For a while, the room was filled with nothing but the soft echo of Aria’s quiet crying.

Tears had a sound when the world was broken like this—small, uneven breaths, the faint hitch in someone’s chest as they tried to pull themselves back together.

Slowly, that sound faded. Aria’s shoulders stopped shaking. She wiped her face with the sleeve of her uniform, eyes red but steadier now, thanks to Chisato’s constant, gentle patting and Takina’s calm presence beside her.

Silence returned—but softer this time.
Shu stirred beneath the blankets.

His eyelashes fluttered, and he let out a small breath as consciousness crept back in.

The room came into focus piece by piece. Dust floating in the sunlight. Broken furniture pushed aside. Chisato and Takina kneeling, holding Aria between them. Rokuro still sitting where he had been, chewing thoughtfully. Shimon standing against the wall, straight and watchful like a statue carved out of discipline.

Shu pushed himself up slightly, rubbing his eyes.

“…Aria?” he whispered.

She looked up at him immediately, offering a weak smile.

“Hey. You’re awake again.”

Before Shu could respond, a sound reached them.

Soft.
Measured.
Footsteps.

Every muscle in the room tensed at once.

Chisato froze mid-motion. Takina’s hand instinctively moved closer to her side. Rokuro straightened, setting his can down. Shimon’s posture shifted subtly, alert and ready.

Shu’s heart skipped.

The footsteps drew closer.

Then a figure appeared in the doorway.
He stood there for a moment, framed by dust and dim light.

A boy in a Hoshikawa uniform—torn, burned at the edges. His black hair was messy, streaked with ash. A bag hung from his hand, clenched tightly, knuckles pale. He wasn’t muscular, but lean and sharp in a way that spoke of constant movement, constant survival.

He looked exhausted.

But his eyes were calm.

They scanned the room quickly—counting heads, measuring safety—until they landed on the bed.

On Shu.

Shu’s breath caught. His eyes filled instantly, tears blurring his vision.
The boy’s expression softened.

Johnny smiled.

“Hey, little bro.”

Shu didn’t think.

He threw the blankets aside and sat up, his voice breaking. “Big brother!”

Aria sucked in a sharp breath.

The tension she’d been holding snapped all at once as she stood, relief crashing over her. She pressed a hand to her chest, eyes shining as she took a deep, steadying breath.

“You’re okay…” she whispered.

Johnny stepped fully into the room, the door creaking softly behind him. Chisato and Takina watched him closely—curious, cautious, impressed all at once.

Shimon spoke first, his tone level.

“So. How are things outside?”

Johnny’s smile faded.

He looked down, shoulders sagging just a little. “Really, really bad.”

The room stilled.

“I was trying to find a way out,” Johnny continued. “Any route. Any place that wasn’t crawling with them.”

His fingers tightened around the bag.

“But it’s no use,” he admitted. “They’re everywhere. Most buildings are burnt down. Fires still spreading. There are fewer zombies now… but the ones left are worse. Smarter. Harder to avoid.”

He exhaled slowly. “We’re not getting out of here anytime soon.”

No one spoke.

Hope wavered.

Even Chisato fell silent.

They all looked down, the weight of reality settling heavily on their shoulders. Living felt harder now.

Surviving even more so.

And yet…

Johnny’s lips curved upward again.
Just a little.

“But,” he said, lifting the bag, “I did find something.”

He opened it.

The sound of metal clinking together echoed through the room.

Canned food.
Spoons.
Water bottles.
For a heartbeat, no one moved.
Then—

“REALLY?!” Chisato shouted.

Everyone surged forward like rockets.
Rokuro laughed. “No way!”

Shimon’s eyes widened slightly—barely noticeable, but enough.

Aria let out a shaky laugh, covering her mouth. “Johnny…”

Shu stared at the bag like it was treasure.

Johnny set it down and began handing things out calmly.

“Eat slow. Don’t waste it.”

Chisato popped open a can immediately, eyes lighting up as she took a bite.

“This tastes SO GOOD!” she declared dramatically. “I swear, this is five-star food.”

Takina opened her own can, eating quietly—but the relief in her posture said everything.

Chisato leaned closer, waving her can teasingly. “Jealous, Takina? Mine tastes better.”

Takina shot her a glare. “They’re the same.”

“Liar.”

“They’re literally the same brand.”

Chisato leaned closer, squinting at Takina’s can.

“Wait. Why does yours look bigger?”

“It isn’t.”

“Are you sure? It looks bigger.”

“It’s the same size.”

Chisato tilted her head. “Maybe it feels bigger because you’re smaller.”

Takina paused mid-bite. “…What.”

Rokuro burst out laughing.

Takina shot Chisato a flat glare. “Eat your food.”

“I am eating,” Chisato said cheerfully. “I’m just multitasking.”

Takina sighed. “You’re impossible.”

“Wow,” Chisato grinned, leaning even closer. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Takina’s eye twitched.

Meanwhile, Rokuro had turned toward Shimon with a grin far too relaxed for the moment.

“So,” Rokuro said casually, popping open his own can, “if we’re stuck here… you think zombies sleep?”

Shimon didn’t look at him. “No.”

“Huh. Not even naps?”

“No.”

Rokuro leaned back, stretching. “You sure? I mean, even soldiers need rest.”

Shimon’s jaw tightened. “Zombies are not soldiers.”

“True,” Rokuro nodded thoughtfully. “But you kinda act like one.”

Silence.

Shimon finally turned, eyes sharp. “And you act like a liability.”

“Ouch,” Rokuro laughed. “Harsh.”

Chisato nearly choked laughing.

Takina glanced over—and froze.

Rokuro was doing exactly what Chisato was doing to her.

She slowly turned back to Chisato, who was now poking Takina’s arm.

“Hey,” Chisato whispered loudly, “are you mad?”

Takina clenched her spoon. “No.”

“You look mad.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re totally mad.”

Takina’s gaze flicked back to Rokuro and Shimon—Rokuro grinning, Shimon visibly annoyed but holding it in.

Her shoulders slumped.

“…Unbelievable.”

At the same moment, Shimon glanced over.

He saw Takina’s expression.
He saw Chisato leaning too close.
He saw the parallel.

His eye twitched.

Slowly, Takina and Shimon turned toward each other.

They exchanged a long, tired look.

Then, at the exact same time, completely done—

“They are the same,” Takina said.

“They are the same,” Shimon echoed.

Rokuro snorted. “I think Chisato’s tastes better because she talks more while eating.”

Shimon frowned. “Eat properly. You’re attracting attention.”

Rokuro grinned. “Relax. Even zombies would get annoyed listening to her.”

Chisato gasped. “Hey!”

Johnny chuckled softly.

He walked over and handed two cans to Shu and Aria.

“Here you go. You two.”

Shu took it with both hands, bowing his head slightly. “Thank you, big brother.”

Aria smiled, eyes warm. “Thanks, Johnny.”

As they ate together—laughing, bickering, breathing—the ruined world outside felt a little farther away.

Just for now.

Just enough.

And for the first time hope didn’t feel completely impossible.
The last of the canned food was finished slowly.

No one rushed it this time.

Metal lids were set aside with care, placed one by one near the wall, as if even the sound of waste felt wrong in a world where nothing could be replaced.

One by one, they lifted their water bottles, taking small, measured sips. The cool liquid slid down dry throats, grounding them—reminding them that they were still alive.

For a brief moment, there was almost peace.

Johnny wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and reached for the bag again.

He opened it.

The sound of metal clinking echoed too loudly in the quiet room. He didn’t need to count twice. His fingers paused, hovering over the remaining supplies.

A few cans.
A few bottles of water.
Not enough.

Enough to survive, maybe… two days. Three, if they were careful. If nothing went wrong.

His jaw tightened, the muscles flexing as he tied the bag shut and set it beside him.

The others noticed immediately.

Rokuro leaned back against the wall, folding his arms, eyes narrowing slightly.

“How bad is it?”

Johnny didn’t answer right away.

He sat there for a moment, staring at the bag like it might magically refill itself if he waited long enough. Then he exhaled slowly.

“We can’t stay here forever,” he said.

Silence answered him. Not shocked silence. Not confused silence.

The kind that already knew.

Without speaking, they shifted—finding places, forming a loose circle like instinct guided them.

Survivors always gravitated toward one another when hard decisions had to be made.

Johnny sat on the edge of a broken table, one leg cracked but still holding. Chisato and Takina leaned against the wall, Aria sitting beside them with her knees pulled in close to her chest. Shu stayed on the blanket, hands resting tensely in his lap. Rokuro and Shimon sat opposite them, backs to the far wall, eyes sharp and watchful.

Johnny rested his elbows on his knees, fingers interlaced.

“We’ve got food for maybe two or three days,” he said evenly. “After that… we starve.”

The word hung in the air.

Chisato crossed her arms tightly, shoulders lifting.

“So…” she said, forcing a crooked smile, “we move.”

Takina nodded once. “We have to.”

Aria’s hands tightened around her sleeves.

“But outside is dangerous,” she said softly. “You said it yourself.”

Johnny met her eyes without hesitation.

“It is.”

Shu’s fingers curled into fists. His voice came out smaller than he meant it to.

“Then… why go?”

Johnny turned toward him instantly, his expression softening.

“Because staying is worse.”

Shu swallowed, nodding slowly.

Rokuro ran a hand through his messy hair.

“Even if we wait it out, the noise, the smell…”

He grimaced. “Zombies will find this place eventually.”

Shimon spoke next, voice quiet and precise.

“Static locations are unsafe. Especially damaged buildings.”

Chisato let out a sharp breath and laughed nervously.

“Great. So it’s either get eaten here or get eaten outside.”

Takina shot her a sharp look. “Stop saying ‘eaten.’”

Chisato winced. “Sorry. Bad habit. Stress thing.”

Johnny lifted a hand slightly, palm open—a silent signal to calm down. Everyone quieted.

“Listen,” he said.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded, worn map. The edges were burned slightly, corners bent from being opened too many times. He spread it out on the table carefully, smoothing the creases with his fingers like the map itself was fragile.

“This is the area,” he said, tapping a point. “We’re here.”

Everyone leaned in.

“There’s a supermarket,” Johnny continued, tracing a short route with his finger.

“A few blocks away. If anything survived the fires, it’ll be there.”

Aria bit her lip. “Food… water… maybe medicine.”

“Or zombies,” Rokuro added dryly.

Johnny nodded once. “Most likely.”

Shu’s throat tightened. “But if we don’t go…”

“We won’t last,” Johnny finished gently.

For a moment, fear flickered across every face.

Then something else replaced it.
Resolve.

Chisato straightened her back, clenching her fists.

“Then we go together. No splitting up.”

Takina’s voice was firm, almost military.

“We move fast. Quiet. No unnecessary noise.”

Shimon nodded. “I’ll take the rear. If anything follows us, I’ll handle it.”

Rokuro cracked a small smile. “Guess that leaves me making sure no one panics.”

Chisato snorted. “Good luck with that.”
Johnny looked around at them—really looked. Seven people. Scared. Tired. Alive.

“Good,” he said quietly.

He folded the map and stood, slinging the bag over his shoulder.

“We move at first light. Rest now. Save energy.”

Shu looked up at him, fear still there—but steadier now. “I’ll be ready.”

Johnny reached out and ruffled Shu’s hair gently. “I know you will.”

Aria watched them, a faint smile tugging at her lips despite everything.

Outside, the world burned—sirens long dead, fires still smoldering, shadows moving where they shouldn’t.

Inside, seven survivors chose to move forward.

Because in a world of ruins, standing still wasn’t safety.