Part 12: Sacrifice

Around six in the evening.

In my perception, dinner began a little earlier than usual.

Thanks to an older woman among the evacuees who had worked in a company cafeteria, the curry had a reliably comforting taste.

The rice was cooked soft, taking into account the needs of the elderly.

I was slightly dissatisfied only that potatoes were included—but I was more than satisfied since I was able to get a generous serving of pickled radish.

"Huff! Huff! Delicious! Delicious!"

By the time I realized it, I had finished my third helping.

That was the moment I gained absolute confidence in the change happening to my body.

You see, I'm naturally a light eater—truly.

I used to be satisfied with just half a bowl of rice.

Now, look at me.

Though everyone stared at me as if I were some rare creature...

It's fine now.

From now on, I'm embracing my gluttonous character.

"Guess people who exercise a lot really do eat a lot, huh?"

Seeing how much I'm eating, Rika-chan giggles softly.

"Who knows?"

"Hehe... You're talking about yourself, big sis."

I wonder, really.

I don't think I've ever seen a guy eat three bowls of curry and still ask for seconds.

"So, you've been doing kendo since you were a kid, right?"

Kousuke was next to ask with great curiosity.

I looked away vaguely,

"Ah, I don't know. Probably about three years?"

And so, I answer.

Even if I'm looked at with such respect, I didn't put in any real effort to acquire this skill.

It feels a bit awkward.

Lunch ended with a consistently cheerful atmosphere.

Everyone seems to be regaining a little of their smile.

The ladies especially appeared to be in good spirits.

Perhaps it's true that women are strong. After working together, the refugees may have finally begun to open up to one another.

This morning, I thought I'd woken up to the lid of a hellish cauldron being lifted off.

But surprisingly, nothing major happened, and it doesn't seem impossible for all of us to get through this together.

That's how I was thinking.

Of course, it was an utterly hopeless and overly optimistic outlook.

▼

The next morning, early in the day.

I wake up in Class 3-3, which is deserted.

There are plenty of classrooms compared to the number of people who’ve taken shelter here, so at night everyone stayed in their families, renting out entire classrooms.

Naturally, as someone with no family or connections, I ended up occupying a classroom all by myself.

Looking out from the classroom, the sun had just begun to rise.

Thinking I might as well take a walk while washing my face, I head downstairs, carrying my sword and a plastic bottle.

The downstairs area had already been fully barricaded. Perhaps among the survivors there were people skilled at such work. Desks and chairs, firmly secured with wire and duct tape, completely blocked any entry from below. It would likely be difficult for even a human to climb up directly from the front.

Next to the barricade stood a ladder, apparently intended as a strategy for moving between the first and second floors in case of emergency.

What struck me as odd was right after I'd finished scouting the escape route.

A girl and what appeared to be her mother stood motionless in front of the classroom.

So early in the morning.

Nothing in particular.

Their faces looked familiar.

Yesterday,

Big sister, are you strong?

That girl who asked such a simple, straightforward question.

Is something wrong?

I casually called out to them.

...There's nothing....Nothing at all...

And then, after a full five seconds of silence, came the response.

My mother looked dazed, her gaze fixed on some distant, unrelated point.

At least one thing was clear—there was no way she truly meant "nothing at all."

I looked toward the classroom. A plaque reading "Class 2-5" hung on the door.

The classroom of my alma mater couldn't be seen from the hallway; the interior remained hidden.

Reluctantly, I pressed my ear against the door.

Gucha, gucha, mogucha...

A squelching sound reaches my ears.

Ah. This is bad.

Just as I thought that, my hand reached for the door, but my mother grabbed my wrist.

She shook her head violently, like a small child saying "no, no."

"Excuse me."

I announced, then gently pushed the woman aside.

To my surprise, she tumbled backward as easily as a broken doll.

"Mom!"

The girl who had been watching rushed into her mother's arms.

It looked oddly like a scene from a robbery gone wrong.

Even as I thought this faintly in the back of my mind, I stepped into the classroom.

What awaited me there was a scene straight out of hell.

Only two figures were visible.

Likely the man from earlier—the woman’s husband—and a relative.

One was an elderly man with white hair.

The other, a middle-aged man.

The middle-aged man was lying face-down in the center of the classroom, as though he had been fleeing from something.

The elderly man crouching over him had his mouth stained bright red.

A knife was embedded in his chest.

It seemed the middle-aged man had fought back against the elderly man, who had mutated into a "zombie," ultimately driving the knife into him.

The old man, his eyes clouded, calmly brings meat to his mouth despite having sustained what should have been a fatal wound.

"...ah"

Even though I faced the reality I had foreseen, my heart still could not accept the truth.

His mouth hung open in shock,

The phantom voice I definitely heard yesterday,

"Safe Zone"

I chew on those words.

I definitely remember hearing the word "safe zone" back then.

That's precisely why I felt secure—precisely why I let my guard down.

That's why I slept like mud last night.

Looking back now, I can't help but admit it was reckless.

Indeed, when the back gate of this school was closed, it might have prevented "zombies" outside from entering. At that moment, this school building might truly have been a "safe zone."

But even that was nothing more than temporary. The situation was always changing. Just because it was safe a moment ago doesn’t mean it’s still safe now.

I had completely forgotten this obvious truth.

"When… were you bitten?"

I asked, loud enough for the two outside the hallway to hear.

There was no reply.

Of course, I didn’t really need an answer myself.

Probably, he was attacked by Gabu before coming to school.

And the family here has been hiding it completely.

I’ve seen an elderly man with injuries on his shoulder.

I’ve heard he fell and got hurt.

Just that simple excuse was enough to make me feel at ease.

"—My father-in-law is—"

Turning around, the woman from earlier was staring at me, her eyes red from crying.

"My father-in-law is ill..."

Ah, I see. Illness.

A disease that eats people?

Well, I suppose that's not entirely wrong.

"I'll take care of it—take your child far away."

"Wait!"

The woman screamed.

"It'll get better! It will definitely get better!"

Hmph.

I'm at a loss for words.

I couldn't come up with any counterargument.

Now that she's said it, if this really is some kind of illness, I can't say for sure that it's untreatable.

Even if there were a disease that allowed one to survive being cut to pieces, that's a different matter.

Well, what should we do about this?

『OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO...!』

As I hesitated, the old man must have noticed me, his hollow eyes turning toward me.

He must have caught the scent of fresh meat. Wobbling to his feet, he began to slowly approach me.

A single sigh.

With the sword still in its sheath, I plunged it deep into his chest.

The old man "zombie," losing his balance, collapsed into a sea of blood.

Think.

Think and think again.

After much thought and consideration.

I concluded that deciding this matter solely on my own judgment would be too risky.

I turned on my heel and left the classroom.

"Yeah, I see your point. But leaving it like this is also risky, so let's all come to a decision together."

I tried to speak as brightly as possible, but the woman’s expression remained dark.

▼

Shortly after.

A series of irregular knocks echoed from the closed classroom door—dong, dong—like someone was tapping on it.

The sound came from two people.