In the blink of an eye, it was already evening.
Because of the EMP strike, even the streetlights that normally came on around dusk in the city were dead.
So dusk felt like it arrived earlier than usual, and night fell faster, too.
At the largest supermarket, Saya Takagi finally stopped directing people on what supplies to prioritize hauling out.
Truth was, she had spent the entire afternoon distracted.
The reason was her own slip-up.
She had been way too bold—bold enough that it practically sounded like a confession.
And she had shown him a side of herself that was soft and vulnerable. Once she got her emotions back under control, she realized what "social death" really meant.
Because other people had been watching.
When she snapped out of it, she rushed to explain that he should not take what she said seriously. It was just a joke, she claimed—she was "testing" whether he might feel something for her.
Even she knew that excuse was flimsy. Everyone could tell.
In the end, she finished her rambling explanation, then used "I have work to do" as an excuse and fled in humiliation.
"Hello, glasses-girl. You hear me?"
That voice instantly put her in a foul mood.
It belonged to Oriha Nashida, one of the Black Label people. Oriha had noticed Saya had a talent for networks and wanted to take her as a "student."
In reality, the point was to probe her knowledge.
Because when they interfaced with that system earlier, Saya had displayed enough technical skill to deal with it effortlessly.
Correction—she had not "hacked" it. She had optimized it.
Yes. Saya's optimization.
And she could optimize it not because she was some elite programmer. If anything, she was not even that familiar with modern computer networking.
The reason she could do it was simpler: she was sensitive to numbers. Binary, logic gates—she understood them far better than most people. That was what the company that made that "Hard Drive" had drilled into her.
And the foundation of programming was numbers in the first place. Somehow, she just… got it enough to help. She even wrote out a dozen or so lines of code.
Oriha was dying to understand how.
"What do you want?" Saya said, walking up to the computer with clear annoyance.
"So, how did you optimize—"
Before Oriha could finish, Saya cut the connection.
If Oriha wanted to talk shop right now, she had picked the worst possible time.
Saya's gaze drifted toward the upscale apartment building not far away. One unit in particular still felt "alive"—it was being used by Saeko.
And Saeko had just left earlier carrying a bunch of ingredients. She was preparing dinner now—but not for everyone.
She was preparing it for him.
Which meant it was going to be a candlelit dinner for two.
And Saeko had announced it openly, telling everyone to clear out and leave the two of them alone.
It was a blunt declaration. A real confession.
And it was not the same kind of thing as what Saya had blurted out earlier.
So now Saya bit hard on her lower lip, resentment simmering in her chest.
Why was she so twisted about it?
Why could she not just be straightforward?
And when she thought about those two being alone together, her mind flashed back to the scene she had witnessed that day.
Saeko—right in front of her—had slowly swallowed that… thing.
And then, as if to make it worse, she had licked the remaining traces clean from the surface that made it.
The memory made Saya's head go fuzzy.
…
In the apartment, a deep-purple-haired girl wearing an apron gently stirred a thick soup with a ladle.
Watching the sky darken, she put the lid on, then went to take out candles and lit them, adding a bit of atmosphere as she arranged them.
The room itself was bare and simple. No one had lived here before.
When night finally settled in, Saeko placed three dishes on the dining table.
They did not match the recipes of her own country. This was Chinese cuisine.
She had paid careful attention. He seemed to prefer Chinese food.
More than that, the way he spoke and carried himself—there was something about him that felt like he belonged to that country.
So tonight, she cooked for him again, making it a small surprise, hoping it would suit his taste.
And as for the confession this afternoon—she meant it.
They had only known each other for four days. It was fast, almost reckless.
But Saeko knew she would not regret it.
He had been surprised, and his response had been honest—he could not give her any guarantees. She understood.
The time they could be "together" might only last as long as the time he could still remain here…
After that, never being able to see him again would leave her in pain. Lonely. Hollow.
But even so, she would not regret it.
All right.
Everything was ready. Now she just had to wait for him to arrive.
…
Kain landed on the roof of the apartment building.
After he removed the armament from his body, it transformed, lifting off into the sky as a YoRHa Mirage craft and climbing to high altitude.
Kain, heading once again to the harbor in Fushimi City, found himself oddly looking forward to whatever small surprise Saeko had planned.
As for why he was going back to that city—it was because there was a stockpile of pharmaceuticals at the port, but it was buried too deep inside the stacks. They needed to move the outer shipping containers first.
Unfortunately, due to the EMP attack, most of the equipment here was damaged. The containers could not be shifted normally.
And doing it manually would create a huge disturbance, drawing in a swarm of corpses.
So they needed him to cut a passage open with a laser.
By now, Kain had also confirmed the broader state of this world: most public systems had collapsed, and large-scale nuclear exchanges had indeed occurred in various regions.
Syringe had done this thoroughly. D99-related development was not limited to narcotics—many new "medicines" in the past few years were involved, too.
Beyond that, it had spread through food, cosmetics, animal feed, cigarettes—global distribution, reaching into every corner of the world.
That did not mean Syringe itself was powerful enough to be that terrifying. It was mainly because the financiers behind it had vast industries, and they used each other for profit.
Those backers simply never imagined that "0.3" would trigger an apocalypse like this.
So no matter how rich someone was, how powerful, how tightly guarded their location—most places still got breached by the virus.
In fact, many survivors likely carried traces of it as well. It was just that the amount was small enough that it could still be activated later by solar storms.
Enough.
He stopped thinking about it. He had arrived.
He did not knock. He simply opened the door and stepped inside.
A sign hung on it, as if it had been left for him: Prepared.
The moment he pushed the door open, the color, aroma, and warmth of food hit him—so vivid it left him slightly dazed. A wave of nostalgia rose in his chest.
He followed the source of the scent.
And what he saw made him pause—familiar dishes.
But what made him pause even more was the "chef" beside them.
A beautiful cook, still wearing her work apron.
"Welcome back," Saeko said softly. "So—dinner first? A shower first? Or… do you want to eat… me first?"
(End of Chapter)
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