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Thursday: 23:13
Tomorrow morning will be the end. While the de facto leader Kuze had not yet formally proclaimed his decision to the group, Yamato Hotsuin knew it to be the truth. Tomorrow morning, all twelve children of potential, along with Al Saiduq the Septentrione and Cor Caroli the Triangulum, will sacrifice their lives and chances at rebirth. All for the future of mankind. Yamato sighed, fiddling idly with a pen as he sat at Miyako’s desk, no, at his desk.
While he planned on trying to convince Kuze otherwise, he knew his efforts would be futile. The boy was far too easily swayed by notions of heroics and cared too much about the world. Or perhaps he was simply tired. Perhaps he was as tired of trying to save everyone time and time again as Yamato himself was. Though neither would ever willingly admit to such a thing.
Yamato’s aimless train of thought was cut short by the soft sound of keys reverberating through the halls in an ascending then descending pattern. The young man scoffed; he knew the sound all too well. His mother’s old grand piano had apparently found some use other than for merely gathering dust in storage. Sparse memories of his mother involuntarily came to his mind. Yamato then mused of the implications of himself and Miyako being born from the same womb after all and stood up from his desk. His feeble muscles trembled again, and he cursed under his breath. If sleep or rest of any capacity continued to evade him, Yamato determined it would be more productive to at least satisfy the curiosity of discovering whom would dare access this floor’s, his floor’s, storage room.
The sound grew as he made his way down the hall. Yamato identified it as a famous melancholic classical piece despite the mysterious player’s seeming lack of skill. Clair de Lune by Claude Debussy; a clichéd choice. The young man contemplated knocking before barging in for a moment before once again realising that he was in his own domain. As expected, the door was unlocked, and he simply pushed it open in a fluid motion.
“Ah!” Exclaimed a deep feminine voice followed by the wooden clunk of fallboard closing abruptly.
Yamato blinked, “Makoto..?”
“Ch-chief, I mean Yamato, I’m sorry I-“ Makoto automatically bowed in apology.
“Makoto, I beg of you, spare me the unneeded formality. Or have you already forgotten our conversation on the balcony?” Yamato smiled softly in an attempt to soothe her nerves.
“R-right.” The woman exhaled and turned around to face the piano. “You are the third person to walk in on me you know.”
Yamato invited himself to sit on the bench next to her. “Based on my experiences dealing with both women; I would presume the socially curious Yanagiya found you first, followed by the scientifically curious Kanno.”
“On the nose.”
Yamato noticed Makoto’s faint smile at the remark. His gaze wandered from the profile of her lips to her jaw to her dark eyes.
He realised he had been marveling at the soldier’s beauty for a moment too long, “Hm. I’ve never heard you play. Is this one of this timeline’s many differences from those I was included?”
Makoto either did not notice or did not mind, “No… Not really. I mean I knew how to play then too it’s just… I finally had the drive to continue this time around. Even if it’s just messing around.”
“I assume Miyako gave you the key card?”
“Yeah, she did. Never did tell me why there's such a beautiful grand piano just sitting here at JP’s though, and I never asked.”
“It was my mother’s. Or rather our mother’s.” Yamato added bluntly.
Makoto blinked and put her hands on her lap, “Oh…”
Yamato raised an eyebrow, “Does that bother you? The woman is long dead.”
“It’s just… This belonged to the former chief. I think it deserves a bit more care and respect than what I’ve been giving it.”
“The fact that anyone is making use out of this piece of trash is enough to warrant it not to be thrown away.” Yamato leaned in and gently raised the fallboard. “Go on. Play.”
“Uh, what should I play?”
“Whatever you choose to.”
“Um… Okay… hold on.”
“Yes?”
“Tell me about her, the former chief.”
“There isn’t much to tell. Why do you want to know?”
“Just curious is all.”
Yamato sighed and leaned even closer to Makoto. With his right hand he clumsily played a few keys without much care for technique.
“Tall woman. The vixen and I inherited her hair and eyes.”
A few more notes sounded, and Makoto realised he was recounting a melody from a distant memory.
“Gifted at swordplay. Exceptional at magic. Adept in the art of demon summoning. She was the quintessential chief of JP’s.” Yamato stopped playing for a moment. “I do not remember all that much about her as a person, but I do remember greatly admiring her ability and intellect. On the contrary, I recall her strict teachings in excruciating detail.” He continued on with the song, “Including the piano, which I am not particularly fond of.”
Makoto, who had been paying attention to the tempo and cadence, hovered her hands over the keys. “What’s this called?”
“Solveig’s Song by Edvard Grieg. Norwegian.”
“I think I get it now. How about I play it for you? If that’s okay? I figured we could use a little music. To calm the nerves…” Makoto had been avoiding the elephant in the room until then. Her cold soldier facade was beginning to crack ever so slightly. “I um, I hope your mom enjoys it too.”
“I do not see the point in playing for the dead, but by all means.”
Despite his characteristically callous words, Makoto’s refocused on the keys in front of her. The woman took a deep breath, placed her foot on one of the pedals, and lightly ran her fingertips over the keys. Without another moment’s hesitation, she began to play the song Yamato had been playing prior but with significant flow and grace.
“Ah, so what I heard in the hallway was nothing more than you checking to see if this relic was in tune.”
Makoto was flushed from her nerves in combination with his strangely worded compliment. There was something exhilarating about sharing a talent with one close to you, regardless of grim circumstances. Just minutes before he walked in, she was on the verge of tears. Now here she was, playing a song for one of the people she loved most.
In an act of equivalent exchange and out of affection, Yamato decided to share a secret talent with her as well. It was their last day after all.
“Kanske vil der gå både Vinter og Vår
Og naeste Sommer med, op det hele År
Men engang vil du komme, det ved jeg visst
Her skal jeg nok vente, for det lovte jeg sidst”
Makoto could not believe her ears. The gentleness of his voice and her surprise caused her to falter and miss a note or two. She continued on, half paying attention to her own playing and half to Yamato’s song.
A wave of confusing and unwelcome emotion overcame Yamato. His muscles trembled once again but he steeled himself to continue for Makoto’s sake, and in hope that she did not notice.
“Gud styrke dig, hvor du i Verden går
Gud glæde dig, hvis du for hans Fodskammel står
Her skal jeg vente til du kommer igen
og venter du histoppe, vi traeffes der, min Ven”
While he had managed to finish the song, before he could attempt to suppress his emotions any longer, Yamato felt a single tear stream down his cheek.
Makoto froze in response. While she had finally seen a vulnerable side of the once chief of JP’s not too long ago, she had never seen him cry. Her arms wrapped around his torso, hugging him tightly and pulling him in against herself. Yamato rested his head on her shoulder.
The two remained silent for several minutes, unable to conjure up any kind of reassurance as they both knew there was none to be found.
“Everything I’ve done… Everything we’ve done…” Yamato murmured defeatedly, “All for what? Nothing.”
“It may seem that way but…” Makoto faltered, “It’s not the end.”
Makoto pulled herself away to look at Yamato in the eyes, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other on delicately on his cheek. “I know it’s not. I trust in Chief Miyako.”
Yamato grit his teeth, “Despite the fact that that vixen lied to you for years and never once told you that she planned to end your life?”
“She did what she had to!” Makoto interjected. She knew he was upset, and he had the full right to be, but she argued, nonetheless, defending the chief of this timeline as she had sworn to do. “I may not know her that well, but I still know her better than anyone else.”
“’It’s for the greater good.’” Yamato quoted, “’The path to save mankind.’ How delusional.”
“I know it’s extreme. And… I know how hard you worked to avoid this but…” Makoto swallowed, “It’s the only way.”
Yamato scoffed, “There is always another way.”
“Perhaps… But it’s what’s Kuze decided, and the others are sure to agree with him and Chief Miyako.”
“So you’ve realised it too.”
Yamato raised his hand and took Makoto’s from his cheek, lowering them and intertwining his fingers with hers. “Do you remember the fires of Arcturus?”
“H-how could I not?”
“We were fortuitous then. It may have been a massacre, a horrific, brutal massacre, but we had a second chance. Another chance to make things right. Miyako’s plan may work but there is no guarantee it will. I am sure you understand what that entails.”
“There will be no more chances, I know.” Makoto answered, "This decision has to work. It must.”
The two fell silent once again. It was so quiet that they felt as if they could hear their own quickened heartbeats.
“I… I want to save the world. I want humanity to survive. I wanted us to survive. All of us.” Yamato took Makoto's hand tightly in his grasp and sighed. “Just when I… Finally found the will inside of me to live.” The young man began to quake, his grip tightening on the woman’s hand as if his fate depended on not letting it go.
Makoto said nothing. She pulled him in for another embrace, her free hand lightly brushing through his long hair to bring his head to a cradle against her chest. She too knew this pain all too well. “You know… I too used to have such little regard for my life that I vowed to die for you at any given moment.”
Yamato refrained from calling her a fool for the mere thought and listened.
“I’ve wanted to die since that car hit me and ended my dream. In fact, I wished it had killed me then. Right on the spot.” Makoto herself was beginning to break under the combined stress of their future demise and the trauma of the past. “But I learned to keep living! I learned to love being alive!”
Her voice died down from the sudden outburst and the room fell silent.
Yamato spoke up, “Makoto, have I ever told you that I’ve never much as left this country? I yearn to broaden my horizons, gain knowledge, gain experience…” He pondered for a moment, hyperaware of their intimacy during the conversation, then continued, “I wished to spend the rest of my life learning, seeking, protecting… With you at my side.”
Tears began to gather in the corners of Makoto’s eyes, “I never intended to leave your side. I will be right there with you. Always.”
“I am in love with you, Makoto Sako. Know that you are the most precious to me.” Yamato murmured.
His words broke down her last wall of defense and the battle-hardened soldier began to sob as loudly as a lost child.
Friday: 6:43
“I appreciate you coming. All of you. Let me remind you that your sacrifice will save the world…”
Yamato half-listened as Miyako’s empty praise sounded through the expansive research facility. His eyes explored the room, from the futuristic tanks which held the grotesque Triangulum prisoner, back to his so-called sister. Kuze, who was standing on his left side, must have noticed his unease since he flashed him a quick grin. Yamato did not know what to make of it but appreciated the gesture, nonetheless. Makoto, on his right, held her full undivided attention on Miyako.
When the speech had concluded, one by one the children of potential made their way to Miyako’s strange machine. A contraption created to simultaneously contain and destroy.
Each individual said their piece, their final words, then entered the machine. Yamato forced himself not to wince each time the machine crushed their bodies as easily as insects beneath a human foot. Makoto too felt weak at the sights and sounds but she held her composure, her features as stonelike as a true warrior. However, as her turn approached, Yamato suddenly noticed her hand take his. She squeezed it as reassurance to both him and to herself.
“This is the right choice.” She whispered under her breath for Yamato alone to hear “It has to be.”
Letting go, Makoto took a long last look at Yamato, as if to burn his image in her mind. She then unflinchingly made her way up the stairs, joining her two closest comrades Kanno and Yanagiya. Makoto gave a respectful bow to the chief of the current timeline before continuing on to her assigned pod.
Yamato bit his lip at the sight.
“If all it takes to save the world is our sacrifice then… this is the right choice.” Makoto 's deep voice intoned with conviction and pride. The door of her pod opened, and the woman took one step inside the chamber before hesitation brought her to a halt. Yamato noticed she seemed to be silently mouthing words, three, perhaps four syllables at most, before she entered the infernal device which would end her existence entirely. With another horrifying metallic crushing noise, any trace of Makoto Sako had been wiped clean from the slate of the universe.
Yamato tasted blood.
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“…Hey.”
“Yes?”
“The song you sang as I played… What’s it about?”
“An individual promising to wait forever so that one day they will be reunited with their dear friend.”
“Ah… I see.”
“Hm?”
“It’s nothing.”