Episode 28: A Delicate Decision

Hayato landed while holding Natsuki, bending his knees slightly to absorb the impact.

Behind him, a barricade stood nearly three meters high.

But if the car placed inside was two meters tall, Yui—under 150 centimeters—could still climb over it.

Before zombies could scale the car, Hayato carried Natsuki and ran for a while.

He slipped into a narrow alleyway, out of sight of zombies that had crossed the barricade after turning several corners.

Somewhat relieved, Natsuki asked in his arms.

"Where are we going?"

"First, a civilian house. Enter from the roof, through a house with a locked front door."

"Are you sure it's safe?"

This time, no car blocked the barricade, as before.

Natsuki seemed concerned about that, but Hayato replied lightly.

"It should be fine."

Natsuki's body was not heavy to Hayato.

Hayato carried Natsuki as he moved quietly through the alley.

No signs of zombies were detectable near Kirioka Agricultural High School's residential area. The silence was complete.

Hayato nearly asked whether the zombies near the school had been cleared, but remembered Natsuki's parents had been turned away at the main gate and killed by zombies. He closed his mouth.

Along the roadside stood several homes.

No signs of life remained, but the structures were not yet ruined.

They would not collapse into ruins within a year, even without human hands.

The houses would likely only crumble from plant overgrowth decades from now.

Hayato scanned the area. His eyes settled on a traditional Japanese house. A sturdy wall surrounded it. The gate was closed, perfectly suited to the site.

"Let's stay here."

Hayato tightened his grip on Natsuki.

She clung to him, so he took a light run and leapt.

He landed on the wall, placed his foot on top, and jumped again.

They cleared the wall and landed inside the compound.

Hayato then lowered Natsuki to the ground slowly.

"Is the door locked?"

"Thinking about it, if the lock had been open, someone could have just entered and locked it from the inside."

That would have been easier.

Expecting the front door to be open—opposite to earlier—he reached for the handle with Natsuki beside him.

There was resistance. The door did not open.

"The lock was engaged."

"That's unfortunate."

"Well, it's fine."

Still, he entertained a faint hope that supplies might remain inside.

Kirioka Agricultural High School was nearby, but the faculty seemed unwilling to permit supply runs outside.

In the time before the collapse, school teachers would not have allowed raids on nearby residents.

After the collapse, zombies roamed outside, and no one was allowed to go out.

"Alright, let's go in."

"Yessir."

Natsuki, having been instructed, moved close. Hayato lifted her again.

He ran from the entrance to the gate, reversed direction, built momentum, then leapt onto the first-floor roof.

He walked along the roof to the second-floor window.

Upon reaching the window, he kicked the glass with one foot, breaking it, then entered the room.

After stepping inside through the broken frame, Hayato gently supported Natsuki as he lowered her onto the tatami floor.

The room was about eight tatami mats in size, a typical Japanese-style interior.

A chest stood in the corner. A closet was built into the wall. No desk.

The room felt empty, as if unused by any family member.

Hayato strained his ears. No sound came from inside the house.

“At least, no human presence.”

Natsuki’s shoulders rose and fell slightly. She exhaled a quiet breath of relief.

“I’m tired.”

“Rest a moment.”

Hayato retrieved Natsuki’s desk and chair from the spatial storage, collected earlier at the dormitory.

She sat on the chair and leaned her head onto the desk.

Her exhaustion was understandable.

She had fought zombies at two a.m. She had resisted fiercely. Then, for hours, she had listened to the screams from the dormitory and the sounds of zombies attacking from the rooms.

Physically. Mentally. She was at her limit.

“The dormitory’s bunk beds were fixed. Couldn’t be stored. I’ll keep my bed out. Why don’t you sleep a bit?”

……Understood. What will you do, Hayato?

I’m undecided.

Hayato moved a bed to the corner of the room.

He placed a bucket filled with water, and on Natsuki’s desk he arranged one meal’s worth of rye bread, dried meat, and dried fruit.

Natsuki, still lying prone and watching, opened her mouth upon seeing the still-soft bread.

“What is this?”

“Bread from another world. Freshly baked and stored. Spatial storage allows retrieval in the stored state.”

“How much is there?”

“Enough to sustain a thousand people for ten more days, he said. Around thirty thousand units. Eat without restraint.”

Natsuki turned her face toward him, as if eager to hear the rest of the explanation.

The Empire that summoned me to this world intended for me to serve in war. Only summoned humans can manipulate space. That is why I was issued military supplies.

Horses must be fed and watered if transported by carriage.

If combat arises, the horses must be protected.

Since we are entering enemy territory to defeat the Demon King, it is better to provide supplies to the transmigrants.

After all, those who carry the supplies possess combat strength and speed comparable to a grizzly bear, and can heal their own injuries.

I was sent back unexpectedly. The supplies remained with me. It was like a severance payment after three years of use.

A severance payment of bread, water, and food. That’s quite something.

Salt, oil lamps, vegetable oil, spare spears, and arrows as well.

How much is that worth?

"One bow is worth about the same as a light car. There are roughly three hundred bows."

"A light car?"

Natsuki tilted her head.

In the modern world, a kyudo bow costs tens of thousands of yen.

If bows were worth as much as light cars, fewer students would join kyudo clubs.

"The summoned foreign nation was at a medieval level. Bows were practical tools."

In medieval society, bows were practical tools.

Bows were effective for hunting, a crucial method of acquiring food.

Hunting animals yielded meat. Even if expensive, a high-performance bow was cost-effective.

On the battlefield, bows were useful. If they reduced enemy numbers, they had appropriate value.

"Also, good bows are difficult to produce. No factories. All made by hand by craftsmen."

The wood for bows must grow straight, with moderate strength and flexibility.

Cut down, then dried for several years if necessary.

After drying, skilled craftsmen apply tension to the limbs and process the wood.

Shaping the bow requires even pressure, which demands experience and technique.

"The rest is the bowstring. Strings are made from animal sinew or silk thread. Strength and durability are essential. They are carefully selected and processed. The military used high-performance versions that increased draw strength."

Selling Hayato's bow might fetch the price of a modest carriage.

The chancellor had likely anticipated the empire's possible summoning of beings from another world.

Perhaps that was why Hayato was paid a severance—though not to spread ill repute.

Still, bows cannot be exchanged for currency in Japan.

Hayato considered these thoughts, turning over his next course of action.

"Then."

There is one thing I must do before returning to Yui.

Hayato wrapped an arm around Natsuki’s body and gently lifted her, her limbs slack from fatigue.

A faint scent of sweat, and the lingering trace of haircare oil he had given her, tickled his nostrils.

Natsuki trembled slightly in Hayato’s arms.

She let out a small sound, startled by the sudden movement.

“…That…”

“What?”

Natsuki, nestled in Hayato’s arms, flushed red, her eyes darting.

She opened and closed her lips repeatedly, searching for words. Her ears turned red as she spoke in a quiet voice.

“I’d prefer you wait until after I’ve wiped the sweat. I’ve been rushing around today.”

Hayato looked back at Natsuki, studying her reddened face.

“Wiping down before sleep?”

“Yes. I’m concerned about the smell.”

Natsuki’s voice grew quieter with each word.

His gaze, averted, settled on the bed in the corner of the room.

Only then did Hayato realize his mistake.

“Huh, no, not that. I have something to do.”

“Something to do?”

Natsuki tilted her head, repeating the words with mild confusion.

“Maybe I’ve taken too much from the salt and surplus items. I thought I’d return a little, to balance the exchange.”

The moment she heard those words, Natsuki’s body slackened, the tension dissolving.

For a fleeting instant, Hayato caught the faintest expression—relief, tinged with quiet disappointment—before he slowly carried her to the bed.

He laid her down, pulled the blanket over her exhausted body.