"Yup," Yuto answered, adjusting his stance and brushing dust off his uniform. "Thankfully, I managed to get a hold of a knife, and Denji was able to kill it."
Astrid rolled her eyes in irritation, flipping Yuto off as she stormed out of the room. The tension in her shoulders was unmistakable, her hurried steps echoing faintly in the hallway. She slid open the door to the next room, where Denji and Yuna were laughing, the warm sound a stark contrast to her troubled mood.
"Hey, guys," Astrid sighed heavily, dropping onto one of the chairs with a weariness that seemed to seep from her very soul. Her arms dangled limply at her sides as she stared at the floor.
Denji and Yuna exchanged concerned glances. They could feel the weight of her worry in the air.
"What's wrong, Astrid?" Yuna ventured hesitantly, her voice soft but probing.
Astrid buried her face in her hands, her fingers trembling slightly. "They're still not back. What if… what if something happened to them?"
Denji let out a chuckle, his tone light, though his eyes flickered with reassurance. "To Isamu and Takumi? C'mon, Astrid. That's almost impossible. They're some of the strongest people I know. And that's without considering how smart they are."
Yuna nodded firmly, her lips curving into a small smile. "Takumi is just... different. I've been in the same class with him for the past two years. He practically aces everything—he's a genius."
Astrid and Denji turned to her in surprise, eyebrows shooting up. "He is?!" they both exclaimed in unison, their disbelief breaking the tension momentarily.
Day 8
"Isamu, wake up, buddy."
A groggy Isamu blinked awake, his eyes adjusting to the dim gymnasium light as dawn was setting in. Hovering above him was Sato, grinning with a casual wave.
'Oh, not this guy again,' Isamu groaned inwardly. 'Finally, a break from those depressing classroom ceilings, and he just had to ruin the fresh experience.'
Stretching lazily, he got to his feet, his joints popping audibly. Sato mimicked the movement, his playful smirk unwavering.
"What do you want, Sato?" Isamu asked, his tone flat with mild annoyance.
Sato raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "What do you mean? I'm just stretching. The floor wasn't exactly a memory foam mattress, you know."
Isamu rolled his eyes. "Maybe if you passed on peacefully instead of sticking around to haunt me, you wouldn't have to sleep on the floor."
"I'm not haunting you Isamu, you're haunting you, I'm just the face. And for the record, I didn't actually sleep on the floor."
Isamu flopped back down with a sigh. "I know dumbass, I'm just f**king with you, like you do with me."
"Or do you mean like you do with yourself?"
Isamu groaned. "I'm not gonna debate on the terms right now, Sato."
"Who are you talking to?" a sleepy voice interrupted from behind. Takumi sat up, rubbing his eyes, his bandaged ankle sticking out awkwardly.
'Damn it. What was I thinking, speaking out loud?' Isamu thought, panic bubbling under his calm façade.
Letting out a nervous laugh, he shrugged. "Oh, just… thinking out loud. Planning what we should do next."
Takumi's sharp gaze lingered. "You mentioned Sato… you feeling guilty about that night?"
Isamu's heart sank, his face going blank. Closing his eyes, he gave a reluctant nod. 'Great. Now he really thinks I'm nuts.'
Takumi adjusted his bandage, his movements deliberate. "Didn't Sato trip that night? On a bottle—your bottle. The one you dropped when he wasn't looking." His voice was casual but tinged with something cold and calculating.
Isamu's eyes widened. 'What the f**k?! How the hell does he know?'
Takumi chuckled softly. "Relax, Isamu, I just happened to turn back and see it that night. I'm not accusing you. Honestly, I was relieved when he tripped. He drank from the fountain, didn't he? He was probably infected. You saved us from having to kill him later, after turning into one of those walking pieces of sh*ts."
A strange sensation coursed through Isamu—relief, mixed with apprehension. 'He… understands. But he still knows, about what I did. He could tell someone and to be honest I don't think anyone else is actually gonna accept it like Takumi.'
Takumi's voice softened. "I can see you stressing Isamu. You worried that I'm gonna tell the rest of the group? Please, I know they won't understand. They have been living only thanks to you, they don't realize the tough calls have to be made. So I'll keep it to myself, don't worry about it."
Isamu stared at him, trying to decipher the sincerity behind the words. 'What is this weird feeling… Takumi is like me. It could just be an act but he plays it too well for it to be a lie if that's the case. And he wouldn't even have a reason to lie, maybe to manipulate me but how, it wouldn't make any sense.'
Takumi groaned as he got to his feet, wincing slightly. "Uhhh, how 'bout you help me walk around here? We need to get back up there, they probably ate the last of the food this morning and we didn't have much water last time either."
Isamu chuckled, rising to help. "Yeah, and they probably think we're hoarding the food for ourselves in the cafeteria."
They paced the gymnasium, the silence broken by a sudden scream. The raw, desperate cry of a girl.
"Help me!"
Takumi limped toward one of the barred windows, squinting at the scene outside. Isamu joined him, his stomach twisting at the sight. A horde of the dead surrounded a man's lifeless body, their grotesque forms hunched over it, while a girl stumbled away, her cries piercing the air.
"Should we help her?" Takumi asked, his voice even.
Isamu's mind raced. 'If Takumi is really like me, he'll let this one slide. He's injured and there are too many dead around our door. We have to leave her to fend for herself.'
Takumi sighed, stepping back from the window. "Never mind, I almost forgot the dead at our door. I guess she'll unfortunately have to fend for herself."
Isamu shivered, a chill creeping up his spine. 'That's exactly what I thought.'