13

Countdown: 154 Days Remaining.

Night had fallen by the time Makoto and Rui approached Kichijouji Station, but that didn’t stop him from seeing the figure sprinting into obscurity. From a brief glance at the muscular, bulky build, he knew it couldn’t be anyone from his camp.

Makoto was rushing toward the hideout before the weight finished dropping in the pit of his stomach.

“What the hell was that?” Rui asked, catching up to him. His footsteps sounded softer next to Makoto’s. “I couldn’t get a read on him before he got out of range.”

“I don’t know,” Makoto said, dropping into the hatch. The hollowed slab that served as a cover was nowhere to be seen. He let go of the ladder with his feet and used the sides as poles to slide down, ignoring the burning sensation in his palms as the friction of his gloves against the metal heated the fabric.

The second his feet touched the ground, he pushed himself away from the ladder and ran in the direction of his camp members, heightening his hearing to make out anything he could before reaching them.

A flurry of footsteps sped towards him, and he pulled out his monocle in time to see a trio of men hurtling his way.

Makoto only had enough time to dodge one punch before another hit him in the stomach. He gasped for air as a searing pain shot up through his chest and into his head. Despite the advanced night vision, everything went dark for a horrible moment. He felt the impact of his body hitting the ground, but little else.

Only his hearing stayed clear, especially in his mechanical ear, but he could hardly understand the sounds around him.

Someone kicked his back and he rolled over onto his stomach. Everything in him recoiled, making his body shudder. He heard the grunting and impact sounds of people fighting, and he knew one of them was Rui from the small sounds the boy made. He couldn’t tell whether Rui was throwing the punches or receiving them, but the distance from him told Makoto that at least his partner was still standing.

Before Makoto could gather enough energy to move, something -- a foot, he thought -- pressed down at the base of his spine, nailing him to the floor. The pressure increased until he feared his bones would break, then he heard something unzipping.

They’re going into my backpack, he realized with a cold shudder. Only the sanitizing pocket, which held his scope and multitool alongside a few syringes, and the energy collection device were locked by fingerprint and retina scans. The main storage pocket had only a simple latch, since it wasn’t meant to hold a great amount of supplies.

Makoto froze. His body turned to lead. Every thought in his mind screamed at him to move, but he couldn’t.

“Makoto!” Rui’s voice sounded strained as he called his name. “Forget your oath! Fight back!”

Makoto willed himself to obey, to give in to Rui’s commands, to let his instincts take over, but still he didn’t move. His hands burned against the ground, pinned by a heat that didn’t belong to them -- a slick, staining heat. In his mind he saw a face he’d tried to forget -- youthful bright eyes, a smile, a sense of excitement, followed by pain, regret, brown eyes tearing up then turning dull as life left them. Voices shouted in his ear, traversing time to remind him of his sins.

Then the pressure lifted from his back, and a pair of hands yanked him up by his underarms, sending him stumbling away. The weight of his backpack had lessened, but he couldn’t tell what had gone missing.

A flurry of footsteps stumbled away, rushing off towards the exit. He turned to see the three men fleeing, and only Rui remained at his side, doubled over. His breaths came out in pained gasps, and one of his arms hung limp at his side while the other clutched his stomach.

In spite of all that, he still managed to look Makoto straight in the eyes and growl, “What the hell is wrong with you?” Anger tightened in his tense jaw, and his mechanical eye turned bright red as he lost control over the color-changing feature. “Now’s not the time to be upholding some stupid oath. We could’ve been killed!”

Makoto opened his mouth to defend himself, but his voice refused to work. The room spinning under his feet made him so ill, he had to throw himself against a pillar to keep from falling back over. Numbness crawled over his skin, and he could barely manage to breathe.

A pair of tiny, child-like hands crept around his throat, tightening, choking him. He raised a leaden hand to try and pry them away, but he couldn’t get a grip on the invisible noose.

Forgetting his anger, Rui rushed over, concern painted across his face. “Hey, hey,” he said softly, holding Makoto tightly by his shoulders. The only warmth in Makoto’s entire body came from Rui’s hands on his arms. “What’s going on? What did they do?” Worry and fear dripped from Rui’s voice. His presence chased the invisible hands away and allowed Makoto to take a shaky breath.

Makoto shook his head. There was no way he could explain, not in this moment, what he’d kept tucked away in the recesses of his mind. Even as the memories retreated, the guilt remained, clinging tighter than his clothes.

A single sound, faint and distant, pulled him away -- a groan from a familiar raspy voice trying to call out. Granny.

Silently he pleaded with Rui to help him, moving into Rui’s hands, trying to peel himself off the pillar. Rui seemed to understand instinctively, sliding his good arm around Makoto’s waist, and pulling him toward the camp.

Makoto’s feet tried to find the ground, but his legs couldn’t hold him up, and he stumbled every step. Despite being the more injured of the two, Rui managed to keep Makoto walking, albeit much slower than Makoto yearned to.

Makoto forced his monocle to zoom as much as it could, making every movement of his head disorienting and dizzying, but it allowed him to see Granny long before he otherwise would have.

His heart dropped into his stomach. Even from his distance, he could see the puddles of blood in the area, some directly beneath Granny, who was lying on her back, looking over in his direction with a pained expression on her face. Again he heard her try to call out, but it came out gargled.

Rui seemed to notice as well and sped up. As soon as Makoto was within speaking distance of Granny, he lurched forward, leaving Rui’s side and stumbling the last few feet to drop to his knees beside the old woman.

Before he could ask her what had happened, she clutched at his arms and wheezed in a breath, whispering, “Help her,” while indicating Sumire with her free hand.

Makoto turned, but his vision failed him. Everything went horribly dark, as though his eyes had decided to block out the trauma before he could experience it. He blinked rapidly to try and clear the haze.

Only when Sumire let out a whimper -- perhaps the most pitiful sound he’d ever heard -- did his body finally respond.

The blankets surrounded her like a moat, but little of the fabric covered her, leaving her exposed to the cold. Her clothes were torn near the ports on her chest and abdomen, neither of which had been closed. She didn’t appear injured otherwise, though blood stains drew patterns on her shirt.

Makoto didn’t have the time to figure out to whom it belonged.

He swung his backpack off his shoulders, dismayed to see that most of the material he’d collected from the hideout and his school had been taken, and pulled out his scope.

Rui dropped beside him as he finished connecting the scope to his monocle. “What can I do?” the boy asked, breathless. At such proximity to him, Makoto heard how rapidly Rui’s heart beat in his chest.

“Help Granny and the others,” Makoto said. There was little Rui could do to help him, and having someone hover nearby would slow him down. “But leave your backpack, if you have any materials I can use in there.”

“Take whatever you need,” Rui said, dropping the pack at Makoto’s side as he stood. His footsteps carried him away quickly.

Makoto felt himself fall through a bottomless hole as the floor disappeared from beneath him. Distantly, he heard his voice curse, but he couldn’t feel his own lips move.

Rui returned like a boomerang, asking, “What’s wrong?” He spoke at the same time as Sumire, who asked, “What’s happening?”

Makoto couldn’t respond. He couldn’t make sense of what he saw, of what it meant. He glanced at Sumire’s face and knew there wasn’t any point in lying to her. She watched him with tired eyes, dazed. A sheen of sweat covered her pallid face, and her mouth was drawn in a tight line.

Rui’s hand on his shoulder startled him. Makoto blurted out, “I don’t know what to do.” For the first time, all his knowledge betrayed him -- he couldn’t make sense of any of it. Try as he might, only the vaguest concepts came to the forefront of his mind -- everything else stayed just out of reach. He’d memorized entire textbooks, but he couldn’t remember a single word.

“Is it the necrosis again?” Rui asked, squatting beside him. Without Sumire speaking in tandem, Makoto heard Rui’s voice clearly. It had grown thick and heavy, same as it had been when he found his former classmate, and Makoto dreaded learning why.

He couldn’t find the words to respond, so all he did was nod.

“So inject her with energy -- you still have some reserves right?” Rui was pulling Makoto’s backpack towards him, holding out the fingerprint scanner connecting to the probes.

“I can’t,” Makoto said. His hands sat uselessly beside him, and he knew he wouldn’t find the strength to lift them, even if he tried. He forced himself to understand enough to explain what had happened, saying, “They took not only the prototype, but her pancreas and liver too. There’s nothing to house and convert the energy into anything her body could use.”

“What about making her a new one? We still have some supplies right?” Rui rifled through the main pocket of Makoto’s backpack, pulling out anything he could use. His bad arm moved slower, but he grit his teeth and continued regardless.

He had started in on his own pack when Makoto said, “There’s no point. It won’t take.” He looked over at Rui with tears welling in his eyes. “The necrosis is too advanced -- her body will reject anything I add. It’s already rejecting her other organs.” The first tear rolled down his cheek, but he barely felt its warmth. “It’s too late, Rui.” 

Makoto hated himself for admitting defeat. Everything he had done was for naught. He had failed; he was letting his sister’s best friend die. After everything Miyuki had sacrificed to save him, he couldn’t do one thing for her.

He forced himself to look down at Sumire, to say anything he could to comfort her, but he saw no sadness in her face. For a moment, he wondered if she’d heard him, if she had any notion of what was happening. Then he saw the determination in her eyes, and he knew she was holding back any emotions for his sake.

“I’m sorry,” he said, reaching out to unscrew the scope from her abdominal port and fix her torn shirt. He wiped little droplets of blood from her cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” was all he could say between sobs.

She reached out a hand towards him, and on her face, Makoto saw the same sad smile Miyuki gave him on that last day. “It’s okay,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. It sounded strained and distant, like each word took great effort to say. “I was living on borrowed time. Barely human…” she trailed off, and Makoto grimaced at her reminder of Shu’s words. He wanted to contradict her, but his tongue turned to lead and his jaw wired itself shut. The words he so desperately needed eluded him.

“Makoto,” Rui said from beside him, placing a gentle yet comforting hand on Makoto’s shoulder. He waited until Makoto was looking at him to lean forward and whisper, “We should carry her outside. It’s been her wish, right? We should fulfill it while we still have the chance.”

“What about the others?” Makoto whispered back. “What do they…” he trailed off as Rui shook his head.

“They’re gone, Makoto,” was all he needed to say to make Makoto understand.

Makoto nodded and wiped away his tears on the back of his hand. If Sumire was keeping a brave face, then he would too. He hoped she didn’t know what had befallen the rest of the camp. Turning back to her, he asked shakily, “Do you think you could hold on to me?” He cleared his throat and tried to calm his voice.

Sumire raised an eyebrow but nodded, looking from him to Rui then back again. Makoto saw her searching for answers, but he gave nothing away. He would hold back his tears for the other camp members until later.

Rui started to move, sliding his hands beneath Sumire’s shoulders and knees. “I can take her,” he said.

“No,” Makoto protested. Panic welled up inside him, rivaling the guilt and sorrow weighing down his every move. “Please,” he continued, softer. “Let me. I have to do this.” It’s the last thing I can do for her. I need to see this through.

“Are you sure?” Rui asked. Makoto knew Rui was worried since he could barely walk over, but he nodded. He trusted his body to give him one last burst of adrenaline when he needed it most.

“Okay,” Rui said. “I’ll be right behind you.” He finished helping Sumire sit, then moved away to let Makoto take over.

With gentle hands, Makoto guided Sumire’s arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist. He accepted Rui’s help to stand, taking a moment to acclimate to the weight on his back and regain his balance.

She’s almost lighter than my backpack, he thought absently, then realized this would be the last time he carried her. He held back a fresh wave of tears. Here was the girl he’d watched grow up, who had spent nearly every day at his house, who had almost become a second sister to him, dying. She was taking shaky, shallow breaths down his neck, and he knew she didn’t have much left in her.

Leaning as far forward as he could without losing his balance, Makoto carried Sumire to the ladder. He didn’t let himself look back at the camp. I don’t have the time to be distracted now.

And yet a distraction was all he wanted. Anything that could take him out of this horrible moment, that could delay the inevitable just a little longer. If Makoto could just help someone, then he would atone for having left the camp.

But there was nothing he could do for Sumire, who needed him the most.

She’s leaving the camp, like she always wanted, but she won’t be coming back… The thought intruded in his mind, sapping the strength from his legs. His body threatened to give out, as though keeping her underground would somehow keep her alive. He pushed the thought away and focused on the warmth of her against his back.

Makoto reached the ladder sooner than he wished. He craned his neck to look up at the top, at the open hatch where the intruders had escaped. There it was, the entrance and the final exit, simultaneously so close yet so far.

“Here,” Rui said, unzipping his jacket and wrapping it around Sumire and Makoto. He tied it tight against Makoto’s chest, saying, “This’ll help keep her from falling while you climb.”

Makoto nodded his thanks, but he didn’t trust himself to speak. Sumire’s arms shook around his neck, and her legs were losing their grip around his waist. She didn’t have long left, and he couldn’t give her any more time now.

Hang on just a little longer…

The icy rungs of the metal ladder chilled his hands even through his thick gloves. He shuddered against the cold, but it only spurred him to move faster.

As he climbed, he pleaded to anything that would listen. Please, let me do this for her. Let me fulfill her dying wish. Don’t let me fail her again. He chanted the words in his head, matching the rhythm with that of his steps. Distantly he heard Rui climbing behind him.

A slight breeze wafted down from above, and Sumire stirred against Makoto’s back. She tightened her grip on him, ever more determined to hang on. “It’s been so long since I’ve been outside,” she murmured beside his ear, burying her face in his shoulder. “Thank you, Makoto.”

He managed to crawl out of the hatch before the first sob escaped his throat. The rest stayed trapped, forcibly swallowed down so he could take care of Sumire.

The Kichijouji station seemed too large, yet the walls tried to close in on him, sucking the cold nighttime air out of his lungs before he could breathe it in. Nestled in the usual smell of ashes and dust was the rancid stench of death. It wrapped frigid hands around his neck, choking him.

Rui crawled out behind him, then rushed over to untie Sumire. Makoto held onto her while Rui undid the knot and let the jacket fall away, then he knelt down and Rui helped Sumire sit up against the nearest wall.

She had only a few layers on her, but she didn’t shiver from the cold. Soft red hair tumbled over her shoulders, finally free of the balaclava she usually wore to preserve the warmth she had once needed. Her pale face almost seemed to glow in the dim wash of light trickling in through the shattered ceiling. On her lips rested a smile, though her eyes revealed the pain she suffered.

Makoto forced himself to look at her, to take in every detail and create a mental snapshot. He needed to face what he had done, to atone for his failure. The consequence of his inaction had to be branded into his mind, so he would carry the weight for the rest of his life, however short that may be.

When Sumire’s eyes met Makoto’s, there was no blame in them. No resentment. She looked content, for the first time since the revolt. Slumped against the wall, Sumire seemed like she was just resting, not like it was her last moment.

“Thank you, Makoto,” she said. She no longer looked like the thirteen year old girl who had been laughing with his sister a few months ago. In such a short time, she had aged beyond her years. “Thank you for taking me outside.”

Despite his best efforts, Makoto couldn’t stop himself from saying, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He couldn’t find the words to express everything he needed to apologize for, and there was little the words could do even if he did find them, but he tried anyway. His mouth opened and closed, but all that came out was one apology after another, tumbling over each other.

She shook her head gently, the movement sluggish and slow. “It’s thanks to you that I lived this long. I owe these last few months to you, so don’t be sad. I’m not,” she said, but her eyes didn’t match her words. “I only regret not meeting Miyuki, on that last day in the Before. If only I’d known that history project would never be due, I wouldn’t have stayed home to finish it.” A single tear rolled down her cheek as she asked, “Can you tell Miyuki that, when you see her? And tell her I’ll be waiting for her, wherever I go?”

Makoto nodded, but he couldn’t say anything more. With a shaking hand, he took hers and held on tight, as though holding onto her could keep her from slipping away. Her fingers felt so cold and small against his palm, and try as he might, he couldn’t warm her up.

Sumire tilted her head back, resting it against the wall, and said, “It’s beautiful, that star up there.” Makoto followed her gaze but he saw nothing more than the usual haze. He turned back to her in time to hear her say, “I’m glad I could see it,” before she closed her eyes, took one last breath…

And slipped away…

Into the cold summer night.