Volume 1 – Chapter 5: The Plan

[April 21 – 10:42 AM]

The morning was different.

Not that the world was any different from any other day—nope; it was still in the process of terminating, still coming apart at the seams.

It was more that a shift had occurred between us.

Rika was lying on the floor in my room, her back against the frame of the bed while she was browsing a book that had long been out of print. Her hair was unkempt, and she was not looking too rested—neither did I.

I sat staring at her, my legs crossed with both hands resting one atop the other.

“So,” she looked at me, and let her voice die into true quiet. “Are we seriously going to do this?”

I nodded.

A deep sigh escaped her lips. She closed the book and put it down.

“Then it’s time to go home and talk to our parents.”

Now that was the part I was dreading.

Not because I thought they would refuse; in fact, by now, nothing was really off the table. But what it meant:

Finality. Commitment. Reality check.

But Rika was right: if we were going to do this, we really could not go on talking about it. We had to do something.

I let out a puff of air through my nose.

"Fine, let’s go."

[April 21 – 12:17 PM]

Mother just stood there for a minute.

Right between Rika and me, moving her head back and forth, still holding the dish towel.

Slowly she began to lower it.

"You’re kidding," she said in a very soft voice.

"No," I said.

Silence.

Rika, by my side, squared her shoulders.

“We know it’s sudden. And we know that things are… complicated, at the moment. But we want this.”

I could practically see the thoughts whirring around in my mom’s head. The worry. The disbelief.

But she wasn’t arguing.

Instead, she swallowed and said, “Have you spoken to her parents?”

Rika nodded.

“They said they’d be fine with it if your family was.”

A slow, steady breath.

My mom turned away, her fingers pressed to her temples.

“…You’re still so young.”

“We do not have time to be old.”

She flinched at that.

I immediately regretted saying it, but it was true. And she knew it.

Her shoulders dropped.

“Your father will want to be included in this conversation.”

“Of course,” I said.

She turned back to us, studying our faces carefully. Then, after a long pause, she spoke—

“…Alright.”

[April 21 – 3:45 PM]

The meeting between our families was… surreal.

We sat in Rika’s living room, our parents across from us.

The air was thick with things left unsaid.

"First to speak was Rika's father. The man asked, 'You really want to do it?'"

"Yes," Rika stated firmly.

He was looking at me. "And you?"

I nodded in reply, "Yes."

I exhaled rather sharply while rubbing my jaw. "I mean, when Rika first told us about it, I thought she was; kidding."

Rika crossed her arms. "I would never joke about something so important."

Her mom sighed as she leaned in to talk to Rika. "Honey, we are not against it. We just... want to be sure that you are not going into anything you will regret."

Rika's expression softened.

“I know. But this isn’t just some impulsive decision. We’ve thought about it. We’ve talked about it. And we want to spend whatever time we have left together.”

A beat of silence.

Then my dad spoke.

“But if this is what you both want, then we’ll be there for you.”

Rika's father chuckled lightly, tiredly.

"Well, I guess that seals it."

A smile flew over Rika's face; it was the first one I had seen all day.

[April 22 – 11:30 AM]

The wedding was planned for the end of the week.

It wouldn’t have to be anything big—just small, something that mattered.

The world was ending, but we were not going to let that stop us.

We had things to do, nonetheless.

I sat at my desk, my laptop open, scrolling down lines of old research.

Rika was sitting on my bed, bouncing a rubber ball against a wall.

“Find anything yet?” she asked.

“Not yet,” I muttered.

She huffed.

“Well, hurry up. We really don’t have that much time.”

“I know.”

She plucked the ball out and palmed it.

“Do you think it’ll work?”

I hesitated.

Then, slowly, I nodded.

'I suppose that it's possible.'

The huge bang of the door touching against the hard wall caused her to jump in fright.

She looked at me; I, in turned, at her.

I stood, making my way over.

When I opened it—

There was a man.

Tall. Well-dressed. Unfamiliar.

He smiled.

“Kaito, right?”

I stiffened.

“…Who are you?”

His smile spread wider but didn’t reach his eyes.

“Let’s talk.”