A Birthday Party at the End of Everything

News of The Calamity took months to gain traction. It started with a handful of scientists sharing academic papers discussing The End of All Things was imminent. They were ignored. Tremors like murmurs of discontent from within the Earth itself began to radiate across the globe. Gravitational anomalies registered at both poles and chasms of cracks appeared on the moon’s surface. No one paid attention.

Birds fell from the sky. Fish washed ashore. Reality itself began to crack as fissures in time caused severe dilation. Existence started to unravel. Yet still no one reacted in urgency. Politicians, businesses, and religious leaders sat by, focused on profit and the status quo. By the time anyone thought to pay heed to The Calamity, it was too late.

One day It appeared in the sky. The Final Moment’s harbinger. A black, void-filled scar appeared in the sky that reached from Fukuoka to Marrakesh. Like a tear in the fabric of time itself, the sky exposed itself, and within the rip was nothing. No light. No gravity. Emptiness. One moment the sky was normal, the next is was in shreds. Then people paid attention. Then the panic set in. Then the scientists were heard. But it was too late.

Gravity was collapsing, pulling time into complete lessening. Whereas society had thought the galaxy would exist for trillions of years, it was now undeniable truth that existence for all was limited to only a few hundred days at best.

Society began to crumble almost instantly. Panic purchasing eviscerated food supplies in a single day. Riots broke out across the globe. The murder rate increased by seven-hundred percent in a single week. Religions proclaimed it was proof that their god was the true god and declared war on non-believers. Millions died in days. Through it all, the politicians and businesses commanded the populace to stay at their jobs, to stay sitting in traffic, to stay at their cubicles, to stay focused on keeping the status quo moving forward. Economic expansion would be expected until The End.

Homes were seized by those who refused to pay. Dissidents were taken in black vans and never seen again. The masters of the world had decreed that nothing would change. Their arrogance was their end. The populace refused, and within weeks the masses of ordinary people had laid siege on the strongholds of the powerful, and when the blood had dried, none of them were left alive. The shackles of the old world had finally been snapped, and the last days of existence were set to be experienced in liberation.

Concepts like currency, debt, nations, artificial scarcity, and competition were abandoned to the dustbin of history. People around the world realized that with the false pretense of resources and need for never-ending expansion abolished, they were free to co-exist without stress and set about mourning the end of the world in proper revery. Grieving mixed with release, as the pressures of day-to-day existence vanished with the understanding that none of it mattered anymore. It was in this world that Kureha was celebrating her eighteenth birthday in Asahikawa.

It was the first week of March and her birthday was usually very optimistic as it was tied to the end of her school year. In previous years, her birthday parties were acknowledged as the unofficial beginning of spring. But now, as the sky tore above them and rain never fully fell to the ground when it rained, the concept of spring's nostalgic respite from the rigidity of school felt even more melancholy. The world was in its final summer, and the brief moments that would be shared between friends, lovers, and strangers in these remaining days carried the weight of despairing acceptance along with the joy of unfettered release.

Kureha had planned to go to university in Sapporo to study journalism, but the concept of university and homework no longer seemed remotely interesting. Now, on the morning of her birthday, as she sat drinking her morning tea, she reflected on what if anything she wanted to do with her remaining existence allowance.

The TV played its countdown on the bottom right. It was inescapable. Every channel had added it as a somber reminder that there was less than a year left. By the time the scientists had gotten resources to study the time collapse, weeks had passed since the rip appeared in the sky. The final count they’d settled on was 387 days left. Barely even a year. The world would end on March 13th the following year. That was Kureha’s nineteenth birthday.

So there she sat on March 13th this year, weeks after the calculations had revealed existence’s deadline, working through the acceptance that she might not see the next birthday. Thoughts of the veil of reality tearing like paper in a shredder while billions screamed. Would there be screams? Would there be cheers? Would they even notice? Would annihilation and abyss welcome them in a swift and unseen silence?

Would mankind and all creatures great and small even notice as they were all erased? Was a life without a future a life worth celebrating?

It was not a cheerful topic, but it was all she could think of as she sipped her matcha. Tea still being traded and shipped around the world was a quality of life that she was immensely grateful for. In an ironic twist, the automation androids and AI programs that had been created to replace workers were now handling daily tasks around the world. What had been created as profit maximizing threats by a select few were now being used to support the well-being of everyone else.

“One year left…” Kureha said to herself as she sat lost in thought.

Her phone buzzed with a news alert: the last Prime Minister was going to commit seppuku on national television as an apology for their failed leadership and for ignoring the warning signs from the early days.

“Doesn’t change anything,” signed Kureha as she finished her tea and moved towards her favorite windowsill with the intent to read.

That was how most of the day passed. No cheers. No laughter. Her father was distant before The Calamity had arrived, and in the weeks after had barely spoken or acknowledged that anything had changed. He still went to his office job every day in a suit and tie, and was not yet home when the sun began to lower. The Calamity’s rip was not visible from the Hokkaido region, so Kureha had never seen it, but from what she heard, in regions where it was visible, the sun and moon would move behind it as though it was an obelisk in the sky that blocked all light.

Kureha wanted to see it with her own eyes. This expanding representation of doom was visible only 2,300 kilometers away, and Kureha could not help but desire to make some sort of perverted pilgrimage to Fukuoka to bear witness. As she sat there mulling over the concept of making her way to Fukuoka, her doorbell rang. Kureha slid from the windowsill’s perch and made her way to the door, unsure who the guest could be.

When the door opened, she was shocked to see five guests at her door, all of whom she knew. Beyond knowing them, they had been her closest friends for nearly fifteen years.

“Rin! Arata! Shiona! Kai! Riku! What are you doing here?!” she blurted out with joy as they all rushed to embrace one another.

“What? You thought a midnight text in the group chat was all you’d get?” said Riku, the boy who had been her neighbor for a decade and still used a cane to walk.

Kai shook his fingers through her hair. His parents had been close and when Kureha’s mom passed away, she had lived with them down the street for a few months.

“Happy birthday,” he smiled as he removed his shoes and entered the house.

“Happy birthdayyyyy!” sang Rin as she shimmied her shoulders in celebration and jumped into Kureha’s arms for a hug.

Rin was petite with pixie-cut hair. Arata was her quiet, kind boyfriend of several years. They all three hugged together then stepped into the house.

“Happy birthday my darling,” said Shiona as she entered last with an enormous bouquet of flowers.

“They’re beautiful!” proclaimed Kureha as she received the bouquet that was larger than her torso.

“We all pitched in, but it was Shiona’s idea to get them,” said Kai.

“Anything for my baby girl,” said Shiona to Kureha as she closed the door.

“Well, it was Riku’s idea to get everyone together,” said Rin as she clapped her hands.

The room was now full of people and of livelihood. These were the relationships that had been with Kureha for almost her entire life. They had gone to school together for years and had all once lived in the same neighborhood until Kai’s family had to relocate to Osaka for work.

“Kai, when did you get back?! How long are you here for?” asked Kureha.

“Till the end,” smirked Kai.

“What?!” asked Kureha.

“I’m staying with Riku’s family. When everything went down, my parents refused to change in any way. My dad is still traveling for work conferences, still going to his building-”

“Mine too!” proclaimed nearly everyone else in unison.

“So I gave them an ultimatum. I was leaving. I never really made friends in Osaka, so I wanted to be with you guys. I messaged Riku’s family if their guest room was still available, and now I’m here.”

“Awww, we’re all here…” sighed Kureha.

Before Kureha knew it, she was crying. The tears were warm, and they came every day at this point. Embarrassment hit her and she hid her face.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t apologize,” said Riku, whose eyes were watering as well.

“I cry every day,” said Arata.

“Me too,” said Shiona.

“Me too,” said Rin and Kai in unison.

Kureha held out her hands and they all came together as a group. Soon they were all quietly crying as the grief of a world collapsing and a life robbed from them and billions of others washed over them in its daily reminder that its cruelty was inescapable.

“And it just had to pick my next birthday to end everything?!” laughed Kureha with a sniffle.

They all laughed.

“Yeah, well in a bit of humor, those are aaaaaaactually funeral flowers, I just thought they looked pretty,” said Shiona with a laugh.

Everyone laughed and wiped their eyes.

“I thought so, but I didn’t care because they were so beautiful,” laughed Kureha.

Laughter continued after that and the tears faded for the most part. It wasn’t uncommon to occasionally look over and see at least one person wiping their eye at some point through the evening, as was also the case with the broader world whenever Kureha went into public.

Snacks were eaten. Drinks were drunk. Games were played as retro music blared. Kureha took several opportunities to soak in the moment, as there was a high probability that next year would not have any festivities. As the peaceful joy and solemn acceptance permeated her observation, she couldn’t help but ask:

“Could everyone sleep over tonight?” she proposed to the group.

They all paused. Riku smirked.

“We planned on it, just in case you wanted.”

“Futons are in the car!” said Rin.

“You always did like sleepovers,” said Kai.

By the time Kureha’s father had returned home, futons had been brought inside and more snacks had been opened. He didn’t protest the guests and barely spoke as he ate his dinner without changing. The group of friends rotated outside to the backyard to look at the skyline in the distance.

“So, Kureha, what’s your birthday wish?” asked Rin.

“Swing for the fence in case this is your last one,” said Shiona.

Kureha pondered her thoughts from the day and all that she’d felt in the last few weeks. What would she want if this was to be her last birthday, and her last summer. The breeze on her skin was cool as she closed her eyes.

“I…I wish I could go see The Calamity with my own eyes… Maybe before summer...” she answered, slightly embarrassed.

No one spoke at first.

“I… I’ve wanted to see it too,” answered Arata.

“Me too,” said Riku.

Kai and Rin nodded. Shiona smiled.

“What were you thinking for getting there?” asked Shiona.

“I don’t know… From what I’ve heard, planes aren’t really flying anymore. Maybe a train route? I’m not sure. It’s just my initial thought,” Kureha answered.

“Well, how about a road trip? My family van can hold six people for sure if we pack light,” chimed Rin.

“Road trip?” asked Kureha.

“Yeah! One last summer road trip? Across Japan and to the end of the world…”