Ashes to Ashes

Arata hit the ground hard, he felt the air rush out of him. Toma had landed right on him. For a moment, all he could do was lie, staring up at the stars.

Voices screamed from the window above.

“Are you guys, okay?!” This cry was Hana, she was by his side shaking him.

Arata finally lifted his head, his head swimming. They were in a bush, it would’ve been much worse had they landed even a foot to the right. He lifted his hand to his shoulder and felt something warm and wet. Blood.

He let out a shaky breath, then realized it wasn’t his. Toma’s Torso was laying across him.

“Toma!” Arata extracted himself from under him and grabbed him. “Talk to me!”

Toma wheezed, waving him off. “It’s just a shoulder scratch. I’ll be okay if we get a band-aid. He laughed at his own bit, but turned pale. He was right, at least. The shot did go through his shoulder. He should live if they stopped the bleeding.

Hana was already ripping the end of the blanket rope and was tying it around Toma’s shoulder.

When she was done, they helped Toma to his feet. “We need to get out of here before she rallies her followers.” Arata said, heaving Toma over his shoulder.

“You idiot,” Hana hissed, tears welling up as she took Toma’s other shoulder. “I thought you were dead.”

“I’m okay,” Toma gasped in obvious pain. “Really. Let’s get out of here.”

Arata scanned the side ally and dragged his friends down it at a semi jog. “This way. Now.”

They zoomed down the narrow streets, feet thumping hard against the cobblestone, their breathing ragged. Behind them, the temple’s voices were growing more rowdy. Cultists and followers were scattering, and the whole town seemed alive with noise and tension.

Arata kept a tight grip on Toma’s arm, glancing at him every few seconds. He looked okay.

His mind flashed back to the vision. Hamta’s eyes. The gun. The shot. It had all come true. But somehow, they had made it through.

For now.

“We have to leave,” Toma said hoarsely. “We can’t stay in town.”

Hana didn’t look back, she just replied with cold determination, “Yeah. It’s over.”

They tore through the darkened streets of Minakasa, their stolen shrine robes trailing behind them like tattered flags. Every step was clearly agonizing for Toma, but they didn’t slow. He clenched his teeth and they kept going.

“We can’t keep running like this,” Hana gasped, stumbling. “You two need to change... blend in.”

Toma looked dizzy, sweat beading on histemple. “She’s right. We’ll never make it out looking like this.”

Arata gritted his teeth, My place. It’s closest.”

“Go,” Toma barked as they darted down an alley. The faint glow of torches flickered behind them—cultists sweeping the streets, calling out in low, angry voices. The town was fracturing. Some were shouting in protest against the sacrifice, but others... others were hunting.

By the time they burst through the back door of Arata’s house, they were breathless and shaking. Feima was waiting in the kitchen, eyes wide with terror.

“What’s happening? I heard shouting—Toma, you’re hurt!”

“No time to explain,” Aratasaid sharply, already stripping off his robe. He tossed it to the floor and grabbed a towel from the counter, stuffing it against Toma’s bleeding shoulder. “We have to leave. Now.”

Feima moved fast, helping Toma out of his torn robes. “He’s burning up. I’ll give him some antibiotics.”

She had just finished properly bandaging Toma when Arata caught her wrist, his voice rough. “Feima... Mom… thank you. For everything. For not giving up on me. We’re leaving, but I want to tell you I’ll never forget that you tried your best.”

“You’re a good boy.” she said tapping the side of his face.

Arata forced a smile. “I forgive you... for all of it. Just... stay safe, while we’re gone, okay?”

Tears spilled over as she hugged him fiercely, and Hana gave them a moment. Her eyes kept flicking toward the window though. “We need a way out. Fast.”

Feima pulled back, wiping her eyes. “Try Mr. Okasei, he told me how grateful he was to you three. He lives nearby and he’s got that old roadster of his. If anyone can help, it’s him.”

Arata and Hana exchanged a glance and nodded. Without another word, Arata finished dressing and helped Toma up, to change too. Once they were in dark new clothes. He packed some basic necessities and scooped up Toma’s rucksack. It didn’t feel real. They leaving Minakasa for good. Abandoning their home, it was a harsh truth to face, but they gritted their teeth and moved forward out into the night.

Okasei’s house was eerily quiet when they arrived, but the old man himself answered the door within seconds, blinking in surprise. His eyes flicked over Toma’s bandaged shoulder, then to the grim expressions on their faces.

“Kids...” His voice was hoarse. “I was worried when I heard the news. The sacrifice—Hana, thank the Creator you’re safe.”

“We need your help,” Toma said quickly. “We have to leave town. Tonight.”

Okasei didn’t hesitate. “Say no more.”

He led them to a battered old blue roadster parked behind his house, fumbling with the keys. “I’ve been hoping I’d get a chance to pay you back properly. Get in.”

The drive out of Minakasa was quiet, the roadster’s engine hummed quietly as it climbed into the hills. The town fell away behind them, the glow of the mob’s torches faded away. No one spoke much. The weight of their choice was heavy.

When Okasei finally pulled over near a quiet cove by the lakeside, he sighed, resting his hands on the wheel. “This is as far as I can take you. Fuel’s low.”

Arata nodded, stepping out onto the gravel. The moonlight shone on the water below, serene and haunting. “Thank you. For everything.”

Okasei reached out, gripping Arata’s arm tightly. “Stay safe. And... stay strong.”

They stood there, not saying anything, the old man’s gaze lingering on each of them as if he was trying to memorize their faces.

Okasei reached into the driver’s door and popped the trunk, he walked round and pulled out a tightly rolled bundle. “Here, take this,” he said, handing it to Arata. “Some supplies and a tent. Old but reliable, like me,” The old man chuckled

. “If you’re really planning to head out there, you’ll need shelter at some point.”

Arata took it with both hands, surprised. “Thank you. For everything.”

Okasei gave a tired smile, resting a hand briefly on Arata’s shoulder. “You kids take care of each other. Stay safe.” He drove off.

The three of them stood in silence, staring down at the lake. The water rippled gently.

Then something cold brushed Arata’s cheek.

He looked up.

Snow?

No... not snow.

Ash.

It drifted softly down, swirling in the air, settling on their shoulders and hair.

Arata remembered the snow-covered city from his vision, and suddenly everything clicked into place.

“It’s starting,” he said quietly, his voice empyy. “The end.”

Hana shook her head in denial. “No. It can’t be—”

Arata turned to her, his face pale, eyes hard. “You know it’s true. We’ve been lying to ourselves this whole time.”

He tugged the ring from his neck, staring down at the silver that had caused him so many bruises, and yet somehow comforted him. He drew his arm back and flung it out over the water. It arced through the air and disappeared beneath the surface with a faint splash.

“Bye, dad” he whispered, almost too faint for anyone to hear.

Hana started to cry. “It’s about time!” she said.

Arata nodded at her, and looked at Toma, cradling his shoulder. “Sorry about earlier.” He croaked, trying not to cry.

The three of them stood there, shoulders touching, watching as the ash fell around them like grim confetti.

“So, where to next?” Toma asked, trying to sound more cheerful.

Arata stared west, toward the distant horizon. He smiled as he answered/ “Sekikyo.”

Toma blinked, frowning. “What? Why?”

Arata looked at him, eyes sharp and sad. “You were right. I had to let go of my father. But you gave up on yours too early.”

Toma’s mouth opened, then closed. His fists clenched at his sides. “Pocket screens aren’t working anymore. I haven’t heard from him in over a month. He’s probably...”

“We don’t know that,” Hana said softly, stepping closer. You’re the only one of us with family left worth saving. We may as well try and find him.”

Toma was quiet for a long moment, “The walk will kill us. Especially if this ash keeps falling.”

Arata shrugged, a sad smile tugging at his lips. “Then we die trying.”

Hana nodded.