Volume 2 – Chapter 25: In the Face of the End

The days started to blend together in a constant cycle of preparation and planning. Each second, it felt, had its own gravity; each one, a solemn reminder of how precious time was becoming. It was inescapably true, this trembling end of the world, this end world, the ground rumbling and trembling in the sky of every step and every shoe: it was blood and destruction, the end of everything that twists and descends — the impending sound of sirens that appeared to hover bloodied and bloody in every conversation. But we came through anyway.

But we began meeting in the mornings, bringing our families together, strategizing, making plans about what we might need if things got worse — which it inevitably did. No conversation, however crucial, was free of the tick-tock awareness that while we were free to talk the next day could be the day when everything changed.

By this point, we had all accepted that there was no going back. The lives we had known until then were over, and a new, bleak reality had taken their place. But even amid all that, I couldn’t avoid the feeling that we were going the right way. We were doing what we could do to survive, hoping we were prepared and, above all, staying together. That was constant throughout all of it. It was the love that we had for one another, the will to never give up, no matter how bloody hard that might have been.

One afternoon Rika and I ventured out into the house’s small garden, hoping for a few moment of peace in the turmoil that had overtaken our lives. The air was full of the smell of flowers, a welcome relief from the heaviness of our hearts. We parked ourselves on the corner bench, swaying in the cool wind with the rustling leaves above as the cicadas rioted all around us.

“Do you think it’s enough?” It was a concern, Rika said, but it was just out of concern. “All this preparation, all this planning… You think we’re going to be ready when the time comes?”

I turned to her, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. There was a familiar hesitation in her voice that I couldn’t miss. The world was moving more quickly than ever before and despite our best efforts, there was always that feeling in the back of our minds, would it really work?

I don’t know,” I replied, my voice lower than usual. “We can’t get everything right, Rika. We can only do what we can. But … I promise you all, when whatever it is happens, we will face it together. And that’s the only thing I can say for certain.”

Rika’s gaze softened when it met mine, her hand reaching to take my hand in it. “Together,” she said again, part of her depending on the word for strength.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I said, holding her hand. “We’ll get through this. Whatever the world sends our way.”

She smiled, but it was a small, bittersweet smile. “I want to believe that.”

We sat quietly for a while, letting the moment soak in. The garden was quiet, and sounds of life in the distance — it felt impossible, the way life could all shift like that, the way everything we’d ever known could disappear in a moment.

But the reality was apparent: we had to move forward. We couldn’t afford to squander time, to wait for the inevitable. If we were going to survive, if we were going to get through this, we needed to know what to prepare for, be prepared for what would be thrown at us.

It was as the sun began to set, gilding the garden, that we heard footsteps. I lifted my head, and saw my dad walking towards us, his face serious, but eyes hiding a little bit of concern.

“Kaito,” he said, as if carrying something unspoken in his voice. “We need to talk.”

I rose, taking Rika with me. The time for preparation, for making plans, was running out. The real hard stuff was still ahead, and I could feel it in my bones. What was no longer in question was whether they would survive day to day. We were approaching a point of no return.

“Yes,” I said, suppressing the tightening of my chest.

The air between us felt charged, and Rika squeezed my hand as we followed my father inside, both of us knowing that what happened next would alter everything. Time was short, and decisions needed to be made — decisions that would determine our fate, our future.