News (50)
I disclaim.
It's a Wednesday morning when she discovers that it's the end of the world.
She wakes up to the sun streaming in through the blinds on her windows, as per usual, and she lies in bed for about fifteen minutes, cuddling her favorite pillow, as per usual. She knows her brother is probably meditating in his room—as per usual. He always wakes up before she does.
The flat is quiet, as she would expect it to be. They're the only ones living in it, after all. They live in their own flat in the larger Hyuuga family compound, which is so large that it's practically its own neighbourhood.
Haru stretches, her back popping, and she breathes in deeply, letting the breath out in a slow, heavy sigh.
And then she hears them.
The sirens.
They start off low quiet and then quickly swell into this great, large sound that she cannot ignore, that freezes her mid-stretch, that makes her heart race and her face drain of colour. It's an automatic reaction she has to the sounds that undeniably scream to her that something is wrong. She scrambles up as the third wail goes off, telling herself it's probably nothing. It is just another usual morning, after all. Grabbing a robe, she slips it on and ties the obi before walking out of her room and into the kitchen. She turns on the small television and while she waits for the screen to warm up and show the picture, she jogs to Neji's room, her socked feet sliding slightly on the clean, polished hardwood floors.
She knocks on the wooden frame of the door once before sliding it open. "Nii-san, the—the—" she stutters, and the words won't come out because she's out of breath and her heart feels weird from the shock of the sirens and the jogging and the unusual morning activity.
"I hear them, Haru," he says dismissively, not opening his eyes from where he sits on his bedroom floor, his legs crossed, hands on his knees. "They are probably just testing them again."
Though he makes a good point, Haru rolls her eyes heavenwards, she whips around, leaving his door wide open, knowing that it will bug him and he will eventually emerge from his room. The television's screen has shown up and Haru leans close to the fuzzy, grainy screen as she turns up the volume on the national news station, her eyes growing wide as she takes in what's happening.
Something was wrong. Is wrong. The sirens are still blaring and Haru shivers, goose bumps erupting all over her body as she listens to the news report, her eyes focused on the sitting form of a weary-looking man as he tells her and the rest of the people watching that the world is, in fact, ending. At least, that's what she takes this news for.
A few minutes later, as she had predicted, Neji shuffles into the room, unable to get back to his peaceful happy place. "So? What does the television—" he begins as he checks on his steeping tea, his tone suggesting that he was about to mock her, but Haru hushes him and turns up the volume, stepping back so he can see the screen as well. A news reporter, her hair falling out of its bun and her hands shaking, reads her script, her voice wavering.
"For those of you just joining us here on FCTV, good morning and good luck. This morning, much of the country awoke to mass hysteria and destruction as the highly infectious and disastrous virus that began in the western part of the world has finally reached the Fire Country. The source of the virus is as of yet unknown, but government officials recommend limiting outdoor activity and sanitizing water before use to prevent unnecessary victims of this catastrophic disease—"
"This is ridiculous," Neji mutters, and he pours his tea into his cup, blowing on it lightly before raising it to his lips.
"Nii-san, don't drink that!" Haru howls, and she snatches the glass out of his grasp, pouring the hot tea down the drain and throwing the cup in the rubbish pail, breaking it.
"Are you out of your mind?" he demands indignantly as she pours out the rest of the tea from the kettle.
"Are you?" she retorts angrily, glaring at him. "I am too young to be an orphan, dammit," she huffs, tossing the kettle in the rubbish as well. She opens her mouth to go on, but catches sight of the television screen again and stops, grabbing Neji's elbow and pointing.
The screen is split now, between the harried reporter at her desk and a woman in a crisp lavender suit, looking out of place as she stands in the midst of what appears to be a war zone.
"Amaru, here, for FCTV. Well, since our last report, this small town near the western border has completely fallen siege to the virus. In about eight hours, the so-called Z-Virus infected every man, woman and child of the village. Whether or not the fast consumption of the area was because of poor living conditions or the potency of the virus is yet unknown. The national government, however, has declared a state of emergency in this area, and if you would like to donate money to helping fund refuges for survivors in and around the area of infection, please call—"
"Tch. How ridiculous," Neji scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling. "Who would give money to such a—"
Haru cuts him off again, this time with a scream of utter terror.
The news reporter to the right of the screen, the one in the field, is being attacked by a mottled, hunched figure. Its skin is a sickly grey-green and there are blood patches around the body. Red eyes are glowing as it slobbers over the woman's shoulder as it wraps its arm around her neck from behind. Yellowed, pointed teeth gleam in the light as the monster—the zombie—lunges forward. And just as it bites into her flesh, tearing at muscle and bone, Neji turns the channel as he reflexively pulls Haru by the head to implant her face firmly in his shoulder, keeping her there with one hand on the back of her head.
"Do not. Watch that," he instructs her in clipped, forceful tones as he keeps changing channels. It seems that the news is being broadcasted by every station, even the nature channel. He settles for a news station with a grim-looking man addressing the audience. Neji takes his hand away from his younger sister's skull and watches the television intently. He's listing off villages with known infections—Konoha, thank the Gods, is not one of them—and he's advising the public what to do.
"For those of you whose villages are at the moment not yet under siege, I urge you to get to higher ground—literally. Stock up on food and ammunition and water—you'll need them all, especially if you plan to wait this out and to survive. Leading experts suggest automatic weapons such as—"
He turns the television off. "Haru, listen closely—"
"Nii-chan, we're all going to die!" she wails, slightly dramatically, and she clings onto the front of his robes so desperately that it he fears that she's going to start sobbing uncontrollably and hysterically any second now.
"Haru, listen to me. Keep a level head. This kind of desperation is what will be ultimately detrimental to our situation. You need to go to your room, get dressed in your Academy clothes, and pack a rucksack. Bring medical supplies and kunai and shuriken and wire and whatever else you see fit. I'm going to go do the same. We leave in twenty minutes for the Academy," he instructs, his voice level and calm, as it always is.
"Yes, nii-san," she says, sobering up a little, and she rushes to her room. She stands in the middle, looking around at all of her belongings, feeling overwhelmed. She wants to take all of it. What if they don't come back? She has a lot precious things to her in her momento box. But that would be impractical to bring, wouldn't it?
She puts a hand to her head. She had never thought of the answer to the question: What do you bring with you during a zombie apocalypse?
A/N: Expect more prompts related to this !verse. It's certainly fun to write.
