Yuzu had seen riots before. On TV, in history books, in exaggerated disaster movies but never outside her window. Never close enough to hear the raw desperation in people’s voices, the panic ced with something primal, something untamed. The shattering gss rang out like gunfire, sharp and jarring against the night air. Sirens howled in the distance, their wails overpping, relentless, as if the city itself was sobbing.

  The acrid scent of smoke and burning rubber seeped through the cracks of her window, mixing with the stale air of her tiny apartment, making it hard to breathe. The faint metallic tang of blood lingered in the air, though she wasn’t sure where it was coming from. Even with the curtains drawn, the chaotic fshes of fire and neon lights still flickered through the fabric, painting jagged shadows along her walls.

  A heavy thud from a few floors below, maybe a dumpster getting overturned, or maybe something worse. Distant screams rose and fell, blending with the deep hum of a helicopter circling overhead. She could hear the muffled voice of someone shouting orders through a megaphone, but whether it was w enforcement or a desperate civilian trying to restore order, she couldn't tell. The world outside was coming apart, piece by piece, and she was trapped inside, watching it all unfold.

  She sat frozen in her cramped apartment, the glow of her ptop screen forgotten as the real world finally became louder than the doom scrolling. The neon lights outside flickered erratically, half of them broken, casting eerie, fractured glows across the chaotic streets below. A car burned at the intersection. She wasn’t sure how it had even caught fire. Was it intentional? An accident? Either way, it didn’t matter. Nothing made sense anymore.

  A week ago, people were debating whether Orpheus was even real. Now, they were smashing store windows for supplies, setting offices on fire, and looting convenience stores like instant ramen and bottled water were the new gold standard of survival. Stray papers and discarded packaging littered the streets, kicked up by the frantic movement of the mob. A man ran past holding an entire rice cooker, cord dragging behind him, while another stuffed his arms full of energy drinks as if caffeine could save him from impending doom. The city’s descent into madness was no longer theoretical, it was happening, right here, right now.

  Her phone buzzed violently on her desk, snapping her out of her daze. Ryo calling...

  She scrambled to pick it up. "Ryo?!"

  "Stay inside," Ryo’s voice was tight, breathless. "I mean it. Lock your doors, shut your windows, don’t even think about stepping outside. It’s getting worse."

  "I can see that!" she hissed, ducking instinctively as a bottle crashed against the pavement below. The mob outside was growing. People shoving, screaming, running in every direction. Some were trying to escape, others were taking advantage of the mayhem. "Where are you? Are you safe?"

  "Trying to be," Ryo muttered. There was static in the background, muffled shouting. "I’m at my cousin’s pce. Barely made it here. People have lost it, Yuzu. Some guy tried to sell me a baseball bat for half a million yen. Another guy said we should start worshiping Orpheus as a god. It’s a mess."

  Yuzu pressed a hand against her forehead, trying to steady her breathing. This wasn’t happening. Or maybe it was. She had spent so long doom scrolling, obsessing over theories, trying to convince herself there was still hope. But hope was in short supply when the streets outside looked like the opening scene of a dystopian RPG.

  Outside, a group of teenagers sprinted past her building, their backpacks stuffed with stolen goods. One of them tripped, spilling canned food all over the pavement. Within seconds, three other people pounced, scrambling to grab whatever they could before vanishing into the chaos.

  Tokyo had turned into a warzone overnight. The once-bustling streets, normally alive with the chatter of te-night workers, the hum of vending machines, and the distant jingles of convenience stores, were now filled with the deafening sounds of sirens, shattering gss, and desperate screams. Billboards that had once advertised idol concerts and luxury watches flickered erratically, some reduced to mere sparks as electrical surges rippled through the overworked grid. The scent of grilled food from the ever-present street stalls had been repced by the acrid stench of smoke and burning debris. The city, usually so orderly, so meticulously maintained, had unraveled into pure chaos.

  "Yuzu," Ryo said, snapping her attention back to the phone, "tell me you locked your door."

  She stood up so fast her chair nearly toppled over, her pulse spiking like a fire arm in her chest. She hadn’t locked it. Her front door was still unlocked, slightly ajar from when she had thrown out her trash earlier, the dim hallway light casting a thin, eerie sliver of yellow across the floor. A cold dread crept up her spine as she stared at the gap, half-expecting someone, something, to push it open from the other side.

  Heart hammering, she sprinted to the door, smming it shut so hard the frame rattled, her fingers fumbling over the lock like she had forgotten how to use it. Her breath came in short, panicked gasps as she twisted the deadbolt with shaky hands, double-checking, then triple-checking, before pressing her forehead against the cool wood. Outside, the chaos raged on, but inside, all she could hear was the wild pounding of her own heartbeat.

  "Done," she breathed. "Windows too. Curtains drawn. Officially in paranoid shut-in mode."

  Ryo exhaled, but it was barely relieved. "Good. Just stay put. The government’s trying to get things under control, but…"

  Yuzu peeked through the curtains. A police van had arrived at the intersection, but instead of restoring order, it only poured gasoline on the already raging dumpster fire that was the city. The crowd, already one bad decision away from a full-blown riot, turned on the officers with terrifying speed. Someone hurled a Molotov cocktail, and Yuzu watched as the bottle spun through the air in slow motion, like a terrible Olympic event no one wanted to see.

  It shattered against the van, fmes erupting instantly, licking hungrily at the metal like it was an all-you-can-eat buffet. The officers scrambled back, riot shields about as effective as umbrels in a hurricane. Sirens bred, swallowed by the chorus of enraged screams, gss shattering, and somewhere in the distance what suspiciously sounded like someone smashing a vending machine. Society wasn’t just unraveling in real-time; it was speedrunning its own colpse.

  "Yeah," she whispered, "not looking great on that front."

  "What about your family?" Ryo asked, his voice quieter now, more careful, as if afraid the question itself might break her.

  Yuzu hesitated, gripping the phone tighter. "They're back home... safe, I think. Or at least safer than here." Her voice wavered, betraying the uncertainty cwing at her chest. "I talked to my mom a few days ago. She said people were tense, but it wasn't like this." She gestured vaguely at the chaos outside, even though Ryo couldn’t see it. "Their vilge is so small, barely even on the map. No train station, no convenience stores. Just rice fields, old houses, and a single school that doubles as a community center. Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe no one cares enough to bring chaos there. I keep telling myself they’ll be fine, but... I don’t know, Ryo. What if I never see them again?"

  Ryo was quiet for a moment before he sighed. "You will. You’re going to see them again. Maybe not soon, maybe not the way you want, but this isn’t the end, Yuzu. It can’t be." His voice softened, reassuring but firm. "Your mom’s tough. Your whole family is. If anyone can hold out until things settle, it’s them. And you."

  Her legs gave out, and she sank to the floor, clutching the phone to her ear. Her fingers dug into the fabric of her sweater, twisting and pulling at the loose threads as if unraveling them would somehow keep her from unraveling too. "Ryo, what if this doesn’t get better?" Her voice cracked, barely above a whisper. "What if it just gets worse?" Her gaze flickered to the curtained window, as if expecting the outside world to answer her with another explosion, another scream, another undeniable sign that everything was falling apart.

  Silence. Then, a small, humorless chuckle. "Then I hope you like being an indoor cat, Yuzu. Because outside isn’t an option anymore."

  She squeezed her eyes shut, pressing the heels of her hands against them as if she could block out reality itself. Everything she had known. Her routine, her campus, the city she had grown up in was unraveling before her eyes. The streets that had once been filled with the rhythmic sounds of everyday life were now a cacophony of screams, sirens, and destruction.

  People were breaking, their fear twisting into violence, desperation spilling out like a dam finally shattered. Society was crumbling, piece by piece, and she was just one insignificant person caught in the flood. She pulled her knees to her chest, her oversized sweater bunching up around her, and bit down on her lip hard enough to sting. She had never felt smaller, more powerless, in her life.

  "I don't know what to do," she admitted.

  Another pause. Then, Ryo's voice, steady despite everything: "Survive. One day at a time. That’s all we can do."

  Yuzu swallowed, gripping the phone tighter for a moment before exhaling sharply. "Ryo, I... I need to—" Her voice caught in her throat. She shook her head, as if he could see it, then forced herself to take a breath. "I'll call you ter. Just... stay safe." Before Ryo could respond, she hung up.

  Yuzu curled up against the door, listening to the distant chaos, and clung to those words like a lifeline. She slowly reached for the half-empty cup of instant ramen on her desk, the broth long gone cold, but she didn't care. Mechanically, she slurped up a noodle, the action grounding her for just a moment in something normal, something familiar. Her fingers tapped absently against the wood of her desk, a nervous rhythm she didn’t even realize she was keeping.

  The room was a disaster zone, papers strewn everywhere from when she had knocked over a textbook earlier, her ptop buried somewhere under the mess. An empty coffee can y on its side, a dried-out stain on the desk the only evidence of its former contents. A pile of undry, some clean, some questionably so, sat untouched in the corner. Her oversized sweater was wrinkled and stretched from days of wear, the sleeves loose around her fingers.

  She hadn't showered in... how long now? Two days? Three? Her long bck hair, usually tied back, was a tangled mess, half-heartedly shoved into a ponytail but now mostly falling out in wild strands. The faint smell of dry shampoo mixed with the stale air of her apartment, and she made a mental note, again, to wash up. Eventually.

  Her backpack sat slumped in the corner, half-zipped, looking as indecisive as she felt. She must have packed it at some point, half-heartedly thinking she might leave, but then just... never followed through. The straps were twisted, one side drooping like a defeated soldier, and a crumpled energy bar wrapper peeked out from the opening. She stared at it, rubbing her temples before exhaling. One day at a time. That’s all we can do, she thought, but even those words felt like they were unraveling at the edges.

  Outside, the city continued its descent into chaos. Bloodcurdling screams echoed through the streets, mixed with the distant sound of gss shattering and someone, why was there always someone furiously banging on a metal trash can like it was a drum set. "THE END IS NIGH!" a man wailed from somewhere below her apartment, his voice cracking mid-sentence. "REPENT OR—" a loud crash cut him off, followed by an irritated voice yelling, "SHUT UP, YAMADA! WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE ANYWAY!"

  Yuzu let out a dry ugh, rubbing her temple. "Yep. Everything's normal."