Volume 1 - Chapter 4: Midnight Conversations

[April 20 – 12:15 AM]

The streets were quiet. Not the normal kind of quiet — the peaceful, sleepy silence of a city resting. This was wrong. A hollow, unnatural stillness. Like the city had already started to die.

I tightened the hood against me and walked to the old park.

The air was cool and smelled of distant rain, but there was something heavy beneath it. The smell of smoke. I did not know what had been burned. Maybe a building. Maybe a car. Maybe something worse. I didn’t want to think about it.

When I came, Rika was already there, perched on top of the rusted swing set, one leg kicked out lazily, the other pressing against the metal. A cigarette dangled from her fingers, its ember burning in the darkness.

She didn’t smoke. At least, she never used to.

I frowned. "Since when did you start that?"

She gave a small, lopsided smile, tapping off the ash. "Since it stopped mattering."

I leaned against the swing next to her. "That’s a dumb reason."

She shrugged. "So is worrying about the future when we don’t have one."

I didn’t respond right away. Because she wasn’t wrong.

So, I pitched the cigarette from her fingers, showed it to my mouth, and inhaled deeply before blowing it out.

Rika raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you smoke?"

I smirked. "Since it stopped mattering."

She laughed through her nose and shook her head. "Touche."

A companionable silence fell between us.

The sky loomed above us, impossibly infinite. The stars had never seemed so far away.

“So,” she said finally, turning toward me. "What’s the plan?"

I sighed, letting the smoke drift into the night. "I don’t know yet."

"Figured."

"But I want to do something."

Rika hummed, studying me. "Something reckless?"

"Maybe."

"Something fun?"

"Hopefully."

She grinned. "Count me in."

[April 20 – 2:35 AM]

We wandered around the city, past boarded up retail stores and closed cafes. And neon signs still blinked, but their light felt desolate, pouring across vacancies that would never fill again.

“Do you ever think about how weird all of this is?” Rika asked suddenly.

I glanced at her. "How do you mean?"

"Like… we’re still here. Still walking. Still breathing. But everything around us is already—" she waved a hand vaguely, "—falling apart. It’s like… we’re ghosts in our own world."

I frowned. "That’s depressing."

She laughed. "I mean, yeah. But I’m not wrong."

I sighed. "No, you’re not."

She thrust her hands in her pockets and kicked a stray soda can down the street.

“Do you think people will continue to make an effort to live normal?”

I thought about Mom. About Dad. About Aiko, clenching my sleeve so tightly it hurt.

“I believe some will attempt,” I remarked softly.

"And the rest?"

I looked around. At the broken windows, the emptied storefronts, the messages spray-painted onto sandbagged walls.

"NO FUTURE."

"GIVE UP."

"RUN WHILE YOU CAN."

I swallowed.

"I think a lot of people have already given up."

Rika was silent for a long time.

Then, quietly, she murmured, "I don’t want to be like them."

I turned to her. She wasn’t looking at me. Her eyes were on the horizon, on the city skyline, on something I couldn’t see.

“I don’t want to waste this time,” she added. "Even if it’s short. Even if it’s pointless. I don’t want to merely bide my time. I want to live."

There was a squeezing in my chest. Because I understood. Because I felt the same.

And because, for the first time since the announcement, I didn’t feel all alone.

[April 20 – 4:10 AM]

And we finished at the top of the roof of an old bookstore.

The climb was simple — a rickety fire escape, flappy railings, chipped steps.

But after reaching the top we were glad to have done so.

Below us, a wash of lights in the distance, a lot of traffic and movement.

Rika leaned her back against the concrete, put her arms behind her head.

“You ever think forward to what comes next?”

I raised an eyebrow. "After what?"

She gave me a look. "The end."

I hesitated. "Not really."

"Why not?"

"Because I don’t know if there is an after."

She hummed. "Yeah. Me neither."

Silence.

Then—

"Hey."

I turned to her.

She was looking at me now, eyes sharp, focused.

"Promise me something," she said.

I frowned. "What?"

"That we don’t waste this."

I studied her. The way her expression dropped, like she was bracing herself. How her fingers curled a little on the rooftop, as if squeezing something that wasn’t there.

She was scared. Just like me.

I swallowed.

"Okay," I said. "I promise."

Somewhere in her shoulders loosened up.

She looked back up at the sky, breathing out slowly.

"Good."

[April 20 – 5:50 AM]

The sun started to rise. A soft, golden light washed across the horizon, spilling over the city in a persistent hush.

I turned to Rika.

She too had been watching, her eyes half-lidded, her expression inscrutable.

Then she said — not looking at me — "I think I’d marry you."

My breath caught. I blinked. "What?"

She smiled an awful smile and finally looked at me.

"I’m just saying. If we had time. If things were different. And I’d probably go and marry you."

For a good five seconds, my brain wouldn’t work.

Rika just laughed when she sat up and stretched.

"I’ve always loved you, Rika."

I wrapped my arms around Rika and breathed in her ear.

"Let’s go talk to our parents and get married."

And for the first time in weeks I didn’t feel entirely hopeless.

Rika gave a smile and stared up into my eyes.

"Okay."