In Truth, I Was Afraid

Exhaustion overwhelmed the group, and a desperate acceptance forced them to stop for the night. Fukuoka would have to wait one more day. There were few hotels left and fewer fuel depots, so the group stopped at the hotel across from the first station they found, where they immediately refueled the van before heading into the lodging for whatever fitful sleep awaited. Kureha’s throat burned like a hot knife was stuck in her windpipe. When she tried to speak, it felt like a vice grip locked inside her neck that strangled any sound from escaping. Words would come but at great strain and no volume.

Upon entering their overnight room, there were no sighs of relief for the welcoming beds, no observations of the incredible views. Shower water was warmed, and the six of them stood in the door.

“Who wants to go first?” asked Kai.

“Rin and I can, if anyone wants to join,” said Arata.

There was a pause.

“Why don’t you two just have a moment to yourselves?” said Kai, which the couple accepted with gratitude.

Shiona, Kureha, Kai, and Riku looked at one another. The shower was too small to hold the four of them. Shiona was a shell of her usual self. Kureha was half unconscious from pain and shock. Riku spoke.

“Kai, join me?” he asked.

Kai nodded in understanding. Kureha reached for Shiona and rubbed her arm. There was almost no response or reaction, aside from the smallest of exhales from Shiona’s nose as she slowly closed her eyes.

In the shower, water ran down Arata’s back as Rin pulled herself to him as close as she possibly could. Sobs could be heard over the falling stream as the two young lovers clung together as tightly as possible.

Then, Kai undressed and slowly helped Riku step into the tiled space, holding his hand for support. Their eyes met and Riku found himself laughing a soft, hollowed laugh as he held Kai’s face. The two of them embraced and stood there for minutes without moving.

Shiona undressed slowly and found herself struggling with her clasp. Shaking fingers failed to grasp their target and she slapped her hands to her side as she stomped her foot and began to cry once more. Kureha gently touched her back and began to help her. The two of them stepped into the water and stared at the walls as they both closed their eyes and exhaled.

Nightfall came, and the group began to fall asleep as they held one another. The room was warm, and the fan’s speed didn’t change when the switch was adjusted. Kureha found herself unable to rest, even though those around her faded into dreams swiftly. She lay there silently, her mind to curate any cohesive thoughts amid the cascade of memories, fears, hypotheticals, and what-if’s that were screaming within her head. An hour passed and she accepted that sleep may not come for her, and she could instead rest in the van the next morning. As she laid there, Shiona shifted from near her and slowly slid herself to the edge of the bed.

Kureha watched as her friend moved as quiet as a mouse and slid into a bathing robe and sandals. The door creaked open very softly, and Shiona was gone. Kureha was unsure what she felt as she watched Shiona leave, but a nagging dread in her told her not to let her friend go anywhere alone unless Shiona said otherwise. Following her friend’s lead, Kureha quietly moved from the bed, slid into a robe herself, grabbed her purse and card key, then exited the room to follow.

Outside, the hall was lit in low yellow halogen. No other room seemed occupied, but Kureha still found herself tiptoeing along as weightlessly as possible. Shiona was nowhere to be seen. Kureha made her way across the entire floor before accepting that Shiona was not there. Keys only allowed them onto their designated floor, so Kureha assumed that Shiona had gone down to the ground floor. Down she went, and when the doors opened, the lobby was empty, except for Shiona, who was sitting in a leather chair, looking out the lobby windows at the quiet world beyond.

No one worked at the hotel it seemed. The check-in system was automated, and as Kureha exited the elevator, it felt like she had entered some sort of dream vortex where her and Shiona were the only souls alive, trapped forever in a quaint hotel in Okayama. A heavy blanket was draped over Shiona’s shoulders. Her back was to the elevator, but she heard the door beep as it opened and she knew she had company.

Kureha didn’t try to speak as she approached.

“I wondered who would be the first to come find me,” Shiona laughed in an exhausted tone. Her eyes were blood red and her cheeks were raw by now.

‘Want me to leave?” Kureha struggled to ask.

“You’re okay. I just needed a moment. I was freezing in that bed but I knew you all were warm. I’m so cold,” Shiona said.

Shivers shook her body as she continued staring out the window at the distant streetlights and other darkened buildings. No cars or people were visible. All was still. Kureha found it unpleasant at that moment, as though they were on a movie set that forgot to hire extras.

“I’m so cold,” repeated Shiona as she closed her eyes and breathed heavy, slow breaths while rubbing her arms with her hands.

“Here,” said Kureha as she knelt beside her and began to rub her shoulders as well.

“Thank you,” sighed Shiona.

Kureha’s head rested on her shoulder after several moments of warming her.

“Thank you,” Shiona repeated.

“We’ll be there tomorrow, won’t we?” Shiona asked even though she knew the answer.

Kureha nodded.

“We actually made it. It’s almost over,” Shiona said.

Her words were interesting to Kureha. Shiona seemed to sense her companion’s curiosity.

“I almost hung myself a few days before your birthday party. I didn’t know if life was worth it with so little left. I wrote you all a letter. I didn’t think I was brave enough to see this to the end. I was sitting there naked, selling photos of myself in a collapsing world, and it was all just too much. Nothing mattered anymore, or at least that’s what I felt that night. I'm sorry.”

She wiped her eyes.

“But then Riku. Riku…” the tears returned.

“That kind boy told me Kai was coming to stay with him and he wanted to surprise you with a birthday reunion… We were all going to be together again like a friend group once more. After so long. Even though we knew your next birthday was to be our end. From that moment, I had strength. It faded, every day as we got closer, it faded and I became more afraid again. But I held on to that strenght. I wanted to keep going. You all helped me stay strong. I wanted to be with you all as long as I could. Even if I was afraid. Now, it’s almost over, and I don’t have to be afraid anymore,” she admitted.

Kureha was shocked. Shiona had always seemed so strong and confident.

“Shiona… I’m sorry… I had no idea…” Kureha whispered through the pain.

“It’s okay. I know we promised to be honest till the end. And in most ways I was. But I couldn’t escape that fear. It was a part of me. I fought it every day is what matters. I didn’t let it win. And you helped me see that. You have been so brave, strong, and defiant. Your anger made me happy. I knew, after seeing you, I wanted to be like you. I want to live till the very end, out of spite. Out of defiance. As a challenge to it. I won’t let The Calamity win. Even if I’m scared, I’ll be with you.”

Kureha felt an all-too-familiar sting in her eyes as Shiona spoke. Her rage was no longer just hers. Just like her heart and her life, it existed within the many others she cared for so very deeply. Shiona continued.

“That’s how I felt, until today. Today I almost lost. When I saw that thing, I saw myself hanging from my ceiling beam. Like it was reminding me of what I almost did. I don’t know if it was just my internal fear, or what, but I’ve never been so afraid. Laying in bed in the dark, I felt like it was already here, smothering me. Closing my eyes was too similar to the darkness of that void. And now, I can’t seem to warm up. I’m so cold,” she said one final time as she began to weep in terror again.

Kureha opened Shiona’s bundle of blankets and crawled into her lap then rewrapped the two of them in the soft warmth of the cotton. Kureha’s arms held Shiona’s shoulders as Shiona held her waist.

“My baby girl…” sighed Shiona.

“I’ll be with you to keep you warm, always,” said Kureha as their heads rested against one another.

In the expanse of eternity and the realms that come before and afterwards, time does not exist. If something never ends, it seemingly can never begin either. Existence is not an effect and does not have a cause. Consciousness creates time, and when consciousness ends, so too does the very nature of reality. In that haunted, empty hotel lobby, perhaps they could shatter that rule. Perhaps they could never end. Kureha found herself praying for that once more as she held her friend and waited for the night to end.

Hours passed, and neither of them said another word, nor did they sleep. Kureha’s throat was now in so much pain it felt as though her jaw was locking from strain. The ligaments that connected to her chest seemed to have been torn as well from the explosive release. Still, she did not want to move from that chair. Eventually, Shiona shifted and smiled when she saw Kureha’s purse.

“Do you have your camera?” she asked.

“Yes,” replied Kureha, as the camera was always with her.

“Do you want to take a photo of me? You still need one of me, don’t you? That can be our interview,” Shiona said with a yawn.

Kureha realized Shiona was correct. She was the only friend to not yet be photographed. Arata and Rin. Kai. Riku. Now her. After that, Kureha was satisfied.

“I was really hoping to take nude photos of you, but this will work,” grinned Kureha.

“We can do that tomorrow. Maybe I’ll face The Calamity in full exposed glory,” grinned Shiona.

“Maybe that’s what will stop it. I’ve seen you naked. It’s an incredibly powerful image,” laughed Kureha.

“If only the scientists had called me sooner,” said Shiona as Kureha stood to grab her purse.

Shiona wrapped herself back in the blanket so that only her head was exposed. Her chin rested on the top fold of the fabric and her gaze returned to the outside world. Kureha studied the moment to decide what composition she wanted. It was decided that Shiona would be turned from the camera slightly, with the view only seeing her in partial profile as the low light of the windows filled the background.

The darkness seemed as though it was The Calamity itself, yet within that darkness, the blurred bokehs of the streetlights shined like small orbs within the emptiness. It was a peaceful, melancholy, somewhat sinister image of a young woman facing the darkness head-on, even if it required the support of a comfortable blanket and the welcome of the occasional bright spot.