A Wake for the World

As Toma predicted, Okasei’s speech had done the trick in calming down their peers. It was equal parts mundane and reassuring. 

By the time he was done, most students were content to sit in smaller groups, whispering with friends while they waited for more information. It felt oddly like a funeral or wake to Arata.

Some parents had started to trickle in and take their kids home, although others waited, hoping they would get word from the mayor’s office.

Minakasa was quite a tight-knit community, so it wasn't surprising to Arata that some folks were itching to address their local authority.

He, Hana, and Toma were huddled in a shaded corner near the courtyard’s fence, whispering about Arata’s suspicions.

“You think you saw something different?” Hana repeated, her gray eyes wide.

“Well, I guess so? The newscasts just keep talking about those images of destruction…”

Toma snorted. “And what? You saw a future where we’re all riding unicorns and frolicking through rivers of candy?”

Hana laughed. So did Arata, despite his annoyance.

“No, I saw all that stuff too, but that’s not all I saw. There were also things that were more specific. More... personal.” He blushed, remembering Hana’s vision counterpart leaning in close. “Like flashes from my perspective. Did you guys see anything like that?”

Hana shook her head, as Toma answered for both of them.

“I saw cities falling to pieces. Earthquakes, tsunamis... disaster movie stuff, y’know.”

“What exactly did you see?” Hana asked, leaning in, eager.

“Well, for starters... Okasei, in his office with that letter opener,” Arata said.

His friends exchanged loaded glances.

“I thought you looked pale back there,” Toma muttered.

“You believe me?” Arata asked, his shoulders relaxing in relief.

“Twenty-six hours ago, all of this would have seemed mad, Ara,” Hana said, hugging her knees tightly. Her nails were digging into her skin in a way that made Arata wince. Her calm façade seemed more fragile than ever.

“So, what else did you see, man?” Toma prompted.

“A few things... a dead greenfox.” Hana gave Arata a sharp look. He had forgotten he had told her about what his dad used to say when they were little. He moved on quickly before she could say anything. “There was some old guy playing Shorin, and... you,” Arata said, glancing back at Hana.

“Me?” Hana blinked. “What was I doing?”

Arata hesitated, fiddling with his father’s ring.

“We were on the side of a cliff. Just standing,” he added quickly, probably a tad too defensively. “Birds were falling out of the sky, and there was a city covered in snow...”

“Any idea which city?” Toma asked, rising to stretch his legs.

“Not really...” Arata admitted sheepishly.

Toma clicked his tongue. “Tch. Figures the town’s biggest yokel is the one who ends up getting the special premonitions.”

Arata scowled, but Hana seemed lost in thought.

“Premonition? So you think he saw the future? Like his personal future?”

“I don’t see any other explanation,” Toma said, crossing his arms.

“That’s ridiculous,” Hana snapped, standing up. “There’s just no way that’s true.”

“Unless you think he’s lying about seeing Okasei earlier, it’s the only thing that fits,” Toma replied coolly.

“There’s no such thing as destiny. This whole thing... the voice, the visions. It’s got to be a hoax.”

Her voice had risen. A few students turned their heads, curiosity flashing across their faces.

Arata wanted to believe it was all a lie too. During Okasei’s speech, he kept checking his pocket screen. Conspiracy threads were flooding in, each more outlandish than the last.

Many contended it was some kind of mass delusion or a hypnotic trance caused by society’s dependence on modern technology, or foreign operatives utilizing humanity’s innate psychic powers to spread propaganda.

Arata couldn’t buy into those ideas, but he would rather believe something like that than face the idea it could be truly otherworldly. A plot from a hostile nation like Malenkov would feel much less daunting.

Toma shrugged, lowering his voice.

“Look, that voice... It wasn't normal. The visions. They felt real, like I was experiencing them, not just seeing them. I don’t want to believe it either, but you’re not doing yourself any favors by living in denial.”

He placed a hand on Hana’s shoulder, but she shrugged it off, hugging herself tighter.

The courtyard buzzed around them, several teachers were having tense discussions with a few of the parents who continued to trickle in and out.

Arata’s gaze drifted.

A few yards away, Danza sat slumped under a tree. He was alone. His eyes looked haunted, staring straight down to the ground, but every so often Arata could’ve sworn he turned to glance at them.

“Hey... look over there,” Arata whispered.

Hana and Toma turned, his eyes narrowed.

“He’s... off,” Toma muttered.

Arata nodded. That punk was downplaying the voice and vision earlier, but he seemed far more affected than his earlier bravado let on. Maybe that’s why he lashed out at Koda.

Koda was one of the first to be picked up by a parent. The poor guy was still muttering to himself. Arata couldn’t help but feel that his response was perhaps the sanest of all of them.

The wind stirred loose some litter that blew across the courtyard, fluttering against the fence. It drew their eyes to the school banner rippling above, the Minakasa crest glaring down on everyone.

“We should look into that cult,” Hana said firmly. “The one Okasei mentioned. That symbol connects our town to the visions. It can’t be a coincidence.”

“I’ll go back and look at that burned-down shrine near my place,” Arata promised, touching his lapel badge absently. When researching for their report, he had just done some cursory reading into it as a place of note, but he didn’t bother to really look into its history or what caused it to be abandoned.

“My dad might know something. I’ll message him,” Toma muttered, gaze unfocused. “He’s stuck in Sekikyo, working overtime to keep Vanguard’s approval ratings high while they fumble through the crisis. Too busy saving the world to come home.”

Arata hesitated, then asked, “So... are you heading back with him soon?”

Toma shook his head, expression darkening. “Nah. Not yet. Actually... I was gonna ask, do you reckon your stepmom would mind if I crash at yours?”

“Won’t your chauffeur be here any second?” Arata asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Nah. He bailed. Messaged my dad that he had to take a sabbatical due to a family emergency. I can’t blame him. Honestly, who’s sticking around after that? My dad’s already told all the staff to leave if they want.”

Arata could only nod as Toma continued.

“Dad and I agreed that the mansion might not be too safe if I’m on my own, given everything that’s going on. I told him I’d sort myself out and find a friend to stay with.”

“I think it’ll be fine. Faima always cooks way too much. Things with her and me are always a bit awkward too, so it might be nice to have a guest, especially while we wait for news about all this…”

Toma gave him a big clap on the shoulder as a thanks, which Arata endured. He should probably tell his buddy that he had a thing about being touched, but Arata was always too conflict averse to mention minor annoyances like that.

Okasei stood up and approached the stage’s microphone again. After some formalities, he told everyone that the mayor’s office had sent someone to say that there would be a meeting in town hall tomorrow to address concerns, and that school was out for the day.

Everyone slowly started to make their exit after that. The three of them remained seated longer than most since Toma and Hana had picked up their bickering about the nature of the visions.

Arata kept to his own thoughts as they finally got up and walked out the school gate.

He unchained his dicycle and wheeled it along the path, eyes on the horizon. The sun was still blazing, but the world felt dim.