Archive of Our Own

“I think we’ll find them—maybe, out here?”

“Ugh, you better be right about this! Do you know how much sand I’ll need Kyoshika to clean out of my boots later?”

“But—” Kyoshika stuttered, red in the face, “is that how our class armor works!?”

Call it extremely last minute prep, but…well, no, it was extremely last minute prep. Though Takumi made up a convenient excuse for as to why he needed the first four people he saw to come out with him to the beach for materials, in reality, he only wanted to finish making some more things with the Gift-o-Matic before the 99th day, before the last fight and before the destruction of the planet and all innocent life with it.

He felt awful, like pillaging a dying person before shooting them in the face—but some of the stuff in the machine was cool, and he wanted to bring back some celebratory gifts to surprise everyone with once they made it back to the satellite. He managed to grab Eito at the entrance hall, because of course the guy made himself available 24/7, but only Kurara and Kyoshika seemed to be awake early today, gathered in the gym waiting for Moko and Nozomi for a training session. Somehow, he persuaded them to go outside instead.

Only on one condition, though…

“Now,” Kyoshika said as she pointed a finger in the air, “we must search for the legendary tidal pools!”

“Tide pools,” Eito corrected, fixing his shades back onto the bridge of his nose. “We’ll have better odds looking for rock cliffs near the waters if we want to find some. And by we, I mean all of you, since—”

“You can’t see,” Takumi finished, unimpressed. Eito laughed.

“Why’re you so interested in boring little puddles, anyways?” Kurara said, making no effort to hide her disinterest. Not that her attitude did anything to dissuade Kyoshika’s enthusiasm.

“Lady Nozomi informed me of their mystical ability to hold pockets of life,” she said, eyes sparkling. “Her accounts intrigued me so! So much so, that I crave nothing but to catch a glimpse of them, before…

“Before…”

Kyoshika looked down, and trailed off. Though the news that they’d been the invaders drove her away from her blade for so long, upon learning the truth of their existence, she resolved once more to fight for those in the Special Defense Unit—for those she loved.

Yet that hardly stopped the doubts. “Magadori…” Takumi said, only for Kyoshika to shake her head.

“It is quite all right, Sir Sumino. I’m sworn to protect what matters most to me, just like you. If that is the sort of morally complex hero I must become, then I shall steel myself and go ever forward!”

Kurara clicked her tongue. “Still treating our lives like some manga…seriously, you never change.”

Takumi laughed—then froze, looking off into the distance. Without another word, he sprinted after a distant white clad figure; Eito had long since wandered off, leaving everyone in the dust and desperate to catch up before he got himself caught in a fight.

Once they caught up, they began to walk along the beach, keeping an eye out for any place tide pools might be able to form. The garbage coating the beach made them take constant detours, reminded them of what they contributed to and what they were about to do, but it never stopped them from continuing onwards.

Funny, that.

The four walked on in silence, wary of random events or attacks from the battle pets leading them astray. Invaders, they once thought, but despite the group’s choice to fight for humanity, the blood doomed to be on their hands by birthright, they couldn’t ignore the weight of that choice.

The weight of…

What they were.

Kurara stopped, and looked at the horizon, before she continued at the back of the group.

Kurara, and no one else. After she’d been roused out of her room—once determined to stay there until she rotted—and joined the others in the fight to protect each other, she chose to disavow her last name. It’d been on complete impulse, and of course, she planned on picking out a new family name to regain power with once they succeeded.

She’d rebuild her empire. Just—not under the banner of the Oosuzuki’s.

But for what? And why? Technically speaking, it wouldn’t be hard. Sirei promised them everything they wanted as long as they completed the mission. She’d only need ask.

Well, obviously. She wouldn’t ask.

…Well, she’d probably need some cash to get by. But only the bare minimum—from there, she’d build herself back up with her own determination. Under her new family name, she’d raise herself to power and wealth without the blood money humanity has to offer.

And as the head, she’d make it so anyone and everyone fit under her new name. No one needed to press themselves into a mold they never belonged to.

It’d be simple. A simple life—a simple goal.

And it was enough.

It was—

“Kurara?”

She flinched. Only one person called her by her first name so bluntly.

“What is it?” she said, and Eito frowned.

“Something about you seemed different. Is everything okay?”

"What, my stench? Are you gonna tell me my mask stinks? It’s nothing compared to the stink of your sweat!” Kurara pointed at Eito. “You walk around with that big, annoying coat, and it reeks! You’re a walking pigsty!”

“…” Eito smiled, and tilted his head. “It takes one to know one, doesn’t it?”

A laugh broke through their conversation—Kyoshika let out a burst of giggles which bubbled over into a fit, driving Takumi to stop and give everyone a look.

“C’mon, guys, we gotta be quieter than that,” he said, almost sounding like the leader he wanted to be. “You both smell fine. Keep an eye out, okay?”

Kurara and Eito knew better than to argue with Takumi. Kyoshika, however, didn’t, and earned a few slaps from Kurara until she quieted down and hurried along. Not that it stopped Kyoshika from rubbing her reddened cheek, giving the other girl a look as though she kicked a puppy.

“Lady Kurara, you mustn’t foist such cruelty onto me!” A long rope of snot stretched from her nose—she sniffled and it shot back up before it drooped down again. “Though I have the shell of a warrior, my heart’s that of a delicate maiden’s.”

“Delicate my ass! You’re not so delicate with your sword when you wanna be!”

“You also mustn't speak of such things when we’re in the company of our comrades!”

“We already know,” Takumi groaned, “you’ve both done this bit dozens of times.”

Eito smiled. “It’s my first time hearing it.”

“Wait, really?” Takumi said.

“Both of you be quiet!” Kurara huffed and crossed her arms. With a bout of determination and anger alike, she took off ahead of the group, putting a lot of distance between her and the others before they could blink. Not to be outdone, Kyoshika took a deep breath and ran after the smaller girl.

Takumi let out an exasperated sigh and continued at his own pace, Eito humming to fill the silence.

Up ahead, Kurara showed off her speed—she managed to keep ahead of Kyoshika despite her best efforts (it wasn’t too strange, considering they all grew from the same pods), jumping down towards the beach and impeding her by taking advantage of the litter and uneven sand.

Unfortunately, Kurara failed to take into account how it’d impact her—tripping over a small dune and slamming into a pile of garbage.

“Lady Kurara!”

Kyoshika hurried over, leaned down and took Kurara into her arms. Her mask earned a few cuts from the fall, though she clung to it when Kyoshika attempted to slide it off.

“Stop, stop! Don’t do that! You stupid, pervy, woman, let go of me!”

A hard kick to Kyoshika’s gut earned Kurara freedom, and she scrambled away, on her hands and knees as she foisted a most fearsome glare. “Just…

“Leave me alone.”

Kurara curled into the fetal position, massive tomato head struggling to stay rooted on her knees. Kyoshika laid in the sand, and though this wasn’t the first time she’d been at a loss with Kurara, something felt different.

A furnace of emotions burned inside her. Embers of frustration, helplessness—Kyoshika leaned forward and planted a hand on Kurara’s head.

Kurara tensed.

But she stayed.

She stayed, at least.

Kyoshika screwed her eyes shut. She remembered one of their very first battles, where she, Tsubasa, Moko and Takumi had been the last ones standing after a brutal attack from V’exhness. Sirei spelled it out—

He had a bomb to take her out. But one of them needed to die to detonate it. Kyoshika begged, pleaded Takumi to send her out.

But Moko made her position clear, punching Kyoshika unconscious with the hope that she’d help Kurara and Nozomi make up. It hadn’t been the only time they’d been forced to choose between who lives and who dies: when Ima and Kurara had been taken by V’exhness, Takumi too, had to make a split second choice to save one of them.

Kyoshika felt like such a failure after that fight. Before he’d given the order, she’d ran for the one she needed to protect.

Kako hadn’t ever quite recovered. She got better. But some wounds don’t ever heal.

They fester.

And they remind.

Kyoshika had been a failure of a warrior. Failing her friends, failing to not be selfish, and failing to do anything good for the world. When they’d discovered the sham of their existence, the core of their battle against the ‘invaders’, Kyoshika refused to fight.

Even when the others kept going, she stayed away. Kurara called her a coward—a complete mess, and she’d been more than right. How funny it’d been, when the only thing to bring her blade to the enemies once more had been to find out everything, even their love had been a lie from the start.

Kyoshika didn’t mind, honestly.

Even if her grandpa had been real, he passed long ago. She could come to terms with the fabricated nature of his life, having nothing else. An empty, lonely life watching others live—yearning.

How selfish. She found everything she ever wanted in this school. But Kurara built her entire purpose upon her name, her family, her identity. A fabrication from the start.

A fabrication to the end.

Even with no family to punish her for her weakness, Kurara refused to let anyone see it. Kyoshika wanted so badly to, despite everything. Despite how it might hurt her friend, she wanted Kurara to know—she wanted…

Kyoshika huffed, and pushed Kurara into the sand. She yelped and struggled, but Kyoshika pressed down on her.

“What do you think you’re doing!?” Kurara snapped. “If you get a bunch of itchy sand in my mask, I’m gonna take some and shove it down your clothes!”

“Please, no, anything but that!” Not that it made Kyoshika stop. Kurara flailed and grasped handfuls of sand, throwing it at her.

A puff landed in her eyes—she cried and released Kurara. Though she scrambled away upon earning her freedom, seeing a red-eyed Kyoshika clawing to get the particles of her eyes had her inching close again.

“Hey…” Kurara pursed her lips together. “Hey!”

“Hey!”

Kyoshika sniffled. Kurara sighed, pushed Kyoshika’s hands out of the way, and held something to her pained eyes, dabbing away at sand and tears alike.

Kurara scrunched her nose up. “It got everywhere—you have so many eye boogers. Don’t you ever do the bare minimum of taking care of yourself? Go to sleep early instead of reading manga all night and yelling about your favorite characters dying.

“…Idiot…”

Her lip quivered.

“…I’m sorry.”

Kyoshika gasped. “Did you…?”

“I—I didn’t say anything! Forget about it!”

They stayed in silence for a while. As Kyoshika regained her vision, she focused on something beyond the flustered, silent Kurara.

The waves. The white foam stretching out the tips of each crashing fold before they merged with a loud smash into the chaotic rifting waters beneath. The currents brought so much back from the sea, but if one focused, they could follow the way the ocean dragged and stole everything the shores lost sight of, if one let their guard down.

Take and give—give and take. If Kyoshika had anything to offer…

“…Once we return,” Kyoshika began, and Kurara stopped, “to this planet, after finishing our duties, I’m going to offer my sword to the ocean. My sword, my infuser.”

“…Oh.”

Kurara stared.

She looked down at her handkerchief—plain white, with her last name embroidered in the corner. Kyoshika recalled Kurara yelled at her for dirtying it after Kurara dropped it and Kyoshika stepped on it, leaving a big sneaker print over the pristine cloth.

It’d been a gift from her mother, she said, on her thirteenth birthday. A symbol of her growing into a proper woman of the Oosuzuki family.

Whatever that meant.

“…Then…”

Kurara dropped the handkerchief, letting the sand dirty it however nature pleased. With slow, shaking hands, she reached up,

lifted her mask off,

and tossed it.

With her big, grand throw, it flew towards the ocean, catching a current which casted the thing off into the ocean. Give, and take.

“Lady Kurara—” Kyoshika sputtered, then spat out the first thought that came to mind, “I believe you’ve just engaged in the forbidden act of littering.”

Kurara gasped and smacked Kyoshika. “That’s all you have to say!? There’s already ten thousand pounds of garbage here anyways, you included!”

“Even after everything we’ve been through, you still speak to me in this manner!?”

“Ugh…” Kurara pulled her knees close, trying and failing to hide her face behind them. “Can’t you see? I’m—I’m done hiding. I’m done with…putting on some stupid mask to make myself be someone my fake memories want me to be.

“I want to be…genuine. Not an Oosuzuki, but Kurara. If I’m going to rebuild my power in the new world, I need to drop the sick, stupid joke those dumb scientists put on me. Ew, I bet one of those weirdos has a thing for girls in food costumes.”

Kurara winced. Even now, she struggled to be sincere without some kind of defense tacked on, a diversion, an escape.

Still, Kyoshika smiled. Still she leaned forward, pushing Kurara’s knees down so the other girl had to look at her with everything she had.

Kurara flinched.

Years of forcing herself hadn’t changed her completely, but when she got to choose when she dropped the mask, confidence came easier.

Confidence. Yes—she didn’t need the cruelty. But she’d like the confidence, at least.

“I already have some plans,” Kurara continued, and Kyoshika nodded, goaded her to continue. “The Oosuzu—in my memories, my wealth and status came from developing weapons. But this time, for real, I’ve decided I’m too good for that dirty work. I don’t…”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. Thought of this planet and all its doomed, tormented people.

“I don’t want to contribute to anymore statistics—after this. I want to invest in medical research that’ll save lives. I thought I might ask Omokage and Nozomi if they want to help. Which, of course they would. Working under me is the brightest future they could ever hope to achieve.”

“That’s a beautiful dream,” Kyoshika said. “I…”

She thrust a fist in the air. “Have no plans!”

“Seriously!?” Kurara gaped. “I pour my heart out, and you have nothing to say!? Ugh, idiot, if you’re so desperate for someone to mooch off of, I’m sure I can hire you as my bodyguard.”

“…” Kyoshika smiled, though this time, it never reached her eyes. “I’d love nothing more, Lady Kurara. But I’m afraid fate calls for a different future from this warrior.”

“Wh—what?” Kurara’s voice faltered, and she cursed herself. Kyoshika moved into a more comfortable sitting position, knees folded under her.

“I’ve thought about what lies in store after the war. After we…slaughter the people of this planet for the sake of humanity, securing their homes while robbing innocent Futurans of theirs. To partake in the revelry as if their blood does not stain my hands forever feels tantamount to weighting their lives in irrelevance. I cannot simply revoke myself of my guilt.”

“It’s not…” Kyoshika’s hands shook, and she grabbed onto her sword, as if debating throwing it into the ocean then and there.

One look at Kurara, though, and she let go.

“I can’t do it,” she whispered. “I thought…I’d go on a journey of atonement. Around this planet—I’ll do everything I can to find every remnant of the civilization which resided here before it’s all destroyed by time and people alike.

“Someone must remember them. Perhaps it’s unbecoming of their murderers to do so, but if no one else will take this duty, then I shall.”

A noble goal, befitting of someone who claimed to be a warrior of justice dedicated to destroying all evil. A cause which made sense when it was humanity versus the “vile, barbaric invaders”, but faced with the truth, nullified by her sins, left adrift amidst the ruins and reminders, Kyoshika had to find a new duty.

Even if it meant leaving those she loved most, just for a bit.

Kurara had such a beautiful dream, one which surely would minimize suffering for so many people. And though Kurara phrased it as a return to power for herself, Kyoshika knew the girl at heart—if it worked for the betterment of the people, she wouldn’t hold something like medicine for profit over less fortunate heads.

Even if she did, Nozomi wouldn’t let her.

“You…” Kurara said, the word leaving more as a breath than a coherent thought. She appeared blank—struggled to speak, struggled to be.

Finally, she raised a fist, balled under her too-long sleeves. She lightly, gently, hit Kyoshika’s shoulder, then lunged forward to bury herself in her chest.

Kyoshika closed her eyes and took a deep breath, taking in Kurara’s scent as it mingled with her tears. Refreshing, flowery—unlike Kyoshika’s sweat and grime. Kurara took such good care of herself.

She’d be fine on her own for a bit.

Even then. Kyoshika wrapped her arms around Kurara, keeping her close. For as long as she could.

She’d been content to stay like so. Kurara lifted her head up, a deep red flush across her face. “I don’t want you to go,” she said.

“But, I must.”

“But I—I’ll hate you…forever, if you…” Kurara began, but her angry threat died out before she managed to get the rest out. Kyoshika felt relieved, if guilty for the feeling. The last thing she wanted to do was fight her dear lady on the topic until it soured this tender conversation.

Yes…her dear, precious—

“If you leave without this.”

Kurara grabbed Kyoshika by the hem around her neck and tugged her down into a kiss. Pressed her into it, a long and deep, yet warm and tender moment the two shared before Kurara let go and rubbed her nose.

“Ow…” Reddened not just by the blushing, but by the way Kyoshika’s nose bumped into Kurara’s when the other girl pulled her down. Yet the smile on Kurara’s face shone through. She’d held it back for so long—with everything the way it was, an expression of her buried yearning became the natural conclusion.

Even still.

“I…” Kyoshika’s mouth flapped open, and sealed shut as her mind stopped.

There wasn’t much Kyoshika thought to say to that. Honestly, she struggled to say anything at all.

Except—

“Haaaaaaaaaah!?”

Kyoshika short circuited. She scrambled back and articulated all her deepest thoughts in the most eloquent, articulate way she could: “Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!?”

“Is that all you have to say!?” Kurara snapped, throwing more globs of sand at Kyoshika. “You’re the worst! Go on your journey and leave us alone already, you obviously don’t know how to—how to—ugh!”

“I hardly think you’re much of an expert on matters of the heart either!” Kyoshika yelled, retaliating with sand of her own. “Face banishment, fiend!”

“You go away first! You and your awful reaction to your first kiss!”

“Nay, you shall depart first!”

“No, you!”

“Nay, you!”

“Ah, here it is.”

Takumi hadn’t the faintest idea what the two girls were doing. Him and Eito watched them from a distance, just in case some invaders jumped them, but seeing the area as clear as could be, the two focused on their secondary objective. There’d been some rocky areas nearby, so maybe, Takumi thought, they’d find some tide pools before Kurara and Kyoshika wrapped up their conversation.

And, luck be on their side, Takumi stumbled onto some. Eito followed behind him, occasionally with Takumi taking his hand and leading him around the rubble. Even now, Takumi grabbed Eito’s hand without thinking and helped him step onto the low cliff.

If Kurara and Kyoshika had been around, he might’ve been too embarrassed to do so. But…well, not like Eito had any reason to spread it around.

Probably.

…Maybe Takumi shouldn’t have, actually.

“C’mon, kneel here,” Takumi said, guiding Eito even as he pouted.

“Takumi, you don’t need to fret so much over me,” he said, smiling. “It’s not as if I can enjoy the sight of the ocean.”

“You don’t need to keep reminding me,” Takumi said, biting back annoyance. “There’s not much to see anyways. Just a bunch of garbage. I doubt there’s even any fish out here.”

Eito clicked his tongue. “Senseless destruction of nature. Another byproduct of conquest and human cruelty.”

“…I know,” Takumi said, if only to not turn this into an argument. Just because he didn’t want to be reminded of the fact this was a conquest didn’t make it any less true—and with everything they’ve faced so far, he’d be stupid to close his eyes and cover his ears now. Still.

Still.

Did Eito need to bring it up so often?

“…Hey, wait,” Takumi said. A ripple creased the surface of the biggest pool, and he crawled over to get a closer look.

Underneath the murky waters, life flitted about. Two smaller sized fish swished through the pool, a pink-colored vine creature he’d never seen before stuck to the bottom.

Not that he’d ever actually seen any ocean life outside of the fish in the academy, fake memories excluded. Speaking of, he’d need to find a way to get them out on day 100…maybe a travel tank would—

Takumi shook his head, and that train of thought with it. “I think there’s something in here.”

“There is?” Eito lit up, running his hands against the rocks until he discovered the edge of the tide pool, fingers against the surface of the water. “There’s still something living here despite the conditions. Even in the most adverse environments, life thrives.”

“It’s almost…admirable. If annoying, depending on the species.”

“I’m aware,” Takumi said, dryly enough to earn a chuckle out of Eito. “Dunno what kind of fish these are. Maybe I should’ve brought some kind of book? But, wait, these are…probably native to the planet? No way Sirei gave us books on the local animals.”

“Invasive species are a thing,” Eito said.

Takumi sighed. “You can stop reminding me we’re the invaders, I know.”

“No—it’s a real ecological phenomenon. Introducing a species outside of the natural food chain can potentially disrupt it, killing native species, throwing the entire system out of order.”

“Oh.” Takumi sucked in a breath. “…Sorry, Aotsuki.”

“It’s okay,” Eito said, patting Takumi on the shoulder, “I know you don’t read.”

Takumi swatted his hand away. “Shut up. Okay, so these might be fish from the satellite or from the planet, we don’t know. But they look kinda—harmless? Maybe not the pink one, but wearing gloves might make them safe.”

“Safe for what?” Eito asked.

“For…”

Takumi trailed off. As childish as it seemed, he had an idea, watching the fish swim about the pool afforded to them. Their entire world, their existence for all it mattered.

He wondered whether they swam so erratically in response to the two giants looming over them, disrupting their cherished pocket of reality in all their abnormality. “I dunno. You can’t see them, so I thought you might wanna try and touch them instead.”

“I—” Eito said, and clammed his mouth shut. He angled his head down—not towards the fish. Towards the darkness, nowhere in particular. “I don’t know…are they slimy?”

“They’re fish,” Takumi said.

Eito sighed. “How helpful of you.”

“Hey, I think—they’re wet, I don’t know. Smooth, not really slimy if you’re not looking for it? I mean, they are, but unless you take them outta the water you probably won’t notice—”

“But we’re not doing that,” Eito said, firm. Takumi nodded.

“Right. We won’t.” Takumi frowned. “You probably wouldn’t wanna touch something slimy, huh.”

“Hm…”

Eito pressed a hand to his chin, covered his mouth. “I touch slimy things every day,” he muttered, and reached to grasp Takumi’s hand. Takumi grimaced and shook him off, to Eito’s amusement. “But touching something that isn’t a monster doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Seriously, you’re never gonna stop,” Takumi grumbled, though in that frustration lied an underbelly of resignation—acceptance. If Eito stopped talking about the monstrous traits he felt and smelled in others, maybe Takumi would start griping at him for not being honest anymore.

…Yeah, right. He wouldn’t miss Eito dropping that annoying habit of his. Nope. Not at all.

A hum, and Eito removed one of his gloves, draping it onto the rocky, uneven ground, as precious as one might tuck away a fancy silk robe. He wiggled his fingers, inviting the salty scent of the ocean to cut between them, before he lowered his hand—

“No, not there,” Takumi said, grabbing his wrist (still covered by the jacket) and guiding it until it hovered over the right place. “There. Go ahead.”

“Thank you, Takumi,” he said, and the sincere casualness of the gratitude stunned Takumi into silence.

Yes, he’s heard Eito say it so many times. But in this moment, this oddly mundane moment he thought might never happen again, it sunk into him—this was the life he traveled back for.

In the end, he faced not the Eito he left behind, or the one he considered killing, but…someone different.

Someone happier. More genuine.

“Slimy…” Eito muttered as he frowned. “They squirm a lot—something’s shifting, too…the gills?”

“Hey, don’t suffocate them!”

“I wouldn’t do that to an innocent creature untouched by the planet’s devastation.” Takumi sighed between Eito’s words. “Hm, this one’s tingly—no, sticky?”

Takumi grabbed his hand out of the water. “We don’t know what that is, so don’t touch it too much. It could be poisonous.”

“Vene…mous,” Eito corrected, though the word came out in such a slow breath it caught Takumi’s attention, until he realized what he’d done and looked down at his hands, just as Eito did the same with his own.

“Wait…” Takumi said. “That was an accident.”

“…”

“Aotsuki?”

When Eito still didn’t reply, Takumi shrugged. “Just wash your hands off in the ocean if it bothers you that much.” He stood up, looking off to where two faint figures threw sand at each other. “I’ll go get them and we can head—”

“Takumi.”

Eito reached up and grabbed Takumi’s hand with his own, ungloved one. Despite the obvious displeasure he displayed, he clung even as Takumi resisted, until he finally gave up and hit Eito with bafflement. “What?”

Eito swallowed, and entangled his fingers with Takumi’s own. This started to get a little too…intimate for Takumi’s liking, but—well, Aotsuki’s weird, he thought. I can never get a read on what he wants. Maybe he wants to feel me squirm, for all I know.

So he wouldn’t give Eito the pleasure. Not that he needed to give him anything.

“Takumi,” Eito repeated, as though if he stopped saying his name he’d disappear, “All these fish know is the ocean. These polluted waters and these little pools. They’ve never seen anything else.

“They’ve…never seen grass, or the inside of a building, or the night sky. They’ve never felt fire, or tasted a warm plate of food.

“My life—up until you spared it again, I’ve spent it in this tiny, tiny pool. We’ve all been like that, haven’t we? In these small contained worlds. We’d never seen anything of value until we woke up in the school.

“…

“I’m glad we weren’t born fish, Takumi. Aren’t you?”

Takumi’s brain screeched to a halt. The life of a fish—he thought back to the ones in the academy tank. They lived contained lives, set on a course whether constructed by man or nature. The SDU had a lot more in common with those creatures than they did with the humans on the satellite, or the Futurans desperate to survive on this planet.

Hell, even a fish in the ocean lived with more free will than they did. Locked onto their path from birth, they accepted their fates with only feeble protest.

Of course. No one wanted to die. They fought to not fight anymore.

“I don’t know,” Takumi said, something stirring and plucking his heart, “being a fish doesn’t sound so bad.”

Eito’s hand tensed. With slow, delicate movements, he untangled his fingers from Takumi’s hand, and reached down to put his glove back on.

“I knew you’d say that,” Eito said, “Takumi.”

“You don’t need to keep saying my name,” Takumi said as he offered Eito a shoulder to help stand back up on. He accepted the offer with no complaints.

“I’m trying to imagine what kind of fish you’d be,” Eito said, ignoring Takumi’s grumbling. “If only I had an encyclopedia to reference—but I wouldn’t be able to see the pages, so I’d need to point at random. Or have you find the names for me, but I don’t think you’d be up to the task.”

“Seriously, I know some stuff about fish,” Takumi said, kicking the ground. His heel brushed over the surface of a pool and sent a ripple through the water—a moment of chaos, then calm came. “I…so, it might’ve been fake, but I remember being into fish for a while when I was a kid. Karu…I got a book about them as a gift for my birthday. I learned a lot from it, and begged my mom to take me to the aquarium for a while after.”

“But—” Takumi scratched his cheek, “they didn’t have nearly as many species as I wanted, so I annoyed the staff about it for ages ‘til my mom dragged me home and lectured me.”

Eito laughed. “I didn’t think you were capable of pure love like that. Are there any fun fish facts you want to tell me?”

“…Y’see, I don’t think I bothered to read most of it. I liked the pictures more than anything.”

“Ah, I see. That makes much more sense.”

“Sh-shut up! It’s still important to me, okay? I doubt you know much about fish either.”

“I know enough to know where their gills are, unlike someone.”

“Wait, they’re not on the—hey! You were messing with me this whole time!?”

“Out of love,” Eito said, and Takumi buried his head in his hands. Two pairs of footsteps snapped him out of his humiliation, and he looked up.

“What are you two doing?” Kurara snapped, though Takumi found himself stunned at the fact she spoke so brazenly without her mask. Did he miss something? “I can’t believe it, you idiots couldn’t even find some—”

“Tide pools!” Kyoshika cried as she knelt, fixated on the one with life in it. “Lady Kurara, come look, come look!”

“There are some!?” Kurara followed Kyoshika to the ground, the two watching the tiny fish and fauna swish about with the water, guided by the breeze, by the planet’s dying gasps. Mesmerized, Kyoshika reached out and grabbed a fish from the water, holding its eyes towards the sun.

“Look, fish!” she yelled. “This is the sight we rejoice in every day! Cherish it!”

“Put it back!” Kurara snapped. With some angry punches to the shoulder, Kyoshika relented and returned it to the water. It swam off center for a bit before righting itself and circling its little home once more.

The only home it’d know.

“We should head back,” Takumi said, and Eito grabbed his hand again.

“…Soon,” Eito said. “This moment—I’d like to enjoy it for a little longer.”

Just a moment more.

Just a memory.

Just…

.