"You're not even cautious around me anymore. Don't you think your noise just lured in a lot of uninvited guests?"
Yami's golden eyes studied her calmly.
He had been watching her the whole time, and honestly he was impressed. For someone like her, surviving this long was no small feat.
Utaha, however, just brushed her hair back and gave a faint, weary smile.
"I think… if Tsukishiro-kun is standing here, then I don't have anything to fear."
"ROAR!" — "Gahhh!!"
The ground shook as more than a dozen mutant beasts poured in from every direction, drawn by the earlier explosions.
"!!"
Utaha's hands tightened around her pistol, knuckles white. Her body trembled despite her words.
No matter how composed she acted, those crimson, hungry eyes tearing through the dark made her heart pound like a trapped bird.
"…You're clever with words," Yami chuckled, shaking his head, "but your body's more honest than your mouth."
The shadows under his feet surged outward like blades.
"Ghhk?!—"
In the blink of an eye, the beasts' heads and bodies split apart, dissolving into motes of light before they could even cry out.
"—!!"
Utaha froze.
She had known he was strong, but seeing him end a dozen monsters instantly from hundreds of meters away… that kind of power was beyond comprehension.
It explained everything, the impossible score, the way his name towered over the rankings.
The shadows melted back into the ground, as if nothing had happened.
Before Yami could say anything, Utaha raised her voice, her eyes sharp despite the tremor in her hands.
"…Do you remember what you told me?"
"Hm?" Yami tilted his head.
She met his gaze directly, her voice steady even as her grip trembled.
"You said… if we met again, I had to learn to fight. To use weapons. To kill mutant beasts with guns and grenades."
"…Heh."
Yami's expression softened slightly. He hadn't expected her to hold onto those words.
"Yeah. You did it. I'll admit it—you're no vase."
It wasn't flattery. It was recognition. The simple truth.
Utaha exhaled slowly, tension leaving her shoulders as her lips curved ever so slightly.
But before she could savor the moment, Yami's tone shifted again, calm but carrying a weight that pressed on the air between them
"If you're wandering alone out here, avoiding supply points… it must be because you're worried about what people might do to you, right?"
Yami's golden eyes gleamed faintly. His tone was casual, but his words cut straight to the heart.
"So tell me—if you want to follow me now, aren't you afraid I'll do the same? That I might use your beauty as an excuse?"
He expected hesitation. Maybe even fear.
Instead, Utaha limped a few steps closer, her expression calm almost bored.
"You wouldn't be interested in me looking this pathetic. If surviving means accepting the risk, so be it. Besides..." she glanced at him, voice as sharp as it was soft.
"You're handsome enough. If I lose, I'll take the loss with grace."
"…You're surprisingly free-spirited."
Yami was caught off guard.
In his memories, Kasumigaoka Utaha had always been the sharp-tongued novelist who could cut people down with a few words. Yet here, in the shadow of death, that "poison" didn't surface at all.
No, the person in front of him wasn't some caricature or trope. She was a real human being—resilient, calculating, and braver than she looked.
Just like Yuigahama had once shown him her stubborn kindness.
Just like Yukinoshita's pride was tinged with genuine conviction.
Just like Hiratsuka-sensei's strength had never needed her "iron fist" to command respect.
Maybe that was the truth of this world. Not tropes, not stereotypes—just people, shaped by choices.
"—ghh!"
Utaha gasped, pain lancing through her calf as she stumbled. Her balance gave way, and she closed her eyes, bracing for the impact of the cold floor
but instead, she fell into warmth.
A steady hand, firm and unyielding, caught her before she hit the ground.
Her cheek pressed against a chest that radiated security.
"…Your effort worked. You've convinced me."
For a moment, Utaha froze in his arms. Then, as her body relaxed, the corners of her lips curled in the faintest smile—hidden from his view.
"By the way," Yami continued calmly, "I'm not planning to head back to the supply point. I'm going to keep hunting. The faster we end this farce, the better."
He looked down at her, expression unreadable.
"So, should I drop you off at a supply point where you'll be safe… or will you come with me?"
Utaha pressed her lips together. She wanted to follow. But she knew the truth, her injury would slow him down. She would be a burden.
Before her doubt could fester, Yami spoke again, blunt and certain.
"Don't think of yourself as dead weight. You've already proven yourself. Bringing you along won't change anything."
It was like his tone said: at worst, you're no heavier than a child I have to carry.
Her chest warmed at the quiet confidence in his voice. She clenched her fists, raised her eyes, and said firmly:
"…Then please, let me go with you."
Yami smiled faintly and nodded.
"Alright. But first your wound needs to be re-bandaged."
He led her to a crumbling wall and gestured for her to sit. Then, reaching into the shifting darkness at his feet, he pulled out bottles, cloth, and disinfectant.
Utaha's eyes widened. To her, it looked like magic, supplies emerging from pure shadow.
Her voice slipped out before she could stop it.
"…What are you, exactly?"
--
𝘼/𝙉: 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙍-18 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚...𝙄'𝙫𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙩, 𝙨𝙤 𝙜𝙤 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧! 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 (𝙋𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧 𝙎𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙨) 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙮 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡 𝙊𝙣𝙚 𝙋𝙞𝙚𝙘𝙚: 𝘿𝙚𝙫𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙂𝙤𝙡 𝘿. 𝙍𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩!
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