last stop.

board

Hotaru's heart pounded violently against his chest as he stood frozen at the train's entrance, his feet glued to the ground. The Bound Line Express loomed in front of him, its sleek, dark body casting an ominous shadow over the deserted platform. He looked over at Emi, eyes wide, panic written all over his face.

"I'm not going," he whispered, shaking his head furiously. "I'm not getting on."

But the whistle blew, the sound piercing through the air like a final call—a demand that couldn't be ignored. Emi stood a few steps away, watching, her lips pressed into a thin line as tears welled in her eyes. She knew what had to be done, but it didn't make it any easier.

"Hotaru," she began, her voice faltering, "you don't have a choice."

Hotaru's fists clenched by his sides, his knuckles turning white as he stepped back, shaking his head in disbelief. "No," he muttered, louder this time. "No, I won't go back. Please, Emi, don't send me away just like that."

Emi's face crumpled, her chest aching as she watched him unravel before her eyes. He looked so desperate, so broken—his lips quivering, his hands trembling as he backed away from the train, as if it would swallow him whole.

But then the doors opened.

Hotaru's breath hitched as the cold, metallic doors slid open, revealing the inside of the train, dimly lit and eerily familiar. His knees buckled, and he fell to the ground, his hands clawing at the concrete platform. He looked up at Emi, his hazel and dark eyes pleading, tears streaming down his face.

"I can't," His voice broke, hoarse and shaky. "Please, I can't go back there. Don't make me."

Emi's own tears flowed freely now, but she forced herself to stand tall, even though her heart felt like it was being ripped in two. She knew this moment was inevitable—he didn't belong here, and the Bound Line would never let him stay. But seeing him like this, begging and crying, made her want to crumble. She wanted to scream, to pull him away from the train and hold him close, never letting go.

But she couldn't.

"It's not about what I want, Hotaru," she whispered, her voice cracking. "You have to go. You know that."

Hotaru's sobs grew louder, and he slammed his fists onto the platform, the sound echoing in the empty station. His shoulders shook violently, and he dragged himself closer to her, his fingers gripping the hem of her jeans, desperate to stay.

"Please," he whimpered, his voice so broken it barely sounded like his own. "Don't let them take me."

Emi's resolve wavered, her hands trembling as she knelt beside him. She gently cupped his face in her hands, her thumb brushing away the tears that stained his cheeks. His eyes searched hers, hoping—praying—that she would change her mind. But all he saw in her gaze was sorrow. Sorrow for the pain she couldn't take away.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "I'm so sorry."

And then, before he could protest any further, two shadows emerged from the train's doorway. They were figures from Hotaru's past—the old conductors, their faces grim and resolute. Without a word, they grabbed Hotaru's arms, gently pulling him off the ground. He struggled against them, kicking and screaming as they dragged him toward the open doors.

"No," he cried, his voice raw and desperate. "No, please, Emi."

But she stood frozen, her heart shattering as she watched him being pulled away, his cries filling the empty air. The old conductors were unyielding, their grip ironclad as they forced Hotaru into the train. He hit the doors, slamming his fists against the windows, his face contorted in anguish.

"Emi," he screamed, pounding on the glass.

The doors began to close, and Hotaru's voice became muffled, his cries growing fainter as the train began to move. He slammed his palms against the window, his breath fogging up the glass as he mouthed her name over and over again, his eyes wide with fear.

Emi took a step back, her knees buckling beneath her. She couldn't tear her gaze away from him, her heart screaming for her to run to him, to stop the train, to do anything. But it was too late.

The train moved away, slowly at first, then faster, carrying Hotaru farther and farther from her. Its figure grew smaller, more distant, until it was nothing but a silhouette on the long tracks. And then, with a final, haunting whistle, the Bound Line Express disappeared into the distance.

Emi fell to her knees, her body trembling as sobs wracked her frame. She stared at the empty tracks, her tears falling onto the cold platform beneath her. 

The train was gone.

He was gone.

The world seemed to shift around her, and suddenly, she wasn't alone anymore. The once-deserted station was now bustling with life, people moving about as if nothing had happened. Commuters rushed by, laughing, talking, their footsteps echoing on the platform. Life had resumed, as if the last few moments had never occurred.

For a long time, she remained on her knees, staring at the empty tracks. People moved around her, their voices blending into a distant hum. The world was alive, but Emi felt nothing but emptiness. The clock above the platform ticked steadily, but for her, time had stopped.

And in the silence that followed, she wondered if she would ever feel better again, here, in 2024.