The First Day of the End

The world did not end with a bang. There were no explosions, no monstrous calamities, no divine reckoning. The announcement came quietly—just words on screens, spoken in calm voices by anchors who barely understood what they were saying.

The world will end in exactly one year.

It was official. The date was set. No one knew why or how. Just that it would happen.

Tachibana Haruki stared at the television in the convenience store, hands stuffed into his pockets. Around him, the world moved on, as if nothing had changed. An old man continued flipping through a magazine. A salaryman grabbed an energy drink. The cashier, barely older than Haruki, scanned items with the same vacant expression as before.

Haruki exhaled through his nose, a dry, humorless chuckle escaping. "So, that's it, huh?"

"You don’t seem surprised." A voice came from beside him.

He turned slightly, meeting the gaze of Fujimura Aoi. Her short, dark brown hair swayed as she tilted her head, studying him. She was still wearing her school uniform, just like him—though hers looked slightly neater, as if she still cared.

"Should I be?" Haruki asked.

Aoi gave a half-smile. "Most people are either crying or pretending it’s not real. You look like you just found out math homework is due tomorrow."

"I mean, we were all gonna die eventually. Now we just have a deadline."

She hummed in thought before grabbing a can of coffee from the fridge. "You’re kind of weird, Haruki."

He didn’t respond to that. Instead, he turned back to the television. The broadcast had switched to a news panel—experts debating, arguing. Some believed it was a hoax. Others were already talking about how humanity should 'spend its final days.'

"What do you think?" Aoi asked after a moment. "About all this?"

Haruki shrugged. "Nothing changes. School still sucks. Convenience store bread is still overpriced. Life goes on." He looked at her. "What about you?"

Aoi popped open her coffee and took a sip. "I think..." she hesitated, then smiled. "I think I’m gonna make the most of it."

"That sounds exhausting."

She laughed. "Then just watch me."

The atmosphere in the classroom the next day was suffocating. Students whispered in hushed tones, their usual conversations—crushes, exams, after-school plans—replaced with anxious murmurs.

"My mom says we should move to the countryside."

"I heard some people are quitting their jobs already."

"Do you think school’s gonna close?"

Haruki slid into his seat by the window, resting his chin on his hand. The teacher entered moments later, carrying the same forced normalcy as the rest of the world.

"Alright, settle down. Let’s begin today’s lesson."

A scoff came from behind him. "What’s the point?"

Haruki turned slightly to see Kurosawa Renji leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. His sharp features were twisted in amusement, as if mocking the very idea of continuing school.

"Kurosawa," the teacher warned. "We still have a duty to educate—"

"For what? College? Careers? There won’t even be a world by then."

A tense silence followed. Some students nodded in agreement. Others looked away, as if avoiding the conversation would make it disappear. Haruki simply watched, waiting.

The teacher sighed. "We don’t know what will happen in a year. Until then, we live as we always have. Now, open your textbooks to page—"

The door slid open abruptly. Shiraishi Natsuki stepped in, looking as composed as ever. She was a top student, always punctual—yet today, she was late.

"Sorry," she said flatly. "The trains are a mess. Some people refused to get off the tracks."

The weight of her words settled heavily in the room. No one spoke. Haruki glanced at her as she took her seat in front of him, her expression unreadable. The world was already crumbling, piece by piece.

At lunch, Haruki found himself on the rooftop, the crisp autumn wind ruffling his uniform. Aoi sat beside him, swinging her legs over the edge.

"Do you believe in miracles?" she asked suddenly.

Haruki raised an eyebrow. "You mean, like, aliens saving us? God deciding to give us a second chance?"

She grinned. "Something like that."

He thought for a moment before shaking his head. "Nope."

"That was fast."

"Hope’s just another way to set yourself up for disappointment."

Aoi took another bite of her sandwich, unbothered. "Well, I believe in them."

"Figures."

"Oh? And what does that mean?"

Haruki smirked slightly. "You just seem like the type."

Aoi laughed, but before she could respond, the door to the rooftop creaked open. Kurosawa Renji stepped out, his usual confident swagger in place. He spotted them and grinned.

"Yo, lovebirds."

Aoi rolled her eyes. "Took you long enough."

Haruki frowned. "Wait. You were expecting him?"

"I invited him," Aoi said cheerfully. "I figured if we’re gonna spend our last year alive, we might as well have an interesting group."

Haruki sighed. "Why do I get the feeling I’m being dragged into something?"

Renji plopped down beside them. "Because you are."

Aoi clasped her hands together. "From today onwards, we are officially a team!"

"A team for what?" Haruki asked warily.

She grinned. "To make this last year the best one ever."

Haruki stared at her, then at Renji, who merely smirked. He exhaled slowly, already regretting everything.

"This is gonna be a disaster."

Aoi only laughed. "That’s the spirit!"

That night, Haruki lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. His phone buzzed with a message from Aoi.

[Aoi: Bucket List Item #1 – Watch the first sunrise of the year together!]

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. Just as he was about to reply, a sudden chill ran down his spine.

A whisper. Soft, almost distant.

"Haruki."

His body tensed. He sat up abruptly, eyes scanning the darkened room. Nothing. Just the sound of the wind outside.

A dream? His imagination?

But even as he lay back down, the unease remained. And somewhere, deep in his mind, a voice echoed—a voice not his own.

You have one year.