Chapter Text
“Building’s been compromised,”
The radio cackles static in response, a sigh barely audible on the other end, “Take the south alley back then. Miyuki is waiting in the pick-up.”
Reon nods, more as a habit than anything else, and hauls his duffel bag over his shoulder securely. He’s safe in his spot in the shadows, just out of detection from the group of people on the other side of the wire fence. No , he shakes his head, they weren’t people anymore .
“If you don’t come to terms with that, then you’ll be one of them soon enough.” Kenta said that day, sleeves rolled up and stained. The metal frame of the gun on his hand glistened under the dim light of the room. Behind him, the… manager of the live house―
He looks up when he hears the back door of the building creak open, finding Nayuta trudging towards him with a passive expression. Reon motions for him, and Nayuta ducks under the shadows, pulling up his hood. Reon stares at him for a split second, lips pursed, but decided against it and turns on his heels, half-crouched. Just as he was about to speak up, an echoing groan resounds near them.
Shit.
He stops, breath held back. It sounds too near for comfort, and its heavy dragging footsteps were an indicator that it wasn’t stopping there. Last he checked, there were three of them over at the corner. With a steady hand, he reaches over to his holster and grips the cool metal handle of his pistol. He’s only got a single full cartridge considering this was only supposed to be a quick scavenge for supplies. But then certain someone decided to run back to their sharehouse without informing them beforehand.
He’s not the best shooter (he’s getting there) but he’s sure the noise will only be calling for more hordes to find them. Should he make a move back? It’s risky with no other visuals of the other open spaces-
Suddenly he’s jerked back and he makes a small gasp when Nayuta hauls him back to his feet. At the same time, the vocalist brings down a metal bat against the side of the person’s― infected’s ― face, toppling them over. The infected screams as a reaction more than pain and the other beings around it respond in a frenzied garble.
Reon curses and pulls out his pistol, “Seriously, Nayuta?!”
“Stop hesitating and move!”
Nayuta gives him a glare and makes a run for the mazes of the back alley. It only took Reon one more look at the scrambling undead to follow behind him begrudgingly. The screams and groans of their pursuers echo in the tight spaces, but at least they got the head start. Under the cover of the night, it’s easier to move around out of people’s usual vision, but they’re up against those that smell, respond, and hunt for blood and life. Infected people. Those that died and were brought back in the most unfortunate way possible.
“This way!” Reon manages to grab the back Nayuta’s bag before he got too far, pulling him into another alley to the right and into an open space, “Miyuki-san!!”
On cue, he hears the engine of the car rev up and a single headlight flashes briefly in their vision before being turned off. Miyuki’s smile quickly switches to a more serious expression when he hears the distant voices of the infected, straightening up and preparing for the getaway.
Reon makes quick work of jumping over to the back of the pickup truck, steadying himself as he holds up his pistol and aiming it at the alley. Once he hears the doors slam shut, the car starts moving with a loud screech, farther and faster, until he was sure that the infected were trailing miles away from them.
Finally, his grip on the gun loosens. He shoves it back on his hip holster just as disbelief finally catches up to his mind.
“Nayuta, what the hell were you thinking?!” He shouts, barely even managing to open the small window connecting him to the driver’s seat. He can’t get a good look at the man’s face to give him a proper glare, so he hopes that the rear view mirror reflecting his annoyance was enough to bounce it back to Nayuta.
Wordlessly, Nayuta opens his bag.
“Ren, there you are. We should stick with the others, you know?”
The door creaks open as Banri strides into the room. The cold air seeps in through the broken windows and a pale curtain flutters with the wind. It smells of dust and burnt paper while electric wires hang from the light fixtures on the ceiling. Ren almost blended in with the dank room if it weren’t for his bright blue hair. Their once white stage attire is now replaced with thicker black coats. Ren’s gaze didn’t falter, leading the other to sigh and walk over to him and follow the direction of his sight.
“It used to be so crowded on Sundays…”
The intersection of the roads can be seen from their spot up in the building― their temporary hideout until they can find another with more supplies. The streets below them were littered with rubble, cars abandoned and overturned, and stains that had seeped into the concrete as reminders of what lurks out in the open. And most of all, it was quiet. That silence became their enemy; Anything that breaks it sends hordes scampering towards the source of the sound.
“Now there’s nobody here,”
Another sigh, louder this time, and a hard pat on the back, “There’s some people out there, Ren-kun. We just have to find them and then we’ll find a way out of this mess,”
Ren nods. His faint smile was enough for Banri to mirror it on his own.
“Now c’mon. We gotta help them pack before nightfall.”
“Un!”
They make their way back outside of the room, towards the stairs that were at the far end of the hallway. Their footsteps echo against the tiled floor. There was glass, splinters, and ripped wallpaper scattered everywhere. Wrecked doors open up to even more damaged rooms. Signs of struggle. Dried blood stains.
“Ren,” Wataru says, pausing at the foot of the stairs to give Ren a stern look, “Stay here. We’ll.. We’ll check what’s upstairs,”
“There’s safety in numbers, is it not?” Rio asks, which earned him another pointed look from the bassist.
“No, it’s fine,” Yuto strides back to Wataru’s level, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Keep a lookout for us. We’ll just make sure nobody else is here then we can make a more thorough check later,”
And by lookout, it definitely meant the trio that Wataru stopped from advancing on the stairs. Rio nods wordlessly.
“We’ll call you then if anything happens. Be careful up there,”
“Did Yuto and Wataru find anything?”
“Oh,” Banri pauses by the stairs, “You mean a while ago?”
Ren nods. His gaze falls back to the winding hallway. What used to be a modest hotel is now empty, cold, and devoid of life. Just standing there gave him a feeling of helplessness.
“They probably cleaned up,” Banri’s voice was low, and his usual bright eyes were tinted a melancholic hue.
It’s been weeks since this all happened. The breakout, the panic, and the… infected. Waves and waves came crashing at the innocents, and everyone who were left had to fend for themselves. The military that came were spread thin and they were overpowered by the sheer number of the undead beings. There was no easy solution in the short run because of how fast everything happened. Now, with no communication and with survival as everyone’s priority, nowhere was safe.
They were caught amidst it all, with nothing but makeshift weapons and a few days’ supplies they’ve gotten from the last konbini they took shelter in. It was hard, with fear and panic just around the corner, but they were getting by with methodical planning and staying well hidden. It was good they managed to avoid encountering a fight with the infected until this point, but it was a different story about seeing corpses on their routes.
“Cleaned...up,” Ren finally understands. And he despises the idea.
“Shiroishi?” Rio’s voice echoes from the hall, and they both look up to see him exiting one of the rooms, “Is Matoba still downstairs?”
“Yeah, we’re about to go down and help them prepare for the night,”
“Can you tell him to come up? There’s something he needs to see,”
Banri and Ren looks at each other.
“Should we know as well?”
“Not until we can confirm it. I wouldn’t want to raise false alarm for everyone,”
Banri raises a brow and gives him a playful nudge, “Don’t go hiding stuffs from us then.”
“Of course,” Rio smiles, understanding. He gives them one more nod before heading back to the room, leaving the two to go back to their task.
They head downstairs at a faster pace. The door to the right was their designated safe room, away from possible threats and peering eyes of the infected and desperate people alike. Wataru and Yuto were already dividing the rations for each of them, and their sleeping bags were aligned by the wall.
“Wataru-kun, Rio-kun is calling for you upstairs,” Banri starts, just as he and Ren make their way over beside Yuto and picking up the sack where they kept their supplies.
Wataru dusts his hands, standing up, “Is it urgent?”
“I think he needs to show you something,”
Wataru and Yuto exchange worried glances. Banri gives them a reassuring grin and pushes the redhead towards the door, “We’ll take it over from here,”
“Alright. Yuu, don’t forget to check the locks again,”
“Right, right,”
Reon gives Kenta a pointed look as he drops his bag on the worn couch, “Don’t look at me, it was Nayuta who ran off,” He sits down with a relieved sigh. The tension of being outside kept him constantly active. It was exhilarating and tiring at the same time, and although their base right now was safe, it still keeps him on his toes when everything gets too silent.
“I see,” Kenta averts his gaze to the door, “Did you encounter anyone?”
“If you mean some Infected? Yeah, a very close call. If you mean other people, then no.”
“Oh, but,” Miyuki peeks into the room, his grin capturing Ryo’s interest and Kenta’s questioning look. Reon only looks away, “Guess who we got,”
Nayuta walks past him. Miyuki laughs when everyone’s eyes follows the vocalist even as he plops on the armchair across Reon’s.
“No, no, Nayuta’s fine. But he did manage to find,” This time Miyuki enters the room fully, and Ryo’s audible gasp follows.
“Nyankotarou!” In a split second, Ryo was beside him, crooning as Miyuki gently put Nyankotarou in his arms. The cat meows and lets herself be nuzzled by the self-proclaimed alien, “She wasn’t around last time we went by the sharehouse though. We were worried that…”
Miyuki gives the cat one last scratch behind the ear, “Nayuta went back and found her. A connection maybe?” He laughs and Ryo nods in approval. He can’t help but watch the bassist longer, a small smile on his lips. It has been a while since Ryo showed his usual energy. He had been more subdued the past days, obediently following instructions. Although that was an important thing right now, he can’t help but be glad to feel the same carefree aura from Ryo again.
And even then, there’s still the uneasy feeling in his gut. With a lower voice, he asks, “How are you feeling?”
Ryo blinks at him. One eye visible, the other under a layer of bandages. It was hard to keep eye contact when the memories from that day resurfaces every time Miyuki sees the wound.
“I’m fine, Miyuki,” A small smile, and he lifts Nyankotarou to wave her paws on his face.
Miyuki chuckles, “Alright, alright,” He takes his baggage outside the door and walks over to Kenta, leaving Ryo to take solace with the cat.
“Everything’s in bad shape there,” He sighs, “Not much to go around unless we start taking contaminated ones.”
“We still don’t know how big of a risk that is,” Kenta accepts the bag and checks what they’ve gotten. Dented but otherwise unopened canned goods. Three bottled waters. First aid supplies. A wool blanket. Definitely not much for this trip, but finding Nyankotarou might have balanced that.
A short pause, and he feels Miyuki’s eyes boring holes into him, “We’re gonna have to start moving, Kenta. We’re barely finding anything now,”
“... I know,”
“If it makes you feel any better, we can move towards Shimokitazawa. Grouping up with Argonavis might not be so bad,”
Kenta sighs, “Has it been that noticeable?”
“It’s not that hard to figure out honestly, not in this situation,” Miyuki takes a seat beside him, and Kenta follows suit. Supplies aside, it’s a good thing they managed to find a fairly decent hideout that’s at least warm for the night, “Those kids… I wonder how they’re faring,”
To be thrown in chaos like this and forced to fight for survival– It was something Kenta never imagined doing, not in their line of work. Sure they’ve had times when there’s an inkling of a breakout of a fight, but everything was either verbally or within the fanbase itself. If it didn’t affect Gyroaxia’s music– Nayuta’s music– then it is but a mere show. He was a cautious man. Meticulous. Cold and calculating if he has to. And he had ways of finishing tasks that didn't resort to violence.
But he was worried for Wataru. They’ve lost contact for weeks now, and traversing between cities had been nearly impossible. He looked at every opportunity to move, but they were falling short on routes, supplies, and information about everything else. He was frustrated, and it shows in every crack that their drummer could see.
“They’re smart. They’ve got each other,” Kenta says, more as a reassurance to himself than anything. Another sigh. He doesn’t remember how many times it has been this day and Miyuki could only give him a wry smile.
“I’ll check the main roads tomorrow. If not, we’ll take some back routes out of here. Just gotta hope there’s gas for the trip,” Miyuki stands up and picks up his coat and bottle from his bag on the table.
“You’re doing this because?”
They lock gazes. There’s a lot more unspoken questions, but there was hope. Miyuki could only give him the tip of the iceberg.
“The less people dying, the less we have to worry about.”
“Kikyo?”
“Matoba, come look at this,”
At the corner of the room, Rio stood peeking through the windows, binoculars at hand. Wataru walks over to him, accepting the binoculars and looking at the direction the other was pointing.
“Is that a military truck?” Wataru asks, pausing, “Seems secluded enough. Though considering its condition, I doubt it’ll be operational,”
“Their crates look unopened though. Do you think those would contain supplies?”
Wataru puts down the binoculars, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. They only have a couple of food left for two or three days max, and they weren’t filling enough to give them decent energy. It was a good thing they took their sleeping bags and emergency kit from their sharehouse before the… hordes came, but rest was not enough to get them going. Rio mirrors his thoughts and puts a firm hand on his shoulder.
“It’s worth a look,”
“Now?”
“We can’t put anything on hold. Tomorrow, it may be gone,” There was a brief thoughtful silence, gazes still at the distance. Then, after a quick glance at the door, Rio adds, “Matoba, I know it’s for our sake, but…”
The redhead shuffles on his feet. It’s definitely colder up here than downstairs, “For what?”
“Disposing the corpses.” Not one to sugarcoat his words, he looks him straight in the eyes, ”What you and Goryo have been doing. I know it’s for our sake, but you’re still like us,”
“It’s hard to keep our morale up… It’s the least–”
“But not at the sake of your own,” Rio sighs and reaches over to pull down the window panel, a little too fast that the shutting sound echoes in the small space. It didn’t do anything to alleviate the cold, but it was a nice gesture. He holds Wataru’s look with as much sincerity as he could.
“Thank you. But really, don’t take being the pillars of Argonavis so seriously that you’d dirty your hands and withstand how traumatizing those might be just to keep us going…” He places his hand on Wataru’s arm and gives it a firm squeeze.
Wataru’s gaze falls, staring at the hand on his arm, “It’s horrid,”
“I’m sorry,” Rio feels the bassist tense under his touch. He watches as the other’s hands balls into fists, shoulders shaking, “But you don’t have to do that anymore. Not alone, and not just with Goryo either,”
“Can you take it? Can Ren and Banri take it?” Wataru asks through gritted teeth, “They were humans. They were people we saw everyday– they could have been fans and classmates even…”
He never thought he’d be at a loss for words now, not when his friend was struggling so evidently in front of him. It was heartbreaking, and it was something so delicate that their usual banter was not part of the options to alleviate the situation. Rio could only let Wataru speak. To let out the weight of having to shield them from the gruesome horrors aside from the undead.
It took a while, a stretching silence before Wataru exhales, “I wish we could’ve given them a proper burial,” His gaze was still downcast, but he looked more tired than pained now and Rio preferred that.
“We can’t take the backdoors?”
“Not in the East wing… Sorry, we dumped them there…”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” He brings the redhead’s attention back to him with another squeeze on his arm, “Matoba, we’ll face these trials together. Supporting each other, as Argonavis, right?”
And Wataru finally― he wasn’t sure how long it has been since he’s seen it― breaks into an honest smile, “You’re right,” The redhead closes his eyes, shoulders relaxing and a small chuckle making its way out of his lips, “but that’s to be expected isn’t it?”
“Of course, a genius can’t go wrong,” He drops his hand and walks towards the door, motioning for him to follow, “Let’s inform everyone. It’s best we make a plan for the supplies as soon as possible,”