After about fifteen straight hours of walking, we finally arrived at the seafloor station on the Aomori side, the first decently lit area in over twenty kilometers. At long last, we were out of the service tunnel—but now we’d be forced to walk uphill along the tracks again for the final leg of the journey. It was definitely going to suck, but at least it meant the exit was finally within reach.
Akira and I found a bench attached to a nearby wall and sat down. The station on this end of the tunnel was pretty reminiscent of the one on the Hokkaido side. You could definitely tell that it had still been in use as a tourist attraction until a few years back.
I set my backpack on the floor and lay flat on the bench. I was pretty beat. As the urge to drift off to sleep crept up on me, I found myself unable to think straight anymore. I checked my watch and saw that it was now almost exactly 11:00 p.m.
“You wanna just sleep here tonight?” I asked Akira. She was sitting with an awkward posture that couldn’t have been good for her back.
“Nope,” she said. “I wanna get the hell outta here ASAP.”
This response came immediately, and I could tell from the tone of her voice—and the way she was glaring fiercely at the opposite wall—that her mind was made up before I even asked the question.
“Then I take it…you don’t wanna sleep at all until then?” I asked.
“Nope.”
There were still a good ten kilometers left before we reached the exit. It wasn’t impossible for us to get there without sleeping, but I just wasn’t sure it was that imperative that we push our bodies so hard—harder than was probably advisable.
“I dunno… Feel like that might be pretty rough…”
“Of course it’s gonna be rough,” said Akira, scooting back on the bench to lean fully against the backrest. “But pushing yourself through something rough is better than just sitting around and suffering without doing anything about it. And I don’t wanna spend one more second than I have to in this stupid place.”
“…All right. Let’s keep going, then.”
We rested for about twenty minutes, then jumped down onto the tracks.
If there was one thing I’d learned since we set foot in the tunnel, it was that your legs typically gave out before your energy did. It wasn’t exhaustion that made you want to stop—it was the cramping. And the chafing. Not to mention the muscle pain.
…Okay, maybe it’s not fair to compare three to one like that. But hey, same difference!
All of that to say: My knees had been screaming in agony for a long, long time now. And not just my knees either—my soles, my calves, and my thighs were killing me as well. It felt like every joint in both my legs had gone stiff and was creaking like rusty hardware.
I was also so tired now, I thought I might pass out on the spot. My eyes were bleary, and I’d nearly tripped and fallen several times already—but each time, I got a sudden, icy jolt of adrenaline as my body instinctively jerked me upright again.
There was no small talk happening at this point. Both Akira and I had expended all of our excess energy reserves and were now focused single-mindedly on one thing and one thing alone: putting one foot in front of the other. This was, without question, the most I’d ever walked in a single day in my entire life.
Every once in a while, I’d look back over my shoulder to make sure Akira was still following me. With how exhausted we both were, I wouldn’t be too surprised if she collapsed at some point and my weary mind was too dazed to even hear her fall. But as of right now, she was still following behind me—even if her manner of walking had now devolved all the way into “hobbling zombie” territory.
I wanted to believe that we were getting close to the exit by now. I had to believe it, or else I knew my legs would refuse to take another step. And unlike the service tunnel, there were no metal plates on the wall here to let us know exactly how far we were from the next landmark. I had only my gut to rely on—but my gut was telling me we were getting pretty damn close. And yet, I could feel my consciousness rapidly growing hazier due to fatigue and exhaustion.
Which reminded me: I often had a recurring nightmare that was a bit like this. One in which I just kept walking and walking through a dark, spooky cave until I inevitably collapsed of exhaustion without even coming close to the exit—and then I’d wake up.
I couldn’t help but wonder sometimes if maybe this was all just a bad dream too. Not just walking through the Seikan Tunnel but also staying the night in the elementary school, and the whole timefreeze situation in general. Maybe I’d suddenly wake up at some point to find myself back in the middle of my class field trip.
That last thought probably scared me most of all.
Yes, living in a world where time had stopped was inconvenient. We couldn’t use our phones, let alone a computer. Hell, we couldn’t even watch a movie to keep ourselves entertained. So many of the little luxuries we’d taken for granted in our daily lives were either no longer available to us or were so much more difficult that they might as well have been. And yet, for as long as time stayed frozen, I wouldn’t have to suffer through my stupid class trip again, let alone go back to school. I wouldn’t have to be a bother or a nuisance to any of my other classmates. For a social misfit like me, not all of the timefreeze’s effects were completely detrimental or undesirable.
But for Akira, it was different. She was obviously struggling pretty hard to cope with the situation. I assumed she would do whatever it took, no matter how hard, if it meant time would move forward again. If not, she probably wouldn’t have even considered trying to traverse the Seikan Tunnel like this. My selfish comfort in escapism was far, far less valid and noble than her desire to keep pressing onward no matter the odds. The least I could do for her was reject this reality too—and if this really was a dream, then I had a responsibility to put an end to it as soon as possible.
Yet in my heart of hearts, I did kind of hope that time would remain frozen at least until we made it to Tokyo. That was my one, petty little wish—ashamed as I was to admit it.
“Hm?” I mumbled.
Just up ahead, I could see a source of light that looked almost like a tiny star. It grew bigger and bigger the closer we got. And this was not just artificial light, like from one of the seafloor stations. It was a soft, white light carved out in an elliptical shape.
That was it. That was the exit.
“Hey, look at that!” said Akira, apparently having noticed it too. Her voice was dripping with elation.
We picked up the pace for this final stretch, spurring our battered bodies forward like our lives depended on it. As the light grew brighter and brighter, it wasn’t long before we no longer needed our flashlights at all. I could feel the dank humidity in the air begin to dissipate, until finally…
“We made it!”
At long last, Akira and I were now gazing upon a pale blue sky for the first time in a whole entire day. I took a deep, gasping breath like a diver breaching the surface after a long, long time underwater. God, the fresh air tasted so good. I felt liberated, like a heavy weight had just been lifted from my shoulders. I couldn’t even be mad about the harsh glare of the sun in my eyes right now.
The tunnel let out into a wide, open area—but if you looked far enough, you could see some distant woods and even the sea. I spotted a small collection of homes lining the coast; it seemed it shouldn’t be too far to the nearest town.
“God, that took forever…” Akira groaned, then plopped flat on her butt and threw her head back, looking straight up at the sky. I took another deep breath to fill my lungs with the delicious taste of fresh, outside air once more. And as I did, I noticed that one particular patch of trees in the distant woods was dyed a deep shade of crimson.
Right, how could I forget?
Our journey began in Hokkaido’s bitter chill, so it had nearly slipped my mind.
We were right in the heart of autumn.