Time was not kind to the twins. It went on and on, slipping through the seasons like a silent thief, until it changed childhood itself—until Akira and Vernon were no longer the same once they turned five. Their connection was not something that could be quantified or explained. It had no language. It existed beyond words, beyond logic, and even beyond what most people recognized as the love of siblings. It was an instinct. It was like being pulled together by the earth's gravity.
Between the two, it was Akira who had always been the more powerful one—not only physically, but also spiritually. Even at the age of five, there was something from the distant past in the way he stood next to Vernon, as if giving him protection was not something he could decide but it was a law already written in his bones. He watched Vernon with intense eyes. He noticed every silence, every flinch, and every shallow breath.
Whenever Vernon was ill, Akira didn't close his eyes for a moment.
He literally stayed up the whole nights, with his knees pulled to his chest, and small hands tightly clenched in the sheets, listening to his brother's breathing as if it were the beat of his own heart. If Vernon coughed, Akira became alert. If Vernon moved, Akira leaned even more. Love like that was not possessed by children. It was a love of warriors only.
On the other hand, Vernon was a quiet person—soft-spoken and kept his thoughts to himself. The world affected him heavily. In public places, he used to retreat to the corners while Akira was out there sparkling. Other kids were charmed by Akira's self-assurance, his laughter, and his liveliness. They invited Akira to play with them. They wanted to be friends with Akira.
But Akira never went without Vernon.
Not even one time.
If someone attempted to separate him, Akira would intervene by putting himself before Vernon like a barrier. If someone was laughing too loud, Akira's hand would reach out for Vernon's. If the world was trying to take Akira only, he was not going to let it.
Everything in this world had ending...These twins love also had a day to be ended.
---
DECEMBER 16, 2002
Emili was standing in the living room. One hand was on the curve of her stomach, and the other one was trembling as it was holding the edge of the table. She was crying and the tears were flowing down her cheeks without stopping.
"Kinard... I can't stand your behavior anymore."
Her call of a broken heart. Not from rage but from terror.
"I am eight months pregnant," she went on, her breath catching, "and you are telling me that you have to leave today? To Malaysia?"
Kinard confronted her. Suit jacket was half-buttoned, and he already had the keys in his hand. Exhausted—guilty but still determined was the look on his face.
"You know that anything could happen," Emili said softly. "I am your wife. I am carrying your baby. I am your world."
Her voice turned into a shaky plea. "Surely I need you when I am giving birth to your blood."
Without a word, Kinard came closer. As if he were afraid of hurting her, as if he were afraid she might break, he lovingly wrapped his arms around her. He placed a light kiss on her forehead.
"Come on, sweetheart," he said. "I'm the one who doesn't want to go."
He got away with the kiss only for a moment to see her face.
"For you… I'll be back in a week. I'll let my colleague take over the rest of the business. Just a week."
Very slow and tender he removed the tears with his thumb.
"Only seven days," he said very quietly. "Then, I will be here again."
Emili held him close, her face pressed against his chest. Her eyes were full of anxiety which words couldn't convey.
"I love you," she said in a whisper. "Please… come before time."
Kinard was trying to keep the weight out of his smile. Playfully, he pressed her cheeks between his fingers.
"Alright, little princess," he said, "Alright."
Then, very quickly, he left.
"I'm running late. Bye."
The front door was closed behind him.
Outside, Kinard, got into his car and drove off.
Inside, Emili, was standing still and she could not even manage to breathe or walk. Eight months pregnant and by the sound of a car leaving her was abandoned.
---
The corridor was full of laughter sound.
Akira and Vernon were playing hide-and-seek. It was their small feet that were making the loud sound on the floor as if they were trying to trample the world which was nothing but joy.
"Don't run inside the house!" Emili called out weakly. "You will fall and injure yourself!"
They were just five-years-old—too little to understand what danger was and too pure to feel scared.
"Akira, you cannot hide from me!" Vernon shouted, full of energy, "I will find you!"
He was looking everywhere, under beds, behind curtains, at doors one by one. Then he decided to stop.
"This means that you are…"
The cupboard door was flung open.
"I found you!"
Akira pretended to be shocked and dramatically gasped.
"How do you find me so easily every time?" he asked.
Vernon was smiling, at the same time being proud and shy.
"Because," he said simply, "I know my brother perfectly well."
Akira's smiling was turning into one of a naughty boy.
"Oh yeah?" he said. "Then deal with this."
Without any warning, he was upon Vernon, his fingers were in his side. Vernon could not help himself but to laugh loudly and non-stop with tickles.
"Stop! Stop it! Come on—stop!"
On the ground, they were holding each other, laughter which was filling the corridor sounded like the most beautiful music—pure, authentic, and untainted joy.
Emili was looking at them and through her tiredness, a small smile was making its way out.
"It's really cold," she said softly. "Yet, you two are playing on the floor, my little devils."
"When will the new baby come mama?" Akira asked full of anticipation. "We also want to play with her. Vernon is good at finding me—it'll be fun if there'll be someone else to hide."
Emili burst out laughing.
"She is a girl," she said. "And you boys are going to ruin her in no time with all your games."
Vernon looked up, his eyes big and innocent.
"Are we bad children?"
Emili laughed even more, carefully kneeling down and embracing both boys.
"No," she said with warmth. "You're not bad. You're just not listening to Mama."
She kissed their hair.
"It's nine o'clock. Time for bed."
Akira pouted.
"But we want to play more."
Before she could answer—
The doorbell rang.
Emili was not sure. "Maybe your father forgot something," she said quietly.
She was going to the door, slow and careful.
It was unlocked.
And then—
Three men pushed their way in.
They were big. Broad-shouldered. Tall. Their being completely engulfed the room.
Emili was like a statue.
Her heart seemed to stop for a moment.
"W-who are you?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Behind her, the sound of laughter from childhood faded away.
And the world, silently, started to fall apart.