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The air in Takumi’s room feels suffocating.
It’s climate-controlled, a perfect room temperature, but covered in blankets that feels too hot; with the blankets removed, it’s still a little too warm, and with sleeping clothes removed it’s still a little too warm, and so after an hour of tossing and turning and staring at the ceiling and staring at the ceiling and staring at the ceiling and staring at the ceiling Takumi just puts his clothes back on and goes outside.
Brisk air greets him beneath a starry sky. He takes a deep breath and exhales it back out, filling his lungs with the cold breeze. So much better. Prettier, too, with that sky above him.
And yet it’s worse, in some ways, looking up at that sky, feeling that breeze. The night air of a planet that was never theirs to live on. The sky marked by a false moon that never held the things he thought he held dear.
It still feels like it can’t possibly be true. His memories are so vivid, so clear. He remembers the budding crow’s feet on his mom’s face that she tried to hide with makeup; the taste of the hamburg steak she made on his birthday; the cracks in the sidewalk outside their apartment; the droning voice of his homeroom teacher; the way Karua’s eyes crinkled when she smiled--
The way Karua pouted on the morning of a bad hair day. The way Karua always made sure her uniform was perfectly clean, and badgered him into keeping his clean too. Watching movies with Karua. Studying with Karua. Eating with Karua. The smell of Karua’s conditioner when she rested her head on his shoulder. The taste of Karua’s homemade chocolate. Karua clinging to him during an alarm, her bright eyes wide with fear and her slender fingers digging into his sleeve. Karua. Karua. Karua. Karua, Karua, Karua, Karua--
Nozomi.
But not Nozomi, not really. She didn’t do any of that. Her mannerisms are the same, but the weight of history is only a handful of one-sided conversations during childhood, not a lifetime spent together. She never helped him with his homework, or complimented his mom’s cooking, or made him repeat the promise whenever she got scared.
Nozomi is Nozomi, and that’s its own thing. But Karua is Karua. And Karua isn’t real.
Karua isn’t--
But it felt so real. It felt so real.
Takumi stares up at the Artificial Satellite until he’s so exhausted he has to return to bed before he passes out.
Even then, his room still feels suffocating.
---
It helps, a little, that everyone else is having the same problem.
In the Cafeteria, Shouma morosely tells him about how much he misses Leo. In the Bio Lab, Yugamu paces back and forth, muttering. In the Garage, Tsubasa hesitantly asks if he knew his grandparents, and when he admits he didn’t she tells him all about hers, the words spilling out of her like a waterfall. In the Courtyard--
Takumi doesn’t go to the Courtyard.
In the Library, Nozomi sits quietly, the way Karua did when she was thinking about something, and when he walks up to her she gives him a fragile smile and says, “I must be poor company for this. You’re all in so much pain, and I…am too, but not for as many reasons.”
Karua always cared about others before herself. Takumi’s chest hurts at the reminder.
He sits next to her. She doesn’t smell the same. Different conditioner.
“Maybe I just want to talk to you,” he says.
She hesitates, and says, delicately, “Is it me you want to talk to?”
He doesn’t have a good answer for that, and she leaves.
---
Takumi joins the battle, when it comes, because Nozomi is there and Nozomi doesn’t deserve to die. But also because--
When he hears her voice over the comm, it’s both fearful and resolute. She’s scared, but she’s going to do this anyway. And it just--it just reminds him, a little, maybe more than a little, of Karua dashing through the streets during an alarm, face pale with fear but determined to get to a shelter instead of huddling in a corner like she wants to. It was always easier for her to make that run when he was with her.
There’s so many enemies. Even with him, the tide won’t turn. He realizes that he’s going to die here.
But he promised, didn’t he? So many times. So he has to, until he can’t anymore.
The point is made moot when everyone else arrives. He’s relieved, though; he didn’t want to die. And this way she’s safe, too. No need for a dramatic last stand.
He’s not sure how he feels about Eito arriving too. But it did help, he supposes.
---
Takumi knows he’ll have to make a choice eventually. Soon, probably. Will they continue to fight this war? Will they put their lives on the line for a civilization that was never theirs? A race that was never theirs? Will they aid and abet genocide?
He lies on his bed, one arm covering his eyes, and thinks, and thinks, and thinks.
The moral choice is obvious. But is that all there is to it?
Every hour of every day these days he feels a little sick. Like there’s lead in his stomach, pulling him down. He asked Tsubasa for some of her anti-nausea meds, and she gave them to him with a sympathetic face, but they didn’t have any effect. So it’s not a physical thing. It’s just him. Him and this terrible choice dragging down his soul.
He takes a deep breath to steady himself.
What would--
What would Karua say, if she was here?
She’d say--
It’s a tough choice, but I know you can do it, Takkun! You help me all the time, so I know you’ll pick the best option!
Which isn’t very helpful.
So, if he thinks about it some more, maybe she’d say--
You want my help? Hmmm. Well, I would pick whatever helps the most people. It’s a little unfair, but the whole choice is unfair. Maybe there’s no way to be a hero here. But you’re still my hero, Takkun!
He smiles faintly at the idea. She would say something silly like that.
But the first part of what she says there. The most people. How many humans are there, compared to Futurans? He doesn’t know. Sirei might not know either. Millions of humans, certainly, but Futurum is an entire planet. But then again, Futurum has been devastated by war for…decades, centuries? He’s not sure. Enough time that the population has probably decreased by a lot.
The cold calculation of lives as a numbers game isn’t clear, then. There might be more Futurans. But there might not be. It might be about equal. If the war’s been really bad, the scale might tip in favor of humanity.
And to that, Karua would say…
Then you should do what feels right to you, Takkun. What’s most important to you? What do you care about?
He cares about…
Can he really say he cares about people he doesn’t know?
He cares about…
The people he does know, the people he knows are on his side, the people he trusts, the people he’s spent every real day of his life with. Them, he knows he wants to live.
He imagines Karua smiling. Saying,
That’s right, Takkun. They’re what matters. I know you can make the right choice.
He rolls over onto his side. If he imagines it, he can almost smell that sweet scent, almost feel the warmth of her embrace.
The weight starts to lessen. Listening to Karua was the right idea. She’s always been a comforting presence, always been the lodestone of his life. If it wasn’t for Karua, who would he even be? So much of who he is is tied up in her. A world without her doesn’t make sense.
What Shouma said, what Sirei confirmed--those impossible revelations--
They’re true, he knows they are. But Karua…
Takumi lets his arm fall from his eyes. Sleep slips over him like a cool blanket.
He feels the warmth of a hand stroking his hair.
---
The next day, he drifts around the school.
He’s never put much thought into it before, but what would Karua think about this place? All of its oddities, the way it’s like and unlike the TRC. What would she think about--the Cafeteria, for example.
She’d say,
Wow! Any food you want? I never got to try that sakura parfait from the cafe down the street--can I make that here? Oh, but I shouldn’t eat that every day, it’s so many calories. But…once in a while is fine. Do you want to try a bite, Takkun?
And he’d decline, a little embarrassed. Sweets are a girl thing. But he can watch her enjoy it, and that’s just as good.
He walks to the Library next and stares down the rows and rows of books. He’s read a few of them, in his time here, but he’s never been much of a reader. What would Karua think about it, though?
She’d clap her hands together, eyes shining, and say,
That’s way more books than the school library at home! What do they cover? Oh, this one’s history--is it the history of Earth, or Futurum? Looks like it’s Earth. Aw, look, all those black bars. I guess they don’t want us reading this one. I wonder why it’s here, then? Are there any books here you want to read, Takkun?
He’d have to admit he’s not that interested. She’d pout and tell him he should expand his horizons. He’d promise to try, and she’d insist he really promise, and he would. And then he would have to try to read a book or two. Probably one she’d like, so he could talk to her about it.
Takumi wanders over to the Garage, half-expecting to see Tsubasa there; but fortunately, she isn’t, and he can have his thoughts in peace. What would Karua say here?
She’d say,
This is where you upgrade your weapons? Fighting must be so scary. You’re so brave, Takkun. I could never do that.
And he’d protest and point out that Nozomi does, so--
Actually, Karua would say,
This is where you upgrade your weapons? Fighting must be so scary. You’re so brave, Takkun. I wish I could help you. If I was here, I’d cheer you on! And that’d make you stronger, right? I always feel stronger when I’m with you. I hope you feel stronger when you’re with me.
Which is basically what Nozomi does, so it’s fine.
Anyway, he’d tell her that she doesn’t have to be strong. It’s okay for her to rely on him. He’ll always protect her, after all. If she’s scared, if she’s vulnerable, if she needs help--that’s what he’s there for.
And she’d pout, and then she’d smile, and he’d smile, and everything would be okay for that moment.
Takumi keeps walking around like that, from location to location. Sometimes he does see people. They seem to be lost in their own thoughts.
Eventually, he goes back to his own room. He feels much better than he did when he left it. Spending time with Karua always relaxes him.
---
Sirei asks them to choose.
Everyone dithers. It’s his job to choose, though, so that’s fine. So he states his decision as clearly as possible: they’re going to continue to fight. Not to save humanity, but to ensure their own safety.
He can’t say he feels good about it. It’s not the right decision, probably. But his friends here are all he has, all he’s ever really had--plus Karua, of course--and it’s hard for him to make a choice that will put them at risk.
Everyone accepts it. Sirei seems happy.
Takumi could never have made this decision without Karua. Without her advice, her comfort, he would’ve been trapped in his head forever, unable to choose. It’s hard to imagine he managed the first hundred days without her, even--and maybe that’s why they went so badly; maybe he needs her on a fundamental level. Without Karua’s support, without the certainty that comes from protecting her, he’s adrift. He’s nothing.
So Karua--
So Karua can’t be--
---
Later, Nozomi finds him in a hallway.
“Thank you,” she says, her beautiful face lit up with relief. “I know that must have been hard for you. But even if humanity caused us so much pain, I still…don’t want them to die. So saving them, even if it’s as a side benefit to saving ourselves, feels better than letting them die out.”
Takumi smiles back at her. “I should be thanking you. You were a big part of why I chose this.”
She blinks at him. “I was?”
“Yeah. I kept thinking about what you’d do. It made everything clearer when I was just getting lost in my own head over it.”
“Oh, I’m…not sure what to say.” She gives a small laugh. “I suppose I’m honored? It’s good to know I’ve managed to have some impact.”
“You’ve had plenty,” Takumi says earnestly. “I might be the leader, but you’re the backbone. I’d never had made it this far without you.”
She fiddles with her hair. “Ahaha, that’s very sweet of you to say.”
“It’s the truth--”
“I should go talk to Moko,” she interrupts. “She asked me to come see her later.”
“Oh. All right.”
She flashes another smile. “I’ll see you around, Takkun.”
And she makes her exit.
She never was comfortable with praise, Takumi remembers fondly. Always insisted she was just doing her part, and that other people deserved it more than she did. It was so cute. She really is such a sweet girl.
He heads back to his room with a warm feeling in his chest.
---
Eito’s request is…odd.
He’s on their side now, right? And he’s not asking for anything dangerous. But Takumi still feels uncomfortable about it. He sits on his bed, staring at the walls and thinking about it.
Karua nudges her shoulder against his. “You’re overthinking this. You should go help him.”
Takumi frowns. “What if this is some plan of his, though? The Gift-O-Matic can make almost anything. Maybe black glass and glasses frames are what it needs to make a bomb.”
“Glasses frames, for a bomb?”
“Or something else! I don’t know what goes on in his head.”
“You chose to trust him,” Karua reminds him. “If you really thought he was dangerous, you wouldn’t be thinking about whether to do this at all. You would’ve just told him no.”
Takumi flops back down on his bed. “Maybe,” he begrudgingly admits. “But I just don’t know what to think about him. He’s a traitor, he tried to kill us, he wants to destroy humanity--”
“Wanted, according to him.”
“According to him! What if he’s lying about that?”
“What if he’s not? The truth hurt everyone so badly. Why wouldn’t it hurt him, too?”
Takumi rolls over to face her. “I don’t get why you’re so in his favor all of a sudden. You know what he’s capable of.”
Karua lies down on her side, barely inches away from him. “I just think anyone can become better if they want to be. Even him. And besides, you miss him, don’t you? Wouldn’t it be nice to have that again?”
Takumi’s face screws up. “I don’t miss him.”
She gives him a pitying look. “You do.”
After a long silence, Takumi exhales and says, “Fine. I miss him a little bit. But the guy I knew wasn’t real.”
She reaches out, touches her hand to his face. “I’m
She reaches out, touches her hand to his face. “Maybe he could be, if you gave him a chance.”
Karua’s too nice a person. Too trusting. But…maybe she has a point.
“And if he does try anything, I know you can beat him again,” she adds. “You’re so strong, Takkun! You can win any fight if you try!”
He gives her a fond smile, leans into her touch. “With you supporting me, I know I can.”
Okay, he’ll give Eito a chance. For Karua’s sake, if nothing else.
And if Eito does try something, then…well, the cage isn’t going anywhere.
---
It’s a bad idea to go exploring alone. Karua doesn’t quite count; with no hemoanima, she’s more of a liability than an aid. He can’t just leave her back at the school, though. What if there’s an attack and he’s not there? No, she’s better off staying with him, even if it’s out here. But anyway, he needs to bring along some others, so he does.
“Black glass and glasses frames,” Yugamu repeats, stepping over a piece of rubble. “I wonder what he needs them for, precisely.”
Shouma ducks under a piece of rebar. “I bet any theory I came up with would be as full of garbage as I am, so I shouldn’t try.”
“I don’t think it matters so much what he’s going to do with them,” Karua says. “The fact that he’s putting his trust in us is enough.”
Takumi steps through the large hole in the wall, avoiding any sharp edges. “Unless he’s got some plot going on.” He’s still not entirely over it.
Karua sighs. “We talked about this, Takkun…”
“That looks promising.” Yugamu points out an armoire in the corner. The room must’ve been a bedroom once; the hole is partly blocked by the half-charred, half-missing remains of a mattress and bedframe, and the other side has an open closet with some clothes scattered on the floor.
There’s dust here, but it looks more like it’s from the wall being blown apart. The room was probably abandoned only recently.
…Takumi tries not to think about that.
Anyway, Yugamu had a point about the armoire. They walk up to it and take a look.
The mirror on it is shattered, and the wooden drawers have a large crack in them, probably from the chunk of rubble sitting on top. But there are the remains of makeup containers, and a heavily dented can of hairspray. If this is where the room’s former inhabitant did their morning routine, it’s not implausible there might be glasses here.
Karua pulls open a drawer. It sticks a little; she has to yank it. “Look!” she says, delighted.
Yugamu fishes it out from inside: a broken glasses case, plastic covering smashed. “The glass itself is almost certainly shattered, but perhaps the frames…”
He opens it, and indeed, there sits a very broken pair of glasses. Well, the glass is very broken. The frames are only a little bent.
“If I ever needed glasses, this is what the doctor would give me,” Shouma informs them.
“One down,” Takumi says. “That was easy.”
Yugamu cocks his head, puts a hand to his ear. “Famous last words. Sounds like there are some invaders in the area after all.”
Takumi can hear them now too, a parade of lumbering footsteps outside the building. They probably haven’t been spotted yet, but if they want to keep checking the area, they’ll need to get rid of them.
He draws his sword. “Everyone ready?”
Karua nods, raising her
Karua nods. “I’ll keep an eye out for more!”
Yugamu brushes some loose shards off the glasses and pockets the frames. “Needs must, I suppose, even if killing them has lost what small savor it once had.”
“Feel free to throw me at them if you want. My revolting aura is probably corrosive.”
“All right, move out!”
They manage to sneak up on them--and it’s not even that many, just a handful of Darumarr and three Grizzlei. Easily dispatched. Shouma isn’t even needed, which he seems to have expected.
Takumi shakes some blood off his sword. “Everyone good?”
A chorus of assent. He turns his head to Karua.
There’s a small spatter of viscera on her face. His blood runs cold.
He closes in on her. “How’d that get there? Did an invader get close to you?”
Her eyes widen. “Ah, not that close, the blood just sprayed a little when Yugamu got it.”
“You should’ve been farther away. It’s not safe.”
“The range is only so far…”
Yugamu coughs. “Charming as this is, we should get a move on before more show up.”
Right. Especially if Karua’s being unreasonable and throwing herself into danger.
“Fine,” Takumi says shortly. “Just make sure to stay away if we run into any more trouble.”
“…all right, Takkun.”
The atmosphere feels a little awkward now. But that’s fine, if it means Karua’s safe.
They keep searching, through ruined buildings and smashed sidewalks and scorched gardens. It’s not nearly as easy to find the second item as it was the first. Where does black glass generally go?
The answer proves to be “in an art museum”.
“They really do have their own culture,” Karua murmurs, looking up at a row of paintings. Most of them are intact. This section seems to be for abstract works--whether it’s the specialty of one artist, or a general movement, Takumi doesn’t know. But even though the imagery doesn’t mean much to him, he can tell it is imagery. A distorted structure that sort of looks like a shrine, a series of orbs that might be the sun or planets or stars, a long swath of yellow that could be a desert with approximate figures on it that might be people doing some kind of activity he doesn’t really understand.
If they’d been born on Futurum, as regular people, would they know what this meant? Would they know the painters? Would one of them have wanted to be a painter?
Karua’s always been fascinated by old Earth. Would she have loved this world, too, if it was hers?
Takumi shakes off the line of thought. It’s not productive.
They find the glass in a wing that’s full of the stuff: a riot of colors and shapes, suspended from the ceiling or sitting on plinths. Shattered, mostly. Big piles that were probably a beautiful structure once.
“There’s a black one over here,” Karua calls it, and leans down to pick up a piece; Takumi rushes over there to stop her.
“It’s dangerous to pick up broken glass, I’ll do it,” he says.
Her eyebrows press together. “I was being careful, Takkun.”
“I know. Just…humor me, okay?”
She sighs. “Fine.”
She doesn’t get it. What if something happened to her? If she got hurt--if she died--the Revive-O-Matic can’t bring her back, she’d just be. Gone. That can’t happen. Takumi’s spent his entire life with her; he can’t imagine a world where she isn’t there.
He promised to protect her, over and over. Is there even a point to his existence if he doesn’t do that? He has to keep her safe.
Maybe that means being a little pushy about it. That’s fine. If that’s what it takes to get her to understand, that’s fine.
He picks up a piece of the glass. Black, opaque, and very, very sharp. No, she really shouldn’t handle things like this.
“Good eye, Karua,” Yugamu says approvingly, leaning over to take a look at the find. “And with that, we’re done here. Fun as it is to goggle at the dreams of the dead.”
Karua’s face turns somber. “The Futurans really are just people, aren’t they. And we’re going to…”
“We’re going to survive,” Takumi says firmly. “There’s no point in thinking about it beyond that.”
Karua looks like she wants to say something, but she doesn’t. Takumi feels a little guilty. Only a little, though.
“My microscopic brain is too small to understand any of these anyway,” Shouma says, looking around the shattered sculptures.
The return journey is largely quiet.
Takumi goes back to his room as soon as he hands the supplies over to Eito. The expression on Eito’s face--happy, but also something else, something Takumi can’t really figure out--lingers in the back of his mind, and he wants to get rid of it.
Lying in bed with Karua is the best way to do it. In her arms, the entire world seems to fall away.
She strokes his hair. “Sorry for being difficult today, Takkun. I know you’re just trying to protect me.”
He inhales that soft, sweet fragrance. “It’s okay. So long as you understand.”
“I do understand.” She presses a kiss to his mouth. A brief, warm touch that sends a soothing ripple through his body. “My knight in shining armor,” she murmurs. “Always there to help me. Always there to save me.”
There’s a lump in his throat. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he mumbles.
Her warm smile is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “Then it’s a good thing I’ll always be here, Takkun.”
He closes his eyes on that image, to preserve it forever. “Yeah. You will.”
This new world is so confusing, so uncertain, so full of hard choices and painful results. How could he navigate any of that without her? He needs the clarity that comes from Karua. No matter what world he’s in, no matter why he’s fighting or who he’s fighting or what he’s fighting for, protecting Karua is the one clear thing he knows he has to do, the one thing with no complications or thorny questions.
Takumi falls asleep in Karua’s arms, conviction sinking deep into his veins.
---
Eito’s--
Eito’s…
Insane, Takumi thinks, and then he remembers Karua saying, you miss him, and the ironclad conviction standing before him in black glasses is hard to reject, when he knows what conviction feels like.
He lets Eito join the team. Karua’s hand squeezes his, and he knows he’s made the right decision.
And besides, there’s--
There’s something…
Takumi can’t put his finger on it. Maybe Karua will know.
He asks her about it in the hallway.
Her eyebrows rise. “Eito? I do feel sorry for him. To go to such lengths to earn our trust…he must be very unhappy.”
Pity, then. A trace of compassion for someone suffering, even if the someone brought it upon themselves.
“I hope he’ll be okay,” she continues, glancing down the direction Eito went just a minute ago. “Everything will be much harder for him now. I can’t imagine combat will be easy, in particular.” She hesitates. “I know you don’t like him very much, but you are the closest thing he has to a friend, aren’t you? Maybe you should watch out for him a little. Just until he finds his footing.”
Karua’s right, as usual. “Thanks. I think I’ll do that.”
She smiles. “If that’s all, I told Moko I’d stay with you the rest of the day, of course.”
Of course. He takes her hand, and they walk back to his room. He needs to do some more thinking about Eito, and he’ll need her help for that.
---
Eito seems a little surprised when Takumi immediately agrees to let him join the exploration for Gaku’s supplies.
“I thought you might take some convincing,” Eito says. He’s facing a few inches to the left of Takumi. Takumi guesses that’s just what Eito does now.
“Thank Karua for it. She said I should help you get your bearings.”
Eito pauses. “Karua?”
“Yeah?” Takumi says. He waves in her direction, then realizes the pointlessness of the action. “She’s right here.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t…” Eito trails off. His nose twitches, just slightly.
“That’s all right, Eito,” Karua says warmly. “There’s no need to thank me. You’re part of the team now; we look after each other.”
“Karua,” Eito repeats. “I…see. My apologies, I’m a little mixed up at the moment. It’s the residual pain, I think.”
Karua’s eyebrows press together. “Do you need to lie down? Maybe you shouldn’t go exploring today.”
Instead of answering her question, Eito asks, “Have you been spending much time with Karua lately, Takumi?”
Takumi frowns. “I’m always with her. Haven’t you noticed?” Karua barely leaves his side. He can’t have forgotten.
“Of course. Do you think we could take a moment before the exploration? There’s something I’d like to ask Hiruko about.”
Takumi suppresses a flare of irritation. They’re doing this for Eito; he wants to get it over with so Gaku can get to work. “I should really get this done today. You don’t have to come if you’re busy.”
“No, I’d rather you not leave with only one other person,” Eito says quickly. “I can talk to her later. Do remind me if Karua asks something of me. I might be lost in thought at times.”
They head out into the ruins.
It’s a peaceable trip. Karua does most of the talking; Takumi interjects occasionally, and Eito interjects rarely, mostly with comments that don’t have much to do with the conversation. They stick to the housing areas, at least at first, hoping to find some Futuran’s abandoned backyard grill.
Takumi keeps an eye on Eito the whole time. The level floors of the school might be one thing, but how can he safely navigate an area with so much rubble littering the ground? A heightened sense of hearing and smell won’t help you hear a rock sitting in front of you. And the answer proves to be: he mostly can, somehow, but sometimes he doesn’t.
Ten minutes in, Eito trips over a large piece of broken concrete, almost falling face-first into it. Takumi grabs his arm just in time.
“Well, that was embarrassing,” Eito says mildly, as he regains his balance. “Thank you for the save.”
“I really don’t think you should be out here like this,” Karua says, concern filling her face.
Takumi finally lets go. “Yeah, is this going to keep happening? I want to find everything today, it’ll take a lot longer if you slow us down.”
“I just needed to get my bearings a little, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. I think I heard the wind rustling through leaves over there--perhaps there’s a yard?”
A yard would be a good place to look. Takumi begrudgingly continues.
And Eito does manage, most of the time. It’s actually pretty impressive. He maneuvers around rubble and steps over broken furniture. But sometimes he misses things. About half an hour after the yard (which turned out to not have anything), he almost walks into a huge crater.
Again Takumi grabs him. Maybe a little more forcefully this time; the consequences would’ve been worse than just falling over. “Watch out!”
“My hero,” Eito says drily.
Takumi’s heart thuds in his chest.
“Oh no, Eito!” Karua gasps, fingers touching her chin. “You should be more careful! Takkun can’t always be there to catch you, you know.”
“What is it here, anyway?” Eito asks. “As you have just seen, it’s difficult for me to tell.”
“A big crater,” Takumi replies, a little distantly.
“Perhaps a missile landed here once. Thank you, by the way; I imagine that would have been difficult to get out of.”
“Yeah.”
“…you can let go of me now.”
“Right! Right.” Takumi lets go of him.
Eito brushes off his sleeve where Takumi touched him, as if there’s some invisible dirt there. Well, it probably wouldn’t be invisible to him. Or--it wouldn’t have been, before yesterday.
“I’ll do better,” Eito says, and there’s a firmness in his voice, but a tinge of worry, too. Maybe he does think he’ll have to go back if he’s slowing them down. Maybe he’s starting to realize just how drastically his life has changed, and he’s trying to pretend it hasn’t.
“Don’t worry about it,” Takumi finds himself saying. “I don’t mind lending a hand.”
“Yes, you do want people to see you as a hero.” Eito sighs. “Let’s keep moving.”
They keep moving.
They strike gold in a burnt-out home goods store: a grill set with everything Gaku wanted, albeit in questionable shape. It certainly isn’t functional as is, but maybe the Gift-O-Matic can fix that.
The parts are also pretty heavy. Takumi and Eito split the load, or at least mostly split; the stuff Takumi hands Eito is on the lighter side. It’s fine. It’s not like Eito can tell.
While they’re walking back, Eito says, “Out of curiosity, is Karua carrying anything?”
Takumi shakes his head, pointlessly. “No, the two of us can handle it.”
“Takkun’s so strong,” Karua says admiringly.
“Of course. Silly of me to ask.”
When they finally do arrive back at the school, they drop off everything at Gaku’s room. Gaku looks at them, eyes darting back and forth between them.
“You brought Eito with you?” he asks.
“I volunteered, and Takumi kindly accepted,” Eito replies. “My apologies for any offense. I’d never dream of doing something a repulsive creature like you would find objectionable.”
“Man, you haven’t changed at all,” Gaku says, shaking his head. “Whatever. There’s more stuff I need, but you can get it tomorrow.”
Takumi holds back a groan. Another trip outside? They probably could’ve managed to get it all today, if Gaku told them beforehand. But maybe Eito’s getting a little tired.
Once Gaku closes the door on them, Takumi turns to Eito and says, “You should get some rest. You’ve had a hard day today.”
“Truly your disgusting visage hides a font of kindness. I do have some other things to do, however, so I’ll take my leave for now.”
Takumi frowns. “Do you need to do them yourself? I can take care of things for you.”
“Takumi.” There’s a sharp edge to Eito’s tone that wasn’t there before. “I don’t require your assistance for everything. And besides, your presence would be something of a detriment in this instance.”
He bristles at the implication. “Fine. Don’t come crying to me if you walk into a wall.”
Eito doesn’t respond to that, just walks off towards the exit. Takumi watches him leave with a lingering dissatisfaction.
Karua takes his arm. “He’ll come around. You’re so nice, Takkun, even helping people who don’t appreciate it.”
Takumi nods. Not that he actually feels like a hero, or anything, it’s just--Eito seems like he could use some assistance, and Takumi can do that. Takumi’s good at that.
“I should at least try,” Takumi says. “I think he needs help, even if he won’t always admit it.”
Karua rests her head on his shoulder, eyes crinkling as she smiles. “You always make the right decision, Takkun. If this is what you want to do, it’s for the best.”
It feels good to hear her say that. So often these days Takumi wonders if he’s doing the right thing--if there might’ve been a better way to do something, a way that would’ve saved everyone, and his decisions just made it all worse. Sometimes he wonders if coming back at all was the right idea, even. But no, surely it was--Karua right next to him, whole and happy, is proof enough of that.
So Karua’s right. He just needs to do what he always does, and it’ll work out.
---
The next morning, just after the announcement, there’s a knock at his door.
Takumi untangles himself from Karua, irritated. What if Karua was changing? It’s too early to bother them. Still, he opens the door.
Hiruko stands behind it, with Eito. She looks oddly grim; he mostly looks uncertain, like he’s not sure what he’s supposed to do here.
“Takumi,” Hiruko says, by way of greeting. “Is Karua with you?”
Takumi glances back at the bed. She’s awake, peering up at them from where she lies under the blankets. “Yeah, but she’s still in her pajamas. Can this wait?”
Hiruko’s face twists. “She’s in bed with you?”
“Yeah? Is that a problem?” No one’s ever had a problem with it before.
Hiruko exhales. “Refresh my memory. Where is Karua from?”
That’s a weird way of asking it. “The Satellite, the same as us.”
She doesn’t seem satisfied by that answer. “What form does her hemoanima take?”
It’s too early for this. “She doesn’t have hemoanima, remember?”
Hiruko glances back at Eito; he of course does not respond to that.
“If she doesn’t have hemoanima,” Hiruko says, slowly, “why is she here?”
She--
Takumi knows the answer to that, obviously, he just…it’s too early. He just woke up. Of course his head’s a little muddled.
“It doesn’t matter why she’s here. She’s part of the team. I’d never have come this far without her.”
Eito finally speaks up. “Do you remember what you and Karua told us about, after we found out the truth? How the two of you actually met?”
“We met when we were kids.”
“Yes, but the circumstances. Kamakura Hospital. Her finding in you in the capsule.”
None of this makes sense. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
From behind him, a hand rests on his shoulder. He turns his head to see--it’s Karua, of course, still in her sleeping clothes. Her face wears a gentle smile.
“It’s too early to have a serious conversation, Takkun,” she says. “Close the door and come back to bed.”
Of course Karua’s right. Eito and Hiruko probably just woke up too; they must be a little confused. All of this will make more sense if he gets some more sleep.
He nods at her, and she drifts back to the bed, sitting down on it with her hands folded in her lap. She looks up at him expectantly.
Takumi turns his head back to Eito and Hiruko. “She’s right. I’m going back to bed for a while.”
Hiruko’s face creases. “What did she say, exactly?”
“She was right behind me, I know you heard her.” Takumi rolls his eyes and closes the door.
For a moment, he wonders if they’re going to knock on it again, keep trying to disturb him. But there’s only some quiet, muffled words, and the faint sounds of footsteps receding into the distance.
He lets out a huge sigh and flops back down on the bed, head in Karua’s lap.
She combs her fingers through his hair. “That’s right, Takkun. Go back to sleep. I’m here.”
Her hands are so warm. Her thighs are so soft. Takumi drifts back to sleep immediately.
He’s not sure what time it is when the knocking at the door returns.
He rolls out of bed, irritated, and walks across the room to open it. “What is it?”
But it’s just Eito this time. Takumi relaxes a little.
“We decided it would be best if you went exploring today after all,” Eito says. “Hiruko’s, ah, running interference, so it’s just us.”
Karua’s already dressed. “I hope you don’t mind if I come along. Eito’s told me what you’re looking for today, and I’d like to help.”
When did he do that? It must’ve been when Takumi was asleep. “Sure. Let me just get dressed.”
He does, and activates his Class Armor for good measure. And they head out into the ruins.
Lumber and a saw. They go a bit further north than they did last time, closer to Second-To-Last Defense Academy.
At first Karua’s in the lead, but that won’t do. Takumi swiftly steps up next to her. “I’ll take point. You should stay behind with Eito.”
“I--” Karua seems to catch herself, and stops whatever she was going to say. “Yes. I’ll do that. Please be careful, Takkun.”
“I could probably use the escort anyway,” Eito says mildly.
He’s right about that. Eito should stay back at the school, really, where the terrain is both stable and familiar. But Takumi wants to keep an eye on him. Who knows what could happen, the way Eito is now.
Of course, Takumi has to worry about Karua, too. Two people to protect. But there are worse duties to have.
As they sift through an old shed, Eito says, “So, Takumi, how’s Karua doing today?”
Takumi picks up a piece of what looks like wood, but turns out to be plastic. “You can ask her directly, you know. She’s right there.”
“Ah, so she is. Well…Karua, how are you doing today?”
Karua keeps picking through the shed.
After several seconds of silence, Eito says, “I’m afraid I didn’t catch that. Takumi, could you repeat it for me?”
“She didn’t say anything,” Takumi says, a little confused. He looks over at her. “Did you not hear him, or something?”
Karua looks up at him. She blinks.
“That was…meant for me?” she says slowly.
“Yeah?”
A brief silence, and then:
“Right! Of course it was. I’m sorry. It must be the stress.” She gives a slightly strained smile. “I’m doing well, Eito. Thank you for asking.”
“Good to know,” Eito replies, his voice a little strained too.
“Are you guys okay? You’re both acting kind of weird,” Takumi says, frowning.
“Just stress, like I said,” Karua replies. “Everyone’s a little on edge these days.”
Which isn’t wrong. “Let’s pick up the pace, then, so we can get back to the school before dark. I don’t want you guys to have to be out here any longer than you have to be.”
They don’t say much the rest of the trip, beyond comments about whatever they’re looking at (or whatever they hear, in Eito’s case). But they find everything they need, and they head back to the school with both saw and lumber in hand.
It is almost dark when they arrive, though. After they’ve handed everything to Gaku--who expresses thanks and tells them to get out so he can work--Takumi turns to Karua and Eito and says, “We should probably all turn in for the night. It’s been a long day.”
“Actually, I was wondering if Karua could join me for something?” Eito asks. “Nothing strenuous, just talking to some people.”
Takumi doesn’t like the idea of Karua going somewhere without him. “Sorry, she’s tired. We’ll both talk to you later, Eito.” He heads back to his room, Karua following and closing the door behind them.
Faintly, he hears some words from outside--Eito’s, probably, and maybe someone else’s. It’s hard to make out entirely, but he thinks he hears an everyone, maybe.
It doesn’t really matter. Karua’s here, so he doesn’t need to think about anything else.
---
The barbecue is--
Well, it’s a little awkward. Nobody really wants to talk to him.
Except Karua, of course. She keeps up a lively conversation, even when everyone else keeps their distance. So it’s not so bad. And just more proof that no matter what, he’ll always have Karua, ready to support him and tell him he’s doing the right thing and have a warm embrace and a warmer smile.
Eventually Takumi gets up to go get some more food. When he returns, plate laden with another piping-hot serving of yakiniku, he finds Karua’s switched seats; now she’s next to Moko. The isolated corner where they sat together moments ago is empty.
Well, she probably just wants him to make friends. It’s not even a bad idea. He sits down next to her again.
She looks up at him, eyes wide with trepidation. “Oh, hello, Takkun. Do you want something?”
“Just to continue the conversation. You moved seats, so I will too.”
“I--yes, of course, I moved seats. I wanted to speak to Moko.”
Moko looks at her sharply. “You don’t have to enable him, Karua. It’s just gonna make him worse.”
Karua leans in close to Moko, whispers something into her ear. Moko’s mouth twists, and she whispers something back; her whisper isn’t very quiet, though, so Takumi can clearly hear, “Maybe he should get involved, if that might happen in the first place.”
“I’m right here,” Takumi says loudly. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not.”
Karua turns back to him, wearing a gentle smile. “Sorry about that, Takkun. Just a little secret between girls.”
A faint heat rises on Takumi’s face. He’s fine with not hearing any of that. “O-okay.”
“Anyway, this food really is delicious,” Karua says, picking up her mostly-empty skewer. “Gaku’s outdone himself.”
“Yeah, it’s great.” Takumi bites off a chunk of meat. Perfectly seasoned, juicy, just soft enough to bite into without having to tear at it with your teeth. “Better than most festival food I’ve had,” he says, still chewing.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, Takkun,” Karua scolds.
Takumi swallows, maybe a little sooner than he should; the meat feels heavy going down his throat. “Sorry.”
“I’m a little surprised you haven’t been talking to Eito tonight,” Karua says. “Isn’t this supposed to be about making him part of the team? Gaku said it was your idea, earlier.”
Did he? Takumi must have missed that. “It is, yeah. But I’m already friends with Eito, so it’s more important for the others to get used to him.”
Moko looks mystified. “You’re friends? He tried to kill you, like, two weeks ago.”
“He didn’t really mean it. And anyway, he’s not like that when you get to know him.”
“He has been acting very differently,” Karua concedes. “I didn’t know him well before, of course, but comparing the past few days to the time before that, he’s been very…soft.”
Yeah, that’s a good word for it. Soft, sweet. Just like in the old days, when he always had time for Takumi, always ready to listen to any complaint and offer advice and support Takumi’s plans. Always there with a warm smile.
“Better than the alternative, I guess,” Moko says, shrugging. “But if he tries anything, I’ll be there with a Supreme Dragon Avalanche.”
Karua giggles, touching her fingers to her mouth. “I hope he won’t! Have you done those a lot?”
“Oh, sure! This one time, when I was in a death match with the Funeral Director--”
Takumi listens to their conversation in contentment. It’s not bad for Karua to have other friends. It’ll make her happy, and it’s not dangerous, anyway. Even if he does wish a little that she’d pay more attention to him again.
By the end of the barbecue, everyone’s stuffed and ready to pass out, and he can feel his eyes drifting closed. It wouldn’t be so bad to sleep out here for once, would it? The Wall of Fire will keep them safe, and Karua’s so tired, too. It wouldn’t be…so bad…
It is.
Takumi wakes up in his room with a splitting headache.
He sits up in bed, disoriented--he was just--that Commander, he could’ve--where’s Karua? Where’s Karua? Where’s Karua?
There’s no one else in the room. Where’s Karua, where’s Karua, where’s Karua, where’s Karua, where’s Karua-----
The door opens, and the world that was about to break apart reforms. Takumi collapses back onto the bed with a relieved exhale.
“You’re awake,” Karua says, sounding surprised. “Right as my shift starts, too. I suppose that’s for the best.”
“You’re okay,” Takumi mumbles. “Dahl’xia didn’t…”
“No, he settled for just decapitating you. The rest of us, he left alone with a promise to return later. Now that you’re awake, you should join the team for a strategy meeting.”
“Right. Give me a moment.”
Takumi gets out of bed, wincing at the pain in his head. Karua waits patiently while he splashes some water on his face. There, that’s enough for now. He exits the bathroom and gets ready to head out.
He swings the door open; maybe a little quickly, and maybe he should’ve waited for Karua to move, because it hits her in the face.
She takes a step back, putting a hand to her face; Takumi’s eyes widen. “Shit, are you okay? I didn’t mean to--”
“I’m fine,” Karua says, giving a slightly pained smile. “I shouldn’t have been standing there. Let’s get moving.”
“If you’re sure…”
“I’m sure.” She touches her face again. “More importantly, they’re not broken.”
Karua follows him out of the room. He still feels guilty--but if there’s a strategy meeting, he needs to get to it.
If they don’t defeat Dahl’xia--if they don’t win this war--he’ll never be able to protect Karua.
---
Karua’s plan is of course perfect. Pride swells in his chest as everyone praises her idea.
Then she says, “I’ll have to stay in the Bio Lab with Yugamu while we’re working on it, so I won’t be available for a while,” and his heart sinks.
“You can’t even take breaks?” he asks, trying to keep a hint of desperation out of his voice. If she’s not with him, what can he even do?
She pauses. “I think it would be a good idea for us to spend a little time apart. I can’t always be there for you.”
The desperation starts to seep through. “You can. You always do.”
Karua looks him directly in the eye. “I know this is hard to hear, Takkun, but I want to take a break from you.”
Her voice is gentle, but her words are like knives. Takumi’s heart beats faster and faster, he can feel sweat start to trickle down the back of his neck. This isn’t possible. Karua wouldn’t do this. Karua would never want to leave him. Karua wouldn’t--
“If that’s all, I’d like to get started on the trap. Everyone, I’ll let you know when we’re done.”
The other murmur assent and encouragement, and filter out of the room. A hand lands on Takumi’s shoulder. He turns to see--Hiruko, face stiff.
“I’d like to speak with you alone,” she says. “Come with me.”
“No,” he says, a little louder than he meant to. “I have to stay with Karua.” Even if the poison is meant for commanders, what if something goes wrong and it hurts her? Or the mechanism for the bomb breaks and hurts her? Or anything at all hurts her? And that’s just her. How can he be expected to make any decision if she isn’t there? If something important comes up, he’ll have to deal with it all on his own, and that’s--that’s--
Hiruko’s mouth flattens. “Karua will be fine. At the very least, she will be fine for the next ten minutes. Come.”
She grabs his arm and starts to drag him. He tries to break free of her hold, plant his feet on the ground, but she really is remarkably strong; she manages to get him all the way to a classroom before pushing him inside and blocking his exit.
“Takumi,” she says. “I don’t know what’s happened to you, but you have to face reality. Karua is
The room fills with static.
Hiruko’s words are completely drowned out; even her mouth is blurred. The air turns thick and humid, filling his lungs until it’s hard to breathe. Shadows multiply on the walls, every chair and table casting a host of dark reflections, the shadows themselves twisting and swirling into strange patterns. Through the windows, the sky turns a sickly green, clouds falling to earth like fallen stars. Metal rusts and wood rots, decay sweeping over the classroom. The computer screen on the wall shatters; the glass of the windows melts in translucent globs.
And through it all, static, static, static, drowning out the world.
He stands unmoving, unblinking, as existence roils around him, as perception clings to him like an animal with teeth and claws sunken into his flesh, refusing to let go, refusing to give in. It can’t. It can’t. He can’t. He can’t. He can’t. He can’t. He can’t. He can’t.
Somewhere in the distance, hands grip his shoulders.
And then: it all cuts to a sudden, infinite black.
Takumi’s eyes open.
His room again. He’s lying in bed, staring up at the stark concrete above him.
He sits up in an instant, blankets flung aside. He can’t be here, not alone--
But a voice melts all the fear and anxiety down to nothing.
“It’s best you stay in bed for now,” she says. “Regardless of the exact nature of your condition, we don’t know if you’ll pass out again. Especially if…well.”
Karua leans against the wall some feet away from his bed. She looks perfectly healthy, not a hair out of place, arms crossed. Takumi’s heart rate, just seconds ago spiking into near-tachycardia, relaxes into a normal beat.
“I suppose it’s a little flattering you’d wake during my shift again,” Karua continues. “I wasn’t first on the list, but it’s been over 24 hours.”
“That long?” Takumi says. His eyebrows rise. “Is everything okay? There hasn’t been another attack, has there?”
Karua shakes her head. “Nothing of note has happened. The trap is still under construction, but Yugamu seems confident it’ll be done soon.”
“That’s good.” Takumi rubs the grit out of his eyes. He likes a good nap, but 24 hours is a bit much even for him, and his body’s feeling it. “And you’re doing fine?”
Karua pauses. “Yes. I’m well.”
Takumi gets out of bed, stretching up his arms and cracking a few joints. “I guess Yugamu let you take a break after all.”
A brief silence.
“I should go tell the others you’re awake,” Karua says calmly. “Please stay here for now; you might pass out again.”
Takumi walks up to where she stands. “Really, I feel fine.” He smiles. “It was probably just stress or something. You being here is all the medicine I need.”
Karua takes a step away from him. “That’s very sweet, but I really need to--”
He takes her hand in his. She freezes.
“I get that you’re worried, but you really don’t need to be. I’m fine, can’t you tell?” He squeezes her hand; it flinches.
“Takkun,” she says, hoarsely.
He doesn’t know what’s up with her, but he knows how to fix it. She’s always been taller than him; he places one hand on the side of her face and leans up on the tips of his toes.
“Oh,” she says, very softly, and she doesn’t say anything else.
The kiss is a little different from usual. Her lips are just as soft, but completely unmoving; her hand in his is limp, her posture stiff as a board. But slowly, slowly, she raises a hand to his face, rests it just barely against his cheek. A featherlight touch brushes against his hair. Her fingers twitch, and then they slip into the strands more firmly.
His eyes are closed, but he knows her by touch. He brushes a lock of hair behind her ear. She flinches, again. She must be afraid he’s overexerting himself; how kind of her.
He kisses her more insistently, tries to get her to loosen up more. It works, a little; her lips relax against his. There, that’s better. She’s just concerned about him. His tongue presses against the seam of her lips.
It takes a few seconds for her to part them. He slides his tongue inside her mouth immediately, wraps their tongues together and laps at wet heat, warmth building in his body--
Her hands are suddenly at his chest, shoving him backwards with significant force. He nearly stumbles. Startled, he looks back at her.
She has a hand clapped to her mouth, a faint green tinge to her skin, a horrible pain in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she gasps, muffled. “I can’t--”
“What’s wrong?” She’s never done this before. Is she sick?
“I’m sorry,” she repeats, and stumbles to the door, yanks it open, barely manages the steps as she rushes out of his room.
He follows her, of course, rushing after her and calling, “Karua!” But he’s a little slow on his feet from the long sleep, and she outpaces him easily, though her hand on the roof door scrabbles a little before it finds the handle.
When Takumi makes it to the hallway, he hears a slamming door. If she’s sick, did she go to the restroom? But why didn’t she just use the one in their room?
He skids to a halt in front of the girl’s restroom, panting a little from the run. He’s not going to go in, of course. But he bangs his fist against the door. “Karua! Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
She doesn’t reply. Cold fear starts to creep up his spine. Maybe she can’t respond? Maybe something’s happening to her? Should he go in? His hand reaches for the handle--
“Takkun?” he hears from down the hall behind him, in a hesitant, confused voice.
He whips around, and relief drenches his insides. She’s fine. He’s not sure how she got behind him, but she’s fine.
“Karua,” he says. “Why’d you run off? Are you feeling okay?”
She purses her lips. “I…don’t know why I did that. Sorry, I’m a little scatterbrained today. Could you remind me what happened when I ran away?”
She really must be sick, then. The cold starts to rise again. “I woke up, and you were in my room. We talked for a little while, and I tried to show you I was feeling better, but then you started acting like you were sick or something and you ran out of the room. I thought you were going to the restroom here.” Though she wasn’t, apparently.
Karua’s eyes look sharp, wary. He doesn’t know why. She’s acting so strange. “…could you remind me how you tried to show me?”
Oh, but maybe she’s just feeling shy? Maybe this is just her way of asking for another kiss. She’s a girl, after all, and girls can’t be forward about that kind of thing. He relaxes a little more.
“Sure,” he says, smiling, and walks up to her, and takes her hand.
Something creaks down the hallway. He glances back to look; the door to the boy’s restroom is opening. Not his problem, then, he thinks, until a long swath of familiar white hair passes through it and stops at the sight of him.
“Why’d you use that one?” he asks, bewildered. “Are the girl’s toilets not working or something?”
Karua keeps facing him. Her nose twitches slightly. She opens her mouth, and then closes it, and then opens it again and says, “██████, what’s going on?”
A tiny burst of static blocking out some of her words. The school speakers? Or is there something wrong with his ears?
“I don’t know,” Karua says, her eyebrows pressed together, her hand tense in his. “He said he saw her in his room--it was your shift, wasn’t it?”
“…yes,” Karua says, quietly.
“Did he do something?”
Karua’s fingers dig into her arms. She doesn’t say anything.
Karua swallows. “Okay,” she says. “I think maybe it’s time. If it’s…getting like that.”
“Time for what?” he asks. He really doesn’t know what she’s talking about.
Karua looks back at him. The smile she gives him is strangely sad. “Why don’t you follow me, Takkun? There’s somewhere I want to go with you.”
Takumi smiles back. “Of course.” He’d go anywhere with her, anywhere she asked, anywhere she needed to be.
“I’ll talk to Sirei,” Karua says quietly. “If he’ll listen to me.”
Karua’s hand squeezes his. “It’s just this way, Takkun. Let’s go.”
He follows her down the hall.
She leads him to a familiar set of doors. “Right in here, Takkun.”
His eyebrows crease. “What do you want in the Infirmary?”
She raises a finger to her lips. “It’s a secret. I’ll tell you soon.”
Once they’re inside, she says, “I need you to close your eyes for a minute, okay? Just stand here for me and wait. Can you do that for me, Takkun?”
“All right,” he says, still confused. But it’s Karua; he trusts her more than anyone in the world. He closes his eyes.
She squeezes his hand one more time, and then she lets go.
He hears her footsteps leaving the room. He waits, for a minute, maybe a little more than a minute. How long is this going to take? Maybe she needs help with whatever she’s doing. He’s about to open his eyes again when he hears footsteps return.
Takumi smiles. “Where did you--”
A brief prick on his neck, a thin sharp slide penetrating through skin and tissue.
Everything goes black.
He’s still in the Infirmary when his eyes open again.
But he’s sitting, not standing, and it takes him only a moment to realize he’s in a chair. In a chair with his limbs restrained. There’s something on his head--
A little ways away stands Karua.
He wants to feel relief from seeing her again, but fear keeps trickling in. What’s going on? Why is he tied down, and why is she standing next to Sirei?
“You should have come to me with this earlier,” Sirei says gravely. “This could have seriously hindered the war effort.”
“We knew what your solution would be,” Karua says. “We thought--maybe that was too much. Maybe he could get better without that.”
She swallows. “But there’s no time, is there? With Dahl’xia on the way and V’ehxness after that. And he’s getting worse.”
“There would have been more time if you’d come to me earlier,” Sirei says, tapping his cane on the ground.
“Well, we came to you now,” Karua snaps. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, breathes it back out. “Please don’t hurt him,” she says quietly.
“I’m afraid the process involves considerable pain, especially if it’s as in depth as this requires.”
“Karua, what’s going on?” Takumi asks, bewildered.
She looks at him. Sorrow pinches her beautiful face.
“I promise you’ll feel better soon,” she says. “Just hold on for me. You can do that, right, Takkun? For me?”
“Of course I can,” he says, though he doesn’t even know what he’s agreeing to.
Karua rests her hand on a console.
“Thank you, Takkun,” she says, her voice soft and sad. “I’m sure she--I loved you very much.”
She presses a button.
Some time passes.
Takumi doesn’t know how much. Whenever he tries to think about something, it slips out of his fingers in a haze. It feels like his thoughts are being carved off of him, like bits of him are being plucked out. After a while it stops feeling like that, and he has enough of himself left to wonder if that’s because the ability to feel it has been plucked out too, and then that feeling is gone too.
It all hurts, of course. It hurts so much worse than dying does. It hurts more than being skewered by a massive weapon or torn apart by giant claws or beaten into the dirt by blunt, massive limbs.
It doesn’t hurt as much as finding out that
It doesn’t hurt as much as finding out
It doesn’t hurt as much as finding
It doesn’t hurt as much as
It doesn’t hurt as much
It doesn’t hurt as
It hurts.
His throat hurts, too, after a while. Burns like it’s been stretched to its breaking point. Overuse. He can’t hear it, though, so he’s not sure exactly what he was saying. Probably there weren’t any words involved anyway.
After a while it doesn’t hurt anymore. It doesn’t feel like anything anymore. He doesn’t feel like anything anymore. Consciousness exists only as a vague awareness of the concept of existence.
Then it hurts again. For longer this time.
Eventually, he opens his eyes.
It doesn’t hurt, and he doesn’t feel like nothing. Except tired. He feels very tired.
Two people are there: one small and white and round, and one--
Her face is pale, her eyes marked by dark circles. “Takumi?” she asks.
Takumi.
That’s his name.
And her name is…
“Nozomi?” he rasps.
She bursts into tears.
---
They’ve already fought Dahl’xia again, apparently.
Defeated, too. Nozomi and Yugamu’s plan worked. She tells him, after she more or less composes herself, that she had to take breaks to work on it, that she couldn’t be with him all the time. Sirei says he had to force her to sleep, too.
“I didn’t want you to go through that alone,” she says. Her hand is so warm. He’s back in bed now, and she’s sitting next to it. “It was my fault you were…” She swallows. “If I’d never spoken to you in Kamakura Hospital, you wouldn’t have…”
Takumi’s eyebrows crease. “Kamakura Hospital?”
She stares at him.
---
Sirei tells him he was sick, and curing him involved taking some things out of him. Their absence won’t hurt him, he explains. He’ll be stable now, healthy, more or less content.
There aren’t a lot of days left. Sirei tells him that once the war is over, maybe they can think about putting the things back, but they might decide it’s a bad idea after all and just leave him as he is now. Takumi doesn’t have any opinions on that. If it’s good for him, they’ll do it, and if it’s not, they won’t, and either way he’ll be fine, so it doesn’t matter.
There really aren’t a lot of days left.
Takumi spends them drifting.
Room to room, thought to thought. He still has thoughts, but they’re not very complicated. One time Shouma talks to him, and then leaves, looking upset. Takumi doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know a lot of things.
He doesn’t know why Eito won’t talk to him.
Nozomi does. She speaks to him often, asks how he’s doing, if there’s anything he needs or wants. The things he needs, he can get on his own, and there isn’t anything he wants. She doesn’t seem happy to hear that. But Eito never talks to him. Eito always leaves the room whenever he enters.
He asks Nozomi about it once. He doesn’t know why he does; it’s just a momentary thing, a little blip that he probably wouldn’t have even had if he was by himself and didn’t have anyone already there to ask.
She looks very sad. “Eito won’t tell me why. I think…well, I don’t know for sure, so I shouldn’t say. But beyond that, I think he doesn’t like seeing you the way you are now.”
Oh. But the way he is now is fine, right? Healthy. Stable.
“…of course it is.”
---
The final battle comes.
They win it. But also they don’t. Everyone is upset about it. He probably should be too. But it just doesn’t really matter to him much. What was up there for him to care about?
---
Nozomi destroys Sirei.
It seems like that’s what everyone wanted to do, so it’s fine.
---
It’s hot in the Defense Room.
Hiruko tells him he should be the one to do it--she seems so certain that it’s his act to do. So he does.
A long string of final words, some almost happy, most not. The last one collapses against the remains of the final missile, black glasses cracked and bent.
“I didn’t hate it,” Eito mumbles, blood trickling from his lips. “That’s the worst of it, I think. If I had, then…maybe I wouldn’t…”
He doesn’t say anything else.
Takumi does what he’s supposed to do.
---
It’s not hot outside, but it still feels like he’s burning. All that’s left of Shion. All that’s left of his friends. Burning inside him, filling every inch of him with more than a body is supposed to hold.
It burns away--
Some things.
Nozomi won’t stop crying.
It’s nice in her arms, though. It’s nicer than anything’s been in a while. He reaches out his hand, touches it to her face. She’s so beautiful, so warm. He wishes she would smile again.
She takes his hand in hers. “I’m sorry,” she sobs. “I won’t let any of this be in vain. You all gave so much--I’ll make sure it means something.”
Tears fall on his face. They’re warm, too. “And I took something from you. I don’t know if it was right for me to take it. But you can have it back now, if you want. If that--if that makes it easier, for you.”
She wipes her face, dries as many tears as she can, takes a deep breath. Smiles.
“Goodbye, Takkun,” she says, her voice wobbling. “I’ll see you at home.”
A vision of long, loose hair and a bright smile.
He squeezes her hand, just barely, with the last of what he has left.
“Bye,” he mumbles. “I’ll see you there, Karua.”
Everything quietly fades.
The world, the war, the girl, him, everything. All of it disappears.
But the memory of the smile lingers forever.