Chapter 49 “Repairing History (The 365-Day Dream Map and the Sea of Life)”
Morning had arrived.
Soft sunlight filtering through the brilliantly colored resin walls dyed the interior of the small floating home (dome) in pale rainbow hues once again today. Beyond the resin walls‚ as always‚ the merciless winter wind continued to slowly caress the bottomless sea of mud. The barren gray world remained unchanged in every way.
And yet. Only inside this sealed cocoon was filled with the same certain body heat and gentle scent as yesterday. The magnetic engine hummed with a low‚ calm drive‚ and the porous water purification device marked quiet water sounds. The hands of a newly built clock‚ controlled by no one’s system (god)‚ began slowly marking the timeline once more today.
——The second day of the festival (Day 2).
“Good morniiiing!”
Flapping the hem of my oversized white T-shirt like a dress‚ I dashed straight toward the “field (patch).”
“Good morning!”
In the middle of the scrap table. A modest swelling of earth that everyone had repaired (repaired) from the mud with their combined wisdom. I pressed my face as close as I could to the soil surface that showed no change at all.
“Still sleeping‚ huh.”
The earth remained silent. The exact same silent status as yesterday. Even so.
“Sleep plenty‚ okay?”
With my only free right hand‚ I affectionately stroked the soil’s blanket. “You’re going to grow extra-special big and strong!”
That prayer-like whisper alone softly melted into the pure morning air.
“...You’re doing it again.”
A voice tinged with exasperation came from behind. Turning around‚ Rin-chan‚ with her sleep-tousled black hair roughly raked by one hand‚ stood with arms crossed in a slightly ill-fitting white T-shirt‚ pretending to be in a bad mood.
“You said the same thing yesterday‚ and the day before that.”
“Yeah!” I nodded vigorously with a full smile. “I pray every day for the sprouts to come out!”
“A plant’s growth clock is uniquely defined solely by accumulated temperature and water volume. There’s no way parameters would fluctuate from non-logical audio data like greetings.”
“They do change!” “They don’t.” “What matters is love! Rin-chan’s logic (rules) is so cold!” “Hmph. As if love recovers life’s HP‚ idiot.”
On the transport sled listening to that heartwarming exchange‚ Momiji-chan was affectionately trembling her slender shoulders.
“Fufu...”
A gentle laugh like a spring breeze melting frozen winter snow. “A plant that gets talked to that much every day must be happy‚ right‚ Nagisa-chan?”
“Right?!”
Protecting my immobile left arm (marshmallow)‚ I proudly puffed out my white chest with an “ahem.” “Plants have hearts (cores) too‚ you know!”
“Plants don’t have hearts.” “They do!” “They don’t.” “They absolutely do!” “Idiot Nagisa.” “Ehehe!”
We laughed out loud together again. Just that alone made this sealed cocoon feel a little wider than the infinite universe.
At that moment.
“Good morning‚ everyone.”
A clear‚ tranquil voice filled the air of the dome. It was Haru-kun. Today again‚ carefully holding a waxed waterproof notebook to his chest‚ wrapped in matching white clothes‚ he smiled gently.
“Good morniiing!” “Good morning.” “Good morning.”
The four morning greetings softly reflected off the brilliantly colored resin walls.
Just a few days ago. Even these words of awakening had been nothing more than confirmation of the miracle of having survived today’s timeline. But now it was different. Today’s was—an ordinary “good morning” that we could believe would be exchanged at the same temperature tomorrow‚ and the day after.
The breakfast menu remained the same as always. Inorganic‚ hard compressed biscuits evenly distributed from Haru-kun’s hands. Receiving them‚ the four of us sat cross-legged around the usual awkward table as always.
One bite. Crunch.
A dry‚ hard fragment sound echoed small inside the sealed cocoon. There was still nothing to stimulate the sense of taste.
“Today is...” munch munch. “Cheesecake flavor!”
When I declared energetically‚ Rin-chan immediately shot back a retort.
“What’s with the bug in your taste sensors. No matter how you calculate it‚ it’s just dry‚ crumbling carbohydrates.”
“Eeeh! Rin-chan‚ try completely emulating extra-special chocolate flavor in your heart too!”
“As if I would‚ single-celled escapist from reality.”
On the transport sled‚ Momiji-chan again affectionately made a sound deep in her throat.
“Fufu... Nagisa-chan’s world gets overwritten with a different flavor every morning.”
“Yeah!” Happily bouncing my fluffy blue hair. “Having different logs every day is what makes it fun!”
At that casual remark‚ the fingertips gripping Haru-kun’s pencil suddenly froze as if time had stopped.
Every day‚ different. A new today that had stepped over yesterday’s despair. An unseen tomorrow linked by today’s light. We could already exchange words under the major premise that “tomorrow will come.” How miraculous a reversal (hacking) that ordinary everyday life was.
His gray eyes quietly turned to the center of the scrap table. The modest swelling of earth that still showed no change. No signs of sprouting. No visible updates of any kind.
Even so‚ a solid constant of “reassurance” had taken root there. That gentle pulse of daily life filled the brilliantly colored dome completely.
Haru-kun quietly opened the waterproof notebook on his lap. He turned the page of “Day 1” that he had newly established yesterday after clearing the despair line graph with his own hands. Then he gazed at the next page‚ so pure white it seemed ready to swallow him in.
He gripped the pencil again. But—.
“............”
No matter what‚ he couldn’t write the characters.
This day called today was not an extension of cold survival costs consumed merely to get through deletions. The morning of the second day (Day 2) crowned with a 365-day festival. A true dawn connecting to the timeline of the future.
That was why—. What unique history should he first write at the top of this pure white page? In his calculation domain‚ that one-and-only answer still hadn’t been found.
After finishing breakfast‚ calm quiet returned once more to the brilliantly colored cocoon. In the slowly flowing time‚ there was no longer any need to be hurried by anything. In the middle of the awkward table‚ a silver vessel filled with pure water for the newly repaired field gently rippled its surface. A faint scent of earth gently filled the air inside the dome like a premonition of spring.
Haru-kun sat by the window and spread the waxed waterproof notebook on his lap.
Parari‚ a dry paper sound burst. The first history he had newly carved yesterday opened.
“Day 1——365-day festival.”
“Today is the first day of living longer than the world.”
The still-new pencil marks‚ illuminated by the slanting light‚ gently flickered silver.
“............”
Haru-kun remained motionless like a sculpture‚ pencil in hand. Until yesterday there had been no room for hesitation. Required water volume‚ remaining supplies‚ survival probability‚ environmental debuffs‚ rainfall predictions. He only needed to write the “numbers” necessary to survive today’s timeline.
But it was different now. He no longer needed to doubt that tomorrow would come. That was why—for him who had observed the world only through statistical model numbers‚ he didn’t know what to draw on the blank future.
“...It’s difficult.”
A mutter leaked with the breath he exhaled.
“What are you struggling with‚ Haru?”
Rin-chan tilted her head from the collar of her slightly ill-fitting white T-shirt and peeked in.
“The constant of three hundred sixty-five days.”
Haru-kun smiled a little troubled‚ yet somehow happily‚ and dropped his gaze to the notebook. “Until yesterday‚ I was only calculating the ‘one step ahead’ of whether we could get past today. But once I’m handed a year’s worth of freedom... I can’t find the starting point for calculation at all‚ of what to define first.”
At that overly serious worry‚ Momiji-chan sitting on the transport sled softly swayed her sunset-like red hair and smiled shyly.
“...A year‚ huh.”
Her sunset-like eyes turned beyond the window. As far as the eye could see‚ barren gray. Over that void‚ the merciless winter wind continued to slowly pass.
“It’s endlessly long.”
It was just those words. Yet that whisper resonated strangely gently to the eardrums‚ as if melting frozen time. A vast timeline that we‚ until yesterday‚ would have mistakenly believed forever out of reach.
“When spring comes.”
Momiji-chan pointed with her porcelain fingertips to the modest swelling of earth and continued quietly. “This child might stretch a small sprout up to the ground.”
“Yes.”
Haru-kun nodded deeply. “Considering the accumulated temperature simulation‚ that germination period is sufficiently logical.”
“When summer comes.”
This time Rin-chan crossed her arms and lightly tugged at the baggy white fabric she was wearing. “We’ll sew some clothes that can block direct sunlight a bit better. Staying in these matching ones forever makes body temperature regulation thermally inefficient.”
“Autumn!”
Unable to hold back‚ I thrust my only free right hand high to the sky. “We’re holding an extra-special deluxe harvest festival!”
Dazzling laughter burst against the brilliantly colored resin walls. Gazing affectionately at that smile‚ Momiji-chan again muttered small‚ as if embedding a prayer.
“When winter comes.”
A voice clear as a water droplet‚ endlessly gentle.
“I want the four of us to huddle together and drink that warm soup again.”
A calm silence flowed inside the sealed cocoon. Because the scene Momiji-chan had spun floated so naturally and beautifully into the chests of all four at once.
Steam gently rising from the soup. Bursting laughter. The beloved warmth transmitted from the empty-can bowls. White breath warming chilled fingertips. And—the usual dining table surrounded in matching white clothes.
A cycle that had not yet arrived. An unknown future that did not yet exist. Even so‚ no one doubted it. It wasn’t a probability calculated from computations; it was an “ordinary schedule (timeline)” that the four of us would go to meet from now on.
Haru-kun quietly gazed at the profiles of the three precious people.
Spring. Summer. Autumn. Winter.
To him‚ the future was the names of the seasons not yet seen themselves.
A little certain willpower returned to the fingertips gripping the pencil. The next page of the waterproof notebook spread on his lap was still pure white. Yet strangely‚ no impatience existed in his chest.
For the time to stack the continuation of this beloved history—there was still plenty‚ luxuriously remaining for them.
“Hey!”
The first to break that calm air was‚ as expected‚ me.
“If we have a whole year! What should we all do!”
For a moment. All three froze with slightly widened eyes.
“What... do you mean?”
Haru-kun tilted his head curiously‚ swaying his ash-silver wavy hair.
“Yeah!”
I nodded big. “There are three hundred sixty-five days! Then that timeline‚ we have to enjoy it with full power or it’s a waste of the extra-special deluxe!”
“Not ‘enjoy.’”
Rin-chan immediately interjected. “Survive.”
“Play with full power while surviving!”
From the morning‚ our logic was endlessly peaceful today too. After a burst of dazzling laughter settled the space. From the transport sled‚ Momiji-chan smiled softly.
“That’s right‚ Nagisa-chan.”
Her voice was soft like a spring breeze melting frozen winter snow. “If we have that much time...”
She swayed her eyes just a little thoughtfully‚ truly modestly.
“I want to make a flower field.”
It was a quiet‚ endlessly sacred dream.
“A flower field?”
My eyes sparkled in brilliant colors.
“Yes.”
Momiji-chan nodded small and gazed at the inorganic sea of mud spreading outside the window. “Not just to stave off hunger. Not as fuel for survival. Just... planting flowers for the reason that they’re beautiful.”
No one could immediately respond to those words.
Not for eating. Not for surviving. Nurturing plant life solely for the reason that it’s beautiful. In this initialized world system‚ it was a dream so extravagantly luxurious it made one’s head spin‚ and so human it was almost maddening.
“That’s nice.”
Rin-chan muttered. “A flower field‚ huh.”
But immediately she put a fearless smile on her lips and re-crossed her arms still through the sleeves of the white T-shirt.
“Then I’ll repair this floating home (scrap) into a perfect super-dreadnought ship.”
“A ship?”
“Yeah. With the current patchwork structure‚ thermal efficiency and mobility are logically way too bad.”
Her black eyes straightly fixed on the coordinates of a future not yet seen. “I’ll build the best propulsion propellers and rudder‚ and create a stronger ship that can go to the ends of the world. ...So we can freely come and go anywhere on this sea of mud.”
It was a solid dream fitting for a proud mechanic. Not flashy fantasy at all. Yet it was definitely real propulsion that would carry us to tomorrows not yet seen.
“What about you‚ Haru-kun?”
I leaned forward and asked. “What do you want to do‚ Haru-kun?”
“Me...?”
A little taken aback‚ he pointed to his own chest.
“Yes! Anything’s fine! There are three hundred sixty-five days!”
Haru-kun sank a little into the sea of thought. Truly long and quietly‚ he circled through his own calculation domain.
And then.
“...Once more.”
A hoarse voice spilled. “I want to return to that last observation station of humanity.”
The four gazes quietly converged on him.
“There are still... records sleeping there that we couldn’t fully recover.”
His gray eyes wavered a little earnestly. “How this world system lived‚ and how it met its end. I want to leave all of that... as official history with these hands.”
It was a tranquil wish resembling a prayer. Not a hero’s dream of saving someone’s life. Not for his own gain. For history. For the future. It was the pride of a kind-hearted observer who had come to love not cold numbers but “the lived trajectories of humans‚” just like him.
“That’s nice!”
I couldn’t help blooming a full smile. “Let’s definitely go‚ all of us!”
“Yes.”
Haru-kun also swayed his wavy hair a little and loosened his lips bashfully.
“Then!”
This time the three gazes locked onto me all at once. Momiji-chan asked‚ sparkling her sunset-like eyes. “What do you want to do‚ Nagisa-chan?”
“Of course!”
With my moving right hand I made a strong guts pose and puffed out my white chest as proudly as possible.
“Eat extra-special deluxe meals until my stomach’s full! Soak in hot water that warms me to the core! Sleep soundly in a fluffy futon... and at the end‚ eat a big parfait!”
Everyone stopped moving for a moment.
Because in the selfishness Nagisa had spun was crystallized all the “everyday” that everyone had taken for granted before the world sank‚ that was most beloved‚ and that had somehow been lost.
“...In the end‚ it’s just the black hole of your stomach.”
Rin-chan sighed in exasperation. Yet her black eyes were endlessly kind. “But yeah. That’s something we absolutely have to reclaim with our logic (rules).”
“Ehehe!”
Inside the sealed cocoon‚ today’s brightest dazzling laughter pleasantly burst and scattered.
It was then. Haru-kun suddenly dropped his gaze quietly to the waterproof notebook on his lap. Endlessly pure white. A blank page still defined by nothing. The unexplored page where just earlier he had stopped his fingertips not knowing how to write the first characters.
But. Now‚ he could derive the answer.
Softening his gray eyes‚ he quietly gripped the pencil again.
Sarari—.
In the middle of the pure new page‚ he carved characters with a little certain pressure.
“Things to do in 365 days”
The moment those characters entered my eyes‚ they sparkled brilliantly.
“Waaa! Our dream map!”
Dream map.
At that innocent remark‚ the hand Haru-kun had been running suddenly stopped. Swaying his wavy hair a little bashfully‚ he slowly nodded‚ “...That’s right.”
“This is.”
He gently gazed at the waxed notebook as if handling something fragile. “Not just a survival plan for life extension. Our...”
A calm yet conviction-filled voice.
“Life’s schedule (timeline).”
No one tried to layer the next words on that. A beautiful silence as the air in the dome warmly calmed. Because no extra words were needed at all anymore.
In the records until yesterday‚ there had only been the remnants of cold numbers we had carved away from each other so as not to lose tomorrow. But on the pages from today on.
The beautiful flower field Momiji-chan cherishes. The free super-dreadnought ship Rin-chan will create. The promised observation station where Haru-kun will leave the world’s footprints. The warm everyday scenery I had always longed for.
And—countless beloved futures that the four of us will fulfill from now on while wearing the same clothes and sharing the same body heat.
It was no longer an observation log merely for getting through ending despair. It was the most beautiful dream map in the world named “life‚” for the four of us to walk humanly toward tomorrows not yet seen.
The first page of the dream map was quietly filled. On the blank future page‚ the beautiful flower field‚ the free ship‚ the promised observation station‚ the lost everyday scenery—all were lined up as equal assets. Not a single one had been fulfilled yet. Yet there was a strange conviction. The arrangement of characters carved there reflected in our eyes like “schedules we will definitely go to meet someday.”
“Ehehe.”
With happily slackened cheeks‚ I adjusted the hem of my white T-shirt with my only free right hand and walked to the window.
The outside world beyond the brilliantly colored resin walls. The bottomless sea of mud was still desolate gray as far as the eye could see today. Yet that water surface filled with the colors of death no longer looked like as frightening a threat as before. Perhaps because it had touched the four body heats‚ it felt as if it had been overwritten with a slightly gentler‚ calmer lull.
“Hey.”
I brought my forehead close to the cold resin wall. “I wonder if there are still fish-san or something hiding somewhere?”
“There’s no way...”
Rin-chan snorted in exasperation. “In that strongly acidic sludge—”
Having spun that far. Her thoughts froze solid.
“...Wait.”
A low‚ blade-like single word. That alone quietly tensed the air of the sealed cocoon.
“Rin-chan?”
Her jet-black eyes remained fixed without the slightest movement on one point of the sea of mud. Slowly‚ truly heavily‚ the right hand extending from the white T-shirt cuff pointed outside the window.
“...What is that.”
Everyone’s gazes chased her fingertip all at once.
Gray sky. Winter-colored wind. And—.
One.
A small silver-white shadow was circling the lead-colored sky while drawing a large arc.
“...!”
I couldn’t help catching my breath deep in my throat. “That...!” Stretching my only free right hand as far as I could as if sticking to the window glass. “The one flapping in the sky! Isn’t that a bird-san?!”
The white seabird spread both wings as if entrusting its body to the cold winter wind‚ quietly drawing beautiful circles. It did not flap. It was simply accurately reading the atmospheric flow. As if it had known from the beginning that this sea of mud existed there.
“...Seabird.”
Haru-kun muttered small in a hoarse voice.
In that instant. His gray eyes transformed all at once into the color of the former frozen‚ cold-hearted observer.
“Haru-kun?”
There was no longer a reply to the call. He opened the waterproof notebook on his lap as if snatching it and began running the pencil at furious speed.
Sarasara‚ sarasara‚ sarasara—!
Staring at the outside weather‚ capturing the silver-white shadow‚ reading the atmospheric flow‚ measuring the wind direction. And again scribbling cold sequences of numbers like mad.
“Cruising altitude‚ turning radius‚ speed‚ vector‚ and wind direction—”
Muttering spell-like monologues‚ Haru-kun began simulating at furious clock speed. At that extraordinary heat‚ Rin-chan too was beginning to notice the true meaning of those variables.
“...Prey‚ huh.”
“Eh?”
“Seabirds‚” Rin-chan muttered while gazing at the lead-colored sky. “Will never appear in a dead sector with no prey‚ even if they stand on their heads.”
Haru-kun looked up vigorously as if struck.
“Exactly‚ Rin-san!”
In that voice was something fiercely hot that had never been heard on the death lines until now.
“The fact that wild seabirds are maintaining their habitat means!”
The fingertips gripping the pencil trembled finely like a warrior’s shiver. “Fish that are predation targets are definitely surviving under this sea of mud! The fact that the fish ecosystem is continuing means—”
He snatched another pure new item and added unknown formulas at tremendous speed.
“It’s proof that vast plankton guaranteeing the life support of the fish are active! If plankton exist‚ the microbial communities in the ocean haven’t stopped functioning either!”
In the quieted dome‚ only the decisive conclusion he had derived resounded powerfully and solemnly.
“In other words!”
A deep breath. Once more‚ he straightly fixed on the silver-white trajectory dancing in the sky.
“Earth’s marine ecosystem... has not completely collapsed!”
Silence. No one tried to layer words. Only the cold winter wind continued to flow quietly outside the resin walls. The white seabird‚ after drawing one last large arc‚ slid away and disappeared far beyond the sea of mud.
“...Yes.”
From the transport sled‚ Momiji-chan smiled gently like a sunlit spot. Her sunset-like eyes narrowed affectionately soft. “The fish-san too... were desperately surviving in that dark bottom.”
That single remark alone proved everything. No one sought further proof by numbers anymore. Life was certainly remaining on this planet.
The world system had ended. The residual heat of civilization had vanished. Humans‚ except for ourselves‚ had almost all disappeared. And yet—the sea was still certainly embracing the cradle of life.
About five seconds. A truly quiet‚ sacred time flowed.
The one who chopped that miraculously beautiful silence into dust as usual was—.
“Grilled fiiiiish!!”
My energetic first cry that seemed ready to pierce the dome’s ceiling. “Sashimi! Fry! Sushi! The opening of the extra-special seafood bowl garden!”
“...Your thought clock.”
Rin-chan pressed her white forehead as if enduring a headache and sighed deeply. “Only has the calculation domain of your stomach?”
“It does!”
I thrust the tip of my right finger sharply into the air and declared proudly. “I properly have the extra-special dream map from earlier too!”
“No‚ eighty percent of the list you had Haru write earlier was constants of carbohydrates and sugar.”
“Wrong! Seventy percent!”
“Either way it’s an out-of-spec bug‚ idiot Nagisa.”
“Ehehe!”
Inside the sealed cocoon‚ the four’s dazzling laughter pleasantly burst and scattered again.
While listening to that lively exchange‚ only Haru-kun once more quietly looked up at the sky beyond the resin walls. The silver-white trajectory had already disappeared beyond the clouds and was no longer visible. Even so‚ solid history was burned into his gray eyes.
“...Birds.”
He muttered as if praying‚ to no one in particular. “Do not lie.”
The three gazes gathered on Haru-kun all at once. He swayed his wavy hair a little and smiled calmly.
“Because all living things never try to live in environments where they cannot live.”
To the world sealed in barren gray‚ a little fresh color was returning. A little‚ the unseen future was drawing closer.
Haru-kun quietly gazed at the calmed sea of mud. And—not as an observer coldly recording extinction‚ but as a single boy who believed in the country called tomorrow‚ he muttered with heartfelt body heat.
“...This sea is no longer.”
One beat. A gentle‚ endlessly clear silence.
“Not a ‘sea of death’ or anything.”
That single remark was a quiet yet absolutely indelible victory declaration of humans‚ writing the first line of new life into the history of a completely ended world.
Night had arrived.
Pale moonlight melting into the brilliantly colored resin walls wrapped the entire small floating home (dome) in a gentle marble pattern. The low humming of the engine. The quiet water sound flowing through the porous water purification device. The sound of the winter wind gently caressing the sea of mud—. All of that‚ which had once been the death throes of the world‚ had now modulated into a pleasant night accompaniment for the four.
“Nfuh...”
Burrowed into the dry cloth sleeping bag‚ I was again slackening my cheeks happily. “Seafood bowl...” Small‚ I tossed and turned. “Fatty tuna... seconds‚ more...”
“Dream-hunting again.”
From beyond the darkness‚ Rin-chan muttered in exasperation. “If you can fill the satiety center with just sleep-talk‚ that’s the highest-efficiency fuel economy possible.”
“Nfuh...”
“Honestly‚ not even the domain to process my retorts.”
On the transport sled listening to that loveless exchange‚ Momiji-chan was softly trembling her slender shoulders with giggles.
“Fufu‚ you really look happy again today‚ Nagisa-chan.”
“Only happiness parameters exist in her brain.”
“But that’s because it’s Nagisa-chan.”
The afterglow of calm laughter quietly spread inside the sealed cocoon. Eventually the two also entrusted their bodies to their respective sleeping bags‚ and the inside of the dome began transitioning to deep silence.
Yet. In one corner by the window‚ a modest light still remained unextinguished.
Haru-kun. He placed the waxed waterproof notebook on his lap and quietly opened its cover.
Parari.
He traced back the paper surfaces that had carved layer upon layer of harsh history with his fingertips. Day 1. Day 2. Day 3. Day 4. Day 5. And—the newly redefined “Day 1 (Festival).” When he reread up to that pure white page‚ his fingertips stopped solid.
“...”
His gray eyes quietly gazed at that log.
If you survived one day‚ the possible survival time decreased by one day. That was why until now he had only repeated “subtraction calculations” every day. How many days remaining. How many more hours this life could be maintained. Always staring only at the moment of erasure (delete).
But it was different now. On this day called today‚ on our dream map‚ a completely different value from the previous despair had been carved.
Haru-kun suddenly smiled small‚ not self-mockingly but with heartfelt warmth.
“I see...”
He muttered to the night’s silence‚ to no one in particular. “Already.”
He gripped the pencil correctly once more.
“The way of counting the data itself was wrong.”
He opened a new blank page still defined by nothing. At its top‚ with quiet but certain pressure‚ he wrote the title of new history.
“Future Dream Map”
Below that. He added just one modest item.
“□ Found a bird”
And—without the slightest hesitation‚ he wrote a check mark proving achievement inside the small square frame.
“☑ Found a bird”
In that instant. Overcome by rising affection‚ Haru-kun couldn’t help bursting into a soft laugh.
“Fu... ahaha.”
A quiet‚ gentle laugh melting into the darkness.
“I see‚ so that’s what it was.”
What he would add to the notebook from now on was not the remaining time until functional stop. It was the number of human-like dreams the four of them fulfilled and stacked up.
If they repaired the patchwork raft into a perfect ship‚ plus one. If beautiful flowers bloomed from the soil‚ plus one. If fish were caught from the sea of mud‚ plus one. If they could hold an extra-special deluxe harvest festival in autumn‚ plus one. Even this day of laughing together without boundaries in matching white clothes—surely an irreplaceable plus one.
The future was not subtraction waiting only for erasure. It was stacking uncertain miracles with one’s own hands like this.
Haru-kun gently set down the pencil and slowly looked up at the night sky beyond the resin walls. The sea of mud as far as the eye could see. The silent barren winter sky. The silver-white trajectory that had struck our chests during the day was no longer visible beyond the clouds.
Even so. Certainly‚ in this initialized world‚ an indelible core of life existed. Under the sea‚ fish were swimming. Beyond the sky‚ birds were dancing. On the scrap table‚ inside the soil cradle‚ a small future (seed) waiting to sprout was quietly sleeping. And—right beside‚ there was precious family with whom we could share body heat.
“Tomorrow.”
A calm smile floated on his profile. “What plus one shall we go fulfill?”
To that modest monologue‚ as if responding right on time.
“Nfuh...”
From beyond the dry cloth sleeping bag‚ the familiar hungry sleep-talk resounded. “Well‚ it can’t be helped... I’ll share just a little with everyone in the one body (team).”‚
One beat.
“But but‚ mine is the extra-special biggest parfait...”
“That’s.”
Haru-kun couldn’t help shaking his shoulders in a wry smile. “Not a future dream map‚ but just an appetite map‚ isn’t it‚ Nagisa-san.”
At that quiet voice‚ even Rin-chan who should have been half-asleep small-burst into laughter in the darkness.
“...No doubt. Still an out-of-spec bug‚ that one.”
On the sled‚ Momiji-chan also gently creaked her exoskeleton (splint) “...kyuu” and they quietly laughed together.
The afterglow of the four’s laughter filled the brilliantly colored resin walls again today and gently resounded throughout the dome.
The warmth contained in this small cocoon would never be recorded as official data anywhere in the world system that had already stopped functioning. But that was fine.
History is not something only vast civilizations or unreasonable gods carve. Laughing together with someone beloved. Someone talking through the night about future dreams. Someone going to sleep with a racing chest looking forward to the country called tomorrow—. The stacking of such casual‚ beloved days one by one is also indelible‚ irreplaceable human history.
Beyond the brilliantly colored resin walls‚ the quiet night wind slowly crossed the sea that held life.
Inside it. A new story of only the four‚ controlled by no one’s rules‚ was again today stacking one page beautifully unknown to anyone.
(Chapter 49 “Repairing History (The 365-Day Dream Map and the Sea of Life)” End)
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