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This is the seventh and last part of Misha's arc in 'After the Dream', my post-Lilly-neutral-end mosaic.
It gets harder to follow Misha's non-linear musings; I think this piece centres around 2064 and has flashbacks.

This part probably comes before Rin's arc here and then joins it here at the end; the last part comes after this part of Shizune's arc.


Misha 7: Rebirths (T +40)

My life has been all about dying and being reborn. Each time I invented Misha, I lost Misha again. But wait, you know I’m Misha! I’ve also been Shiina Mikado, and later, Shiina Kobayashi when I took my mother’s maiden name for my own. And here I am, with the name my beloved Shicchan gave me. It is the name I will carry to the end.

Although author-san’s given up on really telling a story, since I haven’t given him much of one to work with, there’s an end to whatever I want him to tell. And I’ve decided, late in my old age and soon not to be anything, that I’ve found a good place to end it.

So, reader, whoever you are: if you want a good story, read Hana-chan’s. She could always write, and she always tells the truth. The others in the Archive, it’s hard to say. Shicchan was always hard to read, refused to give interviews most of the time. When I saw her die, I know she died happy—there was a smile on her face—but I still don’t know what she was happy about, all those years ago.

Here are the last bits of my non-story. I apologise to author-san first, because it makes him look incompetent, and then to all of you, who might have expected more. But I’m old, and I’ve lived with Rin-chan a long time, so that should explain a lot of things.

*****

It’s decades ago. We’ve all just left Yamaku, and I’m spending time by myself in Tokyo just before I go off to America. That’s when I see the signs for the Tezuka exhibition, and I figure haha!~ there’s an interesting thing to see!

So off I go, and it’s what I expect. The paintings are full of body and light and strange mixtures of real and not-so-real. She uses colours I can’t name, and shapes that make me squint. But here and there are the people of Yamaku, little pieces of us. There’s even a little version of me with pink drills that go everywhere in the painting! I don’t know what it means, but I can guess.

There’s no sign of Rin-chan though. I look around, and I feel uneasy. The art gallery lady is too busy with her art critic friends to talk, but I find Nomiya-san, the crazy art teacher, and he sort of recognizes me and tells me where to go.

I press the tiny old-fashioned bell-button at the bottom of the stairs. I hear a faraway ding-ding sound. Then, feeling a little silly, I walk up the narrow staircase. It’s dark and smells of old buildings and old paint.

At the top of the stairs is a statue of a cat, about up to my waist. It’s mounted on a square block with claw-legs and looks down the stairs, as if it’s keeping watch. The small landing has a simple mat on it for wiping one’s feet. Nervously, I knock on the door.

“Come in. If you want. Or not,” says a deadpan voice that I recognize.

I cautiously turn the knob and push the door open. I’m surprised to see Rin’s big eyes looking at me from one side of the entrance.

“Hi-hi, Rin-chan!~” I say, greeting her with as big a smile as I can make.

“Yes. Getting there. Misha.”

There’s a funny smell in the room, which seems to be full of smoke. Is her room on fire? Everything looks weird and dangerous! They say paint fumes can explode.

“Are you okay, Rin-chan?”

“Is Rin okay? If I were not Rin, I wouldn’t know. I wonder if I’m Rin today.”

“Errm,” I say, feeling a bit out of my depth.

“Are you my friend? If you are, you should know if I’m Rin or not.”

“I think you are,” I say, trying to keep my smile. What have they done to her? Rin-chan was never this confusing! Or maybe this is how she is when not in school.

“Oh. Good. I seem to forget a lot of things these days. Everything looks brighter, though.”

On impulse, I step forward and give her a hug. She’s cold, even though it’s not so cold outside.

“That is nice,” she says. “It feels like what friends should do. But I’m not good at that, so I can’t be your friend. Sorry, Misha.”

I look around and see an old maroon shawl on a table. I grab it and wrap her shoulders up in it. Poor Rin-chan!

“What have you been doing, Rin-chan?”

“Painting. I think.”

I try to get her to eat something, but she won’t. And that smoke is getting to me. So I tell her I’ll be right back, and that’s the start of a few days in which I bring her sandwiches and make her promise to eat proper meals. I’m a bit upset that nobody is helping to look after her, but I’ve got to leave soon, and there’s nobody in Tokyo now that I know. So I email Shicchan and Hicchan. Then I quietly throw out Rin-chan’s stash of foul-smelling herbs and hope for the best.

Heh, author-san, that’s not what I told you last time, but Rin-chan said it’d be okay to tell the rest.

*****

The Yamaku girl who was Misha? You’d never recognize the quiet version at Gallaudet in DC. I studied hard and made very few friends. And when I thought I’d found love, or even affection, I thought of Shicchan. I thought of people who still spent time with me by email and video chat, and I thought of families, and I felt home-sick. But I worked through it. I tried to work it out.

“Hey, Shiny…”

That’s what she calls me, this brown-haired loose-limbed girlfriend, who’s with me on a warm DC night.

“… what’s on your mind?”

“Sometimes I’m thinking of home, Jen-chan.”

She’s spooning me from behind. It’s my favourite position, because I’m warm, and comfortable, and I’m not being stared at and I don’t have to stare at anyone. Her hands are cupping me, but for once, her naughty thumbs aren’t moving.

“That photo on your desk? With two other people? Which one? Or both?”

“Awww, Jen-chan. Let’s not talk about it. Makes me sad.”

“It’s the one with blue hair, isn’t it? She’s cute.”

It doesn’t work out this time. Because sometimes the sad is bigger than the happy, and Misha hates feeling sad.

*****

And wouldn’t you know it, when fate says Shicchan and Hana-chan are coming over to America for further studies, I get one summer with them and then I get sent to Europe. I’m a translator at the UN, and that’s what we do. It sucks to be Misha! Sadface!

Something terrible happens to me there a few years later, but I’m not going to talk about that anymore. In the end, Shicchan’s father persuades me to go back to work, which is a story of its own. But that’s why I end up spending a weekend of fun with Hana-chan one summer in Edinburgh!

Yes, author-san, I did say I hadn’t seen Hanako for a long time, but this one hardly counts! Besides, it was about ten years. No, it wasn’t? Oh, Misha’s sorry she gets the dates mixed up. Not everyone’s like you, author-san!

“H-hello! Is that Misha?” says the unfamiliar number with the familiar voice.

“Hana-chan! Haha!~ it’s so nice to hear from you! What’s happening?”

“I’m on my way to Edinburgh! L-Lilly’s opening another restaurant, and she’s invited me. She said to bring a f-friend, so I thought of y-you?”

She sounds a bit shy about this. I’m so touched, though! Hana-chan is thinking of Misha as a friend to bring along! Aww.

“Sure! When? So exciting!~”

“N-next week? Can you meet me in Paris or London? Then we’ll fly up t-together!”

Now she sounds excited too. It’s always fun to be spending summer in some place I’ve never visited before! Better than The Hague.

And that’s why I’m at the opening of ‘Tapestry’, Lilly’s Catalan tapas restaurant near the Royal College of Surgeons. It’s there that I realize what Lilly and Hanako are keeping from each other. Oh dear, Misha!

“Yeah, you see it too, huh?”

I start. Oh! It’s Lilly’s elder sister, the one with the striking features.

“Hello, Akira-san!”

“Akira’s fine. Let’s go get ourselves a drink round the corner. It beats watching Lils and Hana tiptoe around the guy they left behind. Kinda silly, but I’m fond of them and this always gets me. It’s been more than ten years, dammit!”

Some drinks later, she tells me, “Don’t leave it too late, Misha. If you’ve got people you love, go see them. Talk it out. Make sure it isn’t your fault in the end!”

She sounds a little sentimental, like something bitter is eating at her. It’s enough to make Misha shed a tear! Poor Akira. I wonder what her love-life has been like.

We end up holding hands before they close the bar. She looks me in the eye and says, “Yeah, we both need a warm hug. Not gonna do anything we’ll regret, though. You’re a nice person, Misha, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. You’re also more drunk than I am, so I’m gonna call a cab, take you back to the big place, and tuck you in.”

It’s then that I realize our phones on the bartop have got lots of missed calls on them. We have been missed! [Sorry, got lost, found myself again! See you back at the house!] I send to Hana-chan. And the rest of the night’s forgotten when I wake up the next day.

*****

What do you mean, what else have I not told you, author-san? I’ve not told you so many things! I mean, you live to my age, there’s too much to tell and then you forget most of it already! But I’ve only got two more parts to tell, and then I’m done. You can finish up for me. Thanks! Haha!~ poor author-san.

The last two parts include deaths, dear reader. Now, you know Misha’s not the sort to enjoy sad events, but if I’m going to get to the end, you might as well see some endings, yes? All good? Haha… okay, we’ll try to make this feel better.

Besides my lovely Shicchan, and my own mother, there were really only two other women in my life. And here is the beginning of 2064, my worst year ever.

*****

It’s freezing in January in Edinburgh. As Akira used to say, if she had stuff hanging below, it would’ve frozen off. But now she’s not got much to say. Akira also used to say something about the quality of life depending on the liver. And now she’s not got much of that.

Oh, Misha, so hard to be here, I’m saying to myself. But it’s got to be harder for Lilly, my old friend whom I’ve not really been in touch with for a long time. She’s trembling, and while we’re all turning seventy-five this year, she’s an old seventy-five. Still beautiful though, her long white hair’s so rich and full!

Akira’s been fighting a long time, but the crab in her liver has won. There’s no time! There’s never been enough time in Misha’s life.

“Lils, you don’t need to keep holding my hand. Give Misha a chance, lass. I’ve mished Missa. Or something of that kind.”

Her grip is still strong. We’ve done so much together, just friends, lonely people sometimes with nobody else. But I’ve had Shicchan for company for a long time. And that’s when I see the broken look on Lilly’s blind face.

Akira’s really all the family she has left. So, very gently, I kiss Akira on the forehead. Then, quietly, I put her hand on Lilly’s. And hold them both.

Akira grins at me. “Yeah.”

Then her mouth twists, and she says something truly vulgar before the light goes out in her eyes. I know she’s gone, because her hand just lets go. I want to hug Akira one last time, but I let Lilly do that. Misha? Well, Misha has something else to do.

I let myself out into the corridor. Hideaki and Hana-chan are waiting outside, because Akira had asked only for me. I look at them silently, but they already know from the sobbing that it’s over.

I say to my friends, “Hey… Bring Lilly back to Andorra after this. She won’t last one more summer here. She’s got nothing left except you both!”

You can tell I haven’t got as much energy as I used to have. But I’m Misha! And this is my idea, worked out with Shicchan over the vidphone the night before.

They agree. The irony, to me, is that Lilly lives another ten years over there! My Shicchan is dead in four months.

*****

We are celebrating her 75th birthday when her vital signs just stop. There’s a smile on her face, but nothing else. The Hakamichi emergency team swoops in, and all the festivities are efficiently brought to an end. It can’t end this way, I say to myself. But it has, myself says to me.

“Aunty Misha?”

It’s Akira, Hisao’s son. His usually alert, happy face is now creased with worry. In the background, I hear his sister talking to somebody about blood thinners and bleeds. Don’t I deserve any happiness? I ask myself this, while not saying anything. Even my tears are locked up in me. It’s too much! If I cry now, I’ll pour like a river into the sea and be lost.

I think that with Shicchan gone, maybe I’m his mother. It makes me want to laugh, but my usual laughter here will be ghastly, morbid.

“Na-chan,” I begin, using his old nickname, “Aunty Misha is not fine, I think my life is over, but otherwise, it’s okay.”

I cannot believe I have so much self-control. Maybe Misha has learnt a lot over the years! What a sad victory. I’m controlling myself so much that over the next few days, the media stop calling me ‘Shizune Hakamichi’s partner’ and start calling me by my proper name.

It doesn’t make Akiko happy. Akiko, Hisao’s daughter, loves me. She shares a taste for parfaits and funny hair. But she’s never quite liked Shicchan, and that’s always made me sad.

What makes me sadder is that we have a big fight at home about who’s going to do Shicchan’s eulogy. I win, and Hana-chan will do it. I can’t do it, but Akiko doesn’t understand. I really can’t. I only want to tell Shicchan how wonderful she was, not tell everyone else. Hanako can do it. She’s good at that.

There’s nothing left to care about, really. So on the last day, I get myself off the grid. I use Shicchan’s privacy codes, the ones we’ve shared for many years, to make myself invisible to almost everyone. And I ghost the funeral, saying my own goodbyes and leaving before Hana-chan begins the magnificent tribute that she’ll undoubtedly deliver.

I don’t want to see my dearest Shicchan made into ashes, the ashes placed in a little black urn, the urn placed in what’s now the protected Hakamichi memorial complex. So before the circus arrives, I go there first, to talk to my old friends as usual.

The night air’s surprisingly cold when I leave the Academy grounds in the stealthcar. It knows my destination; I’ve spent a lot of time there because I promised long ago that I would stop by and laugh and say hello. I think one should visit old friends even if they’re not there anymore. You feel cleaner for the act of empty ritual.

It’s only when I’m entering the memorial complex that I realize I’ve been followed. Who could possibly do that? The car tells me: [Unknown HI-ID. SC5, locked on]

Well, it’s the same kind of car I’m in, and I thought I had one of the very few left. I think that’s when I guess who it might be.

I’m already at the little cluster of markers—the Ibarazakis and Hisao, all together—when the other ghost steps out of darkness.

“Misha?”

“Rin-chan,” I reply, not sure if I should be happy, but glad for the company. It means a lot to me, so I add, “Thanks for coming.”

She takes me by the hand. It is odd, that. For years, Rin-chan had no arms, even. Then she was persuaded to accept Hakamichi prosthetics. We’ve all got used to that, but it’s still strange to me.

It’s only when we sit next to the stones, and she puts her arm around me, that it all comes out. I find myself crying into Rin-chan’s shoulder, and telling her everything about Shicchan and me and why Misha’s life was so useless.

I am surprised when Rin-chan actually makes sense. She tells me I’m not a failure, and explains why. And then she asks me to go back to Osaka with her.

After that, reader, Misha lives happily ever after! No, author-san, you don’t get to tell the last part, how I eventually die and all that sad stuff you write as ‘closure’. My ending’s a happy ending, and I am still happy, and I will never forget what everyone used to say: “Rin? With Rin, you never know!”

So, for Shicchan, and Akira, and Hicchan, and to all my friends now and from long ago, this aged person has only one deed left to do. Let this be the last thing that you hear from me, born Shiina Mikado, now and forever Misha Hakamichi.

“Wahaha!~”

=====
prev | end | a little coda

I fully approve of the Misha and Rin friendship ending -- especially a happy one with lots of parfaits!

Seriously, I've loved all the arcs -- but I think this is the best one.

Oscar Wildecat wrote:I fully approve of the Misha and Rin friendship ending -- especially a happy one with lots of parfaits!

Seriously, I've loved all the arcs -- but I think this is the best one.

Thank you very much!

However, to agree with you would be to invite the (haha!~ surely not unwanted, author-san? awww, Misha is sad!) attentions of a number of otherwise charming characters each with their own ideas of narrative to pursue…

Yep. Very nice! Ow... my heart. I think it needs a rest.

In particular, it was really interesting throughout the arc how Misha told past events as though she were there, but with her older/mature PoV narrative (it even threw me off once or twice, and I had to wait a little while to make sense of it!).

Hotkey wrote:Yep. Very nice! Ow... my heart. I think it needs a rest.

In particular, it was really interesting throughout the arc how Misha told past events as though she were there, but with her older/mature PoV narrative (it even threw me off once or twice, and I had to wait a little while to make sense of it!).

I'm glad that you liked it! My heart needs a rest too, actually. (Misha, please stop laughing over there!)

The narrative structure is difficult to maintain when your narrator comes by and says, "Hey author-san, write about this part now?" and is also someone hard to resist. (Wahaha!~ You're too kind, author-san!)

Bravo. Interesting how she thought of herself as a side character, even though she had an amazing story to tell. Pretty sad though, but bittersweet overall. Abusive father AND getting raped!? ugg... You sure like making fictional character's lives somber, author-san.


Why I like Misha is that somedays, I can honestly say to myself: wait, I'm Misha...

Frankyo wrote:Bravo. Interesting how she thought of herself as a side character, even though she had an amazing story to tell. Pretty sad though, but bittersweet overall. Abusive father AND getting raped!? ugg... You sure like making fictional character's lives somber, author-san.


Why I like Misha is that somedays, I can honestly say to myself: wait, I'm Misha...

Oh dear, I hope I didn't tread on your toes too much? Thanks for this comment; I'm glad you found enough in this to call it 'an amazing story'!

[Frankyo called you author-san too! Wahaha!~ actually, author-san, thanks for telling the story without too many awful details…]

"Wahaha!~"

Oh gods, not again. I'd just dozed off with some of Mutou's fine 12-year Glenfiddich in me.

"Author-san! See, I knew it all along but Shizune never believed me until it became too obvious to ignore!"

"Ah, Misha, aren't you glad I kept your secret safe until the right time?"

"Yeah, the big man deserves his spotlight… but, author-san, aren't you happy I'm back?"

She somehow manages a pirouette, her flouncy white skirt flaring out and knocking over my meagre stack of name cards. I can't help but smile.

"Welcome back, Misha. Any other tales you're willing to share?"

"Respected author-san… ~" she twinkles at me impishly. "Shizune said it was about time you exposed her brother."

"Ha! Shizune squeezed me into 6600 words and refused to let me write more about her. Could you ask her for another 4000?"

She kisses her knuckles and blows me a kiss. Sigh. What a girl.

"I heard that thought, author-san! Ciao!~"

Sunrise on Mount Aoba (2063)

I have strong but scrawny fingers. I reflect on this as I look at hers, which are nicely-rounded, not long and graceful but well looked-after. This is a good sign, a sign of someone healed and whole. After all these years, she is still a bit disorganized, and sometimes the brightness that surrounds her overwhelms me. But it has been a long time, and we are older now.

When she walks into my office, she brings happiness. I don’t care about how big the office is, or how small, or whether there is shiny wood paneling or not. All I care is that the glossy metal reflects her, the glass adores her, that things are in order so that she can flaunt her disorderliness.

One thing remains traditional. The tap-click-buzz of modern electronics, I hate it. And I don’t need it in my space, especially not at this particular time.

— Ms Kobayashi, what brings you to my office today? You're very early.

She likes it when I use the family name she adopted decades ago. It’s her mother’s name, and it has made her free.

— Haha! It’s the same thing that brings me every day! I’m your personal secretary and there’s always something fun to talk about!

— No, no, you are not this one’s personal secretary, you are this one’s better half.

She turns a little serious.

— Well, that’s not likely to happen, is it? And sometimes, I’m not sure if you haven’t had better halves better than I am, but I’ll take what I can get.

She comes over to my desk and sits on it, swinging a leg playfully.

— Act your age! We can’t afford to be falling off tables and chairs anymore, someone will have an accident and the insurance will be hell to settle.

— Really? Even when I use your pet-name in this way that I use it? And use my foot to tickle your thigh in this way that I do it? Haha! You always respond the same way!

I’m holding her hands now, my ugly thin scrawny fingers and her beautiful ones, firmly interlocked. I know the door is sealed. We have a beautiful view down the mountainside, or at least she has, over my shoulder. We have many beautiful memories as well.

— How are the children today?

I can only 'whisper', because my voice is being constrained significantly.

— Mmm. Not children anymore. Summer-girl is still polite to me, and Bright-boy was telling me about the fun they’re having up near Montpellier.

It’s regrettable that Summer-girl still dislikes me. I wish things had been better between us. Bright-boy, he’s my favourite, just as he was Emi Ibarazaki’s.

I stroke her hands.

— I like your fingers, always have.

She does? I don’t know. Over time, they’ve just become bonier. Maybe I still work too hard. I spend too much time watching my Diet. Those lazy politicians… but the world we worked for, it’s coming to pass. Too late for some people, too late for Naomi Inoue, too late for Miki Miura, but it’s almost here.

I know something very few people know. They’ll be passing the new law at the next session of the Diet. I’m too old to be excited, but I am anyway.

I let go of her hands and reach under a still-plump leg. The leg tenses, her skirt sliding softly over my arm as she moves, curious as to my intentions. The warmth from her reaches my heart, which for decades has never had problems dealing with it.

I look up into her eyes, while my hand deftly looks for the secret spot that unlocks the hidden compartment in my desk. Her leg moves aside completely and swings to cross over her other leg, her stockings whispering against each other.

— You’re up to something!

I can’t properly reply to that at the moment. Not properly, anyway. Ah. Got it. The package, delivered from Mumbai Nanotech just days ago.

I mumble something, waving one hand in the air.

— Fine, I’ll wait until… you didn’t. No.

I show it to her, in its little box. As always, words can’t say much. The seeing of things is what there is. And the touching, more so. The intricately woven single molecular structure of hybrid metals and other elements that will bind one to another. It flashes brilliant sparks in the morning light.

— I know it is long overdue, but I’ve always been a stickler for the law. The law is changing very soon. Ms Kobayashi, will you marry me?

It is fifty-five years, five months, five weeks, and five days since we graduated from Yamaku. I’ve counted. I’m good at that. It’s on the little note I wrote and put in the box.

Her mouth moves. I can feel her giggling against my body. I look at her, her beautiful hands.

— Shicchan! Why so formal? Of course I will. It’s been… almost forever!


*****

Editor’s Note: Shiina ‘Misha’ Kobayashi (formerly Mikado) and Shizune Hakamichi were married on 1st January 2064 at a private ceremony on Mount Aoba. They had known each other for nearly sixty years, but only a small group of their closest friends and relatives were able to attend. This episode thus occurs just a few months before the end of this part of Misha's story.

brythain wrote:I spend too much time watching my Diet.

Taken out of context, I'm not sure if you mean the Japanese Diet or some sort of special diet Shizune is on...

Serviam wrote:

brythain wrote:I spend too much time watching my Diet.

Taken out of context, I'm not sure if you mean the Japanese Diet or some sort of special diet Shizune is on...

She's on a diet of Diet, spending too much time with politicians.

Congratulations on yet another truly wonderful arc, I've loved it through and through. Made me sad knowing about Misha's turbulent and horrific past. I would say "Thank you, author-san", but you're more than an author. A creator of love, joy, sadness, anger, hope and fear. So Thank you, Puppeteer of mankind's emotions.

Looking forward to starting the other arcs later today.

YutoTheOrc wrote:Congratulations on yet another truly wonderful arc, I've loved it through and through. Made me sad knowing about Misha's turbulent and horrific past. I would say "Thank you, author-san", but you're more than an author. A creator of love, joy, sadness, anger, hope and fear. So Thank you, Puppeteer of mankind's emotions.

Looking forward to starting the other arcs later today.

Ah, you're very welcome! I'm curious though, in what sequence are you reading the arcs?

I started with what you have of Kenji, went through Lilly's, just finished Misha's. I plan on going through; Emi, Rin, Shizune,and Hanako; respectively. Then working my way through the second layer. There is no method to my madness, just whichever one I find most interesting based on prior routes you wrote, is the way I'll go. .

YutoTheOrc wrote:I started with what you have of Kenji, went through Lilly's, just finished Misha's. I plan on going through; Emi, Rin, Shizune,and Hanako; respectively. Then working my way through the second layer. There is no method to my madness, just whichever one I find most interesting based on prior routes you wrote, is the way I'll go. .

That's very interesting! I myself have never gone that way before.