“Himari-chan!”
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a familiar blue-and-yellow striped scarf, standing out in sharp relief against the monochrome like the beacon of a lighthouse. As I ran toward it, the dark floor moved like a conveyor belt, carrying Himari away as she lay down with her eyes closed, clasping her hands at her chest.
“Wait!” I ran up and touched her pale cheek. She was startlingly cold. “Himari-chan! Himari!”
Again and again, I called her name, pressing both palms to her cheeks to keep her warm. And when I saw my scarf wrapped tightly around her neck, I fought back tears.
“Himari, it’s me. Let’s go home.”
I huddled over her, shielding her face from the falling ice chunks. As I kept calling for her and blocking the ice with my body, her frozen face regained a tiny bit of its color. When I touched her ashen forehead, I found it faintly warm. All at once, the harsh blizzard seemed to melt into peaceful silence.
“Himari.”
Her long lashes fluttered, and she slowly opened her big, round eyes.
“Aah…”
Her cry was high-pitched and wispy, like a baby bird’s. As she stared at me in a daze, I sat back and smiled at her. Then I pulled out the apple I had stowed away in my jacket pocket and offered it to her.
“Let’s share the fruit of fate,” I choked.
There were so many other, better things I could have said instead, like “Now you’ll never have to wait around by yourself ever again” or “Let’s go someplace warmer.” But I didn’t care about anything else—I was just happy she was safe.
“Thank you for choosing me.”
Smiling, Himari took the apple of life and punishment from my hand. It gleamed scarlet, lighting up our faces like a tiny burning sun. Then I grabbed her hand, and from that day forward, she became part of my family.
Kanba wouldn’t join until a short while later.
At a little ramen shop shrouded in the darkness of dusk, Kanba sat at the bright red counter, hunched over with his hands in the pockets of his black military jacket, trying to stave off the cold. Kenzan and Chiemi sat beside him, staring down at themselves quietly. Then, with a hard look on his face, Kenzan straightened his posture.
“Right this very moment, there are countless children turning invisible as we speak. We cannot allow this corrupted world to turn a blind eye to it any longer! That is why we must bring about the Day of Reckoning and purify the world!”
Chiemi gazed at her husband, taking in every word.
“Himari needs money for her medical expenses, and as far as I know, I’m the only one who can save her,” Kanba muttered, his low voice contrasting starkly with his father’s gravitas. “But nothing’s working! No matter how much money I scrape together, Himari’s disease refuses to be cured!”
“We live in a corrupt society, restricted by rules put in place by the greedy,” Kenzan replied, placing a reassuring hand on Kanba’s shoulder.
“Yeah…it’s society’s fault…” With his cold, pink hands, Kanba clutched at his hair. “Or have I been going about it the wrong way?”
“You’ve done nothing wrong, Kanba. I can tell you’re working as hard as you can to protect the family,” Chiemi replied with a smile.
“Please, son. Save Himari from this corrupted world.”
“You’re the only one who can, sweetheart.”
Silently, Kanba looked up.
“I’m proud to have brought you into the Takakura family,” Kenzan declared, exchanging a glance with Chiemi. With a smile, she gently stroked Kanba’s soft, short, messy hair.
“You, Shoma, and Himari—the three of you are our precious children. And our precious future.”
Himari stood in the kitchen with Penguin No. 3, getting dinner ready for when her brothers came home. With her long hair tied in pigtails, she watched over her simmering pot with a contented smile.
“Good thing we had all the ingredients to make cream stew. It’s cold out there.”
Then No. 3 attempted to nibble at the roux brick.
“Stop that, San-chan! It’s not ready yet!”
Himari snatched the rectangular brick, reminiscent of a bar of white chocolate, out of the penguin’s little flippers. Then she narrowed her eyes and gave her best evil laugh.
“The waters are boiling, just as planned. Now, let us add the magic powder imported from a distant land… Yes, it shall bubble like white-hot lava!”
As she broke off pieces of the roux brick and slowly added them to the pot, she giggled at her own silly performance.
“I hope Sho-chan and Kan-chan get home soon,” she sighed, stirring the pot with a ladle. The roux gradually melted, and a gentle scent rose up. “Say, San-chan, wanna be my taste-tester?”
No. 3 jumped up excitedly. With a smile, Himari poured a bit of the stew onto a saucer, crouched down, and handed it to the penguin.
“Remember, it’s hot, so be careful.”
No. 3 obediently blew the steam from the liquid, then downed it with such force, it nearly swallowed the whole saucer.
“What do you think? Is it good?”
The penguin blushed happily. Himari beamed back.
“I’m gonna add some salt and pepper and give it a little more time to simmer, and then it’ll be ready!” She scooped No. 3 into her arms and gave it a nuzzle. “There’s lots and lots, so have as much as you want, okay?”
Not to suggest that she wasn’t a tiny bit worried, but right now, all she could do was wait for her family to come home. It felt like the right thing to do.
“I wonder if they’ll notice I added more embroidery to the curtains.”
Three new stars now were sewn into the fabric near the top. As she stood on the sofa, swiftly working her needle in and out, it occurred to her just how important it was to stay focused at a time like this.
Over the course of her life spent in and out of hospitals, there were many times that she found herself paralyzed from overthinking. In those cases, the most effective options were either to go to sleep or to concentrate on some other task. This applied to anything from contemplating her own mortality to thinking about romance or the future.
To Himari, family was very important. To that end, there were times when she needed to turn her brain off and stop thinking altogether.