The Sun’s Gone Dim and The Sky’s Gone Black

Waves rocked the boat ever so slightly as the vessel made its way cautiously across the open waters of the Pacific Ocean. By now they had been out to sea for over ten hours. The friends briefly slept together, cloistered tight against the boat’s damp sidewall, trying desperately to gather strength for the first leg of their journey.

Kureha’s dreams were fitful. Images of her mother’s funeral flickered in the corners of her mind as muffled explosions sounded around her. Teenaged Kureha stood in a field of flowers, screaming to the sky until a dark void not unlike The Calamity rose from the ground and wrapped itself around her body. As her younger self screamed out for help, comfort, release, or company, nothing rescued her. Darkness consumed her until she was a shadowy figure standing among the colorful blossoms, spreading her putrid darkness out onto the land. Then, five hands tore through the earth below and dug into the darkness. There, they clawed and clawed, scooping out pieces of Kureha bit by bit, until all of her essence was removed from that void.

Those pieces worked together to rebuild themselves. Piece formed against piece, resealing and rebinding. Cracks remained where the breaks had occurred, but still, the pieces reformed. They reformed slowly and steadily until soon Kureha was there once more.

Sprays of ocean mist vaulted over the boat’s railing, splashing onto Kureha’s head and waking her. None of the others woke. It was hard to see them in the absence of light, but their scents and familiar sounds of heavy, sleepy breathing told her they were near. In that moment, she knew her dream was about them. Through years of steady smoothing, they had helped rebuild her from the shattered, darkened person she had become. Their words, actions, and support had helped pull her out of that void so that she could rebuild herself. Looking at them now, her rage lovingly stepped aside to let gratitude and love take center stage in her mind. Her love for them would outlast The Calamity, even if they did not.

An hour later, they were there. The coastline appeared as a foreboding wall rising from the charcoal fog. Hokkaido was waiting. It took some time to find the targeted docking point, but once their carrier did, she tied the boat in place and waited for them to exit. The friends turned to thank her, but she was already untying her moorings and steering back to the water. Within seconds, she was gone. Now, they were alone. They had made it back to their island, and all that waited was a one-hundred and sixty seven kilometer walk to reach their neighborhood.

Just like Oma, Tomakomai welcomed them with empty streets and silent homes. Streetlights still shone on their automated timers, letting the friends know it was technically nighttime beyond the void. The faint glow of the street lamps allowed them to conserve their flashlights for the time being. Their hands linked together once Kai had the backpack situated, and the six of them began the long walk.

Light’s absence meant that all of the world stayed perpetually coated in a dark midnight greyish-blue hue. Gravity’s pull continued to increase, making the walk even more tedious. Footfall and the tapping of a single cane were the only sounds to be heard. None of them spoke. It was becoming too challenging.

Before them, the highway stretched out so far that it vanished into the fog and nothingness, but they knew they were to follow that until the end. Its asphalt path would lead them straight to Asahikawa. Tilted power line poles appeared above them on occasion, like ominous watchers. Railings told​ them when they were crossing streams or gaps. Hours passed, and they continued on, hand in hand.

Meals were consumed with haste so that walking could resume. If someone needed to stop to relieve themselves, they merely stepped off the road for a moment then used a few sheets of rough toilet paper for cleanliness before rejoining the group and continuing the walk.

Arata took the backpack next as Kureha and Rin massaged Kai’s shoulders. Time was an unreadable sentence in a long-lost language by now. There was no way to gauge how far they had gone, or how long they had been moving. Their only measurement was the consistently spaced gaps between the highway lights. Their yellow glow floated on unseen poles up ahead of them at all times, and that gave them guidance to work towards. In her mind, Kureha had counted several hundreds of them before losing track and giving up.

The group walked until their feet burned. Riku’s palm screamed in exhaustion after lifetimes of pressing against the cane handle in a newly weighted strain. Once they decided to stop, they found a flat patch of firm ground near what looked like an old farming community. Tarps were set on the ground. Packaging for the tent was cast aside in carefree abandon. Flashlights illuminated the instructions as the six of them worked together on their first pass at assembling the structure.

They had shelter within minutes, and were quickly inside, zipping the door shut to block the darkness from reaching them in their sanctuary. Once inside the tent, the faint highway lights were even weaker now behind the fabric. It was almost impossible to see one another, and Kureha felt a rising dread that she may never fully see her friends’ faces again. Her breathing intensified as the panic rose, and she forced herself to exhale. A hand was on her back and she knew it was Kai’s. By now, they were all familiar with the differences in pressure and palm size that came from each of the six pairs of hands.

Kureha forced herself to steady her psyche before it spiraled out of control. Her hands found the small body that she knew was Rin. Her tiny frame was barely a shadow in the darkness now, yet feeling her near gave Kureha comfort.

Arata understood the rising dread and sacrificed a few precious moments of battery life in his flashlight to illuminate the small space. The light shined out like a garish candle, but it was welcomed like a small god as the six of them looked to one another. Kureha’s tears fell for only a moment as she stared at them all with intention so that their visages could be burned into her mind with absolute clarity. All of them looked to one another and slowly began tracing the faces and bodies of those around them. Arata turned his light off, and the six of them allowed their fingers to caress and map the cheekbones, brows, necks, lips, noses, ears, hairlines, collarbones, throats, and shoulders of their loved ones who would soon be invisible to them.

Exhaustion and despair overtook them and the six of them slept dreamless for a few hours before waking and beginning the walk once more.

What was the equivalence of days passed like this. The darkness grew and soon their flashlights could barely reach a meter ahead of them. The once visible glow of the highway lights were now pinpoint dots of yellowish white within the nearly all-encompassing midnight. Through it all, their hands stayed clasped together.

When it was time to rest, the hardened ground offered little relief, but the heaviness of gravity and the deadness of their souls meant that sleep came easily. On occasion, Kureha would wake to strange sounds outside their tent, and she wondered what curious animal was stalking or observing them. No harm ever came to them though. The rustling sounds and deep inhales of unknown beasts were all that she ever encountered.

Chafed thighs burned with each step. Blistered feet bled into socks. Clothes stank with sweat and dirt as bodily fluids drained into fabric and mixed with soot. Still, they clung together without end. Nine sleeps occured in that tent, and Kureha wondered if it had been nine days or merely two and they were simply too tired to move without constant rest. She prayed it would be over soon. She prayed the familiar curves of Asahikawa’s roads would soon greet them. Before that, The Calamity had one final challenge.

The six of them were asleep in the tent when they all began to lift from the ground. Where gravity had only moments earlier been oppressive and unbearable, it seemed to vanish now, and they drifted up inches into the air. All of them awoke, confused and frightened. Screams for one another let them find hands and hold tight. Rin’s flashlight flickered on and the ever-weakened glow let them see one another’s terrified faces as they rose meters into the air, pulling into the top of the tent.

Horror flooded Kureha’s mind as she felt the tent pulling up from its stakes. It seemed as though they were to be abandoned by the earth and cast into the sky. Then, gravity’s brutal pull returned. The six of them were slammed into the ground as though they had been body-slammed in a fight. The force cracked Arata’s wounded rib once more, undoing the weeks of healing and causing him to shout out in agony. Shiona’s wrist bent out of place and dislocated, forcing her to writhe in mortified shock.

Then they lifted into the air once more. This time they went even higher, and it felt like the tent might come undone. Then the slam came once more. Kureha tried not to brace herself out of fear of breaking a limb. Instead, she pulled her body as tightly together into a ball as possible. The slam knocked every ounce of life from her lungs, leaving her on the ground gasping for air. All around her, her friends gasped in horror and pain. Outside, a distant yelp of a wolf and the rising calls of confused birds told them that they were not alone in this attack. Mercifully, no more fluctuations occurred, but the damage had been done.

Sleep didn’t return after that, and once the six of them had the strength to move, they rose, disassembled the tent, and set off once more. Now, all of them were limping with Riku. Kureha’s tears did not end.

On they went, not speaking, barely breathing, barely alive. They may have walked longer than ever before this time. Death’s whispers nipped at their heels and something beyond survival instinct was driving them. Grunts of strain and cries of pain echoed through the void as they made their way up a hill until a small exit sign appeared on the highway above them.

‘Asahikawa This Way. 2 kilometers’ said the sign, with an arrow pointing to the right.

They were there. Kureha knew what exit they were on. This was the part of the highway where she had filmed them singing to the rock song all those eons ago. Their home was only fifteen or so kilometers away.

The realization was like an adrenaline boost that caused them to all laugh in shock and relief. They were almost there. Their steps gained momentum as lucidity left them. Delirious chants of excitement echoed out against the empty, once-familiar buildings as the six young people limped as fast as they could toward their final destination.

An hour later, they were at their street. The all-too-familiar red speed limit sign on the power pole told them they were nearly there. Houses they had seen thousands of times before reached out from the void as almost recognizable shapes. Kureha’s breathing was rushing through her bruised ribs now as tears ran down her face without realizing.

Trees from their neighborhood park pointed them along their path, telling them that Kureha’s home was only a few hundred meters away. The six of them were almost running now. Even Riku seemed to be galloping an elated, hallucinatory stride towards the landmark. The park ended, and the final remaining homes flew by them until there it was; Kureha’s house, followed by Riku’s. They were home. They had made it.

As the six of them collapsed onto the asphalt in hysterical sobs, Kureha’s hand reached out for the familiar steps of her childhood.