Volume 4 – Chapter 2: Fractured Sky

Date: September 8

Last 23 Days. 

The thunder rumbled far off, announcing the rising morning. A mere sound, and no storm crossed the fractured reminiscences of the sky. Beneath the shelter, three of them sat around a small table with an awkward breakfast spaced between: stale crackers, a little dried fruit, and silence.

Kanna poked one of the crackers with her fingernail. "Well...what's the plan for today? More waiting? More staring into empty space?"

Kaito smiled faintly. "That, and some light existential dread."

Rika nudged him. "We have to check the perimeter of the town again. The last group from the southern camp said there were some supplies near the collapsed library."

Kanna sighed. "Scavenging. Very romantic."

"Nobody said that the world was ending in style," Kaito dryly retorted.

Before noon. Thick, choked gray clouds hung low in the air, something like a lid on a boiling pot. A faint wind was stirring around with its rust-colored and dust-dull scent. Together, they mingled with some bitter sweetness of dried-up vegetation. Almost the roads were gone-there were only overgrown cracks, as if the earth was trying to erase the very remembrance of humanity from its skin.

The building of the collapsed library was, anyhow, worse than they imagined.

The last tremor had almost wiped it out. This time, only the front hall remained, landing under layers of soot and shattered glass. Rika was leading the way in, careful with each step she took. Kanna, grumbling, followed behind.

Kaito halted at the threshold.

His fingers traced such partially burned letters on a sign that would have read "Children's Section." He blinked. Something, perhaps, stirred within him. Grief? Or guilt?

"Kaito?" came the distant echo of Rika's voice.

"Coming."

Underneath a half-collapsed bookshelf, they stumbled upon a cache of sealed water bottles and a box of canned goods. Kanna said softly, "Score."

As they stashed stuff into their bags, Kaito unearthed some crazy thing: an old, dusty photo frame, cracked in two, definitely showing a family of smiles, arms around each other, with birthday balloons framing them. It looked like a moment from some world that never came to be.

Rika peeked over his shoulder.

"They look happy."

"Yeah," Kaito said in a distant voice. "They look...whole."

Silence passed.

Then Kanna quietly spoke, "Maybe that's what keeps people going. Not just survival. But a thought maybe nothing whole existed."

Rika truly looked at her now. "That might be the reason we decided to get married."

Kanna did not have to say anything.

They packed the remaining supplies in silence and walked back toward the shelter with gradually slower steps. Just as the sun disappeared behind yet another layer of gray clouds, Kaito turned to Rika who was beside him—hair wild from the wind, ash-streaked face, but eyes still glimmering.

Maybe there wouldn't be much they could do now to avert it.

But at least they could walk in there together.