Never apart again

Okay, let's do it one last time.

At 3 a.m. in Brooklyn, New York City, USA, Miles Morales was lying awake, unable to sleep. The reason was simple: this afternoon, his twin brother, Milo G. Morales, would finally return to Brooklyn from Los Angeles, all the way across the United States—back to his side.

Perhaps the name wasn’t familiar to the teenagers of Brooklyn, but the adults would never forget: one of the twins of the highly respected Chief Morales, the child who had been abducted by a serial killer for thirty-three days at the age of six.

Miles lay sprawled on his bed, staring at a blank spot on the ceiling that didn’t even actually exist. A wave of excitement crept up his lips, making him let out a few silly giggles before he started tossing and turning again. He threw a few punches into the air, jumped up, and lunged toward his desk, grabbing the photo frame that had been placed there just six months ago. His fingers traced over the figure next to him in the photo.

Every holiday, he would visit his grandparents, going to the side of his other half. In a way, he was more familiar with the route from Los Angeles Airport to his grandparents' house or the psychologist's office than he was with the way to school.

"So... which one of you is the older brother?"

"Technically, we're twins, so there's no older or younger brother—well, actually, we've been fighting over this since we were two or three, and it drove our parents crazy. They still refuse to tell us who was born first."

"Doesn’t that mean your parents told you who was older and who was younger at the very beginning?"

"Dude, we couldn’t even talk back then, how could we possibly remember?"

"Alright, alright, but what did you call each other? I know you just use each other’s names now, but when you were younger, you must have had some cuter nicknames, right?"

"...I have no idea why you’re so obsessed with this? But, uh, it’s simple, we called each other 'Twin'."

Miles didn’t mention that they still called each other "Twin" to this day. Maybe they should discuss changing it in front of others? But "Twin" sounded way cooler than "Brother," right? And he had to admit that he didn’t want to give up this special term, because who else but Miles could call Milo "Twin"？

At the entrance of Vision Academy, a familiar police car pulled up. The crowd fell silent for a moment before erupting into excited whispers. The reason was clear: the center of Brooklyn’s recent gossip was finally about to make an appearance.

Miles, as usual, hopped out of the back seat wearing his classic red AJs, his face beaming like a sunflower. He turned expectantly toward the car, the lively gestures of the teenager with a head of cauliflower-like hair made it impossible not to picture a frantically wagging, propeller-style puppy tail behind him. Moments later, another pair of AJs stepped out, the bold black and purple color scheme immediately drawing attention. Eyes then traveled up to the face that was almost a perfect replica of Miles’, but colder, with two boxer braids at the back of his head. The newcomer scanned the crowd with calm, almost icy eyes, causing many students to shrink back when they met his gaze. Milo then looked at Miles and said in a flat tone, "So, how long are you planning to stand here?"

Milo G. Morales’ debut at Vision Academy certainly made an impression. After all, who would have thought that the famous sunflower boy’s twin would turn out to be such a cool guy? Miles’ classmates—now Milo’s classmates as well—spent their breaks embellishing stories about the twins, focusing mostly on how close they were, how hot Milo’s slight Spanish accent was, how Milo was indeed a bit shorter than Miles and spoke less... and so on. 

The school’s excitement reached its peak during lunch when the twins appeared in the cafeteria. Miles, as usual, greeted everyone he knew, while Milo responded with polite nods, occasionally throwing in a Spanish "Hello" or "Thanks".

Many noticed that not only were their meals almost identical, but even their movements were eerily similar.

The two sat down at a table across from each other, creating what would later be known as the mysterious aura of the twins: Miles animatedly talking, occasionally mixing in a few poorly pronounced Spanish words, while Milo corrected his pronunciation, letting out a satisfied hum after Miles repeated it correctly, and then Miles would continue with his story... Their familiarity made it impossible for anyone to interrupt. When someone finally mustered the courage to say something, the seamless atmosphere would shatter like glass. Even though Miles would still respond with his usual sunny kindness, and Milo would politely turn to look at the speaker, it still left people feeling an inexplicable guilt.

Among the students, and even the teachers and parents, there were many nicknames for the campus celebrities. The most classic was undoubtedly Miles being called "Sunflower"—and now, with his other half by his side, the name naturally gained its unique twin: "Moonflower".

A week has passed, and Vision Academy has finally settled down, coming to terms with the peculiarities between the twins.  

For example, even though they were literally separated at opposite ends of the United States for a full decade, they still share an uncanny understanding, to the point where it feels almost eerie.  

Today is the day Milo visits his psychologist, something he does every three weeks. Miles acts as if everything is normal as he sees Milo off at the door, but as soon as Milo leaves, he anxiously rushes back inside. He grabs his sketchbook only to put it down, turns on the game console only to turn it off, unsure of what else he can do to ease his anxiety. He remembers a few years ago when he went to Los Angeles and happened to find Milo in an extremely bad state. His other half was curled up at the foot of the bed like a small animal cornered by a hunter, completely unresponsive to his calls.  

Miles sat near Milo, yet it felt as though there was an entire galaxy between them. He didn’t dare make any sudden movements, afraid of triggering Milo’s already strained nerves, but his heart ached terribly. Miles groaned, clutching his chest as he collapsed. The rest is a blur, but he vaguely remembers Milo placing his hand on his chest as well, and that simple touch seemed to ease his pain.

Miles keenly noticed the sound coming from the entrance and shouted cheerfully, "Twin! Milo! Are you home?"

The footsteps he had missed for ten years and had only returned for two months approached his door from afar. Miles rushed over and opened the door. Milo was clearly startled by his sudden movement, his eyes widening slightly and blinking rapidly. Miles laughed and hugged his dear other half, contentedly receiving a gentle response. He happily buried his head in Milo's base of the neck, speaking quickly, "You came back so early this time! Did Mr. F let you go so soon? Oh my god did something happen? Twin please tell me you're okay I don't want to be separated from you again please my god—" Milo gave him a light slap, interrupting his jumbled speech.

"Ms. T confirmed that I was pretty much fully recovered before allowing me to come back, okay? There's a reason why our parents sent me to live with our abu in Los Angeles instead of Puerto Rican. If I could find a new trauma trigger in New York, which still has an American vibe, in just two months, mom wouldn’t have paid her so much money."

"I came back early today because everything went smoothly. Mr. F and Ms. T had a phone call, and after that, he said I could start seeing him every five weeks instead." Milo said, gently rubbing his brother's back.

Miles finally relaxed, standing straight and looking at Milo. He noticed that because he was a little bit taller, he had to tilt his head down slightly when they looked at each other, and he couldn't help but show a silly smile. Milo, his twin, of course understood immediately what he was laughing at and without hesitation stepped on his toes. As Miles instinctively cried out and jumped up, Milo walked into his room with the air of a king returning to his palace, sitting cross-legged on his bed. Miles grimaced and shook his poor right foot that had been brutally attacked. His desire for revenge turned into a sweet and sour unfamiliar emotion when he saw Milo tilting his head like a cat, staring at him. He pretended to limp to the bedside and then let out an exaggerated cry of pain as he sat down, all the while keeping an eye on Milo's movements.

Milo sighed helplessly, leaning on his back and pressing him down onto the bed, just like they often did before they were separated, pressing their foreheads tightly together: "Twin..."

Miles felt like he was about to cry.

Good lord, ten years had passed. Even though they met every holiday, Miles had always missed his Milo immensely, always feeling like a part of him was missing. And now, he was finally whole again.

Miles and Milo, the TWIN, two sides of the same soul, two halves of a fruit that fell and split upon hitting the ground.

He vows that nothing would ever separate them again.