Between Lives and Identities

A New Journey

You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life. - Albert Camus

It's finally in our main character's point of view, Prince.

Note: This takes place in a different timeline, covering Prince Nicollo Machiavelli's last few days in Japan before he returns to the Philippines. This timeline consists of two chapters.

Prince 

Finally, graduation day. Everyone's taking pictures under the cherry trees, trading uniform buttons, writing sweet messages in yearbooks. It feels weird watching them, like I'm seeing a movie I'm not part of.

Three years of jumping between schools - all because Achi said we needed to stay away from people. Can't really blame him though. When you share one body with someone else, you learn to compromise.

My uniform's still crisp and perfect - all buttons intact, not a single wrinkle. Yearbook's empty too. No 'keep in touch!' messages, no tearful goodbye hugs. Achi always says this is safer. Maybe he's right, but...

Sometimes I wonder if we're really protecting ourselves or just running away. It's hard to tell nowadays where Achi's walls end and my fears begin. We've gotten so good at keeping this balance, this careful distance, that being alone feels normal now. Safe, yeah, but kind of empty too.

The cherry blossoms are falling around me as I hold my diploma. They say sakura shows how beautiful and temporary life is. Kind of fits us, doesn't it? Achi and me, always changing, never letting anything or anyone stick around long enough to matter. Or maybe we're just making fancy excuses for being scared.

This is the path we chose. Or maybe it chose us. No friends to say goodbye to, but hey - we made it through without breaking. That's something, right? Even if it looks nothing like the happy endings happening around us.

But then I step outside the school gates, and that's when it really hits. Parents everywhere, hugging their kids, taking proud photos, crying happy tears. That's the part that hurts the most. My parents... they've been gone for 12 years now. Their death left this huge hole that nothing could fill. I was just a kid, lost and scared, even though we had money. That's when Achi appeared - my mind's way of dealing with all that pain and loneliness.

Everyone thought I'd fall apart after losing them. But I got lucky. Dad's best friend stepped up, brought me to Tokyo to live with his son, Yuan Clyde Watanabe - my Ani-san now. They became my new family when I thought I had no one left.

But then I see him - Yuan standing there with that goofy grin of his. Just when I thought I'd be walking away from graduation alone.

'You look depressed as usual, Prince,' he laughs, and I can't help but smile a bit. Of course he'd know it's me and not Achi right now. Our hair's always a dead giveaway - mine's this messy chaos while Achi keeps it neat and proper. Funny how something so simple tells our whole story.

"I got something for both of you,'" he says, pulling out some presents. My eyes light up at the sight of the complete Tokyo Revengers manga collection. Trust Yuan to know exactly what would cheer me up. Then he shows me the other gift a stack of psychology books for Achi.

I have to laugh. Here I am, a teenager who loves manga and art, sharing a body with someone who'd rather read about cognitive behavioral theories and historical strategies. Achi's like this old soul stuck in our teenage body, more interested in Freud than TikTok. We're literally two different centuries living in one person.

Looking at Yuan holding our gifts, I feel this warmth in my chest. Maybe we don't have parents in the crowd today, maybe we kept everyone else at arm's length, but we've got this a big brother who gets both sides of us. Who knows when I need manga to escape and when Achi needs his psychology books to make sense of the world.

Sometimes I wonder what Mom and Dad would think of who we've become - this weird mix of manga-loving artist and psychology-obsessed strategist. But looking at Yuan, still standing there with our perfectly chosen gifts, I think maybe they sent him to us. Through him, we're learning that not all connections end in loss.

Even Achi can't argue with that.

It's not like you have any friends to say farewell to anyway. Want to grab something to eat? Found a good steakhouse nearby," Yuan breaks through my thoughts with his usual casual warmth.

Sitting in the restaurant, watching the soft lights play on polished wood, Yuan asks, "So, what's your plan after graduation, Prince?"

I take a deep breath, feeling Achi's quiet presence in the back of our mind. "We... Achi and I decided to go back to the Philippines."

"That's new. You two seem pretty settled here in Tokyo. Why the sudden change?"

"Achi wants to look after the business our parents left," I explain, my voice soft. "And we're both planning to take psychology in college there."

"Oh?" Yuan leans forward, interested. "Why psychology?"

I stare at my water glass, watching condensation drip down its sides. "You know... there are so many people out there wearing masks. Not the physical kind - emotional ones. They smile, laugh, act normal, but their eyes... their eyes tell different stories."

My fingers trace patterns on the glass. "Mental health isn't like a broken arm or a fever. You can't see it, can't put a cast on it, can't just take medicine and wait for it to get better. It's invisible, but it hurts just as much - maybe even more."

"Like you and Achi?" Yuan asks gently.

"Yeah... like us. But maybe that's exactly why we need to do this. We understand what it's like to live with wounds nobody can see. To wake up some days not knowing who you are, to have memories that feel like they belong to someone else."

My voice gets stronger as I continue, "I want to be there for people with invisible battles. People who feel broken, different, alone. When someone's struggling with mental health, they don't just need medicine - they need someone who gets it. Someone who knows what it's like to fight demons that others can't see."

I look up at Yuan, meeting his understanding gaze. "Maybe that's why we ended up like this - me and Achi. Maybe our broken pieces aren't just broken. Maybe they're meant to help others pick up their own."

Yuan doesn't say anything for a moment, just nods slowly. He gets it. He always has.

"Mental illness... it's more than just feeling sad or anxious. It's like drowning while everyone around you is breathing just fine. And the worst part? Most people suffering think they're alone in their darkness. But they're not. They just need someone to remind them of that."

I pause, feeling both my own determination and Achi's calculated certainty. "That's what we want to do. Use our experiences, our understanding of living with trauma, of being two people in one body... use it all to help others find their way back to themselves. Even if we can't fix everything, maybe we can at least be a light for someone else lost in the dark.

"When do you plan to return to the Philippines?" Yuan asks over dinner.

"Maybe a week from now," I reply. "But first, there's somewhere special I need to visit."

After finishing our steak dinner, my thoughts turn to tomorrow's visit to the Shimogamo Shrine in Kyoto. This ancient shrine holds a unique meaning for me - it's where thoughts of Achi first touched my heart. What makes it more special is its two parallel paths, perfectly symbolizing Achi and me. Like these paths, we may be different, but we're walking towards the same destination. The shrine, known for uniting different forces, feels like it was meant to be part of our story.

Before heading back to the Philippines and whatever future awaits us there, I'll walk these sacred paths one last time, carrying their meaning with me wherever I go.