The hatch opened with a tallic groan, revealing rusted stairs that spiraled into shadow.
"This used to be a civilian shelter," Godou-sensei muttered, her flashlight beam sweeping across cracked walls and signs marked 'Civil Defense: Level C-2.'
The air was stale. Cold.
And quiet.
Too quiet.
They descended slowly — Kanata leading, Serizawa close behind, her hand never leaving the hilt of her bat.
The deeper they went, the more signs they saw — faint ssages scrawled on the walls in chalk or marker:
> "WE WAITED FOR HELP."
> "DON'T GO LOWER."
> "THEY CA BACK WRONG."
A chill ran down Kanata's spine.
---
Bunkroom — Underground Shelter
They found it two levels down: a room filled with old bunk beds, shelves of ergency supplies picked clean, and one working ergency light powered by a backup solar panel.
Kanami let out a sigh of relief. "Finally... sowhere we can rest."
Godou tested the doors, then nodded. "We'll rotate watch. One night here."
Kanata moved to an abandoned desk. That's where he saw it — folded paper weighed down by a cracked coffee mug.
His breath caught.
The handwriting.
It was Yuka's.
> "Kanata. If you find this, don't trust Shinjuku Base. The Black Flags aren't saviors. They're scavengers with uniforms. I saw what they did. What they're doing. They're rounding up the immune. We're test subjects to them."
> "I'm going north. To where the sky burns. If you're alive... find . But don't go unprepared."
He held the note in shaking hands. His sister. She'd been here. Recently.
"Yuka..."
---
Storage Hall – Lower Level
As they explored deeper, strange sounds echoed from the lower vents.
A whisper. A dragging chain. Then silence.
"What the hell was that?" Kanami whispered, grabbing Kanata's arm.
Takiya narrowed her eyes. "Doesn't sound like infected."
"No," Godou muttered. "It doesn't."
They sealed the lower hatch and rigged a tripwire trap with spare flares. Whatever was down there, it would have to wait.
Kanata stood at the door, eyes scanning the dark hallway.
Serizawa stepped up beside him.
"We're going after her, aren't we?" she asked.
"...Yeah," he whispered. "One way or another."
---
Ecchi Mont — Bunkroom, Midnight
The small room had only one proper bed — musty, but clean.
"Rock-paper-scissors," Kanami said with a grin. "Winner gets middle."
To Kanata's misfortune (or luck), he lost.
Now, in the dead of night, he lay squeezed between Serizawa and Takiya.
Kanami curled up at his feet like a smug cat, hugging a spare blanket. Godou-sensei leaned against his shoulder on a chair beside the bed, her head tipped forward in exhausted slumber.
Kanata tried not to move. Or breathe.
And then... soone did move.
A soft hand splayed across his chest — fingers curling instinctively.
Another hand touched his side. Warr. Slower.
He turned his head, heart pounding.
Takiya was facing him, barely awake, breathing softly against his neck.
Then Serizawa shifted — her leg sliding over his, arm across his stomach, her face burying in his collarbone.
"...Kanata..." she mumbled.
His brain nearly exploded.
"I'm gonna die," he mouthed silently.
Godou stirred, her hand brushing his thigh as she adjusted.
Kanami, eyes definitely open, whispered without lifting her head:
"Heh. Lucky bastard."
---
Emotional Beat — Shelter Desk
Unable to sleep, Kanata slipped away and sat back at the desk.
He held Yuka's note again, reading it for the fifth ti. It was smudged. Weathered. But real.
His sister was alive.
She was scared.
But she'd kept moving.
Kanata stared at the flickering light above him, then whispered:
> "I'm coming. I don't know who I'll be when I get there... but I'm coming."
He folded the note gently, and tucked it close to his heart.
---
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