I ran.
Not the heroic kind you see in movies, where the music swells and everything makes sense. No—this was the ugly kind. The kind where your lungs burn, your legs shake, and you don't even know if you're running toward something or just desperately trying to outrun yourself.
It wasn't fear pushing me forward. Fear had checked out a long time ago—probably somewhere between the world breaking and my sanity filing for resignation.
I ran because stopping meant thinking, and thinking meant remembering.
And remembering? Yeah… that was worse than dying.
The world around me had completely lost its mind. Buildings twisted like someone had taken reality and wrung it out like wet clothes. The sky flickered between colors that didn't exist yesterday, and the ground… the ground couldn't decide if it wanted to stay solid or become abstract art.
Physics had clearly quit. But even with all that chaos screaming for attention, my mind kept dragging me... back to her
"Here," she had said, holding out that small black box like it wasn't about to become the most important thing in my life. "Don't make it weird."
I almost laughed again just remembering it.
Her voice felt so real in my head that for a second, I forgot the world was ending. I could hear the faint ticking of the watch she gave me—steady, calm, completely indifferent to the apocalypse currently happening.
That stupid watch. The one thing that stayed consistent in my life… and I never even told her what it meant to me.
Now time itself had shattered, and I couldn't stop thinking about it—like it might still be ticking somewhere under the rubble, judging me.
I stumbled, catching myself just before face-planting into what used to be a road and was now… something else entirely.
And then, because apparently my brain enjoys torture, it dragged up that moment.
"I love you."
I had thrown it out like a joke, like it meant nothing. But she stopped, looked at me, a hint of hurt flickering in her eyes.
*You shouldn't joke about things like that.*
And I laughed. God, I actually laughed. Now the silence after that sentence haunted me louder than her scream ever could. If there was ever a moment I'd go back and punch myself in the face for, it would be that one.
My chest tightened, but I kept running. Because what else was I supposed to do? Stop? Sit down? Reflect on my life choices while the planet is actively wobbling?
Yeah, no thanks.
Her laugh came next—clear, bright, completely unfair.
*Hmph… They'll need more than your money to keep up with me, Souta.*
I remembered how she smiled when she said it like everyday could be a happy dream. And now that world is no more. My legs trembled, but I refused to fall. I couldn't, not yet. Because regret wasn't all that was left in me.
Somewhere beneath the heartbreak, something harder was forming, a promise. The wind roared around me, dragging ash and light through the cracks of the dying sky.
I whispered into it, not sure if I was praying or swearing an oath.
"I'll fix this, Kae. I swear, I'll fix it all."
"Even if I have to tear apart what's left of reality."
The ground split open, light pulsing from beneath like veins in the planet itself. I kept running — through fire, through shadow, through whatever was left of the world she once laughed in. Because I wasn't running away anymore. I was running toward something. And deep inside, I could feel it — a faint, uneven heartbeat that didn't belong to me. A thread of power, the Unknown's energy still lingering. Somewhat weak, but alive.
My eyes sharpened. The noise of the collapsing world dulled into background. Every sense stretched outward — light, sound, smell, motion. And somewhere, hidden in the distortion, something cried.
I clenched my fists.
This was my chance, my redemption. And I wouldn't stop until the impossible was made possible again.
Not far from where I ran like a man possessed—and honestly, that wasn't even inaccurate—the ruins stretched endlessly, like a broken mirror reflecting a world that refused to behave. Kenta and Hiro moved carefully through the chaos, which, in their defense, was the sane approach. Every step looked like it might trigger the ground's next identity crisis.
Around them, the remains of their school flickered between existence and… whatever the alternative was. Walls leaned at impossible angles, rivers flowed sideways, and the occasional rock just hovered there like it had better things to do than obey gravity.
"Over here," Kenta called, grabbing Hiro's sleeve and pointing toward movement near a collapsed pillar.
One by one, familiar faces emerged.
Aki staggered forward, coughing like she'd swallowed the desert. Daichi followed, bleeding and covered in ash, looking like he'd lost a fight with the ground and lost badly. Hana came last, helping another student along, her expression tight with worry.
No one spoke at first. They just looked at each other—really looked—like they needed visual confirmation that they weren't alone in whatever nightmare this was.
Finally, a small voice broke the silence. "Where's… Souta?"
The group stiffened. Hiro exchanged a glance with Kenta, then let out a breath before answering. "He's… looking for Kae," he said quietly, deliberately casual.
"Kae?" Hana's brow furrowed. "I… I haven't seen her since… everything started. She was with us, then she—"
"No one has," Kenta interrupted. "We don't know. But Souta's out there trying to do what he can to fix it.."
The words didn't need to explain the Unknown, or the distortion, or the reality crumbling in on itself. To the classmates, it was enough: he was looking for Kae. That alone justified everything.
A tense silence followed. The wind whistled through twisted stone and shattered sky, carrying dust that stung eyes and lungs alike. A distant tremor rattled the ground — not immediate danger, but a reminder that the world would not wait for them.
Hiro adjusted his cracked glasses, scanning the group. "Then… we find her first," he said. "Kae. She's one of us. And then we reach Souta. We need to move as one, if we want any chance of keeping the group together."
Heads nodded slowly. Agreement wasn't spoken aloud; it was understood in their gazes, in the subtle movements of their bodies leaning forward, bracing for the uneven ground ahead.
Hiro stepped ahead, scanning the horizon. "We stick together. Don't get separated. Keep your eyes open. And when we find her, we catch up with Souta. He's not far, I can feel it."
Each step they took was heavy. Every crack in the earth, every floating shard of rock, every twisted pillar and stream of molten glass reminded them that this was no ordinary search. They were threading their way through a world that had forgotten how to exist, reaching for one of their own in a place that refused to stay in one piece.
Kenta led, eyes sharp, scanning for any sign of movement. Hiro followed closely, adjusting his cracked glasses, breathing shallow and deliberate, as if forcing himself to stay calm in a world that had gone mad.
Then, there was a flicker — something too fast, too precise, too desperate to be just a trick of light. Or more accurately, they spotted a very unstable-looking idiot sprinting through reality like it owed him money.
"There!" Kenta hissed, pointing. "That's him!"
Through the warped terrain, they saw me — Souta. My uniform torn, dust caking my hair and skin, feet kicking up debris as I sprinted. My movements weren't just fast; they were frantic, erratic, pulled along by some inner urgency.
I didn't notice them at first. I ran like the world was ending — because, in a way, it had. My hands twitched at my sides, almost reaching, almost grasping… something no one could see. My breaths came sharp and ragged, carrying the weight of a grief I couldn't speak aloud.
Kenta and Hiro moved faster, shouting my name.
"Souta! Wait!"
I jerked slightly, then kept moving. The urgency in my stride softened only a fraction when I finally saw the familiar faces. Relief, recognition, exhaustion — all collided on my features in an instant. I slowed, staggering, hands falling to my knees as if gravity itself were a challenge.
Hiro approached cautiously, scanning me for injuries. "You… you're okay?"
I looked up, eyes wide, rimmed red. "I… I have to… I need to find him," I gasped with my words spilling over in broken fragments. "I can't… I have to—"
"Wait, who?!" Kenta asked, frowning, though his voice was careful. He didn't want to push, didn't want to break me more than I already was.
I shook his head, breathing hard. "It's… I have to undo this. I can't let it—everything… Kae…"
The name hung in the air, unspoken fully, mysterious, heavy with urgency. The classmates exchanged glances. None of them could see what I was tracking, what invisible thread I was chasing. All they could see was the desperation etched in my movements, the raw determination that had always been part of me.
Kenta placed a firm hand on my shoulder. "Hey. Slow down, you're not alone. We're here."
I blinked, as if realizing that for a moment, I had been running not just against the chaos around me, but alone against the world inside me. My chest heaved, and my gaze softened, just a little, at the sight of familiar faces willing to follow me through the impossible.
Hiro stepped forward. "We'll help. Whatever your 'plan' is, we'll help you."
I nodded. The weight of grief, urgency, and determination pressed down on me, but seeing them there, ready to run into the storm with me — I felt the tiniest spark of resolve flare.
"There's… There's someone I have to find," I repeated, voice steadier now. "This may be our only chance."
Kenta gave a short, firm nod. "Then let's move. We are family, remember?"
"Please do not ever say that again." Hiro replied with immediate effect.
Somehow in the middle of a collapsing world, I almost laughed. And for the first time since the world started tearing itself apart, I had a feeling that hope lives inside all of us.