Sayo Morisaki

Day 1

The train groaned under the weight of too many passengers and too few destinations, smelling a bit too much like sweat and tired sighs. Even with the knowledge of the world ending, people still had to go to work, after all. They still wore their suits and uniforms, going to do their day-to-day life. Some had gone off the rails instead, dying their hair all sorts of strange colours and wearing unique clothes that showed off a bit too much skin. They probably hardly even cared to think about living tomorrow.

Sayo sat by the window, her cheek resting against the cool glass, watching towns blur by like watercolor paintings left out in the rain. Everything looked softer than she remembered, maybe it was the dust. Maybe it was because Rika wasn’t here. Or maybe the world was finally starting to decay, even in its silence.

“Mama, why’s the moon so big? Is it coming to visit us?”
“Yes, dear, the moon is coming to visit us soon.”
“Exciting! I want to meet the moon! Can we go to the moon once it arrives?”
“..Yes, dear, we can go to the moon with everyone.”

Sayo paid no mind to how loudly the child was talking, nor the hesitation in the mother’s voice. She adjusted the strap of her backpack and reached into it, pulling out a small, worn notebook. The pages had warped from years of use—doodles and lists and half-thoughts filled every spare margin. She flipped past the ones with Rika’s handwriting in the corners, little comments the raven-haired girl had left. Her fingers paused there for a second longer than she meant to.

Rika would hate this.
The thought came uninvited. But she smiled anyway. It was Rika, after all. Sayo wondered if she was eating and sleeping well. But it was Rika after all, she probably wouldn't be.

Rika would hate the noise, the lack of structure in the new society. She’d hate how people had started treating time like it didn’t matter anymore, that there was nothing else to live for, and that they were all waiting for death. Sayo didn’t blame her. That was always the difference between them—Rika needed purpose like air, at least until she was satisfied. Sayo just needed to keep moving. She had always wanted to live the life of a bum.

She scribbled something down:
"Took the 7:16 east. Shared a seat with a woman who smelled like rain. Gave her my last orange. She said I had soft eyes. It seems some people take this chance to be kinder, with less regard for reputation."

She paused, thinking back to the short conversation she had with the woman. Sayo had just walked onto the train, eating an orange that a street vendor was selling. An overpriced orange, but she had bought it anyway. Wordlessly, she had handed the woman the last piece. “Your eyes are lovely, a rather soft look to them. Has anyone ever told you that?” she had said.

A low murmur passed through the busy train car. Two rows down, someone was crying quietly into their hands. Was it because of a person, someone they lost or had left them? The world? The current situation all humans are in and can't escape from? Sayo looked away. It wasn’t indifference. It just felt wrong to watch people grieve for the same thing she’d already made peace with in the end.

It wasn’t giving up.
It was… letting go.

The announcer’s voice crackled overhead, too garbled to understand as usual. Maybe even the train conductor didn’t care anymore. But it didn’t matter. This wasn’t about destinations. She was just following places from old memories and old conversations, after all. There was a town somewhere by the coast that she and Rika once joked about retiring to, long after they changed the world. Sayo thought she’d start there.

And if the tides were too high now, well. She’d just keep walking. Like there was no destination at all.

She reached into her bag again, this time pulling out a small handheld camera. One of the old kinds. Film. She liked the weight of it. She snapped a photo of the blurry countryside outside the window, listening to the little click it made ride over the whispers in the train. Maybe one day, someone would find it and wonder what the world looked like before it fell apart, before all of this, and when it was still normal, just a bit over 24 hours ago.

She leaned back in her seat. Somewhere out there, Rika was still fighting. Trying her hardest against what was inevitable. Still trying to win against something bigger than both of them. Sayo didn’t resent her for that, there really was no reason to.

Why would she? They just chose different kinds of goodbyes.