First in The Sea, Then to the Sky

Hakodate expanded out beneath the friends as they rode the cable car to the observation point. There had been quite a line, so it was later than they expected. Dusk was already approaching on their last full day in Hokkaido, but Kureha had always wanted to go to the high point and see the narrowing city expand below. Dozens of other pilgrims stood in the suspended car with them as they rose high into the mountainside. Down below the city shrank until buildings were merely shapes and blocks. Lights in the thousands of windows were already illuminating as the darkness approached. No one in the friend group spoke.

This was their last stop on the island. From here they were leaving for Honshu to travel the main island and continue to Fukuoka. Leaving Hokkaido seemed as though it was the beginning of the end. The familiar air and cool northern climate would soon be replaced by the humidity and intensity of Tokyo, Kyoto, Nagoya, Osaka, and more. Still, they were ready. Picking another observation point seemed fitting, and Rin then proposed that finding observation decks or tower views at each major point of the trip should be a goal. Riku had already set himself to the task of finding more options for the remaining journey.

Cables stopped churning and their car finally reached the peak. Already the view from the window was incredible. Kureha excitedly grabbed her camera and queued to exit. Shiona squeezed her hand and let out a squeak of excitement. Doors opened and mountain winds blew into their faces, letting the friends know they were high above the sea now. Everyone moved in sync towards the main observation deck.

“Wow!!” sighed Riku as the group neared the edge and saw the incredible view before them. Clouds of grey and gold graced the viewers down below with an expanse of peace as rain rolled over the tops of distant mountains. Water flanked both sides of the narrowing causeway in the bay down at the oceanfront. The Pacific Ocean crept along the tight band of land where buildings packed themselves into every inch of space like commuters in a rush hour train car. Towards the end of the peninsula, the land opened up again and widened back into the mainland of Hokkaido. Behind them was the ocean and a single bridge that would take them to their next adventure.

“Beautiful,” said Shiona.

“It was a beautiful childhood with all of you,” said Arata.

“It was. I will cherish it as long as my soul exists,” agreed Rin.

Dozens of viewers moved around them, all lost in their own wonder and conversation. Words blended into ambient sound as the lights far below glowed like distant candles. The sky turned silver and cool as the sun began to fade and set on their time there. All of them knew they had to continue, but now that it came to it, none of them could move their feet. Suddenly death and despair seemed much closer with the veil of their home being pulled away. Kureha felt Shiona’s hand take hers and an immediate sense of relief washed over her. Then her hand took Riku’s. Shiona’s hand took Kai’s. Riku’s hand took Rin’s, who was already holding Arata’s.

There they stood and made their peace with goodbye. Even if they returned, Kureha knew that the people who would return to the island would not be the ones leaving tonight. Impermanence carried over to people as well, and in every cherished moment and new memory, she was dying and being reborn. Winds from the high altitude had harnessed her spirit and carried it far away to slumber in safety and familiarity so that now she would have to leave and find the remaining pieces of herself that had yet to be discovered. From the sky, across the sea, and onto the unfamiliar soil she had to go. The squeeze of her hand from her friends told her it was time.

“Before we go, can we all get a picture?” Kureha asked the group.

Everyone agreed. In reality, they had not taken many photos of all of them together so far. Kureha made a mental note to remedy that moving forward. They found a man and wife nearby and asked if they could take the photo. The wife happily agreed and spoke with a soft voice that Kureha had noticed was becoming more common among many of the grownups they encountered. It was a voice of sympathy and understanding for the young people who were being robbed of any future or opportunity. The woman’s smile was motherly and sincere as she motioned them to move in together while the husband showed her what button to press.

Several photos were taken out of consideration so that the friends would have options. Everyone favored the third option, which had the clearest and most well-lit version of the sky with the distant world down below.

With that, it was time to go. Once again, no one spoke as they stood in the cable car and descended back down to the van. Minutes later they were in the van, traveling along the highway towards the dock where a ferry would carry them across the bay. Once the van was secured and the heavy horns of the ferry sounded the announcement of their departure, Kureha gave Hokkaido one last look in case she never saw it again. There was no guarantee The Calamity’s expansion would not start accelerating. They could all die much sooner than planned. With that in her mind as well as an immense gratitude for the wonder of existence she had known there in the far north, Kureha said goodbye.

A tapping metal sound told her Riku was approaching. He didn’t speak and instead held up his phone screen to show a candid photo of Kureha that he had just captured. It was well-framed and showed the mountains of the island in the distance behind Kureha, whose back was to the camera.

“Wow! That’s good!” said Kureha.

“For once you’re the subject,” grinned Riku as he balanced himself beside her.

He didn’t speak beyond that. Still, his presence was calming for Kureha. It was like having an enormous bear standing as a guardian beside her temple.

“I don’t want to die,” admitted Kureha.

It was the first time she’d said the words out loud. Before then, terms like existence, life, oblivion, and so on had been used by scientists, politicians, teachers, priests, and so on to sanitize reality. But the simple fact was that they were all going to die, and no one knew how sudden, when, or how painful it would be. Beyond that, Kureha was not ready to part with the beauty of her life, which was becoming more precious every day.

“It’s cruel isn’t it?” asked Riku in a thoughtful tone.

“We may never have all reunited again as adults, or ever had time and money to go on a trip like this if reality had continued normally. So we have The Calamity to thank in some ways, but the reason behind it is that one day none of us will be here anymore.”

Kureha nodded.

“Some day the dream will end,” she agreed.

“But not today,” said Riku.

“True,” said Kureha as she watched the docks disappear into the evening fog.

Riku leaned over and kissed the top of Kureha’s head then walked away. The sensation of his lips surprised her. It was not unwelcome, and it did not seem overly romantic or manipulative. It was gentle and kind. That was the second time Riku had surprised Kureha with a raw expression of affection towards her, and in the same vein of his comment, Kureha could not help but wonder if, had The Calamity never appeared, would he have kept such affections to himself.

It wasn’t a topic she minded or wanted to press, and as she sat with it, she began to realize how much she had always been attracted to all of her friends in different ways. Thoughts of a life with any of them were a pleasant escape into her mind, but just like other dreams that were set to end, she knew they would only ever be dreams. With that, she smiled to herself and savored the tingling in her chest at the recollection of how his lips felt, and decided to make her way into the ferry to join the others. Soon they would be arriving at the dock and finding a place to sleep in Oma. Honshu’s memories awaited.