Ghost Town Reverie

A few months ago, a catastrophic threat was detected. Large asteroids headed towards the earth at rapid speed with the estimation that it will hit the planet in about a year and wipe out humanity. World leaders are trying to calm the public, stating that they will find a solution to this problem. Some citizens have plunged into hysteria, wrecking their homes and screaming about the world's imminent demise. Others remain skeptical, convinced it's nothing more than an elaborate government hoax—a grand conspiracy. Meanwhile, some have abandoned all restraint, indulging in lawlessness and crime, embracing the fleeting time they believe they have left.

Since then it has been five months. Yet here Toma Arisawa was, walking to school as if the news didn’t exist. Maybe it was his way of coping with the current circumstance, trying to hold onto some semblance of normalcy. But it’s difficult to do when the town he knew so intimately was getting flipped upon its head.

Houses stood abandoned, their doors left ajar, swaying slightly in the wind as if whispering of those who had vanished. Convenience stores had been ransacked, their shelves stripped bare, and their floors littered with discarded wrappers and shattered glass. Toppled trash cans spilled their contents onto the pavement, leaving the occasional putrid scent.

The once-bustling streets, where vendors called out to passersby and office workers hurried to catch their trains, were eerily silent. The usual rush of cars, the hurried footsteps of commuters heading toward the station—it had all vanished. And even the familiar morning chatter of students walking to school, the laughter, the hurried footsteps of those running late—gone.

The small town, once brimming with familiar faces and voices, now felt like an empty shell. He wasn’t sure whether to be surprised or impressed by how many had just jumped ship and left.

He steps onto the school grounds, the once familiar path now littered with remnants of chaos. He treads carefully toward the classroom, weaving around jagged shards of glass and discarded debris—silent echoes of what once was.

He can't help but gaze at the amount of graffiti spray painted on the walls. Bright and striking colors are etched onto each crack on the smooth surface. Each one had traces of those who had already left. Some messages reek of hysteria, frantic scrawls of desperation and fear. Others, by contrast, are nothing more than crude doodles or inappropriate jokes—but he would be a liar to say that he didn't find a single one of those to be somewhat amusing.

He steps into the classroom, only to be greeted by a mere five people. Surprisingly, the classroom he stayed in was one of the few left slightly unscathed. While others had demolished glass, chairs and tables flipped, and papers scattered, their room had perfectly maintained windows and the occasional broken desk. Perhaps it was the working air conditioning that saved this room from its inevitable destruction.

Toma took his place in his usual seat and just looked around. Three people were those that he recognized, students that belonged in this class. Meanwhile, the other two weren’t from this class at all. They looked much older, seniors probably.

A deep, undisturbed quiet filled the room. No voices broke the stillness, no hurried movements disrupted the gentle lull of time. Some sat with books in hand, their eyes drifting slowly across the pages, while others idly scrolled through their phones. A few had their heads resting on their desks, their breathing steady, lost in sleep.

He understood why they were here. Perhaps they all did. This place was the closest thing to a sanctuary, one of the last pockets of serenity left in the small town that they inhabited. Here, the weight of their strange situation eased, if only for a little while. It was a space where one could simply exist.

The clock struck eight-thirty and the bell that would normally ring remained silent. Many teachers and staff had left months ago. In a small town like this, it wasn’t a surprise. They probably wanted to experience a more colorful and fulfilling life before the world came to an end…

The end huh? He couldn’t help but think. It felt alien to even think about such a thing. Though many have already predicted some sort of world-ending catastrophe before, the prospect of it being a reality was a strange one. It simply didn’t feel realistic or something to worry about. Those were plots in movies or television shows that he watched before, not actual real-life scenarios. But it’s already been five months and yet so many things have changed.

Sitting there quietly, absentmindedly doodling in a barely-used notebook, his pen gliding over the paper without thought, peering out the window at the empty field devoid of the usual laughter and movement of his peers, he turned his head toward the pristine chalkboard at the front of the room that remained spotless from last it was wiped clean.

Time slipped through his fingers unnoticed. One blink, then another, and before he knew it, sleep had taken over him. When he awoke, the classroom was empty. Eight hours had passed, leaving him alone in the room.

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he strolled out of the classroom slowly making his way back to the gates and walking back home. The sun had begun to set by the time he got out.

The streets were filled with nothing. No students making plans, no kids in the playground, no adults heading home after a tiresome day, no nothing. All that remained were remnants of what had been and the occasional stray rummaging through the scraps. But there was a strange serenity that came from gazing at the golden rays engulfing this small town that he lived in for many years. A place steeped in memories—though not the kind that stirs nostalgia or brings a lump to his throat.

Eventually, he's at his front door to which he simply turns the knob and makes his way inside. After all, what purpose would there be in locking a door in a ghost town?

Kicking off his shoes, walked to the bedroom, and collapsed onto the bed. He developed a dull routine with all the events that came about. Get up, take a bath, brush teeth, go to school, sleep, go back home, sleep, and repeat. That was now his life other than the few times his stomach would growl and he’d cook himself something instant.

So now, he stares at the ceiling filled with plastic glow-in-the-dark stars that have long lost their fluorescent qualities after all these years. He never had the heart to remove them, for they were one of the few gifts that his father had given. Slowly, as the distant hum of cicadas fills the night air, sleep begins to take hold, and the cycle begins once more.

                                 _____________________________________________

Feeling the glaring sun on his skin blinking into awareness, squinting his eyes to avoid the morning rays. As he looked up, there was a strange figure that was looking down at him. He couldn’t help but do a double take, rubbing his eyes out. Was I hallucinating somehow? Toma wondered, but his thoughts were cut off by a soft laugh that was familiar but different simultaneously. It was slightly deeper and it simply sounded wrong.

The figure hovered directly above his head, the warmth of the sun now obscured by the figure's presence. As his vision adjusted, the world around him sharpened, and there he was—his familiar patch of raw umber hair catching the light, a pair of cerulean eyes gazing down at him gently. A small smile played at the corners of his lips, soft and knowing, as though he had always been there, watching over him.

“Good morning Toma. Did ya’ sleep well?”

The soft, cheerful voice that, was much deeper now, broke the silence, and there he was— face to face with Kaito Nakanishi, the person who had been avoiding him for nearly three long years.