Last Remnants

The sun shows itself over the peaks of the mountains. A new day pulls itself from the last. Takei makes her way to school, seeing the passing students. She hears the whispers and murmurs. They all speak of the news last night. It is all people talk about these days. The news became a footnote in everyone’s minds.

“Do you really think they’re going to go through with it?” one of the female students asks.

“Hell no, how would they even accomplish that?” says another male student.

“I don’t think it’s out of the realm of possibilities. Have you seen what they’re capable of?” returns the third.

“What do you mean that massacre at that military base?” The girl shivers in almost instant fear.

“Yeah, 128 people died. Surely, that shows how serious they are,” says the boy.

“Tragic, yeah, but c’mon, you think that was one person? Nah, definitely a militia they have or something for sure,” the third protests.

The thought pops into Takei’s head. It definitely couldn’t be one person. No one would be capable of taking the lives of so many in such a short amount of time. In less than ten minutes, all those lives were lost, and a secret was taken from the base. It’s classified, the news reported, but the public can’t help but wonder what it could have been.

She reaches her class and sits down at her desk. An immediate sensation, a warm, tender hug from behind, and a soft cheek pressed against her shoulder. The girl named Shinohara Keiko holds her. Her petite body presses, making her feel the welcome of the week. The affectionate, eccentric jokester of a girl never fails to share her love with the world, physical, mental, or emotional.

“Morning, Keiko.” She laughs.

She and Takei have been close since they were nine years old. They met at school in the cafeteria. She offered a piece of melon bread in exchange for a stick of Pocky. Takei is thankful to have her remain by her side as they soon venture into early adulthood.

“Takei, Takei! Guess what day it almost is. You should know the most out of anyone, right?” She smiles, her eyes lit up as if fireworks, ready to set the soon-to-be celebration.

“You’re going to join the adult club soon. You’ve been a slowpoke at it, but it’s almost here. I already have your favorite pink balloons.” The excitable girl sits on the edge of her desk, a smile lighting any room.

“Keiko, calm down, it’s too early for this.” The boy with an unkempt class outfit lays his head on the desk. His hands straddle against the brink of the wood, gripping it with a tight grasp. Okazaki Ryota is the hard-headed, strong, bad boy in the group.

“Oh, come on. Okazaki. No need to make her feel so bad for being herself,” says the boy named Ishimoto Yoshihiro. His hair, uniform, and demeanor are all more classed up and fit for a presentable appearance.

“Shut up, egghead, and why are you eating chips at eight in the morning? Wait for lunch,” he snaps.

“Leave me be, I didn’t have dinner last night.” Ishimoto, notable for his large size, eats chips he kept on his desk, doing his best to hide them from his teacher. It is easy to notice him being twice or three times the size of any other student in the classroom; his presence is felt anywhere he goes.

“Yeah, right, you haven’t missed a meal since we were six years old. You expect me to believe you’d allow that?”

He lets out a soft sigh. “Some people have important things to attend to, too, so I’m eating now,” he states.

Class begins, and the lingering boredom rushes over the group. They all think in their own ways of how to get out of class, although Takei’s mind is occupied. Occupied with the thought of her upcoming birthday. It’ll be the day she becomes an adult, the last of her friend group to reach the threshold. Leaning on her hand, her fingers tap away at her cheek as she stares at the birds chirping outside of the classroom window. They spin around in a hypotonic way, and she can’t help but gaze. It seems unusual for birds to stay put in a way, and she wonders if perhaps it has something to do with all these stranger sightings. The world feels on the edge of madness, and she’s here prepping for a future she and her friends are not sure is a conclusive fact.

“Godddd, I wish this class would end already. He always drags with his lessons. Can’t he give us a rest?”

“Well, you know Mr. Atsushi, Keiko. Always wanting to make sure it’s properly planted into our heads. It’s boring, sure, but we can all pick up something from it, can’t we?” Ishimoto responds.

“When are we going to use these mathematical terms in our daily lives anyway? Let me tell you, madam, our stock of square frustums is fresh out. Come back in two to three business days.” She lets out a small chuckle, her hand covering her snickering.

“The hell is a frustum?” asks Okazaki.

“No idea, I don’t pay attention,” she answers.

“When you say it like that, yeah, maybe we should all just drop out. School’s a hell of a waste of time, but we can make better of it. Like, building bikes or going down the hills.”

“You two shouldn’t be like that. Have some ambition,” Ishimoto says, disappointed.

“Over what, egghead? The world could end tomorrow. What are we preparing for?”

“Yeah, Ishi, wearing a cap and gown underground after the world ends doesn’t sound as appealing. Sounds kind of stupid, really stupid,” Keiko says.

“You guys don’t think that’ll happen, do you?” Takei pauses, her face spreading with worry. She can’t help but imagine how possible it truly is for the world to end in an instant and nobody being able to do anything about it. It’s been a heavy prediction this group is trying to gain access to the nuclear arsenal of the country or others. A fear everybody has been trying to prevent from becoming a harsh reality.

“Someone will stop them, or maybe their predictions could be wrong.” Ishimoto puts it to rest.

“Come on, Takei, Mr. Nuke Happy? I don’t think he’s serving up sodas to everyone. Though a soda named after a nuke? That sounds kind of tasty. Mmm, radioactive soda. I could really, really go for one right now.” A swoon of her head, and she shifts over closer to Ishimoto, a smile growing on her face. “Hey, you have to have one hidden somewhere in your desk, right? Come on, gimme, and I’ll pay you back later.” She taps her fingers on his desk, hope in her eyes.

“Fresh out, Keiko. Otherwise, I’d give you one. I drank the last one yesterday.”

“Oh, come on, you didn’t even think about me at all! Now I’m a disappointed girl in a boring class. What a stormy day,” she says, turning forward.

“I’ll get you one later at the vending machine. I got 500 yen at least.”

“Oh really!? You’d do that for me? Aren’t you a sweetheart!? You darling boy!” She jumps in her chair.

“Of course he has a sweet heart, Keiko. It’s all covered in sugar and caffeine,” Okazaki jokes while laughing loud enough to catch the attention of the teacher.

“Okazaki!” The teacher notices the laugh instantly, giving him a heated look that could burn through a lampshade.

“If you don’t hush your delinquent mouth, I’ll give you three weeks of detention, got it?”

The face of anger on him is enough to stab anybody in the heart. Okazaki just scoffs, feeling annoyed by the intrusion of his laughter, before deciding to stay quiet.

He turns away, and Ishimoto says, “Justice is best served sweet.”

“The hell does that mean, candy bucket?” Ponders Okazaki. Ishimoto isn’t the best at comebacks.

#

The day meanders. The marching of time doesn’t hesitate. The march of a soldier felt confined to his home, friendly territory, yet a minefield that can be set off. He may be a paperboy at his age, keeping files for his military superiors, fifty-two years old, but Takei’s father isn’t a slouch, only in the times when he had seven sakes back to back. The file in front of him reads “the sightings of Kitaibaraki,” a top-secret file given clearance to the higher-ups. He is hesitant to open the file, his hand lingering over it as if he were a toddler grabbing a wooden block. The sweat drips down from the side of his face and onto the paper. “Damn!” he says.

“I can’t give it to the bosses with my sweat all over it.” He closes his eyes, the image of his wife ingrained deeply in his mind. His wife is beautiful, a woman with porcelain skin that is softer than that of a silken cloth; her kisses were like the kisses of a divine. His heart slows, and he remembers the touch of her lips against his. A warm, gentle kiss planted on his lips and her sweet smile every time as to say all will be all right. Her eyes open, and the unique feature of her most beautiful world is revealed. The starry-gray eyes. He can feel his sweat stop now.

He opens the file to read it with the warmth of her memory hugging onto his brain. The file read of strange sightings and patterns beheld more on the brink of this event. Some call it the event of the Cult of Remnants. The government calls it something different. The Armageddon onset. This was never revealed to the public as it would cause mass hysteria, but the government believed this to be a true threat, and other countries joined in on the fear despite the world being at war with one another. Once simple fearmongering was becoming more of a reality as these sightings spread to the whole world now.

‘The signs of the Remnants’ sightings of numerous displaced children were calling out to what they called “the void.” In some cases, an act of defiance against partial figures or an internet trend appears to be absent.

“This is bad. What will happen if Takei?” He stops himself. “No. Takei is a smart girl. She won’t fall for their ignorant ways.”

#

“Come, come, one and all, we shall fall and be enthralled. Come, come, one and all, become like us and fall, fall, fall.” The girl who skipped class, also being in the friend group of Takei, sings in a mocking tone down the hallway. She spots her and tilts her head, a curiosity filling her. “Usagi?” The girl drenched in black from a western-inspired gothic dress shoots her a sudden look. She opens her mouth, revealing her four sharpened vampire-like teeth and glistening sunny smile.

“Yo, Takei and gang, what’s up? Finish your classes for the day?”

“You skippin’ class again? Should have told me, today was pure boredom,” Okazaki says.

“Oh, for real, we could’ve gotten into all sorts of trouble, none of that dragging class nonsense.”

“Usagi?” The timid voice of Takei sounds.

“What was that song you were singing? I’ve never heard it before?”

“You mean the chant of the void? Yeah, it’s all the rage right now, and all the kids are doing it. Haven’t you seen the trend?” A rush of confusion plants itself firmly in her brain. Takei isn’t one to keep up with trends or spend much time on her phone. She’s more of an outdoorsy type. The crickets and shanties of nights sung by the wind and trees. It makes her think of summer for a moment, and it’s a quick approach before she answers back.

“No, what is it?”

She smiles, wiggling her finger in front of her face. The sudden seriousness of her face sets in, a fiery look in her eyes. Seeing behind her eyes, you can’t see anything but the utmost confidence and a wealth of knowledge on the topic. The racking of her brain isn’t one suited for conformity and passing classes, but a worldly perspective is set to her beat and rhythm.

“All right, so you've been hearing about this, Mr. Nuke Happy and his underlings? Well, apparently, some wackos have been taking this all seriously and started to form what they call an ascension group. They’re all crazy, thinking of those guys as gods, and they, too, can obtain those powers. That’s one of their songs or chants to call forth the Remnants. Personally, I think they’re all idiots. It’s why I sang it mockingly.”

“Oh, yeah, think I heard about that. They pass out pamphlets sometimes like it’s a damn event, got one myself don’t believe it for a second.” Okazaki brushes the lounging raven hair going down the bridge of his nose. If his dark brown eyes could speak, they would be screaming ‘what a load of bull.’

“You’re telling me? There’s nothing good about them, none of you believe that for anything, got it?” She grips a mail carrier envelope, Keiko took notice letting her soft light brown hair flow to the side with a head tilt.

“Do you have a secret crush? I see that envelope, putting it in some lucky boy’s locker?” Keiko teases.

“No, nothing like that, just something I got to do.” She starts walking away.

“Where are you going? Aren’t you going to join us for music class at least, Usagi?” Ishimoto leans to the wall, resting himself against it, holding tight to the binder of his book. He grows weary easy, his size a factor, it distracts most from his other features, though his friends always noticed his light brown eyes. Keiko loved saying he had hairy eyes, her hair being similar in color.

“Eh, I’ll see. Got something to do first, so I’ll catch y’all later or in music class.” She walks off, leaving the rest of the group to break up their conversation, and starts heading to their next class. Usagi peers back, the strains of her light yellow hair romping with every step. A sigh proclaims, one filled with the worry of her knowledge. Her mind races. It spins and whirls like an endless cycle. The girl, fearless, felt fear with the curse of her knowledge. The knowledge that she was about to meet with one of the Remnants.