Kaori's Backstory
It was a simple home filled with memories of happier times, in stark contrast to the catastrophe unfolding beyond its walls. The Yomigaeri virus had spread rapidly throughout the city, transforming friends and neighbours into mindless, bloodthirsty animals.
Kaori, a 21-year-old nurse, had just finished an exhausting shift at the hospital. Her younger brother, Shota, was waiting for her in the living room, eyes fixed on the television, which was broadcasting news of the Yomigaeri virus outbreak on a constant loop. He was only fifteen, but his expression was way too serious for his age.
"Kaori, are we going to be okay?" Shota's voice trembled, barely masking his fear.
Kaori knelt beside him, forcing a smile she didn't feel. "Of course, Shota. We'll be fine. We just need to stay calm and stick together."
Even as she spoke, Kaori's mind was racing with the awful facts she had experienced at the hospital. She had seen the infected up close and witnessed how swiftly the virus transformed people into horrible versions of themselves. Her mind was still flooded with images of blood-stained walls and dying screams.
As the evening progressed, the noises of pandemonium outside became louder. Sirens shrieked, and distant gunfire pierced the darkness.
The reality of their situation became clear when they heard a tremendous crash from the front door, followed by guttural growls and furious pounding.
"They're here!" Shota sobbed, his voice breaking with fear.
Kaori grabbed Shota's arm and dragged him to the back of the house. "We need to get out, now!"
They dashed to the kitchen, where Kaori pulled a knife from the drawer. She could hear the front door splintering from the weight of the the attack. Her heart raced in her chest, and every fibre of her existence screamed for her brother's safety. Yet, deep within, a fundamental drive for self-preservation began to emerge.
As they approached the back door, Kaori saw with horror that they were stuck. The yard was crawling with infected, their eyes gleaming with a hunger that chilled her to the core. Shota clutched to her, shivering with horror.
"Kaori, what do we do?" He said in a frantic whisper.
Kaori's mind raced, assessing their options. The infected were closing in from both the front and the back. There was no time to consider; only act. In an instant, she made a decision that would haunt her for the rest of her life.
"Run, Shota! Go into the shed and hide!" She ordered, pulling him towards the back door.
"But what about you?" Shota's eyes widened with fear and perplexity.
"I'll be right behind you," she lied, her voice firm despite the sinking feeling in her stomach.
Shota hesitated, and Kaori shoved him forward, causing him to stumble out of the door. As he turned back to face her, she slammed the door shut, locking it from the inside.
"Kaori!" Shota's cry was muffled by the door, but she could hear him hammering on it, screaming with her to allow him back in.
Kaori backed away, tears streaming down her face. "I'm sorry, Shota. I'm so sorry," she whispered, knowing he couldn't hear her.
Shota served as a distraction as she sought an escape route.
As the infected closed in, Kaori realised that every second counted. She wiped the tears away, her expression grim and determined. She had to survive, even if it was just to honour Shota's legacy and find a way to set things right someday.
She made her way to one of the rooms and slipped through window, vanishing into the night, disappearing into the shadows as the infected flooded the house, their hunger pushing them to scour the rooms for human flesh.
As Kaori slipped away from her childhood home, she knew that her decision had saved her life but at a devastating cost.
Shota's last image was of his face, framed in the back door window, his eyes wide with betrayal and fear.
Three months had gone by since that night, but the recollections remained clear as ever. Kaori had survived the encounter, but the remorse over what she had done to her brother tore at her soul. She prayed he had escaped and found shelter. But deep down, she knew it wasn't true.
Kaori spent every day haunted by the picture of Shota's scared face, his screams reverberating in her head. To rescue herself, she had sacrificed the person she loved the most in the world, and the weight of that betrayal would haunt her for the rest of her life.
She wandered aimlessly every day, seeking for redemption, but Kaori knew the chances of redemption were tiny. The monsters outside were nothing compared to the one she saw in the mirror every day—the monster who had used her own brother as a shield in her frantic attempt to survive.
Despite her best efforts, Kaori's mind would often drift back to Shota. She could see his face in the faces of the young boys she encountered over time, and she would be overcome with guilt and sorrow.
Her guilt began to manifest in strange ways. She would wake in the middle of the night, gasping for air, her body covered in a cold sweat. Nightmares plagued her sleep, replaying the moment she had abandoned Shota over and over again in her mind.
Weeks passed before she discovered signs of resistance. Graffiti on walls pointed the route, with cryptic messages left for those who could read them. Kaori eventually ended up at a hospital after following these hints.
Kaori approached with caution, hands raised to indicate she was unarmed. Following a thorough check, the guards, apprehensive but not inhumane led her inside. For the first time in months, Kaori felt hopeful.
She was brought to Sato, the group's leader. Sato listened to Kaori's story uninterrupted, her countenance grave yet understanding.
"You've been through a lot," Sato replied softly. "We've all got our ghosts. Here, we try to make amends by assisting one another to survive. If you are willing, you can join us and work towards something better.