They say that at the moment of death, a person’s life flashes before their eyes. If that was the case, Amano Yukinari thought he really was going to die.
A whole host of memories were blinking in and out at the back of his mind. Fragmentary memories, constantly flashing, with no surrounding context. There were even several events that Yukinari himself had almost forgotten.
Like when he went to see his first movie with his older sister, which for some reason was an old-fashioned Western.
Like when his mother pulled a kitchen knife on his father after he criticized her for pouring money into religion.
Like when he waited alone in the waiting room for his sister’s eye surgery to be over.
Like when he stayed up all night fiddling with the model gun he bought by saving up his pocket money.
Like when his sister baked a big apple pie for his birthday.
Like when he accidentally stepped on his sister’s glasses and apologized over and over.
The memories seemed to go on forever.
Mu-gen-hou-ei. Dreams, illusions, bubbles, shadows.
It is a word that describes the lives of human beings in retrospect: transient and short, like bubbles rising to water’s surface and popping. This was especially true for Yukinari.
Sixteen years wasn’t long for a human to live, and Yukinari hadn’t thought of his life as one rich with ups and downs. But even so, as he stood only moments away from crossing the boundary between life and death, countless scenes crossed his mind, one after another.
This was surprising. Perhaps his life had left a comparatively deep, emotional impression on his memory, even if he hadn’t been too aware of it. He had believed he’d gone through life not caring about too much—aside from his sister. Maybe, in the depths of his consciousness, something akin to a survival instinct was loath to relinquish the future that was in the process of being lost.
But before long, the remembrances passing through his mind connected back up to the final scene. That is—
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He remembered the vermillion of the flames blanketing his vision. Light and heat that would soon consume everything. It was the period, struck with fatal force, at the end of Amano Yukinari’s life. Whether he looked left or right, the flames stood as a blockade, as if to tell him that this was the end of the road.
It was a house fire. He didn’t know what had caused it. Was it an accident, caused by some old appliance catching fire? Or was it arson? It couldn’t have been that he’d forgotten to turn off the gas or been careless in putting something out. All the cooking equipment in the house worked on induction heating, and neither Yukinari nor his sister smoked. It couldn’t have been his parents, as they rarely came home in the first place.
No, none of that mattered anymore. There was only one thing that did.
“Sis!” he yelled out. His outstretched hand was far from reaching beyond the flames. Even if he had been able to reach, it wasn’t as though it would have achieved anything, now that he was surrounded by flames on every side. Even so, he couldn’t help but to reach out. He couldn’t have cared less about himself. But his sister—Hatsune had to be saved.
“Yuki...”
Her form swayed beyond the flames with an out-of-place smile on her face. Had she come to peace with her fate, or had some part of her mind broken from so much fear and despair? Or maybe she was crying. Her glasses were clouded with smoke and heat, and it was difficult to make out her eyes.
The distance to her couldn’t have been more than two meters, but it felt terribly far. The air burned Yukinari’s lungs as he gasped for breath, and his legs were so shaky, they could give way at any moment. It would be impossible to escape from here now. No, even if they were miraculously rescued at this very moment, it would still be too late. Yukinari’s body wouldn’t hold out until the hospital. He already felt no pain from touching the flames; only the feeling of “heat” remained, burned in his consciousness.
“Yuki...” His sister extended both of her hands toward him.
“Hatsune...” Yukinari stretched his scorched hand further.
His consciousness, blurring in the heat, slowly gave itself over to resignation. Couldn’t he at least reach her hand...? If they couldn’t be saved, he wished to at least hold hands with her so they could stay close to one another. Even if their deaths were unavoidable now... if he could die together with the sister he loved, it would at least be the smallest of consolations.
His trembling fingers desperately clawed at red nothingness. And the next moment—
The burning ceiling fell down. Ruthless reality bore down upon them, thoroughly incinerating and crushing his wish so small that it couldn’t even have been called a hope. Confronted by the sight of despair itself, Yukinari screamed—
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“Sis!”
✦ ✦ ✦
Yukinari shouted himself awake.