The Last Days of Summer

Sweat ran down Kureha’s face as the sweltering heat of July covered the island in a searing haze. The friends had been in Fukuoka for almost a month now. Dark roots of Kureha’s natural hair color had appeared as the growth pushed her dyed red further down with time. These days, she wore her hair tied in a bun as the ability to tend to it had become severely limited. The heat of the air caused perspiration to pull strands of her formerly bright hair onto her neck with damp attachment. Even though the sun wasn’t visible, the heat remained. Kureha never got used to the sensation.

That afternoon, she was helping with intake, as more and more people had started flooding the island in desperate reverie. If projections were to be believed, the universe had maybe a month left. That realization had driven people to Marrakech and Fukuoka in droves, as people all around the world clamored to see the near-sacred sites with their own eyes before the end.

By now, The Calamity had spread over all of Asia, Europe, Africa, and much of The Americas. The end was coming soon. To the surprise of many, violence and depravity didn’t explode in chaotic fervor as the threat of annihilation grew closer and closer. Society held true; with a lack of nationalism or scarcity to push people to despise one another, much of the world simply wanted to enjoy its final days in peace. At the 38th Parallel, the borders between North and South Korea finally fell, and families that had been separated for generations were able to hold their loved ones one final time.

As Kureha and Riku counted new arrivals and coordinated with Arata, who was managing facility capacities, Kureha found herself no longer even thinking of the end. Rage had subsided into the pleasant depths of her soul, and now all that remained was a melancholy acceptance. Days of care became routine as the world became darker and darker.

As the light was further consumed, the thunderous booms from the void gathered in intensity. Occasionally, one of the friends would try to lighten the mood by calling the terrifying rumble an ‘Earth Burp’, as they had decreed a month ago. More often than not, they merely flinched in fear as the unexpected sound shook their bones. The gathering intensity and frequency of them left the group, and many others, with a lingering concern that something else was coming.

As the world waited to see what the rumbling thunder signified, a new anomaly appeared from the void. Shimmers were now being created in real-time from the lives of those in the present. Moments that had just passed would replay in an ethereal loop before fading. Streaks of milliseconds would drift behind someone as they walked, like tracers made of frames from a film. More than once, Kureha turned around to see a haunting spectral version of herself following her and repeating the movements she had just committed.

In the face of everything that had happened, the friends seemed to accept the strange new anomaly in stride. Laughter and sorrow both calmed and retreated as a heavy lightness permeated their thoughts and hearts in those final days.

It was with that temperament that Kureha found herself wiping her sweat away on her dirty arm as she examined her clipboard that afternoon.

“That’s two hundred more, just today,” she said.

Riku nodded as he took her clipboard to pass to the next round of volunteers that were approaching.

‘Shift’s up. I’m curious how many more arrive before the festival,” he pondered.

A final festival had been planned. For hundreds of lifetimes, summer festivals had been a staple of existence in Japan. It only seemed fitting there should be one more. No one led the planning of the event, but it organically grew in scope and planning until all the island was aware. Once the mainland heard, they agreed to join in. Along with the regular crowds of new faithful and desperate wanderers, the festival had drawn even more attention to the island. The friends had chatted and decided it would be best to leave the island for the night to escape the rapid influx of visitors. They would watch the festival from the mainland at the Takara Shirine.

The shrine was famous for its lantern-lined steps that looked out to the vast cityscape below. It was far enough away that most would not prioritize it for viewing, which made it ideal for the six young people who were wanting a quiet, reflective viewing of the festivities.

After passing off her clipboard and intake logs, Kureha joined Riku as they made their way to the medical station, where Kai and Shiona were helping tend to several small injuries. The two of them saw their friends and waved in acknowledgment. Shiona was working with a former nurse to administer IV’s for a handful of people who had suffered heat stroke. Kai was helping a young man into a wheelchair. Moments later, they signed off on their tasks for the day and joined Kureha and Riku. From there, they made their way to the food halls, where Rin was serving miso soup to children. Lastly, they found Arata categorizing his notes on the island’s population.

The six of them rinsed in their showers and changed into summertime yukata that were found in an abandoned store nearby. All of them had wanted a night of traditional clothing, so it was a relief to find options, even if the sizing and patterning was not perfectly ideal. Kureha smiled at the bright ornamentation that lined her robe as she affixed her belt.

“You look beautiful,” said Kai as he passed by her and familiarly squeezed her hand.

The wounds to his face were all but healed now. A small scar lined his cheek, but his eyes were no longer swollen or blackened. His slight smile as he looked over his shoulder gave Kureha a calm, nostalgic feeling.

“You look very nice,” she said.

“Thank you. Mine’s actually pretty comfortable,” he said as he looked at the fabric. His tattooed arm poked out from the sleeve.

Watching him turn, Kureha appreciated just how handsome he had become over the years. His being in Osaka through most of puberty had meant that she didn’t get to see him age in a natural progression. Any time he appeared, it was a newer, taller, huskier version of himself. Seeing him now, he was a young man. Kureha found herself blushing as she reflected on the quiet, intimate moments the two of them had shared.

“I missed you. God I missed you. All of you. Osaka was very hard,” he said out of nowhere.

His words pulled her thoughts back to the present. He was facing her now, his eyes fully on her.

“I’m so happy I got to come on this trip with all of you. I’m happy we all got to be together again. I’m happy I got to reconnect with you. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed all of us,” he said.

Kureha shook her head.

“You were in my heart. No matter how far into the dark I went, the five of you were always there with me in my spirit. That kept me from doing anything permanent or truly reckless,” Kureha said as she held his gaze.

“But, I am so very happy you are here now. We wouldn’t have made it without you,” she whispered.

“Agreed,” said Riku as he entered in his yukata.

“I love you. Both of you. All of you,” said Kai.

Shiona entered with Rin and Arata.

“I love you all too,” said Shiona.

“As do I,” agreed Rin.

“Always,” said Arata.

“Always,” agreed Kureha.

The six of them approached one another in a soft embrace and held their connection for what could have been an hour or a second. Around them, Shimmers of themselves appeared and replayed the moment of their touch.

“Oh!” cried Rin with a shattered smile as she watched herself walking into the embrace of those she cherished most.

“Wow…” whispered Arata as he took her hand and observed the loop of them all holding one another.

Shiona began to cry once more.

“Oh no, my makeup…” she laughed as she wiped her eyes.

The six of them stood there watching their apparitions hug each other until they faded into the dark. Outside, a booming roar of thunder shook the very ground. Kureha tensed then exhaled.

“Ready?” asked Riku as another thunderous boom echoed out.