Two Halves Whole

by Melissa Abigail

  Table of Contents

  day & night

  cracks along the surface

  the looking glass

  what wonderland looks like

  the glass half-empty

  The way towards peace

  truth & dare

  all falls down

  what the fox said

  into the tiger den

  November 4, 1998

  light shines through the prism

  a note from the author

  TWO

  HALVES

  Whole

  .

  melissa abigail

  Copyright © 2017 by Melissa Abigail.

  All rights reserved.

  Thank you for downloading this e-book. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favourite authorized retailer.

  Disclaimer:

  This e-book is entirely fictional. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For information visit:

  http://www.hafusanshalo.com

  11/2011

  Some say life is suffering.

  I’ve found this to be true.

  Achieve enlightenment, escape the cycle of suffering.

  Seems simple, but I can’t figure out the reason why it is still so hard to do.

  The more I know, the less free I feel.

  CHAPTER one

  day & night

  It's dark.

  Real dark.

  Ryu stared wide-eyed at the ceiling, back flat against a hard, creaking mattress, its thin cotton-blend covers halfway falling into a heap across the floor.

  Wake up!

  Ryu remained still. He knew if he moved too fast, he would forget again, and the dream would drift into the recesses of his mind, a sealed vault to be accessed at random as he slept.

  It’s him.

  Ryu placed a hand on his chest, feeling for the silver pendant there. He didn't know what it was, but at times like this, it put his mind at ease. It was just a useless, albeit cool-looking, bit of metal. The only thing Ryu ever owned, no strings attached. Except literal strings. A chain. And it was the one thing that connected him to a family, a home, and country that was once his so long ago. But this necklace was like this dream—it felt like it meant a lot and yet meant absolutely nothing.

  "Yo, bubblehead! Are you going to turn it off, or am I going to have to do it?"

  Tyler swooped down from the top bunk like a sea hawk. He shot a scathing look in Ryu's direction, then smashed down on the snooze button, like the clock was some offending creature he’d happily annihilate on the spot. Ryu watched through the corner of his eye as Tyler stomped out of the room and down the hall. Only half-awake, Ryu turned his head. He stared blankly at the digits on the clock, seeing shapes and lines, not numbers.

  Had the alarm been ringing? Meh. Who cares.

  Ryu yawned and slouched upwards, his entire body stiff. Another Monday morning. Another week kick-started by a confrontation with the resident psychopath, Tyler Kyojo, who, even if he wasn't actually a psychopath, certainly acted like one. It was how he got the nickname “White Tiger,” after all. Tyler and Ryu shared this room. They shared this huge house along with five others. A house that masqueraded as a group home for boys. Boys who masqueraded as humans instead of weapons. The only peace Ryu ever knew, whether in this house or out of it, was when he was asleep. So long as sleep wasn’t co-opted by yet another dream like the one he’d just had. Somehow, all things being the same, the sensation of a racing heartbeat even when still, the persistent bout of uncertainty… that was new.

  Ryu swung his legs over the side of the bed and stared down at his thigh. He pressed a hand to where it was still bandaged and clenched his teeth, trying not to flinch.

  Two more weeks. Then I’ll remove the bandages, no matter what.

  He lumbered to his feet. Getting ready for school was as basic as getting dressed and eating literally whatever before hightailing it out the house. Sometimes, even breakfast didn’t happen. Ryu's brothers didn't have to travel all the way to the west side of the city as he did. They didn’t venture farther than the nearest public schools. Regardless, in a house of seven boys, it was near impossible to be on time. This morning was no different. As Ryu secured the last button on his uniform blazer, something caught his eye. Resting on top of his dresser was his G-19, safety on and fully-loaded. You know. Just in case.

  Not today, Ryu thought. But tomorrow. I’ll bring it tomorrow.

  By seven-thirty, some of the boys of the house started the walk all the way to their school while the others waited at the bus stop to get to theirs. Ryu hopped in his car, hoping against all odds he wouldn't get stopped for speeding. He was no longer taking public transit, but he still managed to be late almost every day. He could only imagine how bad things would be if it were icy or snowing. Good thing that kind of Canadian weather was scarce in Campbelton, British Columbia.

  Top Forty throwbacks were blasting from the radio as Ryu turned into the student parking lot of Shady Glenn Academy in his black Mazda. He felt some joy reliving a few of the old songs he‘d discovered when he was younger, long before he’d transferred here for middle school. Too bad. The joy was short-lived. Ryu peered through the front window. The four guys were there as usual, stalling until the bell. Just last week, Ryu was one of those guys too. Now they were enemies.

  It had all started with a photo on Cody’s phone, a blackmail-worthy shot of the popular but prudish Haruna Catherine Mitsukai, the Academy’s Head Girl. Ryu wasn’t sure what had gotten him riled up at the sight of the photo. It could have been the bad mood he was in. It could have been the disrespect they’d volleyed his way, insinuating that there was something “wrong with him” because he refused to lust after every girl with a pretty face. Or maybe, for reasons Ryu really couldn’t place, he just hated that they had access to that kind of a photo. Any kind of photo—of her.

  Ultimately Ryu decided the fall-out wasn’t about the photo at all, and that he didn’t care to think about the reasons. He’d had enough of fake friendships with fake people.

  Ryu hopped out of the car and slammed its door shut. Head up, he strutted by the group for the side entrance. He knew they were leering. He was certain one of them had hawked a spit wad in his direction on purpose, though he was too far away for it to touch him. Ryu snapped his head their way, the mighty death glare coming as naturally and as effortlessly as breathing. Tim and Cody flinched and looked elsewhere. Kevin averted his gaze to his phone. Jackson pretended to be very interested in his lighter, flicking it on and off. Ryu snorted. Posers. Paper gangsters. All of them. He pivoted and kept walking.

  “That’s it?”

  Ryu tensed. Jackson. So he’d suddenly managed to grow a pair. Ryu turned, arms stowed in his pockets. “Got a problem?”

  Jackson casually pocketed his lighter. “Pretty rude to pass someone without saying ‘hi,’ don’t ya think?”

  “Okay,” Ryu said, taking a casual step forward. “How would you like your ‘hi’ delivered? By mouth or by fist?”

  Jackson had the edge in height and width, but not much else, and though Jackson was bold, Ryu could read the fear behind his bravado. The others looked on, thirsty, downright ravenous, as though they’d scored front row seats to a UFC match.

  “You wanna start something?” Jackson sneered.

  “It’s already started,” Ryu�
��s line of sight squared with the centre of Jackson’s face, “and it looks to me like your nose could use some straightening out. I’ll rearrange it for you. Free of charge.”

  The others jeered and nudged shoulders.

  The day the friendship with those guys ended, Ryu had been the one to call it quits by breaking Cody Yow's phone, Jackson Noh's face, and Tim Simms' back. Was that an exaggeration? Sure. But one thing Ryu had broken without question was their bond. As a result, they lost their king—himself—and poor mooching Kevin Tsang lost his steady supply of "borrowed" cigarettes. It was a long time coming, anyway. The four guys had pushed Ryu to the brink. And Jackson wanted to be the leader of the pack; so he got his wish.

  Jackson tossed his arms and inched closer. “Hit me again, Debiru. I dare you. My family will sue the living crap out of your—”

  “My what? My dad?” Ryu snarled. The two of them were face-to-face, eye-to-eye, man-to-man. “My dad’s dead, Jackson. Try again.”

  “Not your dad, numb-nuts. Matsumoto.”

  “Go for it, then.” A grin swept along Ryu’s face.“Now that I think about it… doesn’t your dad owe Matsumoto? Something like fifty grand or…”

  Jackson’s mouth quivered open but the words stalled. His skin turned white enough to shame porcelain. “How do you know about—?”

  “You sure you want the answer to that?”

  Silence.

  Ryu offered a salute to Jackson’s newly crumpled face, both confusion and unease transparent on it. Ah, yes. Jackson was smarter than he looked. He knew better than to ask more questions, risk the airing of his father’s secrets—secret debts—in front of everyone else, fellow upper-class, new-money snobs.

  They’re all the same, aren’t they? Prone to embarrassment.

  Ryu glanced to the others and threw up a sideways peace sign. Show’s over, losers. Deuces. Stand-off ended and uninterested in Jackson’s sure-to-be-pathetic comeback, Ryu left. He wasn’t entirely out of earshot when he heard Jackson mumble something, likely some nasty insult in Korean. On another day, Ryu would knock teeth out before taking insults in any language, but nope. Not today. Ryu told himself no matter what, he would be the bigger person. Truthfully, he had more problems than the average seventeen-year-old deserved. He didn’t need four more in the form of these turds. Therefore, he was going to go inside and meet with the last friend he had left in this hellhole of a school. Two months and one more semester until graduation. He was going to make it. Things were going to be fine.

  But then again, maybe they weren't.

  "Hey! You barely made it. Bell will ring in five."

  Ryu shed his thoughts as he watched Seth Jordan approach him at his locker.

  "Guess I'm getting better," Ryu murmured as he began to fumble with the lock.

  Seth grinned. "Oh, good news. I'm meeting Elle's parents."

  Ryu whirled around to stare. "You're kidding? That's good news?"

  Seth shook his head. He scratched at his nose. "Nah, I mean—well, they didn't know Elle was dating anyone, apparently. She kind of kept it a secret. But I guess things are getting serious. She told them over the weekend and they're surprisingly cool with it. So I'm going over there for dinner tonight. Doing it old-school. Gonna buy flowers and everything, make a good impression…"

  Ryu gave a weak nod. How awkward would it be sitting at a massive dining table between two snooty rich people as boring as that girl was? For some reason, the memory of Haruna Mitsukai's grandmother and her stare from the Arctic North seared in the back of his mind.

  He shuddered.

  "Well, good luck with that," Ryu muttered, patting his friend on the shoulder. "Wouldn't want to be in your shoes though."

  Seth rolled his shoulders as Ryu shut his locker closed. The bell went.

  "Well, here's to another day," Seth sighed.

  Ryu half-smiled. "Yeah. Here's to."

  "YOU AND PERFECT MANI BROKE UP? NO WAY!"

  Haruna shrunk in her seat. She peered at the several heads that had directed curious looks in their direction.

  "Wow,” she said, glaring at Tracy Hasan, “do you have to make a scene?"

  Haruna's other friends—Angelique Printemps, who sat on her right, and Gabrielle Hope, who sat directly across from her, simply looked on. Tracy leaned in from across the table, her almond eyes bright, sparkling, and positively wicked.

  "Haruna, this is big news! You actually dumped His Majesty Royal Highness Sir Saint Emmanuel!"

  "Okay, that doesn't even make any sense," Haruna stated dryly.

  "I’m pretty surprised too," said Gabrielle with a nod, in total agreement with Tracy.

  Tracy threw her hands into the air and gave a shrill whoop. "Well, you know what that means. I’m not the only single one anymore!"

  “Tracy, you shouldn't be celebrating this," scolded Angelique before shifting back to Haruna, brows lifted. "Are you sure he didn't dump you, Haruna?"

  Haruna groaned. Really? Sometimes she wasn't certain whose side her friends were on. It had only been a few days since Haruna had ended things with her now ex-boyfriend Emmanuel "Mani" Vangelis. She had allowed herself to wallow in misery for the better part of a day, that day being Saturday. Then, giving in to reason, she got over it just as fast.

  Sure, Haruna had always bragged about how wonderful Mani was, always gloated about how flawless and driven and ambitious he had been. How romantic he was when he whispered sweet nothings in her ear, in French. Sometimes Greek. Sometimes both in a weird combination he awkwardly but aptly dubbed "Freek." Haruna once boasted about how much better looking he was than 99.999 percent of the guys at the Academy, although math-wiz Angelique would argue at length about how that percentage had to be a statistical improbability. Haruna may have also mentioned how grateful she was that he went to an all-boys school so she needn't worry about "competitors." She might have—okay, definitely she had—said all of those things. But maybe she had been wrong. Maybe Mani wasn't perfect at all. He was far from perfect. He was intolerable. Obnoxious. Completely self-absorbed! So Haruna had the right to change her mind about him without being judged or persecuted for it, right? But she hadn't quite adjusted to her newfound "freedom" and already the whole cafeteria would know about it, no thanks to Tracy. Mani wasn't a student at Shady Glenn Academy, which was a very good thing, but he was well-known. Mostly because of his wealthy CEO-turned-city-councillor-father. So Haruna supposed she was going to be the hot new gossip until something more interesting came along.

  Unfortunately.

  Haruna bit into her cherry-vanilla parfait. As her friends continued their chitchat, a group of girls passed their table: an exclusive clique of senior students, well-known, but not for the reasons Haruna had always strived to be known for. Haruna was popular because she was active in clubs and student council. Because she had good grades. Because her late grandfather had founded a major law firm in the city. These girls on the other hand were popular for simply being school royalty, children of top-tier families of West Campbelton. Even in uniform, the same uniform everyone wore, they stood out. Mostly because of the usual things: the perfect hair, Prada shoes, Tiffany earrings, Gucci handbags, Canada Goose jackets even though it was never ever cold enough to warrant one. Haruna noticed one girl in particular shoot a dirty look in their direction. Blinking back her surprise, Haruna glanced to see if her friends noticed. They hadn't.

  "Uh, guys—that blonde girl just gave me the nastiest look. It's not because of the whole thing with Ryu, is it?" Haruna asked.

  A few short weeks ago, Haruna had been forced to work on a major English project with Ryu Debiru, a guy who until that point she actively avoided and actively hated. For good reasons. For one, he was an underachiever, tactless and brutally honest. He had later revealed himself to be kind of a thoughtful, intelligent human being. On the flipside, everyone knew that Ryu didn't date, didn’t talk to any girls at the Academy. So some kids got the wrong idea after he very publicly agreed to meet Ha
runa outside of school for their assignment. That was when Haruna discovered Ryu had a small following of "fans"… of the female variety.

  Angelique and Tracy spun to look as Gabrielle craned her neck to see the blonde girl Haruna was referring to. Tracy circled back sharply. Gone was her impish grin. Replacing it was a grimace.

  "Ugh, no. It's Debbie Caige. Not to worry. She's totally glaring at me, not you."

  "That's Debbie?" Haruna knitted her brows. The girl must have done something different with her make-up… or was it just the blonde hair she’d bleached blonder? Haruna squinted, wondering if her contact lenses needed updating. Debbie was the sister to Arlen Caige, with whom Haruna, Angelique, and Gabrielle shared Mr. Lee's sixth period English class. Debbie and Arlen were supposed to be twins, though from what Haruna could see of her from afar, the two of them looked nothing alike. Not now. Not ever.

  "What's that all about?" asked Angelique, frowning as Debbie and her “entourage” moved off to sit somewhere across the room. "Weren't you friends with her once?"

  It was true. Before Tracy had become their friend, she was friends with Debbie. If she had remained friends with Debbie, she’d be one of those girls too.

  Tracy groaned loudly. Her demeanour shifted.“I’d rather not go into it, but we're both in the Drama Club. She's mad because I was chosen over her for some lead role in a community theatre thing—whatever, no big deal."

  “Tracy, that's huge!" Gabrielle exclaimed.

  "I guess…" Tracy said, picking at her half-eaten deli wrap.

  Haruna shook her head. “And here I was thinking it was one of Ryu's groupies again."

  "Speak of the devil…" said Angelique. Her eyes veered off into the distance. A familiar duo hovered by the door. If it weren't for their navy-blue blazers, green neckties, and dark brown dress pants, the boys might have been mistaken for two lost tourists.

  Eyes glittering like fairy lights, Gabrielle faced Haruna and the others. "It's Seth! Is it okay if I ask him to sit with us?"