It had been a week since the emergency broadcast went out nationwide.
Doctors, self-proclaimed "health gurus," and know-it-all influencers all rushed to give their two cents on the matter. But despite the flood of conspiracy talk spreading across the internet, there had been no official updates. The dire emergency that was abruptly broadcast in the middle of the night with no fanfare, was just it. A single, unexplained declaration.
Scientists and experts appeared on talk shows, panels, and evening news programs, yet none of them could provide concrete answers. In several cities, protests broke out as citizens demanded transparency from the government. Those demonstrations, however, were quickly "welcomed" by riot police and civil defense forces, who dispersed them with tear gas, batons, and some scuffles.
With little to no information to rely on, each city handled the situation differently, some enforced mask mandates, while others carried on as if no outbreak had ever happened.
In central Tokyo, the restrictions were among the harshest. Police checkpoints sprang up at major intersections; parks and nature reserves were patrolled daily. These measures should have reassured the public, but for Nobita and his friends, they had the opposite effect.
At the moment, Nobita was sitting at his PC, pretending to listen to Ms. Mami's online lecture. "Pretending" being the key word. With face-to-face classes suspended indefinitely, remote lessons had become the daily grind, and most of his classmates were already fed up with it.
The timing couldn't have been worse. They had just wrapped up midterms. Normally, this would've been the perfect chance to relax, hang out, and recharge. But thanks to a so-called "small" outbreak in some towns near Hachiōji, everything had been thrown off track.
Not that the situation even made sense. There is no official case of the disease reported in any of the cities. And even if there were… what were people supposed to be looking out for? No one had a clue. Yet here they all were, trapped in their dorm rooms, suffering through one dreary online lesson after another.
One hand texting Miki, the other twirling his pen, Nobita leaned back in his chair, legs crossed. For as much he liked Ms. Mami, these online classes were not doing it for him, they just feel so unbearably dull and isolating.
"Ah..."
Let's out a yawn, Nobita's gaze drifted toward the window, down to the streets below.
Empty. Pet dogs and cats, thrown out of homes, wandered the streets in greater numbers than people.
Strange, how a single announcement from the Ministry of Health could alter human behavior so quickly. And that was precisely what made it all the more concerning. Why was there still no follow-up? The longer the silence dragged on, the more it stoked panic.
"How's everyone doing? I know the circumstances are difficult right now, but remember, you're not alone. We're all in this together." Ms. Mami spoke with her arms placed on the table, her camera showed she was wearing her white buttoned-up collar shirt and red tie.
Her voice was gentle, though a trace of worry hid beneath her calm tone. She could see the fatigue in her students' eyes. This is not what they signed up for. They are supposed to enjoy their school years surrounded by classmates and friends, now they are confined to their dorms, a prisoner in their own homes.
"Okay Miss." Came the flat, half-hearted response.
She sighed softly, then pressed on. "Make sure you stock up on supplies, just in case. Things might improve… or they might get worse."
Here it is, the same old, same old vague advice, nothing new. Everyone had already heard the same warnings a hundred times, with no real guidance to follow.
Nobita, for his part, still hadn't gone shopping. His mother, predictably overanxious, had sent him a generous sum of money for emergencies, but he hadn't touched it yet. He knew he'd need to act responsibly sooner or later. Takeout meals, fried rice and instant noodles couldn't sustain him forever. Even Fuuko had started to gag at the smell of cup ramen, how much worse was it for the one actually eating them?
"Miss, do you… know what's really happening?"
The question came hesitantly from Sunemi, one of the school's "popular" girls, her arms wrapped around a small Persian cat. For once, her usual confident facade had cracked, exposing a rare flicker of unease.
"It started with classes being suspended, then suddenly an emergency broadcast about an outbreak. T-This isn't as bad as it sounds… right? So why hasn't there been any more information?"
Sunemi was known not just for her wealthy background but also for her... Um personality? In Eri and Miki's terms... A two-faced bitch. Friendly on the outside, but deep down, she is a manipulative, spoiled princess who is used to things going her own way. Hardly surprising, considering her father was both the President of the PTA and the CEO of a major corporation. That being said, Nobita had never interacted with her enough to truly despise her.
At least right now, she didn't seem all that insufferable.
Pressing her fingers against her temple, Ms. Mami exhaled. Her composure held, but fatigue seeped through. "I wish I had an answer. Truth is, I don't know any more than you do. I've asked other teachers, and they're just as in the dark. For now, please, stay in touch with each other. And be careful if you notice any strange behavior in animals or pets."
The signs varied, low growls, eerie staring, sluggish movement, sudden shrieks, even violent stomping. Those who are well studied in animal might recognize them at once, but for ordinary people, it wasn't so obvious. That ignorance, in turn, fueled a disturbing wave of animal persecution.
Videos of people driving pets out of their homes, even destroying nests, spread like wildfire online. It was horrifying, but in the midst of paranoia, and with the government's silence looming over them, survival instincts had begun to warp into cruelty.
Misinformation flourished. Fear consumed social media. A bleak sight indeed.
"Yes Miss." The class murmured.
Mami sighed, what little comfort she could offer to her student is just not enough.
"Ok, let's continue. Please turn on your webcams so I know you're still here. I have something important to share. Truth to be told, all academic activities have been officially suspended since last week."
Blinking in confusion, the students processed her words a beat late. Their bewildered faces almost made her smile.
"Huh? Then why are we still having this class?"
"This is just a private session with me. Now, now, don't log off yet, all right? I wanted to keep you informed, I'm really worried about this outbreak and I want you prepared for the worst."
The students exchanged weary glances and shrugs. They had nothing better to do anyway. Whether final exam would even take place this year was anyone's guess. Normally, such an extended break would mean day trips across Tokyo, maybe even weekends in Yokohama or Kyoto. But with travel restrictions tightening and unease mounting, those plans now felt impossibly distant.
"A free lecture with Ms. Mami? What could be better?" Kenichi's playful remark earned a ripple of laughter across the class.
She chuckled softly. "Thank you. Now, are all of you at home?"
The chat box filled with affirmatives. She nodded, relieved.
"Good. Then I'd like you to do something for me. Go to your windows, look outside. Tell me what you see."
The sudden request startled them into silence. A few hesitated, then slowly rose and shuffled to their windows.
Tokyo's once-bustling streets were nearly empty.
No crowded sidewalks. No lines of cars honking through rush hour. Only police, delivery workers, bus drivers, and stray pets wandering where people once had.
The change was jarring. Just last week, the city had seemed normal. Now it looked as though it were closing down.
"The streets are deserted… more dogs and cats than people…"
"Almost no cars? No traffic jams?"
"And… so many police?"
"Exactly. That means the state-wide emergency has already begun." Ms. Mami's expression hardened. Her cool and calm exterior was met with the sharp deep black eyes that glistened in dominance and authority.
The sudden statement from her drew a myriad of shocked expressions. Students who had been slouched in boredom now bolted upright. Shock rippled through their faces. Even those who weren't paying attention to class earlier, quickly switched their tab back to the online class meeting.
Seeing she finally had their full attention, Mami laced her fingers together, resting her chin on them, her gaze unwavering.
"W-Wait, what?!"
"What do you mean miss!?"
"A state-wide emergency ? But I thought it was just about avoiding animals?!"
The chat exploded into frantic questions. Where was this level of interaction and excitement when she asked them if they had questions about the topics and syllabus? Still, the situation was serious, there's no time for sarcasm. Mami remained composed, patiently waiting for the noise to die down.
Only then did she continue. "In times of disaster, what matters most is what they don't tell us."
Everyone sat in silence, waiting for her next word.
"The education ministry has eerily been silent on this, at a time when communication is key. Children and teachers' lives are at risk, yet they still keep all of us in the dark. That isn't a good sign. If this were just a minor outbreak, why would armed forces be deployed in the city? You've all sensed something's off, haven't you?"
Nobita blinked, surprised. She had just voiced the very suspicions he and his friends had been talking about. The government couldn't simply announce "there's an outbreak, good luck," and vanish.
"Wild animal attacks and a viral outbreak in the community, they have to be connected." Eri muttered. She was absolutely certain that the incidents at Mount Takao were tied to this.
The group had spent days combing through articles, forums, and obscure reports. Yet all references to the virus or outbreak seemed to vanish, erased. Instead, headlines were flooded with arrests for "inciting panic" and "spreading false rumors." The government appeared more intent on silencing speculation than on updating the public.
"It could be. Keep following the news, but don't be misled by false information. Fear and scarcity of facts drive people to believe anything they find, credible or not. This is what we call the Risk Information Seeking and Processing model. Always cross-check sources when you come across news about the outbreak or attacks, just like what you would do when doing research for your assignments..."
Her lecture was cut short when a quiet student suddenly unmuted his mic.
"Miss, a live broadcast is about to start!"
Mami's eyes narrowed. Finally, the government was going to speak.
"All right, let's watch it together. I'll share my screen."
She opened the official portal just in time. The broadcast would begin in a matter of minutes.
Though her stomach twisted with dread, Mami made sure not to let a trace of it show. Not in front of her students.