Volume 2 – Chapter 29: The Morning of Uncertainty

[July 15 – 7:12 AM]

Severe rays of gold were ripping through the delicate curtains of the morning. Yet too soon, although Kaito was already awake, looking at the ceiling and counting the cracks in the paint. Sleep had refused to come for much of the night. His brain won’t stop running — going through all the possibilities, all the outcomes.

Today was the day. Their wedding day.

He breathed in deep, filling his lungs with air, releasing it, his body free and light. It should have been the happiest morning of his life, and yet something gnawed at the corners of his mind, like a splinter that was too deep to be gotten rid of.

The outside world was still a world of chaos. They knew it. The streets were quieter, but that quiet was deceptive. There are too many things left unresolved, too many threats lurking just over the horizon. And yet in this fleeting moment there was also a tentative norm — one they claimed for themselves.

The knock on the door snapped him out of his gloom.

“Kaito?” His father’s voice, strong but hopeful.

He sat up and rubbed his hand across his face before replying. “Yeah?”

His father cracked the door and stepped inside. After a long pause, he turned to Kaito, “You good?

Kaito wanted to laugh. Was anyone okay? But instead, he just nodded. “I guess.”

His father sighed, and walked in the house. “It’s a big day. And not just because of the wedding.”

That was an understatement.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” his father said gently. “If you’re having doubts—”

“I’m not,” Prince Kaito said, his voice steadier than he’d meant for it to be.

His father stared blankly at him, then nodded slowly. “Alright. But if you need to talk—”

“I know.”

His father hesitated a moment longer, then slapped a hand on Kaito’s shoulder and abandoned him again.

Kaito breathed out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Doubts? No. He wasn’t doubting Rika. He wasn’t second-guessing this one. But he was afraid. Afraid that this wouldn’t help them at all.”

And still, despite it all, he had wanted this. He needed this. Because if the world was ending, at least they would do it together.

[7:48 AM – Across the Hall]

Rika grabbed the edges of the vanity table and stared into her own eyes. Her hair was tousled, her eyes slightly puffy from a night with little sleep.

She felt... hollow. Like someone was standing on the edge of something vast and mysterious.

And part of her expected to wake up and assume this was all some cruel, elaborate dream. That she and Kaito had never really returned home. That the wedding wasn’t real. That the last three months didn’t happen.

But it was real.

Her mother had been fretting over last-minute preparations, her friends had been texting her, checking in on how she was feeling. She was expected to be excited, right, be happy.

And she was. She really was.

But beneath that happiness lay a quiet overwhelmed, creeping terror she couldn’t expel.

What if something happened? What if they didn’t even make it through the day before the world found another way to unravel?

Then someone pounded on the door, making her jump.

“Rika?”

Her mother.

“Yeah?” she answered, struggling to keep her voice even.

The door opened and in came her mother, who softened at the sight of her. “You’re not dressed yet.”

Rika forced a small smile. “I was just... thinking.”

Her mother hesitated, then came over and put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay to be scared.”

Rika blinked, her throat tightening.

“I know things aren’t the way they should be,” her mother said. “And I know this isn’t your dream wedding as a little girl. But it’s still your wedding. And it still matters.”

Rika exhaled slowly, nodding. “I know.”

Her mother pushed her shoulders back, then stepped away. “Take your time. But not too much time. The guests are on their way.”

She walked out, shutting the door softly behind her.

Rika locked her eyes for another second before finally tugging on the dress that hung next to her.

She didn’t do this only for herself. Or for Kaito.

She was doing this because it was the last thing in this dying world that still felt right.

[8:30 AM – Outside the House]

The sun rose higher but the air barely lost the coolness of the early morning. Outside preparations were in full flow. The tiny ceremony space had been quickly yet lovingly decorated. White folding chairs, a makeshift altar, a few scattered decorations — unsophisticated, but beautiful in its own way.

They were arriving in quiet clumps. Family, friends, neighbors. Familiar faces, who had been such a part of their daily lives there, and who gathered in a world that had so little to share — but offered a moment of inbetween happiness.

But not everyone was smiling.

There were secret whispers. You peer nervously at the horizon.

Everybody knew what their truth was.

Nobody knew what would happen tomorrow.

But for the day, they would pretend.

They would celebrate.

Even though the end of the world was still creeping in.