"..."
Yuriko sensed her daughter's unease. She clasped Saya's hand and, lowering her own bearing before Zeroy, asked respectfully:
"Lady Zeroy, may I ask what Saya will have to do after going with you?"
She wasn't ungrateful, nor blind to reality.
But as a mother, she had to ask about her daughter's fate.
If it was something cruel, she would not stop it… for resistance before Zeroy's power was meaningless. Despite that, she would still find some way, without angering her, to ease her daughter's peril, even at the cost of herself.
"Nothing. It's just that for her and her friends, I have other plans."
Zeroy then turned toward the tense Saya, who seemed braced for the worst.
"Leaving you in this city is too dangerous. I'll send you somewhere safer."
"…?"
Saya froze.
She had thought she was to pay a price, prepared to endure anything. Though clearly, she had been mistaken.
Zeroy hadn't intended such things at all. She only meant to help them.
"Zeroy…"
"Hm?"
"I'm sorry…"
"Oh?"
Zeroy didn't really understand why Saya apologized, nor did she care. She hadn't taken to heart those desperate words Saya had said earlier—"I'll do anything."
However, she knew what Saya had misunderstood, and it wasn't hard to guess the direction of that mistake.
Clutching her mother's sleeve, Saya looked up at those emerald eyes, her voice cautious and pleading.
"Um… could Mom come too?"
"She can."
Zeroy's gaze shifted to the bloodied survivors who had fought beside Yuriko on the rooftop.
"But not them." Her tone was cold. "I don't trust them."
Yuriko paused, then nodded lightly, expression complicated.
"…I understand."
She didn't want to abandon her subordinates, but Zeroy's word was final. For her daughter's sake, she had no choice.
And though unwilling, her conscience was clear. In times both ordinary and desperate, she had never been the one protected—she had always been the one standing forward to protect others.
"Wait! What about Dad?"
Saya suddenly cried out, voice rising.
The joy of reunion, the shock of Zeroy's power—she had forgotten about her other parent.
She clutched her mother's arm, desperate. "Mom, where's Dad? Why haven't I seen him?"
Yuriko stiffened, her gaze sinking, lashes trembling. Meeting her daughter's anxious eyes felt like swallowing fire.
Grief flooded her face. She reached to touch her daughter's cheek, but her hand fell weakly halfway.
Her lips moved. The flames crackled, lighting the tears about to break. "Saya… your father, he…"
The words weren't needed. Saya understood.
"How… how could this…"
Her voice quavered, tears pooling. Her face drained pale beneath strands of pink hair. She staggered back, nearly falling on charred timber.
Just yesterday, she had heard her father's familiar voice over the phone.
Souichiro Takagi was dead.
A faction in the shelter had claimed zombies were merely sick, not monsters—deserving of pity and sympathy. They branded Souichiro a dictator, a madman, a murderer, and rose against him.
Souichiro wanted to cull them, but his hand was not ruthless enough, and it was too late.
Conflicts escalated. Finally, someone obtained zombie blood.
The corpses Zeroy slew still left behind infected flesh and blood.
When Souichiro led another suppression, a bowl of infected blood was thrown into his face.
Mouth, nose, eyes—those unguarded points left him no chance. Infection was inevitable.
And in the crowded chaos, he wasn't the only one splashed.
Worse still, some truly believed zombies were just ill, curable in hospitals. They willingly touched the blood themselves.
So the shelter fell. Souichiro perished in regret, cursing his own lack of extremity.
As he turned, he begged Yuriko to end it.
The missing bullet in her pistol—that had been for Souichiro.
"..."
Yuriko drew her broken daughter into her arms, fingers combing through her pink hair. She closed tearful eyes, choking back sobs.
The crackle of fire and whisper of wind framed their sorrowful embrace amid ruins.
At length, Saya lifted her head, tearful eyes turning to Zeroy.
"Zeroy…"
Her voice still trembled with sobs. "C-could I see Dad once more before leaving? Just one last time…"
"You may."
Zeroy's answer was brief and calm.
"Go. There are no zombies nearby. Not even inside the building."
"Thank you! Thank you!"
Saya seized her mother's hand.
"Mom, where is Dad now? Can I still see him?"
"…Saya."
Yuriko stroked her daughter's hair. Seeing the hope in her eyes was agony, hesitation, and heartache.
Souichiro's body might've stayed intact, but she couldn't bear for Saya to see him cold, lifeless—that frozen face, those eyes that would never again gaze gently at her.
Such a last sight would be too cruel.
"Mom, please…"
"…Come with me."
In the end, Yuriko could not deny her daughter's wish.
Ten minutes later, Yuriko returned, leading Saya, her head bowed in silence.
"Forgive the trouble, Lady Zeroy. We're ready now. We can depart anytime."
On the way back, she had given the remaining survivors a few final words.
"Mm. Then let's go."
...
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