"Fine, I'll let go."
The man's lips twitched before he released the mature woman. Tsunemura also pulled his foot away from the man sprawled on the ground. The woman scrambled over, half crawling, half stumbling, to shield her husband, sobbing as she covered him.
"Kakuta, are you so desperate for a woman that you've lost your damn mind?"
Fujishima kicked him sharply. Kakuta gave an awkward grin he knew Fujishima was throwing him a lifeline. Better to take a hit from Fujishima than provoke Sosuke Kitahara.
Just then, the last two men climbed out of the elevator. One was a burly, broad-shouldered man in his forties, eyes glaring like copper bells as he growled, "Aren't you guys from elevator maintenance? Who the hell are you really?"
"They still don't get the situation, huh?" Kasumigaoka Utaha murmured with a smirk.
Yukinoshita Haruno adjusted her submachine gun strap and sighed, "Once again, we're mistaken for gangsters. If the SMG could talk, it'd probably feel so wronged."
Kitahara's eyes swept over the group, thoughtful.
"Heh, we're street performers. Ever heard of that?"
Tsunemura hefted his machete with a cocky grin. The young man beside the burly stranger looked timid clearly no fighter but the burly man's glare only hardened. "Cut the crap. Call someone right now before I have you all killed."
"Oh, real tough guy, huh? Go ahead, make that call. If you can get anyone here, I'll admit defeat. But if you can't…" Tsunemura swung the machete, his face twisting into something feral. "...then I'm going to kill you right here."
Kakuta stepped forward, twirling his entrenching tool with open disdain. Kitahara had impressed him earlier, sure, but against these clowns? He wasn't the least bit intimidated.
"My, my, let's not get so heated. Why spill blood over something so small?"
Michiko's social instincts were honed razor-sharp; she'd learned long ago how to survive in high society. She quickly identified Fujishima as the leader and slipped her arm through his, giving it a gentle shake. Her soft, syrupy voice was like a fingertip brushing along a man's heartstrings.
Since his wife's death to the zombies, Fujishima had been hollow inside. Their marriage had been more about companionship than love, but having a woman someone he'd once only seen on TV cling to him like this stirred feelings he thought long gone. The warmth and softness pressed against his arm were enough to make him forget himself for a moment.
But as the leader of the settlement, Fujishima kept a façade of dignity. He exhaled through his nose and fixed the burly man with a hard stare, saying nothing.
Did these people truly not understand what was happening? Or were they just playing dumb?
Kitahara couldn't tell. If they'd genuinely been unaware, it would mean they'd been trapped here since the very first day of the outbreak. But then what had they been eating all this time? Why wasn't anyone starving?
Don't tell me…
Kitahara's eyes hardened. He really didn't want his suspicions confirmed.
Because if they were, he'd be spilling blood today. None of the five who stepped out of that elevator would leave alive.
He tightened his grip on the sword and drifted subtly toward the elevator.
"Michiko! Get over here. What's with talking to these penniless nobodies? You think I'm scared just 'cause they've got knives?"
The burly man's glare could have cut glass, but Michiko only frowned. "Okawa, watch your tone. You're just a bodyguard. Since when do I need your permission for who I spend time with? They saved us you could at least try some gratitude."
"My boss told me to protect you!" Okawa barked.
Before Tsunemura could explode again, Michiko's face darkened. "Enough! I know why he sent you. Don't think I don't. I'm not anyone's pet. Tell your boss we're done. From now on, he can keep his distance."
"You...you're cheating on the boss?!"
Okawa clenched his fists, stepping forward, but the young man behind him tugged urgently at his arm, pointing past him. "Okawa… look. His pants, his shoes see that black crust? It's just like the gunk that leaked from that lunatic in the elevator."
Kitahara stepped back from the elevator, expression unreadable. The entire group instinctively took a step away.
"You don't need to know who we are," Kitahara said evenly. "Tell me what happened. From the start. Every detail."
The mature woman whom Kitahara had helped earlier was the first to speak, voice trembling. "I… I don't know. The elevator broke down that day. We were calling for help when we heard horrible noises outside screaming, too. It was terrifying."
Michiko stepped forward, pointing toward the elevator. "For days, people kept pounding on the doors. No matter what we shouted, they wouldn't answer. Then one of our companions went mad, pinning people down and trying to bite them. If we hadn't worked together to restrain him, I can't imagine what would've happened."
"Anyone get bitten? Scratched?" Kitahara's tone was clinical.
Michiko shook her head. "No. He bit into a bag of frozen dumplings instead. Shattered it. We still almost couldn't hold him down… so we tried to knock him out, but…"
She trailed off and pointed silently at the elevator.
Kitahara had already seen the scene inside. He flicked on a flashlight again for Shizuka Hiratsuka, who had wandered closer. Inside, amid food wrappers and trash, lay a man's corpse his skull stomped to pulp.
"This is what you call 'knocking him out'?" Hiratsuka chuckled coldly. "Looks a lot like murder to me."
The mature woman shook her head frantically. "No! We had no choice it was self-defense!"
Kitahara's gaze was flat. "Murder, zombie doesn't matter. If killing zombies was a crime, none of us here would be innocent. I don't care that you killed him. I only care if you wouldn't."
"Z-zombies…?"
Faces drained of color. Some thought he was joking, but Michiko latched onto his words. "So it's true? I got so many messages saying the streets were full of madmen biting people, telling me to hide. Then I lost signal. Are they still out there?"
"You can talk it over. I'm heading down."
Kitahara didn't bother to weigh in on whether they should be brought to the settlement. He led Haruno and the others downstairs.
"Think Fujishima will take them in?" Haruno asked, eyes flicking to the bustling ground floor.
Yukino considered. "I doubt it. There's already bad blood. Bringing them in would be like planting a time bomb."
"The base needs people," Kitahara said simply.
"Not our problem. We won't be here long."
Utaha nudged Kitahara, pointing at a clothing shop. "Let's get you changed. Your pants are soaked in zombie blood you reek."
Ten minutes later, Kitahara stepped out in fresh clothes. They returned to the first floor just as Fujishima's group descended from the top level.
A scream cut through the noise. Michiko, pale and trembling, hurled herself into Fujishima's arms. He caught her by reflex, momentarily stunned by her softness before wrapping her in a protective embrace.
"It's okay. Just a pile of corpses. You're safe now. I'll protect you."
When she finally dared another glance at the escalator, she flinched and buried her face again.
"You're all so brave… you must be angels sent to save me." Her gaze shone with admiration.
Fujishima's chest swelled until he remembered most of the kills on that escalator belonged to Kitahara. He cleared his throat. "Actually, that was mostly Kitahara. I barely killed a few. But don't worry as long as we're alive, we won't let anything happen to you."
"Thank you… all of you are my heroes." Michiko's voice trembled with emotion before she kissed Fujishima's cheek.
Then she turned toward Kitahara only to find three women blocking her path. Haruno's amused gaze, Utaha's mocking smirk, and Yukino's icy, sword-sharp stare made Michiko pause.
"…Misunderstanding, I'm sure," she said lightly. "I only wanted to shake his hand in thanks."
"No need," Kitahara said, cutting her off. "Just doing my job."
Truth be told, she was beautiful but compared to someone like Mrs. Yuigahama? Not even close.
…Wait. Why was he thinking about Mrs. Yuigahama? Shouldn't it be Sawamura Sayuri?
Kitahara shook his head hard. Where had that come from?
He turned to Fujishima. "Where are the other four?"
"They went to the offices for some stuff. Don't want to come to the base. I'm letting Kakuta keep an eye on them, and when we're done here, they can leave on their own."
Kitahara thought it was sloppy, but Fujishima's mind was made up.
As Fujishima headed for the supermarket, Michiko's eyes filled with tears again. She clung to his arm. "They call me a femme fatale. Is it my fault I was born pretty? I've never broken up a marriage, never seduced anyone, yet people insist on misunderstanding me."
Fujishima patted her hand, heart aching.
From a distance, Haruno chuckled. "Looks like Fujishima's found a second spring."
Utaha smirked. "He's completely gone. But she seems to have her eye on someone else… we'd better keep an eye on him."
"Hey, hey, don't look at me like that," Kitahara protested.
Yukino shook her head, almost regretful. "If only I co
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