Work Text:
When the world breathed its last contemporary breath, it died with a certain softness. There was no great war sentencing civilians and soldiers to death, nor was there some sort of plague infecting the masses. There were only the rising water levels and man's inability to adapt.
In the wake of the world as we knew it, there came life. It sprouted like weeds poking through cracks in the pavement, before spreading and overtaking the world itself. Buildings crumbled as trees grew through the walls, moss wore down unused bridges, and vines dangled from rooftops.
The few groups of humans that survived lived in mountain villages where the water couldn't reach them. They used the skills they had to build small communities and survive. Crops were grown, animals were raised, and man survived as only they could.
Mei Arataki was born in one such village, built from the ruins of a shrine on Mount Mitake. Her family consisted of cooks, gatherers, and tailors, leading Mei to not only appreciate the world's natural beauty but make goods from it to help where it was needed.
Mei personally chose to follow the path of a gatherer, spending her days wandering the wilderness surrounding the former shrine and the houses families built around it. She gathered edible herbs and mushrooms, as well as firewood and fiber - anything that her small village could use to make life better.
There were many paths through the forested wilderness, but her favorite one was about an hour's walking distance from home. An old map her family had said it used to be called the Rock Garden. It was a beautiful valley with a cute little stream and moss-covered boulders, overlooked by twin waterfalls. Though not necessarily hidden in any way, Mei had always considered it her secret base. After all, she was usually the only one to ever come here.
Still she couldn't shake the feeling something in her life was missing. She never was sure what, but she could feel it in her bones as she wandered the forest paths or read through one of the books in the collection she'd combed thrice over.
It was strange. It wasn't as though Mei wanted for anything. Her family loved and respected her. She had meaningful work to keep her busy. Her family had plenty of food. By all means, her life was perfect.
But she was sure of it. Something was missing.
And she felt it more so than ever as she stood on a mountain peak, looking over the place she'd called home all her life. Her fellow gatherer, Jun, stood by her side. They had been friends since childhood, though Jun was three years older than her. Still, they looked after each other as only they could. It was part of why the two worked so well together.
The basket on Jun's back was full of firewood, as the shrine town had begun to run out once again. It would be needed as summer faded into a colorful autumn. Mei's own basket was full of freshly grown fruit, mushrooms, and herbs. Her stomach had already started growling eagerly in anticipation of dinner.
It was then that Mei saw it on the horizon, drawing her from her hungry thoughts. Peeking out of a path of trees, there was a strange road. Trees poked up through the bars lining this road, almost obscuring it from sight.
Mei pointed. "Jun, do you see that?"
He nodded. "I do."
"What is it?"
Jun always seemed to know these things. His family was the one who owned their simple library, full of faded scrolls and books. It was Mei's only glimpse at the world before the flood. She often spent her time there when she wasn't at home or working.
And, sure enough, Jun knew exactly what it was. "It's called a railroad."
Mei opened her mouth as realization swept over her. She had heard of railroads before. They were mentioned in some of the books she read. Apparently metal vehicles called trains would travel from place to place at high speeds on those tracks. She had always wondered how they actually worked, and even now she wasn't sure.
"A railroad, huh?"
Jun wasted no more time before he returned to the path. They had more land to cover if they wanted to find more food and lumber before it grew dark.
Mei cast one last longing look towards the railroad. She wondered where it went.
.
The early autumn season meant matsutake soup was back on the menu. Her family made it every year as a way to welcome the oncoming autumn. It was a beautiful soup, clear enough to easily see all the ingredients inside. Mei always looked forward to eating her fill of it.
The matsutake mushrooms that the dish was named after were cut into thin slices, floating in the broth with tofu, parsley, and lemon zest. There was also dashi and seasoning. It warmed Mei’s mouth and throat as she downed her meal. Were she to put it in only one word, Mei would say it tasted like home.
Every evening, when the day was done, her family settled around the table loaded with various dishes. They talked about their day and enjoyed dinner, bonding over what they went through. No dish ever caught Mei's eye quite like the soup.
A wicker bowl of persimmons sat in the middle of the table, vibrant orange like the changing leaves outside. There was another plate with baked sweet potatoes with a small dish of butter on one side and salt and pepper shakers on the other. Fish caught from the Tama River had been skinned and grilled. Mei's grandmother had even prepared some chestnut manju.
She breathed in deep, taking in the smells of the season, before exhaling and taking a sip of the matsutake soup. The broth was warm, fighting against the chilling world outside.
There was no conversation that night, just a pleasant hush over the room as they enjoyed their dinner.
"So," Mei said, her voice breaking through the silence. "I saw a railroad today."
Her father nodded. He was also a gatherer, though he tended to cut trees to provide more than just firewood.
"Yes, I've seen it too." He swallowed his bite of fish and smiled.. "First time?"
She nodded. "Where does it go?"
Her father hummed softly in thought. "Where indeed," he said. He motioned to the east. "There's supposed to be a city by the sea called Tokyo. Mostly covered in water by this point. I don't think anyone lives there anymore."
Mei tried to picture the tall buildings more than half submerged in the ocean, but she couldn't imagine it. It just seemed too strange. Still, she was sure of one thing. She wanted to see it for herself.
"I want to go to Tokyo," she said.
Her family just laughed. They didn't think she was serious. But she was.
.
Mei didn't talk about the railroad after that, nor did she talk about the distant submerged city. Her parents hadn't taken her seriously. She didn't think anyone else would either. Yet the distant city never left her mind as she wandered the forest paths, letting the wind guide her. Today was as good as any to visit her secret base.
Jun didn't join her today. He was busy building a new chicken coop with Mei's father. After a few wolves had brought a swift but bloody end to some elderly birds, the town had easily decided they would stop taking eggs, just so enough time would pass to hatch new chickens to make up for their loss.
It was a loss of meat, a loss of eggs, and a loss of life. But they would rebuild. They always did.
But that loss of food meant gathering was all the more important. Mei gladly used the job as an excuse to wander the woods on her own. The birdsongs led her on, deeper and deeper. She stopped from time to time, sitting on a boulder or eating some fresh fruit she picked from a tree.
Her favorites were apples, lemons, and oranges. The lemons weren't fun to bite into like the others. They were tart and even bitter at times, but they were easy to mix with sugar and turn into a delicious drink. Lemonade was something Mei could never take for granted.
As she passed some trees, she plucked low-hanging fruit, checking them for blemishes or brown spots, then gently put them in her basket. It was already half full, and her back would end up aching if she filled the entire basket before she reached the Rock Garden.
She hummed to herself in tune and time with the birds. They eventually caught on to the song she hummed and sang along. It was a symphony of man and songbird.
It wouldn't be long before they flew south for winter. Where did they go? Mei wasn't sure. No doubt past the south of the island, but then where? She had asked everyone, and they just shrugged. She hoped one day she'd know.
"Mrrow?"
The small chirp pulled her from her thoughts. That wasn't the sound of any bird she knew. In fact, it came from near her feet.
A small head poked out of the underbrush and looked at her with large, golden eyes. They blinked, and Mei blinked back. Again, the animal opened her mouth and let out an inquisitive chirp.
"Mrr?"
It was a cat, small and thin, her tricolor fur marking the feline as a calico. Occasionally wild cats wandered through town, but the townsfolk only had a handful of domesticated ones. Unlike the reckless felines that tore through town, trying to take a chicken with them when they fled, the calico before Mei seemed well behaved.
She knelt down to give the cat scratches under her fluffy chin. The calico purred loudly and nuzzled into her hand.
"Are you from around here?" Mei asked.
The cat blinked its golden eyes slowly, purring away. Of course she couldn't answer.
"You're really friendly. Did you get lost?"
She stood and looked around for the cat's owner, but there was no one there. The lanky feline happily trotted after her even when Mei decided to keep moving. When the cat finally grew too tired to follow along any longer, she plopped down on her side and meowed loudly.
Mei thought nothing of it and kept walking. The cat stood, trotted closer, then flopped down again.
She chuckled. "Do you really not have anywhere else to be?"
"Mrrow!" the cat said almost cheerfully.
Apparently the little one wanted to come with her. She supposed as long as the cat was well behaved, it would be alright. Perhaps she could even stop the growing mouse problem Mei's town had every autumn and winter.
"Alright, let's go."
She thought about putting the cat in with the fruit and mushrooms, then changed her mind. Cats had claws, and one wrong move would pierce and ruin the fruit. Mei opted to carry the cat in her arms.
When she finally reached the Rock Garden, her new friend was purring happily in her arms. She wondered if perhaps the cat wasn't just purring but its stomach was growling loudly too. She couldn't be sure, but she settled on a mossy boulder, placing the cat down by her side.
She pulled an apple out from her basket, peeling it before cutting it into small chunks. The cat's ear twitched as she looked over, watching her intently.
"So you are hungry."
Mei placed an apple chunk before the calico, who munched and crunched on it happily. She bit off a small piece for herself and chewed it thoughtfully.
What was she going to do with the cat? She'd tried to leave so it could find its way home, but the cat hadn't. Instead, she'd followed Mei until her little paws ached too much to go forward. It was like she wanted to go with Mei.
Mei had honestly grown fond of the cat too.
"What am I going to call you?" she asked the cat.
She scratched under her chin, but there was no collar to give suggestions. Mei remembered a story about a train she'd once read that was run by a cat. She never really understood how that worked or what the cat's real role was. But she did remember the name of the cat in the story. It was the same as a nearby river.
"How about Tama?"
Tama chirped happily, seemingly pleased by her new name.
Tama joined Mei on the trip home, perhaps as pleased to have an owner as Mei was to have a new friend.
Mei knew Tama couldn't understand her, but she couldn't shake the feeling that Tama listened to her all the same. Mei ended up telling her everything. She told her about Mitake Mountain and the shrine village she lived in, the railroad she'd seen through a clearing in the trees, and her curiosity about the flooded city
From time to time, Tama would meow or chirp as if putting her input into the story. Finally, someone was hearing her. It made Mei happy.
When she finally reached her village, she unloaded her basket evenly between all the houses before returning to her own. Tama happily trotted along beside her, though she would stop from time to time to look at something - a bird flying by or children playing - and Mei would stop and wait with her, until Tama let out a chirp and continued on, as if she already knew where her home was.
Mei held the door open, smiling as the cat headed inside first. It was only then she realized she had no idea what her parents would think of Tama. They had never had a cat, or any pet at all. It would be different, but she thought it would bring life to their quiet house.
Her mother and grandmother glanced over at her from the table they were cutting food on.
"Welcome home."
"How was your trip?"
They glanced back over at their task for no longer than a few moments, before realizing Mei wasn't alone.
Her mother raised a brow. "And who is this?" She wasn't angry, at least not as far as Mei could tell. She simply seemed curious.
"Her name's Tama. She followed me home."
Her mother and grandmother just nodded and turned back to the conversation they were having. Tama wandered over to Mei's grandmother before curling up at her side. If the woman hadn't been cutting mushrooms, Mei was sure her grandmother would have run her fingers through Tama's fur.
Welcome home, Tama, Mei thought before going about her evening chores.
.
When Mei and Jun next went out to gather food, Tama went with them. The calico followed Mei everywhere, even going so far as to sleep by her side every night. Luckily, the cat had enough common sense to slip out a cracked window when she needed to do her business. Mei was grateful for her company.
Jun wasn't so sure about the cat.
"Are you sure it doesn't have a home?" He raised his gaze from the kindling he was gathering.
"I'm sure. She wanted to come with me," Mei replied, picking the nut shells off the trees and tossing them into her basket.
Tama sniffed at the ground, before looking back at Mei. She chirped, and Mei knelt down to scratch under her chin. As always, Tama purred loud and long.
"I just think it's weird there was a cat all by itself, in the middle of the forest."
"Some wild cats like living out here," Mei reminded him.
She watched as Jun's shoulders rose and fell in a lazy shrug. He didn't say anything. She wondered if he just didn't like cats, and what she could do to change that. Maybe there was nothing she could do, and it was just something she'd have to accept.
Mei picked a walnut shell of a tree and cracked it open with her knife. She picked the nut pieces out, plopping them into her mouth one at a time as she savored the slightly salty flavor. Her stomach growled for more, and she was about to pick another shell off the tree when she heard Tama meow not once or twice, but repeatedly.
Mei tossed the shell into her basket, before going to see what Tama was fussing over. She passed through the forested areas, twigs scratching at her arms and legs, until she finally found what her cat wanted her to see.
It was a railroad, though it was hard to make out the individual bars with how much moss had grown over them. Thin trees poked up from between the bars, growing as only nature could. The railroad in itself would have been impressive, but there was something on its tracks. It must have been what the books called a train.
Mei walked around the large metal box, fingers dusting over its lightly moss-covered sides. She wondered if there was a way to get inside. Just as the thought crossed her mind, her fingers stopped on what must have been a door. She wondered if she could pry it open.
"What do you think?" Mei asked, glancing down at Tama.
The cat just licked its paws, not seeming to care much either way.
Mei's fingers felt for any sort of handle, and eventually found a small indention with a bar that must have been a handle at some point. She pulled on it, but it didn't budge, only giving a loud, weary creak. She pulled on it again, putting more weight into it this time.
"Come on, come on," she muttered under her breath, as if the encouragement would actually force the door to open.
But it did. Slowly but surely, groaning like the dead, the door opened to reveal the inside of the train.
She was about to climb up its rusted steps after Tama when she heard Jun call out to her from a distance. "Mei? Where'd you go?"
He must have been so focused on his job that he hadn't seen her follow Tama here. He always did get absorbed into his work, or maybe it was his thoughts instead. Even though Mei had known him for years, she still wasn't sure.
"Over here, Jun!" she called back.
She heard him faintly mutter something under his breath, though she couldn't quite make it out. Then came the sound of crunching leaves under Jun's boots as he stumbled through the forest after her.
He exhaled an exasperated sigh as he saw her, ready to climb into the train. "Really?" was the only question he was able to muster.
"Really what?" Mei asked. She knew exactly what, but chose to play innocent.
"You are not going to climb into that train," he said, folding his arms over his chest. He always seemed to think the three years he had over her made him the unspoken leader, though Mei had never seen it that way. She certainly didn't agree to it.
"I am," Mei said. "And I will."
Jun just sighed softly, following her into the train.
It was mostly cleared out by this point, the people riding on it having given up the train ride altogether, perhaps to settle in the mountains. Maybe they were even Mei and Jun's ancestors.
A few bags lay forgotten on the seats and in the overhead shelves. A fine layer of dust covered them, leading Mei to wonder just how long they'd been there. Trains hadn't been running for a few lifetimes, so it must have been older than even her grandmother was. But how old was it?
She unzipped one of the bags just in time for Jun to cry out in frustration. "You can't just open that!" he insisted.
She glanced at him over her shoulder. "Why can't I?"
"Those belong to someone-"
"Who is long dead," she reminded him lazily.
There was no reason for her not to look through the bags. Their owners were long gone, so there was no way they'd care. Tama was happily curled up on the train seat next to Mei, so she certainly didn't care. The only one who cared was Jun, and he usually cared too much about too many things so Mei didn't really care about his opinion at that moment.
Mei took out books and flipped through their old pages. There were clothes that remained folded for a good many years. Moth balls clung to the fabric near holes the moths must have eaten through ages ago. She wondered how the bugs got out, then decided it didn't really matter. There were even journals that faintly had a year long since passed on them.
"2025," Mei mused aloud. "How long has it been since then?"
Jun shook his head. "We stopped counting."
"Ah."
Mei flipped through the pages, skimming over the words. They were written in a panic and detailed events only passed down in story - the flood washing away lives, the rising water levels overtaking cities, and the fear of leaving one's home to move somewhere else.
In the end, there was a small entry, barely finished. The author must have left them for whoever found the book next. It talked about the world the author knew, the world they had to leave behind.
The final words read as follows: "Send my regards to Shibuya, where I saw Rinko washed away. We spent so many days there in those crowded streets. No one will remember them anymore. No one will go there anymore. Send my regards to Shibuya, and tell it I said goodbye."
Mei couldn't help but wonder what Shibuya was and, more importantly, where it was. She wondered what it meant to the author, and how seeing their friend washed away in the flood must have felt.
She couldn't imagine it, but she felt a spark in her chest all the same. She wanted to leave Mount Mitake. She wanted to go to Shibuya.
As if sensing her hidden feelings, Jun assured her, "It's safer here. You shouldn't go."
"I want to though," was all Mei could say.
.
Dinner was full of autumn's bounty yet again. It brought a small smile to Mei's face. It was nice to have one last peaceful meal before she left.
She didn't know how far Shibuya was, nor did she know if she would return. She wanted to, for sure. She wanted to tell her family all about the wondrous world Mei was sure was waiting for her beyond Mount Mitake. But fate may have had other plans for her. Mei didn't know if she would ever be able to come back.
As the meal settled and Mei sipped the last of her matsutake broth, she decided to tell her family the truth. Tama was curled up in her lap, happy to have been fed grilled fish for dinner. It was that comfort that kept Mei pressing on.
"I'm going down the mountain tomorrow," Mei said.
Her family lifted their heads, clearly puzzled.
"Okay," her mother said hesitantly. "When will you be coming back?"
Mei shook her head. "I don't know. I'm going to find out where Tokyo is, and see a place called Shibuya."
Her parents exchanged a worried glance.
"Is there any way I can convince you not to go?" her father asked.
Mei shook her head. "No, I've made up my mind. Tama and I are going to see what is left of the world. Who knows? Maybe the cities are livable again."
She didn't know if that was true. She doubted it honestly. But there was something comforting in the thought of a world welcoming her arrival. She only hoped the truth was as kind.
"I'm leaving tomorrow morning. I'll write letters if I can, if I can find someone to bring them to you. So I can keep in touch, you know?"
"Just be safe."
Her family echoed those sentiments. She could feel their sorrow weighing her down, but she wouldn't let it stop her. Mei had made up her mind. The truth was as clear as the broth she sipped.
.
Mei woke early the next morning. She had packed a bag with everything she thought she might need in it. It was a little heavier than her gatherer's basket when it was half full, but Mei was used to the weight. Tama stretched out her front paws first, then her back, before hopping off the bed to follow after Tama.
Her family was waiting for her in the kitchen.
Mei's eyes were wide. "I didn't think you'd be up yet."
"Like we wouldn't say goodbye to our little girl?" Her mother smiled gently. "Come here. You deserve a hug before you go."
One by one, Mei hugged her mother, then her father, and finally her grandmother.
The old woman slipped something into Mei's hand. When she looked at her palm, she saw a good luck charm waiting for her there.
"To keep you safe," her grandmother explained. "And so you'll always know you're on our minds."
Mei felt tears sting her eyes. Only then did the reality of her situation seem to sink in. She really was leaving home. She might never come back, and she had to accept that. The finality of it all made it harder to bear.
Still, somehow, Mei managed to say her goodbyes and slip out the door, with Tama close on her heels.
Outside, she found Jun waiting for her. His fingers trailed anxiously through his messy hair, and he couldn't bear to look at her. Still, Mei knew why he was here. He wanted to say goodbye too. It was just harder for him. They'd always been together after all.
Mei decided to take the initiative, wrapping her arms around her childhood friend and squeezing him tight.
He cleared his throat, but she could hear the tears muffling his voice.
"So you're really going through with it?"
Mei nodded. "I need to see the world. Please understand."
Jun planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I can't say that I do, or that I ever will. But I support you. If you ever want to return home, I'll be here waiting for you. I promise."
Mei's lips pulled into a tight smile. "Can't I convince you to join me?"
"My place is here."
There was a hesitance in his voice, as if he couldn't truly convince himself of his own words. Perhaps it was just hard seeing her go. Mei couldn't blame him. It was hard leaving when she was here in his arms.
Maybe she'd find herself here again someday.
Finally, after Mei felt as though a pleasant eternity had passed, Jun let go of her. He gently held her hands in his a moment longer before letting them go too.
"Take care of yourself, Mei."
"I will."
"Goodbye for now."
She nodded. "Yes, for now."
Jun let her go, and Mei turned to head down the mountain. She paused for one last moment before turning around to wave at Jun. He waved back.
With that, it was time to go. Mei made her way down the worn mountain path, with Tama happily trotting along beside her.
Mei wasn't sure where she would go from here, but she hoped it was Shibuya.