Chapter 17: Happy landings

Sweat grew under his palms, he reminisced over all his choices up to that point. He wondered about his chances. And in his mind, he drew a conclusion.

“NO FUCKING WAY I’M NOT!!!”

Well, it was certainly a moment.

There had to be some way for him to escape. Even if there wasn’t, he’d have to make one.

He skidded past another broken partition and entered the next section, looking around some more. Matchsticks was already about halfway down, moving further away from the building on a zigzagging, narrow road.

He passed another partition, barely avoiding a direct crash against a large parked truck.

The new section he’d just arrived at was significantly better lit than the previous ones. The thick concrete walls had been replaced by the checkerboarded horizon. This place had likely been heavily covered in windows in the past, but now there was nothing holding up this particular portion of the station apart from a few flimsy pillars. The section’s front edge was even slightly bent around the ceiling, as if threatening to collapse on him at any moment.

Beyond it, in the distance right ahead, he could see a thick, white spear of light pierce into the sky, growing from down below. It was likely marking where the goal was.

Haruto veered towards the open side of the building, and, before his boosters could fully deplete and slow him down, he rushed right out the empty windows, landing on one of the station’s attached building’s roofs with a deafening slam of clanking metals below the cart.

The roof prolonged itself for a few more meters ahead, and while it wasn’t much overall, he deemed it more than enough for himself.

The boosters’ last breath was approaching. The last burst of speed before he ran out.

He could hear the motorcycle’s roar down below making turn after turn until it reached the foot of the incline, drowned out by his own insufferable screech against the concrete.

The goal was right ahead, just waiting for him to reach it.

“Just a little more…”

Standing right there to block his way were the skeletal remains of what once could have been a glassy handrail guard. He was still going much too fast for it to stop him, however.

“JUST A LITTLE MORE–”

Sooner than expected, he broke past the guard and the tall bump of the surface’s edge, with another fierce screech, as the cart’s remains immediately ran out of roof to screech through and drunkenly flung itself through the dead, colorless sky.

Far down below, the girl could only gawk helplessly at the sight, her own sense of reality deeply affected not for the first time that day.

Desperate now, she sped forward, not caring about any turns or twists anymore. It couldn’t be happening. None of this could be happening.

If her eyes did not deceive her, she wasn’t going to make it.

At that moment, the tragically broken down golf cart flew high above her, nothing to stop it in its smooth-sailing path to the shining light that signaled the end of that race.

Maekawa was in the clouds. Figuratively. Because there were no clouds in this place.

Letting go of the wheel, he spread his arms far to his sides, embracing the wild wind that came to greet him. He laughed, he sneered, he sang loudly in celebration of his conquest.

His path now was that of a steep, downwards descent, but that didn’t matter to him. That roof could not have been less than 60 meters above the incline, let alone the flat ground the goal was placed on.

He could see it right before his eyes. The almost blinding white light coming to meet him, reciprocating his warm embrace, enveloping him like a long lost lover.

He could feel its heat running through him, like a credit card passing through a reader, appraising him as the first to reach it.

When he opened his eyes, it was gone, replaced by the empty sky once again.

A ways behind, the motorcycle had finally reached the end of the incline, jumping down to the flat road. But it was too late.

The golf cart had already flung far past the spear of white light, and accordingly it had vanished without a trace.

“No way…”

His arms still outstretched, the boy guffawed some more, taking in the cold air, enjoying the  moment.

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On an unfortunate side note, however, our plucky protagonist had not yet realized a very important detail pertaining to his new machine’s operation. He had never given it any proper consideration, though it was the truth, no matter how you put it.

Throughout its life span, a golf cart could be many things, but at the end of the day, it was not, in fact, an airplane.

Before he could have realized it, the golf cart had plummeted straight into the tattered asphalt with him inside it, not slowing down for a single moment.

And then, came the ear-shattering crash, as countless beats and pieces of metal, plastic, and who knew what else rolled and flew about in every direction conceivable.

 

***

 

It had taken her only about ten seconds to reach the crash site.

Bits and pieces of golf cart were wildly strewn everywhere, both splayed around over the road and far beside it as well.

As for Maekawa…

Enduring a fall of over 60 meters, this was only the likely result.

It seemed his own body had exploded violently upon landing as well, splattering him all across the field like a squashed bug in the pavement.

Part of his lower arm had stopped just short of her foot, heavily enveloped in checkerboard patterns, which sealed its cutoff point.

Each of his arms, legs, lower, higher, middle torso, hands, even fingers had all wound up on different parts. His head, particularly, was nowhere in sight.

It wasn’t like she had any interest in looking for it. She simply remained in place, sat atop her scarlet motorcycle, mouth agape at the utter bizarreness of the situation.

Before her eyes could even properly take in the sheer, absurd sight that greeted them, a flurry of announcements caught her off-guard, even though she should have expected them.

“Haruto Maekwa’s vehicle has been destroyed. Haruto Maekawa do–”

The last of them, though, was stopped right before it could finish.

A moment later, there was a third announcement.

“The victor is Haruto Maekawa.”

The cut piece of the boy’s arm lying right next to her was then entirely enveloped by the checkerboard cloud, which started to shine brightly all of a sudden, forcing the girl to cover her face from the light. The dead limb then lost its shape and crumbled into dozens of tiny, glittering flickers, as though dissolving into the air.

Mimicking it, each scattered part of him that remained then did the same, and the countless glowing fragments of the former high schooler’s corpse then floated towards the middle of the lane, gathering all together, conjoined in that singular place.

Much like in Nohara’s case, all the combined pieces then moved and thrashed about, slowly acquiring a humanoid form.

Haruto Maekawa stood before her, inevitably, back from the dead.

“Awww, my knees!!!! My poors knees…!!!! And my back… And my head!!!! It hurts so damn much what the hell happened!?!?!?!” he cried, wriggling about like some crazy monkey and hugging his body in the most ridiculous manner she’d ever seen.

Like before, the results screen appeared before the two, pouring yet more salt on the girl’s wounds.

‘1st place: Haruto Maekawa'

‘2nd place: H.E.L.L.F.I.R.E.’

“Impossible…”

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