The pub was buzzing with the usual mix of post-shift exhaustion and relief. It had become our routine to meet up after work, a way to let off steam and share the day's insanity. The place was dimly lit, with the same old creaky tables and the constant murmur of people trying to forget about the apocalypse for a few hours.
Liza plopped herself down at our table, grabbing her beer and taking a long swig. She had that wild look in her eye—the kind she got when she was about to tell a ridiculous story.
"You guys are not gonna believe the shit I had to deal with today," Liza said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She leaned back in her chair, clearly ready to let loose.
"Oh, this sounds good," Daisy chimed in, raising an eyebrow as she sipped her drink. "What happened?"
Liza groaned, rolling her eyes. "I had to teach those damn kids about human reproduction."
There was a beat of silence, and then Ethan, sitting next to me, burst out laughing. "Wait, wait, you had to teach kids about sex? That's fucking gold."
Liza shot him a glare but couldn't help cracking a smile. "Yeah, real hilarious. You try talking about sperm and eggs without wanting to throw in a 'fuck' every other word. It's goddamn torture."
I leaned forward, curious. "So, how'd it go? You manage to get through it without swearing?"
"Barely," Liza said, shaking her head. "I swear, it's like every other sentence I was about to say something, and then I had to stop myself. Like, I was this close—" she held her fingers up, barely an inch apart, "—to blurting out something totally inappropriate."
Yabe, who had been quietly listening, looked a little concerned. "But you didn't, right? You didn't say anything... bad?"
Liza laughed, slamming her beer down on the table. "Nah, I kept it clean. Well, as clean as I can get. But man, it was frustrating. Like, these kids are asking all these innocent questions, and all I can think is how easy it would be to just say, 'Look, kids, your parents fucked, and now here you are.' But noooo, I had to be all, 'When a man and a woman come together, the sperm meets the egg.'"
Daisy snorted. "I would've paid to see you try to keep a straight face through that."
"It was painful," Liza said, rubbing her temples. "And of course, the kids were giggling the whole time, which made it worse. I'm standing there trying to explain the miracle of life, and they're laughing like I just told the world's dirtiest joke."
I chuckled, shaking my head. "That's gotta be rough. I mean, you're not exactly known for holding back when it comes to that stuff."
Liza pointed at me. "Exactly! You get it, Jake. It's like second nature for me to just say what's on my mind, but here I am, trying to be all 'professional' or whatever. I almost said 'ass' at one point, but I managed to change it to 'hard work.'" She rolled her eyes. "What a fucking joke."
Ethan leaned back, grinning. "So, you're telling me you didn't drop a single swear word the whole time? Not even one?"
"Nope," Liza said with a sigh. "I was on my best behavior. But God, it was hard. I swear, teaching kids about sex is like walking through a minefield. One wrong move, and boom—game over."
Daisy laughed, shaking her head. "Honestly, I don't know how you do it. I mean, I love kids and all, but teaching them about that? No thanks."
"Oh, it's not even the subject that's the problem," Liza said, leaning forward. "It's just... how do you explain something so normal in a way that doesn't make it sound ridiculous? Like, I'm standing there drawing diagrams and shit, and all I can think is, 'They're gonna learn the real details eventually, so what's the point of sugarcoating it?'"
"Yeah, but they're kids," I pointed out, trying not to laugh. "They probably don't need to hear the full play-by-play just yet."
Liza groaned. "Yeah, yeah, I know. But still, it felt like I was holding back this flood of truth, you know? Like, these kids are gonna be in for a rude awakening one day, and I'm over here, feeding them this half-assed version of reality."
Daisy smirked. "So, what'd you almost say? I know you had some gems lined up."
Liza grinned, her eyes lighting up. "Oh, man. When I was talking about sperm, I almost said, 'It's a hell of a race,' but I caught myself and said, 'It's a wild race' instead. And there was this one kid who asked, 'Does it hurt?' I was so close to saying, 'Hell yeah, it hurts,' but I managed to keep it PG and said, 'Yeah, it can hurt, but moms are amazing for going through that.'"
I couldn't help but laugh, imagining Liza standing in front of a classroom full of kids, struggling to keep her usual unfiltered self in check. "Honestly, I'm surprised you made it through the whole thing without dropping an f-bomb."
Liza threw up her hands in mock frustration. "Trust me, I was tempted. But I didn't want to get fired on my first week, you know?"
Ethan raised his beer, toasting her. "Here's to surviving the kids' questions and keeping your mouth in check."
We all clinked our mugs together, the sound ringing out over the noise of the pub. Liza took another long swig of her beer, looking satisfied with herself.
"I swear," she said, leaning back in her chair, "next time, I'm just gonna tell them to ask their parents. Let them deal with the awkwardness."
Daisy chuckled, shaking her head. "You're braver than me, Liza. I'd rather face a horde of zombies than explain sex to a bunch of kids."
"Tell me about it," Liza muttered. "Next time, I'm bringing a damn hand puppet or something. At least that way I can blame the puppet if I slip up."
Yabe, ever the voice of reason, smiled gently. "You did great, Liza. The fact that you're teaching those kids anything at all is amazing."
Liza grinned. "Yeah, I guess. Just remind me to never sign up for that lesson again."
We all laughed, and for a while, the tension of the day faded away. Liza's frustration with the kids and her near-slip-ups became another story to add to the growing list of ridiculous moments we'd shared since all this began.
Daisy, Ethan, Liza, and I were already digging into our plates—nothing fancy, just some stew and bread—but Yabe hadn't touched hers.
She sat there, staring at her food, her face pale. She poked at the stew with her spoon, but she hadn't taken a single bite. Something was off. Usually, Yabe was quiet, sure, but tonight, she looked... haunted.
Daisy noticed it first. She glanced at Yabe, her brows furrowed in concern. "Hey, Yabe. You alright? You've barely touched your food."
Yabe shook her head, pushing the bowl away a little. "I... I'm not really hungry."
Liza, always one to crack a joke, leaned forward, grinning. "What, the tavern's gourmet stew not doing it for you? Can't blame you—it looks like something crawled out of the apocalypse and died in there."
Ethan snorted, but Yabe didn't laugh. She just gave a weak smile, her eyes still focused on the table.
I set my spoon down, leaning in a little closer. "Seriously, Yabe. What's wrong?"
She hesitated for a moment, her hands fidgeting in her lap. "I don't want to ruin anyone's appetite."
Liza rolled her eyes. "We're in the apocalypse, Yabe. It's gonna take a hell of a lot to ruin our appetite."
I could see the tension in Yabe's shoulders, the way she was curling in on herself. Something was really bothering her. "It's okay," I said, my voice soft but reassuring. "If you need to talk, we're here."
Yabe let out a shaky breath, her eyes darting around the tavern as if she was afraid someone else might hear. Then, in a hushed voice, she spoke.
"Today at the clinic... a man came in," she began, her voice trembling. "His stomach was... cut open. Part of his intestines were hanging out." She paused, swallowing hard, her hands shaking slightly. "I thought I was going to pass out, or throw up, or both. I just... I couldn't move."
The table went silent. Even Liza, who usually had something smart to say, was quiet now. Yabe continued, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Hazuki, she's another nurse there, she snapped me out of it. Told me to focus. I handed her the tools she needed while she stitched him back together." Yabe's eyes were wide, as if she was reliving the moment. "I've never seen anything like that. The blood... the smell. It was everywhere. I thought he was going to die right there in front of me."
Daisy set her fork down, her expression softening. "Damn, Yabe. That sounds rough."
Yabe nodded, her hands still trembling slightly. "I couldn't even eat after that. Every time I look at food now, I just see... that man. His stomach. The way it looked, open like that." She closed her eyes for a moment, her breath shaky. "I don't know how Hazuki does it. She just... stayed calm. Like she's seen it a million times before."
I reached over and put a hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You did great, Kohai," I said quietly. "You stayed. You helped. That's not easy."
Yabe shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. "But I almost didn't. I froze. I wasn't ready for that."
"No one's ready for that," Ethan chimed in, his voice surprisingly gentle. "You're not a robot. You're human. And you're new to this. Hell, I would've passed out if I saw what you did."
Daisy nodded in agreement. "Yeah, you're way tougher than you think, Yabe. You didn't run. You didn't freak out. That's something."
Yabe sniffed, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. "But what if I mess up next time? What if someone dies because I can't keep it together?"
Liza leaned forward, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "You won't mess up. You're stronger than you give yourself credit for. And if Hazuki's anything like what you described, she's got your back. You're not doing this alone."
There was a long silence as Yabe took it all in, her eyes still fixed on the table. I could tell she was struggling with the weight of it, the reality of what this world had become, and the responsibilities that had been thrust on her.
"We all have those moments," I said quietly, my voice low enough that only she could hear. "Moments where we feel like we're not strong enough. Like we're gonna break. But you didn't. You stayed. And that makes you strong."
Yabe looked up at me, her eyes wet but determined. "Thanks, Senpai," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
I smiled, squeezing her shoulder again. "Anytime."
The mood around the table was somber, but it felt like the weight on Yabe's shoulders had lifted, even if just a little. She still wasn't eating, but at least now she wasn't sitting in silence, drowning in her thoughts. She had spoken, shared her burden, and we were here for her.
"Next time, you'll be more prepared," Daisy said, her tone matter-of-fact. "It's not about being fearless, Yabe. It's about showing up. And you showed up today."
Yabe gave a small nod, her hands still resting on her lap. "I'll try," she whispered.
Ethan raised his glass. "To showing up," he said with a crooked grin. "And to Yabe, the toughest nurse in Banff."
We all raised our glasses, even Yabe, though she barely took a sip. But the gesture was there, and that was enough for now.
As the conversation drifted to lighter topics, the heaviness of the moment started to fade. Yabe didn't say much for the rest of the night, but she stayed with us, and that was something.
We were all carrying our own scars—some fresh, some old—but in moments like this, it helped to know that we weren't carrying them alone.
Q: Have you ever been to a bar?