Chapter 5: Reality Check

Day 5

It was warm, and fluffy clouds drifted lazily in the morning sky.

Crimson rays shone upon the land, the gentle breeze caressing his face. The sound of waves lapped beside his ears, the comforting feeling of soft sand under his feet. It was a new dawn, and he drew in a deep breath, the long-awaited fresh air filling his lungs.

It was a good day to be at the beach.

"Iroha," he muttered at the flaxen-haired girl who was in a sleeveless sailor uniform. "Where'd you get that? At the mall?"

"Hehe," she giggled, twirling to show off her outfit. "Like what you see?"

"How'd you swim in that?" he chuckled at her bunny-ear hairband.

"Oh, is that a challenge?" she huffed, folding her arms, "I'm sure I can beat you to that island over there."

"Well, just because I have dead-fish eyes doesn't mean I have fins," he shrugged as she burst out in laughter. It was a rare moment of mirth, and he allowed himself to revel in the cheery atmosphere, hoping, wishing, praying that it could somehow last forever.

"I have a lifebuoy if you ever need one," she smirked, offering him the item with the characters 'zekamashi' scribbled on the surface. "Don't be shy, else I'll be going in alone."

"I'll stay here for now," he patted her head as she could not help but glance away in disappointment. "Take care, and don't go far."

"You too, senpai. Ciao."

Lying by the water, he stared at the cerulean firmament, lost in the horizon where the sky appeared to meet the sea. It was a mirage, an illusion, a Shangri-la he could not attain, but it was mesmerising and beautiful, and a part of him wondered if that was all that truly mattered. After all, he had always wanted what was genuine, he had gone to great lengths no matter the pain, but if the tunnel extended to infinity, if happiness was eternally beyond his reach, was it okay for him to retreat to a corner, to huddle in the void where despair could not find him?

A cold wetness struck his cheek as he looked up, the sun obscured by a layer of smoke billowing from someplace off the shore. It had begun to rain, the temperature plunging to an unforgiving chill, and he shuddered in the wind, unknown fear and dread hanging over his head. Leaping to his feet, he shouted at the roiling ocean, only to be greeted by a deafening silence and a familiar darkness in the howling storm.

Alas, there was no reply.

As soon as he opened his eyes, he ran to her bedside, grasping her to feel her pulse, relieved by the warmth of her beating heart. Stirred from her sleep, she put on a smile to tell him that she was fine, that he need not worry.

"Had a nightmare, senpai?" she managed to find her voice, "Me too."

"It's probably the fever," he noted, handing her some pills. "Here's a spell to keep the ghosts and the phantoms away."

"What am I, a little kid?" she coughed, nearly choking on the bitter medication, "The supernatural doesn't scare me - real things do. Like guilt and remorse, and the fragments of what could have been."

"Dreams aren't real," he assured, unsure if he was addressing himself or her. "Don't dwell on them, they can't hurt you."

In the silence, she turned to stare at the grey sky, the clock ticking its regular song, the only sound in the quiet. Trembling fingers tugged on the blanket as it drizzled outside, droplets pattering on the glass, yet she could not seem to find comfort on the musty old bunk.

"Are spirits real, senpai? Why are they often portrayed as evil and malevolent? Can't they also be good and kind, watching people as they go about their lives?"

"I don't know, Iroha. I'm not from the Occult Research Club. If you asked me, I'd say that the end is final, that humans aren't special just because we happen to have enough neurons in our brain to be sentient and self-aware. We're all stardust, put together in different combinations and permutations based on our genetic code, and we obey the universal laws that govern the atoms and the planets. We return to the same nothingness that awaits the bacteria and the elephants, and if we don't see any afterlife for the ants and the apes, that's probably because it doesn't exist."

"But wouldn't it be nice if there was a heaven for us, to have a bearded old man or an interdimensional being give us rest?" he continued, blinking as a trail of moisture somehow made its way down his face. "It doesn't make the conflicts and the contradictions go away, but it's something to look forward to at the end of a long, tiring life."

"Senpai…" was all she said as she wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly, never wanting to let go. For a long while, she buried her quivering frame in his chest as he ran his fingers through her hair, inadvertently pulling off a few loose strands which fell on the pillow and the floor. He grimaced at the sight, but she stubbornly held in her tears, forbidding herself from breaking down and crumbling in his warm embrace.

"I-I need to use the bathroom," she forced a giggle. "Care to carry me there?"

"Feeling too weak to walk?" he asked, more concerned than hesitant.

"Of course not," she faked a pout, "I could go by myself, but where's the fun in that? Just get me to the door, unless you'd like to–"

"Fine," he relented, turning red with embarrassment. "Not into the latter, thank you very much."

"Neither am I," she grinned at his priceless reaction, only to blush as he lifted her from the mattress like a bride while she clung to his shirt, indulging in the sensation around her back and her thighs. Clad in a jersey and short pants - spare underwear being in limited supply, she was not in the best state of dress, not that she would mind him tracing out the linings of her chest if he tried.

Alas, before she knew it, he had made his way across the room, gently setting her down on her feet. She wobbled a little, unused to supporting her own weight, having lost much of her appetite, but nonetheless staggered into the toilet and shut the door, trusting him enough not to lock it in case she needed assistance. Alone in the darkness, she slumped against the wall to cry, clamping a hand over her mouth to stop the weeping from alerting the person who was undoubtedly waiting outside.

"You can leave now," she sniffled, knowing that it would take some time for her to compose herself. "You don't have to carry me back."

"Don't push yourself. It's eight in the morning, and breakfast isn't until nine. Kawa-something has never been early–"

"Hikigaya-kun," another voice interrupted just as she was about to respond, "I hope you aren't being a creepy pervert by disturbing Isshiki-san while she's in there. Hayama-kun has called for a meeting, and you'll be late if you don't hurry."

"Just go, senpai," she echoed, pounding a fist on the door to make her point. A shuffle of footsteps quickly followed, and the room became quiet once more.

I'll be alright by myself, she whispered, allowing the anguished sobs to leave her chest.

Nobody can hear me now.

"What's this about?" he questioned as the ice queen practically dragged him to the library, pinching hard on his arm. The others were already seated when he arrived, the blond captain being the only one standing, his curly-haired partner drumming her fingers in her usual impatient mood.

"Yo, Komachi," he greeted his little sister, who was sitting beside a guy whose surname he could not quite remember. She waved back, cute as ever, unlike the boy– never mind.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Hayama began. "It's come to our attention that despite repeated broadcasts by the government to stay indoors, people have started to hit the streets in search of food and clean water. A few have stopped by our gates requesting for aid, and while we've generously contributed within our means, especially to women and children, I'm afraid we can't keep up for long. Charity has its limits, and we'll need to draw the lines, or we'll eventually deplete our own supplies."

"I understand, but those who turn up for help may need it more than us," Komachi was the first to speak up. "We have provisions to last another week, but they may have starving families to feed. In such desperate times, it can be cruel to be selfish, knowing that it could mean certain death or suffering, even if it's out of sight and out of mind."

"It's simple - do you want to live or die?" the fire queen cut her short. "If it's between my friends and some stranger, I sure as hell know where I stand. If you want to survive, grow up and be prepared to make tough decisions. Don't get me wrong, I have a heart too, but when everything we consume is at the expense of tomorrow, when everyone we help could cost us more than it's worth, I agree with Hayato that any assistance should be solely on our terms. If you want to donate, be my guest, but you don't have the right to dig into our inventory just because you're with the Kawasakis now."

"Aye, indeed," her maroon-haired rival concurred, her two sycophants nodding away. "Who even put them in charge of the rations? Why do they get to oversee such an important resource just because they're sleeping in the kitchen? Shouldn't we get a say when we're putting in equal if not more effort?"

"This isn't about us, it's about who we want to be - part of the vicious cycle or the solution," Komachi retorted. "I don't mean to endanger ourselves or bend over backwards, but why do you think people are risking their lives to beg for scraps? Some of them would've run out of food or clean water while we're sitting on a stockpile of goodies, living on borrowed property which doesn't even belong to us in the first place. Yeah, in case you forgot, we own none of what we're eating or wearing, we took everything from someone else, and if it wasn't for sheer luck and destiny, we could very well be in their shoes, wandering the ruins of civilisation for the next meal."

"We'd be if you give away all of our food!" the fire queen snarled. "Life's unfair, deal with it! I didn't ask to be born in an age of global thermonuclear war, and I don't give a rat's ass about you or your brother's philosophical mumbo jumbo. It's our choice when we're in control, and it's not when someone else is in charge. And trust me, things could be so much worse when that happens."

"I guess if everyone thought like you, no wonder the world ended this way," Komachi remarked dryly. "Most people are innately selfish, few would be opening their doors, that's why so many are trekking in the radiation just to quench their thirst."

"Tell me then, smarty-pants, what should we do when we run out?" Miura challenged. "Would you be restocking from the shelves of the empty, looted supermarkets with your useless yen, which I have more than you? In your words, we'd have to steal, don't we? Or worse, take from others by force. Just how far would you go for your ideals? Would you rob Peter to pay Paul? How would the former - or anyone for that matter - have resources if it wasn't scavenged from someone else? Would the innocent and the righteous not resort to theft and thuggery when the gravy train inevitably stops? How can we be bloody philanthropists when we can't even sustain ourselves?"

"We'll hold an anonymous vote," Hayama piped in before the argument could drag on. "We'll decide on the amount of assistance to provide. It's far from perfect, but it's the only means to resolve our differences and come to an agreement we can live by. At least the majority would be happy, even if that power comes with responsibility, and the ones who don't get their way won't feel too guilty."

Great, if only principles and morality worked that way.

"I'll raise the rate by five percent each round until we arrive at a value," he explained. "Just think of it as a referendum on the tax to be distributed as international foreign aid."

"They're fellow citizens, members of our community," Komachi sighed, jumping at the last-ditch attempt to convince her audience. "Not that it should matter even if they aren't. I know we can't help everyone. I know it's hypocritical to want to help those in our immediate vicinity even though more could be suffering beyond our reach. I just think it wouldn't hurt to do some good without deliberating too hard."

"That's enough, Komachi," the little bug patted her shoulder. "We heard you loud and clear, have some faith in your friends and your brother."

Oi, thanks but how and when did you get so chummy with her?

"We'll hold this exercise once a day so we can adjust the mandate based on the situation," the blond captain declared as the ballots were cast. "We'll also set up a foodbank for passers-by to leave their donations. Everyone is free to contribute more than their fair share, but whatever it is, I'll stress that we'll need to be really careful about this."

"The more we give out, the more word would spread. Some would come in groups, and many would mistake this place as an actual government shelter or a distribution centre. We may find ourselves with a crowd which we can't turn back, especially when they've heard of others receiving prior aid. At that point, we can't just close shop because nobody'll care if we're samaritans, volunteers, or just some teenagers trying to be kind. All they know is that we have reserves which we have no real right to hoard or claim."

"For now, we're debating about how much to give, as if we're in control, but when the masses gather outside, they'll be wondering why we get to dictate anything at all. If they're civil, they'll demand access into what they deem is an underutilised public space - never-mind that Sobu is a private school. But more likely than not, when the mob grows large enough with armed men in the fray, the gates will come crashing down, and we'll be lucky to be alive when they mop up the compound."

"That's why supply stations are guarded by soldiers and the police. If we're to interact with the outside world, we'll have to maximise our defences, from strict 24/7 patrols to improvised weapons training. We'll need to wave around a metaphorical big stick to show that we're prepared to deter any aggression - because in a world with no laws but that of the jungle, we'll have to fight like predators or run like prey."

"I-Is it too late to change our votes?" the airhead gulped.

"Of course not," he smiled as she was joined by the ice queen, the part-time warrior, and even the dead-fish eyed loner. "Though I think it's clear what the result will be."

Damn you, Hayama, you did that on purpose, didn't you? Dangling false hope just to make the wounds cut deep, Hachiman growled, cursing the faker as much as himself for turning against his little sister. It was the only way, the logical path to take, but for the longest time, he kept his head low, unable to bring himself to meet her shocked gaze.

Sorry, Komachi, you have every right to hate me, but I'll never give you up for anything.

I'll trade myself and the universe for you, my only sibling and family.

"Two against fifteen," the blond captain announced calmly as she bit her lip. "I won't stop you from doing what you must, but you know the risks."

"Onee-chan, Hikigaya-senpai," the boy clenched his fists as his older sister averted her eyes, unable to face his glare. "Let's just go, Komachi, we have people to help."

"Taishi," she breathed, taking his hand as he led her away.

Sorry, onii-chan, it seems that we can't agree.

But if you ever were to hate me, just know that I'll always love you.

A/N: Hachiman's dream is a reference to the ship-girl Shimakaze from Kantai Collection, who shares the same VA as Iroha. Best girl Kongou (same VA as Yuigahama) addresses her by the nickname "Zekamashi" in the anime. In real life, she sank near Cebu, Philippines in 1944.

I'm glad to read your comments last week and would like to respond to a few points:

1. Iroha's fate is uncertain, but she was outside the mall and on the streets when the nukes struck in Chapter 1. She also ran for a few hours, part of the journey of which was under the rain as mentioned in Chapter 2.

2. By default, Hachiman and Yukino are a pair. But WW3 didn't happen in canon, and as a reader pointed out, the rules change in a post-apocalyptic world. Whether it's true love, guilt, or pity, he'll have to make tough choices to pursue the illusion or struggle for the genuine thing. Sorry if I can't make everyone happy (this fic is tagged hurt/comfort - it isn't meant to be fluff or an after-story), but I'll try my best to do justice to all the characters.

3. While some may draw analogies from the second half of this chapter, it isn't a fair comparison as they're living under distressed and anarchic conditions in a post-war society. I'm not from Europe or America or a developed country (where I'm from is for you to guess, English isn't my native language) and I don't intend to wade into that subject.

I just think it's an underexplored theme in fiction, given that most works portray the survivors as wanderers, and even if they were to help others, it'll usually be in a limited capacity because most people have already become zombies, or have otherwise long died before the story begins. But as with any war in history, some would perish in the initial strike, but most would die in the subsequent famine and violence because there would inevitably be more survivors than resources in the early stages of doomsday. People are hardy, and self-preservation is a powerful motivator, hence life finds a way - even if it may be at the expense of another.

Update (11 Feb): Thanks to the kind support, I'll be resuming this fic after a brief hiatus. In the meantime, feel free to check out my other works The Holy Grail War of Chiba (Oregairu x Fate), Hikki-NEET vs The World (Oregairu x Konosuba), Afterschool Service Club (K-On! x Oregairu) and Reality Offline (SAO x Oregairu AU - completed).

As always, favs/follows/reviews highly appreciated!