Re:Misaki

Re:One

Being a social worker has its ups and downs. Some days, I felt like I had done something fulfilling. It felt great to be a humanitarian. Seeing people's smiles after you have helped them and hearing their multiple thanks can make you feel loved and appreciated. To me, it felt as if I was part of the reason for the betterment of their lives. That was the reason I became a social worker after graduating with a psychology degree from a local second-tier university.

Some days, I felt like walking out and hiding myself from the cruel world. Not all people whom you have helped would appreciate you. They would trample your feelings. They would say bad things to you. However, that is part of a social worker's life. I had to deal with these ungrateful people once in awhile, and I was probably immune to this kind of people after working as a social worker for six years. Overall, I was satisfied with my life.

As a 28-year-old woman, life seemed to tune down a little as compared to those days when I had to struggle to stay afloat in university and the first few years of my life as a humanitarian. When I was 25 years old, I was desperately trying to find a potential marriage partner. I never had a boyfriend, not counting the childish and short-lived 'stead' I once had when I was in middle school. Sadly, I still could not find a boyfriend after years of searching. My mother had decided to help me by setting up blind dates but in the end, the men were either not of my interest or totally not interested in me at all.

I felt old. People had been telling me that 28 years old was still young so it was fine to wait for the right guy to appear. However, seeing my ex-classmates and friends had already gotten married while some had already become mothers, I just felt old. It was ironic, I would not deny. Although I did not share this to anyone before, I wanted to get married and stay at home to look after my children, if I could have any, be a good wife and so on. I know, it sounded like a typical school girl's dream. Maybe I was still an immature girl at heart.

In a squatting position, I pried opened a can and poured all the contents into a big plastic bowl. As the oily liquid content was poured out, a few pieces of chicken wings and drumsticks fell out of the can, splashing against the liquid. Some droplets flew straight up to my face and my dirty tee-shirt that had a big logo of the social service community which I was currently attached to on my left chest. I ignored the oily substance trickling down the bridge of my nose. The stain on my shirt could be easily washed too. If I had been in my top and presentable form, I would have made a fuss about the stains. To be honest, I hated weird stuffs on my face, much worse if they trickled down my face. Even when a raindrop hit against my cheek, my mood would make a 180 degree turn for the worst. My friends would always question me why I had such an autonomous response and sometimes, they would use this weakness of mine against me. Frankly, I didn't understand it myself. Maybe I was secretly a clean freak. Or maybe I just hated the feeling of something rolling down my cheeks or nose. It just reminded me of crying.

After pouring the contents out, I threw the can into my garbage bag that was filled with old newspapers and empty paint cans. Just then, I felt a tap on my left shoulder. Turning my head to the side, I looked up and saw my pretty colleague standing beside me with a smile. Her name is Anna Umenomiya. She had long wavy pink-dyed hair. Besides being a social worker, she was an online beauty blogger. She received a lot of sponsorships from various cosmetic brands. She would receive free cosmetics and health products for promoting their products on her blog and videos. Furthermore, having her in our community was an added advantage. She was our branded model for our company. Because of her, we would receive funding from these companies. On our company website, one could see various pictures and videos of her promoting humanitarian jobs. I only had one picture of myself on that website. It was my portfolio though.

Anna squatted too and handed me a styrofoam box. I thanked her as I took the box from her. Before I could open the box to check what was inside, her hands sandwiched the box with her thumb at the edge of the lid.

"I bought pork buns. Your favourite," she said cheerfully as she opened the box for me. "They're still fresh. Let's eat up."

"Uh, thanks, Anna."

I cleared my throat. I had not been talking since the past one hour and I did not realise that my throat was hoarse and dry from all the laborious work. Hearing my raspy voice, Anna shoved a bottle of chilled yellow coloured drink into my bare right hand.

"Luckily, I bought honey lemon for you. Do you know you don't even look well since this morning? I knew something was up. I have told you so many times not to overwork yourself. You should have rested and leave everything to us," Anna chided, opening the bottle cap for me again and gently pushed the bottle towards my lips. "Drink some first. Or else, the chicken and buns won't taste good on your dry throat."

"Our throat doesn't have taste buds."

Anna frowned. "Shut up and drink up."

I chuckled softly, feeling touched by her concern for me. It was not everyday I would receive such concern from anyone. My mother had never cared about me. Not that she was a heartless mother. It was just that she was always so preoccupied with her work that she had no idea what was happening in the household most of the time. She did not even know that my father had an affair with another woman until one fateful day when I had accidentally walked into the our house to find him with the woman. For someone like me who had a slight temper, I kicked the bed and pulled the blanket, revealing the naked pair while demanding the woman to get out of the house. Then, I told my mother about my father and they divorced soon after. Since then, when I was only a middle school student, I learnt to fend for myself because I no longer had a father and my mother was just a missing parcel of my life. I had a sister but she was the same as my mother, equally missing most of the time.

Anna was different. We first met each other during the first day of the training sessions for all new social workers and somehow, we became friends immediately after secretly chatting at the back of the training workshop room. Initially, I found her pretty with her colourful-dyed hair and bright blue eyes. I was not sure if her eyes were naturally blue or she were just putting on some trendy contact lenses. Based on her looks, I thought that she would have this 'princess' personality. But she was not what I had thought of her. Anna was a wonderful person, my confidante and my 'mother' in some aspects. She would scold me whenever I tried to misbehave a little or overwork myself. There was once I missed lunch and she knew about it. Heck. She came over to my apartment with two bags worth of MacDonald's and told me to eat till I grew fat.

Anna knew about my family background and some of my secrets. Basically, we shared secrets with each other like close friends always did without worrying that these secrets would leak. For six years, we had been sticking close together. So close that I wanted to call her my 'sister'. Furthermore, I was hoping that our friendship could hit the seventh year because I heard that friendships that lasted for seven years could last for a last time. I smiled at the thought of a lifetime friendship with Anna. Maybe the sixth year was enough for me to know that our friendship could last forever.

Still in our squatting positions, we started eating the pork buns and chicken meat for lunch. Food tastes best after five hours of hard labour. Earlier, the five of us social workers were busy cleaning up an apartment which was occupied by an elderly. We had to chase and kill cockroaches, replace new furniture and paint the badly stained walls. It was tiring but it seemed that the elderly was a grumpy old man. He scolded us for painting a colour which he did not like. I apologised to him and gave an excuse that my team had failed to check the paint colour code while Anna and the other social worker went out to buy another five cans of paint.

I would say that the mistake should not be blamed entirely on us. The previous team who had interviewed this elderly had written that he wanted lime green colour so we got that colour with the correct colour code. Somewhere along the lines, the previous team must have recorded the old man's words wrongly. The old man wanted bluish-green colour. It was not surprising to see the other three social workers' faces turned red in either embarrassment or anger. The extra amount of money we had spent on buying new paint could not be refunded and as social workers, we were tight on finance. Therefore, as soon as Anna declared our lunch break, the three of them dropped their paint brushes and stomped off to a hawker centre to have their lunch. Anna and I had decided to buy chicken can food from a convenience store and some random food which Anna had proposed to buy from the street stalls. So, there we were, having our lunch in the middle of the corridor just outside the old man's apartment.

"Anna."

"Hm?" Anna looked up and stared quizzically at me with a drumstick sticking out of her mouth.

"My sister is coming back."

The pink-haired girl pulled the drumstick out of her mouth with eyes widened in shock at my words.

"Misaki? She's coming back after so frigging long?"

"Yes. Mother told me yesterday," I replied tiredly. "1st January. She will be home."

"Oh wow." Anna rolled her eyes, pretending to muse. "On her birthday."

"Our birthday."

Anna looked into my eyes and said with a nod, "Yes, in 3 days time."

"Our colleagues usually celebrate my birthday together with the New Year celebration. I guess I won't be attending the celebration this year... I mean, next year." I laughed at my mistake, feeling a little confused as to how the first day of a new year could blow my mind with the time concept. "Have to celebrate with Misaki and Mother."

"It's okay. We can celebrate your birthday on the 31st or the 2nd. Oh, if it's on the 31st, let's have a countdown party!" Anna squealed excitedly. "I will order 4 large pizzas!"

I smiled and chirped happily, "I will look forward to it. Just let me know when, okay?"

Anna nodded and continued to feast on her drumstick. I took a chicken wing from the large bowl and held it in front of my lips for a moment as my mind trailed to my sister.

"I don't hate Misaki."

I could feel Anna's eyes on me again.

"I just hope that she would come home often. I just want a sister whom I can talk to. I don't know why... she can't even look at me into the eye."

"Mikan..." I could hear Anna's sad and worried voice.

"Sometimes, seeing Misaki's pictures makes me think... Why is my memory of her so vague? I don't know a thing about her at all even though we are identical twins." I sighed. "The irony."

Another irony, even though I don't know her very well, I still missed Misaki as if my existence wasn't completed without her beside me. Maybe because we were identical twins, had once shared the same womb, and were once a single living living cell before we were separated... But I wondered if my sister had ever felt this way too.

-:-:-:-

It was past 9pm. I was glad that that we had finally completed the task of 'renovating' the old man's apartment. We were lucky that the apartment was a two-room apartment or else, we couldn't have finished painting the walls within a day. I was dead hungry and tired, feeling the need to replenish my energy with a bowl of instant ramen. So, I pulled my car over to the side of the road, just right outside a convenience store and had a quick supper before heading back home.

As soon as I reached my apartment, I was greeted by my mother who was busying typing her report for her work in the living room, "Welcome back home. You're very late today."

"Not like I am always early either," I muttered softly, making sure she could not hear my retort.

"Mikan, are you free on 30th December?" my mother asked as she continued to look at her laptop screen instead of me.

"Yes, why?"

"I need your help."

"Like what?" I asked curiously.

I thought she would want me to run some errands for her because of the reunion meal or birthday party for both Misaki and me. But I was wrong.

"Misaki called earlier. She wanted my recipes for the Thai-style tom yam soup and mabo tofu," my mother said as she finally glanced at me. "Can you please pass my recipe book to her?"

Hell no.

"Tell her to come here and get it herself," I grunted, trying to suppress my anger from rising any further than during the day. "Anyway, she's coming back home. She can get it on 1st January."

Who did Misaki think she was? If she wanted the book, she should have just gotten it herself. She lived so far away from us, yet she expected us to travel from one city to another just to pass a stupid book to her.

"Mikan, she won't be coming home on 1st January."

"Oh? What's her excuse again? So busy with life that she can't even see her family?" I mocked, rolling my eyes upon thinking how ridiculous her excuses would be no matter what she would come out with.

No, I was so sure of the fact that Misaki was just mocking us. The day before, she had said that she would be coming back. Then what? Cancel our plans and excitement? Misaki was still as heartless as ever.

"You must understand your sister's condition. She's studying very hard now and has many work to do. She can't possibly visit us all the time. She is doing... what's that called... ah, research. Please support her, alright?" my mother said in a firm voice, as if she was trying to hold herself back from scolding me for being inconsiderate.

I might be inconsiderate. I might be a foul-mouthed person. But I could guarantee that Misaki was far worse than me. For her to back out as when as she liked, I couldn't say that she was any better than me either.

"Mother, have you ever wondered what she is doing at the other side of the world?" I questioned with a forced smile. "Have you?"

My mother frowned, not saying anything.

"Do you want to follow me to meet Misaki? It has been 2 years since we last met her during her graduation ceremony," I proposed in a rather shaky voice.

To make up for all the negative things I had said about Misaki, my sister was actually a very intelligent girl. By 26 years old, she had completed her PHD and was employed as an academic researcher in a university. She was an honour student and had always been the top student in almost all her academics. Still, no matter how good she was, her attitude was not good at all.

"No, sorry, I can't. I'm busy on the 30th."

I could see how similar Misaki and my mother were. Mother and daughter alike. I was glad that I was not this way. Maybe I was more like my father who was more than willing to run an extra mile for someone whom he loved. I could understand why my father left my mother. Not that I sided my father's wrongdoing. Honestly, I didn't approve of his affair. I hated him for it. However, my mother had brought this upon herself. My father had never received my mother's love and attention like what he had always given her. 'She was always busy and I felt like I don't know your mother anymore,' my father had used to grumble to me during our dinner time. Our dinner time always consisted of me and my father, just the two of us. My mother and Misaki... Well, I didn't know where they were all the time.

Upon seeing my mother looking rather restless from either her rejection or my silence, my shoulders relaxed in defeat and I simply answered her, "It's okay. I will go then."

Anyway, I missed Misaki. I wondered if we still looked alike in terms of appearance. Maybe she had tattoos and ear-piercing. Who knows? I promised myself that I would give her a piece of my mind for randomly cancelling out her visit. Perhaps, we could hang out at a cafe for a drink and chat about life. There were so many things to catch up on.

"Mikan, the recipe book is in my room cabinet. Third compartment. And the book cover is green in colour," my mother informed me before bringing her attention back to her work.

"Okay."

With that response, I left my mother alone and searched for the recipe book.

-:-:-:-

30th December. As soon as I woke up in the morning, I left my house with the recipe book and my handbag. I wore a new dress which I had just bought a week ago. It had a white top and a black bottom, basically a simplistic dress. I seldom wore dresses because of the nature of my job, except for parties and celebrations. Since I was going from one city to another, I was thinking to wear something different to 'chill' myself out.

It took at least five hours for me to travel from Nagoya to Tokyo, having a short break in between to refill my car petrol. By the time I arrived at the new city, it was already past noon and my stomach was growling from hunger. Despite how hungry I was, I decided to meet up with my sister first and perhaps have lunch with her instead. I didn't think she would have lunch at noon or much earlier. I just hoped not.

I fished out my handphone and called her. Almost immediately, she picked up the call with a monotonous voice.

"Hello."

"Misaki, Mikan's speaking. Mother told me to bring the recipe book..."

"Where are you now?" Misaki interrupted.

"Keio State University... Carpark B, I think."

"Okay, go to Building C and take a lift up to the 8th floor. I will see you there."

Then, she quickly hung up the call. I grimaced at her lack of affect. She sounded so dull, as if talking to me was a pain in the neck. She didn't even let me finish my sentence or hear what I wanted to say. Misaki was still as distant as ever. At least, this time she picked up my call but this was because she had to pick up my call. The other times I had tried to call her were not successful. She would either not pick up the call or cut the line. Technically, this would be the first time we actually spoke to each other since we had last met each other two years ago.

Without further ado, I left the carpark and hunted for Building C which was actually two buildings away from Carpark B. It was my third time here in Keio State University. My first time was two years ago during Misaki's graduation ceremony while the second time was me looking for her last year but in the end, I could not meet up with her because she refused to meet me. I did not know the reason behind her actions but all she had said to the receptionist that she was too busy to meet me.

When I entered Building C, I walked hurriedly towards the elevator lobby as I noticed that the elevator doors had just slid open and a man in formal attire - typical white long-sleeved collared shirt and a long black pants - walked inside the lift. I saw his hand reach out to the elevator buttons and my usual 'scared-to-lose' attitude started to kick in. I started running towards the elevator and called out to the man.

"I'm sorry! Please wait!"

The man looked up and stared at me with the most enchanting eyes I had ever seen. They were crimson-red in colour, I mentally mused as my breath seemed to be taken away from such a rare beautiful eye colour. Oh, that wasn't the point. I had to catch that elevator. However, that man did not seem to be bothered about me and he pressed the lowest button. Giving me a final look as the doors began to close, I could see a glint of mockery in his eyes. Aggravated, I paced up and charged full-speed towards the elevator. The doors were already halfway closed. 10 more inches... 8 more inches... 6 more inches... About there, Mikan!

"Please excuse me!" I yelled as I inserted my right foot in between the closing doors.

My face lit up as if I had won a race. Just in time!

I waited patiently for the elevator to reopen as my foot was sandwiched in between the doors. Thank goodness that I had worn a pair of sports-sandals instead of high heels. It would hurt my feet after running a distance like that and letting my foot be clamped. Within two to three seconds, the doors slid open again and I walked inside the elevator.

I apologised to the man who did not seem to care whether I had just hijacked the elevator in a terrible fashion or not. Rather, he stood at the back, holding his electronic pad and looking at whatever thing on the screen. I pressed the button that had an '8' engraved on it and the doors closed again.

The journey up the building was awkward. The man behind me had not said anything even after I had apologised. Maybe he saw me as a strange person. Or maybe I had irritated him with my shouting. Oh crap! I should not have behaved weirdly on campus. What if the security thought I was a student and had to be detained for causing nuisance? There was CCTV at the concourse, right? I tilted my head upwards and let out a soft gasp. There was a CCTV in the elevator!

Suddenly, the man behind me cleared his throat. Startled, I bought my handbag to the left side of my face and slowly turned my head to the left to catch a glimpse of the man who was still looking at his pad. This time, it was not his eyes that caught my attention. His black hair was messy, yet looked strangely good on him. He had a high pronounced cheekbone which I was dying to have. Also, he had small waist... Okay, to be honest, I did not have a thing for men with small waist. It put me off because they made me so jealous. Why couldn't I have a small waist too?!

"Ding~ 8th storey."

For the second time, I was startled and immediately faced the front again. The doors slid open, saving me from the awkwardness. Without further ado, I walked out of the elevator and made a quick turn to my right to hide behind the wall. When the doors closed, I lowered my handbag and heaved a sigh of relief. Looking around me, I noticed that there was only a glass door on the right side and two toilet entrances on the left. Next to the toilets was the exit door with a symbol of a human stickman walking up a flight of stairs. Misaki had to be at the right side, behind the glass door, I thought to myself. So, I headed towards the glass door and pushed it open. I could feel a gush of cold air brush against my face as I passed through the next segment of the 8th floor. There were many rooms lined up along the hallway and I assumed that I had entered into the staffroom. I gulped anxiously. Was I allowed to be in this place? Maybe I should wait outside.

Just when I was about to make a turn back to where I was from, a voice called out to me, "Mikan, here."

I turned to the source and felt myself stop breathing for a moment. There she was, standing next to a room which I guessed was her office... looking just like me, an exact replica. We were apart for so long, yet we hadn't 'deviated' from each other. She was wearing a white sleeveless collared shirt and a knee-level black skater skirt. Even our hairstyle was the same - shoulder-length, hazel brown bob.

"Misaki," I greeted with a smile as I walked towards her. "How are you? It has been so long."

"The book," Misaki demanded as she extended her arm towards me.

With my smile being forced to be wiped off due to her obnoxious response, I stopped in front of her room and began digging for the book inside my handbag. It was no use trying to talk nicely to her. She would not even want to talk to me. Was saying 'I'm fine' or 'I'm not fine' difficult? I took out the recipe book and slapped it on her palm. Opps, I had forgotten to be nice.

"Misaki, Mother is..."

"Thanks," she interjected and pushed open her office door.

Then, she walked into her room. I knew that she did not want to speak to me anymore but I was not going to let her shut me out again. I had so many things to say to her and I was sure that she had so many things to explain to me and our mother. Instead, I opened the door wider and forced myself into the room.

"Misaki, listen. Please come back on the 1st, okay? It has been 2 years. Mother misses you and I..."

"No, I'm not returning. There will be a party here and I have to go," she said, like our mother, refusing to look at me. "I'm in-charged of preparing the meals."

I frowned angrily. Excuses, excuses, excuses. Even if it was not a lie, what she had said was an excuse for not wanting to return home. To me, it just felt this way.

"You can stay here for as long as you want. I'm leaving," Misaki continued to speak, throwing the recipe book on her messy desk and then picking up her handbag.

"Misaki!"

Ignoring me, she pushed me aside and left the room. Clenching my fists, I inhaled deeply and held my breath to recollect my thoughts. I had to be rational here. I could not let Misaki get the better of me and let myself be the only one fussing over this issue. If she wanted to deal with this calmly, I should too. I slowly breathed out, cooling myself down as I held onto the door knob. Even if I couldn't convince her to return home, I still wanted to talk to her in hope to bring back some senses or whatever empathy she had in her. She couldn't be any more missing that she already was in my life. I wanted to know Misaki... all over again.

I headed out of the room and chased after Misaki who was surprisingly taking the stairs at the exit. She purposely didn't want to take the elevator, did she? She knew that I would chase her.

"Misaki, we have to talk," I cried out as I ran down the flight of stairs to catch up with her.

She, too, quickened her steps down the flight of stairs. Fortunately, I was a bit faster than her in terms of physical abilities due to the rough nature of my job. By the 5th storey, I was already in front of her, blocking her way.

"Misaki." I gave her a stern stare as she averted her eyes away from me. "Give me a minute."

"Huh?" she grunted loudly and glared at me. "I don't think we have anything nice to talk about."

"Yes, we do."

"If it is an intelligent one, speak. You have got a minute to do so. I'm counting."

"As busy as ever, huh?" I said in a taunting voice and faked a laugh, shaking my head in disappointment. "I know it may not sound intelligent to you but I think it is important to tell you this."

Misaki narrowed her eyes at me.

I continued, "We miss you. Mother sees you as her pride so please... at least pay her a visit."

"Did she ever miss me? Genuinely?" Misaki asked in a harsh voice. "She hardly has time for us. Did she even care for the family? Even that old man left her because of her neglect!"

"Of course, she does care for us!"

Misaki bellowed, "No, she doesn't. All she does all day is indulging herself with work and more work. Think about it, Mikan. What is your fondest memory of her?"

I fell silent, staring wide eyed at her. There had to be some fond memories of me and my mother. For 28 years, there had to be at least one. My mind was running through my past memories and all I could see was the same thing, like a procedure that had happened many times yet seemed like it had only happened once in my whole life. Mother's weary face.

"Nothing, right?" It was Misaki's turn to laugh, probably trying to mock me as well. "See, I told you. If she does care about me, she would have called me. The only thing she has so-called cared so far was my doctoral degree. Not the process, but the product. She only cared about being there on my graduation ceremony. Other than that, she won't make time for me. For us."

"Mother was busy..."

"Yes, like me."

I felt a knot tied around my throat. I didn't know what to argue with her anymore. I didn't want to agree with her but some things she had said held certain facts that I couldn't deny. Unlike Misaki, my own degree graduation ceremony wasn't something to be happy or proud of. While everyone brought his or her family to the ceremony, I attended alone. I was so used to this loneliness that I didn't even think for once that I was alone.

"You know, Misaki, you can return... just for me. I will always welcome you back," I said softly, reaching out to touch her wrist. "I have always wanted a sister. I mean, we're both sisters. We can share all our pain and worries together. We can..."

"What do you mean by we can? In the first place, we're not sisters. I have never regarded you as one before. Never." She forcefully pulled her wrist out of my grasp. "Look at you. Seeing your face disgust me. How can we look so alike? I really hate you. Your face, your everything. Did that old man ever told you?"

I withdrew my hand and furrowed my eyebrows. "Told me what?"

"That you're supposed to be dead."

I let out a soft gasp. Why did she have to bring this thing up here? I hated this topic and I knew what what she was going to say next.

"We were once one, Mikan. Even during the labour, there should be only one child being born..." Misaki held her index finger up in front of my face. "... alive."

With pleading eyes, I pushed her hand away from me and said, "Misaki, let's not talk about this, okay?"

"And that child is Misaki," she continued with a smirk. "Where did 'Mikan' come from?"

"Stop it," I warned.

"The two of us were supposed to be Misaki."

Just then, I saw red. I had heard enough of her nonsense. As I raised my hand getting ready to give her a tight slap, Misaki skillfully caught my wrist and forcefully pushed it down, causing an imbalance on one side of my body. Before I knew what was happening, I had lost my footing and felt gravity pulling my back. Everything seemed to be in slow motion. I tried to grab onto the railing next to me but I missed it. As I fell even further away from Misaki, I could see her looking at me with desperate eyes. For the first time, I saw Misaki looking at me this way. I didn't know she could make that face, especially towards me the unwanted twin. It somehow made me a little happy to see this side of her.

"Mikan!" Misaki screamed and stretched her arm towards me. "Hold onto me!"

I couldn't do that. If I did, she would fall together with me.

"You stupid!" Misaki yelled again as she lunged forward.

I could feel her whole body pressed against mine and a pair of warm arms wrapped around me.

You stupid! I mentally yelled in alarm. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around her too, protecting her head with my palms. Then, my back finally landed on the edges of the steps and both of us began tumbling down the stairs. I swore it was not a good experience with the back and the sides of my head hitting hard against the concrete edge. Even my back and buttock hurt.

Finally, we stopped rolling as my back hit against something vertical. I let go of Misaki and painfully sat up, rubbing the back of my head. I did not know if I should be thankful or not. The flight of stairs we had rolled down was only seven steps because we were 'fighting' in the middle of it. Seven steps wouldn't kill a person, would they? I looked down and saw Misaki lying still on the ground. Maybe I was wrong. Seven steps could kill. Seeing her not moving made me shiver in fear. I grasped her arm and began shaking her as my eyes began to sting.

"Misaki? Misaki!" I cried out anxiously. "Why did you do that? Oh my god. Misaki!"

I pressed my hands against my temples, trying to stifle a scream that was threatening to burst out of my lungs. Why did it have to happen this way? Why couldn't we have peace for once? Why...

"I believe it has been more than a minute."

My breath hitched. My eyes slowly trailed down to the figure beneath my nose and caught a pair of similar looking eyes staring coolly back at me.

"Times up. I need to go now," Misaki said dully as she stood up, grabbing her handbag which had just fallen out of her arm.

She walked over to one of the steps and picked up a brown object before chucking it into her handbag. Without saying a single word of 'bye' to me, she began walking down the stairs. Groaning in pain, I stood up unsteadily and limped towards the flight of stairs which she was taking.

"Are you hurt?" I asked worriedly.

She looked up at me and smirked.

"No, I won't be hurt that easily."

With that, she made a turn to another series of stairs and disappeared from my sight. I walked towards my handbag and my other items, such as my water bottle, wallet and handphone, which had all fallen out of the handbag. I quickly picked the items up and stuffed them into my handbag before running down the stairs again to catch up with Misaki, ignoring the throbbing pain on my back and ankles. By the 3rd storey, I realised that I had lost Misaki. Either she had left the stairs by taking an elevator down instead or she indeed had something on between the 5th and 3rd storeys like a meeting, lecture or anything which had got to do with her academic life.

Dropping a sigh, I slowly walked down the stairs to the ground level and headed to Carpark B. I had lost my appetite and I probably would not be having lunch anymore. I wanted to return home quickly and take a good rest. I unlocked my car and sat inside, immediately resting my forehead against the stirring wheel. My head really hurt and I doubt I could drive for the next five hours back to my city. But I couldn't stay here either. Not like I had anything to do here anymore. My job was done and I had to go back for the upcoming countdown party the next day. So, I started the engine and drove off regardless of my throbbing headache.

-:-:-:-

It was already 3.45pm and I was only halfway through my journey back home. I pulled my car over to a petrol station and bought a tank of petroleum for back-up in case I ran out of petrol halfway through the journey. Together with the tank, I also bought a small packet of sweets for myself to chew on so as to distract myself from the pain at the back of my head. Anyway, I needed glucose too to keep myself awake.

At the cashier counter, I took out my wallet from my handbag and used my thumb to flip through the multiple small notes. Weird. I remembered having five large notes and six smaller notes after spending four large notes on refilling my car petrol in the morning. Did I recall wrongly? Maybe my mind was beginning to play tricks on me. The impact on my head must have been so strong that I had gotten myself confused with such a simple recollection of money. Nevertheless, I handed the notes to the cashier and left the station with my paid items. I got into my car and started driving again.

At 4.20pm, I pulled my car over to a random carpark and took a quick nap. Of course, I shut down the car engine and rolled down the window rail halfway at my side. I knew it would be dangerous to leave it fully open because who knew someone would nab me while I was asleep. Anyway, I was hoping that my headache would subside after napping. If not, I had to consult a doctor to check if my head was really injured by the fall. My ankles seemed fine, except for a small bruise just above my right ankle. My back still hurt a little but the pain was not no longer as bad as earlier and also my head.

I didn't know how long I slept until I heard a beep coming from my handphone. I woke up groggily and checked my handphone for the new incoming message. Much to my surprise, it was from Anna. I smiled to myself as I opened the text message.

'Mikan, I will miss you so badly.'

I chuckled. It was only two days ago we had just seen each other. Anyway, we would still be seeing each other soon like on the 31st or 2nd, whichever day we would be celebrating my birthday. But I guessed there would be a countdown party the next night so ultimately, we would still see each other. I ran my fingers against the screen, typing back a reply to her.

'Will miss you too, lovely.'

I placed my handphone on the seat next to me and started the engine again. It was already 7.27pm. I couldn't believe that I had slept for three hours! I would probably reach home around 9pm to 10pm, and that was too long a journey for me to handle. I was getting strangely lethargic and my headache still hadn't subsided yet. Setting out for another round of journey, I drove a little slower than before as my eyes scanned for any small clinic among the shop houses which were lined up along the roadside. Lady Luck was on my side as I chanced upon a big road sign that was written 'Saito Clinic #01-48. Turn Left'. I followed the instruction and went to park my car in another small carpark before heading to the clinic with my handbag.

The queue was long and I had to wait for fifteen minutes to get my queue number at the counter. The clinic assistant requested for my identity card and personal particulars since I was new to this clinic and she needed to create a new database under my name. I gladly complied to the request and took out my wallet. I handed my identity card to her and she began typing the details into the clinic database.

When she was done typing, she returned the card to me and asked, "May I know what condition do you have?"

"I fell down the stairs during the afternoon... around 1pm? And I think I have hit my head really badly... The back of my head hurts till now," I explained.

The clinic assistant looked shocked for a moment before composing herself and then typed my response into the database again.

"So, Harada, do you have any drug allergy?"

"No, I don't..." I paused and stared quizzically at the clinic assistant. "Err... I think you have gotten my name wrong or something. I'm Yukihira."

"Hm? What do you mean?" The clinic assistant looked back at me confused. "Your card says Misaki Harada."

"How can it be?" I said with a laugh and looked down, flipping the card over to see the name.

My smile dropped. Indeed, next to my face, or rather not my face at all, was a name I totally did not recognise. I recognised 'Misaki' but not 'Harada'. However, that was not the point here. Misaki Harada wasn't my name. Mikan Yukihira was.

"I'm sorry. I think... I have mixed my identity card up with my twin sister's," I gave a quick excuse to the confused clinic assistant. "Can I... still see the doctor?"

"Err..." The young lady turned hesitantly to the another assistant who was busying attending to other patients, and then looked back at me with a stressed look on her face. "Yukihira, I'm sorry to say this... but we need your identity card."

Normally, I would have argued my way through, demanding why an identity card was placed before a human's life. It was like, I had just hit my head and I might have some serious issue with my head but because of the fact that I couldn't produce an identity card, I could not see a doctor. Life shouldn't be just black-and-white, or pen-and-paper. Such administrative rules in a medical setting can be broken in some cases, right? Not like I was some suspicious person trying to hijack the clinic either. This time, I felt like it would be useless to even fight my way through. I had better things to deal with at this moment.

"Oh, okay. I will come back later," I lied and left the clinic.

I flipped opened the wallet once more and began pulling all the cards out. True enough, every card had 'Misaki Harada' on it. I frowned deeply as I scanned the wallet. It looked exactly like mine - dark brown in colour with black flowery patterns along the edge - but the contents were different. Furthermore, I could finally understand the reason why there was a discrepancy between my memory of the number of large notes I should have and the strange large number of small notes which I didn't remember having. This wallet was not mine, but was actually my sister's.

I couldn't believe it. Even our wallets were of the same design although I had never thought that she would like this cheap 'old-fashioned' layout. I bought this wallet because not only was it cheap, but it was also pretty. I wondered if Misaki felt the same way too.

I got into my car again and realised that my handphone was still on the seat next to me. I picked it up, planning to give Misaki a call to inform her about our wallets. I bet by now, she would have realised it too. I unlocked my handphone screen and saw an unread message from Anna again.

'Who are you?'

I quirked an eyebrow at her strange message but soon let out another chuckle. Probably the word 'lovely' made her feel gross or something, or she was just trying to be funny. I closed the message and began calling Misaki. The first three calls weren't successful but the final one did. What scared me the most that the voice didn't sound like my sister. The voice was feminine and monotonous as well but it just sounded very different.

"Whoever you are, if you are looking for Misaki Harada, she isn't in her office right now."

I cleared my throat and spoke in a soft voice, "Hi, sorry... may I know when she will..."

"Dr Harada?"

"Yes, Misaki Harada."

"Finally, Dr Harada. There were like hundreds of calls trying to reach you. Your mother and some other people called, and like... I don't know how to put this across..."

"Huh? Mother? No, wait, I'm not..."

"No, listen. I'm very sorry to say this but..."

I heard a deep breathing at the other side of the line and somehow, the mood felt so grave all of a sudden.

"Your sister, Mikan, has just passed away."

Showers are the best time for crazy ideas. I don't know why I suddenly had the urge to write a mystery-drama (romance too!) fic for GA. I have written one for another forum before but that was 3-4 years ago. Anyway, I hope this fanfic will spark some interest in my readers. Jun said that this story would be so hard to write (can't deny though), but I want to see how far I can go with this 'refreshing' idea. See you all in the next chapter!