AN: Before we begin, I want to clarify that I am writing this story with the express permission of GAF01TW. I had recently found their story and couldn't help but be saddened at how it wasn't continued. As such, after persistently asking them, GAF01TW has allowed me to continue on their work.
This rewrite will better flesh out the old stories' ideas and plot points. These first few chapters will be very similar to the original story with some minor tweaks, but I will try to add new sections to make it more interesting for those who have already read the original story in the past. Once I get to the latest chapter, it will all be original content.
Due to my busy schedule, chapters will be released slowly. So please be patient with me!
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The White House press briefing room was steeped in an unsettling silence, a stark contrast to the usual buzz of questions and chatter. Men and women sat side by side, their professional attire—suits and blazers, dresses and blouses—rumpled and disheveled from anxious fidgeting. The air was heavy with tension, amplified by the faint hum of the live-feed video cameras, positioned like sentinels, capturing every moment of the unfolding drama. The Press Secretary, Lance J. Hudson, stood at the podium, his expression grave as he took a deep, shaky breath that seemed to echo in the stillness.
"...I'll take your questions," he managed to say, though his voice wavered slightly. A single bead of sweat traced a path down the side of his forehead, shimmering under the harsh lights above.
As if released from a spell, the reporters sprang into action. "Is it a virus?" a man from CNN queried, his voice steady but urgency lacing his tone.
"...we don't know," Lance admitted, the weight of uncertainty heavy on his shoulders.
Not to be deterred, a woman with a Fox News badge cleared her throat and pressed on, her voice cutting through the tension. "How does it spread? Is it airborne?"
"It is a possibility... we don't know as of this time," he replied, his eyes darting around the room, searching for answers that were not there.
The barrage of questions continued, each one more pressing than the last. "Is this an international health hazard or a military concern?" chimed in a reporter from BBC News, his brow furrowed with worry.
"Both," Lance said curtly, the depth of the situation weighing heavily on him.
"Are these people... alive or dead?" a query came from a journalist at MSNBC, a note of panic creeping into her voice.
"...we don't know," he responded with a deep sigh. The realization of his inadequacy sent a ripple of dissatisfaction through the room, and moments later, chaos erupted as reporters began shouting questions over one another.
"What do you mean you don't know?! Are you saying that US soldiers have been killing innocent people all this time?!"
"Several states in the United States have been locked down and quarantined. Not only that, but other countries are involved as well. If history teaches us anything from the events in Raccoon City, should we brace ourselves for hydrogen bombs targeting all the affected areas?!"
"How is the CDC going to manage a crisis of this magnitude? When can we expect this outbreak to come to an end?"
Lance's frown deepened as he stared out at the sea of hungry faces, each reporter vying for attention, voices clamoring for clarity. The sheer volume of anxious questions felt like a tidal wave threatening to engulf him.
He gripped the podium tightly, the cold material grounding him as he fought back the rising tide of despair.
He had no answers.
No reassurances.
The world is on fire, he thought bleakly as he closed his eyes, seeking a moment of solace amidst the chaos. The flashes from the cameras pierced through his eyelids like warning sirens, and the cacophony of desperate pleas for information filled his ears. God help us all.
…Two Weeks Ago…
Chiba City, Japan
The first breath I took that morning was sharp and biting, as if the cold air itself was scolding me for daring to disturb its stillness. But the initial sting quickly faded as I stood up, my body protesting with stiffness that lingered from days spent fighting off a relentless flu. I stretched my arms above my head, feeling the muscles loosen as I welcomed the day with a reluctant sigh.
"Damn flu," I muttered under my breath as I shuffled into the bathroom, the overhead light flickering on, illuminating the remnants of my tired reflection. "When will these aftereffects finally go away?" The mirror revealed dark circles under my eyes and a face that felt drawn and weary, reminders of a night spent wrestling with restless sleep.
After going through my morning routine, I slipped into my crisp Sobu High School uniform, the fabric a welcome comfort against the persistent chill. As I descended the stairs, a sense of emptiness washed over me; the living room and kitchen were quiet and deserted, a stark contrast to the usual morning bustle. It seemed my little sister, Komachi, hadn't yet stirred from her slumber. A wave of disappointment washed over me at the thought of missing out on her warm, lovingly prepared breakfast. With a resigned sigh, I trudged over to the kitchen, the promise of coffee and toast my sole consolation.
"Komachi, don't oversleep! You'll be late for school!" I called out after knocking gently on her door, my voice echoing slightly in the stillness.
"…mmkay," came her muffled response.
"Alright, I'm heading out first," I announced, mentally bracing myself for the chilly morning ahead. "By the way, I made you some toast and coffee."
"Really? Yay~! Take care!" Her door creaked open just enough for her to pop her head out, her face breaking into a wide, toothy grin that almost made the cold worth it. I couldn't help but ruffle her hair playfully, earning an annoyed groan from her as she swatted my hand away, her expression still holding that sleepy joy.
With a final wave, I stepped out of the warm house into the nipping February air. As I walked, the cold February air stung my lungs, annoying me to no degree.
x x x
"How should I put this? I… want to try making handmade chocolate."
I let out a weary sigh from my perch at the end of the club room table. February had decided to grace us with its presence, and the cold only seemed to be growing bolder—if that were even possible. But hey, it's that time of year again: Valentine's Day. A delightful occasion when major corporations cleverly disguise their chocolate sales as romantic gestures, all in the name of love and friendship. In other words, it's the one day of the year I can count on receiving chocolates from my mother and sister, proving that familial obligation trumps all when it comes to affection. How heartwarming.
"You know we're having exams next year, so this'll be the last chance… in other words, I was thinking it'd be nice to give it a go." Yumiko Miura said from her spot on the right side of the table. On her left sat Hina Ebina, a member of her clique.
"Yumiko. Didn't you say all things handcrafted were boring?" Yui Yuigahama, my fellow service club member, said with an accusatory stare towards the blonde queen bee.
At her words, I couldn't help but be reminded of how she and I met. She had asked for help baking cookies for someone, but needed help because she didn't think she could ask her friends for fear of being found lame. It seemed that Yui hadn't forgotten that. Yumiko had the decency to look slightly ashamed and stuttered a response.
"I-I mean, that's good. Isn't it? Handmade chocolate is great!" Hina said, coming to Yumiko's defense. I rolled my eyes. That action, however, was caught by the spectacle-wearing degenerate, and she turned to me with a teasing smile.
"Hikitani-kun, you could make friendship chocolate for Hayato as well!" she said.
"No way in hell… plus, that guy said he wouldn't accept it, didn't he?"
Speaking of the school's white knight, Hayato Hayama was the object of Yumiko's undivided affection and love. For whatever reason. The headaches I've had from dealing with that guy during my time in the Service Club have been seemingly unending. The tennis match, figuring out who's slandering who in his friend group, the cultural festival drama, how to handle Tobe Kakeru's confession, and, most recently, figuring out his secret career path.
All in all, that guy was a pain in my ass.
To add to that long list of things I've dealt with, now I have to deal with this.
I could have sworn that it was made clear that Hayato didn't want or accept any chocolate from anyone during this consumeristic holiday. "To avoid any unnecessary conflict", he said. That should have been enough. But this blonde didn't seem to get the message, but if she has anything going for her other than her looks. She's pretty persistent.
"I know, right? It's only gonna get harder now that he said he won't accept any." Iroha Isshiki, my annoying Kohai, said with a sigh.
"That's true," Yumiko said solemnly. It was then that both girls turned to each other and glared.
If this were an anime, you would have been able to see sparks fly between them.
This conflict between the two stemmed from what happened during our group outing to Destiny Land not too long ago.
Iroha used that trip to confess her feelings for Hayato during the fireworks display. Sadly, it didn't go as planned, and she was rejected. The image of her running away from the crowd, tears in her eyes, was still fresh in my memory. The confession became well known among those who attended. As such, Yumiko had begun to see Iroha as a love rival for Hayato.
"Ah! Then, how about I, on behalf of the girls, give Hayama-senpai some chocolate! I am the Student Council President, after all?" Iroha said with a large, innocent smile.
"Huh? What's that supposed to mean?" Yumiko said with a glare. Both girls stared at one another to see who would back down first.
How scary. I looked away from their epic staring contest and noticed someone standing in the doorway. It was a girl with long pale blue hair. She noticed my stare and flinched out of the doorway. It's Kawasomething.
"Please come in." Yukino Yukinoshita, my club president, said, turning towards the door after also noticing Kawasomething. "Join us, Kawasaki-san."
Ah, Kawasaki. Like the motorcycle?
Saki Kawasaki nodded and sat in the now available seat between Iroha and Yumiko. Yukino nodded and turned to her. "So? Did you need something?"
"Ah, um-" Saki began saying, but was quickly cut off by Yumiko.
"Hold on," Yumiko said. "We're not done with what I was talking about, okay?
"Huh? All you're doing is drinking tea, right?" Saki said with every bit of sass as Yumiko. Hina jumped in and smiled at everyone.
"Now, now, Sakisaki had something to say as well, right? Anyway, go on. You can tell me if you want!" Hina said. Yui looked at her with a frown and hung her head slightly.
"We're the ones supposed to do the helping, though…" Yui said. I watched Saki look down, a slight, embarrassed blush growing on her face.
"It's about... making chocolate," Saki said shyly. Yumiko snickered and grinned at Saki. Saki turned her head and glared at Yumiko.
"What's that? Are you giving chocolate to someone? don't make me laugh." Yumiko said snidely. Saki sucked her teeth and looked at Yumiko as if she were an annoying child.
"Hey, could you not lump me in together with you?" Saki said.
I sipped my tea and debated whether I wanted to continue to watch the two new challengers brawl. However, to quicken things up so everyone here could leave, I decided to intervene.
"So? What about the chocolate?" I asked Saki.
"My sister wants to try making it. Are there any kinds that kids can make?" Saki asked inquisitively. Yukino looked pensively and asked herself the same question. Her eyes seemed to be scrolling through a list of recipes in her head. How impressive. While my club president thought about Saki's question, Hina perked up.
"But, Sakisaki, you're good with housework, right? Shouldn't stuff like this be easy for you?" Hina asked, tilting her head.
"Well… the stuff I make is kinda plain. Kids wouldn't like it." Saki said.
From there, everyone began discussing how to approach the subject. With some others devolving into random topics, such as Yukino and Yui talking about taro balls and how they resembled cat paws.
Kamakura's paw beans do resemble taro balls. I thought as I sipped my tea from my Pan-san mug. I winced as I felt a sharp shiver run up my chest, causing me almost to drop the mug.
"Hikki? Are you okay?" Yui asked, gaining Yukino's attention.
"Ah, yeah. The tea almost went through the wrong pipe," I said lamely.
"Please do be more careful, Hikigaya-kun. That cup could have fallen and shattered," Yukino said quickly, but her eyes held a tinge of concern.
"Right... will do,"
After some discussion, we ultimately decided to approve Yumiko and Saki's request and organize a chocolate-making event at the community center in a few days. Yukino would be responsible for instructing everyone on how to make the chocolate, given her impressive culinary skills.
Thanks to Iroha's quick call, we were able to book the room promptly, although we would be sharing it with another school. With everything settled, the service club disbanded for the evening, and we all headed home.