The streets lay drowned in mist, skeletal cars rusting in crooked lines. Broken glass cracked beneath their boots, the sound unnervingly loud in the dead air.
Imura led the way with effortless calm, every step unhurried but certain, as though even the ruined city parted for him. Saya trailed at his side, clutching his arm tightly, her body trembling at each distant howl.
Natsumi followed a few paces behind, knife in hand, jaw tight. Her eyes flicked between them with a bitterness she couldn't shake. She hated the way Saya clung, hated the way Imura allowed it, hated the fact that no matter how hard she glared, the sight only grew stronger.
Rin brought up the rear, every muscle taut, eyes scanning shadows with blade-sharp focus. She told herself she was watching for threats. She told herself it wasn't because she couldn't stop glancing at him.
The mist thinned as they reached a tall building, its glass front shattered into jagged fangs. An old office tower, half-collapsed, its bones exposed. Supplies might still linger.
Imura's gaze swept the ruin once, then he stepped inside without hesitation. The others followed.
The interior was a graveyard of cubicles and overturned desks. Papers littered the floor, brittle and yellowed. The air was thick with mildew and something faintly metallic.
Saya pressed closer to him, voice a whisper. "It's scary here…"
His hand rested lightly on her back. "Stay close."
She nodded eagerly, comforted instantly.
Rin's teeth ground at the sight. Her fingers twitched on the strap of her blade, fury and something hotter twisting in her gut.
They searched in silence. Drawers opened, old bags rifled through. Rusted cans, cracked bottles, mold-eaten food—mostly useless. But then Natsumi pried open a filing cabinet and froze.
"Water," she muttered, pulling out sealed bottles, dusty but intact.
Saya's eyes lit. "Really?"
Natsumi stacked them on the desk, her lips curling faintly with pride. But when Imura stepped over and picked one up, testing the seal before nodding approval, her pride twisted into envy again.
He didn't praise her. He didn't need to. His calm acceptance burned worse than rejection.
As they gathered supplies, the sound came—a faint scrape from deeper inside the building.
Rin stiffened instantly. Her hand flew to her blade.
"Something's here," she hissed.
Imura didn't flinch. He simply turned, gaze settling on the darkened hallway. His voice was calm. "Stay behind me."
The shadows stirred.
From the hall staggered two mutants—twisted, hunched things with limbs too long and jaws split wide with crooked teeth. Their eyes burned faintly red in the gloom.
Saya gasped, clinging to him tighter. "Imura—!"
He stepped forward, unshaken. "Calm."
Rin drew her blade, stance low, heart pounding. Natsumi lifted her knife with shaking hands, eyes darting.
The creatures shrieked and lunged.
Imura moved like a shadow given form. His hand snapped out, grabbing the first by the throat. Its screech choked off as he slammed it into the floor with a crack that echoed through the ruins. Before it could rise, he stomped once—its skull collapsed with a sickening crunch.
The second lunged at his back, but Rin was already moving. She slashed clean across its chest, the blade biting deep. The creature reeled with a wet howl.
Imura didn't even look back. He caught its arm as it swung, twisted, and tore it free from the socket in one brutal motion. The mutant collapsed, shrieking until his heel silenced it forever.
Silence returned, broken only by Saya's ragged breaths.
She pressed her face into him, trembling. "You're amazing…"
Imura rested a hand on her head, calm. "You're safe."
Rin stood frozen, blade dripping black blood. Her chest heaved, but not just from battle. Her eyes locked on him—on the ease, the certainty, the raw power that made the ruins themselves feel tamed.
Her heart raced traitorously.
Natsumi's jealousy burned hotter, her knuckles white around her knife. She wanted him to look at her like that. To rest his hand on her. But he didn't. He never did.
They gathered the bottles in silence.
When they left the building, the mist had thinned, sunlight breaking through the ruins in fractured beams. Saya's hand never left him. Natsumi's silence was sharp enough to cut. And Rin—Rin walked too close, eyes betraying her every time they strayed.
She had fought beside him. She had felt his shadow cover her.
And she knew, with a shiver she couldn't deny—each step bound her tighter.