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Au Revoir – Part 04

In the capital of France, Paris.

Silence lay heavy on the downtown shopping district. The night was late, and the pale moon played hide-and-seek with the drifting clouds. Apart from the occasional barking of stray dogs, there were no other sounds or signs of anything living. It was a very quiet night.

In the corner of the street, behind the glass window of an old bookstore, something stirred. Something golden, resembling the tail of a horse. It was Ambrose’s long hair casually tied behind his head.

Clad in his usual fashionable attire, his youthful features had taken on a slightly more mature air. He was looking around with sleepy eyes; apparently he had dozed off in the store. He took out a watch from his pocket.

“Oops. Is it already this late?”

He tilted his head, and the tail of the horse swayed gently.

On the small round table lay an open wrinkled newspaper, detailing the ongoing great war. The prominent headline at the top read: “Is it finally over? Germany and Italy surrender completely!” The date was February 1929.

Ambrose slowly got up and stretched.

“Oh?”

He froze and stared into the dimness. Though the glass-paneled door of the store was closed, a ghostly shadow, shimmering in the moonlight, entered, melting before returning to its original state. It wasn’t just a singular shadow either. One, two, three, four… A lot more.

Ambrose rubbed his eyes.

The shadows had wings like swans extending from their backs, large horns growing from their foreheads, or two curly horns like those of sheep. There was a giant tall enough to reach the high ceiling, and, conversely, a tiny girl small enough to fit in Ambrose’s palm, her golden hair swinging delicately. Creatures of peculiar form—a bull with a human face, a pale-faced youth in ominous black robes, a robust figure in armor, and a quartet of fair goddesses, running with laughter.

Am I still dreaming? Ambrose wondered, holding his breath as he watched, careful not to disturb them.

Ancient beings, mysterious inhabitants of the Old World that resided in the boundary between the human world and the realm of the gods, had decided to abandon this land. Tonight marked the beginning of their continent-wide, mass exodus.

The bookstore, where Ambrose, their former compatriot, served as the gatekeeper, had become known among the ancient ones as an entrance to the other world, along with the secret closet in the attic and the cabinet made of oak. Perhaps that’s why, even when Ambrose made eye contact, the young goddesses smiled back without fear.

Although they were leaving the Old World where they had lived for eternity, none of the faces of these creatures showed sadness or pain. Instead, they entered the bookstore with a spring in their steps, laughing as they ran up the spiral staircase without a sound.

Ambrose rose and watched them attentively.

As the ancient beings took the books neatly arranged on shelves, opening them, their shadowy forms dissolved, growing fainter and smaller until they vanished into the pages. As their figures slowly faded away, the books they held fell to the floor, still open.

Eventually, the floor was littered with numerous books, stacked layer upon layer like desiccated carcasses of animals.

The strange procession continued until dawn. Ambrose stared at it with wide green eyes, as if in a dream.

As the soft morning sun began to shine, their figures faded. Ambrose went up the spiral staircase, collecting and returning the scattered books to their shelves.

“So they’ve embarked on a journey to the world of stories.” He placed a hand on his hip and cocked his head. “And if you open a book, they’ll always be there.”

“Au revoir, ancient ones. Dear old friends. We shall meet again inside countless stories.” He smiled warmly.

Bicycles were starting to pass by outside, boys with sun-kissed cheeks delivering milk and newspapers. They were probably much smaller when the war began, but now, they were hard at work, living busy lives day by day.

The boys’ faces appeared brighter and more joyful, possibly sensing the approaching end of the prolonged battle.

Ambrose couldn’t help but smile broadly, and, unable to suppress his lively footsteps, he ran down the spiral staircase. He darted to the window and opened it wide, welcoming a warm spring breeze that replaced the chilly, dusty night air with the refreshing breath of morning.

A hint of loneliness marred his profile, but the brightness of his smile soon overshadowed it.

“And…” Ambrose muttered to no one in particular. “Welcome, new era! What can I do, I wonder?”

The morning sun shone brightly. Somewhere, a bird was singing.

Ambrose casually sat on the windowsill, hugging one knee and tilting his head. He gazed at the glittering spring sunlight with sparkling green eyes. His entire being exuded the brilliance of youth, hope, and a curiosity for change. His hair bobbed in the wind.

Outside the window, the cobblestone road glistened in the sunlight. Distant town chatter rolled in from somewhere, and the gradual crescendo of bird songs transformed into a delightful chorus. More and more people appeared as morning continued to fill the shopping district.

Five days later, all the countries of the Old World surrendered or renounced war altogether. After raging across the world, knocking down cities, ravaging Mother Nature, tearing apart the hearts of millions of people, and taking away precious things that could never be regained, the second storm that had lasted for years had finally subsided.

Most old maps had been destroyed, and those places would never return to their original forms. The hearts of the people were no different.

It would take a long time for people around the world to verify and understand the cause of this huge tempest, and subsequently cross the immense mountain of ruins to rebuild and begin a new life. The so-called new era arrived like a merciless invader, sweeping across rubble and countless broken hearts.

“Onwards. To a brighter future!”

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On an island in the Far East, even in the battered part of town, where remnants of houses and charred furniture lay scattered, the morning sun cast its bright glow.

Despite the early hour, hammers banged rhythmically, elderly men with towels as headbands hard at work constructing simple dwellings.

From a newly erected structure that could pass for a house or a shack, a young woman with black hair emerged, yawning as she stepped outside.

Ruri Kujou, with her large black eyes and a small nose, was a striking beauty, her tightly pursed lips suggesting strong will. She had transitioned from being a stylish student with a colorful haori and hakama and a large ribbon before the war to now wearing light blue working clothes. Her glossy black hair fell casually. On her back was a small boy with a remarkably square face, sleeping soundly.

Peeking into the makeshift dwelling, Ruri cheerfully declared, “It’s morning!”

After a long moment, a groan came. Smiling, Ruri waited patiently.

Soon, a person in red working pants and a hood covering their head appeared, trotting. Their age and gender were unclear—could be an adult, a child, an elderly person, a man, a woman, or even a fairy. A head shorter than Ruri, their steps appeared unsteady.

“All right, we’re off to the harbor again today! Not that you understand me, of course. Um… Suivez… moi… uhh…”

The small person bit their lip tightly and cast their gaze down.

Leaving the child on her back to the neighbors, Ruri took the hand of the hooded person and strolled along the worn path. Despite stumbling, the small figure obediently followed. Ruri started humming along the way.

The town had been razed by the New World’s bombings. It resembled a vast, flat plain, offering an unprecedented view stretching to the distant horizon. The morning sun shone brightly on everything.

“Today is surely the day, so cheer up,” Ruri said brightly, peering into the face of the person beside her. She then racked her brains, trying her best to rephrase what she just said in English or French.

The morning sun crawled higher in the sky.

As they walked, the town’s scenery gradually changed, as if they were stepping into the future. Piles of charred garbage and remnants of burned houses gave way to newly built shacks, makeshift marketplaces with only pillars and cloth as roof, and the lively figures of children running around.

Ruri and her companion covered a considerable distance, eventually reaching the harbor. The place was teeming with people, women and the elderly searching for their families, and hawkers selling their goods. Ruri and her companion stood in a corner, patiently awaiting the arrival of the day’s ship.

It had been nearly four years since Ruri bid farewell to her brother at this harbor. Since then, peaceful sleep had eluded her. The entire country shared in this anguish, grappling with the news of sons, lovers, and friends falling in battle.

Even after defeat, word of her brother’s death never arrived. There was, of course, the possibility that his unit had been wiped out or he had gone missing in the chaos. Other members of her family were safe, but the fate of her younger brother remained unknown. Ruri endured tears and nightmares every night.

Even now, anxiety seized her, and she shuddered.

Then, the hooded person lightly squeezed Ruri’s hand, offering silent encouragement. Startled, Ruri gazed into their face and found herself smiling.

“Thank you.”

“Mm…”

“Oh, here it comes. Today’s ship.”