the impending fete. Either that, or Tombo had already told him all about it. This was likely, given the way that both brothers now wore near-identical, imploring smiles upon their faces, waiting for her reply.

"You don't have any more deliveries this afternoon, do you?" Tombo asked, in a tone which suggested it wasn't really a question. He knew that she always saved his until last.

She almost wanted to say 'yes', so that she could easily excuse herself. A party was bad enough in itself - a party thrown for her, with a famous boy-reporter attracting even more unknown guests, was downright terrifying!

Jiji nudged his nose against her ear, starting her out of her inner panic. He seemed to be just as impatient as the others, prompting her for an answer; though perhaps he simply wanted to get away from the dog as quickly as possible. Snowy, meanwhile, had his head cocked to one side. He sat up with one paw raised, looking just as pitiably pleading as his owner, though Tombo gave them both a run for their money. The wistful look on his face was enough to tug on even the most unfeeling of heartstrings. In front of those three faces, what else could she say?

"No, I don't," she said at last, "so I guess I'll be able to stay. Thank you very much for inviting me."

Tombo and Tintin both looked relieved; the elated smiles they gave her almost made it worth the prospect of having to talk to strangers. Even the dog wagged his tail in celebration, barking merrily. The only other reluctant one was Jiji, who clung to her shoulder as if to keep himself from drowning, pressed flat against her back until he seemed to blend into the black fabric of her dress.

"That little one is welcome too," Tintin said, noticing how the cat's fur still bristled on end, "if he's brave enough to stay. I solemnly promise that I won't let this fierce hound eat him." He shot the dog a warning look; Snowy's ears drooped in a show of deference, as if he were likewise pledging to be good.

"Jiji, did you call him?" Tintin asked, carefully patting the cat's head again.

"Yes," Kiki replied, giving the cat an encouraging look as he let Tintin stroke him; he seemed slightly more willing to tolerate it, now that it had been done several times without consequence. "I can't remember how we chose it," she added, since they had been talking about names so much earlier. "I guess he was meant to be like a sibling to me, and it was only one letter up from my own name." Jiji nestled against her cheek affectionately; she shifted him a little higher up on her arm, wordlessly promising to keep him out of harm's way. "What about Snowy?" she asked Tintin, smiling down at the little dog; despite the earlier kerfuffle, he wagged his tail endearingly up at her. "Is there a story behind his name?"

"No, I'm afraid not." Tintin patted the dog companionably on its side, making its thick white fur flatten and spring back beneath his hand. "It just seemed to suit him, really."

"You could have been a bit more imaginative," Tombo said snidely, taking the bag of pastries from Kiki with a slight inclination of his head, motioning her towards the house.

"I suppose you would have called him 'Blackie'," Tintin retorted, making Snowy snuff in disgust, unamused by the way they were making fun of his name.

Like Tombo, the journalist offered to carry something for Kiki; he picked up the broom, looking at it curiously. He appeared to be trying to figure it out, looking for something remarkable about it, though to all appearances it was just an ordinary broom. "Do you really fly on this thing?" he asked, incredulously.

"Does she ever!" Tombo replied on Kiki's behalf, eying the broom almost reverently. "That's the broom she saved me on, so don't you dare drop it!"

Hefting it now with something akin to consternation, Tintin crossed the yard with it. He quickly hoisted it a little higher as Snowy cavorted round his feet, wondering if it were perhaps some new model of stick that his master might throw for him.

"No, Snowy, leave it! I must say, flying or not, it's a very nice broom. Did you make it yourself?"

"N-no," Kiki replied, wondering how best to explain the broom's complicated history, "though I have made my own before. That broom is actually on loan-"

Walking in-step together - Kiki in the centre, the brothers on either side of her, Snowy darting back and forth in figure-eights around their ankles while Jiji looked on uneasily from above - they headed for the back door of the house, taking the conversation inside.

Author's note: readers who have also visited my other Tintin story, 'The Red Feather', will notice that Tintin's 'real' name is quite different in this one. I figured I'd have more than one shot at it - since Herge offered little explanation for it, there are endless possibilities! Tintin's family background is obviously quite different in both versions, too; Tintin and Tombo's parents will be present as background characters in this story, though I won't elaborate on their personalities too much - they are parents, and watch-makers, and that is all you need to know. I hope stating all this isn't some kind of oblique spoiler for 'Feather's future plotlines - in which case, I refuse to admit that I have said anything incriminating!

By the way, I think of this story as being set either is Belgium, or a country neighbouring Belgium - Syldavia, maybe? - either real or imagined. I already stated that Miyazaki's film was set in an unspecified European nation; in this story, Koriko is close enough to Brussels that Tintin can work there and still easily come back to visit, but far enough away for him to be slightly removed from the family, with his own separate life.

Speaking of that life: yes, I realize that the relatives I have described bear a resemblance to certain Herge characters. One can presume that his familiarity with Uncles Gus and Val is the reason why Tintin rarely raises an eyebrow at the Thompsons' antics; and Bianca Castafiore is probably a bit too much like his cousin Aurora for his liking. I can explaining it by purporting that when he moved out on his own, Tintin unconsciously surrounded himself with surrogate family-members who reminded him of his own relations - it's really not just my lack of originality! Perhaps he gets along with Captain Haddock so well because he doesn't have an analogue among his own relatives? Chang sort of fulfills the role of 'little brother' figure, albeit in a far more deferential way than Tombo does!

Finally, for those that missed it, my Tintin art for charity is now available as a print on Etsy; just head to Etsy Dot Com and search for 'Tintin in Nepal' in order to purchase it, most of the proceeds go to the Red Cross earthquake appeal. I'd be thankful if people could please spread the word about it, so much more aid is still needed over there!