[The wind from Niraikanai]
Brighter. Yara was certain. It was definitely brighter. Kazuya turned away from the glow on the horizon and back toward them, lowering the adapted ocular device they'd been using to measure the explosion's intensity. "Yeah," he said as he nodded, speaking for Koki's benefit. "It's as we thought." Yara could see his own weary dread mirrored in Kazuya's eyes. Kazuya stepped closer and spoke again: "How much longer does that give us?"
"Let me check." Yara frowned, moving off the upper deck and down onto the bridge. The desk on which they had spread papers to plan their course now held a sprawl of sheets charting the number of days - hours - they had remaining. "Okay. What was the reading?"
"One-seven-three," said Kazuya, helping Koki down the ladder as he spoke. Koki moved too sharply and Kazuya's hand moved out automatically, using his own body as a buffer between Koki's head and the hard, cold metal of the pipes running along the wall. "Careful, Champ."
"Don't call me that," Koki said, more a whine out of habit than a genuine complaint. He nudged Kazuya's ribs with his elbow in silent thanks. "C'mon then. How long until the end of the world?"
If he sounded blasé, neither Yara nor Kazuya minded.
"Uh, sometime in the next seven hours, I guess," Yara said, following the line of the graph with his index finger. "Oh. We might be in luck, you know. That'll be night-time here. 1am."
"So we'll be on the other side of the planet when it hits, right?" Kazuya's brow crinkled as his eyebrows lifted in realisation. "It might buy us a little more time, maybe…"
"Yeah but is it worth it, though?" Koki asked, fingers tracing idly over the glass cover of a dial he could not read. "This isn't exactly just some storm we can weather out, guys. Even if, even if by some miracle we make it out the other side in one piece… Nothing will be the same. Nothing. It'll all be beyond recognition."
"Well…" Kazuya paused, meeting Yara's gaze across the desk. They'd had this conversation before; their response would still be the same. "I guess it's human nature to fight for survival, isn't it. Even if it's tiny, there's still a chance that we could find your brother again, Koki, isn't there?"
Silence met his words.
"So," Kazuya continued, "like we promised, we won't give up. Right until the very end."
Another pause. Then, "…Thanks." Koki's voice was gruff and he lowered his gaze as his clouded eyes glistened with unwanted tears. "…I'm glad it's the two of you who are here with me."
"Of course it was going to be us." Yara gripped Koki's forearm and clapped Kazuya on the shoulder before heading back up the ladder onto the roof of the submarine, through the layers of cooling blocks and reinforcements that they hoped would help to shield them from the impact. The submarine had been his idea, figuring that the water would protect them better than the air, even if it would still most likely evaporate anyway. It was sheer optimism that drove them forward, a desperate prayer that the Earth would still be around after the burning light enveloped them and moved on. Yara didn't know if they were brave, or stupid. Knowing his two childhood friends as he did, Yara suspected it was more likely the latter.
Up on deck, Yara wrapped his hands around the grey metal railings, looking away from the blinding brightness but instead toward the islands just on the horizon, stretching far into the distance. He knew them to be part of the Ryukyu arc, and his heart swelled a little in his chest. A warm gust of wind hit him, knocking the air from his throat for a split second before rushing west, to where the islands were waiting for him. The light on the water was blinding and the sea and sky were both a dazzling gold, but Yara resisted the urge to look away. Narrowing his eyes against the glare, he breathed in the warm wind and printed the image firmly in his mind, savouring every tiny detail. Even if nothing was going to be the same, he was determined to at least hold on to one final memory of home.
"Let me check." Yara frowned, moving off the upper deck and down onto the bridge. The desk on which they had spread papers to plan their course now held a sprawl of sheets charting the number of days - hours - they had remaining. "Okay. What was the reading?"
"One-seven-three," said Kazuya, helping Koki down the ladder as he spoke. Koki moved too sharply and Kazuya's hand moved out automatically, using his own body as a buffer between Koki's head and the hard, cold metal of the pipes running along the wall. "Careful, Champ."
"Don't call me that," Koki said, more a whine out of habit than a genuine complaint. He nudged Kazuya's ribs with his elbow in silent thanks. "C'mon then. How long until the end of the world?"
If he sounded blasé, neither Yara nor Kazuya minded.
"Uh, sometime in the next seven hours, I guess," Yara said, following the line of the graph with his index finger. "Oh. We might be in luck, you know. That'll be night-time here. 1am."
"So we'll be on the other side of the planet when it hits, right?" Kazuya's brow crinkled as his eyebrows lifted in realisation. "It might buy us a little more time, maybe…"
"Yeah but is it worth it, though?" Koki asked, fingers tracing idly over the glass cover of a dial he could not read. "This isn't exactly just some storm we can weather out, guys. Even if, even if by some miracle we make it out the other side in one piece… Nothing will be the same. Nothing. It'll all be beyond recognition."
"Well…" Kazuya paused, meeting Yara's gaze across the desk. They'd had this conversation before; their response would still be the same. "I guess it's human nature to fight for survival, isn't it. Even if it's tiny, there's still a chance that we could find your brother again, Koki, isn't there?"
Silence met his words.
"So," Kazuya continued, "like we promised, we won't give up. Right until the very end."
Another pause. Then, "…Thanks." Koki's voice was gruff and he lowered his gaze as his clouded eyes glistened with unwanted tears. "…I'm glad it's the two of you who are here with me."
"Of course it was going to be us." Yara gripped Koki's forearm and clapped Kazuya on the shoulder before heading back up the ladder onto the roof of the submarine, through the layers of cooling blocks and reinforcements that they hoped would help to shield them from the impact. The submarine had been his idea, figuring that the water would protect them better than the air, even if it would still most likely evaporate anyway. It was sheer optimism that drove them forward, a desperate prayer that the Earth would still be around after the burning light enveloped them and moved on. Yara didn't know if they were brave, or stupid. Knowing his two childhood friends as he did, Yara suspected it was more likely the latter.
Up on deck, Yara wrapped his hands around the grey metal railings, looking away from the blinding brightness but instead toward the islands just on the horizon, stretching far into the distance. He knew them to be part of the Ryukyu arc, and his heart swelled a little in his chest. A warm gust of wind hit him, knocking the air from his throat for a split second before rushing west, to where the islands were waiting for him. The light on the water was blinding and the sea and sky were both a dazzling gold, but Yara resisted the urge to look away. Narrowing his eyes against the glare, he breathed in the warm wind and printed the image firmly in his mind, savouring every tiny detail. Even if nothing was going to be the same, he was determined to at least hold on to one final memory of home.