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The Yugi twins were lovers of all things space. Stars burned in their hearts, the inky black backdrop of the universe painted their hair, and amber moonlight rounded out their eyes. If there ever was a human body built to be the embodiment of the cosmos, it had somehow split in two and born from it was Amane and Tsukasa.
All of their spare time was dedicated to various activities surrounding space and its mysteries. Amane would read books that were too complicated for either to comprehend in the hopes that he could glean any tiny inkling of new knowledge. Tsukasa would listen to his brother read aloud, all the while drawing or putting together crude lopsided paper sculptures that he hoped resembled whatever Amane was describing.
When they could, they would stargaze, of course. Their backyard was a decent start — a cozy patch of grass beneath their heads as they pointed out constellations and blinking satellites. And when they were called inside for bed, they would quietly pad their way to their bedroom window, whispering to each other where they left off outside.
So when the two had come across a book detailing the astronomical phenomena of the aurora borealis, they devoured everything they could find about it. Pictures and video footage astounded them, and they were quick to share their daily findings with each other. But images on paper and screen could only hold them for so long. Very quickly, they became taken with seeing the northern lights for themselves. The thought that they could see the remnants of sun bouncing through the Earth's magnetic atmosphere with their own eyes was incredibly enticing. So much so that when they heard the forecast of impending aurora just near their home, curious mischievousness got the better of them.
"It'll be fine, Amane!" Tsukasa chirped as he skipped along the sidewalk. He was bundled up in too much winter clothing, puffy and muffled under layers upon layers of fabric. Though, in the middle of the night, it was hard to tell. "Mom and Dad are asleep and we left a note! This could be our only chance!"
Amane was dressed similar to Tsukasa, heavy coats bulking him up as he plodded along uneasily. "That's not true, and you know it," he countered. It wasn't as if the lights were a rare sight, after all.
If Tsukasa made any face at him in response, Amane couldn't tell—not beneath his heavy violet scarf. "Well, it's our only chance right now and that's good enough for me! If you wanna go home and miss it, that's fine. But I'm gonna see it!" he said defiantly, frost crackling under his feet to mimic the electric energy he was exuding.
Something in the back of Amane's mind tugged at him—told him to turn back. Let Tsukasa get grounded for life for sneaking out in the middle of a winter night. There was no reason he needed to take this fall with him. But there was something much louder urging him onward. Maybe it was that unstoppable want to learn as much as possible about the sky above him. Maybe it was the built-up eagerness of the twins' planning of this night making him antsy. Or maybe it was the petty idea that if Tsukasa was going to see the Northern Lights, then there was no way Amane was going to miss out.
Regardless of the reason, Amane embraced that stubbornness and jogged a bit ahead of his brother just to show him that he was there for the long haul. In response, Tsukasa cheekily picked up his own pace, passing Amane. Soon enough, the two were playfully racing their way out into the nothingness of the countryside, almost forgetting their mission in the rush of competition.
The boys zigged and zagged their way into the barren fields, retired for the winter and freshly blanketed from recent snowfall. Their tracks and trails messily disrupted the smooth untouched planes, uneven and wobbly as they pushed through the snow. Ultimately, though, their weaving and winding remained faithfully northbound. When they would reach the edge of one field, they'd climb up the ditch, over the road, and continue chasing each other down through the next tract of land. The pattern repeating and repeating until they would see the aurora.
At least, that's how it would have played out if not for a tackle that sent both of them tumbling to the ground.
Breathless and flat on their backs, Amane and Tsukasa just laid there, indented into the snow. In the still of the night, the wheeze of their heavy breathing was the lone sound for several moments. But just as they were catching their breath, a new noise pricked at their ears. A light and careful sound that neither twin would have noticed if not for the quiet surrounding them.
Synchronized, the boys lifted their heads and turned, both freezing as they saw a wide-eyed girl tiptoeing through the snow.
Having been spotted, the girl stilled, allowing the boys to take in her appearance. She was small, just a kid like them. Her dress was simple, clean, and white and flowed down to her uniquely round ankles. Wide and anxious, her eyes flickered between them, giving both Amane and Tsukasa plenty of chances to be pierced by those scarlet irises. And then there was her hair. Long and silky, it was satisfying in its shine and mesmerizing as it flowed from creamy white at her roots to a gentle green at the ends.
Of course, that was all secondary in observation, made obvious as they blurted out in shocked unison, "Where's your coat?!"
The girl blinked a few times, clearly unsure how to respond.
Tsukasa managed to flip himself over and crawl forward a bit as he continued, "What about mittens?!"
Following Tsukasa's lead, Amane scrambled toward her as well. "And boots?!"
As the twins ambled over to the girl, she stuttered a bit, her fingers twirling a strand of her hair around shyly. "I… I um…" she mumbled.
Barely giving her room to respond, Amane and Tsukasa jumped up in front of her, curious eyes beating into her as she shifted her weight uncomfortably. Amane's gaze floated down to her feet, watching her toes repeatedly curl up and relax again as if she was standing barefoot on a sandy beach rather than atop the frost-hardened soil of a cornfield.
When he felt a chill run up his spine from the sight of her, Amane took one of the three hats he'd managed to slip over his head and slid it onto hers.
Surprised, the girl reached her hands up to feel the pompom sitting on top of her head, which Amane took advantage of by pulling her wrists up and slipping his outermost coat over her arms.
After Amane had wrapped one of his scarves around her neck, Tsukasa caught on and with a big smile, stuffed his mittens over her hands, assuredly missing the thumb holes.
Nobody uttered a word as the boys worked to cover this unfamiliar girl in their extra layers of clothing. Not even the girl said a thing. No protests or questions. Just curious acceptance as she eyed each new piece added to her outfit. Once she was dressed up, the twins each took a step back. The clothes were mismatched and just a bit too large on her, but somehow she made the outfit look cozy as she stood there with her chin buried under Amane's scarf.
As with many things, Tsukasa was first to move forward and he did so with all his energy. His usual grin plastered to his face, he chortled as he tackled the girl into a hug on the ground. And, also as with many things, Amane was quick to chase after his younger brother, shouting out his name scoldingly as he tried to lift him up. But he stopped when he heard a second laugh bubble up from the huddle.
Laying in the snow, crushed under Tsukasa's affectionate nuzzling, the quiet girl had begun to giggle away, her face scrunched in jovial excitement.
And Amane stood there, unsure and absolutely taken by that chiming laugh.
Her name was Nene.
That’s what she’d told them after they’d resumed their trek and shared their own names.
She didn’t offer much more than that, though. There were several questions which were answered only with the thick silence of the winter night and the crunch of snow under their footsteps.
The boys could take a hint and didn’t pursue her further, skipping past their unanswered queries with another question or stories of their own. It didn’t take long for the twins to begin rambling about why they were out in the middle of that frozen landscape.
“So we’re going to go see the Northern Lights for ourselves!” Tsukasa eventually proclaimed proudly.
Fascinated, Nene hummed. “The Northern Lights…” she repeated in wonder.
“Have you seen them before, Nene?” Amane asked.
When she nodded, the twins gasped and one could see the sparkle in their amber eyes as if they were in the presence of a god. “I’ve seen them lots of times,” she said with a small smile. “I didn’t know they were called that, though.”
Tsukasa was practically bouncing as they walked on. “Lucky!” he declared. “We’ve been waiting so long just to see them!”
With a bit of an exasperated glare, Amane pointed out, “It’s been maybe 6 months, Tsu.”
“ So long !” Tsukasa confirmed.
Nene giggled between them, small puffs of clouded breath escaping over her scarf. There was a small stretch of quiet as she looked down at their feet, the rubber of their boots sifting through the snow as they marched on. Then, finally, with a decisive start, Nene leapt forward, breaking out into a run ahead of the twins.
“H-Hey, what–?!” Amane exclaimed as he reached a hand out, but Nene was already rushing away, giggling and bouncing through the field.
The twins stood in shock, watching as Nene took a sharp turn, bounding around the strips of frozen dirt mounded in snow. They would have immediately chased after her if not for the single realization that she wasn’t running away. She was simply… running.
Her laughter echoed mirthfully in the emptiness of the clear, dark night, and she twirled and danced and shouted in front of them as if the stark field was a ballroom. Amane and Tsukasa looked at each other and then back to Nene a few times, making sure the other was seeing the same sight before them. This was especially true when they watched her throw her coat into the air.
And then her hat.
And then a boot.
And then another.
Until all that remained was Amane’s burgundy scarf and Tsukasa’s aubergine mittens.
But at that point, the twins weren’t paying any attention to her clothes. Not as their jaws dropped at the bright ribbons of green glowing from the ends of her hair and spinning and stretching about her path.
With every footstep, Nene pulled another strip of light seemingly from nowhere, letting it whip around its brethren and lick at her back as they all congregated around her.
She was still laughing when she danced her way back to the boys and took their hands, pulling them into a sudden spin.
It took them a moment before they could shed their speechlessness, replacing their slacked jaws with grins and giggles to match Nene’s. But when they did, they joined in with as much fervor as they could muster, jumping and stomping amongst the beams.
“Amane! Amane!” Tsukasa shouted out. “It’s the Northern Lights!”
The elder brother couldn’t respond with much more than an affirmative laugh and a squeeze of his hand, too amazed for words and too out of breath to speak.
It was then that Nene pulled the twins down, yanking the trio to lay with their backs on the ground, still holding each other’s hands.
Chests heaving as a delightful burn sat in their throats, the three watched as the aurora floated up, up, up and into the sky above, forming that familiar sight that Amane and Tsukasa had seen in so many books and articles and had ached to see for themselves.
Finally, there it was.
And it was beautiful.
And she was beautiful.
…And her laugh was gone.
Simultaneously, Amane and Tsukasa sat up, their heads whipping around in every direction as they realized it.
As they realized that, Nene was gone.
Not wanting to take the gift she’d left them for granted, the brothers stayed laying in that field until the aurora faded.
They had watched in concentrated silence, doing their utmost to remember every curve of light, every bend and swirl. The soft flow that they couldn’t help but reach toward, their hands looking for hers somewhere in the air. And when the lights had faded, the soft pink glow of a sunrise still hours away, Amane and Tsukasa rose to their feet and shuffled their way back home. Still holding each other’s hand. Still in silent thought.
When their parents asked about their missing scarf and mittens, the boys shrugged it off. Perhaps they’d lost them at school or left them at the donut shop by mistake. They certainly couldn’t tell them the truth, after all.
It wasn’t until the following winter that they would try to seek out the Aurora Borealis again.
It wasn’t until the following winter that they would return to that barren field, miles from their home.
It wasn’t until the following winter that they would spot a girl standing in the cold, painfully underdressed except for a pair of deep purple mittens, a vivid red scarf, and the warmest smile Amane and Tsukasa ever knew.