Reverie and Nightmares

Epilogue

"Mama! Papa! It's getting too hot so I will turn on the AC!" The young girl with golden locks said. She'd sported a visible scar that looked to be one of her almost close to birth, almost as if she'd been born with it, but that wasn't the truth. Her parents knew that it wasn't the truth. "Ruri! Are you going to feed the cats?"

"I will! Just, uh. Please wait for me, I'm preparing the Pop-Tarts! I'm hungry, and I can't wait for the cake." The small boy groaned. His hair was closer to a dirty blonde, almost as if one of his parents were biologically brunette in nature but the other completely blond. "It's going to be so cool! I can't wait!"

The two twins ran across the living room, almost bumping their heads into each other. They tackled with their arms and legs with excitement, their tenth birthday party making the day more than just eventful to them.

They'd grown up knowing that once you turned ten, you could make one wish, and it'll happen as easily as you said. At least, that was what the cool kids said in the neighborhood. Their mother, her hair done in a ponytail, looked around the plates, hoping she could find china the size of the biggest cake she'd ever baked for her children's special day; after all, she was celebrating for two on the same day.

She faintly looked at the backyard, the long trees reaching nearly the clouds, and smiled, but her hips shook with trembles as her fingers slipped with grease, shattering the plate into a million pieces. She lowered her shoulders, took a deep breath as she did it, and began scraping it across the scooper to prevent future accidents. Along with the clean up, she'd stumbled past the jar she once held for cookies for the twins, but after finding a place for the remains of her first butterfly bow, she sheltered the fabric there.

"There, there. You're doing mighty fine now. I... Thank you, Dad. Thank you for being the man you were."

The blonde little girl tugged at her mother's long skirt, nearly ripping it. "Momma, why did you replace the cookies with that? It's ripped, so why do you care so much about it? You have another one right on top of your head!"

"Oh, that? Your father gave it to me so long ago. By the way, where is he? Is he outside reading by the shade again? Or is he out with Reiji?"

"Oh, Uncle Reiji isn't here yet, Mom! Dad wrote that he's coming in later for the party, booked a flight to California, and is coming to L.A. later today. He said he might not be here for the pinata. And Dad isn't reading right now. He's playing the piano!"

"Don't worry about him; your aunt Kurumu will tell him to pack faster. They're both coming together today. Maybe I should tell your dad to see him?"

The young boy nibbled on his small Pop-Tart, talking with his mouth full. "No! I want Dad to stay here today... And besides, it's a little tough to help him with the wheelchair."

Mikan sighed and brought her attention to the window where their homemade playground was, hoping to find him sprawled on the ground reading another book despite having seven to read simultaneously, but he was not there. Instead, she'd heard the tune of an old piano singing from the living room where they had their piano and trumpet.

"Alice, can you check if your dad is playing the piano again? And can you ask him if he wants to eat the steak from yesterday? Thanks, cutie." Mikan said. "He's been playing too much, even though his next concert is in four months, but he's still trying too hard."

Mikan kissed her on the forehead, the young girl giggling with the tenderness of warmth. Ruri pouted, hoping Mikan would kiss him too, and so she did after a chuckle.

Once she knew the two had left the kitchen, Mikan sighed, opening an envelope that Lana had sent to her years ago, not understanding completely what it meant. It was a letter sent from the sister, but the letter was supposedly sent by someone else. A cultist, from the looks of things, but it was not Canary. She'd remembered her handwriting to be much different when she'd read her lettering on the map to the abandoned church.