Work Text:
Mornings had been silent for the past 3 months.
An anomaly at most, as the town Kisaki had grown up in is notorious for its boisterous scene. Fishermen would be the one to greet the winking sun, in tow their kids would wake up and greet the vibrancy of freshly sprouted grass and the buzzing insects, all while the sun is in view you could never have a silent time once you’ve stepped foot in the city's space.
Kisaki had known that he took this for granted as the silence that falls before him deafens him more than the town ever could.
All his ears could make out were the rough patches of leather shoes against concrete streets. The wind was also piercing his ears, and the cold was unforgiving‐ biting and feverish.
He tugged his jacket closer, not once since the first meteor had hit the west side of the globe had the temperature heightened to what would’ve been normal, the damage and debris of the fall had been so obscure that at its first month, the west fell to great famine and pollution, communication had fallen deeply, and by the time help from the east had arrived, it was late- too late, there was no humanity for them to salvage anymore.
What had been brought back instead was another wave of devastating news, they’ve got their hands on research and gave the remaining population a heads up to another asteroid in tow, turns out the government had been willing to keep the information with them to their death, resulting in what had cause the fall of the west.
It had only been three months since, and nothing had been the same.
Countless news of suicide heightened to a great extent that if one were to make an estimation, it would’ve chipped a quarter from the percentage of the remaining people.
Kisaki couldn’t bring himself to blame them. The thought had crossed his mind multiple times since the news reached him; he had nothing to lose; it would’ve been a more merciful death than what would be of his state once the asteroid makes contact; he had nothing else to live for, be it his family‐ who he had mixed feelings for, he envies them greatly, they’ve passed and was no longer to see what the world had been reduced too, but there was relief somewhere in there, Kisaki was glad they weren’t here to suffer any longer.
Just like everyone who had been left, they were already but shells of what they used to be, that at this waiting period, they’ve died along with the countless people that have already gone ahead.
Kisaki had told himself that he would inhibit this for longer, if he really could.
Then he met Hanma once again.
He stumbled across the man–quite literally as he had caught him in a tangle against two other boys fighting tooth and nail for stale bread–he picked himself off of the ground, triumphant in his siege for the grain when he heard him call.
“Not even the apocalypse could stop your homicidal tendencies?” Hanma was barely hiding his amusement, and Kisaki had been caught off guard by the appearance of the other- and the inkling sound of laughter.
It had been so long since kisaki heard the sound.
And it did not surprise him that Hanma had given him the reminder that laughter did exist sometime in the history of the earth. Who else could laugh so carelessly at the end of the world?
But looking at him thoroughly, Hanma had been but bones and skin, his clothes were beaten and tattered, and his jeans were fading.
Kisaki didn’t know what to say, didn’t even know if he still had a voice as he hadn’t used it in such a long time. Hanma had been the first person to approach him after all this began, and he felt relieved.
It was easy to feel like you’re the last man on earth when its ending.
Kisaki had felt like time and space had been dripping from his fingers, continuously forgetting that he had once had a life that wasn’t revolving around it ending in the worse way possible. Rather, he dreams of it.
He dreams of his childhood, his mother, he dreams of motorcycles and the buzzing night life of his hometown; he dreams of the people he used to be surrounded with, be it the canteen lady at his school, the convenience store guard that lets him toy around his bike, and he dreams of Hanma, the only person he’d kept around for quite some time.
If it was to be Kisakis choice, he wouldn’t dare let go of the other, in the span of his middle school years whilst Hanma had been his side was his prime, the only time he ever felt known, but time has a cruel grasp on humans who lives well enough to forget about it, came the time Hanma said goodbye to move, Kisaki had accepted it for his and for the others’ sake.
So to think of Hanma when the first whisper of impending doom came around- Kisaki couldn’t help himself.
“Let me guess, surprised to still see me alive? So am i.”
Hanma stepped forward, the rather heavy looking bag slung to his shoulders jiggle and clashed, “What are the odds to meet you here, huh?”
“I live around the corner, of course you’d find me here.”
“Touché”
Hanma leaped across the two boys still clutching their sides from the pain Kisaki caused and captivated him in a luminescent smile, Kisaki doesn’t know if it’s the fact that he’d gone on for what felt like ages before seeing another human being‐ let alone smile, or is it just because its Hanma, that caught him smitten.
“What has the apocalypse done to the great Kisaki Tetta then?” Hanma jostled him with a slight jab of his shoulder, “I see you- haven’t grown.”
“It may have been a long time but I can still shoot a bullet through your fucking face.”
“See- there you are, that’s my kisaki!”
“Shut the fuck up- what even brings you here?”
Hanma had stopped in his tracks as he rocked back and forth from his heels, “Hm- about that,” he trails off, suddenly being shy as he avoids looking at the other.
“We lost our home- well, I got lost- I haven’t seen my family in a while,” Hanma said bringing a hand up to the back of his neck, “Been living off of the rocks, it’s not good but its- it’s enough.”
That would explain the raggedy bag and his entire physic. Hanma had been living on the streets, during an apocalypse, where closing your eyes can heighten the chances of you not being able to open them again.
“Kinda relief for me to see you well.”
Hanma finally looked up, shrugging his shoulders as he does, “Care to- uh, take in one more?”
“It’s fine,” Kisaki hears himself speak, not even thinking about it.
Hanma beamed at him, slinging an arm on his shoulders, “I owe you my life Kisaki, but you won’t regret taking me in, I’m great company.”
“Yeah you are,” Kisaki tried to come out as sarcastic, but it genuinely spilled from his lips, it takes him back to the days where they would take up his uncle’s beat up bike and just drive around town, they would leave it by the bridge and walk their way around back to it, talking about sweet nothings all the way.
Now Kisaki comes back to reality as he trips on a pebble, he grips his jacket tighter; the cold had been a nuisance, but it was beginning to be unbearable.
“Got colder these days, huh?”
He hears Hanma beside him, who also zipped up the couple jackets he has stacked on, “Weathers been a bitch.”
Kisaki hummed in agreement, they were out to get food, but they’ve been unlucky for the past couple of hours, paired with the unbearable temperature and the disease the smoke carries around them, they couldn’t be out for too long or they’d be another body on the street by the end of the night.
“Call it a day? We still have those packets from last week.” Hanma grabbed his arm as he walked further away from him.
“It wouldn’t last us long anymore,” Kisaki grumbles but turns around, the fog thickens in this part of the city, and Kisaki may have his fair share of mischief but he wasn’t stupid, “Starve for all I care but I’m not going to.”
“C’mon there may be some places we missed on the way back.”
—
As the pair reached the intersection leading up to their apartment, Hanma spots a bag laying haphazardly by the curb. The pair jogs up to it to find nothing but a pair of batteries and a battered wire.
“Tasty,” Hanma notes as he pockets the batteries, Kisaki groans.
“Let’s just head back this is pointless,” Kisaki begins walking as Hanma continuously inspects the bag.
“Oh, don’t be like that, we got lucky on the packets last week anyway, that would last us until- next week.”
“Lucky enough to have food stored when there’s no one left there to eat?”
The day the officials came back with the news, it came with the estimated time, 3 months was a vague way of putting it, and what Hanma had referred to as next week would be the mark of the third month that they’d been living like this.
At most, it was already a stretch, it’s too much time, and Kisaki feels the anxiety bubbling every day as he wakes up unscathed. The anticipation was killing him.
Hanma walks up to him with a smile, he always does so when the conversation turns grim, Kisaki knew that if he hadn’t encountered Hanma that day- he would’ve been long gone, and even through the ticking time bomb of death just inches away from them, Kisaki ought to see the beauty of company, even through the ends of the world.
“Let’s go home then.”
Home, that had been the better word.
—
It became unbearable after that day.
Another news came on, right on time as Hanma had put the batteries to use on the radio, “To whom left listening, further research has come to the conclusion that it would be ill-fated to remain outdoors, seek shelter and stay there, ration would continue its rotation after further notice, to all who is well, goodnight Japan.”
It poured, raindrops so heavy he can feel it pelt even through the roof, it was deafening, and at best they kept busy trying to find stray pails and tin cans to stave the leaking ceiling, from his view outside he could see water levels start rising, and still the sun shined, no amount of knowledge Kisaki could gather can explain such storms on a sunny day, it almost felt theatrical, fiction.
Earthquakes had also become ‘normal’ the earth would stutter at the most unexpected time, as if to mock the remaining people of their thinning lifespan.
But Kisaki knew they were more than privileged enough to still have a roof over their heads. The apartment he was staying in for college had long gone overdue, but who collects rent at the end of the world?
Their electricity had long been gone, and the little water they have was stored in a bin, the bathtub, and a cooler, it was a great deal to get by, but he still had his clothes, some food, a bed to sleep in, he was more than lucky enough.
“Seems nature can be an eyesore too,” Kisaki can feel Hanma press up against his side as he leans to also grasp a view of the outside. “You’re not cold?”
Kisaki feels a blanket go over his shoulders. He mumbles out his thanks.
“You should come eat.”
Kisaki can feel Hanma pull him away from the window and lead him to sit down on the couch. He had been looking at it too much lately, and as terrified as he was, he couldn’t bear to not know what was happening.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Sure you are.”
Hanma placed a steaming bowl of noodles in front of him and his stomach growls, but Kisaki knew he couldn’t stomach even a few bites.
“At least drink some soup to warm yourself up.” Kisaki looked up to see Hanma staring at him with concern. He had been throwing him that look since they’ve been quarantined inside, and Kisaki hates it.
“Eat up darling, I’ll just go get something.” Hanma walks up to him and runs a hand through his hair. He leaned into the touch.
Kisaki didn’t know how the touch of domesticity came before them, it started as a surprise, even through all his hope, Kisaki wasn’t expecting to see Hanma from an impulsive and desperate run to the supermarket one day, more so taking him in, but it worked.
Hanma had always been great company, he recalls the day of them as children, and just how much hasn’t changed.
Hanma had worked his way into Kisaki’s life as if he never left, their routine had been clumsy, but through mere weeks, you couldn’t hold the years apart against them, Kisaki holds in a silly part of his mind that he hadn’t found Hanma by chance.
They fell back into place immediately, catching up on events that had happened with one another, Kisaki came to learn that Hanma had flew to study abroad, but came back two years later to take care of his grandmother, he had stumbled upon this city as he fled the province, having to scrap for two months on foot to get by.
Despite how Hanma made his shortened life easier, it made the wait for doomsday that more excruciating.
Hanma had his way of making Kisaki forget that they were to die at any point, and now that Hanma is by his reach, he couldn’t bear loosing him again.
“What’s got your darling little head up in the clouds?”
Hanma enters the room and leans over the couch directly above Kisakis face, “I got you something.”
As Kisaki turns around, he sees Hanma raise two gentlemen tuxedos; he recognizes this as his own, the one he had to wear on the day of his sister’s wedding, and the other one, his fathers.
“Where the fuck did you even get that?” Kisaki begins, though he feels a small smile form on his lips.
“Your apartment is smaller than you think.”
“And why pull it out now?”
“Just trust me on this one,” Hanma waves a hand as he places the one for Kisaki on the couch. He examines the tux with the touch of his fingers. “It’s of quality too.”
“Studied a lot about clothes abroad? Or is this to remind me of your wonderful tastes in fashion?”
“Mind you, I was sixteen for fucks sake let it go.” Hanma rubbed his face in frustration, embarrassed by the image of his youth popping up.
“What’s the occasion Hanma?”
“Today marks the 3rd week of us reuniting,” Hanma walked up to a calendar and tapped the number twice, “don’t you see how wonderful that is? Our 3rd week- during the apocalypse!”
“And is this something we should be getting dressed up for?” Kisaki feels his tone stumble into pessimism.
“Can’t I find a reason to dance with you?” Hanma turns around and soon enough the room shakes. The quakes have been getting too frequent lately.
Kisaki gripped the couch for dear life. This never had been easy for him, and never will be.
The quakes subside, and as Kisaki opens his mouth to reply, the radio blares static, “This has been Balgow news signing out, to be of service to our people is priority, and to our country, we have served well, goodnight Japan.” The soft jingle of the station chimed in piercing volume in the small apartment.
It felt like a slap in the face.
“What’s a dance without music anyway?” Kisaki begins, his voice trembling.
“We’ll find a way,” Hanma caresses his arm, gently putting pressure, to remind him that they were still here, “C’mon darling we have a show to begin.”
Kisaki holds on to his words, ‘We’ll find a way.’
Yes, they always had.
—
Hanma moved to the dresser to comb his hair as Kisaki went to put the tux on. Emerging from the bathroom, a light tremor shook the ground they stood on, and it made Kisaki stumble until a firm hand grasped his waist to prevent his fall.
“Thought I could save this for later but,” Hanma trails off as he looks at the other, sputtering apologies as he tries to regain his footing.
As both finished preparing, Hanma pulled Kisaki towards him to finish his tux, starting with smoothing out the satin lapels and placing a neat white handkerchief on the breastplate.
“Stay there for a while.”
Hanma asked as he excused himself from the room, as he does so another tremor resonated from the ground, much stronger than before, kisaki held on to the dresser for stability, he couldn’t dare bring a hand to his face to ease the threatening tears from spilling, his hands went numb from his grip.
As the quake eases, he hears hanma enter the room holding two pieces of delicate flowers.
Kisaki can see the tremor in his hands as he got closer, and he seems paler than when he had left.
In every corner Kisaki’s eyes can flit to, it only reminds him of how little time they have left.
“Come here.” Hanma gently whispers as he reached out for a lapel to gently pin the flower down, he smoothed it once and then turned towards the mirror to put the other one on his own.
“Let me do it.”
Kisaki hears himself speak before he can think about it.
Hanma releases a breathy laugh, “Didn’t think you’d be able to reach me.”
“Go to hell.”
“Oh, I’m going there alright.”
Despite so, Hanma gave him the flower. Now up close he recognized this as the flowers they had picked up from an abandoned flower shop around the corner, when they still had the freedom and spirit to go out and face the world.
But it hasn’t wilted to an extent. You could still see the remnants of its purity somewhere there, and with a shaky hand Kisaki reached up to pin the flower to Hanma’s own.
Kisaki feels himself tumble despite the lack of quakes. It all feels real, and suddenly he couldn’t breathe.
“Hey- breathe for me ‘saki, c’mon breathe.”
Kisaki feels Hanma move, but he cannot make out what is happening, too much is happening at once, too much is going to happen at once, Kisaki can feel himself slowly slipping away.
“Darling, breathe for me, I’m right here, you’re fine- we’ll be fine, breathe for me.”
“I-I cant, fuck I c-cant.”
“Time your breathing with me, you can do it. Can I hold you?”
Kisaki grabs ahold of the other’s waist, pulling him in as he tries to get a hold of the other’s heartbeat, straining his ears as he presses the other closer as he can feel the remnants of a quake begin under his feet.
“That’s it, listen to my breathing, you’re here, i’m here, were going to be ok, take deep breaths.”
The earth rumbled beneath them, a soft hum rippling, Kisaki can feel movement but cannot decipher, he feels himself being enclosed in warmth and bony arms as he feels smoke and soot dance around them, the ceiling creaks and dust falls, it feels like an eternity as he they stood there in each other’s embrace as the world is finally in its closing remarks.
The quake eventually subsides, but Kisaki remains clutched with the other. He doesn’t want to let go.
He’s still trying to catch his breath as the air stutters inside him. Kisaki feels a gentle hand run through his hair and sweet murmurs being pressed to his ear but he feels himself loosing touch; he zones out as he tries to locate the other’s heartbeat. The only thing he knows can bring him peace.
The two of them breathe, and in the riot of the world crumbling down, there was solace in the way they fall in each other’s arms, their breaths mingling and being each others’ own.
Kisaki calms down, and in the realization he feels all the time that he’d wasted trying to breathe, he feels himself waste enough time for a lifetime.
“Dance with me, darling.”
Hanma begins, pulling away from the embrace but still keeping one hand attached to the back of the others head, he turns around to fire the radio on, the static hums in the air, Kisaki felt ludicrous for the other man, ‘would it really be possible for there to be music while the world is ending?’ but he dare not say anything.
The radio hums as it picks up a channel, and as it plays a steady tune, the roof creaks and grime falls on their head. Kisaki clenches his fist, hoping the numbness of his palm would tune out the ruins of the earth.
A tune begins to play, and then a steady beat, resonating through the room the melody of ‘Its been a long, long time’ hums, what a beautiful song, Kisaki thinks, he could deal with that, he could deal with such melody as the world erodes before his eyes.
Hanma turns around as a smile creeps to his face. He looks pleased, but there was a profound lack in his eyes, he looked empty.
Kisaki’s heart clenched
“Place your arms here,” Hanma begins, placing Kisaki’s arm on his shoulder and holding the other one on his own, intertwining their fingers. Hanma puts an arm around the other mans waist and presses closer. The room around them shudders.
The first step was clumsy, neither of the two of them had been accustomed to movement in the first place, and this made Hanma giggle, soft and gentle.
“Wished I could’ve danced you like this”
“You are.”
“In a better time.”
“In a better time.” Kisaki parrots as the two of them continue their soft waltz.
The two spins and suddenly Kisaki can see better wallpapers and better furnishing, as his feet moves along the voice of Harry James accompanied by the jazz of trombones, the floor no longer creaks, instead it was waxed, dark brown and shining, as he looks up at hanma, who’s eyes turned glossy, looking down at his with longing, he could smell the kitchen, fresh bread and stuffed with tea.
Kisaki sees a flash of bright light in his peripheral. In time Hanma holds him closer, his hand reached to wrap around his arms, the radio doesn’t stutter.
Kisaki could feel himself stiffen, but his feet won’t stop, the gentle sway of their hips accompanied the sway of the floor.
He buries his face in the other’s chest; he had nothing to lose at that point, and he shakes, the music doesn’t stop.
“I dont want to die.”
“Hush darling, it’s ok, focus on me.”
“I-I don’t want to die yet- i’m scared god-“
“I am too- fuck i’m scared too, but it’s ok its gonna be over soon, focus on me, i’m holding you- we’ll be all right.”
A piercing crash resonated from outside, it echoed in their bodies as they press on each other closer, it suddenly felt hot- too hot, it was scorching, kisaki can smell smoke, and through his closed lids he can see it, glowing orange- why is the music still going?
“Dance with me again Kisaki-“
“I’ll be waiting”
A bright flash surged through the room, and pain- no they didn’t feel pain, it was just numb, cold, empty, empty hands, empty bodies.
The show has finally come to an end.
—
It became a lore.
Of sorts, when the world ended, the souls of those who loved continue to walk in search for whom they dedicated their whole hearts too.
Their lives proceeding that would have stripped them off of their memory of their last, but it is the heart that remembers.
And in the blanket of darkness, two hands had finally reached, a melody plays in the whisper of the wind, they step once, step twice, they continue in rhythm- finally, dancing to their hearts’ content, in a better time.