Volume 3 – Chapter 25: Borrowed Time

The dim pale morning light crept through tiny fissures of the bunker walls as if it did not want to come that way at all. Outside, the sun already rose, but it felt like it did not really belong to them anymore.The warmth had faded; what was left was routine. And survival.

Kaito sat again with his notebook in hand, the words from the previous evening racing through his mind now.

Let the end remember we lived.

He was not sure he believed it. But he wanted to.

"Morning," said Rika softly, sinking down beside him, pushing her hair back with a hand heavy with sleep. "You didn't sleep well, did you?"

He shook his head. "Dreams again."

Rika didn't ask what kind. She didn't have to. They all seemed to have the same ones now, variations on loss, echoes of things already lost or on their way to losing.

The other people gathered by the broken fence-line marking what had once been a garden an hour later. Aya and Rei were kneeling in dirt as if they could replant something probably doomed to wither anyway. It would have mattered anyway. The act itself meant something.

Jun was sharpening a blade, although it wasn't because of some immediate threat; it was something to do. These little acts of normalcy had become ritualized now for them all, and it helped or, at least, distracted.

No, Kaito found himself staring at the sky again. He made believe it was bluer than he thought. For a moment, it allowed him to dream nothing had changed. That the countdown wasn't real. That they weren't down to just 35 days left.

Then Rika touched his arm. "Let's not waste today."

He blinked and nodded. "All right."

That afternoon they were busy with solar panels set up to fix the power flickering once more. Aya said it was probably dust building up, while Jun predicted it was a bad omen.

Kaito had never really believed in omens. Part of him wanted to. At least it meant there was a design, some message, in all this. For random, however, that was harder to fight.

They worked together with sweat mixing with dust on their skin, memories coming into talk about the books they missed, the food they craved, places never pan-galactic notions that were never going to be. It wasn't sadness; not quite; it was an inventory, counting all the stuff that had once made life worth living.

And when the panels finally came to flicker back into life, a small cheer went up from everyone. It wasn't victory. But it was something.

---

It was a quieter ritual that evening. Aya strummed a few soft notes on the guitar while Rei read a page from a children's book she had found weeks ago. Kaito stood up, hesitating for a moment before he spoke. "I used to think that time was our owning," he said, voice steady. "That we could earn it, spend it, waste it. But now... now I think we're just borrowing it. It's running out. But maybe that's okay. Maybe borrowed time means we use it better."

In the back of the room, silence stretched out. Not impenetrable, not empty, but thoughtful. "Then let's use what we have," said Rika and took his hand under the dim lantern light. And for that night, they did.