The World Below

Akabane looked down at her blood-drenched hands.

“You’re thinking about it too, right?”

“Yes."

"It has to be me or you."

We had three minutes left.

I don't think of myself as an indecisive person. In fact I'd argue that I'm the most decisive person I know. I've stood up for myself decisively zero times, whether to Dad or a teacher or a bully, have been noticed by decisively zero girls (and even zero guys), and have held zero jobs, except for one Yuuki tricked me into where we handed out flyers on street corners for a "Gentlemen's Roadshow". I don't know how Yuuki knew those people, but a man who coughed more than he smoked handed us the flyer boxes and sped off on a vespa bike. When he didn't return at the end of the day with the cash, we realized we had been royally screwed into free advertising. Yuuki had taken the flyer boxes and chucked them through the club's front window, and that was how my first ever job prospect ate the dust.

That was when Yuuki formulated his philosophy on the number zero.

"This is our destiny, Kurosawa-kun."

"In what world?"

"We are like that wise guy from Ancient Rome, the man who abandoned all of his earthly possessions and slept in a barrel, where he found wisdom and True Happiness."

"I don't wanna sleep in a barrel. Also, we didn't choose to not be paid."

"It's all in the mindset. If we value ourselves above all else, the number zero will mean exactly what it is: nothing. The most comfortable number to ever exist."

Yuuki failed to adhere to his speech the following day when he threw another box through the club's window. Poorly edited wanted posters went up around town, stapled to street poles by poor teen souls getting scammed just like we'd been. Every time we walked by one Yuuki drew buttcheeks on it and wrote in a comic bubble: Blarp!!!

I wondered what that wise guy from Ancient Rome would think of me now. And I didn't feel too comfortable about the number zero as the timer on our platform counted down.

“You’re not a bad guy, Kurosawa-san.”

Akabane handed me the knife.

“Do it.”

“No. I can’t. I won’t.”

“I’m a murderer now. My life is worth less than yours.”

“No, no! It was self defense! You saved me!”

Her voice cracked.

“I saved you from what? We were all dead from the start, anyways. I don’t know what these Masked people want, but they got it. See? Look around you.”

Not a single platform was gone yet, populated by one or two people each. I’d been so engrossed in my own survival that I hadn’t noticed the sickening truth. It seems so simple when you think from an outside perspective. What’s the point in killing someone for another ten minutes? I would never.

You would.

A voice in the back of my head told me to take the blade. She was correct, I was the better person now. Right? I would never kill anyone. Right?

“If I kill you, I’m part of the cycle.”

“The what now?”

“Haven’t you noticed. The violence and hate? How cruel humans are?”

She looked at her hands again as if it was the first time she’d noticed the blood.

“I get what you’re saying about a cycle, Kurosawa-san, and I do know how terrible the world can be. But… sometimes that’s necessary.”

“Never.”

“We’re better humans than that businessman ever was. Just because of those last few moments of his life. And now you’re better than me in my last moments. So take the damn knife.”

Do it. Get the extra ten minutes.

“I can’t promise that I’d be able to save myself with those extra ten minutes, Akabane-san.”

“Promises are worthless anyways. That’s another thing I’ve learned. But I really want my death to have meaning. So kill me. Please.”

“There’s never meaning in death. Don’t look for what can’t be found.”

“That’s not true. There’s always meaning.”

“There’s no meaning in life, either, this life that I didn’t even choose to be born into. So it’s my one last screw you to the world: to die with some dignity. Those who comply with death are cowards.”

“I disagree.”

She tossed the knife in front of me, her hair shading her eyes ominously like curtains. Her fists tightened as if she was resisting the urge to attack me.

“Kurosawa-san, there’s nothing wrong with accepting death. There’s nothing wrong with being helpless and having no direction in life. There’s nothing-”

“There is.”

“You’re wrong!”

“You’re justifying your own murder!”

“I am. Because some people deserve death, and others don’t.”

Her peppery eyes blazed fiercely before extinguishing, and we slumped down and sat in silence, an invisible wall building between us. We contemplated the ends of our lives. Was this it? The culmination of seventeen years of my life? What had I done? My past was a blur - no legendary moments with friends, not cheers after a competition, no kissing, no hand holding, no trophies - nothing. Anger swelled in my chest like an overinflated tire on the verge of popping.

“You’re probably just a privileged rich girl, anyways. You don’t know the first thing about justice, and you want to die because now that you know what the real world is like, you hate yourself for being so excited for the future that was laid out for you.”

“Stop it, Kurosawa-san.”

“Well I’m sorry to say, but you’ll never be an actress, miss goody two-shoes. And even if you did make good money, you’d end up like that businessman. See how pathetic we are? So you… get to die like the rest of us.”

“Who’s the rest of us? Since when did you get to choose to have the saddest life ever? You’re projecting, right? So shut up. Leave me alone. Nobody kills anybody, and we die at the same time. So don’t talk to me and let me die in peace.”

And I fulfilled her request. When the time finally came, the only thing that indicated our demise was the cobble melting away and the announcer’s peachy voice:

“Goodbye, our miserable duo! Maybe next time!”

I squeezed my eyes shut and clenched my stomach. Like sinking into quicksand, the ground gave way and I became weightless, wind whistling in my ears-

***

Kohei Kurosawa was looking at himself as a child, and his child self was looking right back. They both sat in chairs in a school auditorium. Kohei shifted his feet and the squeak over the linoleum echoed through the empty hall. Chairs were piled up in a corner and the doors were chained shut. The only light that was on was the spotlight shining down on the two of them.

“Are we going to die, Kohei?”

He hadn’t expected such a blunt question from his younger self. He averted his gaze.

“Yes.”

“Will it be better after we do?”

“I think so.”

“How?”

“The pain will stop.”

“Why?”

“Because we’ll be dead.”

“What if I don’t want to die?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m the real one, the older one, so I get to choose.”

“Oh… okay.”

His younger self crossed his hands over his lap like he needed to pee. Kohei stood up from the chair and examined the curtains that lined both sides of the stage.

“Go get those curtains over there. Grab the gold rope. Help me close them.”

Younger Kohei seemed uncertain.

“What happens if we close them, Big Brother Kohei?”

“I don’t know. I think we’ll disappear forever.”

“But when you draw the curtains and reopen them, isn’t it supposed to be a new scene?”

The smell of summer wafted over Kohei. Even in his mind, the outside world was still going on. Someone’s voice reached them and sent a tingle down his spine. Young Kohei waited.

“Aren’t we going to close the curtains?”

“Eh? Oh - yeah! Yeah… I got distracted for a sec…”

The curtains shivered over the pole above like wind chimes. Right before they met in the middle, Kohei stopped. Young Kohei finished pulling his side and gave him another confused look.

“I finished, Big Brother Kohei…”

Kohei’s hands were shaking, a breeze running through his clammy fingers. Where was that wind coming from? He pushed past his unease and pulled the curtain closer, but this time much slower.

“I know this might sound dumb, Big Brother Kohei, but what did you do when you got older? I don’t have a memory of getting older, but did you do a lot of cool things? Did you move to Tokyo?”

Kohei stopped again, hands clenching the rope like he would fall if he didn’t.

“No. I don’t have the money.”

“Oh. Did Mom and Dad get better?”

“No. They divorced.”

“Oh… why?”

“Because of you.”

“Oh… I’m sorry…”

Someone was rapping their fist on one of the auditorium doors, the chain jingling and bobbing up and down like bait on a lure. A muffled voice.

“Open up, Kurosawa-san!”

Younger Kohei didn’t notice, or at least ignored it.

“Did you at least keep talking to Yuki-kun?”

Kohei felt like a blood vessel was about to burst above his eye.

“Look, just shut up and…”

He was going to say ‘shut up and pull the curtain’, but he was the one who hadn’t finished tugging his side. His head was pounding, the kind where it's not even close to the worst pain you've ever felt, but you still swear that you'd sacrifice a finger to make it go away. Like machine gun fire, those same images from what felt like an eternity ago played onstage to an audience of one.

Stupid idiot

Smells bad

Kurosawa is hopeless

But there was something else now, too. He didn't know where it came from. Those same noises from outside.

Get real, Kohei. You're just dreaming, the way all dreamers do: of something better. You're putting your hand in a wasp nest over and over and wondering why it hurts. Don't turn back, or you're in for a world of it.

A world of what?

Young Kohei spoke. "A world of promise."

Something burst deep inside, as if there was an orb in his heart that cracked or maybe grew a little. But it was a somber burst, the sun bursting over the mountains, an assurance that today was today and tomorrow would come in whatever form it chose to take. Was the excitement in that form? Who the hell knew?

Kurosawa/smells/lostcause/stupid/creepy/no children...

Kohei Kurosawa had a bad habit of saving animals. A few weeks ago it'd been a bird being stoned. When he'd met Yuuki it'd been a bird, too. What a coincidence. Or maybe birds were attacked by humans just because they could fly.

After saving him in a ruckus that involved a knife, Yuuki had said, "There's not many people who'd take a russling like that for a bird. You a pro boxer or something? Used to it?"

He'd nodded. "Yeah. I'm used to it."

Yuuki had paused then, as if he was truly enjoying life, tasting the possibilities of this stranger he'd stumbled upon. The possibilties of meeting someone new, who might leave a permanent mark that could change your life forever. Maybe it would be a scar, or maybe it would be a kiss. The only way to test the waters was to jump. So Yuuki did.

"Well, I respect a person who respects animals. I love animals. Wanna grab some grub? I'll pay."

"Yeah... sure."

In his own way, Kohei had tested the waters. He was still learning to swim, but he'd braved the shallow end and dipped his toes. Thanks to Yuuki, that son of a gun who'd found him-

(annoying)

-worth saving.

At this point he was sure the noises from outside were pure hallucinations. A popcorny aroma filled his lungs and he could taste the butter. A ball was bouncing down an empty hallway, going who knows where, and flip-flops chased after it, laughing the whole way. Giggles and whispers, of possibilities and futures that could be.

They were hallucinations, but they had all, at some point, been real.

He looked at his smaller self, still only vaguely aware of the shape of the world and still hopeful of it.

"Live large, kid."

Kohei ran and launched off the stage, darting for the door. He yanked on the chain and it shattered, because now he was glowing. Strength flowed through his body. He yanked the door open and it flew off its hinges, skirting along the floor and slapping into the front of the stage. Young Kohei disappeared behind the curtain.

“What do you want - oh.”

The pepper-eyed girl grabbed Kohei and shook him.

“Kurosawa-san! You’re glowing! You’re glowing! Fly! Float! Save us!”

“Huh?”

“OR ELSE WE’LL-”

***

“-DIE!”

Pure white energy burst out from under my feet, slowing us to a stop mere meters from the jungle growth. Akabane clung to my neck so hard she was choking me, and we burst through the treeline and crashed into the vines below. I opened my eyes. I was alive, and in a jungle bursting with colors and smell. Birds of paradise glided above, and a marching troupe of boars scurried off into the tallgrass. A lemony scent filled my nostrils. Akabane untangled herself from the vines and looked down at me.

“Get up. The ground’s muddy.”

“I… I like it here.”

She examined me, trying to figure out what had changed in our sixty-second descent.

“How did you do that, Kurosawa-san?”

“Near-death experiences are known to exhume drastic changes in character.”

“Not what I meant.”

“Oh... then I don’t know.”

I got up and brushed myself down, taking off my jacket. It was too warm and humid to wear it so I wrapped it around my waist. It might come in handy later.

“I had this weird fever dream. When I woke up, the energy came out.”

“All thanks to me, apparently. I kept slapping your face and you started glowing.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

We broke out in laughter, and for the first time in hours, I felt alright. Tears went freely down my face, and when Akabane saw them she started to cry, too. Every pent-up feeling from the day burst from us like a dam.

We wiped our faces and examined the world around us.

“Are we in a jungle, whizz kid Kurosawa-san?”

“Very funny, haha.”

“Heh…”

“Shut up.”

A firework went off in the sky. Festival? No - it was a blue flare.

“Looks like that’s the direction we’re heading in.”

She pointed at something a few meters away.

“Kurosawa-san, it’s a body…”

It was. And in the same way you start to see something everywhere once it gets pointed out, I noticed the bodies strewn along the jungle floor. Not everyone had been as lucky as us. The reality of the situation set back in, and my smile faded.

“That was just the first test. This one will probably be a lot harder. But we can do it. We have to live, and if there’s nothing and no one left to live for, then we’ll live for ourselves. Because we owe it to us-"

"Kuro...sawa...kun?"

I turned. Yuuki stood atop a giant dead tree, hands hanging loosely by his sides. Tears welled in his eyes.

"Kurosawa-kun, I could kiss you right about now!"