Somehow, I ended up holding Rhone’s hand as we stepped out onto the deck. It was so warm, so comfortable, I didn’t want to let go. If the others saw us, they might give me odd looks—but I decided I didn’t care.
Outside, a frightening chill swept over me. The sky was blinding, and no one seemed to have the luxury to notice us.
We stood a short distance away from the others, near the port-side railing where everyone was holding on.
“What… is that?”
“Someone’s homeland. This ship is passing by someone’s homeland right now. And on every ship around it, there are people just like you.”
Sure enough, in the direction of Rhone’s gaze, a small island was visible. Only small-looking—perhaps it was actually quite large. Countless ships surrounded it.
Lightning rained down directly over the island. It was really falling like rain. The thunder I’d heard earlier inside the ship must have been from strikes that veered off course, landing close to us instead.
“What’s he… doing?”
Our Harvester stood firm at the bow, the metal bow-like weapon he’d called a “gun” cradled at his side.
“You know how the hearts that aren’t chosen burn at sea after the selection? He’s watching out for the birds that come for them.”
He meant those giant cranes that hunted the hearts—beautiful hearts scattered on the waves, devoured by vile creatures.
“…We’re waiting for those hearts too? This ship runs on hearts, doesn’t it?”
That’s right. Picking up hearts already floating in the sea is relatively safe, but retrieving one right after the selection is not so easy. That’s why he watches for birds, while I handle the recovery.
The gentle expression on Rhone’s face glowed gold in the setting sun, edged in the white of lightning, as if it might dissolve into the sky.
“Speaking of which, what did you do with those people who died on your ship? …Did you burn them for fuel?”
“No. I returned them to the sea. By now, they’re either burning beautifully on the surface or already recovered by some other ship. We can’t use our own passengers as fuel.”
I noticed water streaming down Rhone’s face and realized the rain had grown heavier.
“That island suits rain. Snow and mist have given way to let the rain have its time. So, which would you choose? For your final moment in this world—would you run through rain? Snow? Or call for the blazing sun?”
The sunset lit his eyes with colors I had no name for.
“I… want snow to come for me.”
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“I see. Pure white snow… it suits your loneliness.”
His soft voice sank quietly into my chest.
“Soon, the world will turn upside down.”
“What?”
“No, for now… just watch. Look at the faces of the people you loved, and the friends who traveled with you. Even if you can’t take the memories to the next world, carve them deep into your soul, where even memory itself doesn’t reach.”
I didn’t understand—and I didn’t like how he spoke as if it were certain I’d be the one to go.
My eyes turned to Aochi and Oomi—the two who weren’t supposed to be chosen—and I was dazzled. Rain beaded on their hair, their faces, their lashes, their eyes, their fingertips, scattering the sunset in bursts of light that shook with every movement, every breath, as if the droplets had wills of their own.
“It’s like the sunset is alive around them.”
No painting, no photograph, no one’s imagination could hold this—this light that was mine alone.
Rhone said nothing, only nodded with a sad smile.
I wondered what the two of them were talking about. Did they understand what was happening? I couldn’t step between them, but I wanted to keep watching.
Mamor was right at Aochi’s feet, clinging to him despite being utterly ignored. It was so earnest it made me want to cry.
Whoever killed him, I wished I’d died instead. I meant it.
Kaori-san and the silent girl stood a little apart, gazing at the storm-wracked island.
They were both beauties in very different ways. The silent girl had deep-set features, large light-brown eyes, a foreign look to her—perhaps made stronger by her silence. I thought her coat looked familiar—wasn’t that the Kaori-san’s winter coat? A bright orange one. She must have taken it from the Harvester’s room. That place really was strange.
Earlier, the silent girl had been wearing what looked like a set of complimentary sleepwear, so it suited her well.
As for Kaori-san—just a suit jacket. How could she not be cold?
I’d always preferred her type. Her understated beauty, the winter-morning air of dignity that wouldn’t tolerate coddling… And those moments when she smiled at me reminded me of touching cold snow that melted at my fingertips as a child, and it moved me deeply.
I’d met my ideal again, only to be torn away without a chance to show her I’d grown, like waking from a dream when morning came.
The sight of the sunset streaming through her straight hair hurt, and I squeezed Rhone’s hand.
“It’s scary, isn’t it? I’m worried about this one too.”
Over Rhone’s shoulder, Ululu appeared. He must have been hiding from the lightning, and now, too afraid to be alone on the ship, he’d slipped out. What a cute one.
“You mean you’re worried about Ululu because you’ll have to choose?”
“I’m not the one who chooses. I think Kaori-san and Mamoru-kun have realized this already, but I wasn’t the one who killed my passengers. It was… closer to suicide.”
“There’s ‘closer to’ or ‘further from’ suicide?”
I was serious, but Rhone only smiled.
“You know better than I do. You’ve thought about the same thing plenty of times yourself. The only difference is that we no longer have tomorrow. Someone has to disappear, and they gave up their place to the silent girl.”
“Uluu…”
The red of Ululu’s body flared vividly in the lightning. How could such a beautiful red be born on this ship?
“I think this one’s true nature is ‘conscience.’ That’s why I want to take him to the next world. Do you think losing him right after he’s born would make the grief shallower? Maybe. But I know I’d be sad for the rest of my life.”
“But… you can only take one, right? Don’t tell me you’re also—”
Before I could finish, before I could ask if he was planning to sacrifice himself like the Harvester, Rhone cut me off.
“I don’t have the confidence. I’ve tried to copy him over and over, but when it counts, I lose my nerve. If you ask your Harvester, he’d say that makes me no different from a murderer. The ones who gave up their lives were so brave. What breaks my heart is that they don’t see themselves that way.”
A red hand reached up, and Ululu scooped away Rhone’s tears.
Even among all the water running down his cheeks, I could tell which drops were tears.
Suddenly, Oomi—leaning over to watch the island—shook off the sunset and turned toward me. Raising his voice to be heard over the thunder, he called out:
“Oze-san! Come closer! Let’s look together!”