' Out of the land, two twins were born.
These twins were said to represent the country.
One to stand up for the government and preserve the values that society held dear,
And one to stand up for the voice of the people, to hear out the individual voices usually left unheard.
That was the duty of the twins. '
The year was 1910.
It has been nearly half a century since those events had occurred.
Kiku stared at the wall, his cold, blunt, grey eyes seemingly piercing through.
He was invited by the emperor to stay inside the meeting room, along with the other government and military officials, to listen to all the plans that they have plotted out.
None of these honestly interested him, although he knew that these were for the good of his own country—the nation that he was born to represent.
Quite a lot of things had happened over the course of forty years—within a few years' time, his once traditional country had flourished and had adopted Western culture, successfully Westernising nearly the entire land. Where once there had been fear of foreigners, there was now a dependency on them—the officials had sent in so many foreigners to help the country modernise. They even had begun to align themselves with other Western nations—like his friend from the past, who seemed to have grown stronger through the years—and even decided that they should take over other countries, as the Western nations did.
The land that was once filled with carriages drawn by animals and even people, the land that was once covered with traditional homes and dirt roads, the land that used to swarm with farm life, wanderers, and mendicants… that land was gone.
Wherever he went, all Kiku saw before him were buildings patterned after those in Western nations, as well as horseless carriages that seemed to run on an invention called 'electricity'. Where the people had once walked the streets in traditional kimono, with their clothes displaying intricate floral designs that sometimes portrayed woven stories, now the people walked in suits and ties, with a pace that made it seem as if they didn't have all the time in the world. Where once only Japanese people roamed the place, now a mix of locals and people from other countries walked around.
It was enough to make him feel terribly disconcerted. He was so accustomed to the lifestyle that he and his land had in the past, that adjusting to the more 'modern' way of life made him feel uncomfortable.
He closed his eyes briefly, shutting out the voices of the adamant and persistent officials who all wanted their say on what to do next.
Truth be told, he honestly didn't want to adopt the more 'modern', Western lifestyles that the emperor thought would greatly prosper their land. Of course, he can't deny the fact that his nation did prosper and flourish with all the many technological and educational advances, as well as the new laws and values that were set. But he had always had a yearning to go back in the past, to experience once more the things he once took for granted.
The peace in the atmosphere, the lazy days that seemed to roll by. It was so much quieter back then, without all the industrial noise. Although it was difficult to persuade the different daimyos that ruled the different places of the country, he had to admit that life before all these felt so much more quieter.
And his sister.
How long has it been since that day—that tragic, fateful day, when his sister was forcefully taken away from him? How long has it been since he had last seen her face? The image of her face that always appeared on his mind wasn't even the small, shy, yet caring smiles that his younger sibling always seemed to have—rather, it was the look on her face on that day. That confused, horrified, fear-filled face, that dirtied, bloodied, pale face. That small, terrified, fragile, shaking figure that had replaced all thoughts of his innocent, kind, and concerned little sister. No matter how hard he tried to recall how she had been before that event, the image of that frightened young girl always flashed in his head.
A small sigh escaped his lips, and he opened his eyes, only for him to lower his gaze. He was hardly listening to what the officials are saying, anymore. All he could think about was his younger sibling.
He wondered…
How is she doing?
Is she alright?
Is she even alive, still out there, taken hostage by his own people, who had wanted nothing to do with those foreign aliens?
Where is she, now?
The year was 1910.
It has been more than forty years since those events had occurred.
Sakura stared at the wall, her light brown eyes unmoving.
"How long are you going to sit in the darkness, staring at the blank wall?" a voice called out to her from behind. Light seeped in through the open door from where the voice came from, and a figure cast its shadow over her.
Sakura let out a small chuckle in reply. She could sit in the darkness for so long, staring at the wall with an equally blank expression on her face. She slowly stood up from her place, turning around to face the owner of the voice.
"What is it that you want, now…?" she asked, feigning innocence. She pursed her lips, a small frown on her face.
The figure before her shook their head. "They're becoming more and more absorbed with the deceptive lies that those aliens are feeding them," the voice said.
Sakura knew exactly what they meant—as of late, the world above and around them has been changing. It wasn't a slow, gradual change, either—it was a quick, abrupt change, a change that was more or less out to destroy the culture, traditions, and values of their ancestors that they had once cherished, in favour of the new, 'modern' ways of the Western nations.
It wasn't a beautiful change—if you held onto what you've always believed, you were sure to be left behind. It was a terrible change—a change that proved exactly how greedy and manipulative the new military officials were.
What once were beautiful, peaceful streets filled with a soft mixture of wooden houses and bamboo forests and peaceful people were now filled with vile, disgusting factories and buildings that were meant to be nothing but trouble.
Even the lives of the people greatly suffered, as well—the seemingly important officials hoarded all the money, leaving the commoners to suffer in the terrible working conditions inside the same factories that destroyed the place.
The mere thought of it was revolting—it filled Sakura's heart with both grief and anger. The people… her people… they aren't allowed to suffer like this.
"What exactly do you want me to do?" she asked, her voice suddenly firm.
The figure nodded their head, then turned around to leave.
"Destroy."
A confused look was etched on the young girl's features. She knew exactly what she had to do, even if they told her or not. However, was it justly right for her to destroy…?
She knew that it wasn't just any ordinary person that they wanted her to remove, nor was it any other important military or government official that they wanted her to destroy.
It was the emperor himself.
She frowned. The emperor was the highest person in the country—and someone she knew was blessed by the gods. Eradicating him, as a representation of the country, would be as if eradicating a deity itself.
But if the emperor was the cause of all these hardships of the people he was supposed to lead… then she had no choice, but to get rid of him.
She ran a hand through her hair as she turned to look at the mirror that was situated in the small corner of the room. She had cut it short not long after that incident that occurred nearly half a century ago, in the hopes of forgetting the tragic happenings of that day. Although her once long hair might be shorter now, one thing persistently remained as a bitter reminder that that day truly did happen.
In the heat of things, a commoner had accidentally injured the left side of her face, leaving a deep, ugly scar. She had crudely tried to hide it by wrapping a bandage around it, and parting her hair to the side so that it would be less obvious. However, the scar was still there, and there was nothing she could do to make her forget about it—it was a cruel reminder that she had to carry with her wherever she went.
She let out a sigh as she looked at her slightly damaged face. That face…
There was another one who bore nearly the exact same face.
She stared at herself in the mirror.
"Kiku…" she said softly, letting herself lower her defences. All these years, she had acted so tough—she tried to act so tough, for the sake of bearing the burden of losing her other half. It's been four decades since that day—but the bitter memory had always found its way to her head.
The way she trembled, frightened of what was happening and what was about to come. The way she screamed out her brother's name, and the way he yelled out hers in response. How he wanted to chase after her, how he wanted to pursue her—that look of silent determination, that look that made her think back then that, just for a moment, maybe everything would be alright again, that she would be together with her older sibling. That she would be safe.
But things always weren't quite what they seemed to be.
She was safe now, though—even though at first, she herself didn't trust her people, the same people she was supposed to protect but had instead ambushed her.
She is safe.
But her brother—
What had become of him?
Was he safe—is he even alive, still somewhere out there?
Where is he, now?