The city was hollowing out. Buildings that once hummed with the rhythm of daily life now stood as silent monoliths, their windows dark, their streets empty save for the occasional scurrying of animals reciming the nd. The departure had been slow at first—families packing up in the dead of night, cars loaded down with supplies, their tires whispering farewell against the cracked asphalt. Then came the caravans, long lines of battered vehicles crawling toward the countryside, toward any pce that promised something other than uncertainty and death.

  Yuzu stood at the intersection of two abandoned streets, hands stuffed in the pockets of her jacket, ponytail swaying slightly in the breeze. The air smelled stale, like dust and exhaust that had nowhere to go. Weeds pushed up through cracks in the pavement, an unspoken promise that nature would recim everything in time. Storefronts stood frozen in time, mannequins draped in outdated fashions staring blindly through shattered gss. A fallen traffic light blinked zily on its side, casting a weak, flickering glow onto the pavement, as if trying to keep up the illusion that the city was still alive.

  Most of her friends had already left. The group chats had gone quiet one by one, turning into digital graveyards of half-written pns and unfulfilled promises. Some had left messages before disappearing—short, clipped goodbyes that barely masked the desperation beneath. Others had vanished without a word, their read receipts the only proof they had once been there at all.

  Rina was still around, but even she spoke about leaving more and more often. "It’s stupid to stay here," she had said just the night before, picking at the bel on an empty bottle of tea. "What’s left for us? Scavenging? Waiting? Just hoping we don’t starve before the world ends?"

  Yuzu hadn’t responded. What was there to say? That she didn’t know where else to go? That moving felt like admitting defeat, like letting go of the st fragile tether to normalcy? That even in its dying state, the city still felt more like home than any nameless stretch of road leading to nowhere—more familiar than empty highways lined with abandoned cars, or the hollow remains of towns that had already given up?

  She exhaled, her breath curling in the cool afternoon air. A newspaper tumbled past her feet, its pages yellowed and torn. The headlines from months ago screamed about disaster, as if the world hadn’t already made up its mind. Yuzu scuffed her shoe against the pavement, watching as the paper skittered away like a ghost with nowhere left to haunt.

  In the distance, the distant sound of an engine rumbled through the hollow streets, a lone vehicle carving its way through the silence. The low growl of its departure lingered, reverberating off the empty buildings like a ghost refusing to leave. Another traveler heading for the outskirts, another thread unraveling from what little remained. Yuzu squinted against the setting sun, watching the taillights shrink into the horizon. She wondered how long it would take for the city to truly be empty—for every echo of life to be swallowed by the quiet. For her to be the st one left, a lone spectator to the final act of a city in slow decay.

  She kicked a loose rock down the street and turned on her heel. Maybe it was time to decide.

  "Ah, isn't it Miss Yuzu!" called a familiar voice, warm yet slightly weary. A mature woman in her 30s waved from down the street, her neatly kept casual outfit standing in contrast to the surrounding decay. She looked different from the st time Yuzu had seen her a few weeks ago, perhaps a little thinner, a little more tired, but still holding herself with an air of quiet resilience. "Thank you for helping Hana," she added, stepping closer, her expression a mixture of gratitude and relief.

  "Ah, no. It was nothing," Yuzu said, rubbing the back of her neck, her voice slightly awkward. "Hana’s a tough kid. She probably didn’t even need my help." She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, gncing at the cracked pavement as if it held the right words for her to say.

  Yuzu remembered that she as the mother of the little girl, Hana, the child she had found wandering alone not too long ago, lost and frightened in the crumbling city.

  "Are you single?" the mom asked with a teasing grin, nudging Yuzu lightly with her elbow. "We could be a team, you know. Survival partners. What do you say?"

  "Um... no thanks," I answered, scratching my cheek awkwardly. "I think I'd be a terrible survival partner anyway. I'm pretty sure I'd trip over my own feet before a real danger even got to me."

  "Yeah, guess it's not like a zombie apocalypse or anything. Shame, though. You'd probably be the comic relief character who survives out of sheer dumb luck." She sighed dramatically, pcing a hand on her hip. The woman extended a hand, her grip firm but warm. "I'm Asuka, by the way. Guess we never properly introduced ourselves despite all the chaos."

  Yuzu took her hand with a small nod, her fingers slightly cold from the evening air. "Yuzu, though you already know that. Not that it really matters these days, huh? Names don't hold much weight when everything’s falling apart."

  Asuka chuckled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "True. But I still like knowing who I’m talking to. Makes things feel a little less… temporary."

  "Are you not moving out from the city, Miss Asuka?" Yuzu asked, tilting her head slightly. "I mean, not to be rude, but I thought all the cool people already left. You're kind of ruining the aesthetic of an abandoned city here."

  Asuka chuckled, shaking her head as she crossed her arms. "Well, someone has to stick around to make sure the stray cats don’t take over entirely. Besides, leaving takes effort. I'm not really a 'caravan to the unknown' type."

  Yuzu watched her awkwardly smile, her lips pulling into a half-hearted curve as if unsure whether to commit to the expression. There was a flicker of amusement in her eyes, but it was dulled by exhaustion, the kind that settled deep into a person’s bones after weeks of uncertainty. Asuka shifted her weight, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, her fingers lingering for a moment as if lost in thought before dropping back to her side.

  "Want to be at my pce?" she asked, raising an eyebrow with an exaggeratedly casual tone. "For safety, of course. I have food, water, and probably the st functioning kettle in the city."

  Yuzu snorted, crossing her arms. "I'm sorry, I already have a girlfriend."

  Asuka pced a hand over her chest in mock heartbreak. "Tragic. Rejected in the apocalypse. At least let me down gently."

  "Fine. You're a wonderful woman, Asuka, but my heart belongs to instant noodles and self-pity."

  "Understandable. Those are tough competition."

  As they walked towards Asuka's house, their footsteps echoed against the hollow streets, the silence only broken by the distant rustling of wind through abandoned alleyways. Yuzu kicked a stray can, watching as it cttered against the pavement before rolling into the gutter. Asuka, hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket, gnced sideways at her with a smirk. "So, are you actually going to accept my hospitality, or are you just tagging along to criticize my cooking?" she teased.

  Yuzu rolled her eyes. "If it's anything like your flirting, I’m sure it’s questionable at best."

  Asuka gasped in exaggerated offense. "You wound me, Yuzu."

  The tension of the deserted city seemed to fade, if only for a moment, as they continued their way toward the dimly lit doorway ahead. The glow from inside cast long, flickering shadows on the pavement, stretching toward them like silent specters. Yuzu adjusted her ponytail, gncing sideways at Asuka, who hummed a quiet tune under her breath, the sound oddly comforting against the stillness of the empty streets. Somewhere in the distance, a rusted sign creaked in the wind, but for now, this little pocket of warmth ahead felt like a temporary escape from the creeping void of the abandoned city.

  As they stepped closer, the dull glow of a streetmp flickered overhead, struggling to hold onto its st threads of life. The air carried the faint scent of rust and damp concrete, a reminder of the city's slow decay. A stray cat darted past them, vanishing into the shadows as if it too were fleeing from the emptiness that surrounded them. In the distance, the hushed whisper of the wind wove through the hollow buildings, filling the silence with a ghostly presence.

  They arrived, stopping just outside Asuka's door. Yuzu hesitated, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as Asuka fished out her keys. The building, though worn from time and neglect, still stood firm, its wooden exterior marked with faint traces of past maintenance. The small porch light flickered weakly, casting uneven shadows across the threshold. Yuzu exhaled, gncing down the empty street one st time before stepping inside, leaving the abandoned city behind—at least for tonight.

  "Mom!" a small, high-pitched voice called from inside, brimming with excitement and urgency.

  Bonk! A hollow thud echoed through the room, followed by a small yelp. Yuzu peeked inside just in time to see Asuka lowering her hand, having just delivered a light bop to her daughter’s head. "What did I tell you? Prepare a weapon just in case a bad guy breaks in!" Asuka’s voice rang out, a mix of exasperation and stifled ughter.

  Hana, the tiny girl now clutching a pstic toy hammer with both hands, blinked up at her mother in stunned silence before puffing out her chubby cheeks in renewed determination. Her big, round eyes darted between Asuka and the supposed 'intruder,' brows furrowed in the way only a serious child could manage. Her dark hair was tied into two stubby, slightly uneven pigtails, bobbing as she shifted her weight, still processing her mother’s unexpected bonk from Asuka, her hand nding lightly on Hana’s head in a mix of pyful reprimand and genuine lesson.

  Hana retaliated immediately, swinging her toy hammer with the unyielding determination of a knight defending her castle.

  Asuka stood beside her, rubbing a sore spot on her head where the hammer had made impact. "Ow," she muttered ftly, shooting the child a look of feigned betrayal.

  "Not me, Hana. The intruder. You hit the intruder," Asuka corrected, still massaging her temple.

  Hana blinked up at her mother, then slowly turned her gaze toward Yuzu. She squinted, gripping her hammer tighter, assessing Yuzu with all the gravitas of a seasoned security guard at a top-secret facility. "Is she an intruder?"

  Yuzu, taking no chances, raised her hands in immediate surrender. "Whoa there, kid. I come in peace."

  Hana’s expression didn't budge. "That’s exactly what an intruder would say," she decred, tone heavy with suspicion.

  Asuka sighed, shaking her head. "Hana, I swear, if you hit our guest, I’m confiscating that hammer."

  Hana pouted, but after a moment of intense scrutiny, she lowered her weapon—though not without a warning gre, as if to say: 'I'm watching you.'

  Yuzu awkwardly ughed, rubbing the back of her neck, unsure whether she had passed Hana’s test or merely been spared.

  Hana immediately erased her pout, her suspicious gaze vanishing as if it had never been there. She grinned widely and dashed forward, wrapping her small arms around Yuzu’s waist in an enthusiastic hug. "Welcome, Yuzu!" she chirped, her earlier wariness repced with complete trust.

  Yuzu blinked in surprise before hesitantly patting Hana’s head, shooting a sideways gnce at Asuka. "Uh… does this mean I’m officially not an intruder?"

  Asuka smirked, arms crossed. "For now. But keep an eye out—Hana’s still got a backup weapon hidden somewhere."

  Yuzu reflexively smiled, a rare moment of warmth settling in her chest. It had been four long months since the first news about Orpheus had shattered the world, filling every waking moment with an underlying hum of anxiety. But in this small, fleeting moment, surrounded by Asuka’s pyful banter and Hana’s infectious energy, she let herself forget, just for a second, as if the world outside hadn’t already begun to crumble.