Warning for mass violence in this chapter, including shooting and bombing.

Chapter 25: Illusion

After her morning classes, Hanako went to her locker and dumped all the books out of her bag. She filled it with the essentials stored in the back—glow sticks, water bottles, makeup, her favorite lighter. Her body felt blissfully light as she made her way down the hallway.

As usual, Mahiru was the first to notice the difference when she sat down at their lunch table.

"Where are your books?" she asked, opening her neatly-packed bento box.

"Don't need 'em." Hanako took a bite of her chicken.

Ibuki dropped into the seat next to her, her shoulders similarly unburdened. "Books are a thing of the past."

Mahiru sighed. "Don't tell me you two are playing hooky again."

Hiyoko pushed her bag onto the table, nearly upending Mikan's lunch tray in the process. "What, are you two gonna go make out in the music room again?"

Hanako choked on her food. "How the fuck do you know about that?"

Ibuki thumped her on the back and produced a pair of tickets with her free hand. "Bloodstock! The opening act is tonight!"

She took a gulp of water to clear her throat. "Hope's Peak said we could miss class for educational purposes. A music festival is the perfect place to develop Ibuki's talent."

Mahiru rolled her eyes. "You guys are kind of stretching the meaning of 'educational.'"

"W-Why are you going, Yukimura?" Mikan asked, one lock of hair dangerously close to dipping into her soup as she leaned forward. "Are you going to be giving people tattoos at the festival?"

"Well, no. But I'll see people with tattoos there, and that's…" It became harder to suppress a smile as she noticed Ibuki nodding along seriously. "That's kind of like research."

"Just be safe if you're that set on going," Mahiru said. "I heard there's been an increase in violent crime lately."

Hanako shrugged. "It's a metal festival. I'm expecting to get a little beat up."

"And give 'em hell right back." Ibuki pulled out a couple of spiked rings with a grin.

"Oh my god, you actually got them?" She leaned closer to get a better look. "They're badass."

Mikan grimaced. "Please be careful, you two."

"Ooh, you should come with us." Ibuki grabbed her arm and shook it. "You can help out in one of the medical tents. That counts as talent research, right?"

Her eyes widened. "Is it r-really so dangerous there?"

Hanako shrugged. "Shit happens."

"What about you, Hiyoko?" Ibuki turned to her. "I heard Haunted Lobotomy might be making an appearance."

"No way am I third wheeling with you two." Hiyoko sniffed and tore open another pack of gummies.

"We only got two tickets anyway, so." Hanako dug into her lunch, trying not to look relieved.

As the others headed off to their afternoon classes, she and Ibuki walked to the train station. They split a pair of earbuds plugged into Ibuki's mp3 player and listened to their favorite tracks while they waited.

The third time her earbud fell out due to Ibuki's excessive head banging, Hanako caught it and tossed it at her face. "Dude."

"Sorry." With a sheepish grin, Ibuki wrapped the cord around her device and stowed it away as the train pulled into the station. "We need to get a pair with a longer cord."

"Do they even make those?" Hanako stepped into the train, taking Ibuki's hand to keep her close. "They're designed for one person."

"Ooh, we could ask Souda to make us a special pair." She bounced on her toes. "Thirty feet of cord on either side, so we can listen to the same song in our dorm rooms."

Hanako laughed at the mental image. "That would be pretty sweet."

"Ibuki has always wanted to hear what her music would sound like in a more old fashioned way. You know those tin cans attached with a string?"

Her smile grew. "I'm pretty sure that's just a myth. Like, those don't actually work."

Ibuki pouted and rested her chin on Hanako's shoulder. "Can't you let my dreams be more than dreams?"

"Tell you what." She knocked their foreheads together. "I'll buy you one of those old-timey speakers. What are they called?"

"A sonogram?"

She snorted. "That's what you use on pregnant women."

"Then Ibuki will play her music on a sonogram for pregnant women. That horn thing is the perfect shape to go against the belly."

She demonstrated with her hands, and the two of them fell out laughing, earning a few looks from the other passengers.

The sun was setting by the time they left the train stop and got on the bus to the festival site. Hanako could tell the journey was making Ibuki a little antsy, but she made her sit still so she could touch up her makeup.

"Your hand is so steady," Ibuki said as they hit another road bump. Hanako had lifted the tip of the eyeliner just in time. "What's the craziest place you've ever given someone a tattoo?"

"A boat, probably."

Her lips twitched. "Some hotshot's fancy yacht?"

"A canoe. And it was in the middle of a swimming pool." She rolled her eyes. "That was during my S&P days, but that was risky even back then." She capped the eyeliner. "All done."

"Banger." Ibuki slumped against her. "I want a tattoo of a canoe in the middle of a swimming pool. On a yacht."

"Oh my god, yes." Hanako pulled out her pen and spent the rest of the bus ride sketching the design on Ibuki's arm.

Once they were inside the festival grounds, Hanako led the way to the row of tents selling merchandise and concessions. "I wanna get hydrated before we find a spot. Let's go before the lines get too long."

"I'm gonna hit the john." Ibuki pointed at the portable toilets. "I'll meet you after, 'kay?"

She hesitated. They had an unspoken agreement to stick together when going to things like this. "You sure?"

"It's not far." She wrinkled her nose. "Besides, I always get carded when I try to buy drinks with you."

Hanako nodded. Her own tattoo-covered arms and eye bags helped her pass as an adult for the most part. "Let's meet by that banner over there."

"Roger dodger." Ibuki pecked her on the cheek and skipped away to the toilets.

Hanako kept an eye on her retreating figure as she stepped in line behind a guy with spiky brown hair. She'd been nonchalant with her other friends because she didn't need Mahiru worrying more than she already did, and Mikan always looked like she was going to burst a blood vessel at the thought of either of them being in danger. She could take bloody noses and bruises, but the thought of Ibuki getting hurt always made her anxiety spike.

She really needed that drink.

"One beer, whatever you have on tap," the guy in front of her said, and she realized she was almost at the front of the line. He glanced over his shoulder at her. "I'll pay for hers, too."

Hanako narrowed her eyes a fraction. "You'll have to pay for me and my girlfriend."

He shrugged. "Sure."

She shifted her gaze to the woman working the concession stand. "Couple of spiked seltzers."

The canned drinks were wet with condensation, and she pressed one to the side of her neck as she left the stand. It was balmy outside, especially for nighttime.

"Is this your first time at an event like this?" the man asked, beer in hand as he fell into step beside her.

"No." She looked him over. "I guess it's yours, though."

He stood out like a sore thumb in a green polo shirt and khakis. He looked to be about her age though, so he couldn't be one of the reluctant fathers chaperoning their teenage daughters.

"I guess it's pretty obvious, huh?" He took a sip of his beer. "I don't usually come to these kinds of things."

She tilted her head. "Someone drag you along?"

He nodded. "I'm looking for a friend."

"You could hang with us until you find them."

"That's okay." He scanned the growing crowd around the main stage. He had fairly unremarkable features, but his eyes were a piercing red that gave him an intense look even with his mild expression. "I should probably get going."

"Alright." She scrutinized him for a moment more, then shrugged. Maybe he'd just been trying to get in his good deed for the day, like the time Mahiru had tried to get them all to keep gratitude journals. "Thanks for the drinks."

"No problem." He tipped his beer at her and disappeared into the crowd.

To Hanako's relief, Ibuki was already by the banner where they'd agreed to meet. She raised an arm and waved, her jewelry winking in the artificial lights.

"Some guy paid for our drinks." Hanako passed one of the cans to her and took a swig from her own.

"Ooh, where is he?" Ibuki lifted herself onto her toes. "Did you give him a proper thank you?"

"I said thank you, that was it," she said, pinching her side lightly. "I said he could hang with us, but he passed. Dude looked like he got lost on the way to the golf course."

"Good call." Ibuki slung an arm around her shoulders as they delved into the crowd of people. "He'd probably get torn to shreds in the mosh pit."

Hanako snickered at that, then let out a cheer as the lights on the stage flared to life.

The opening act and the light buzz from the drink was enough to make her forget about her encounter with the stranger, about her previous worries, about the fact that she had an assignment due on Monday that she hadn't even started yet. There was only the thrumming of the bass and the sweat sheening her skin and Ibuki's arm brushing hers as they danced.

They tossed their empty drinks in a nearby trash can, leftover seltzer arcing through the air, and waded deeper into the crowd. The heat from the press of bodies swelled around them. Another band came out, lit in flashy red and pink. Hanako was thrashing along with the guitar solo when the stage exploded with flames.

Ibuki stopped head banging and raised her arms. "Pyrotechnics, hell yeah!"

"That's a shit ton of smoke," Hanako said, squinting through the billowing gray cloud to try and see the band. The stage lights went out and the music stopped. "What the fuck?"

A popping noise filled the ensuing pause. She looked around for fireworks, but the sky was empty, the crowd below shifting like a darkened sea. Someone screamed. A lanky man a few feet away swore loudly as the person beside him toppled onto him and didn't move.

Gunshots, Hanako's brain supplied. Those are fucking gunshots.

Panic swelled in the confusion. People began to push and run and stumble. Hanako grabbed Ibuki's hand and pulled her away from the noise.

"What's going on?" Ibuki gasped, taking the lead with her nimbler feet.

"I don't know." She hissed through her teeth as someone stumbled into her and pressed closer to Ibuki. She couldn't let anyone break their grip. "Let's just get the hell out of here."

They were getting closer to the fence surrounding the perimeter. A few people were already scrambling up and over the chain link. They would have more room to run once they were on the other side. They could make their way back to the highway and find a spot to hide until help came.

The whole length of the fence exploded all at once, filling her vision with flames. Ibuki screamed. Hanako blinked away the burning white clouds in her vision and saw chunks of dirt and pieces of metal rain down onto the scorched earth. Something hit the ground a few feet away with a wet slap.

It was a piece of an arm.

This isn't real. This isn't happening.

She swayed on her feet, then fell to the ground as someone collided with her back.

"Get off!" She rolled, swinging an elbow backwards until it collided with flesh.

"Hanako!" Ibuki grabbed both her arms and heaved her upright.

The man who had knocked her over was already scrambling to his feet. She watched him disappear into the churning crowd. Gunfire kept up a steady drumbeat.

"Come on." She took Ibuki's hand again. Her limbs felt dangerously light, her pulse rabbit-quick in her throat. They had to move. They had to escape. Everything else could wait.

They fought through the throng, stumbling over prone bodies. Some were trying to get back to their feet. Most weren't moving at all. Hanako took the lead, using her free arm to shove a path through the bodies.

Something wet splattered against the side of her neck, and a man nearly knocked her over as he fell. Hanako kept moving.

She did not look.

Through the chaos, she made out a line of trees up ahead. It would give them some cover, at least, while they figured out where to go next.

"We're almost there," she said, her voice barely audible over the screams and gunfire. "Let's make it to the trees."

"Right behind you," Ibuki said, squeezing her hand.

Another round of gunfire peppered the crowd. A woman fell right in front of her, and Hanako swore as she nearly lost her footing.

Ibuki's hand slipped out of her grip.

"Shit." She turned and stumbled as someone's elbow smacked against her face. Her cheek stung. The world spun in stripes of smoke and skin.

Her fall was cushioned by someone else's ribcage. Their skin was still warm. She pushed herself upright and looked around. The glint of Ibuki's ring caught her eye as someone almost stepped on her hand. Hanako pushed herself up and shoved her way through the crowd to where Ibuki was lying.

"Hey." She knelt, trying to angle her body to shield Ibuki from getting trampled. "Ibuki, we gotta go. Get up."

She was facedown, motionless. Hanako took her head in both hands and felt something wet and hot seep against her palm.

"Babe, come on." She gripped her shoulders and tried to turn her over. "Get up. We have to go."

A foot struck her back, hard enough to knock the breath from her lungs. She doubled over and coughed, her face buried in the back of Ibuki's shirt.

A hand closed around her upper arm. She whirled around and shoved hard at her assailant.

"Get the fuck away from me!"

It was the man from earlier, the one with the red eyes. Her shove hadn't moved him very far, and he knelt beside her.

"Are you alright? Can you walk?"

"I'm not leaving without Ibuki." She tried again to roll her over onto her back. He reached over to help her, and together they managed to turn her over.

Ibuki's face was covered in blood. It stained her bangs, made strands of hair stick to her cheek. Most of it seemed to come from the jagged hole in her temple.

Hanako let out a sound that might have been a scream, but it died in her throat. She wiped the blood away with shaking hands. Ibuki's eyes were open, but Hanako didn't understand what she was staring at.

"We have to go," the man said.

"No. No." Hanako fumbled for her cell phone. If they had reception out here, she could call Mikan. She would know how to fix this.

He grabbed both of her wrists, holding fast when she tried to pull away. "They're not going to stop until they kill everyone here."

"Ibuki—"

"She's dead."

"No." She tried to reach for her again, but he wrapped an arm around her waist and hauled her to her feet. "No, get the fuck off me! Ibuki!"

She thrashed all four limbs as she screamed. He only managed to drag her a few steps before the gunfire started up again. Someone fell against her, hard enough to make her nose throb with the impact, and the arm around her loosened its grip.

Her head was spinning. She'd lost sight of Ibuki in the chaos. The scent of blood was thick in her nostrils. She didn't remember what it was like to smell anything else.

A pair of red eyes came into view, anchoring her vision. He pulled her upright again, and this time she let him.

"Stay close to me." He grasped her arm and tugged her in the direction of the stage.

It was all Hanako could do to keep herself upright. She couldn't stop seeing Ibuki, the blood on her face and the slackness in her expression.

I left her. I left her.

The smoke grew thicker as they neared the stage. Most of the people had run away from that direction after the initial explosion, and once they broke free of the crowd, they were able to run without dodging bodies.

They'd also lost their cover. A bullet hissed past her face, and Hanako gasped, faltering for a second. The stranger pulled her along, never once breaking his stride.

"Why the fuck are we going this way?" she asked, but her words were lost in a coughing fit as they plunged into the haze. She clamped her shirt over her mouth and nose and let him drag her through the wreckage.

And then they were through, sprinting past abandoned trailers and trucks. The gunfire no longer deafened her, and a low ringing filled her ears.

Ibuki, lying in the dirt, looking at nothing.

She wanted to curl up and scream.

He didn't let her stop until they'd left the festival grounds far behind and climbed up a nearby hill. As soon as he let go of her arm, she fell to her knees, chest heaving with ragged breaths. Her wrist felt bruised from his grip.

She bent double and retched. The ground rocked beneath her, shivers needling at her skin.

Is this real? She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for gravity to work normally again. Maybe she'd taken a tab of something at the beginning of the concert and forgotten. Maybe this was just the worst trip of her life.

"Breathe."

She didn't remember sitting up, but the next thing she knew, she was upright with her knees against her chest. The stranger knelt in front of her, his hands on her knees.

"Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth."

She obeyed, and after a few minutes, her nausea subsided. Her gaze slid to the thin trails of smoke rising from the field below.

"What the fuck just happened?" she stammered. "W-Why would someone do that?"

The stranger sat beside her. "Have you been reading the news lately?"

"N-No. I don't really keep up with that stuff."

There was blood on her hands, pooling in between her fingers and whirling along with her fingerprints. She tore up a handful of grass and tried to scrub it off.

Mahiru read the news. Just that morning, she'd said, I heard there's been an increase in violent crime lately.

She scraped the blood and blades of grass from her palms and dug her cell phone from her pocket. She pulled up her favorite contacts.

Ibuki's name was first, along with a half dozen emoticons.

Tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision until the screen was barely legible. With unsteady fingers, she navigated to Mahiru's number and pressed the phone to her ear.

Mahiru picked up on the third ring. "Hello?"

Her voice caught in her throat. Hanako started to cry.

"Yukimura, are you okay? What's going on over there?"

"I-I…" How was she supposed to explain what had happened? How was she supposed to tell her that Ibuki wasn't coming back?

"Did you see that announcement on TV? Are you guys—"

The line went dead.

Hanako looked at the screen, but the call had ended. She pressed on Mahiru's contact again, her finger smearing blood on the screen. The phone didn't even ring this time, just went straight to a low-pitched dial tone. Her heart dropped. After a minute of listening to the dull noise, she lowered the phone.

"Your call didn't go through?"

She flinched. She'd almost forgotten she wasn't alone.

"I-I'm gonna try again." Her voice came out thick and unsteady, and she swiped away a tear as it landed on her cheek.

Before she could try another call, he put a hand on her arm, more gently than before.

"I think the phone lines are down."

"Why?" Her eyes returned to the tufts of smoke, the low pops of gunfire still rattling in the distance. "You think it has something to do with that?"

"There's a group that's been committing terrorist attacks around the country over the past few months. They've never attempted this big, though." He followed her gaze. "They call themselves World Destroyer."

"This is fucking insane." She curled in tighter on herself, as if that would stop her from shaking. "I don't understand why this is happening."

"Does it matter?"

"Yeah, kind of." She wiped her eyes so she could give him an indignant glare. "Why a music festival? Why tonight? Why did Ibuki have to die?"

Something like sympathy touched his expression. Before he could respond, a light in the distance caught her eye. The orange glow of an explosion flared to life like a firework.

"I don't think the music festival was the only attack," he said, and Hanako let out a shuddering breath.

They watched the fires start one by one until they lit the horizon like a second sunset.


Twenty One Days Later

When she was certain she was alone, Hanako sat in the corner of the abandoned subway car with her back pressed against the wall, on top of the pile of blankets she'd been using as a bed for the past few days. She pulled her cell phone out of her jacket pocket and held down the power button. When the device turned on, she winced at the glare of the screen in the dim space.

The battery was just below thirty percent. There had been no way to charge it—the entire power grid of the city had been down for weeks. She navigated to her voicemail and selected the most recent message, from six weeks ago.

She pressed play and pressed the speaker to her ear.

"Heyo, it's your girl I- to the bu- to the ki! I'm setting up a banger party to kick off the weekend, so can you pick up some glow paint on your way back to HPA? Promise I won't get it on the carpet this time. Thanks babe!" A kissing noise and a click.

Hanako lowered her phone and powered it off, her breaths sharp and painful. It hurt to listen to that message, just as much as it had the past dozen times, but it was a wound she couldn't stop picking at. She couldn't stop seeing Ibuki in the dead bodies she'd passed. She couldn't stop reliving that night in her dreams, feeling Ibuki's hand slip from hers over and over again.

Footsteps crunched on the ground outside. Hanako tensed and reached for the crowbar she'd been using as a weapon. She rose into a crouch and gripped it with both hands.

A shadow appeared in the doorway. "It's me."

She relaxed and sat back on her heels. "I thought you were gonna be gone longer."

Hajime Hinata climbed into the train car. He'd been with her since the day the world had ended, the day he'd pulled her out of a slaughter and saved her life. He'd saved her more times than she could count since that night. He'd been the one to steer them away from a military refugee camp the day before it went up in flames. He'd led the way through shootouts and ambushes. He'd pried the razor from her hands one stormy night in an abandoned hotel.

So when he gathered up his belongings and said, "We need to go," she didn't hesitate.

"How many?" she asked as she threw her own supplies haphazardly into her backpack and tied the crowbar to the side.

"Half a dozen. They're armed." He hopped out of the subway car and reached out to help her down. She took his hand.

She'd never asked how he was so good at surviving, or why he was bothering to keep her alive. Most days it didn't feel like it mattered. Ever since the night in the hotel, she'd tried her best to keep from stopping long enough to think.

Even so, she felt a pang as they set off down the darkened tunnel. They averaged four days in a safe place before they were forced to move on. The subway car had only lasted for three.

Hajime led the way with a flashlight covered in cloth, which kept the light dim enough that they could only see what was directly in front of them. Light attracted attention, and from his quickened pace, Hanako guessed the group he'd seen wasn't far behind.

She tripped on a chunk of concrete and stifled a swear with one hand. Hajime turned to look at her, but she waved him off. Her knee still throbbed from when they'd jumped down into the subway tunnel in the first place. She hoped they wouldn't have to run.

When Hajime came to a stop, she nearly ran face-first into his shoulder. She looked past him and her eyes widened.

Their path was blocked by a pile of rubble. Hajime glanced behind them and took the cloth off the flashlight. He swept the brightened beam across the width of the tunnel, but there was no way around.

"Can we climb over?" Hanako whispered.

"It might collapse under us." His flashlight found an exit in the wall to their right, half-concealed by concrete. "There."

He'd just covered the light again and started towards the door when another beam of light swept over them. Hanako whirled around and flinched at the four beams of light pointed at her face.

Hajime grabbed her shoulders and pushed her down just as a set of gunshots rang out in the narrow space. Dust hissed from the fragments of concrete. In the narrow space, the shots were enough to make her ears ring. Their flashlights had left white circles in her vision.

She had a split second to regain her bearings before Hajime was pushing her in the direction of the door. Bullets crackled against the rock. She ignored the pain in her knee and ran for the wall.

The door opened a few inches when she yanked on the handle, but the rubble on the ground prevented it from moving further than that.

Hanako shoved her crowbar into the gap and threw her weight against it. The door inched towards her with a grating noise, then stopped. "Shit."

Hajime pressed his gun into her hand. "Cover me."

As he knelt down to clear the floor, she pressed against the doorway, trying to make herself as small of a target as possible, and returned fire. The gun jumped in her hands with each shot, and as far as she could tell not a single one landed, but the beams of light scattered.

"Got it." Hajime pried the door open wide enough for them to squeeze through and pulled her inside.

The room beyond was small and circular, a ladder extending upwards past what their flashlight beam could reach.

Hajime shoved the door closed and bolted it shut. "The lock's not gonna hold. Let's go."

Ignoring the protest of her sore muscles, Hanako handed him his gun back and started climbing the ladder. A moment later, a thud sounded from the other side of the door, accompanied by the squeal of rusted metal. She swore and pushed herself to climb faster.

"Hinata?"

"Right behind you."

She found the top of the ladder when her head smacked against something solid.

"Fucking ow."

"You okay?"

"Found the top." Her fingers scrabbled blindly against the rough metal surface, searching for a handle or a lever.

Please don't be locked.

The door below finally gave with a screech.

Please let it be the fall that kills me.

Her hand found a groove in the metal, and she dug her fingers in and pushed as hard as she could.

The trap door lifted a few inches, enough for her to shove her arm through the gap and push upwards with her shoulders. She wiggled through the opening, feeling her hair catch on the rough metal. A bullet pinged against the ladder.

Once she was through, she grabbed the trap door with both hands and hauled it all the way open. Hajime was at the top of the ladder, and she reached down to pull him up.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine." He crouched and slammed the door shut. "I don't think they'll follow us this way, but let's find something to block the entrance."

Hanako sat back and let out an exasperated sigh, wishing for a moment to just rest, or at least make the case to her body that she needed to keep moving. She watched Hajime cast his light around the room, which wasn't much wider than the tunnel they'd just ascended. There was a desk next to a couple of metal lockers, all heavy enough to act as a decent barricade.

Hajime moved the light past the furniture and stopped it on a rectangular pile at the other end of the room.

Her breath caught in her throat. "What is that?"

The pile was twice her arm span and about shoulder height, dozens of plastic-wrapped bricks in perfect, uniform rows. There was a small device sitting on top.

Hajime stepped closer, eyes running over the device, the wires curling from both ends. "They're explosives."

"They're fucking what?" Hanako scrambled to her feet, exhaustion forgotten. "You mean like the ones they—"

She froze. World Destroyer had used fire-based explosives to kill people in the subways. Only some of the tunnels had collapsed, but most of them had remained intact. Everything within them had been turned to cinders.

"These must not have detonated," Hajime said.

Hanako struggled to swallow. She'd thought it had been a lucky break, finding a section of tunnels that hadn't been blackened by ash. They'd spent days sleeping right below a bomb.

"Is it, like, disarmed?" she asked hoarsely.

He moved next to the pile, flashlight beam flitting over the dimly-lit screen on top, which displayed a set of zeroes. "Probably not."

"Fuck."

"Whatever caused it to fail when the others went off is probably still in effect." Hajime cast his light around the room and found another door. "We still have time to get out of here." He tried the door, which moved half an inch with a grating noise. "Come on. We should go before those men find a way to cut us off."

Hanako took the crowbar from where it was tied to her pack. Even the simple movement took a tremendous amount of effort.

She was tired. She was so, so tired.

She let the crowbar slip from her fingers and clatter to the floor.

Hajime's expression went from expectant to concerned. "What are you doing?"

"What comes after this?" she asked. "We open that door, then what?"

"It looks like this room should connect to one of the stations. We'll find a way to the surface from there."

Her lips stretched into a bitter smile. "Yeah, and after that? We run from another pack of psychos with guns? Spend a night picking food out of dumpsters? What the fuck are we doing here?"

"We're surviving," Hajime said, and she wished he wouldn't be so patient with her. She wished he would get fed up with her, scream at her, lose his patience and leave. That would make things easy, at least.

An ache flared in the back of her throat. "I don't know if I want to do that anymore."

"I know." He crossed the room, picked up the crowbar, and held it out to her. "I'm asking you to keep going anyway."

She didn't reach out to take it. Her eyes were stinging. "Why? What does it matter to you if I live or die?"

The steel in his red eyes softened. "Because I care about you. I want you to keep going."

"I can't." A tear fell onto her cheek. "The world's gone to shit. What's the point in surviving in a place like this?"

"You won't know the answer to that question if you stay here."

She opened her mouth, then shook her head, temporarily speechless. "That was a fucking rhetorical question. I'm saying there's no point."

"I disagree."

"Then go." She took the other end of the crowbar and shoved it towards him. "At least you won't have to worry about me being dead fucking weight anymore."

He lowered the crowbar, still unfazed. "I'm not leaving without you."

"Then give me something. Give me something real." Her breath hitched, and she wiped her eyes. "I'm not going back out there out of morbid curiosity."

"Okay." Hajime lowered his gaze for a second, and when he extended his free hand, his eyes weren't quite so intense. "I promise you won't have to do this alone."

Her jaw trembled. She was good at surviving alone. For a long time, it had been the only thing she'd known. But here, in what felt like the depths of hell, she knew it would be impossible to pull herself out. She would never have made it this far by herself.

"If I did decide to die," she said, "would you stay with me?"

"Yes."

She looked at the pile of explosives. Apparently the fire spread so quickly the body didn't have time to process any pain before it was incinerated. It would all be over in an instant.

"I'm scared," she whispered.

"I know."

"How are you not terrified to go back out there?"

"Who says I'm not?" It was the first time she'd heard something close to unsteadiness in his voice. "I don't know if things will be okay in the end. But I think we owe it to ourselves to try."

There was nothing hopeful about his statement, and she was grateful for that. There was no hope in a world like this.

But he still thought they could make something of it.

We owe it to ourselves to try.

This wouldn't be her only chance to opt out, if that was what she really wanted. She had tomorrow, and the day after that, and the next. And in the meantime she could try finding a reason to keep going.

Hanako turned her head. Hajime was still watching her, crowbar in hand.

Maybe she already had one.

"Okay." She let out a slow sigh. "Fine. Let's get the stupid door open."

Together, they pried the crowbar into the gap and pushed the door open. Brilliant white light spilled from the opening, and when Hanako stumbled through, she found herself standing on nothing.

There were no floors or walls, just endless white interspersed with light blue lines. She looked over her shoulder, but the door was gone.

When she turned back around, Hajime was in front of her, a small smile on his face. The grime was gone from his face. Instead of a worn jacket and jeans, he was dressed in a simple black suit.

She blinked. "This isn't real."

"No."

When she closed her eyes, she could picture an island, sea salt and blood and sweat mingling in her senses. It didn't feel any more real than the door she'd just stepped through.

"If this isn't real, then what is it?"

"A test. You passed." His smile turned a touch sardonic. "Congratulations."

"Yeah, yeah." Even in her current weightless state, she felt a bone-deep exhaustion settling in her. "What now?"

Hajime stepped closer and held out a hand. "Now it's time for you to wake up."

This chapter was a tiny bit spontaneous on my part, but I really wanted to try my hand at a sort of DR 2.5 narrative between this chapter and the finale. ...And then I got super carried away because I'm a sucker for post-apocalyptic stories and it was really fun to write that second scene. But next chapter will be back to actual reality.

This chapter was titled after Illusion (feat. Born I) by Bassnectar and Peekaboo. Great for action scenes with a little bit of a sinister undertone. Thanks for reading!