Kota's foot caught on a piece of rubble and he stumbled forward, his vision swimming. The world tilted sideways and he threw out his good arm, catching himself against a crumbling wall. The impact jarred his wounded arm and he bit back a cry, pressing his forehead against the cool stone.
"Kota!" Aisha was beside him instantly, her hand on his back. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," he managed, though his legs were shaking. "Just... need a second."
They stood there in the growing darkness, both of them breathing hard. The ruins rose around them like the bones of some massive creature, all sharp angles and impossible geometry. The stone was smooth in places, rough in others, and covered in patterns that might have been writing or decoration or something else entirely.
Kota's arm throbbed in time with his heartbeat. The pain had dulled to a constant ache, but every movement sent fresh spikes through his shoulder. He was exhausted. They both were. Two days of fear and running and not enough food or water had left them hollow.
"We need to find somewhere to rest," Aisha said quietly. "Before it gets completely dark."
Kota nodded, still leaning against the wall. He could feel Aisha standing close beside him, could hear her breathing, but he kept his eyes fixed on the stone in front of him.
"Kota."
Her voice was different. Softer. He didn't respond.
"I know you've been avoiding looking at me."
Heat flooded his face. "I'm not—"
"Yes, you are." There was no anger in her voice. Almost amusement. "You've been staring at the ground or the sky or literally anything except me for the past hour."
"Aisha—"
"It's because of my clothes, isn't it? Or lack of clothes, I guess."
Kota wanted the ground to open up and swallow him. This was not a conversation he wanted to have. Not now. Not ever. "Can we not—"
"I'm not mad," Aisha said. "I just... I wanted you to know that I know. And it's okay. This is weird for both of us."
Kota finally risked a glance at her. She was hugging herself, her arms crossed over her chest, and there was a faint smile on her face despite everything. Despite the torn clothing and the cuts and bruises and the fact that they were stranded on an alien world.
"It's really weird," Kota admitted.
Aisha laughed—actually laughed, a short burst of sound that seemed impossibly loud in the quiet ruins. "Yeah. It really is." She held out her hand. "Come on. Let's find somewhere to sleep before you fall over again."
Kota took her hand and let her pull him upright. His legs protested but held. The moment of levity had helped somehow, had made the situation feel slightly less impossible.
They moved deeper into the ruins, picking their way carefully over broken stone and twisted metal. The structures around them were massive, built on a scale that made Kota feel small. Doorways rose three times his height. Windows stretched from floor to ceiling. Everything was too big, too grand, built for something larger than human.
"What do you think they looked like?" Aisha whispered. "The people who built this?"
"I don't know. Bigger than us, maybe."
"Or maybe they just liked big buildings."
They passed through what might have been a plaza or courtyard, the ground covered in that same luminescent grass. The floating lights were everywhere here, drifting between the ruins like lazy fireflies. They cast strange shadows that moved independently of their sources.
"There," Kota said, pointing with his good arm. "That one looks more intact."
The structure ahead was smaller than most of the others, though still large by human standards. Three walls stood complete, the fourth partially collapsed. The roof was mostly intact, supported by pillars that curved like ribs. The entrance was a dark rectangle, about the size of a small house back in Okala.
They approached cautiously. Kota's hand went to his belt, where he'd tucked the branch he'd been using as a weapon. It wasn't much, but it was something.
"Should we go in?" Aisha asked, stopping at the threshold.
"Where else are we going to go?"
"I mean, what if something's already living in there? What if the roof collapses? What if—"
"What if we stand out here arguing until something finds us?" Kota countered. "We need shelter, Aisha. We need to rest. And it's getting dark."
As if to emphasize his point, the last sliver of the second sun disappeared below the horizon. The world didn't go completely dark—the floating lights and luminescent plants provided a dim glow—but it was enough to make the ruins feel more threatening.
"Fine," Aisha said. "But if something eats us, I'm blaming you."
"Deal."
They stepped through the entrance together.
The interior was dark, but not completely. Moonlight—or whatever passed for moonlight here—streamed through windows that looked like glass but felt wrong somehow when Kota touched them. Smoother than glass. Warmer. The light it cast was tinged with blue and purple, painting everything in alien hues.
Vines grew along the walls and across the floor, thick as Kota's wrist in places. They were covered in small buds that glowed with a soft green light, providing just enough illumination to see by. The air smelled strange—not bad, but different. Like rain and something floral and something else he couldn't identify.
"It's beautiful," Aisha breathed.
She was right. Despite everything, despite the fear and exhaustion and pain, the place was beautiful. The vines created patterns on the walls that looked almost intentional. The glowing buds pulsed gently, like breathing. The moonlight through the strange windows made everything look dreamlike.
"Come on," Kota said. "Let's check the other rooms."
They moved carefully through the main chamber. The floor was smooth stone, mostly intact, though roots had pushed through in places. There were alcoves in the walls that might have held furniture or decorations once, but they were empty now.
A doorway on the left led to another room. Kota peered inside and froze.
"Aisha. Look at this."
She came up beside him and gasped.
The room was smaller than the main chamber, maybe the size of Yuki's kitchen back home. But set into the floor, surrounded by smooth stone, was a pool of water.
It looked like the hot springs Kota had seen in history books—the ones that existed before the gateways opened and changed everything. The pool was roughly circular, maybe ten feet across, and the water was perfectly still. It reflected the moonlight from above, creating a mirror of blue and purple light.
"Is that... water?" Aisha asked.
"I think so."
They approached slowly, as if the pool might disappear if they moved too fast. Kota knelt at the edge, ignoring the protest from his wounded arm, and looked down into the depths. The water was clear. He could see the bottom, maybe six feet down, covered in the same smooth stone as the floor.
"Should we drink it?" Aisha asked.
"I don't know. What if it's not safe?"
"What if it is? We're almost out of water, Kota. And we're going to need more tomorrow."
Kota thought about the water filters back in Okala. Everyone in the outskirts had one. You couldn't survive without them—the water that came through the pipes was contaminated with gateway runoff, chemicals, and things that didn't have names. Drinking unfiltered water was a death sentence.
But they weren't in Okala anymore. They were on an alien world where the grass glowed and the sky was the wrong color and nothing made sense.
"We should filter it," Kota said. "But we don't have anything to filter it with."
"We could boil it? If we can make a fire?"
"With what? Everything here is either stone or those weird vines."
They stared at the water in silence. Kota's throat was dry. His lips were cracked. He'd given most of their remaining water to Aisha, and the little he'd drunk hadn't been enough. His body was screaming for hydration.
"We're going to have to risk it," Aisha said finally. "Aren't we?"
"Yeah. I think we are."
Aisha cupped her hands and dipped them into the pool. The water rippled, distorting the reflected moonlight. She brought her hands to her lips and drank.
Kota watched her face, looking for any sign of distress. She swallowed, made a face, then took another drink.
"Well?" he asked.
"It's... weird. It tastes like water, but not quite. Like water with something else mixed in. Not bad, just... different."
"Is it making you sick?"
"Not yet." She drank again, then sat back. "It's manageable. Better than dying of thirst."
Kota followed her example, scooping water into his hands. It was cool against his skin, and when he brought it to his lips, he understood what Aisha meant. It tasted like water—that clean, neutral taste—but there was something underneath it. Something slightly sweet, slightly mineral. Not unpleasant, but definitely not normal.
He drank anyway. His body didn't care about the taste. It just wanted hydration.
They drank until their stomachs were full, until the desperate thirst that had been building for two days finally eased. Then Kota looked at his bandaged arm and had an idea.
"Help me with this," he said, starting to unwrap the makeshift bandage.
"What are you doing?"
"I want to wash it. See if the water helps."
The bandage came away sticky with blood and sweat. The gash underneath looked angry and red, the edges swollen. It hurt just to look at it.
Kota lowered his arm into the pool.
The water was cool against his skin, and for a moment nothing happened. Then he felt it—a tingling sensation, like pins and needles but not painful. The constant throbbing ache that had been his companion for hours began to fade.
"Kota?" Aisha leaned closer. "What's happening?"
"I don't know. But it feels... better."
He kept his arm submerged, watching the water around the wound. It didn't change color, didn't cloud with blood or infection. The tingling continued, spreading from the gash up his arm and into his shoulder.
When he finally pulled his arm out, the wound looked the same—still red, still swollen, still ugly. But the pain had receded to a dull ache instead of the sharp, constant agony it had been. He could move his arm more freely, could flex his fingers without wanting to scream.
"It helped," he said, amazed. "It actually helped."
"The water healed you?"
"Not healed. But the pain is less. A lot less." He looked at the pool with new respect. "Whatever this stuff is, it's not just water."
They sat by the pool for a while, neither of them speaking. The exhaustion was catching up now that they'd found shelter and water. Kota's eyelids felt heavy. His body wanted to shut down, to sleep for a week.
"We should check the rest of the place," Aisha said, though she sounded as tired as he felt.
They forced themselves up and continued exploring.
The next room was larger, more spacious. It might have been a bedroom or a recreational area—there was no furniture left to tell them for sure. The walls were covered in more of those patterns that might have been writing. The floor was smooth and clean, free of debris.
"We could sleep here," Kota said.
"It's not exactly comfortable."
"It's better than outside."
The last room made them both stop and stare.
It was filled with... things. Wires or hoses or something in between, hanging from the ceiling in thick bundles. They were made of a material that looked like metal but bent like rubber, and they connected to panels on the walls that were covered in symbols and shapes that hurt to look at too long.
"What is all this?" Aisha whispered.
"Technology, maybe? Something they used?"
"It looks like it should be doing something. Like it's waiting to be turned on."
Kota reached out to touch one of the hanging wires, then thought better of it. They had no idea what any of this was or what it did. Better not to risk it.
"Let's set up in the other room," he said. "Away from... whatever this is."
They returned to the spacious room and stood in the center, looking around at their new home. It wasn't much. It was cold and empty and on an alien world. But it had walls and a roof and water, and right now that felt like a miracle.
"We need food," Aisha said quietly.
"I know."
"What are we going to eat, Kota? We don't know what's safe here. We don't know what's poisonous."
"We'll figure it out. Tomorrow. We'll explore, see what we can find. Maybe there are berries or fruit or something."
"And if there isn't?"
"Then we hunt. Or we eat those glowing insects if we have to."
Aisha made a face. "That sounds disgusting."
"Starvation sounds worse."
They were quiet for a moment, the weight of their situation settling over them again. They were alone on an alien world with no food, limited water, and no way home. Marcus might be dead. Yuki was probably terrified. And they were just two fourteen-year-olds from the outskirts who'd never been more than a few miles from home before today.
"We should clean up," Aisha said finally. "We're both filthy."
Kota looked down at himself. She was right. He was covered in dirt and blood and sweat, his clothes torn and stained. Aisha was worse—her shirt was barely holding together, her pants ripped at the knees.
"The pool," he said. "We could wash there."
They returned to the room with the spring. The water looked inviting now, the reflected moonlight dancing across its surface.
"You go first," Aisha said, turning her back. "I'll... I'll wait in the other room."
Kota stripped off his shirt and pants, leaving his underwear on. The water was cool when he stepped in, and the tingling sensation returned immediately. He washed quickly, scrubbing away the grime and blood, careful around his wounded arm.
When he was done, he climbed out and wrung out his clothes as best he could. They were still damp, but cleaner. He laid his shirt out on the stone floor where the moonlight hit it, hoping it would dry faster.
"Your turn," he called out.
Aisha appeared in the doorway, her arms wrapped around herself. "Kota... I can't."
"What do you mean?"
"My clothes. They're barely holding together. If I take them off to wash them, I'll have nothing to wear."
Kota felt his face heat up again. He hadn't thought about that. "Oh. Right."
They stood there awkwardly, neither of them sure what to say.
"You could wear my shirt," Kota offered finally. "Once it dries. It's cleaner than what you have now, and it'll cover more."
"But then you won't have a shirt."
"I'll be fine. It's not that cold."
Aisha looked at him for a long moment, then nodded. "Okay. Thank you."
She waited in the other room while Kota's shirt dried. It took longer than he'd hoped—the air was humid, and the fabric was thick. But eventually it was dry enough to wear, and he brought it to her.
"Here. I'll... I'll be in the other room."
He heard her moving around, heard the splash of water. He kept his back turned and his eyes on the wall, studying the patterns there and trying not to think about anything else.
When Aisha finally emerged, she was wearing his shirt. It was too big for her, hanging past her hips, the sleeves covering her hands. Her torn pants were gone, washed and laid out to dry. She looked small and vulnerable and nothing like the tough girl from the outskirts who'd grown up fighting for every scrap.
"Better?" Kota asked, keeping his eyes on her face.
"Better. Thank you."
They returned to the spacious room and sat down against the wall, side by side. The stone was hard and cold, but they were too tired to care. Kota's stomach growled, reminding him they hadn't eaten in over a day. Tomorrow they'd have to deal with that. Tomorrow they'd have to figure out how to survive in this place.
But tonight, they had shelter. They had water. They had each other.
"Kota?" Aisha's voice was quiet in the darkness.
"Yeah?"
"Do you think we'll ever get home?"
He wanted to say yes. Wanted to promise her that they'd find a way back, that they'd see Marcus and Yuki again, that everything would be okay.
But he'd never lied to Aisha before, and he wasn't going to start now.
"I don't know," he said. "But we're going to try. We're going to survive, and we're going to try."
Aisha leaned her head against his shoulder. "I'm glad you're here. I'm glad I'm not alone."
"Me too."
They sat in silence as the alien moonlight painted patterns on the walls and the luminescent vines pulsed with their gentle glow. Somewhere outside, the strange world continued its alien rhythms. But in here, in this small room in the ruins of a dead civilization, two kids from the outskirts of Okala held onto each other and tried not to think about how hungry they were.
Eventually, exhaustion won. They slumped against each other, their breathing slowing, their bodies finally giving in to the need for rest.
They fell asleep hungry, but they fell asleep together.
And for now, that was enough.