“There’s space in the bunks for another fifteen people,” Aiko tells me the next day, when we are folding up the towels in the pool area. It’s just us, with Seunghee having left immediately, and Haru chasing after her.
“What’s the plan?” I ask, my fingers tightening on the cloth. I can feel my heart rate rising at the thought of heading out into the storm again. It is fear, I realise, but also excitement. I’m actually looking forward to it.
“Haru wants to go over to see what it’s like in the landlocked areas, especially considering the rains,” he says, grabbing another towel. “We could go along, and if there’s someone who really needs help, we can bring them back.”
“What’s the criteria going to be?” I wonder. “Who really needs it?”
He shrugs. “I guess we’ll find out when we see them, huh?”
He sounds confident that we’ll be able to pull this off, but still, I worry. Seunghee didn’t sound very happy with the fact that we were still going to rescue more people without having an end goal in mind. Tara outright hated the idea when I talked to her in the lab. Without Seunghee being our eyes out of the water, we would be going in blind.
“Is…is Seunghee in on this?” I ask Aiko hesitantly. “Because – I’m not sure what we could do otherwise.”
“Haru’s going to be there. We’ll be fine, Mina. We can rescue so many more people this way. We can really help.”
It is like a balm to my soul. All this time, sitting in the Tower, waiting for a certain death? It has felt like drowning on land, the breath choked out of me, the sounds muffled and growing more and more distant. But this? This chance to go out and actually do what I’ve been training to do? This chance to do more than pulling a person onto the deck of the Tower, it’s everything I ever needed.
“Let’s do it,” I tell him, my eyes sparkling. “I want to do this.”
When Haru comes to find us, we are both ready, wetsuits on, goggles and gear checked. He nods wordlessly, but I know he approves of this. The idea of diving into the water is terrifying, but I think, for once, that my fear of the water is weaker than my desire to help. My desire to make a change in this state of living.
The rains have reduced marginally when we set out in the boat, and I find myself on the deck, feeling the soft patter hit my face. It has been a while since the drops felt soft and fresh, since the wind seemed ready to make weapons of them all this while. Aiko stands beside me, his eyes keen and scanning the area. I still don’t know how I will know, or who I can save. Do I even have the right to decide this?
“Look,” he murmurs, touching my hand gently. I see what he’s pointing to. A woman and a child, clinging to a concrete wall on what must be the roof of their house. They are drenched and shivering, so it is hardly a difficult decision. We exchange glances and dive, and in a few minutes, they are on the boat, wrapped in blankets and heating pads.
I swam without freezing.
I think I can conquer my terror now, if I keep having this purpose. No matter what happens, I can see the little break in the clouds, the little cessation of the rain. Maybe we will be able to go back to how we used to live.
Maybe we won’t have to make decisions about who lives and who dies anymore.
What happens next is too quick. I can’t see out of my goggles when a wave buffets the side of the boat with a strength that sends us staggering against each other. Aiko grabs my arm, steadying me. When I meet his eyes, he looks away, his face grim and set, and I can feel a weight sinking into my stomach.
Something is wrong.
“Watch out!” Haru’s voice comes from the cabin, but it is too late. The waves rise, higher than I have ever seen them. In the second before they land on our heads, I can feel a sense of calm settle over me. It is a sight I have seen before, long before this catastrophe descended on us. In my mind, I am three years old again, staring up at the wave with curious awe.
The wave descends, the force knocking me down and dragging at my legs. I sputter and choke, the water rushing into my face and blinding me.
“Aiko!”
“Mina!”
His hand is there, in front of me. I just have to reach out –
The wave recedes. So does his hand.
When the bubbles surround me once more, I can see the moon again. It is large and bright, the rays of its light sinking as far down as I am, almost a tangible presence that I can touch.
I lift my hand and the water ripples, the patterns shifting across my skin. I won’t see the new world that emerges.
I am scared. The edges of my sight are blurring out. The breath is burning in my lungs.
If I could just reach out once more…
Sreepriya Ramesh 
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