souvenir

"If my calculations are correct, we are approximately six days from the nearest town."

My eyes light up at the mention. You perk up like it's a sight to see. Tempering myself, I ask "Is it another small one, Reimi?"

"To some extent," you admit. "My atlas calculates that about eight thousand people live there."

I look awkwardly at the stars. "Well, I'd imagine not anymore."

"Oh. Yes, that is true. A slip of the tongue." I catch a glimpse of you looking into the grassy knoll we call home tonight, pensive at something we can't define, can't see all the way around. At some point, you relax with a smile.

Our heavy backpacks lie by our mock firepit. Tonight is warm enough, but you can never be too careful. "If it's all the same to you," I say, pointing conspicuously at the sleeping bag sticking out.

You chuckle. "By all means, Feodor."

I smile. Or grimace. It still burns to hear that name, but it's all I have left.

Neither of us know the full details of how this happened. I'd exhausted myself investing into a hopeless life and you were spending months here in Russia in solitude. Like a true scientist should, you joke, but I hate that I forgot what changed the world. We were just… here.

It's been eight months. It feels like days, years, years repeating the same day. I'm strikingly reminded of the years I spent depressed, isolated from the world. Maybe it reminds you of isolation as well. Maybe that's why you touch my hand at random intervals- to make sure that I'm here.

I struggle to let you go.

Failing to sleep, I have to remind myself no one’s here, no one will hurt me, no one will hurt you, because the death of everyone in the universe hasn't made me feel safer. Will it ever?

Finding a house on the horizon is always daunting. It's easy to fear that even though it will likely be empty that we will face some sort of danger. Anything can happen, but you say "that doesn't mean it isn't worth trying."

The house is attached to a small farm with holes in the fence and the occasional chicken corpse. Disgusted, I offer to check the inside. You nod, chuckling gently.

Are the things that I was mocked for a familiar comfort to you?

I've had time to get used to breaking into empty houses. Some have doors left open. Others, like this one, are entirely locked. I never knock or lockpick in anymore. It's freeing to let go of hope.

The first time you threw a boulder through a window was after watching me struggle with a pick for ten minutes. "I've found a way in," you told me, like I didn't just witness you make a way in with a large rock.

"Don't cut yourself," I lamely advised

Funny to be in the position where I'm casually using nearby tools to break open windows with less care than you. Still, it is easier than politely asking the air. I climb through and walk to open the back door for you- something I once was too scared to do.

Freeing, indeed.

We look through the house for anything helpful. We stuff our bags with good nonperishable food. Country houses are the opposite of grocery stores- there's not much food here, but a lot was made for a situation like this.

The stench of rotted meat from the freezer could incapacitate a horse. I reach into my backpack and pull out a mask. "If this keeps up," I tell you while putting it on "I will clean out the freezer."

You chuckle, walking past to the pantry in the mud room. "Thank you, then," you say with a lilt.

I smile. "Absolutely, Rei." Strange how domestic this feels. It's the most normal thing I've known.

I did not expect my love story to start during the apocalypse, but it is a nice comfort. At first I thought it was a consequence of our situation. No, it's a joy to see you beam, eyes soft above the slightest smile. How did anyone ever question your humanity?

I walk through the bedroom. It is cold. Since power lines and valves have been left on, the first few months had us break into warm houses with running water and electricity, something that I miss. This also means that it is difficult to do something as simple as grooming myself. My beard mocks me; it knows that it shouldn't exist, but I can only cut off so much with a pocketknife.

I am drawn to the closet. I still feel a spark of guilt as I peruse the inside like a store rack. It's not like the homeowners will need them, but it's unlikely that they wanted me to have any. Unlike you, I'm not a rebel. I haven't learned to be yet.

I notice a jewelry rack hanging inside and can't sate my curiosity. I look through; most of it is too plain and mature for me save for a golden heart-shaped locket. It opens, but the ghosts have left it empty. It feels too much like a waste, and before I can stop myself, it's in my jean pocket.

"Yes!"

I hear your cheer from the hallway and almost hop out of the closet. "What's up?" I ask, shaking.

"We have hit the jackpot, bubbi!"

You set things up like there’s no apocalypse. You drape a towel over my lap and fill a bowl with water to dip the razor into. “I hope this isn’t too irritating to the skin." You gently brush shaving cream across my face and say “I’m about to start.”

I nod. “I hope you don’t mind this.”

You smack your lips together. “Not at all, kanushi. I would help my brother shave often so I am used to it.” Nothing further is said; I know about how you would help him with any of the necessities he struggled with.

You pull the razor across my face. It’s a little rough because of the growth, but it hasn't been long since I used the machete. “Kanushi is a new one.”

You chuckle. “I guess I'm just being a little creative.” Clearing your throat: "Ah, also I have seen the look on your face when I call you by your legal name. It's…" You sound remorseful. "...wrong, isn't it?"

My hand rests on your calf in an attempt to reassure you. Awkward, but the best I can do. "I, ah… hadn't the chance to change it, no."

You hum. "That can be solved. Ah, I do have knowledge of Hindi baby names."

"Uhm!" I can't help but laugh. You do too, frenzied bells ringing, hand gripping my thigh. "Like, I appreciate the forethought, but-"

"Oh, you know what I meant, Vanita!"

I nod but continue to giggle as you finish shaving me. I don't appreciate you making me think of mothering with you, only because I would love it so.

You finish, handing me a dusty hand mirror. I wipe the dust off and gasp. I cannot convey my relief when I see myself in its reflection, even with its cracks. Long blonde hair, calming gray eyes, a smile that tries its best… This is a me that I can see deserving to be one of the last two people on Earth.

"You clean up quite nicely, Idaya."

"I, uh… wow." I suppose that I do, but maybe the part that makes me feel beautiful is that I am with a beautiful woman, in her arms like I deserve it.

Our dinner is stew from a can. I took time to forage for tinder; we set our bowls on the edge of the cast-iron fireplace. "They should heat up soon," you promise.

We wait on the couch. I occasionally steal a look at you just to admire. The fireplace is warm and you'd forget that civilization had disappeared; it's never had a place here. I used to turn away when you find me out; I've tried to let go of that fear.

"Hello there, Ihita."

"Fond of the I names lately, I see."

"You look like a girl whose name starts with an I."

"I'm just happy to look like a girl at all."

"Of course." It feels like you inched closer; is it my imagination? "You have the conceit of womanhood in your hands now, Idaya. It is you."

I blush. "Rei, you make me sound like a goddess."

You touch my knee just below my pocket. "Do I, now?"

Oh, right.

"Reimi." I reach into my pocket and reveal the locket, cupping your hand as I place it in your grasp. "Um, this is for you."

You assess it with wide eyes, grasping the chain, holding the heart to your own. After too long: "I couldn't possibly keep this." Ashamed, you leave it in my hands. "What could I put inside of it?"

"I… assumed you had pictures published of your life before."

"I-I am afraid not, though. I, ah…" You shake your head vigorously, casting something off. "I did not have many who cared for me. My family…" You sigh. "It is what it is." You rest your head in your hands.

I close my eyes before my heart breaks. "That may have happened. But I'm here now, insisting that you take it." I hold it towards you. "So… please."

You blink twice before taking it. "You're so determined to see my smile. I'm… not used to that."

I don't say anything, but seeing the way your eyelids curl underneath your cheeks, feeling the way your emerald eyes grace me, I'm so happy to have succeeded.

It's easier to think of the world as ours when others do not try to take it away. Maybe we're not the last two women alive but I almost hope. People would forget the name assigned to me, and we would decide the future of the world. I'm grateful that you think I'm better than I think I am… but maybe I'm starting to feel the same.

Shameless, we lie in the bed of those once here before, only inches between us. I never ask you where you think the people went, the people who promised me death, the ones that made you doubt your right to be alive. The bible talks about a rapture claiming the righteous; if so, God underestimated how freeing it is to be a heathen.

"What are you thinking of, Arouni?"

You lie on your side. The clothes we poached are far too big on you and too small for me. Still, your tank top and my dress feel right for us, especially with how beautiful I feel in your eyes.

"Things," is all I give away.

"Things," you repeat, smiling. "What sort of things, Ashiah?"

"Oh! Well..." Gravitas floods the uncoordinated dance of my voice much like a million answers flood my mind. How lucky we are to have found each other, pariahs of the Earth now its only survivors. How your emerald eyes provide all the warmth and depth I will ever need. How the world is ending and yet I don't regret it, regret being the happiest I've ever been.

"Just... the names that you call me," I admit. You smile, your blush feeding a rumble inside of me. "I like them, but just… what do they mean?"

I expect a straightforward- scientific?- answer. Instead, you flush harder than ever. I've asked the right question.

"I, ah…" You scooch closer to me. "I…" With a laugh: "Why am I so shy now?"

Alienating the entire world is a scary prospect, so I take your hand, draping my right arm around you. "I can wait, Rei." Maybe now I know.

I look into your emerald eyes. For once, the world seems inviting and I am in love with it.