Chapter 13: “Not Going Yet”
The rain showed no sign of stopping‚ slowly and surely sinking the world.
“Guuuu…”
My stomach played the “orchestra of hunger” for the third time today.
The conductor was my stomach‚ and the audience was my cool partner right in front of me—Rin-chan.
“…Annoying. I can’t concentrate.”
“Sorry‚ sorry! But I can’t stop it! This is the automatic alarm of the life-support system!”
(If it’s an automatic alarm… I wish it had a silent mode.)
Where we were now was a former office building‚ half submerged in water.
The place where people once worked now looked like a damp‚ gigantic tombstone.
Cold air clung to our skin‚ and our shoes were in a “perpetual lukewarm bath” state.
(Every step goes “splash‚” and it’s mentally exhausting…)
“Rin-chan‚ look! There! I found the remains of the kitchenette! It’s like a treasure chest in this sinking city!”
I splashed through water up to my knees and ran to the dust-covered counter.
“…Wait‚ Nagisa. The flooring is rotten. Also‚ the smell of old pipes lingers. I can’t say it’s safe.”
(Nagisa sees both a treasure chest and rotten flooring at the same time… incomprehensible.)
Rin-chan examined the kitchenette with her habitual sharp gaze.
Her calmness was truly reliable.
But right now‚ before that judgment‚ my stomach was already at its limit.
Because—
“…Found it. Dried noodles…!”
Behind the counter was a single bag of dried noodles miraculously spared from the flood.
It was a thick‚ sealed commercial pack; the outside was wet‚ but the inside hadn’t been touched by water.
(Thank you‚ world…! You haven’t abandoned us yet…!)
I picked up the dried noodles with trembling hands and turned to Rin-chan.
“Rin-chan…! Dinner is secured for today!”
“…I haven’t checked if it’s edible yet.”
(I really like Rin for never skipping a “quality check” even in this situation.)
The moment I held the dried noodles‚ my chest felt just a little warm.
Even in this apocalyptic world‚ it felt like remembering an old “normal dinner.”
The rain continued to quietly‚ yet surely‚ sink the world.
Amid it‚ we picked up a small “reason to live.”
“Look! Pasta‚ Rin-chan! And even though it’s technically past the expiration date… it should probably be fine!”
When I held up the bag‚ Rin-chan let out a small sigh.
“…That’s not the issue. Even if we have water‚ we don’t have fire. Eating it raw would overwhelm your stomach with your current stamina.”
“No no‚ sweet Rin-chan! If there’s no fire—then we just make one!”
(That idea is the most dangerous.)
I began gathering empty cans scattered around.
Aluminum cans‚ steel cans.
Garbage to normal people‚ but a “civilization restoration kit” to me.
“…I’ll check the pipes. If they connect to the upper-floor water heaters‚ we might secure a minimal heat source.”
Rin-chan pulled an old wrench from her tool bag and faced the rusty gas pipes.
Her profile looked so serious that even the rain seemed distant.
(Rin is really dependable in times like this.)
She lightly tapped the pipe joints and checked the sound.
Her eyebrows furrowed slightly.
“…As I thought. The internal pressure of the pipes leaks at several points. If we ignite the gas‚ it could backflow. I can’t say it’s safe.”
“Don’t say that! Rin-chan‚ you can become a Dark Priest to revive these ‘dying pipes’!”
“…Don’t give me weird titles. I’ll just do what I can.”
(Nagisa’s vocabulary is sometimes truly incomprehensible.)
Rin-chan carefully adjusted the angle of the pipes‚ experimenting to extract heat as safely as possible.
“Nagisa. With that junk‚ create a structure to focus the heat in one point. Even weak heat should warm the water.”
“Understood‚ leader! Watch as I complete my ‘Nagisa-style Ultra-Efficient Sky Stove’!”
(The name is ridiculous.)
I cut holes in the bottom of the cans with a knife to make air vents.
I mobilized all the memories of being praised in crafts class.
Pushing strength into my cold fingers‚ I felt just a little warmth return.
(…Alright. With this‚ I can say I’m “alive” today too.)
As the rain quietly echoed‚ we began a small “cooking battle” in a corner of the sinking city.
“…Okay‚ shut off the main valve‚ and connect this bypass. Nagisa‚ your side?”
“All set! Aluminum foil and wire make a special gasket to prevent gas leaks!”
Our teamwork was flawless‚ even if I say so myself.
Rin-chan “revives” the pipes‚ and I “optimize” with scrap materials.
In a corner of the sinking world‚ our tiny workshop came alive.
“…Opening the gas. Don’t light it all at once. Bring the flame close slowly.”
Rin-chan’s voice trembled slightly.
She always plans for the worst.
Explosion‚ backflow‚ suffocation—
Numbers that reduce survival probability probably quietly lined up in her mind.
(…Even so‚ she’s next to me.)
I connected the gas hose to the stove I made and struck a match.
A dry “shhh” sound.
The next moment‚ a small orange flame appeared.
“…It lit!”
“Reduce the flame. The gas isn’t stable. Adjust until the flame turns blue.”
Rin-chan carefully operated the valve.
I arranged aluminum plates inside the stove to reflect heat and minimize loss.
“Look‚ Rin-chan! The flame is dancing! It’s the dance of life!”
“…It’s just a combustion reaction. But with this structure… the water will boil.”
(Rin’s “but” basically means “amazing.”)
In the cramped kitchenette‚ the sound of small crackles echoed.
The smell of rust and gas mixed into the damp air.
Normally unpleasant‚ but now it was more alluring than any perfume.
(This… smells like life.)
Far away‚ Momiji-chan monitored our vitals.
She was probably smiling quietly in front of the display by now.
“Finally‚ huh.”
I thought I heard that voice.
In this broken world‚ we had won “warmth” with our own hands.
“Alright‚ let’s boil water! The grand pasta party begins!”
I raised my voice.
To blow away anxiety.
To compete with the sound of rain.
Rin-chan exhaled lightly.
“…Don’t give it such a flashy name. But… not bad.”
(Rin’s “not bad” basically means “the best.”)
The flame swayed quietly‚
And the world seemed just a little brighter in the sinking city.
While waiting for the water to boil‚ we gathered around the small flame.
The orange light illuminated Rin-chan’s profile.
In her always calm eyes‚ the flickering flame quietly reflected.
“…Nagisa.”
“Hm? What?”
“…How long do you think this fire will last?”
Rin-chan’s questions were always sharp‚ a little painful.
Normally I’d laugh and say‚ “It’ll be fine!”
But tonight‚ the flame was too beautiful to tell a small lie.
“Gas‚ dried noodles‚ everything will eventually run out.
Even if we keep repairing…
The world is sinking faster.”
Her voice was quieter than the rain.
“…Yeah. But you know‚ Rin-chan‚”
I looked at the uneven stove we had built with our own hands.
The logos on the cans were burnt off‚ blackened with soot.
Still‚ it radiated “living heat.”
“We made this stove.
Even if the world is broken‚ our hands can still move.
Doesn’t that make us… a little invincible?”
(“Invincible” doesn’t fit this world… but I wanted to say it.)
Rin-chan said nothing.
She just leaned a little closer to me.
(…That’s enough.)
Soon the pasta boiled‚ and we shared it.
The only seasoning was a tiny packet of salt we had found.
“…Itadakimasu!”
I took a bite.
Warm.
A gentle heat spread through my stomach.
(Ah… just this is enough to make me happy.)
But I realized something soon.
The pasta was warm‚ but surprisingly flavorless.
Our hunger was satisfied‚
But a cold silence‚ like rainwater seeping in‚ remained in our hearts.
(…I see. Maybe we were only saved for today.)
But that doesn’t guarantee “tomorrow.”
It only postponed today a little.
Still—
(…Still‚ she’s next to me.)
As long as that’s true‚ I felt we need not fear tomorrow too much.
The warmth of the flame transferred over Rin-chan’s shoulder.
In a sinking world‚ that small temperature quietly supported my heart.
“…Thank you for the meal.”
I gently placed the empty bowl—aka the measuring cup—down.
My stomach was full‚ but my fingers trembled slightly.
Not just from the cold.
I had imagined stepping back out into the rain.
“…Let’s clean up and get some sleep. The water level is expected to rise further tomorrow.”
Rin-chan extinguished the stove.
A small click echoed‚ and the kitchenette sank again into pale darkness.
Then it happened.
From far away came a low‚ heavy rumble.
“…A train whistle?”
I looked out the window.
Beyond the curtain of rain—
Where the tracks once were‚ a streak of light slowly passed.
An euthanasia train.
It carried the desperate somewhere else.
A weekend fixture of this city.
We silently watched the light fade.
In our hands was the stove I had made.
Uneven‚ soot-stained‚ ready to break any moment.
But—
(…As long as this exists‚ we don’t need to go yet.)
There’s no reason to board that train anywhere yet.
“…Let’s sleep‚ Nagisa. Tomorrow we have to go to higher ground.”
“Yeah… good night‚ Rin-chan.”
We lay down on the cold floor‚ sharing a single piece of cloth.
Rin-chan’s shoulder barely touched mine.
That alone quietly marked the end of today.
Closing my eyes‚ the sound of rain enveloped the world.
The endless falling water slowly eroded the contours of the sinking city.
(…Tomorrow too‚ I can walk with Rin-chan.)
That small certainty alone‚
Flickered faintly beyond the dark ceiling.
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