The Last Unanswered Prayers

All across Fukuoka, lanterns were passed through the crowds of thousands that were now gathered on the beaches and balconies to view the upcoming fireworks. Along with the lanterns, a single candle and a piece of paper were provided. Thousands of writing utensils of all times were distributed. Not one person spoke. Directions were understood.

Even the friends had made sure to procure the appropriate materials before loading into the van to exit the island and make their way to the shrine. The thunderous booms were near constant now, and Kureha found a nervous uneasiness coursing through her hands and arms as they crossed the bridge towards the mainland. Hordes of people were gathered now, and Kureha could not help but feel a sense of concern about capacity and maintaining any more volume in these next few remaining weeks.

Those thoughts kept her occupied along the entirety of the drive as they made their way inland and up the mountain, until at last they reached the picturesque shrine. To their relief, only a small contingent of other viewers was there. The six of them exited the van and made their way across the shrine grounds after purifying themselves. A few hundred steps awaited them, which were ascended in patient silence as the group helped Riku navigate the steep climb. Eventually, they were at the top, where they turned to settle in and watch the festival.

Kureha unzipped her purse.

“Can I take a picture of us all together?” she asked.

“Of course!” said Rin.

Camera gear clicked into place and the mini tripod was set several feet away. Kureha found the composition she liked, and then set the automatic timer. As the numbers counted down, she rushed back to sit by her friends.

“Smiles!” said Shiona.

Everyone smiled and cheered as they waved to the camera. The lens snapped and captured their moment. Kureha rushed to look at it. Some edges were blurry as the light manipulation carried over even into the processing chip of the camera. Still, there they all were. Barely visible in the encroaching abyss, but there.

“Awww, it’s perfect,” smiled Kureha.

“Awesome!” said Arata.

By now, the darkness was all-encompassing. Sunsets and blue skies were gone, as The Calamity now curved across the entirety of the horizon. Another distant boom shook Kureha’s chest as she inhaled slow, winded breaths from the climb. The six of them sat down and distributed their candles, paper, and lanterns. The ethereal chime echoed across the city, and the building lights turned off, followed by the streetlights. Moments later, their glow faded away, and the friends began to write their prayers, hopes, and thoughts onto the pieces of paper.

Prayers for salvation. Prayers for peace. Prayers for understanding. Prayers for acceptance. Prayers for gratitude. Prayers for a swift end. Thousands upon thousands of prayers were marked upon flimsy pieces of parchment, which were then tied to the lanterns. Candles were lit and placed inside the lanterns. More prayers were whispered to the lanterns.

Back at the shrine, Kureha removed the camera’s memory card and tucked it into the lantern's bracing.

“What are you doing?” Shiona asked.

Kureha cleared her throat and forced herself to speak.

“I wanted to send this off. To whatever or whoever might be out there. Maybe, just maybe, something will see it and save us. Maybe they’ll look at this, and find a way to undo what is coming. Even if not, maybe this will reach something and at least let them know we existed. Let them know what our lives were like. Let them know we lived on, even in spite of everything. We stayed. Until the very end.”

Her friends agreed and closed their eyes in prayer and reflection. Kureha said goodbye to her days of photography and interviews and released them to the lantern. All that was left was her prayer. Staring at the blank paper triggered a sense of dread deep in her bones as she dared to have a sliver of hope.

Ink etched down the letters and symbols of a last, heartfelt plea for salvation. Desperation flooded Kureha’s heart and mind as she begged every god, spirit, and ancient being of every faith to save them.

“Please, anyone, please, save us!” she cried to herself and her lantern as her tears of absolute surrender spilled down onto the paper.

She didn’t want to die. She didn’t want her friends to die. She didn’t want this beautiful, complex, wonderful, tragic, hurtful, loving, mysterious world or existence to end. There was so much left to be done and seen. Acceptance that this was the end would never reach her heart, and as she sat on those steps, her defiance poured out one final time.

With that, she released her lantern, as did her friends and the thousands of others down below. Lovely, faint streaks of amber light appeared in waves as the thousands of prayers were carried to the heavens by the floating lanterns. Up they went, leaving their glowing streaks of past light behind. Kureha watched her lantern vanish into the sea of other lights and pleaded her prayer once more with clasped hands. Tears continued to streak her face as the fireworks began.

They arrived over the bay, with pink, yellow, blue, and orange bursts of immense light that glowed so bright it lingered in the air for dozens of seconds after exploding. Again and again the explosions filled the sky just below the void. Remnant glows continued to appear and stay until all of the bay was shining with the lingering afterglow. As the fireworks boomed across the water, no one could hear the growing thunder that was now reaching a near-incessant roar.

Only when the fireworks stopped did Riku first notice the noise. Shiona met his gaze as he looked to the void above.

“Is that the firework boom still echoing?” she asked with a nervous glance.

“I don’t think so…” said Riku.

The rumbling thunder continued to build. It came from every direction. From behind them. From above. From below. It built and built until a droning, earsplitting cacophony of sound smothered out all other noise. Rin’s hands covered her ears.

“Arata?...” she whispered.

Her husband took her hand as fear drained the color from his eyes.

Even louder bursts of concussive explosions roared across the land, causing the friends to huddle together in reactionary fear. Shiona let out a scream as another blast sounded.

Then it happened.

In a single instant, there was a flash of light, and the entirety of the Earth snapped and shifted, as though it were an apple that was snapped in half at its core. The shatter was so loud, that Kureha thought her eardrums were blown out. Screams exploded everywhere, but they went unheard as the seams of the world tore. Shimmers ripped up from the earth and tore through the sky like daggers. Shika-no-Shima was fully severed from the mainland as the scar of the rupture tore across the sea and into the mainland. A mawing roar echoed out like the sound of millions of boars being bled out at once. Then the sound pulled inward in a whirling gust that nearly pulled the friends down the steps.

Then it was over.

Sounds echoed and hurt in Kureha’s head. She felt something warm running down her ears and onto her neck. Her friends were screaming.

“Is this it?! It’s early!!!” screamed Rin.

“I don’t know! Hold on to me!!” screamed Arata.

An unseen force began to pull the insides of Kureha down to the ground. Gravity was increasing ever so slightly. All the while, water and land began to float upwards from the great scar that tore through the earth. Chunks of earth and sea drifted slowly into the sky. All the while, the prayer lanterns began to fall back down to earth as the new pull of gravity rendered them too heavy to float. Thousands upon thousands of lanterns crashed to the ground, and within seconds, fires broke out across the city.

“Oh no…” said Kai as he pointed to the sea.

Even from that distance, the friends could see that Shika-no-Shima’s innumerable lanterns were now toppled over and already creating rising fires. Hundreds of blazes lined the edges of the island, and they were starting to spread.

“Oh, oh gods no…” said Arata.

Down beneath them, the fires were already gaining strength. Patchwork blazes dotted the dry land but were spreading with ravenous speed.

“We need to go now!!” screamed Kureha.

The six of them jumped up and immediately began to descend the stairs as quickly as possible. Riku held out his arms for help and Kai and Arata instantly lifted him without a word. Down and down they went as the fires began to grow. Their rising flames hung in time like murderous glowing ghosts. The blazes were soon strong enough that the shore was visible. Then Shiona saw it.

“Oh no no no…” she said as she pointed to the ocean.

“The tide is receding…” she stated.

Indeed, they could all see that the water's edge was now hundreds of feet further back into the ocean than it had been only moments ago.

“There’s going to be a tsunami!! We have to flee! We have to leave this place!” shouted Rin.

They reached the van as quickly as they could. Even from that height, the six of them could hear the screams of thousands of people on the beach. By now, Shika-no-Shima was fully ablaze and cut off from the rest of the world.

“All those people…” cried Kureha.

As the flames rose and climbed the mountainous terrain of the island, Kureha knew in her mind that every person on there was about to be burned alive in the uncontrolled blaze. Rin floored the accelerator and the van began its descent from the shrine grounds and down to the highway. People jumped to the van in desperate plea, but Rin continued driving as tears ran down all of their faces. All around them the flames grew. In the background, far behind them, Kureha caught glimpse of a massive wave making landfall. By the time they reached the edge of the city, tens of thousands were dead.

The van didn’t stop. No one gave directions. Rin drove back the direction they had come. Something animalistic in her mind was leading her. Kureha felt panic tear through her body and she began to choke for air. Kai clasped her hand as he wept in shock. The van only stopped hours later when Rin could no longer see. Her eyes were raw as her head fell on the steering wheel.

“It’s here, isn’t it? It’s starting…” she whispered.

“I think so…” said Riku.

Rin wept.

Kureha was still in shock and couldn’t speak. The ringing pain in her ears felt like a vice grip tightening down on her skull and it was becoming hard to keep her eyes open. Riku held his hands out for Shiona and Kureha as all of them felt their minds ripping away.

“Fukuoka…” said Kai as he looked behind them at the far-gone city.

"All those people... Our stuff..." said Rin.

“We can’t go back…” said Arata.

“What do we do?” cried Shiona.

Kureha couldn’t speak. Riku looked at his friends and pulled them close as his thoughts rushed for clarity. Nothing remained behind them but destruction. A thunderous roar overhead reminded him that nowhere was safe. In the face of rising horror, a flash of familiarity burst into his thoughts. His eyes met Kureha's, and visions of that party all those many lifetimes ago pierced his mind. Defeat gave him a final idea.

“Let’s go home,” he said as tears formed.

Everyone looked up and listened. He wiped his face and thought it over once more.

“Let’s go back to Asahikawa. Even if it's a ghost town. We can meet the end there…”