My Missing Half

by Natimus Prime

It's been a year since I left Hokkaido. Since I left behind friends, home, and half of my soul. I look in the mirror and see her face, but despite a fake smile, I still feel the pain of other half, unmourned and unknown by all. All but me. -Continuation-

2. The Return

The Return

It's the first time I've gone back to Hokkaido since we left a year ago. Otousan's shop is a branch of the original Ibaraki where he learned his trade. Shin-ojisan taught him everything, and Otousan finally learned enough that Shin-ojisan decided he should start up his own place. The ranch was doing well enough to support Otousan's new store until it was ready to stand on its own, but Otousan insisted that he be considered just a branch of their main shop. That way, he said, people on vacation in the area would make sure to stop in and see them. So every other month, he leaves the shop in the care of his apprentices for a weekend and rides the train north to meet with Shin-ojisan and the rest of the family. He told me once that they spend a lot of time talking about new ideas for things to make and sell, doing experiments in new types of bread or new shapes.

I decided to never go with him.

Going back would mean seeing all those people I had to leave behind. It would be nice to see them all again, to play with my old friends for an afternoon, but I know I wouldn't be able to stop thinking about Her. She should be there too, laughing and playing with us like she used to. But no one remembers my shining light, and they wouldn't understand why I wasn't completely happy to see them all again. So instead, I write them letters, so they won't be able to see the tears in my eyes when something reminds me of Her. But yesterday, Otousan said he was going north, and I looked at the calendar. Soon it would be the anniversary of that day.

The day I was left alone again.

I found myself saying that I wanted to come this time. It would be a Saturday, I said, and we only had half our classes, so my elementary school would let us out in time to catch the train and arrive before dark. And on Sunday, there would be no school, so I could see everyone if I wanted to. Otousan just smiled, and said that it would be nice for them to see me again. Shin-san and Sakura-san had both asked after me during his last visit.

So after class, we got aboard the train with just a pair of overnight bags--a few changes of clothes to see us through the weekend. It would have been faster to fly, but the plane tickets are expensive, too expensive for a trip that Otousan makes so often. As it was, I would miss school on Monday, but Sensei understood why we were going when we did, especially when I mentioned the anniversary.

Sensei thought I meant it was the anniversary of the day I left, and I knew better than to tell him the truth.

Right now, our train has arrived at the station. I've spent the whole ride steeling myself for what is to come, burying my pain so that I can smile at everyone. Looking out over the land as we rode past it helped, somehow. But now Otousan is calling for me. He has our bags, and we need to catch a bus to get the rest of the way to the ranch. We never did get a car when we lived here, and we live above the shop in Tokyo, so there was no need for one there either.

My friends the travelers from far away had their own cars. When you have to do what we did, you need to be able to get to places the busses don't go. Sometimes we had to go off the main roads to find what we were looking for, so it was difficult. And we didn't have flying motorcycles back at the beginning.

I smile at the thought, briefly. Invisible flying motorcycles made it a lot easier to get around, especially when we had to sneak out of the house at night.

.o0O0o.

The bus ride helps me finish clearing my head. A lot of the roads are still familiar to me. I shouldn't be so surprised, it's only been a year, but I find it somewhat reassuring. If I can remember something trivial like this, then I won't forget about the mirror of my soul for a long, long time. That, more than anything, strengthens my resolve.

By the time we get to the ranch, it is late afternoon. The winter night comes early this far north, but when the bus pulls away from the stop, driving off into the twilight, Shin-ojisan is there, waiting for us with the ranch's pickup truck. Otousan waves a greeting, calling out to him, and they shake hands, smiling. Then they look at me, and I muster up a smile. It's shaky, but hopefully they will think it is just my shyness. I bow politely and say, "Konbanwa, Shin-ojisan." He just smiles and laughs, then helps Otousan put the bags in the bed of the old truck. We rumble off down the road, Otousan and Shin-ojisan already talking about what they've been doing since they last met. I say quiet, letting their voices soothe me into a half-sleep.

Before I realize it, we've arrived. Otousan tells me that we're staying in our old house for the night, since the ranch uses it for guests. He usually doesn't put them to the trouble, and takes a mat or the couch in the main house, but when they heard I was coming with him they got everything set up for us. I'm not sure I'm ready to stay in my old room, especially without the other bed beside me.

Sakura-san walks in from the kitchen. The older girl changed a lot in the almost-two years since we first met. She smiles more, and she doesn't seem to mind working around the house. She's still a teenager by the way she dresses--clothes that show her off, even when nobody's looking--but she used to be so angry all the time, really moody and quiet. I can still remember when her mother got sick and they had to bribe Sakura with a trip to a concert to get her to help out around the ranch. When she finally understood just how much work it was to keep things running, I think she realized how selfish she'd been. Either way, she's smiling when she greets me, and tells us all that dinner is ready.

During dinner, everyone is asking me about my classes, my new friends, even the weather in Tokyo. I do my best to keep up, and talking about the present helps me ignore the reminders of the person who is missing from the scene. As I talk, I realize that even if their memories of her are gone, they still subconsciously left room for her at the table. Does that mean that the memory blocks are wearing away, or is it a sign that the other half of my heart might come back?

I force myself not to think about it. I smile at a joke, and talk about trivial things. Eventually, dinner is eaten, and Otousan notices my eyes drooping. He makes our excuses, and we go back to the other house. I try not to look around the little room I used to share with my twin. It's so bare now. Most of the furniture came back with us to Tokyo, just as it had followed us here when we'd arrived the first time. The little bed is the spare we left behind. Otousan was pretty confused about it at first, wondering why we had a second bed for me, but it stayed behind for when others came to visit.

I can remember other nights, nights where the distance from one bed to another was too far, and we both slept in that little bed with the tube-metal frame. I was so afraid then, afraid of losing her. I keep my face frozen, a mask to hide the sorrow I feel at realizing that those fears had eventually come true, and now I had to spend the night in the place where I felt them most strongly. Otousan must be able to tell I am not feeling well, even if he can't understand what I'm really feeling, or why. He puts a gentle hand on my shoulder, and says he doesn't like to stay here either, because the memories always make him feel nostalgic, and a little sad. Then he smiles, to make a joke, and says that I mustn't tell Shin-ojisan about that, or he'd never hear the end of it. I smile at that funny thought, and--seeing my cheer--Otousan puts my bag down on the floor and tells me to go to sleep, because I'll want to get up early to spend time with everyone.

.o0O0o.

The exhaustion of the long day was the only thing that let me sleep that night. My only consolation was that there were no dreams. Sometimes, the dreams are of better times, when she and I were together. Sometimes, after a really bad day, I have nightmares of the day she left. Those cruel, inhuman monsters that haunted our lives since the day we met are finally gone, but she disappeared on the very same day.

I have never even considered thinking the victory to be worth the cost I paid. And my beloved, her price was far, far higher.

But the world still turns, and that is enough, most days. It isn't fair, and it still hurts, but knowing that our sacrifice was not in vain lets me keep moving forward. One of the pamphlets we read about grieving after Sho-kun died said that time will help distance me from the pain, that the happy memories will block out the bad ones. Time hasn't helped yet, but maybe what I plan to do today will.

Today, I'm going to her grave.

There is no body, of course. She just vanished, as though she had never been, and it was only because I had put her mittens in my pockets that I had that much left of her. Our clothes were all shared, since we were the same size, but the few things that were absolutely 'hers' went away with her. Her boots, her jacket, even the tie that she wore in her hair is gone.

I tried putting my hair up once, to try and see her face in the mirror more clearly. I couldn't bear to look.

Otousan and I went to the main house for an early breakfast, then I told him that there was a place I wanted to make sure I visited, out in the woods. I would go see my friends at the school later, since it was a Sunday and most of them would be skating on the ice rink they made in the playground. He told me to be careful, because even if I was familiar with the woods I could still get lost or hurt. I gave him a half-smile, and told him that I'd take Tenmaru with me on my walk. The ranch dog was getting on in years now, he was at least nine, but he was smart, loyal, and he absolutely loved playing outdoors.

The fact that he's probably the only one who still remembered my twin just makes it better. It just feels right to have him come.

I put on my coat, my boots, and my hat and scarf. In the pockets are two mittens, one pink and one red. I pull on each one, and I can feel a prickling in my eyes. Being back here, so close to all those memories, is making it harder to keep from crying. I force myself to get out the door before someone notices, but I remember to grab a small backpack with winter supplies, something we always did when the weather might turn bad. The weather forecast said it might snow, and I don't want to freeze if I get lost. Tenmaru follows along beside me as I walk down a familiar trail. I won't cry now, because she would have said something to cheer me up. I manage a small, wan smile as Tenmaru runs ahead. He knows where I plan to go, and his big doggy body breaks through the snow for me. There's just enough to make walking difficult for my short legs, but not so much that I have to worry about falling over. Briefly, I wish I had brought a shovel.

.o0O0o.

The walk isn't really all that long, but I must have been lost in my thoughts, because all of a sudden, we're there. Tenmaru walks around our destination for a bit, then wanders off to chase something he smells. At least, I think he smelled something. I'm glad to be alone for this, though. Just like going to visit any other memorial, it's best done quietly. Speaking of which, I suddenly realize I have a lot to say, and crouching long enough to say it all is going to give me cramps.

Nearby there is an evergreen whose branches are bare of snow. One bough has broken recently under the weight of its load, but hasn't fallen all the way to the ground yet. It's needles are still green, and I tromp over to grab it. I break off part of it for later, and use the rest like a broom to sweep away a clear spot at the base of an old birch tree. I can't get all the snow away, but I'm down to the hard-packed stuff now. Laying the snow-covered branches in the spot I've cleared, I take the other part, still dry, and put it over the wet needles. The drier pine will keep my pants from getting too wet while I kneel.

This old tree was one of the first things I found after we moved to Hokkaido. When I was lonely, I came out here, and felt drawn to it. I confessed my fears to it, I told it my doubts, I let it listen to my problems and let it draw away all those things so that I could go on with the day. My 'worry tree' she called it once, the place where I could let everything go. I left the other pair of our mittens here at its base when we left.

It felt right that this place should be my memorial to her.

There is no sign of the mittens, of course. Animals might have taken them, or they fell apart in the rain and snow, but this was where I had wanted to remember her. The tree had seen us often enough, it felt reassuring to know that it would be able to listen while I spoke to my beloved, my shining light, my everything. I kneel, clapping my hands twice just like I would at a temple.

Stumbling at first, I told her about going back to Tokyo without her. Of course, no one else thought it was unusual, but I knew I was leaving behind something very precious to me. But we settled into the small apartment over the bakery Otousan was going to run. It was nice, because the whole place smelled like fresh bread all the time, and the scent was always soothing for me, the daughter of a baker. The sounds of the people below, always happy, seemed to fill the space above as well, and it kept the worst of the melancholy away. And whenever I needed that comfort, I could just go down and sit with Otousan and let my sorrow drain away. Never mind that he thought I just missed my friends from Hokkaido, it still helped me.

At school, I was too busy to dwell on my loss. It wasn't long after we returned to the main island that I became a fifth-grader. We lived in a different part of Tokyo than we had before, because of the bakery, so I went to a different school. That helped too, because none of these people expected me to be a certain way. Remembering how outgoing my other half was, I tried to do that too. When I realized how much less scary all these new people were when I wasn't making myself hard to talk to, I wondered why I had been so withdrawn after we moved to Hokkaido in the first place. Maybe it was because those kids thought that a city girl like me thought I was too good to talk to country ruffians, when all I really wanted was for them to stop staring at me like I was a bug under glass.

But the friends I made at my new school weren't like the friends I made out here. The most of the kids here were genuinely friendly once we got to know each other, and the ones who weren't were snobs to everybody, so I wasn't any different. In Tokyo, the girls were all concerned about getting the most stylish clothes, or the best hair, or other silly things. The boys were just as bad, obsessing over their sports or the latest gadgets. The richer kids were the most popular, even when they were mean, self-centered brats. Otousan's bakery is doing good business, but we aren't rich. Most of the money goes back into the business, to get better ovens, or special ingredients, or pay the other bakers Otousan is hiring to handle the work. Because we're in the middle of a city, we get a lot more business than the store out here at the ranch, except during tourist season.

The hardest part about all of it is knowing that there should be someone else in our little apartment, laughing and smiling. Okaasan died a while ago, because something went wrong when I was born and it made her sick, but whenever I ask Otousan about the hows and whys, he tells me that it's very technical and I wouldn't really understand until I'm older. But we've already said our goodbyes to her. Okaasan had a memorial service, and her name is on the memorial stone, so I can go and speak to her whenever I need to. I'm sure she would want me to be happy now, even though she can't share it with me.

Okaasan would have loved to have met her. Otousan might have been fooled with the fancy memory tricks DD and Orudina could do with their alien technology, but Okaasan wouldn't have cared. Having a second daughter would have made her happy enough not to care that she only gave birth to one girl. Seeing how much we cared for each other, how we drew so much strength from being together, would have made her happier than anything in the whole world.

I can feel the tears falling now, hot streaks of wetness against my chilly face. They cool as they fall, until they fall to the ground to join the snow around me. Oh, I wish you were still with me, my shining light! I never realized how much I needed someone like you until you came to me, that fateful night when we first met each other. I can still feel the terror of fighting that alien monster, watching it hurt DD. But more than that, I remember you telling me to be calm, that you would protect me, that you would never let me be hurt.

That we could beat it.

That it was me, my power, my strength, that would defeat something strong enough to nearly kill a grown man.

And later, when we used that bond between us to save the whole world from becoming a dead, lifeless lump of rock, you told me you were so happy to have met me.

Why?! Why did you have to go away?! You promised me that we would be together forever and ever! That nothing would take you from me! Even if we weren't really sisters, even if you weren't even really human, we were twins in all the ways that mattered. You said that I was your everything, you most precious person, and that you would always be there to protect me, no matter what. But you couldn't protect me from losing you! And it hurts! It hurts so much, I want to die! At least then, we could be together. Even if it's only for a moment, I want to see you again, to tell you the one thing I could never tell you when you were awake to hear me. You did so much, worked so hard to keep me safe, even when it meant risking everything and everyone. And at the end of it all, when you were so hurt you could barely move, I knew it was my turn to protect you.

You, the Shining Light to my Soaring Wings.

My Sister.

My Twin.

My Most Precious Person.

My Everything.

My Hikaru.

.o0O0o.

The old birch had been in this same place, more or less, since time out of mind. It sprouted, grew, died, and was reborn anew, over and over, because that was what trees do when they are on ground sacred to the spirits of a place. In the West, some who still studied the old ways would have called it a dryad, and others would have called it an angel, but the people of its land had their own names, and all the names meant much the same thing. It was one of the First, home to one of the minor tree kami that saw to the growth and care of the forests. It had watched over this lonely little human girl when she had first come to these woods, for though it was a very minor thing in the rankings of the divine creatures, it was still possessed of rudimentary intelligence, and plenty of empathy. It listened to the human child, and knew that she derived comfort from being near it.

When the human had brought the one who wore the guise of a human, but was of the earth, it had been unable to understand. There had been nothing like this being in all its memory, and it had no word for what the creature was. But as the two had come, and told it their dreams and their doubts, their joys and their sorrows, it had understood what the human-who-was-earth meant to the human, and it had later understood the nature of the human's sorrow when the human-who-was-earth had not returned with it. As kami are ranked, this tree was one of the lowest of the low, but it was one of the oldest on the island. It had grown wiser over its millennia of existence, and it had understood the root of the problem, if not the specifics: the human girl missed the one-who-was-of-earth-but-walked-like-a-human.

Low ranked it might be, but it was still an ancient kami, and it still had power. Especially at this, the end of its growing cycle.

The birch tree kami had spoken to the others of Hokkaido, and they had gathered the scattered fragments of the silver-shining-human, as the crows who did the work called the strange creature. Many pieces were barely larger than dust, but all of them had fallen here. The Island knew that none had left its borders, and It knew, with the deep intelligence of the primal land that composed it, that the silver-one had saved it when it was being torn apart by an evil from beyond its borders. The silver-one deserved to be remembered and rewarded, but without knowledge of what it was, the Island could only gather it together. There were rules to be followed, after all, even for the kami. They could ready the body, but the spirit would have to come of its own accord. Without that, all they could do was wait and be ready.

The silver-one was not really alive, but not dead either. As more of its body gathered in one place, it began pulling together of its own accord. The kami did not know, but the silver-one had been designed to heal itself, and it was only the distance of its parts that prevented it. The essence of that self had been scattered, but slowly, as more and more of it joined together, it began to call back pieces of itself all on its own.

When the human who had walked with the silver-one returned to the tree the first time, it was still gathering, so the time was not right. The human had left two things at the tree's base, and then gone away. The kami could feel the sadness in the human, so it had kept those things safe as best it could while it worked its limited intellect around the problem. But now, the kami was ready, and the silver-one had been gathered. And the human had gained the attention of more than the local spirits when she had clapped her hands twice in the traditional greeting before prayer. The one-who-was-of-earth-but-walked-like-a-human had heard as well, in its half-aware, near-spirit state. The time was right, and the tree kami asked the blessing of the Kami of all Kami, that it would do It's will.

And what better use for its stored power could there be than to aid the ones who had saved it and the entire Island?

Deep, ancient warmth suffused its wood and bark, causing the snow around it to sublime and boil away.

There was a blinding flash of unseen light from the noon sun.

There was thunder without sound.

And when the shockwave dissipated, there was a tumultuous roar, as though someone had thrown wide the floodgates of a great river.

.o0O0o.

I sit up, my ears ringing. What was that? My vision is clearing now, but I'm still seeing spots. I went rolling backward quite a ways, I think, when whatever it was exploded. And the noise! Kami, what if we really did miss one of those-

I cut off that thought. There is no way we didn't get all of them, and if we had missed one of them, we'd be dead already. Blinking to clear my eyes, I look around to see what might have happened. Tenmaru is barking, I can just barely hear him over the ringing in my ears. Gah, my head hurts! I think I hit a rock turning my tumble. I glance over at the tree...

Kami-sama! It's like it was struck by a bolt of lightning! There is a massive crack running straight down the middle, exposing the steaming hot wood within. Is that what happened? I check with my hands to see if I'm bleeding anywhere. I might not feel a splinter if it hit me in the right places. My mittens come away clean, and I don't have any bruises on my head. But if I didn't hit a rock, why do I hurt so much? It's like a headache but all over.

Lightly shaking my head, my neck seems to be fine, if a bit sore. My arms and legs seem fine, but I am covered in snow. I stand up, brushing of my jacket. Tenmaru is still barking, and I can hear better now. He sounds close. It takes me a moment to get my bearings, I'm still dizzy from my tumble over the ground. Oh, there he is, at the base of the tree. I couldn't see it before, my knees were in the w-

Tenmaru isn't alone.

I rub frantically at my eyes, certain that I'm seeing things but praying that I'm not. When I look again, it's still there. A mop of brown, the rest pale, but not quite white. The only other scraps of color are a pink and red pile in front of something that should not exist, but does. Tenmaru stops barking and begins licking instead, like he used to do when I fell asleep while watching clouds.

My knees are shaking. I want to move, to do something, anything, but I'm so afraid that if I make even the slightest sound, I'll wake up and find out this is all a horrible dream, a nightmare to torture me with what I can't have. My vision is getting cloudy again, but this time it's the unshed tears in my eyes. Squeezing them shut tight, I remember her words: be strong, be brave! It takes every once of my will to take that first step. I open my eyes again.

Nothing has changed. It's not a dream!

I stumble forward, tripping awkwardly over my own feet in my hurry. It's absolutely impossible, and yet there it is! I slide to a halt, tears streaming down my face. I can't help but smile through my tears as I look down. Carefully, suddenly afraid again, I kneel down, and put on small, mitten covered hand under the mop of brown hair. Gently, oh-so gently, I lift up, so that I can see for certain.

It's like staring into a mirror.

My breath catches in my throat as the eyes slowly flutter half-open. Brown eyes stare into brown eyes, and I see her lips part. For a moment, nothing comes out but puffs of air, turning white in the cold. Then, those beautiful brown eyes widen, and I cry even harder when I see recognition in her gaze. Tenmaru is quiet now, lying down next to her on her bed of pine needles. I'm doing my best to smile, and I'm so happy I don't know why it's so hard to make my face the way I want it. I remember to breathe, and I whisper, "Hello, Hikaru-chan."

The heart of my heart, the other half of my soul, the mirror of my form, the shining light to my soaring wings, smiles back at me. Her own eyes shimmer with tears, and one of them trails down her cheek as she replies. It's like an angel has come down from heaven to speak to me when I hear those three words.

"Hello, Tsubasa-chan."

Suddenly, we're hugging each other tightly, crying and sobbing, and I never want this moment to end. I never want to have to let her go! Through my sobs, I say, "I thought I had lost you forever!"

She squeezes me even tighter, and says, with a little laugh, "I promised, didn't I?"

I gently pull away, so I can see her face again. Just knowing that I'm not looking into a mirror anymore, that this is real, is enough to make my heart sing with joy! I'm not crying as much anymore, just stray leftover tears. "I missed you so much, Hikaru-chan."

She smiles sadly. "I'm sorry I left you alone, Tsubasa-chan. I didn't want to go, but I just couldn't-"

I put a finger over her lips to silence her. "You came back, that's what matters." In my mind, I'm still worried she'll disappear in the next instant, so I make a decision. I take a deep breath. "I never got the chance to tell you, before, so I'll tell you now."

She looks so cute when she's confused! "Tell me what, Tsubasa-chan?"

"Once, when I was drowning in my own grief, you said I was your everything, your most important person. I didn't realize it until the end, but I feel the same. You're the other half of me, the missing piece of my soul, my shining light. My most precious person." I sniffle. "My everything."

Hikaru's eyes go really wide, then she smiles like her face is trying to break in half, despite the tears raining down anew. "Tsubasa-chan!" We're hugging again, crying again, holding each other so tight it almost hurts, but that doesn't matter, because we're together again.

And this time, I'll make sure we're never torn apart.

.o0O0o.

Author's Notes:

And there it is, a happy ending.

Knowing that Hikaru had died, and the series was over, was one of the most upsetting endings to an anime that I'd ever seen. I can understand doing it that way, and even see the opportunities for later growth because of this sort of loss, but I still didn't like it. So I sought a way to set things right, to get the ending I would have preferred. I won't claim to be a professional scholar of Shinto Buddhism, the religion of Japan, but I have learned enough from the general Mythology course I took in college to make a good-faith gesture towards correctness. The mention of other faiths was something I felt compelled to add, and should not be taken as important.

It's tempting--oh so very tempting--to leave it here, and call it done. But much as I felt compelled to write the first part of this, so do I feel compelled to write a bit more. This is the logical stopping point: from here, the reader can easily imagine what would come next. But as long as I'm imagining what could come to pass, I might as well write it down, eh? I feel very privileged as well, because the first review for this story pointed out that My Missing Half is the first Figure 17 fanfic to ever be posted to FFnet. It is likely to be the only 'first' I'm going to get around here, so I'm proud to wear that award. Now, I only hope more people will read it.

As of the initial posting, I've gotten a review. I expect that number will grow a bit as time passes, since anyone looking for Figure 17 will have sharply limited choices. Since I'm at work, I don't have access to my regular mail, and thus can't check to see if there's been anything else. I've decided to allow anonymous reviews for a while, to see if that does anything, but I would like to thank Magma-Dragoon for the thoughtful review. I agree that it is an odd coincidence, and I was surprised when I found no other fics here, given that the series aired on TechTV back when I was in college. Hopefully this will be the beginning of a trickle of fics in this category. Originally, I was going to post the first bit, more of a prologue than anything, and then this piece, and be done. But as stated above, I feel compelled to write more. I'm not sure what the result will be, since I can see myself writing about the year without Hikaru, and writing about what happens after she comes back, depending on whether I'm looking at this with darker or lighter moods.

For now, I'm going to go with the option of pressing forward. How far that goes, I have no way of knowing.

But it's sure to be quite a ride, and I hope my readers will enjoy it along with me.

-Natimus Prime, Author