The day dawned cold, the skies colored the dark grey of heavy clouds. The red sun's light cut a hundred holes through the clouds, but even so it was too dark, too damp. Since the world fell, it had been like this. Some days were scorching hot, and Reika felt like a chunk of ice slowly melting, while others were cloudy, melancholic. The hottest days were often unbearable, but days like this were even worse. They made Reika feel like the light fighting to gleam through the clouds; no matter how hard she tried, her shining was not enough, and the darkness prevailed.
Nozomi was still asleep, and Reika felt no joy in awakening her only to see grey skies of sadness. Their small shelter was getting quite cramped now that a week had passed and they had scoured the nearby lands and cities in search of supplies. Taking things from others was against everything the Precure stood for, but they had no choice now.
They found Nozomi's bed at what had once been a small furniture store. When they searched the city together, Reika couldn't help but notice how weird it looked; the streets were deserted, but they were still clean, and the buildings were intact. Far away, the Doughnut Castle still stood proud, its stones untouched, its towers still watching over the city. This town didn't seem broken, only empty. Frosting, this city had been called once, but nothing about it held the slightest hint of frost; it was always hot, as Nightmare's furnaces never stopped burning. Nightmare was quick to turn this once cheerful place into an industrial complex. The transformation was not yet complete, but the skies were already beginning to be obscured by black smoke coming out of chimneys.
"Strange," Nozomi had said. "The Palmier Kingdom was destroyed, but the Doughnut Kingdom wasn't? I don't really understand."
"Perhaps they meant to make an example of the Palmier Kingdom?" That didn't seem like something that Nightmare would do, though. They rarely destroyed, and instead they enslaved. Still, Reika could not think of another reason.
From time to time they saw fairies in a hurry, but their faces were all obscured by Nightmare's masks. They were working somewhere nearby, enthralled by Nightmare. Whenever she saw one of Nightmare's victims, Nozomi's expression grew somber, angry. There was no forgiveness for this, they agreed.
They returned home before nightfall, knowing full well the terrors that might be lurking in the dark, hunting them. The Precure had underestimated their enemies, once, and because of that they were unprepared when their enemies came. Reika would never make that mistake again.
Every morning, before they ate together, Nozomi followed a short ritual: she'd always wish a good day to Coco, though the fairy was still deep in slumber, resting on another tiny bed they had taken from Frosting, and had no way of answering, or even listening. She still insisted on doing it. Then, she would try to reach out to the other Precure. Nozomi called the other Cures with her CureMo, a dozen times each morning, and a dozen times she was answered by silence.
Nozomi kept toying around with the device, but Reika knew it would be a waste of time, a waste of hope. Each time Nozomi pressed the button on the CureMo to call someone, stars sparkled in her eyes, but with each silent answer her hopes were dashed to pieces. It was taking its toll on her, Reika noticed. She'd start her task with a smile, and slowly her face would contort into a frown as she sighed with each failure. By the end of it, she just looked completely depleted as they sat together to eat.
It was no feast, quite the contrary: there were days they could eat some actual fresh food, when they found ripe fruits in the old forest. This was not one of those days, however. Last night they came home empty-handed, exhausted and soaked by the heavy rain that took them by surprise. All they had to eat this morning was the canned food they had taken from Frosting. Peas and corn and beans were their options, though it didn't actually matter as they all had no taste.
