Gamer4 in. The cover is coming along nicely- if all is ideal, we should have it by the next chapter. Until then, let's get moving.

Disclaimer: Romeo and Juliet are together in eternity...

Chapter VI

A Day of Silence

The week following the broadcast hijacking would always be remembered as the worst in Japanese history- it brought about a storm the likes of which the country- nay, the world had never seen. But to those fortunate enough to weather the storm, it also taught them a valuable lesson- in time, even the worst storms break.

So it was that, on the eighth morning following that fateful broadcast, those who had managed to survive the superflu and the ensuing war in the streets awoke to find a new world around them- a world both quiet and still.

XXXX

7:30 AM

The second Mukuro's clock switched to 7:30, she awoke. Of course, there was no alarm, and she was nowhere near close enough to hear it even if there was, but she awoke at 7:30 on the dot anyways, finding herself once more in her prison cell.

The first thing she noticed was the absolute silence- whatever fighting had been going on just outside her window had finally ceased. But... there was nothing else, either. No buzz of commerce, no unintelligible hum of human life. Strain her ears though she might, she couldn't hear a-

"MOTHER!"

She paused, sighing. Well, there was that, at least. The only other person in this building, as far as she could tell, and it was the half-mad man in the cell across the way and down the hall, who had preoccupied himself for the past several days calling out for his mother. His voice was a slur, as if under the influence of drugs, alcohol, or both, but despite very clearly having access to neither, it hadn't become any straighter.

"MOOOOOOTHER!"

It was futile to even try to stop him, so she wasted no effort doing so. Instead, she worked to hoist herself up to the barred window through which the early morning sun was filtering.

Her vision was extremely limited, but what she could see was enough- the outside was an urban warzone. Cars overturned, several on fire, windows smashed, and corpses. Many, many corpses laying about the streets. To the average civilian, she imagined, it must seem like the end of the world. Perhaps it was.

She lowered herself back into her bed. She hadn't seen any guards at all the previous day- that didn't bode well. Time to check her supplies.

She frowned as she took in the small smattering of food she'd managed to stash away under her bed. With all the chaos, she probably hadn't needed to try so hard, but she liked to be certain about these things. She mentally cursed herself for not seeing the signs and starting her rationing earlier- as things stood, she barely had enough food for another couple days.

Of course, the far more pressing concern was the lack of water. Food, she'd gone without for weeks at a time back in Fenrir- it wouldn't be pleasant, but she could make do. However, even the most hardened soldier would be lucky to make it more than a few days without access to clean water. Not that Japan was the desert, but even so, without any water, she foresaw less than a week of life in this cell.

She pondered that- was it even worth trying to stay alive? The prison, it seemed, had been abandoned- there were no guards stationed nearby to release her. The city outside seemed empty of any real life- only piles of corpses. Would any efforts on her part to survive simply be delaying the inevitable?

Unbidden, but not at all unwelcome, the face of Makoto Naegi came to the front of her mind, as it always had in times of hardship. Those determined eyes, so full of hope. *Don't give up now!* He seemed to be saying. *As long as you're alive, there's always hope!*

She glanced at the ground, and spied a rat making its way towards her rations. Her hand lashed out- within a second, she held the creature's body in her hand. She turned it over. If worst came to worst, could she bring herself to eat this? Oh, absolutely- it wasn't even a question. When food had been thin on the ground in Fenrir, she'd eaten insects while they were still lively enough to try and escape her throat. It wouldn't be pleasant, but if it meant surviving a little longer, she wouldn't hesitate.

And as long as she bore her memories of Makoto Naegi's hope-filled eyes, she did not intend to give up.

XXXX

8:30 AM

For a while longer, Chiaki stared at the graffiti before remembering herself. She turned around and took in streets around her. Empty. She had a hunch that things would be silent even if her hearing hadn't been robbed. Never before had she felt so alone.

She increased her pace, eager to return to the Office, grab her notebook, and get moving... to where?

Her thinking paused. Where, indeed? The fate of her city was likely the fate of every town, city, village, or other settlement in Japan. Where could she go that wouldn't be under the shadow of Captain Trips?

She looked up- she was in front of the Office. There was nobody inside to interrupt her as she entered and headed to the basement.

As she took the underground chamber in, it occurred to her that she had yet to take off Fuyuhiko's eyepatch, which she'd so recently been wearing to placate the dying Peko. She was absently reaching up to correct this when she noticed something unusual. Or rather, the absence of something.

She glanced to the cell that had recently held her three assailants. Ibuki, of course, she had released less than an hour ago, and Sato lay dead upon her bunk, but the third woman who should be there-

"Thought you'd be back, bitch."

She didn't hear the voice, but she felt the hands on her throat before she found herself thrown across the room, smashing into the very desk she'd returned to search. She looked up through a haze of pain to find Natsumi Kuzuryu, very much alive- though just barely, from the looks of things. Her face was pale white, aside from the black and red rings around her bloodshot eyes, and the trails of green around her mouth and nose. Her throat bulged like a toad's- Chiaki, of course, couldn't hear it, but every breath was a shrill, painful whistle. She was half-dead, and entirely insane.

Her raving eyes zeroed in on Chiaki's face- specifically, on the patch she wore. *You... you took his patch?!* Her voice was rising to dangerously high levels- Chiaki didn't need to hear this to understand that the situation had drastically worsened. *After everything you did, you dare to wear his patch, like you're fit to even breathe the same air he did?!*

Chiaki weakly raised her arms to defend herself. Natsumi leapt atop her and began swinging punches- again and again, her fist smashed Chiaki's head into the ground. At last, she grabbed Chiaki by the sides of her skull, glaring deep into her eyes. *You don't even need the damn thing!* Then, a thought seemed to occur to her. *But if you're that desperate to imitate him...*

Chiaki reached up and grabbed Natsumi's hand as it reached towards her face, fighting with everything she had- discombobulated as she was, it wasn't much. She felt Natsumi's lengthy thumbnail as it dug into her right eye socket, and opened her mouth in a silent scream. It was pain beyond anything she'd experienced.

At last, with a surge of strength, she managed to push Natsumi away from her, and quickly, she scrabbled as far away as she could, hands rising to her damaged eye, clutching at it as her lid sagged over. It had been significantly damaged, perhaps irreparably. She had a hunch she wouldn't be able to see anything out of it even she could muster the strength to lift the lid in the first place.

But she could fret about that later- for the moment, her good eye raked around the chamber for her attacker. She found her- Natsumi had collapsed against the opposite wall, her breathing more shallow than ever. She maintained eye contact with Chiaki to the very end, mouthing words of incoherent rage and hatred.

Slowly, her chest ceased to rise and fall, and the sparks *of fury left her eyes.

Chiaki slowly rose to her feet and made her way across the room. She placed a hand- first on Natsumi's wrist, then her throat, and finally beneath her breast. No pulse, no heartbeat. This time, she truly was dead.

She looked to the ground, and found Fuyuhiko's eyepatch there, cast aside during the brief brawl. She knelt down and picked it up, almost thoughtlessly fastening it over her damaged eye.

Finally, she turned to the desk she'd come for, opening the drawer and finding her notebook there, untouched. Thank God for small favors...

At that thought, she suddenly recalled a dream she'd had- it could only have been a couple weeks ago.

*And you... you're free to come over and visit any time you want. My door is always open.*

She quietly stowed her notebook away in her backpack, taking one last look around the Office before taking her leave for good.

XXXX

12:42 PM

The sky above Osaka was cloudless, nothing impeding the sun from beaming down on the Sotenbori district below.

Were things reflecting the heart of Kaito Momota, the city would be undertaken by a torrential thunderstorm.

He remained silent, sitting on a bench as he stared into the river that gave the district its name. He kept his eyes on the water primarily because the river was the only part of the city free from corpses. They littered the streets, on their own or in cars- more than a few people had attempted to simply drive away from the chaos of the city, only for Trips to take them in their cars, only adding to the chaos and confusion. Some managed to bring their cars to a stop before they died- others did not.

Now that he thought about it, it was fairly likely that the river wasn't entirely clean, either. How many bodies were beneath the water, lurking just out of view? How many had fallen into it and been carried away? He didn't know, nor did he care to- for now, he was content to look into the one place in Osaka that at least pretended that things were alright.

They weren't. How could they be? It seemed that just about everyone he loved was dead. First, Mahiru- sure, he hadn't seen her die on the camera, but he'd sure heard the gunfire before the broadcast ended.

And, just the previous night, his grandmother, the one person in the world he'd been certain he could rely on, had died in his arms.

It was still difficult to wrap his head around the idea. He had wept last night, cried tears of grief that seemed endless at the time... but when he awoke the next day, he found himself unable to cry, even if he tried. He supposed his brain had locked the grief away for his own safety- it was difficult to argue that he had bigger things to worry about now. Nevertheless, he felt very strongly that it would return. Some night, be it tonight, the next, or weeks or even months from now, the gravity of everything that he'd lost would fully set in, and he would break down in tears once more. But for now, he simply felt numb. He had awoken this morning, retrieved his father's guitar, left his grandmother's house, and stepped over the countless corpses outside to eventually find his way to this bench.

Along the way, he'd met survivors- albeit not of the human variety. At some point during that final week, it seemed someone had set loose the animals contained at the Sotenbori zoo. He'd passed three monkeys, two tigers, and even a zebra. Probably more, but those were the ones that stuck out most in his memory. The tigers had been of no threat to him- they, too, had contracted Trips. They likely hadn't even noticed as he'd passed. One of the monkeys had been dead as well- the other two almost seemed to mourn him, or perhaps they were simply wondering when this bizarre angel of death would come for them as well.

Several exotic birds flew through the air- birds of paradise. The phrase tickled something in Kaito's memory- a story he'd told? A story he'd heard? A story he'd lived? He couldn't recall, nor did it seem to particularly matter anymore. Nothing did. What did one even do, waking up after the end of the world?

Slowly, he picked up the guitar, previously sitting next to him on the bench. He'd shaken off some of the rust playing for his grandmother, but still needed some considerable sharpening of his skills if he intended to actually play for anyone again- assuming, of course, he could find anyone to play for.

He resolved to play the first song that came to mind- which, almost to his own surprise, did not end up being 'The Man in Me.'

*"The rusty chains of prison moons

Are shattered by the sun.

I walk the road, horizons change,

The tournament's begun.

The purple piper plays his tune,

The choir softly sings;

Three lullabies in an ancient tongue,

For the court of the Crimson Queen...".*

He paused, thinking hard about what he'd just sung. Much like *The Man in Me,* it was a song he'd heard when he'd begun his foray into western music, and one that stuck out to him. Then again... those weren't the exact words, were they? It was supposed to be 'For the Court of the Crimson King, wasn't it? Of course- it was the title of the song, the album, even the band itself had been *King Crimson.* And yet... somehow, on this particular day, Queen sounded more natural than anything in the world.

*"The keeper of the city keys

Puts shutters on the dreams.

I wait outside the pilgrim's door

With insufficient schemes.

The Black Queen chants a funeral march,

The cracked brass bells will ring,

And summon back the Fire Witch

To the court of the Crimson Queen..."

So engrossed was he in this little mystery- in his own music- that he hardly noticed as another living person crossed a nearby bridge, only to spy him from above. Their eyes widened, and they picked up their pace.

*"The gardener plants an evergreen,

Whilst trampling on a flower.

I chase the wind of a prison ship,

To taste the sweet and-"*

"Hey, hey, you! Over here! Over here, ya fuckin' virgin!"

Kaito nearly dropped his guitar in surprise. He looked up to find a truly bizarre woman rushing over to him- when she was within acceptable speaking range, she nearly collapsed, hands falling to her knees, panting heavily. Her long, strawberry-blond hair fell all over as her head remained briefly bowed. It also gave him a good look at the goggles raised up on her head. She wore what seemed like a pink sailor uniform, complete with skirt.

He blinked. "Um-"

"Don't 'um' me!" she objected, straightening up and pointing at him dramatically. "When Miu fuckin' Iruma calls to you, you answer!"

He stared at her for a moment, wondering if this odd behavior had been brought about by the apocalypse, or if she'd always acted so strange. "Right- sorry 'bout that. I was... distracted."

"Yeah, I could see that," the woman rolled her crystalline blue eyes. "Not that I can blame you, I guess."

She glanced around the desolation surrounding them, then unceremoniously sat down next to him without so much as an invitation. Then again, given that they might well be the last two people in the city, perhaps the usual codes of conduct had gone out the window in any case.

Kaito decided to ask her that terrifying question. "Have you... seen anyone else around?"

"Not really," the woman- Miu Iruma, he presumed- shook her head, her face far more solemn than before as she gazed into the water. "Lots of dead bodies, and a couple of freaks, but nobody... nobody I felt like I could actually talk to."

"Freaks?"

"There was this guy running to the baseball stadium- said he was gonna do a home run naked and start beating off at home plate. 'Chance of a lifetime,' he said." She snorted. "Fuckin' virgins, am I right?"

Kaito shrugged noncommitally, uncertain whether admitting his own virginity would help or hinder the situation.

"But at least there was nobody threatening me, either," Miu muttered. "There's all sorts of shit just layin' around, ya know. You gotta have seen it- all those police and criminals who had guns on 'em, and just died? Anyone can just pick 'em up and use 'em... if they want."

"Yeah... sounds bad," Kaito nodded, wishing he had more to contribute.

"Just makes me wonder what else is just lyin' around out there, waitin' for any old maniac to come along... smart enough to use it and dumb enough to go crazy with it... if ya know what I mean."

"Yeah... though, it'd be hard to make all this worse," Kaito pointed out, gesturing to the corpses surrounding them.

"True..."

She gazed over the river. Abruptly, she produced a bottle from a bag slung over her shoulder, shook out a couple of pills, and swallowed them dry.

"What's that about?" Kaito couldn't stop himself from asking.

"Nothin' to do with Trips, if that's what you're worried about," she scoffed. "Just some medicine I need to take. Don't know where I'm gonna get it refilled anymore..."

She glanced around, looking momentarily uneasy, before returning her gaze to him. "So, I dropped my name, how about giving me yours?"

Kaito started- now that he thought about it, he had yet to give her his name. "Oh- Kaito Momota!"

"So... where you planning on going after this, Kaito?"

Kaito glanced away. That was the million-yen question, wasn't it? Where did he go from here? Where was there to go?

"Out of the city, that's for damn sure," he muttered. "I can't stick around here... there's too much..."

His voice trailed off.

He was very grateful that Miu didn't press it. "Well, I don't know about you, but I wasn't lookin' forward to goin' this brave new world alone. Feel like partnerin' up?"

Kaito returned his gaze to her. Some of his surprise must have shown- she threw her head back and laughed.

"I wouldn't turn me down if I were you! You've got Miu Iruma, girl genius here, offerin' ta help you survive this thing! There are guys who would kill for a chance like that, y'know?"

Kaito couldn't help smiling. Indeed, having someone was far better than no one. "Sounds like a plan." He rose to his feet, turned, and extended a hand. "Wanna come over to my place? My granny raised a gentleman, y'know- I figure I should ask you to dinner. All the restaurants are down, but I can make a decent omelet, if you're interested."

For a moment, Miu looked flustered- truly flustered, at complete odds with the bravado she'd had on before- then the grin was back. "Well, you're off to a good start, Momota! Keep this up, and we might pull through yet!"

XXXX

2:53 PM

Sayaka's hands shook as she held the shovel tight in her white-knuckled grip. She stared at the garden her father had kept so immaculate for every one of the thirty years he'd spent in this house, which he'd never lay eyes on again.

She trembled as she struggled to keep the memories from her mind- memories of awakening and hurrying to her father's room, to find him cold and still. Memories of hurrying downstairs, desperate for a friendly face, to find that Leon, too, had passed on- his empty eyes stared at the ceiling, hands at his chest.

The entire morning had passed in a haze- like a nightmare. She had eaten nothing so far today- she didn't think she'd be able to keep anything down. Even the thought of trying to eat brought bile to her throat.

She sat on her bed for hours before realizing that something obviously needed to be done- and there was no waiting around for somebody else to do it. Her deceased loved ones clearly needed burying, and the only one around to do it was herself.

At long last, she turned the shovel around, driving it into the ground. She placed a foot on the edge and pushed down as far as it would go before hoisting up the earth and tossing it to the side.

The dampness on her face was most certainly not sweat.

She repeated the process. Strike, scoop, toss. Again. Strike, scoop, toss. Again.

Strike, scoop, toss.

Again.

To continue digging was all there was in the world- all she wanted, at any rate. Hers wasn't necessarily a body suited to labor- more suited to dancing on stage for millions of adoring fans who were no doubt as dead now as her loved ones- but she didn't care. She welcomed the blisters, welcomed the sweat when it did come- as long as she had this task, she didn't need to think about what she'd lost.

Dead father-

No. Strike, scoop, toss.

Dead lover-

Stop. Strike, scoop, toss.

Dead idol group-

Shut up. Strike, scoop, toss.

Child on the way in a world that was no longer as it was-

At last, she broke. She felt terrible, selfish for admitting it- that this, of all things, should bring back the tears. Not that her father was dead, not that her former lover was dead, not that every bond she'd made as an idol was effectively meaningless, but that she and her unborn child were now alone.

She only noticed the presence of the other woman when she finally looked up after a good five minutes of weeping.

Toko Fukawa, standing in her father's garden.

She knew she shouldn't hate Toko resent her for daring to survive where all those she loved so dearly had succumbed to this horrible disease. She hated that part of herself that resented Toko, but there was simply no fighting it back either.

At the very least, she didn't have to vocalize such wretched thoughts. "T...Toko... you're... alive?"

"N-no need to sound so shocked," Toko glanced pointedly to the side, her hands fiddling over her chest. "This isn't exactly ideal for m-m-me either, you kn-know."

Sayaka looked away, back at the ground. The first grave was still remarkably shallow, and there was still another to dig after this. She raised the shovel and began again. Strike, scoop, toss. Strike, scoop, toss. "Why are you here?"

"Why d-do you think?" Toko grunted. "I d-d-don't exactly want to be alone r-r-right now either, you kn-know!"

"Actually," Sayaka glanced at her, colder than she perhaps meant to, "I was just thinking how lovely it would be to be alone for a while longer."

Toko flinched as though Sayaka had slapped her. "I... I kn-know we d-d-don't get along... but... I... RRRRRRGGGGHHHHH!" She ran her hands through her hair, messing it up further than it already was. Her braids had been abandoned, allowing her dark hair to fall freely- and messily- down her back. "Do you really need me to say it?!"

No, Sayaka didn't. She understood exactly what Toko was feeling right now.

Toko glanced around. "L-look... if we survived, there m-m-must be others! We c-c-can't be the only ones! I... I want to go find them, but I c-c-can't go alone!"

Strike, scoop, toss. Strike, scoop, toss.

Toko looked closer. "What are you d-d-doing?"

"Burying my father... and Leon."

"Why?"

Sayaka glanced back up at Toko, befuddled. "Why? Because they're dead!"

"Wh-what's the good of p-putting a body in the g-ground anyway?" Toko challenged. "We n-n-need to focus on s-s-survival, here!"

Sayaka stared at her for a long, long moment. She wanted to shout, scream, cry, and about a dozen other things, all at once. Finally, she forced out a single word. "Tomorrow."

"What?"

"Come back... tomorrow."

"B-but-"

"Go away!" Sayaka emphasized, her voice rising in volume and pitch. She wanted to fall to her knees and scream- it was taking everything she had not to do so. ...and come back... tomorrow."

Perhaps seeing there was no more headway to be made here, Toko conceded, turning around and shuffling off, perhaps in search of other survivors.

Sayaka watched her go before returning to her work. Strike, scoop, toss. Strike, scoop, toss.

The sun was beginning to set by the time she'd dug satisfactory graves. They weren't the traditional six feet, but she thought they would understand.

Nor did she have professional equipment to lower them into their respective graves- carrying them from their places of death to their final resting places proved to be the hardest part- perhaps the hardest thing she'd ever done in her life, or ever would.

Then, bit by bit, she began flinging dirt back onto them, returning them to the earth from which they'd come.

By the time her task was complete, the sun was half below the horizon, transforming the sky into arcs of red and orange.

*I should sing something,* she thought. *People... people do that at funerals, don't they?*

Her voice shaking, she began singing the first song that came to mind befitting of such a situation.

"A...Amazing g-g-grace... how sweet... the s-sound...

That saved a... a wretch... l-l-like m-me..."

She gulped, and had to force herself to continue, her voice breaking further and further.

"Once, I was l-l...lost... b-b-but now, I'm f-found...

Once was b...blind, but now, I... I see..."

The last word trailed off into some heavy sobs as she finally collapsed next to their graves, weeping freely for the new, empty world to see.

It was several more minutes before it occurred to her she ought to go in and get some rest.

Her dinner was brief, consisting of easy-to-cook foods she dug out of the freezer and stuck in the microwave. She ate entirely out of necessity, each bite a struggle, and she barely paid attention to what it was.

She staggered back up to her room and collapsed on the bed, wishing, as she had nearly constantly for the past few days, that she would wake up the next day and find that everything had been a horrible nightmare.

XXXX

Almost as if in mockery of this wish, she suffered a nightmare that very night.

She sat upon the sofa, watching one of her old idol shows with a sad smile- faces she held so dear to her dancing around the stage at her side. In those days, life had been good.

Suddenly, the lights went out, and when they returned, they were all dead- each and every one of her old idol group lay dead upon the stage, their horribly distended throats marking the cause all too clearly.

In a panic, Sayaka grabbed the remote and attempted to turn the television off- but it wouldn't turn off. The vision it bore her seemed to grow larger, threatening to swallow her whole and pull her into that nightmare world where all she loved had been forcibly taken from her. In a last-ditch effort, she threw the remote at the TV, shattering the screen and breaking the spell it held over her.

She could stay here no longer. She rose from the sofa and hurried up the stairs to her room.

She was distracted when she saw something out of the corner of her eye, in her father's room. Very visibly, there was someone- or, more likely, something lying motionless on his bed, covered by a simple white sheet. Her eyes filled with tears as she slowly approached the form. Slowly, her hand reached out, ready to pull back the sheet and reveal her father's face one last time.

Except it wasn't her father.

There was a woman beneath the sheets- a woman she'd never seen before, but whose appearance filled her with dread.

Her blond hair was pulled into a pair of pigtails, held in place by a pair of pins in the shape of bears- one white and friendly, the other black and demonic.

Her eyes seemed hidden beneath a shadow, but there was no hiding that smile- that awful smile.

The woman rose from the bed, turning that terrible grin towards her. "Oh, now, that baby is just going to leech your life away," she said, her honeyed voice dripping with faux concern. "How about we take care of that?"

She raised her hand- in it was an old, rusty coat hanger.

Sayaka let out a scream as she turned and began to run. She could sense that other woman- that dark woman- right behind her. She attempted to fly down the stairs, but missed a step and found herself plunging towards the ground, the laughter of that woman ringing in her ears.

XXXX

As the story often goes, she woke up before she hit the ground, and immediately looked around, shuddering, arms protectively around her belly, convinced she was about to see that nightmarish smile emerge from the shadows of her room.

It took her a long time to get back to sleep, but mercifully, once she did, she had no more dreams.

XXXX

5:43 PM

Hifumi Yamada awoke to see the sky arching above. His entire body was in pain- he could feel the horrible bulges around his throat signifying that the end was near. "I'm sorry... my golden goddess..."

Abruptly, another face appeared in his line of sight- icy blue eyes framed by strawberry-blond hair pulled into pigtails. "Apology accepted!" she greeted him cheerfully.

He let out a scream, energy surging into his form as he attempted to scrabble across the pavement beneath him. Memory came rushing back- he'd been driving down the road in his car- an old but perfectly serviceable Toyota- trying to find his way towards the one woman he knew would be able to help in this new, abandoned world. It was slow going as the world descended into chaos around him, and then... ahead of him... the world had begun to warp, until, as if from nothing, this woman had appeared in front of him... he'd swerved in an effort to avoid her...

"You're... the... the woman!" he gasped, feeling the blood leaking from the back of his head. "The... the Dark Woman!"

The woman's face changed, becoming slightly more serious- looking at him as a teacher might gaze at an unruly student. A pair of glasses appeared on her face, her pigtails disappearing in favor of a single ponytail. "So some call me, but of course, that's not my actual name."

It happened again- the pigtails came back, and a crown appeared atop her head. "You, peasant, may address us as Lady Flagg!"

He whimpered, taking it all in- she was just as she had appeared in his dreams, all the more frightening for her reality. She wore a skirt reminiscent of a schoolgirl uniform, complete with a tie that was split down the middle- black on one side, white on the other. She wore two buttons just below her right breast- on top was a smiley face, though she had done some editing of her own, coloring one side white, the other black- the black side's eye had been distended and colored red, its mouth flashing several very sharp teeth. Beneath this was a far simpler button, carrying the design of a bird- a blue bird, portrayed in silhouette.

"Hey, hey, stay with me," the Dark Woman grunted, smacking at his face as his brain attempted to escape into unconsciousness- an unconsciousness, he felt sure, he'd not wake up from. "I need you to give me a little info, then you have my permission to die, understand?"

"I... won't tell you... anything..."

"Ohhh..." The woman's face took on a pronounced pout. "But you were willing to tell everyone else about your precious 'golden goddess,' you big meanie!"

Something clicked in his mind. "Mu... Mother Otonashi?"

"'Mother Otonashi?'" Lady Flagg repeated, her eyes widening just a bit. "Ryoko Otonashi?"

Her face lit up as if Christmas had come early. Her lips pulled up in a smirk, and her hands rose to her sides, crossing in front of her as she adopted a stereotypical rocker's pose. "Please tell me you just said you were goin' to find Ryoko fuckin' Otonashi!"

Hifumi did not answer, gazing in horror upon the woman- if that, indeed, was what she was- before him. Seemingly, he didn't need to.

Flagg threw back her head and laughed. "Works for me! I've been meaning to track that old bitch down anyhow!"

She placed a hand on his face, her own twisted in mock sympathy. "Welp, a promise is a promise- I'll leave you to die in peace!"

Hifumi watched in horror as she turned, skipping along as she made her way down the road. "Mother Otonashi... forgive me..." he whimpered quietly before slipping back into unconsciousness- a sleep from which he did not awaken.

XXXX

Once again, Makoto awoke in a vast field of corn. He was sitting on the front steps of the old, traditional house that rose from the corn sea's center.

The corn formed a circle around the building. The circle also included a large tree, from which dangled a tire swing. Not far from there was a jungle gym- swingset, seesaw, monkey bars, a slide, everything one might expect. Looking at it, he could almost imagine phantom children laughing and playing about on it.

Finally, he turned to the one person he knew would be here- the old woman, who, sure enough, was rocking in her chair, guitar in her lap.

"...Everybody's dead, aren't they?" he asked, sorrow deep in his voice.

"Not everybody," Ryoko shook her head. "There are survivors, as there always are."

"...Kiri... Kyoko?"

The woman shook her head. "...I'm so sorry."

Makoto allowed his face to fall into his hands as he began to weep. Ryoko slowly rose from her chair and made her way to him, sitting down at his side and placing a hand on his back. "I won't say not to cry...no tear is an evil."

After a while, he managed to stop, and looked towards her.

"Get it all out," she advised. "There's a long road ahead of us all yet. There are still people out there who need you."

"Need me?"

"Your sister is still alive," she confided. "When you wake up, find her... then come on over. My door is always open."

"Why... who are you?"

"Someone... not too different from you, I suppose." Her voice fell to a whisper. She leaned over and whispered something into his ear.

"Somebody who's seen the Rose."

XXXX

9:42 PM

Makoto's eyes opened on the same room as always- for the most part. Shortly after the Last Broadcast, as he was already coming to think of it, the big man- Juzo- had entered his room with a gun, keeping it trained on him as another couple men carried the television out. It was a pointless gesture, in Makoto's mind- any secrets they were trying to keep were blown, and the TV wasn't showing anything else in any case- every channel had given way to static. Of course, with a gun pointed directly at his head, he didn't feel the need to point any of this out.

Slowly, he rolled over, and jumped- almost screamed- when he saw that he wasn't quite alone. There was a woman sitting in the room's sole chair, gazing at him. Her hair was a bright red, and immaculately kept, falling over a white dress. Her eyes were a crystal blue as she smiled gently- and, he thought, somewhat sadly- down at him.

"It's been a long time," she said softly- almost a whisper.

Makoto blinked, and the woman was gone- but he still wasn't alone. There was a man standing behind the chair. His brown hair was long, pulled into a ponytail that reached his lower back. His skin was darker than the woman's creamy complexion, and he wore a very traditional hakama. His voice was deep, but somehow soothing.

"I understand your hesitation. If we tell you three things, and they come true... will we have earned your trust?"

He was still asleep- he had to be. It was the only explanation for what was happening right now. Well, he may as well play along, see this dream through to its end. He nodded.

Suddenly, the woman was back, raising a single finger. "There is a woman with music in her hair." She spoke slowly and clearly, obviously intent on making sure he understood every word.

Then the man had returned, holding up two fingers. "The everyman is not what he seems," he enunciated gravely.

Finally, the woman appeared back in the chair, holding up three fingers. "The underworld's guardian is your greatest ally."

"I... I don't understand," Makoto found himself whispering.

"You will," the man assured him.

"Your sister lives," the woman put in. "Not so very far from here."

"But move with caution," the man instructed. "This place is no longer safe- it is a place of disease and madness."

Then, just as suddenly as they'd appeared, they were both gone, leaving a very befuddled Makoto in their wake.

He slowly raised his fingers and pinched his cheek as hard as he could. "Ah!" Well, if he'd been asleep before, he was at least awake now.

Before he could get his bearings any further, the door slid open. Juzo Sakakura stood there, his face and neck marred by clear signs of Captain Trips. "You're coming with me," he growled, producing a gun and aiming directly at him. "Move it, kid."

Makoto's mind went into overdrive- Juzo intended to kill him either way, that much was clear to him. He was on his last legs, and meant to take Makoto down with him.

He subtly glanced around for anything he might use as a makeshift weapon. The only thing he found was the metal chair that had so recently been occupied by the woman. But how could he use it without getting shot?

"MOVE IT, KID!"

Makoto rose to his feet and took a shambling step forward. Adrenaline rushed through him, sweat poured down his face. He wasn't a violent person by nature, but he could hardly allow this man to execute him, not with Komaru still breathing.

At the thought of this man killing him, then moving on to Komaru, his resolve steeled. Putting on a face of exaggerated shock, he pointed behind Juzo. "What the- that rat's the size of cat! What kind of place are you running here!"

It was much to his own surprise that this actually worked- he could only attribute it to Trips meddling with the man's mind so much he couldn't see through even this obvious ruse. But he didn't waste time marveling at it either- the second Juzo turned his back, he hoisted the chair and brought it down on the man's head.

Juzo grunted and collapsed to the ground, blood oozing where he'd been struck. Makoto bent over him and wrenched the gun from his hand- God knew he didn't want to use it, but he couldn't let this man keep it, either.

He rushed into the hallway for the first time in what felt like eons. It was a mess of blaring lights and alarms. He rushed as fast as he could, checking every room for signs of his sister- instead, he found countless corpses. Little wonder Juzo had fallen into madness- he was likely the only person here still breathing, and wouldn't be for long.

At last, he found her- there was a room with several metal chairs lined up, looking through a one-way mirror as though it were a theater screen. On the other side was Komaru Naegi, pacing around restlessly, occasionally crying out for assistance- not that he could hear it.

He moved to the door first, but found that it wouldn't open for him. He returned to the chairs, picking one up, and, without preamble, smashing it across the window.

Komaru jumped, eyes wide as she looked towards the glass- which, as far as she was concerned, was showing only her own reflection.

"Stand away!" he cried, hoping she could hear him. The glass had cracked, but not shattered. He reared back and swung again- the cracks expanded, but still didn't give way.

Komoru, at least, seemed to get the message- she jumped back and hid beneath her bed.

Abandoning all decorum, Makoto produced the gun he'd taken from Juzo and fired several shots at the weakened glass- at last, it gave way. He used the chair to break apart as much more as he could. "Komaru!" he called. "Komaru!"

"Makoto?!" Komaru came out from under her bed and looked astonished when she saw her brother widening the gap in the window as much as he could. "What's going-"

"No time! We need to get out of here!" He held out a hand- she leapt forward and took it. He worked to hoist her through the glass.

She screamed out as he finally put her on the other side. He looked down and his heart stopped when he saw the gash in her leg. A quick look revealed the exact glass blade that had done the deed.

"Are you alright?" he asked urgently.

She looked down, testing her leg. "I... I think I will be... it doesn't feel that deep- come on!"

The two turned and began to run through the facility. Makoto provided what support he could, but there was only so much he could provide without severely dampening their speed.

His eyes raked the walls, looking for any signs of an exit. Their path took them down several flights of stairs. The flashing emergency lights proved very disorienting.

Finally, he was able to spy some signs pointing out different wards of the building- including the lobby, down a nearby set of stairs. He adjusted course, helping his sister descend this last flight of steps, emerging right next to an elevator.

An elevator that was currently opening. From it emerged a red-eyed, absolutely mad Juzo Sakakura. He lurched out and grabbed onto the first thing he could- in this case, Komaru's leg. She fell over, causing Makoto to lose his balance and topple in kind. She screamed as he dug his fingers into her wound.

"YOU'RE NOT GETTING AWAY! YOU MURDERED HIM, YOU LITTLE SHIT- YOU KILLED HIM!"

A red haze descended on Makoto when he saw Juzo dragging and scrabbling at his sister's injured leg. He acted almost without conscious thought, raising the gun he'd taken and firing a single shot. A red splotch appeared above Juzo's eyes- for a moment, even he seemed surprised, before his grip slackened, and his arm fell to the floor.

Komaru was sobbing as she pulled herself free. A sense of unreality descended on Makoto as he rose to his own feet before helping Komaru to hers, turning and continuing to help her lope towards the exit- it was right nearby, opening out onto the night.

For a moment, he feared what would happen if he attempted to open the doors, only to find them locked- but they opened very easily.

Out the doors, into the cool night air- down a set of steps before finally allowing them to collapse onto the grass. Almost in disbelief, he looked around at the bright, starry sky, marred only by the facility they'd just escaped.

Looking around, he spotted what looked to be a small forest at the facility's edge. Reluctantly, he ushered Komaru to her feet. "C'mon..." he whispered. "We... we need to get out of sight."

Komaru whimpered, but cooperated, forcing herself to her feet, leaning heavily on her brother as he guided her into the trees.

He didn't push her too far before allowing her to slump against a tree at the edge of a small clearing. The moon was full, casting an ethereal beauty on the scene.

"M-Makoto..." Komaru sobbed. "E...Everybody's dead... everybody's dead!"

Makoto remained silent as he took off his hoodie. It wasn't his first choice, but it was the end of the world- he didn't exactly have the luxury of being picky. He ripped off the sleeves and made them into a makeshift wrap for Komaru's injury. "No," he whispered. "We're alive."

"But for how long?!" Komaru cried. "What are we gonna do?! What are we gonna do?!"

He held her in his arms, rocking her gently to sleep, as he had many a time in her youth when she seemed inconsolable. It took longer than usual, but before long, her breathing began to slow, and he was able to lean her back into the tree, watching her chest gently rise and fall.

He glanced at the ground, where he'd dropped the gun he'd so recently used to end Juzo's life. He picked it up, and was momentarily taken by an urge to toss it as far into the trees as he could.

But no... he couldn't do that. It was just him and his sister now, alone in a world that had suddenly become significantly more hostile. To cast away what may be their only method of defense could be suicidally foolish. Besides... if they were lucky, he may end up not having to use it at all.

He collapsed next to his sister, leaning against the tree. He thought of everything that had happened, searching for an answer to her question. What were they going to do now?

The answer came to him with surprising ease. He leaned over and whispered into her ear the two words that, unbeknownst to him, were on the lips of countless people across the country- a simple name that bore with it the promise of safety, of hope.

"Ryoko Otonashi."

XXXX

Things are getting heavier. I consider this the end of the first major story arc- The Plague. Tune in next time for the beginning of the next, The Odyssey. Things are far from over. I'm gonna try a new outro- until next time, long days and pleasant nights, may it do you fine. Gamer4 out.