Chapter Text
The end of the world came suddenly, just after Mafuyu and the others had graduated from high school.
The city had been empty for years.
Not silent — never silent — but empty in the way that meant no rules, no systems, no guarantees anyone would come if something went wrong.
Mafuyu sat cross-legged on the hood of a rusted car, the Gibson across his lap, connected to an old portable amplifier that they somehow managed to keep working, fingers idly picking out a progression that echoed down the cracked freeway. His voice carried across the ruined expanse.
“La-la-la… La-la-la-la-la…”
Heat shimmered off broken concrete. Wind threaded through exposed rebar somewhere above them, producing a faint metallic whine that blended with the music.
Ritsuka leaned against a slab of broken concrete, rifle slung over his shoulder, pretending he wasn’t watching Mafuyu’s hands instead of the horizon.
“You’re supposed to be on lookout,” Hiiragi said from behind them, dropping a canvas pack onto the asphalt with a heavy thud. “If we get ambushed because you’re staring at our boyfriend again, I’m not saving you.”
“I am on lookout,” Ritsuka snapped. “I can multitask.”
“You absolutely cannot.”
Mafuyu smiled faintly without looking up.
Footsteps approached from the overpass.
All three of them tensed — until the familiar rhythm of boots on concrete registered.
Shizusumi.
Ritsuka lowered the rifle immediately. Hiiragi exhaled. Mafuyu’s shoulders loosened.
Shizusumi came into view a moment later, dust-streaked, calm as ever, carrying a large canvas bag. His spear rested against his shoulder, balanced like it weighed nothing.
Hiiragi folded his arms.
“You disappeared for a day and a half,” he said. “That better not be canned beans.”
“It’s a mix of things. Everything has been pretty much picked clean.”
He crouched in front of Mafuyu and pulled out something wrapped carefully in cloth. He unwrapped the bundle.
Inside was a pristine set of guitar strings.
Real ones. Uncorroded. Pre-Collapse packaging.
Mafuyu blinked.
“…You found these?”
“Yeah,” Shizusumi said simply. “Took a while.”
For a moment nobody spoke.
Then Ritsuka groaned dramatically and dragged a hand down his face.
“Unbelievable. Fantastic. Great. I bring him food and shelter and emotional devotion, and you bring legendary relic guitar strings.”
Hiiragi smacked his arm.
“You don’t compete, idiot. If Mafuyu’s happy, we all survive longer.”
Mafuyu looked up at Shizusumi, eyes bright in that quiet way that always hit harder than tears.
“Thank you,” he said softly.
Shizusumi reached out, brushing Mafuyu’s hair back from his face — gentle, careful, like he always was with him.
“Happy birthday,” he said.
Somewhere in the distance, something howled.
Ritsuka sighed, picked up his rifle, and stood.
“Okay,” he muttered. “Romance later. Mutants now.”
Hiiragi grabbed his iron-studded tetsubo.
Shizusumi rose smoothly beside them.
But Mafuyu didn’t move yet.
He turned one of the tuning pegs slowly.
A note rang out.
Then another.
Ritsuka froze.
“…You’re not just playing,” he said.
Mafuyu didn’t answer.
The progression shifted — deliberate, spaced, echoing across the broken freeway basin.
Three rising tones.
Pause.
Two short strums. A soaring vocal line…
Hiiragi’s posture changed instantly.
“Luring them in,” he murmured. In the distance, something shrieked. “And signaling Haruki if he’s close by.”
Movement followed — shapes slipping between abandoned vehicles, drawn toward the sound. Desiccated bodies, lurching wildly as they began to pick up speed.
Mafuyu lowered the pitch, establishing a steady pulsing rhythm that bounced off the concrete walls.
Signal confirmed.
Target acquired.
Shizusumi lifted his spear from where he’d rested it against the car.
“Five,” he said quietly. “Maybe six.”
Ritsuka thumbed the magazine, counting rounds. He still hadn’t gotten used to how calm Mafuyu looked when danger was this close — like the world narrowed into something simple and solvable.
Hiiragi shifted his weight, tetsubo gripped tightly, adjusting his stance instinctively as he anticipated the first strike.
A voice drifted lazily from nearby.
“Your intonation is better today.”
Ugetsu lay stretched across a sun-warmed boulder, one arm draped over his eyes, violin case beside him like a pillow.
“Try not to die before Akihiko hears it,” he added.
“I won’t,” Mafuyu said.
Ugetsu tilted his head slightly toward the horizon without opening his eyes.
“We’re still waiting for Akihiko and Haruki. If you get eaten, it will be very inconvenient for everyone.”
Ritsuka stared at him.
“You could help, you know.”
“I am helping,” Ugetsu said. “I’m supervising morale. I’ll leave a signal for Akihiko and Haruki.”
He stood, hung a signal flag off the nearest rebar, then spray-painted an arrow pointing in the general direction of their camp. Satisfied, he picked up his violin, checked and rechecked his revolver, and started down the trail, moving with the same casual authority he always had.
Hiiragi snorted.
From the opposite direction, footsteps pounded over rubble.
“Oi! We’re back!”
Shogo Itaya appeared first, moving fast despite the heavy sack over his shoulder. Ryu Ueki followed with another, both of them flushed and dusty.
They dropped the bags with twin thuds.
“Glad you’re back,” said Ugetsu, trying to sound nonchalant.
Daikon spilled into view — long white roots streaked with dirt.
“Abandoned farm east of here,” Shogo said proudly. “Nobody home except two slow walkers.”
“We grabbed as much as we could carry,” Ryu added.
Hiiragi blinked. “…You risked your lives for vegetables.”
“We need vitamins,” Shogo said defensively.
“Well, we won’t go hungry.” Ugetsu got to his feet, examined the daikon, then leaned in for a quick kiss on the corner of Shogo’s mouth.
“I’m fine,” said Shogo, kissing him back, lingering. “You worry too much.”
Ugetsu flashed him a quick side eye.
“Besides Ayano would never forgive me if I didn’t bring her husband back in one piece,” Shogo added, clapping a hand on his best friend’s shoulder.
“And Haruki will be happy,” Ryu said.
That was, admittedly, convincing.
A shriek cut closer.
Mafuyu stopped playing.
Silence fell.
Then he stood.
The guitar slid onto his back in one smooth motion.
A katana leaned against the car beside him.
He picked it up.
Ritsuka groaned. “Every time you do that, I feel unnecessary.”
“You’re not unnecessary,” Mafuyu said gently.
Hiiragi grinned. “He just looks cooler than you.”
“Shut up.”
The first creature scrambled over the barrier — fast, strong, jaws snapping.
Mafuyu moved.
The katana met the lunging body at neck height. The impact shuddered up his arms, a sharp vibration rolling to his wrists. Dust and dry earth puffed into the air, and the metallic tang of blood hit the back of his throat as the blade cut cleanly through — decapitating the creature in a single, fluid motion. The head rolled, spinning across the cracked asphalt, looking little like it had when it was alive.
Shizusumi intercepted another, lowering his spear. With a controlled step forward, he drove the tip directly through the creature’s skull. The shaft thumped sharply against bone, vibrating up his hands. He adjusted his grip instantly, ready for the next move, while the body slumped silently to the ground.
A third creature lunged toward Shogo. Ryu reacted instinctively, stepping in front of him and swinging a hatchet in a clean arc. The blade bit into the creature’s skull, cleaving through tendon and bone. A spray of dust and blood coated the asphalt. Shogo froze for a split second, wide-eyed, before nodding his thanks.
A fourth creature charged. Mafuyu glided into position, katana swinging low. The blade severed the head cleanly. The body crumpled, slightly smaller than the first, missing its right forearm. Mafuyu paused for a brief moment, looking down thoughtfully at the creature — the missing limb, the twisted posture — and for an instant he saw not a monster but someone who had once been hurt, once been afraid, before the world had ended — a quiet acknowledgment of the life it had once had, even in this broken world.
Hiiragi finished the last with his bat, feeling the echo of impact reverberate through his forearms. Bone cracked with a dull, wet sound, the vibration traveling up into his shoulders.
The air filled with the coppery tang of blood and the sour rot of decay, dust drifting slowly back to the asphalt.
Ritsuka sneered at the line of corpses scattered along the path from the overpass.
Breathing slowed. Silence returned.
A moment later, footsteps approached from the trail.
Ugetsu clapped slowly as he emerged back into view.
“Acceptable,” he said.
Ritsuka flipped him off.
Ugetsu stepped past him without comment and paused beside Mafuyu, touching his shoulder lightly.
“Okay?”
Mafuyu nodded once. “I’m fine.”
Satisfied, Ugetsu withdrew his hand.
After a moment, Ritsuka slung his rifle back over his shoulder and looked at all of them.
“My sister expects us back at camp by tomorrow afternoon,” he said. “And we have a long way to go.”
Hiiragi nudged one of the daikon sacks with his foot.
“…We’re bringing those, right?”
Shogo looked horrified. “Obviously.”
Mafuyu wiped the blade clean and sheathed it.
Then he reached back, touching the guitar lightly — reassurance, habit, promise.
“We should go,” he said.
Shizusumi nodded once.
Mafuyu adjusted his scarf across his mouth. Hiiragi straightened and adjusted his goggles, casting a brief glance back behind them to scan the area. Ritsuka put on his Matsuda sunglasses, a gift from Mafuyu and Hiiragi before…
Shogo laid a hand gently on the back of Mafuyu’s head as he passed, a small gesture of reassurance. Ryu trailed after him, hatchet in one hand, the bag of daikon slung over his shoulder.
Together, the trio — Hiiragi, Ritsuka, and Mafuyu — started down the broken freeway after the others, toward home, footsteps falling into an easy rhythm beside the faint metallic chime of strings shifting against wood. Dust swirled in the air, caught by a stray breeze, and somewhere far off, a shriek echoed briefly, fading into the empty expanse — a fragile, stubborn thread of music weaving through the silence of the dead city, like a pulse that refused to stop, proof that something living still moved inside it.