The Answer

Smoke rose in puffs, clouds of pollution from the highway cutting into the Japanese skyline. I could taste the familiar burning throughout my lungs. Once I’d started smoking, that sensation was impossible to forget. Yet, those days were over.

Something Grace clearly couldn’t understand.

She stood among a beautiful circle of rain–droplets sliding down the concrete bridge shielding us both from the constant poring in the Himeji sky.

Her bright pink skirt popped against the dreary underpass. The thing was magnetic, the splash of color almost irresistible to my eyes. A wolf in sheep's clothing. Yet I resisted, my eyes meeting hers; blue orbs of innocent curiosity and excitement.

“You’re here!” Grace waved me over. The glint in her eyes, once full of innocence, not felt akin to insanity.

“Sorry I’m late, the weather held me back.”

“No problem!” her excitement was practically exploding out with every word spoken. “So, now that you’ve had a chance to hear the truth, what kind of questions did you have? I may be able to help.”

Subtle much? “Just, I can wrap myself around the whole predestination stuff, but I can’t tell why he doesn’t go on.”

“That’s exactly what I thought, and me and a few friends came to the same conclusion?”

“That is?”

“If someone’s predetermined to have a spot in heaven, why have them suffer on Earth? This place sucks.”

“Ok…” Shit, I had to choose my words carefully. Any possibility of her not being involved was now long gone. “But, how do you know whose predetermined? There are good people who get exposed for some heinous acts all the time.”

“We can’t,” She shrugged. “We just have to scout people, and make the best guesses we can before convincing them of the truth.”

“Wow…” I couldn’t speak. All this philosophical yapping for the thinnest excuse to convince someone to kill themselves I’d ever seen.

“Besides, if we are wrong, does it matter?”

“What do you mean does it matter?”

Grace grew a wide grin. “If you ask me at least, just sending one person to a better place is worth the suffering of a few people going to a place they’d always been destined to end up. Heaven is reality. This world is just a dream, a nightmare where the chosen few have to see what they could have been.”

“Am I one of your chosen few then? Is that why you all have been harassing me nonstop”

“So you figured it out then,” Grace sighed. “You’re correct, I’m part of them. You came on our radar five years ago as someone to watch. And well, your progress has been incredible to witness. People don't change. That’s been true over and over again, yet somehow you did. Where everyone else failed you proved yourself as someone chosen; someone predestined for something better.”

“Why… You were my friend, why throw yourself into this cult and ruin your life.”

“Is it a cult if it's true?”

“You don’t even know if it's true. You make guesses based on an arbitrary criteria you created. Do you not see the problem with that?”

“Problem? Nope.”

What the hell had I gotten myself into? Every one of Grace’s words was more than enough to lock her up for life, yet my brain couldn’t get past how… normal she acted. Any onlooker would think we were two schoolgirls hiding from the rain. Nothing more sinister than that.

I glanced back, tips of a dozen or so cultist robes sticking out from the nearby alleyways. Chiyo don't let me down.

Grace continued on. “Though… Mari, I thought you would be more interested in this kind of stuff. Were your words over the phone truly to just bait me out here?”

“No! Well yeah, but it's more than that Grace. I want to know why. Why me, why go this far? Why do you hate this world so much?”

“Hate?” She shook her head, seemingly horrified at the thought. “I don’t hate the world. But you can’t deny the terrible things that happen here, just look at the news on a random afternoon. Isn’t it cruel to keep the chosen few here just to suffer a terrible fate due to those cast aside? We can give them a way out.”

“You’re just repeating the same points over and over again!”

“Because they’re right.”

“No! No, they’re not. Life sucks sometimes sure, but it also can bring some beautiful things. Wasn’t our friendship one of those things Grace? I’ve done shitty things before, there's still room for redemption.”

“I see we're not going to come to an agreement Mari. I’m sorry for this.” I winced. Grace slowly raised her finger above her head and gave a single snap. “If you can’t see the truth, then it’s our duty to save you from yourself.

“You moron…” My words barely escaped my lips–muffled by the sounds of endless footsteps.

From every crevice surrounding us, cultists appeared left and right. Their hands held sharp chunks of steel that glimmered in the rain, cloaks covering their faces, and an aura of malice that chilled me to the bone.

Within seconds, the entire bride was completely surrounded.

From the crowd, a familiar streak of red dashed through the sea of gray fabric, breaking through the line. My legs tightened as the red cultist bowed at Grace’s feet. “My lady, I brought what you requested.”

“Thank you.” Grace tossed me a simple box–one I’d seen a few times at this point. My fingers grasped the cold handle. A stinging feeling–one of death and decay–emanated through my arm as I pulled the dagger free from its sheath. The ruby embedded in its hilt seemed to call me. Every bit of the metal desired to pierce flesh.

But it wouldn’t get its way today.

“This life is a gift Grace, and not one I have any desire to throw away. You’re years late for this.” With a fierce throw, I tossed the dagger on the ground–shattering the crystal with a single kick.

“NO! Grace reached out, much too late to stop me as I pounded the dagger to pieces with all the force an angry high school girl could. “What the fuck have you done?”

“Gave you my answer. Now leave me the fuck alone and never enter my sight again.”

“No you don't! Everyone, charge, and send Mari to heaven.”

A mass of bodies threw themselves towards me as I held firm. Pebbles shook against the earth, my feet were barely able to keep a grip. I’d been a fucking rash moron, yet I stalled. “Chiyo, if you have a plan no–”

“This is the police! Freeze and drop your weapons!” From the same allies the cultists had been hiding in, police officers came out in droves–guns in hand. “We disarmed your bombs, your plan has been foiled. Come in peace or we will use force.”

In the confusion, I pushed past the cultists as a familiar face peeked through the officers. “Thank you, Chiyo,” I muttered, wrapping her in a giant hug.