FIC FOR SUGIEX part 1
For: sugiex
From: yumemirunosekai
Title: Post Tenebras, Lux (Part 1)
Pairings/Characters: Kamenashi Kazuya/Ueda Tatsuya (main), Taguchi Junnosuke, Tanaka Koki, Toda Erika (side)
Rating: NC 17+
Warnings: blood, violence, gore, angst, AU, sci-fi
Notes: My first attempt at an AU/sci-fi fic. This a KAT-TUN gen fic with a side of KameDa. The personality I chose for Kame is Shuuji's real personality (the one that surfaces when he's with Akira, all prickly and whatnot) I have to emphasise that I tried to make this fic as close to reality as possible, in favour of my recipient, so expect less fluff and more… well. Reality.
Summary: Post Tenebras, Lux. ‘From Darkness, Light.’ The Red Plague has wiped out almost half the world’s population. Kame is a typical high school student who wants the easy way out of things, choosing to live in his own little world and ignore reality. When the lockdown sequence begins, he is thrown into another world where humans are animals, and killing seems to become a second nature. This is not a story of adventure, but reality.
part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4 || part 5
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favour fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
- Robert Frost (Fire and Ice)
Phase 0: Lucifer [prologue]
"You sneeze on me once more…"
Kame leaves his threat hanging, and shoots the smiling idiot next to him what he assumes passes for a menacing glare. His fingers clamp down on his pencil and he resists the urge to fling it across the room.
Taguchi looks sheepishly at Kame, who cringes at the sight of snot hanging out of his nose. "Cut it out," he hisses. "That's gross."
It's not his fault germs freak him out. Because Kame just can't comprehend the minds of simple-minded humans, who think that cafeteria food is of a reasonable sanitary level to be considered edible. He shivers in his seat.
"Sorry, Kame-chan,” Taguchi attempts a half-hearted apology. He knows of Kame's tendency to be prickly, and yet he doesn't mind being friends with the only kid in school who carries jumbo-sized boxes of wet-wipes in his bag.
"You should really see a doctor." says Kame, and turns back to face the blackboard. "You've been like that since last week."
Taguchi nods sheepishly, and ducks back down to his books filled with scribbles of numbers and symbols that Kame is certain makes almost no sense to the boy. Taguchi never did get algebra. So Kame, being the saint he is, always tutors him whenever he gets too stuck.
When he transferred to this school, he knew it was low standard even before his first class. The guys dress like delinquents out of stupid shounen manga, and the girls don't seem to understand that undergarments should be worn under their garments.
If he weren’t in his right mind, Kame would think that perhaps the world had been taken over by a colony of infants with the ability to shape shift. Kame blames his dad wholeheartedly for accepting the work offer in Inaba.
Regardless, Kame knows why his dad had to get out of Tokyo. He grunts and rests his chin in one hand, eyes drifting aimlessly out the window.
The mass shutdown of hundreds of companies was something he expected, seeing that the Red Plague had spread throughout the main cities, slowly creeping across Japan like some fucked-up zombie disease.
It is considered amazing that the schools in Inaba are still up and running. Even so, Kame knows that this is just the calm before the storm. He wonders how far they can run before the plague catches up.
Nothing much is known about it, just that it began one day when some random salaryman dropped dead in the middle of Tokyo Train Station. Then the days followed on with more and more people dropping dead like flies. There had been nothing wrong with them, just a reported slight fever and cough.
Kame never really paid much attention to it. Not even when scientists came out with a name for it. Red Plague. How cliché, Kame had thought. Every news channel throughout Japan were being fed reports solely on the Red Plague and how fast it spreads. So much so that his ears were beginning to ring with the incessant echoes of high-pitched anchorwomen's voices screeching out death toll reports day in and day out.
"Ne, Kame?" Taguchi says, and he prods Kame with the tip of his pencil. "Did you watch the news this morning?"
Kame waves Taguchi away. He no longer watches the news. Why would he when all there is to see were more reported deaths or failed attempts to synthesise a cure for this stupid plague? Everything is just completely pointless. Not to mention hopeless.
"Don't you wanna know how things are progressing? It's not good to remain oblivious~" says Taguchi in a singsong voice as he continues to jab incessantly at Kame's ribs with the tip of his pencil.
Taguchi smiles too much, Kame decides. Trying and failing to ignore the prodding and poking at his side he wonders when was the last time he'd seen Taguchi frown. Kame likes Taguchi, even though he can be annoying some - scratch that, most of the time. He's a least aware of what's going on around him, unlike Kame, who prefers to remain unknowing and safe. It is hard to explain to someone like Taguchi why he didn't like to face reality because the latter was just the embodiment of naivety, all smiles and carefree grins because he believes that things will be okay. Everything will be okay eventually, that's why he likes to keep up with the news, hanging onto the anchorwoman's every word, desperately hoping for some good news to trickle through.
Taguchi's just scared, like everyone else.
He really puts too much faith in the government.
Despite everything, Kame believes that Taguchi isn't what he seems. His words were occasionally deep and strangely sensible which betrayed the goofy smile forever etched onto his face. But then again, the latter was just too airy to fully grasp the underlying messages behind certain situations.
For Kame, the plague was nothing but an insignificant bother in his life. He chooses not to think, because thinking hurt his brain too much, and he doesn't want to see other than what is laid out before him.
Kame likes to think that things would be okay, and he wishes that he can think like Taguchi does, but he can't because that would mean that he was scared as well, and Kame just isn't, or so he likes to think.
Staying in the dark is safest. Because what you don't know, you can't possibly be afraid of.
///
"Please remember to wear the government issued masks at all times while in public. As it is still unknown whether the Red Plague is airborne, please remain at ease. Updates will be frequently broadcasted to every radio and television station throughout Japan, please stay tuned and have a nice day.”
Kamenashi wonders if Taguchi would kill him if he threw his PSP out the window. "Will you shut the damn thing up?" snaps Kame, and he snatches the oblong device from Taguchi's hands and jams his thumb onto the shut down button. It's lunchtime, and he should be lying on the grass outside watching the clouds, but no, Taguchi has to insist he listens to the news with him.
“Have a nice day,” repeats Kame in a low, mocking tone. "Don't fuck with me."
Taguchi just grins and gently coaxes his PSP out of Kame's death grip. "Relax, Kame-chan. They are just trying to be normal. What would the world become without the normalcy that is provided by the wonderful news reporters that we love so dear?" he tilts his head to one side and puts on a face that makes the hairs on Kame's body crawl.
This is the fourth floor, Kame thinks. Throwing Taguchi off it along with his PSP will certainly make sure they both shut up for good.
"By the way," Taguchi pipes up, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Where is your mask? If Sawatari-sensei catches you without it he'll probably have you hauled off to the hospital. He's paranoid that way."
"I could say the same for you,” Kame says blandly, eyeing Taguchi's bare face, grin and all. His eyes slide back to Taguchi's black PSP, the latter's love of his life.
"Hey, don't you think the government is being kinda shifty about all this?" says Kame suddenly.
Taguchi blinks. "What do you mean?"
"I mean people are squatting like ducks in their homes, scared and complaining - which is fucking worse - because being scared people can do in perfect silence; but the complaining just burns my ears," Kame says, and lets out a frustrated groan. "Well, actually, it's like we're kept in the dark about something… Everything is just strangely… off. Have you ever actually seen an infected person yet?"
Taguchi looks thoughtful for a minute before he shakes his head. "No, not at all. But you know the government does routine checks, and if they say a person is infected, he will be carted off to some hospital for treatment."
"There is no treatment,” deadpans Kame. "And those routine checks are really starting to get on my nerves."
Taguchi hums thoughtfully. "You can't blame them, Kame-chan. Not everyone is like you. Some people need reassurance."
Yeah, that's fucking obvious, he scoffs mentally. Kame sighs.
"You're scared Kame-chan?" Taguchi asks.
Kame thinks that perhaps he might die early, and he knows that it's the unknown that scares people. The thought of dying at any minute would be frightening. Kame twists his left wrist and inspects a mole that he doesn't remember being there. "No. I'm not scared." Kame says, and he truly means it, because like he says, he can't possibly be afraid of what he doesn't know.
Right?
///
Kame hates walking home.
The shortest route forces him to pass the main electronics shop in his small, nearly non-existent town, and the plasma screen TV pressed up against the display window never fails to remind him that Japan is slowly being devoured by the unknown plague.
As usual, there are people crowded around the store, eyes glued to the massive TV screen.
"- As of today, the death toll count has risen to a shocking average of 2 000 000 000 people throughout South East Asia. While back home in Japan, there has been another 1 000 000 deaths this week alone reported. Authorities are still in the process of securing sanctuaries for citizens in the larger cities which will require a pass to enter.“
"Hey! What about us?" yells a scraggly old man, waving his fist angrily in the air. Kame jumps and backs away from the crowd.
"What are we? Chopped liver? Are they just gonna leave us here to rot?" the old man continues, and he is soon joined by another man, then a woman, then a teenager.
Kame stares at the group, which is growing rowdier and rowdier by the passing second. Inaba isn't exactly a town with big flashing strobe lights, so it's not a surprise for it to be forgotten in this commotion. Kame thinks that the smaller, more rural towns are safer from the plague, since the air is fresh and the population is small enough for the place to remain open and breathable.
"They prioritise those elites living in some fancy penthouse rather than us! Who do they think they are?" a woman shouts, and there are loud cheers of agreement before the crowd begins to push and bump against the glass display window.
Kame rolls his eyes. What will making such a fuss solve? Are these people really that retarded? They are shouting at a television screen, for Christ's sake. Kame doesn't hang around and wait for the cops to show up.
He jogs quickly up the street, which is more deserted than usual. The shouts and cries of the people are soon far behind him, and Kame breathes a sigh of relief. Such incidents were of the norm now, so for most of the time Kame will see random people start sprouting nonsense, and declaring their displeasure at the way the government was handling the situation.
It's like they have nothing better to do, he thinks.
He eventually reaches the small cluster of two-storey flats that were the budget type and super cheap. Kame doesn't exactly mind living there. It was more practical and secluded anyway. He strips his shoes and socks off at the genkan and walks in to see his dad kneeling right in front of the television, eyes wide and brows furrowed.
"How long have you been staring at that?" Kame asks and dumps his schoolbooks on the dining table, taking in the sight of his dad's crumpled form, hunched over like a man in prayer.
"Oh, welcome home, Kazuya,” his dad says without taking his eyes off the TV screen. "I made dinner for you. It's in the fridge. And you forgot your face mask today. Again."
Kame's eyes drift to the box of sterilised government issued surgical masks sitting on the countertop. For a clean-freak, he hated the masks with a passion. The feeling of his own breath bursting back at his face is revolting.
“Sorry," he says, but reminds himself to forget again, tomorrow.
"There's going to be a nationwide shutdown soon,” his dad says, and this time, Kame's ears perk up. "The major cities are in turmoil, and the number of sanctuaries the government erected are insufficient. I managed to get a Level Two pass for one of the shelters in Tokyo."
Kame raises a brow. "Level Two pass? Aren't those passes for doctors and researchers only? Citizens are supposed to get a Level One pass. Ours came in the mail yesterday."
"Never you mind,” his dad says. "But if you must know, you have to thank Taguchi-san."
Kame raises a brow. "Taguchi-san? You mean Junno's dad?"
"He's the one who helped get these passes for me. He is a doctor after all."
Kame is silent for a moment. "When are we leaving?" he asks, making a mental note to thank Taguchi later.
"I'm not sure yet. But as soon as I get the chance to slide it by my boss that we'll be taking a family vacation."
Kame raises his brows. "Why? Aren't we going to the sanctuary?"
"Of course we are. But it's best that we keep that a secret,” his dad says, and finally turns to face Kame. He looks terribly ancient, not like his dad at all.
"Why should we?" demands Kame, not liking the secrecy one bit. He then supposes that he might have sounded too harsh, and so adds quickly. "I'm just wondering because this is all just a little weird. Won't everyone get a place in the sanctuaries? So I really don't see the need to tiptoe around."
His dad sighs. "It's not that simple, Kazuya. People are getting restless, and there aren't enough places in the sanctuaries. There've been rumours flying around the office that people have been murdered for places at shelters. Besides, these are Level Two passes, which is more worth killing for compared to those useless Level One passes that does not guarantee a place in the sanctuary. "
Kame's face pales. "Dad, that's a little exaggerated."
His dad shakes his head and purses his lips, all authoritative and domineering. "Just keep in mind not to mention any of this to anyone at all."
Kame frowns but doesn't retaliate. His dad is back with eyes glued to the anchorwoman announcing the location of the sanctuaries.
Kame glances at the stack of files heaped on the couch, and he makes out a passport-sized picture of himself clipped to what he assumes were his medical records and identification papers.
This is stupid, he sighs internally. An absurd thought that the government was just doing this to put the people against one another crosses his mind.
"Don't just hang around in your school clothes,” his dad says suddenly. "Go wash up, and remember to use the disinfectant spray on your clothes before you chuck them into the washing basket."
Kame grunts in reply and slouches off to his room. Life was supposed to be easy. He wanted his life to be easy. He'd graduate from school, then get some crappy office job and die peaceful and alone. Kame doesn't want a wife. Girls never really were an interest to him. Because of this, Taguchi says that someone probably dropped him when he was a baby. Kame reasons that it's probably because girls are just annoyingly boring in general. Taguchi would call him gay, but Kame says he isn't.
Kame is about to enter the bathroom when there are several sharp raps on the front door before it is pushed open.
"Good evening," says a cheery voice. Kame cringes at the sight of the woman that steps in, horn-rimmed glasses glimmering under than dim light. "You forgot to lock your door. I hope you don't mind me barging in like this." says the woman, all smiles and exaggerated politeness. She has one of the face masks pulled down to her neck, revealing sparkly lips and slightly smudged foundation at the base of her chin.
She grips tightly onto a meter long steel prod, with weird dials and meters at one end as though it were her lifeline. "It's Monday 1930 hours. Time for your routine check. Please hold out your hand, Kamenashi-san and Kamenashi-kun.” She smiles sickeningly sweet at Kame, who very slowly, walks up to her, his features barely masking the irritation bubbling beneath.
The pain is quick and sharp. Kame is almost used to it, but it doesn't mean he likes it. The woman removes the prod from Kame's wrist, where a small pinprick of blood is visible. "Well, it looks like you're all nice and healthy,” she beams at him.
His dad is fine as well, and Kame releases a breath he didn't realise he was holding.
"That's all for today! I'll see you again this Wednesday for another check up,” the woman says, and with a slight bow, turns to leave.
"Wait a minute, so soon?" exclaims Kame, indignant. "Isn't it supposed to be once a week?"
The woman adjusts her tweed skirt with a plastic smile on her face. "We can't be too careful now can we?" She bows mechanically and turns to leave. "Oh, and do tell your neighbour to give the Health Department a call as soon as possible,” adds the woman over her shoulder. "She's been avoiding checkups for days, and I'm afraid I'll have to send in the hazmat team if she tries to skip out on us once more. Have a good night."
Kame can't help but wonder because he's sure his neighbour hadn't left her apartment for days.
///
Kame goes to bed that night with the prospect of being kept awake all night long. He remembers his earplugs, since the lady downstairs screams her prayers out every night into the wee hours of the morning. The only thing Kame prays for is a dreamless sleep, and perhaps for everyone to just shut the fuck up for one night so that he doesn't feel, and look like a sleep-deprived insomniac the next morning.
He supposes he must be asleep now, because his dreams are as usual a violent blend of indistinguishable colours and lights. Kame vaguely sees Taguchi's grin that grows larger and large until it swallows his face whole. Then he sees his dad getting married again, to a very sleek looking plasma TV that repeatedly blasts out reports on the red plague wiping out the entire Tokyo metropolis. Somewhere in between he sees his late mom calling out to him. She's just as pretty as he remembers, but Kame doesn't like the way she shakes him until he's sure he can feel his brain rattle around inside his head.
He is awoken to the sensation someone shaking him violently and wonders if he's still dreaming, and Kame instinctively lashes out. He blinks the sandy feeling out of his eyes and the hysterical face of his dad swims into focus out of the dark.
"Get up,” he hisses, and Kame is startled by how ragged he sounds. "We have to go. Now.”
Kame barely registers the urgency in his dad's tone when the rare silence of the night is completely shattered by a siren that echoes and reverberates around his head, making the world shake.
"Dad, what the hell is this?" Kame yells over the repeated call of the siren. It was like the school bell, only ten times more annoying.
"It's the evacuation siren,” his dad replies, and drags Kame out of bed. "Get dressed. Quickly."
Although his mind is still groggy, Kame snatches up his jeans and a plain white tee and fumbles with the buttons and buckles. Kame feels the back pocket of his jeans for his phone while sprinting to the living room, which is pitch black, illuminated by a strange red glow from the television screen.
Kame halts and stares at the TV. Had his dad been out here all night? But the scrolling message in bold black words against the bright red background sends an involuntary chill up his spine.
"PLEASE EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY AND PROCEED TO YOUR DESIGNATED SANCTUARY. THANK YOU."
The ambiguity of the statement makes his blood run cold. Why did they have to evacuate? Did they find out something about the plague that they weren't telling the public? Was it airborne or something?
"Kazuya!"
Kame grits his teeth and races out the door to see his dad already starting up the car. Kame sprints toward the rickety steel stairs, but he has to stop when the door of the apartment next to his flies open.
Kame curses and zips past the space between the metal railing and the open steel door, but he has to stop again at the top of the stairs because of the smell. Kame gags and nearly retches, his body curling over as he coughs violently.
Pressing the back of his hand to his face, Kame turns around. Whatever it was smelled like a cross between meat being left out to rot for days and decaying garbage. The stench was coming from the open door to his neighbour's apartment. Why hadn't he noticed the smell before?
His dad's yells fall upon deaf ears as Kame inches closer to the open door.
It's pitch black inside and the smell of rotting flesh just gets stronger as he approaches it, so much so that Kame daren't breathe.
"Help me,” says a voice, and Kame cringes at how wet and mushy it sounds, as though the person was speaking underwater.
Kame smells it before he sees it, because the putrefying smell increases tenfold when what looked like a walking piece of meat hobbles brokenly out of the apartment. Kame immediately regrets the sharp intake of breath that follows this as he breathes in lungfuls of the saturated stench.
Kame falls flat on his rear, and scrambles backwards frantically because he doubts whether the thing before him is human.
Kame doesn't really talk to his neighbour, but he knows that it's some old lady with no children. He always tilts his head politely when he sees her, and she will sometimes smile at him, papery skin crinkling into deep wrinkles at the corner of her toothless mouth and squinty eyes.
Whatever it is, right now Kame doesn't trust his eyes, because if the person in front of him is that old lady, then it looks as if something had ripped half her jaw off and tore scraggly holes into her bare chest and legs. He then notes the flies buzzing out of the open apartment and wonders how long she had been cooped up in there.
She takes a wobbly step forward, and a piece of flesh from her arm falls off, dropping to the ground with a sick splattering sound. Kame yelps and finally shoots unsteadily to his feet, gripping the steel railing behind him for support. She's completely naked, and Kame can barely make out the flecks of rotting skin under all the blood.
The wailing siren in the background just adds to the horror scene before him, and if Kame wasn't so terrified by the scene before him, he'd probably laugh at how stupid this is, like some third rate zombie movie.
"Kazuya!"
This time someone yanks him by his collar and half drags him down the steps and across the parking lot. "What the hell were you standing there for?" his dad yells and throws Kame roughly into the passenger seat. Kame barely has time to pull his feet in before the door slams shut.
His dad is next to him in seconds, and the next thing Kame registers are the trees and buildings blending into a blur as the car races down the deserted street at breakneck speed.
He can still smell the stench sticking to him, and hurriedly clamps a hand down on is mouth before he throws up. The first thing he thinks is what the hell was that? What the hell happened to her? How could NO ONE have noticed the smell?
"Kazuya, next time when I say move, you do not stand there like some petrified idiot,” Kame's dad breathes, and Kame realises that his hands are shaking on the steering wheel. "She could've touched you." he adds, voice hoarse.
It is awhile before Kame finds his voice. "Dad, what the hell was that?"
“Nothing," replies his dad, and this sends a jolt of anger straight up Kame's spine.
"What do you mean 'nothing'? Don't fucking say that was 'nothing', because I know you know something that you aren't telling me,” snarls Kame, temper barely kept at bay. "Tell me what the hell's going on."
His dad is leaned forward, knuckles white from his death grip on the wheel and his chest practically sticking to the steering wheel, eyes glued onto the road. "I have a friend. He works in the local hospital. He told me, a few weeks ago that the plague evolves fast."
"And that's supposed to explain what I saw back there?" Kame says when his dad doesn't continue. "SHE WAS LITERALLY DISINTEGRATING."
"And that's why, when I say move, you'd do well to listen."
The dull wailing of the evacuation siren stops, leaving Kame's ears ringing.
There is a tone of finality in his dad's voice that stuns Kame into reluctant silence. Kame hates not knowing. He hates being kept in the dark, especially about this. This was exactly like the time when his dad kept it a secret from him that his mom was dying. Kame was the victim then. But this, this was another matter entirely, because what he saw would forever be engraved into his corneas, because saying 'engraved into his mind' is just too sappy and clichéd.
Kame bites his bottom lip, because he now realises the seriousness of it all. He can't slink back into the safe cocoon that is obliviousness, because he's been forcefully wrenched out, and the reality before him is frightening.
Kame blinks and releases a shuddering breath.
He actually is scared.
Taguchi may have been right all along.
Phase 1: Mammon
Kame is close to throwing his phone out the car window.
Traffic is bumper to bumper along the main highway leading out of the town, and shouts of frustration and anger mingle with the cacophony of repeated beeps from car horns.
Kame sticks his arms out the window, glaring at the infuriating 'no service' in bright glowing letters on his phone screen. "Come on…" Kame pleads, and with the way he's focusing on the oblong screen was as though by some super mind-control power he could perhaps make one bar of service appear.
"Stop it Kazuya,” his dad says, voice muffled by the surgical mask covering half his face. "Put your mask on and sit still. It's likely that there won't be any service until the lockdown is called off."
"I have to get in touch with Taguchi,” Kame says obstinately while tugging on the stuffy mask. "He could be anywhere."
"He's fine. As long as he has the correct papers, it's all good,” replies his dad, and Kame's eyes slide automatically to the brown envelope on the backseat. It was hard to believe that a few sheets of paper were practically his lifeline now.
The car jolts to a stop again, and Kame's dad growls out a curse, craning his neck to look over the chain of vehicles before him. "Crap, this is bad. The line isn't moving at all- WIND UP YOUR WINDOW."
Kame jumps at the sudden urgency in his dad's tone, but manages to hurriedly jam his finger onto the button. The glass shoots up just as a hand smacks onto it's smooth surface, making Kame yelp in fright.
It is a man. He's covered in black and red splotches and lesions that ooze out yellowing pus. The man's swollen, cracked lips move, and Kame doesn't need to hear to know what he's trying to say. He scrabbles weakly at the window, and leaves flecks of flesh and blood on the glass before proceeding to yank fruitlessly at the door handle, his face contorted in such a way that Kame instinctively backs away.
The man turns bloodshot, begging eyes onto Kame and his dad, who are both stiff in their seats. He makes a weak gesture at the door and continues tugging at the handle. His lips move again, and Kame swallows a lump in his throat. The man just repeats his actions in a stop-start fashion, pleading at them to open the door.
Kame's entire being is stiff, but he gulps and shakes his head mutely. The man stops and stares at Kame, seemingly unable to understand. Kame just shakes his head more forcefully.
There is a moment of complete silence, and the man gives the door handle a few more futile tugs. Finally, without another glance, he limps away to the next car where he brokenly repeats his previous movements.
Kame watches transfixed, because this is exactly like a scene out those zombie apocalypse movies. At once, he remembers the stench of his decaying neighbour and wonders if this man would eventually end up like her. "He was just asking for help." Kame says suddenly, his voice quiet. "And we are leaving him to rot by the roadside."
"When it comes down to this, I suggest you use your common sense and close your eyes to everything else,” says his dad in a calm tone. "I don't want to leave him like that, but there isn't anything we can do. We can't help him and risk getting infected."
"So you're finally admitting you actually knew the plague can do that to a person?" Kame says in a subdued tone as he watches the man hobble away from the red car in front of them to the next. It was pointless. No one would help him at all. "Why did you keep it from me?"
"Kazuya, there was no reason for me to scare you. Besides, there shouldn't be anyone that severely infected out and about. Either they slipped through the system or the plague is maturing faster than before. "
"That isn't he point,” Kame sighs.
"Would it have changed anything if I told you? All I would have done was frighten you. But right now it should be okay. We will probably be in the shelter long before more of the infected reach that terminal stage.” his dad replies in such a way that Kame has to swallow the scream that builds up at the back of his throat.
His dad is completely missing the point. Did this scare Kame? Of course it did. It wasn't only the fact that his skin would eventually rot off, and send the stench of liquefying flesh into the high heavens, but it was mainly the pitiful state of those poor people that really and truly scared him.
They were helpless, and their faces - fuck - those sunken, glassy eyes and flaky skin dappled in lesions and bloodied boils. Fine, he admits that he's kind of vain, and he isn't completely blind to not know the blatant fact that he's actually pretty. It had always been a silent understanding on his part - that he was one of what people called 'pretty boys'. Kame gulps. That's the first time he has ever admitted it so openly, even though it's been in his mind, he's finally used the taboo 'p' adjective on himself that would make even Taguchi cringe if used to describe a guy.
Worst of all, Kame realises that he isn't ashamed of it. On the contrary, he actually likes the fact that he looks pretty. Hell, he'd been mistaken for a girl one time too many in junior high, and Kame still likes it when people compliment him on his slight feminine looks (but he is still a guy).
He chokes down a bitter laugh. God, if Taguchi could hear his trivial thoughts at this moment he'd probably laugh his ass off with how gay he actually sounds.
Kame pulls down the visor and he stares into the face of the person reflected, whose eyes are wide and terrified-looking, dark circles melting into pale skin around the bridge of his nose. He keeps his hair long, and the brown locks dust thin shoulders, which join onto a lean and slim body.
Kame never realised how ridiculously vain he actually is until this moment, because he thinks that 'I'd rather die than look like them.'
///
When they finally arrive at their designated sanctuary compound, the number of people astounds Kame completely. It's almost like the time he and Taguchi went to the GazettE concert, where the sheer number of fans crowded around Tokyo Dome was enough to form a sea of people stretching from the dome entrance to the roads surrounding it.
It's just that this time, it is twice as bad.
From his seat, Kame can barely make out the strange dome-like building occupying what used to be Ueno Park, through the sea of people. It's clearly impossible to travel any further by car, because people and more people were pressed against each other as they made their way slowly toward the building.
Kame can't prevent his jaw from dropping, because everything - the cherry blossom trees, the museums, everything was gone. For the government to sacrifice a landmark as great and as beautiful as Ueno Park just proved how serious the situation actually is.
"This is bad. There's no way we can make it any further. Get the papers, and don't lose them." Kame's dad says, and unbuckles his seatbelt. It is then that Kame realises that they may be one of the very last to get in if they don't somehow force their way through the crowd.
Kame obediently reaches for the packet of documents on the backseat and holds it close to himself. Pushing the mask further up his nose, Kame pushes open the car door, which was rather difficult, seeing that he had to push away people who were pressed against it.
Even through his mask is tightly pressed to his face, the smell of the crowd - sweat, body odour, and unwashed clothes - almost chokes him. Kame stays glued to the car until his dad grips him by the wrist and tugs him forcefully through the throng of people. His face gets mushed into someone's back, as the wave of people shove and push against him from all directions, and Kame is sure someone just groped his ass. The only thing that guides him surely through the maze of people is his dad, who seems to know exactly where to go.
It is awhile before the crowd begins to thin slightly, but Kame feels as though he'd been walking for an eternity. The dome-like building is closer than ever, and Kame can see the entrances, which look like those metal detectors in airports, but with thick doors flanked by military personnel in hazmat suits, and several policemen in normal uniform but with gloves and gas masks on.
The crowd splits into several lines and Kame and his dad manage to slide into one without any trouble. Kame can finally wriggle his hand out of his dad's and flex his sore fingers.
"Don't move from your spot, and don't make eye contact with anyone. People here are on edge and desperate to get inside the sanctuary. Any wrong moves and you'll start a brawl,” says Kame's dad.
Kame grunts in reply, because it's just too tiring to nod. Behind him is some fat guy pushing against his back, and Kame doesn't dare move. The noise, god. It presses on him from all sides, and Kame resists the urge to dig his fingers into his ears. He notes the large number of military personnel patrolling the area and nudging people into their respective lines.
He cranes his neck, and catches sight of an old man being hauled out of the crowd, his wrinkled face covered in telltale blisters. Kame finds himself staring at the old man hard, waiting, waiting for something to happen - perhaps his arm might fall off or something - but nothing happens. Kame's eyes follow the man being dragged away until the crowd swallows the scene up.
"Please ensure that your identification papers and access passes are with you at all times. Remain calm while we confirm your placement at the sanctuary. For the safety of yourself and the public, please remember to keep the government issued masks on at all times including after being permitted entry into the sanctuary. Thank you.”
The computerised female voice that blares out of the two speakers at the top of the sanctuary cuts through the distorted shouts and cries of the crowd. Kame can't help but want to laugh at the how unfit it sounded, all calm and collected against the panic and confusion around him.
He doesn't know how long he has stood in line for, but finally he's the next person to be admitted. His dad takes the brown envelope and passes it to one of the guards at the entrance, who swiftly checks them. "Clear." Kame watches as the guard tosses the paper envelope into a large box filled with similar files.
"You. Look here." His chin is grabbed by a gloved hand, and he feels cold metal pressed to his face. "Don't blink."
It isn't until Kame's eyes begin to water with the effort of keeping them open that he finally hears a sharp beep, and the gloved hand releases his chin and pushes him to one side. "Clean."
His dad is also forced to stare into the retinal scanner, and Kame holds his breath. It feels like eons before he hears the familiar beep. "Clean. Proceed."
Kame and his dad are both pushed unceremoniously toward the entrance, which is heavily guarded. The metal doors are the last barrier between him and safety. Finally. Kame can't help but breathe a sigh of relief. He glances behind and takes is in the endless sea of bobbing heads and tired, worn faces. Just how many more people could this sanctuary hold?
"Hold it." says a voice just as Kame takes a step toward the open entrance, and Kame wants nothing better than to scream. His eyes water as the bright interior of the sanctuary almost burns his corneas, the peaceful, artificial silence within beckoning to him like a siren's song. He is so close. So fucking close, and now what?
The hand on his shoulder is rough and hard. Kame reluctantly tears his eyes away from the light and looks up to see a stern looking guard staring back at him. "Sorry sir, please step back."
"What is it? Why can't we go in?" asks his dad, and the frustrated wail that almost claws it's way out of Kame's throat is successfully stifled. Kame blinks a few times before he is sure that he can speak coherently without exploding.
"We are clean." Kame croaks. "We were scanned, and they said we were clean. Why, of all that is fucking holy, can't we-"
The guard just shakes his head and forces Kame to step aside. "Just move to one side please."
The remaining people who have yet to be cleared are forced to one side by military personnel, who keep them at bay with batons and tasers, much to Kame's horror. The crowd is parted like the red sea as a sleek black limousine with the glaring words 'ELITE' along with some strange barcode stamped on its hood in fluorescent ink roll to a stop directly in front of the sanctuary gates.
Some pot-bellied man with a red face and black suit steps out, followed by a woman dripping in diamonds. They half run toward the guards, chucking a sheaf of documents at them and gesturing for them to hurry up.
Kame is barely able to see straight, because the fury that explodes within him like raging hellfire burns whatever rational thought in his head to ashes. How dare they, is the first coherent sentence that almost spills through his gritted teeth. The obvious favouritism shown by the government is appalling, and the mere thought of the Elites being prioritised before the lives of the innocent citizens makes Kame want to retch in disgust.
The guards quickly scan the couple and they are permitted access into the safe embrace of the sanctuary.
"Hey! This isn't fair! We've been waiting for hours!" a man shouts, and his call is reciprocated by more indignant yells.
"You dirty government dogs! We were here first!" shouts another man, and Kame can't help but agree with him. The only thing holding him back from opening his mouth and offering the guards in front of him several choice words was his common sense. Kame isn't going to get thrown back into the sea of people, now shifting and blistering with yells and cries of anger and outrage.
"Thats it! I've had it with this crap. Let us through!"
The crowd crashes forwards like a tidal wave, and Kame plugs his fingers into his ears. The noise of the people explodes around him and rattles his eardrums. A guard yanks Kame and his dad toward the entrance, while the remaining military personnel holds the raging crowd at bay.
"Get in!" he yells, over the throng of noise, and Kame is just too happy to oblige.
He lets his dad enter the sanctuary first, because it's only the right thing to do, but before Kame can set his foot past the threshold, the doors slide shut without warning. It's like he's watching the metal plates shift and slam together in slow motion; his dad's shocked face is the last thing he sees before Kame is staring at his own stupefied expression reflected on the dull metal of the sanctuary doors.
A shrill female computerised voice slices through the air, "Maximum capacity reached. Sanctuary KU20061304 will now undergo the lockdown sequence. All military personnel, please proceed to the designated extraction points, thank you.”
It's chaos in mere seconds, and Kame barely has enough time to regain his composure and actually register the fact that HE'S OFFICIALLY SCREWED before the anguished wails of the thousands of people behind him slam into his back like a solid wall.
Kame is thankful (and surprised) that his reflexes are still in working order, because his mind is completely blank at the moment, but he's fast enough to save himself from the approaching stampede, instinctively bolting to the side of the sanctuary dome and away from the now closed entrance.
He's spared from being attacked head-on by the now hysterical crowd, but still has to push past people to actually escape the oncoming wave. It's difficult, and Kame squeezes his eyes shut and thrusts his arms before him, but that doesn't prevent him from being bumped into, left right and centre, wave upon wave of people tossing his thin body this way and that. Kame feels himself being flung around like a rag doll, and he desperately begs whatever deity is out there to just let him get out of this hellhole, when his head finally breaks the surface, and Kame finds himself falling face first onto rough bitumen.
Kame braces himself with his arms and ends up with several light scratches, but nothing that draws blood. He scrambles to his feet and is amazed at how far the sanctuary is from his current position. The crowd is a mass of bodies writhing and twisting, fighting to somehow get into the sanctuary. Kame backs away, his mind a complete mess.
What am I going to do? Is the first thought that slices through his muddled mind. Should he go home? Or perhaps find another sanctuary? Didn't his dad say there were many in the major cities? But wait, his identification papers were with the guards way up front, and he'd be damned if he had to fight his way back into the mass of stinking sweaty bodies.
Kame checks his back pocket, and thanks the high heavens that his cellphone is somehow still with him after that previous ordeal. Kame backs into the shadow of an overturned truck and pulls out the contraption, trembling fingers fumbling to unlock the screen. He almost cries with relief when he sees the singular bar at the top left hand corner of the screen (his dad was wrong, there is still service).
He scrolls down his list of favourites and stops at Taguchi's number, pressing the 'call' button and pressing the phone to his ear. It's centuries before Taguchi finally picks up the phone, and the panicky "Hello? Kame? Is that you?" that follows is like music to Kame's ears.
"Oh my god, Taguchi? Thank fuck you picked up,” Kame half cries into the speaker. The connection is bad and the annoying static keeps punctuating Taguchi's words. It doesn’t help that the mass of people around the sanctuary are practically screaming at the top of their lungs.
"-Kame? Are - okay? Where are - you?"
"I'm at the Ueno Park sanctuary, but it exceeded its capacity before I could get in." Kame yells over the noise. "Where are you? Are you in a sanctuary?"
"- I - not in - sanctuary - Shinjuku - can you - there?" Taguchi sounds almost hysterical, his high-pitched voice like stabbing needles into Kame's ear, but he pushes at the phone harder into the side of his face until the shell of his ear begins to sting.
"What? I can't -"
Through the thick curtain of static and Taguchi's stop-start sentences, Kame notes that there isn't any distinguishable background noise, as though wherever Taguchi is at the moment is completely silent.
"I'M - SHINJUKU - WAIT FOR- YOU."
The broken shouts are Taguchi's last words to Kame before the line breaks off and the familiar, yet annoying dial tone pierces his eardrum. Kame glares at his phone and resists the urge to snap it in half.
Pocketing the device, Kame takes a deep breath, which is greatly restricted by the stupid mask that sticks to his face, scratchy and uncomfortable with sweat and grime. He has to remain calm, because he's not dead yet, and fuck this stupid plague because he isn't going to let the fear get to him. Kame is going to make it out alive, and when he does, he'll go right back into the little sanctuary of his own; back to the sweet, soft embrace of obliviousness.
Taguchi said Shinjuku, didn't he? That was a good place as any to start at. He'd find Taguchi first, then worry about what to do next later. Part of him is relieved that at least his dad managed to get to safety. That was one thing less to worry about, and perhaps his hair won't all have turned grey by the end of this fucking pandemic with all the unnecessary worrying.
He inspects the many abandoned cars littering the dark roads, and cheers internally upon finding one with the keys left in the ignition. Muttering a quick apology to whomever the car belonged to, Kame slips in and turns the key.
"I can't believe I'm doing this."
The last time Kame touched a steering wheel was when he washed his dad's station wagon a week ago. It feels like centuries now, and Kame finds it hard to believe that this time last week he had been playing Tekken with Taguchi - the latter beating him into a pulp in almost every round and Kame not understanding why he plays it when he knows he's going to lose anyway - and now, here he is attempting underaged driving.
It's a shot echoing behind him that shocks Kame into stomping onto the accelerator, and his entire body lurches forward when he hurriedly retracts his foot and stamps on the break.
His ears are ringing, and he wonders why.
Kame blinks.
He realises that his ears are actually ringing with a dead silence that suddenly coats his surroundings like a thick, suffocating veil. A barrage of repeated gunshots followed by the sudden explosion of screams and howls of pain is the trigger that spurs him into slamming his foot down onto the accelerator, and the car shoots forwards down deserted streets.
He glances into the rear view mirror, and sees the crowd dispersing rapidly, running away from the sanctuary rather than at it. He then notices several bodies lying crumpled on the ground, and from this distance, they look like rag dolls, torn and disposable. The worst thing is perhaps the fact that he doesn't have to squint to see the military personnel turning their firearms upon the public without batting an eyelid.
They stand in a row outside the sanctuary, arms and weapons raised and finger continuous pressing down onto the trigger, firing relentlessly into the sea of people writhing and twisting against one another. It's too far to note the gory details, but just seeing people dropping to the ground one by one, is enough to make the bile bubble and rise in his throat. Kame's breath hitches, and he nearly slams into an overturned cab.
He needs to get out of here.
Kame has completely no clue where he's driving to, but all he wants to do is get as far away from here as possible. His body is rigid, chest pressed right up to the steering wheel and fingers cold and clammy with sweat.
They were shooting people down like livestock.
They did it without flinching.
All he hears is the hum of the engine as he drives at breakneck speed and the harsh, shuddering pants that seem to fog up the glass in front of him because Kame can barely see. He blinks furiously, trying to get the horrible images out of his head.
Taguchi. He needs to find him.
He finally slows to a stop in front of a broken down traffic light somewhere in the city. Kame is still shivering, but he quickly searches for a signboard. As Kame makes a right turn, the realisation that trying to find Taguchi in Shinjuku is like finding a needle in a haystack hits him like a ton of bricks. The number of 'what ifs' that bombard his thoughts is unhealthy, and Kame is close to hyperventilating.
His saviour arrives in the form of a text message which Kame fumbles to read.
It's from Taguchi and contains only one word.
///
From:
To:
Kabukichō
///
He drives to the train station (because he isn't going to drive down the deserted highway for frickin’ miles) and the number of people crowding around it doesn't reassure him in the least.
Kame pulls his mask higher up his face until it covers most of his nose. He has to look as inconspicuous as possible. Parking the car swiftly (he drives up the curb, and Kame doubts he'll ever pass his driving test, if he ever gets the chance to have one) Kame steps out of the vehicle and shuts the door before making his way into the station.
It's packed with people, old and young. They sit in little clusters, each and every one of them looking tired and drawn. Kame tries to walk toward the tracks without actually touching anyone. So far, he hasn't seen any more of the infected, and for some reason it scares him slightly.
He boards the very next bullet train to Shinjuku (he's surprised that the trains are still up and running) and chooses a corner close to the door and far from other people. So far, he's blending in rather well.
"Hey there."
Kame jolts violently at the sudden tapping on his shoulder, and spins around to come face to face with a girl with striking neon blue hair. It burns his eyes.
Kame blinks a few times, this time it's to remove the floating blue spots that erupted before his vision. The girl isn't wearing a mask, and unlike many people in the rattling train, she's smiling from ear to ear.
"Hey there." she repeats, and Kame notices the Earpods that dangle from one of her ears. The loose earbud hangs in front of her checked sweater that clashes horribly with her disgusting hair. "Are you travelling alone?"
Kame has to gulp a few times before answering, his voice muffled by the thick surgical mask. "Y-Yeah. I am.”
"Cool! Can I tag along?"
The girl grins and Kame makes a mental note of her thirty lip rings and the fifty tongue studs.
No, you sure as fuck can't, you freak.
"Sorry, but I really prefer to be on my own." he answers, as politely as possible.
The girl isn't fazed by his cool rejection and pouts cutely. Kame nearly winces at the fugly duck face that is thrust before him. She was too close, entering a very sacred, bubble wrapped space of comfort: his personal space. Kame leans away and the ‘Kame Glare’ - as Taguchi calls it - appears.
"Look, can you please just… Oh I dunno, like stay away from me?" Kame snaps. He doesn't mean to, but the last thing he needs is some crazy blue haired, pin cushion tearing away what little 'Kame-space' he had left.
Despite everything he has seen, the madness, inhumanity, Kame is still glad that his ability to shoot his mouth off is still intact.
"Aren't you just the sourpuss,” she chortles. "Afraid I'll infect you or something? Now aren't we all?"
Kame sighs. "I didn't say that, but since you put it that way, then yeah. I am." says Kame, his tone laced in sardonic sarcasm that for some reason makes the girl grin wider.
"I like you. You got spunk, kid,” she laughs, which earns her several glares from the tired people seated around. "I've been looking for a travelling partner that doesn't resemble someone on death row, which, as you can see -“ her tone drops low to a whisper. “- includes almost everyone in this dump."
Kid? Kame's brows twitch in annoyance.
"Well, how 'bout we do the cheesy thing people normally do when they meet new friends and introduce ourselves." She claps her hands together and Kame can't help but compare her to the smiley Taguchi. "Hi there, stranger, I'm Toda Erika. 26 years old and a Third year Med student at Tokyo U (Kame's jaw falls open at this) and am currently not sick!" She finishes her little speech with a flourish before staring at Kame expectantly. "Your turn, stranger."
Kame debates for awhile before answering. "Kamenashi Kazuya. Third year high school student. I'm not sick."
"You sure are boring." says Erika, her heavily mascaraed eyelids dropping low as she scoffs. "Have more gusto when you speak, why don'tcha!"
"You're crazy,” says Kame, finally pulling down his mask because the feeling of his breath blasting back at him is really getting too much. "How can I possibly in this kinda situati- Why are you looking at me like that?"
Kame instinctively backs away because Erika's eyes are sparkling rather dangerously as she scanned his naked face. It's only when Kame snaps his fingers in front of her face that she is pulled out of her trance.
"Oops, sorry." she laughs. "I was just surprised. I though you were a guy - I mean, You certainly look like one. Well, before you showed your…" Erika makes an awkward dismissive gesture at him. "…face. But in my defence, you definitely have no boobs." She stretches to and probe Kame's chest, making the latter let out an indignant squawk and slap her hands away. "I guess some girls are just flat-chested-"
"I am a guy, you moron,” Kame hisses, his face flushing rapidly, much to his horror. He doesn't mind people complimenting his feminine looks, but not mistaking him for the freaking opposite sex.
Erika eyes Kame carefully again. “Hm," she says, her eyelids dropping low which Kame notices are painted a violent blue shade to match her ridiculous hair. "Did you get plastic surgery or something? 'Cause you look like a girl,” she deadpans, and Kame just blushes further in embarrassment.
"Fuck off,” is the most intelligent response he has, and he turns away, exasperated but somewhat refreshed. Having a normal conversation with someone who isn’t so pessimistic about the current situation is rather liberating, and he felt something akin to normality return to him.
"Ah!" says Erika suddenly, and Kame feels hands patting him comfortingly. He turns back to see Erika staring at him with a motherly expression that makes his insides freeze up. "I completely understand now." she sighs. "Don't worry, I won't judge you. I have friends that are gay too-"
"I'm NOT gay!" Kame squawks, eyes widening is horror. "Shut up already!"
Erika just laughs, and ignores the close to murderous looks being thrown at her by the many tired and worried passengers.
Kame is kind of worried whether he'll be able to make it out of here alive at all. Perhaps he should have just taken the stupid highway.
-> part 2
From: yumemirunosekai
Title: Post Tenebras, Lux (Part 1)
Pairings/Characters: Kamenashi Kazuya/Ueda Tatsuya (main), Taguchi Junnosuke, Tanaka Koki, Toda Erika (side)
Rating: NC 17+
Warnings: blood, violence, gore, angst, AU, sci-fi
Notes: My first attempt at an AU/sci-fi fic. This a KAT-TUN gen fic with a side of KameDa. The personality I chose for Kame is Shuuji's real personality (the one that surfaces when he's with Akira, all prickly and whatnot) I have to emphasise that I tried to make this fic as close to reality as possible, in favour of my recipient, so expect less fluff and more… well. Reality.
Summary: Post Tenebras, Lux. ‘From Darkness, Light.’ The Red Plague has wiped out almost half the world’s population. Kame is a typical high school student who wants the easy way out of things, choosing to live in his own little world and ignore reality. When the lockdown sequence begins, he is thrown into another world where humans are animals, and killing seems to become a second nature. This is not a story of adventure, but reality.
part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4 || part 5
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favour fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
- Robert Frost (Fire and Ice)
Phase 0: Lucifer [prologue]
"You sneeze on me once more…"
Kame leaves his threat hanging, and shoots the smiling idiot next to him what he assumes passes for a menacing glare. His fingers clamp down on his pencil and he resists the urge to fling it across the room.
Taguchi looks sheepishly at Kame, who cringes at the sight of snot hanging out of his nose. "Cut it out," he hisses. "That's gross."
It's not his fault germs freak him out. Because Kame just can't comprehend the minds of simple-minded humans, who think that cafeteria food is of a reasonable sanitary level to be considered edible. He shivers in his seat.
"Sorry, Kame-chan,” Taguchi attempts a half-hearted apology. He knows of Kame's tendency to be prickly, and yet he doesn't mind being friends with the only kid in school who carries jumbo-sized boxes of wet-wipes in his bag.
"You should really see a doctor." says Kame, and turns back to face the blackboard. "You've been like that since last week."
Taguchi nods sheepishly, and ducks back down to his books filled with scribbles of numbers and symbols that Kame is certain makes almost no sense to the boy. Taguchi never did get algebra. So Kame, being the saint he is, always tutors him whenever he gets too stuck.
When he transferred to this school, he knew it was low standard even before his first class. The guys dress like delinquents out of stupid shounen manga, and the girls don't seem to understand that undergarments should be worn under their garments.
If he weren’t in his right mind, Kame would think that perhaps the world had been taken over by a colony of infants with the ability to shape shift. Kame blames his dad wholeheartedly for accepting the work offer in Inaba.
Regardless, Kame knows why his dad had to get out of Tokyo. He grunts and rests his chin in one hand, eyes drifting aimlessly out the window.
The mass shutdown of hundreds of companies was something he expected, seeing that the Red Plague had spread throughout the main cities, slowly creeping across Japan like some fucked-up zombie disease.
It is considered amazing that the schools in Inaba are still up and running. Even so, Kame knows that this is just the calm before the storm. He wonders how far they can run before the plague catches up.
Nothing much is known about it, just that it began one day when some random salaryman dropped dead in the middle of Tokyo Train Station. Then the days followed on with more and more people dropping dead like flies. There had been nothing wrong with them, just a reported slight fever and cough.
Kame never really paid much attention to it. Not even when scientists came out with a name for it. Red Plague. How cliché, Kame had thought. Every news channel throughout Japan were being fed reports solely on the Red Plague and how fast it spreads. So much so that his ears were beginning to ring with the incessant echoes of high-pitched anchorwomen's voices screeching out death toll reports day in and day out.
"Ne, Kame?" Taguchi says, and he prods Kame with the tip of his pencil. "Did you watch the news this morning?"
Kame waves Taguchi away. He no longer watches the news. Why would he when all there is to see were more reported deaths or failed attempts to synthesise a cure for this stupid plague? Everything is just completely pointless. Not to mention hopeless.
"Don't you wanna know how things are progressing? It's not good to remain oblivious~" says Taguchi in a singsong voice as he continues to jab incessantly at Kame's ribs with the tip of his pencil.
Taguchi smiles too much, Kame decides. Trying and failing to ignore the prodding and poking at his side he wonders when was the last time he'd seen Taguchi frown. Kame likes Taguchi, even though he can be annoying some - scratch that, most of the time. He's a least aware of what's going on around him, unlike Kame, who prefers to remain unknowing and safe. It is hard to explain to someone like Taguchi why he didn't like to face reality because the latter was just the embodiment of naivety, all smiles and carefree grins because he believes that things will be okay. Everything will be okay eventually, that's why he likes to keep up with the news, hanging onto the anchorwoman's every word, desperately hoping for some good news to trickle through.
Taguchi's just scared, like everyone else.
He really puts too much faith in the government.
Despite everything, Kame believes that Taguchi isn't what he seems. His words were occasionally deep and strangely sensible which betrayed the goofy smile forever etched onto his face. But then again, the latter was just too airy to fully grasp the underlying messages behind certain situations.
For Kame, the plague was nothing but an insignificant bother in his life. He chooses not to think, because thinking hurt his brain too much, and he doesn't want to see other than what is laid out before him.
Kame likes to think that things would be okay, and he wishes that he can think like Taguchi does, but he can't because that would mean that he was scared as well, and Kame just isn't, or so he likes to think.
Staying in the dark is safest. Because what you don't know, you can't possibly be afraid of.
///
"Please remember to wear the government issued masks at all times while in public. As it is still unknown whether the Red Plague is airborne, please remain at ease. Updates will be frequently broadcasted to every radio and television station throughout Japan, please stay tuned and have a nice day.”
Kamenashi wonders if Taguchi would kill him if he threw his PSP out the window. "Will you shut the damn thing up?" snaps Kame, and he snatches the oblong device from Taguchi's hands and jams his thumb onto the shut down button. It's lunchtime, and he should be lying on the grass outside watching the clouds, but no, Taguchi has to insist he listens to the news with him.
“Have a nice day,” repeats Kame in a low, mocking tone. "Don't fuck with me."
Taguchi just grins and gently coaxes his PSP out of Kame's death grip. "Relax, Kame-chan. They are just trying to be normal. What would the world become without the normalcy that is provided by the wonderful news reporters that we love so dear?" he tilts his head to one side and puts on a face that makes the hairs on Kame's body crawl.
This is the fourth floor, Kame thinks. Throwing Taguchi off it along with his PSP will certainly make sure they both shut up for good.
"By the way," Taguchi pipes up, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Where is your mask? If Sawatari-sensei catches you without it he'll probably have you hauled off to the hospital. He's paranoid that way."
"I could say the same for you,” Kame says blandly, eyeing Taguchi's bare face, grin and all. His eyes slide back to Taguchi's black PSP, the latter's love of his life.
"Hey, don't you think the government is being kinda shifty about all this?" says Kame suddenly.
Taguchi blinks. "What do you mean?"
"I mean people are squatting like ducks in their homes, scared and complaining - which is fucking worse - because being scared people can do in perfect silence; but the complaining just burns my ears," Kame says, and lets out a frustrated groan. "Well, actually, it's like we're kept in the dark about something… Everything is just strangely… off. Have you ever actually seen an infected person yet?"
Taguchi looks thoughtful for a minute before he shakes his head. "No, not at all. But you know the government does routine checks, and if they say a person is infected, he will be carted off to some hospital for treatment."
"There is no treatment,” deadpans Kame. "And those routine checks are really starting to get on my nerves."
Taguchi hums thoughtfully. "You can't blame them, Kame-chan. Not everyone is like you. Some people need reassurance."
Yeah, that's fucking obvious, he scoffs mentally. Kame sighs.
"You're scared Kame-chan?" Taguchi asks.
Kame thinks that perhaps he might die early, and he knows that it's the unknown that scares people. The thought of dying at any minute would be frightening. Kame twists his left wrist and inspects a mole that he doesn't remember being there. "No. I'm not scared." Kame says, and he truly means it, because like he says, he can't possibly be afraid of what he doesn't know.
Right?
///
Kame hates walking home.
The shortest route forces him to pass the main electronics shop in his small, nearly non-existent town, and the plasma screen TV pressed up against the display window never fails to remind him that Japan is slowly being devoured by the unknown plague.
As usual, there are people crowded around the store, eyes glued to the massive TV screen.
"- As of today, the death toll count has risen to a shocking average of 2 000 000 000 people throughout South East Asia. While back home in Japan, there has been another 1 000 000 deaths this week alone reported. Authorities are still in the process of securing sanctuaries for citizens in the larger cities which will require a pass to enter.“
"Hey! What about us?" yells a scraggly old man, waving his fist angrily in the air. Kame jumps and backs away from the crowd.
"What are we? Chopped liver? Are they just gonna leave us here to rot?" the old man continues, and he is soon joined by another man, then a woman, then a teenager.
Kame stares at the group, which is growing rowdier and rowdier by the passing second. Inaba isn't exactly a town with big flashing strobe lights, so it's not a surprise for it to be forgotten in this commotion. Kame thinks that the smaller, more rural towns are safer from the plague, since the air is fresh and the population is small enough for the place to remain open and breathable.
"They prioritise those elites living in some fancy penthouse rather than us! Who do they think they are?" a woman shouts, and there are loud cheers of agreement before the crowd begins to push and bump against the glass display window.
Kame rolls his eyes. What will making such a fuss solve? Are these people really that retarded? They are shouting at a television screen, for Christ's sake. Kame doesn't hang around and wait for the cops to show up.
He jogs quickly up the street, which is more deserted than usual. The shouts and cries of the people are soon far behind him, and Kame breathes a sigh of relief. Such incidents were of the norm now, so for most of the time Kame will see random people start sprouting nonsense, and declaring their displeasure at the way the government was handling the situation.
It's like they have nothing better to do, he thinks.
He eventually reaches the small cluster of two-storey flats that were the budget type and super cheap. Kame doesn't exactly mind living there. It was more practical and secluded anyway. He strips his shoes and socks off at the genkan and walks in to see his dad kneeling right in front of the television, eyes wide and brows furrowed.
"How long have you been staring at that?" Kame asks and dumps his schoolbooks on the dining table, taking in the sight of his dad's crumpled form, hunched over like a man in prayer.
"Oh, welcome home, Kazuya,” his dad says without taking his eyes off the TV screen. "I made dinner for you. It's in the fridge. And you forgot your face mask today. Again."
Kame's eyes drift to the box of sterilised government issued surgical masks sitting on the countertop. For a clean-freak, he hated the masks with a passion. The feeling of his own breath bursting back at his face is revolting.
“Sorry," he says, but reminds himself to forget again, tomorrow.
"There's going to be a nationwide shutdown soon,” his dad says, and this time, Kame's ears perk up. "The major cities are in turmoil, and the number of sanctuaries the government erected are insufficient. I managed to get a Level Two pass for one of the shelters in Tokyo."
Kame raises a brow. "Level Two pass? Aren't those passes for doctors and researchers only? Citizens are supposed to get a Level One pass. Ours came in the mail yesterday."
"Never you mind,” his dad says. "But if you must know, you have to thank Taguchi-san."
Kame raises a brow. "Taguchi-san? You mean Junno's dad?"
"He's the one who helped get these passes for me. He is a doctor after all."
Kame is silent for a moment. "When are we leaving?" he asks, making a mental note to thank Taguchi later.
"I'm not sure yet. But as soon as I get the chance to slide it by my boss that we'll be taking a family vacation."
Kame raises his brows. "Why? Aren't we going to the sanctuary?"
"Of course we are. But it's best that we keep that a secret,” his dad says, and finally turns to face Kame. He looks terribly ancient, not like his dad at all.
"Why should we?" demands Kame, not liking the secrecy one bit. He then supposes that he might have sounded too harsh, and so adds quickly. "I'm just wondering because this is all just a little weird. Won't everyone get a place in the sanctuaries? So I really don't see the need to tiptoe around."
His dad sighs. "It's not that simple, Kazuya. People are getting restless, and there aren't enough places in the sanctuaries. There've been rumours flying around the office that people have been murdered for places at shelters. Besides, these are Level Two passes, which is more worth killing for compared to those useless Level One passes that does not guarantee a place in the sanctuary. "
Kame's face pales. "Dad, that's a little exaggerated."
His dad shakes his head and purses his lips, all authoritative and domineering. "Just keep in mind not to mention any of this to anyone at all."
Kame frowns but doesn't retaliate. His dad is back with eyes glued to the anchorwoman announcing the location of the sanctuaries.
Kame glances at the stack of files heaped on the couch, and he makes out a passport-sized picture of himself clipped to what he assumes were his medical records and identification papers.
This is stupid, he sighs internally. An absurd thought that the government was just doing this to put the people against one another crosses his mind.
"Don't just hang around in your school clothes,” his dad says suddenly. "Go wash up, and remember to use the disinfectant spray on your clothes before you chuck them into the washing basket."
Kame grunts in reply and slouches off to his room. Life was supposed to be easy. He wanted his life to be easy. He'd graduate from school, then get some crappy office job and die peaceful and alone. Kame doesn't want a wife. Girls never really were an interest to him. Because of this, Taguchi says that someone probably dropped him when he was a baby. Kame reasons that it's probably because girls are just annoyingly boring in general. Taguchi would call him gay, but Kame says he isn't.
Kame is about to enter the bathroom when there are several sharp raps on the front door before it is pushed open.
"Good evening," says a cheery voice. Kame cringes at the sight of the woman that steps in, horn-rimmed glasses glimmering under than dim light. "You forgot to lock your door. I hope you don't mind me barging in like this." says the woman, all smiles and exaggerated politeness. She has one of the face masks pulled down to her neck, revealing sparkly lips and slightly smudged foundation at the base of her chin.
She grips tightly onto a meter long steel prod, with weird dials and meters at one end as though it were her lifeline. "It's Monday 1930 hours. Time for your routine check. Please hold out your hand, Kamenashi-san and Kamenashi-kun.” She smiles sickeningly sweet at Kame, who very slowly, walks up to her, his features barely masking the irritation bubbling beneath.
The pain is quick and sharp. Kame is almost used to it, but it doesn't mean he likes it. The woman removes the prod from Kame's wrist, where a small pinprick of blood is visible. "Well, it looks like you're all nice and healthy,” she beams at him.
His dad is fine as well, and Kame releases a breath he didn't realise he was holding.
"That's all for today! I'll see you again this Wednesday for another check up,” the woman says, and with a slight bow, turns to leave.
"Wait a minute, so soon?" exclaims Kame, indignant. "Isn't it supposed to be once a week?"
The woman adjusts her tweed skirt with a plastic smile on her face. "We can't be too careful now can we?" She bows mechanically and turns to leave. "Oh, and do tell your neighbour to give the Health Department a call as soon as possible,” adds the woman over her shoulder. "She's been avoiding checkups for days, and I'm afraid I'll have to send in the hazmat team if she tries to skip out on us once more. Have a good night."
Kame can't help but wonder because he's sure his neighbour hadn't left her apartment for days.
///
Kame goes to bed that night with the prospect of being kept awake all night long. He remembers his earplugs, since the lady downstairs screams her prayers out every night into the wee hours of the morning. The only thing Kame prays for is a dreamless sleep, and perhaps for everyone to just shut the fuck up for one night so that he doesn't feel, and look like a sleep-deprived insomniac the next morning.
He supposes he must be asleep now, because his dreams are as usual a violent blend of indistinguishable colours and lights. Kame vaguely sees Taguchi's grin that grows larger and large until it swallows his face whole. Then he sees his dad getting married again, to a very sleek looking plasma TV that repeatedly blasts out reports on the red plague wiping out the entire Tokyo metropolis. Somewhere in between he sees his late mom calling out to him. She's just as pretty as he remembers, but Kame doesn't like the way she shakes him until he's sure he can feel his brain rattle around inside his head.
He is awoken to the sensation someone shaking him violently and wonders if he's still dreaming, and Kame instinctively lashes out. He blinks the sandy feeling out of his eyes and the hysterical face of his dad swims into focus out of the dark.
"Get up,” he hisses, and Kame is startled by how ragged he sounds. "We have to go. Now.”
Kame barely registers the urgency in his dad's tone when the rare silence of the night is completely shattered by a siren that echoes and reverberates around his head, making the world shake.
"Dad, what the hell is this?" Kame yells over the repeated call of the siren. It was like the school bell, only ten times more annoying.
"It's the evacuation siren,” his dad replies, and drags Kame out of bed. "Get dressed. Quickly."
Although his mind is still groggy, Kame snatches up his jeans and a plain white tee and fumbles with the buttons and buckles. Kame feels the back pocket of his jeans for his phone while sprinting to the living room, which is pitch black, illuminated by a strange red glow from the television screen.
Kame halts and stares at the TV. Had his dad been out here all night? But the scrolling message in bold black words against the bright red background sends an involuntary chill up his spine.
"PLEASE EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY AND PROCEED TO YOUR DESIGNATED SANCTUARY. THANK YOU."
The ambiguity of the statement makes his blood run cold. Why did they have to evacuate? Did they find out something about the plague that they weren't telling the public? Was it airborne or something?
"Kazuya!"
Kame grits his teeth and races out the door to see his dad already starting up the car. Kame sprints toward the rickety steel stairs, but he has to stop when the door of the apartment next to his flies open.
Kame curses and zips past the space between the metal railing and the open steel door, but he has to stop again at the top of the stairs because of the smell. Kame gags and nearly retches, his body curling over as he coughs violently.
Pressing the back of his hand to his face, Kame turns around. Whatever it was smelled like a cross between meat being left out to rot for days and decaying garbage. The stench was coming from the open door to his neighbour's apartment. Why hadn't he noticed the smell before?
His dad's yells fall upon deaf ears as Kame inches closer to the open door.
It's pitch black inside and the smell of rotting flesh just gets stronger as he approaches it, so much so that Kame daren't breathe.
"Help me,” says a voice, and Kame cringes at how wet and mushy it sounds, as though the person was speaking underwater.
Kame smells it before he sees it, because the putrefying smell increases tenfold when what looked like a walking piece of meat hobbles brokenly out of the apartment. Kame immediately regrets the sharp intake of breath that follows this as he breathes in lungfuls of the saturated stench.
Kame falls flat on his rear, and scrambles backwards frantically because he doubts whether the thing before him is human.
Kame doesn't really talk to his neighbour, but he knows that it's some old lady with no children. He always tilts his head politely when he sees her, and she will sometimes smile at him, papery skin crinkling into deep wrinkles at the corner of her toothless mouth and squinty eyes.
Whatever it is, right now Kame doesn't trust his eyes, because if the person in front of him is that old lady, then it looks as if something had ripped half her jaw off and tore scraggly holes into her bare chest and legs. He then notes the flies buzzing out of the open apartment and wonders how long she had been cooped up in there.
She takes a wobbly step forward, and a piece of flesh from her arm falls off, dropping to the ground with a sick splattering sound. Kame yelps and finally shoots unsteadily to his feet, gripping the steel railing behind him for support. She's completely naked, and Kame can barely make out the flecks of rotting skin under all the blood.
The wailing siren in the background just adds to the horror scene before him, and if Kame wasn't so terrified by the scene before him, he'd probably laugh at how stupid this is, like some third rate zombie movie.
"Kazuya!"
This time someone yanks him by his collar and half drags him down the steps and across the parking lot. "What the hell were you standing there for?" his dad yells and throws Kame roughly into the passenger seat. Kame barely has time to pull his feet in before the door slams shut.
His dad is next to him in seconds, and the next thing Kame registers are the trees and buildings blending into a blur as the car races down the deserted street at breakneck speed.
He can still smell the stench sticking to him, and hurriedly clamps a hand down on is mouth before he throws up. The first thing he thinks is what the hell was that? What the hell happened to her? How could NO ONE have noticed the smell?
"Kazuya, next time when I say move, you do not stand there like some petrified idiot,” Kame's dad breathes, and Kame realises that his hands are shaking on the steering wheel. "She could've touched you." he adds, voice hoarse.
It is awhile before Kame finds his voice. "Dad, what the hell was that?"
“Nothing," replies his dad, and this sends a jolt of anger straight up Kame's spine.
"What do you mean 'nothing'? Don't fucking say that was 'nothing', because I know you know something that you aren't telling me,” snarls Kame, temper barely kept at bay. "Tell me what the hell's going on."
His dad is leaned forward, knuckles white from his death grip on the wheel and his chest practically sticking to the steering wheel, eyes glued onto the road. "I have a friend. He works in the local hospital. He told me, a few weeks ago that the plague evolves fast."
"And that's supposed to explain what I saw back there?" Kame says when his dad doesn't continue. "SHE WAS LITERALLY DISINTEGRATING."
"And that's why, when I say move, you'd do well to listen."
The dull wailing of the evacuation siren stops, leaving Kame's ears ringing.
There is a tone of finality in his dad's voice that stuns Kame into reluctant silence. Kame hates not knowing. He hates being kept in the dark, especially about this. This was exactly like the time when his dad kept it a secret from him that his mom was dying. Kame was the victim then. But this, this was another matter entirely, because what he saw would forever be engraved into his corneas, because saying 'engraved into his mind' is just too sappy and clichéd.
Kame bites his bottom lip, because he now realises the seriousness of it all. He can't slink back into the safe cocoon that is obliviousness, because he's been forcefully wrenched out, and the reality before him is frightening.
Kame blinks and releases a shuddering breath.
He actually is scared.
Taguchi may have been right all along.
Phase 1: Mammon
Kame is close to throwing his phone out the car window.
Traffic is bumper to bumper along the main highway leading out of the town, and shouts of frustration and anger mingle with the cacophony of repeated beeps from car horns.
Kame sticks his arms out the window, glaring at the infuriating 'no service' in bright glowing letters on his phone screen. "Come on…" Kame pleads, and with the way he's focusing on the oblong screen was as though by some super mind-control power he could perhaps make one bar of service appear.
"Stop it Kazuya,” his dad says, voice muffled by the surgical mask covering half his face. "Put your mask on and sit still. It's likely that there won't be any service until the lockdown is called off."
"I have to get in touch with Taguchi,” Kame says obstinately while tugging on the stuffy mask. "He could be anywhere."
"He's fine. As long as he has the correct papers, it's all good,” replies his dad, and Kame's eyes slide automatically to the brown envelope on the backseat. It was hard to believe that a few sheets of paper were practically his lifeline now.
The car jolts to a stop again, and Kame's dad growls out a curse, craning his neck to look over the chain of vehicles before him. "Crap, this is bad. The line isn't moving at all- WIND UP YOUR WINDOW."
Kame jumps at the sudden urgency in his dad's tone, but manages to hurriedly jam his finger onto the button. The glass shoots up just as a hand smacks onto it's smooth surface, making Kame yelp in fright.
It is a man. He's covered in black and red splotches and lesions that ooze out yellowing pus. The man's swollen, cracked lips move, and Kame doesn't need to hear to know what he's trying to say. He scrabbles weakly at the window, and leaves flecks of flesh and blood on the glass before proceeding to yank fruitlessly at the door handle, his face contorted in such a way that Kame instinctively backs away.
The man turns bloodshot, begging eyes onto Kame and his dad, who are both stiff in their seats. He makes a weak gesture at the door and continues tugging at the handle. His lips move again, and Kame swallows a lump in his throat. The man just repeats his actions in a stop-start fashion, pleading at them to open the door.
Kame's entire being is stiff, but he gulps and shakes his head mutely. The man stops and stares at Kame, seemingly unable to understand. Kame just shakes his head more forcefully.
There is a moment of complete silence, and the man gives the door handle a few more futile tugs. Finally, without another glance, he limps away to the next car where he brokenly repeats his previous movements.
Kame watches transfixed, because this is exactly like a scene out those zombie apocalypse movies. At once, he remembers the stench of his decaying neighbour and wonders if this man would eventually end up like her. "He was just asking for help." Kame says suddenly, his voice quiet. "And we are leaving him to rot by the roadside."
"When it comes down to this, I suggest you use your common sense and close your eyes to everything else,” says his dad in a calm tone. "I don't want to leave him like that, but there isn't anything we can do. We can't help him and risk getting infected."
"So you're finally admitting you actually knew the plague can do that to a person?" Kame says in a subdued tone as he watches the man hobble away from the red car in front of them to the next. It was pointless. No one would help him at all. "Why did you keep it from me?"
"Kazuya, there was no reason for me to scare you. Besides, there shouldn't be anyone that severely infected out and about. Either they slipped through the system or the plague is maturing faster than before. "
"That isn't he point,” Kame sighs.
"Would it have changed anything if I told you? All I would have done was frighten you. But right now it should be okay. We will probably be in the shelter long before more of the infected reach that terminal stage.” his dad replies in such a way that Kame has to swallow the scream that builds up at the back of his throat.
His dad is completely missing the point. Did this scare Kame? Of course it did. It wasn't only the fact that his skin would eventually rot off, and send the stench of liquefying flesh into the high heavens, but it was mainly the pitiful state of those poor people that really and truly scared him.
They were helpless, and their faces - fuck - those sunken, glassy eyes and flaky skin dappled in lesions and bloodied boils. Fine, he admits that he's kind of vain, and he isn't completely blind to not know the blatant fact that he's actually pretty. It had always been a silent understanding on his part - that he was one of what people called 'pretty boys'. Kame gulps. That's the first time he has ever admitted it so openly, even though it's been in his mind, he's finally used the taboo 'p' adjective on himself that would make even Taguchi cringe if used to describe a guy.
Worst of all, Kame realises that he isn't ashamed of it. On the contrary, he actually likes the fact that he looks pretty. Hell, he'd been mistaken for a girl one time too many in junior high, and Kame still likes it when people compliment him on his slight feminine looks (but he is still a guy).
He chokes down a bitter laugh. God, if Taguchi could hear his trivial thoughts at this moment he'd probably laugh his ass off with how gay he actually sounds.
Kame pulls down the visor and he stares into the face of the person reflected, whose eyes are wide and terrified-looking, dark circles melting into pale skin around the bridge of his nose. He keeps his hair long, and the brown locks dust thin shoulders, which join onto a lean and slim body.
Kame never realised how ridiculously vain he actually is until this moment, because he thinks that 'I'd rather die than look like them.'
///
When they finally arrive at their designated sanctuary compound, the number of people astounds Kame completely. It's almost like the time he and Taguchi went to the GazettE concert, where the sheer number of fans crowded around Tokyo Dome was enough to form a sea of people stretching from the dome entrance to the roads surrounding it.
It's just that this time, it is twice as bad.
From his seat, Kame can barely make out the strange dome-like building occupying what used to be Ueno Park, through the sea of people. It's clearly impossible to travel any further by car, because people and more people were pressed against each other as they made their way slowly toward the building.
Kame can't prevent his jaw from dropping, because everything - the cherry blossom trees, the museums, everything was gone. For the government to sacrifice a landmark as great and as beautiful as Ueno Park just proved how serious the situation actually is.
"This is bad. There's no way we can make it any further. Get the papers, and don't lose them." Kame's dad says, and unbuckles his seatbelt. It is then that Kame realises that they may be one of the very last to get in if they don't somehow force their way through the crowd.
Kame obediently reaches for the packet of documents on the backseat and holds it close to himself. Pushing the mask further up his nose, Kame pushes open the car door, which was rather difficult, seeing that he had to push away people who were pressed against it.
Even through his mask is tightly pressed to his face, the smell of the crowd - sweat, body odour, and unwashed clothes - almost chokes him. Kame stays glued to the car until his dad grips him by the wrist and tugs him forcefully through the throng of people. His face gets mushed into someone's back, as the wave of people shove and push against him from all directions, and Kame is sure someone just groped his ass. The only thing that guides him surely through the maze of people is his dad, who seems to know exactly where to go.
It is awhile before the crowd begins to thin slightly, but Kame feels as though he'd been walking for an eternity. The dome-like building is closer than ever, and Kame can see the entrances, which look like those metal detectors in airports, but with thick doors flanked by military personnel in hazmat suits, and several policemen in normal uniform but with gloves and gas masks on.
The crowd splits into several lines and Kame and his dad manage to slide into one without any trouble. Kame can finally wriggle his hand out of his dad's and flex his sore fingers.
"Don't move from your spot, and don't make eye contact with anyone. People here are on edge and desperate to get inside the sanctuary. Any wrong moves and you'll start a brawl,” says Kame's dad.
Kame grunts in reply, because it's just too tiring to nod. Behind him is some fat guy pushing against his back, and Kame doesn't dare move. The noise, god. It presses on him from all sides, and Kame resists the urge to dig his fingers into his ears. He notes the large number of military personnel patrolling the area and nudging people into their respective lines.
He cranes his neck, and catches sight of an old man being hauled out of the crowd, his wrinkled face covered in telltale blisters. Kame finds himself staring at the old man hard, waiting, waiting for something to happen - perhaps his arm might fall off or something - but nothing happens. Kame's eyes follow the man being dragged away until the crowd swallows the scene up.
"Please ensure that your identification papers and access passes are with you at all times. Remain calm while we confirm your placement at the sanctuary. For the safety of yourself and the public, please remember to keep the government issued masks on at all times including after being permitted entry into the sanctuary. Thank you.”
The computerised female voice that blares out of the two speakers at the top of the sanctuary cuts through the distorted shouts and cries of the crowd. Kame can't help but want to laugh at the how unfit it sounded, all calm and collected against the panic and confusion around him.
He doesn't know how long he has stood in line for, but finally he's the next person to be admitted. His dad takes the brown envelope and passes it to one of the guards at the entrance, who swiftly checks them. "Clear." Kame watches as the guard tosses the paper envelope into a large box filled with similar files.
"You. Look here." His chin is grabbed by a gloved hand, and he feels cold metal pressed to his face. "Don't blink."
It isn't until Kame's eyes begin to water with the effort of keeping them open that he finally hears a sharp beep, and the gloved hand releases his chin and pushes him to one side. "Clean."
His dad is also forced to stare into the retinal scanner, and Kame holds his breath. It feels like eons before he hears the familiar beep. "Clean. Proceed."
Kame and his dad are both pushed unceremoniously toward the entrance, which is heavily guarded. The metal doors are the last barrier between him and safety. Finally. Kame can't help but breathe a sigh of relief. He glances behind and takes is in the endless sea of bobbing heads and tired, worn faces. Just how many more people could this sanctuary hold?
"Hold it." says a voice just as Kame takes a step toward the open entrance, and Kame wants nothing better than to scream. His eyes water as the bright interior of the sanctuary almost burns his corneas, the peaceful, artificial silence within beckoning to him like a siren's song. He is so close. So fucking close, and now what?
The hand on his shoulder is rough and hard. Kame reluctantly tears his eyes away from the light and looks up to see a stern looking guard staring back at him. "Sorry sir, please step back."
"What is it? Why can't we go in?" asks his dad, and the frustrated wail that almost claws it's way out of Kame's throat is successfully stifled. Kame blinks a few times before he is sure that he can speak coherently without exploding.
"We are clean." Kame croaks. "We were scanned, and they said we were clean. Why, of all that is fucking holy, can't we-"
The guard just shakes his head and forces Kame to step aside. "Just move to one side please."
The remaining people who have yet to be cleared are forced to one side by military personnel, who keep them at bay with batons and tasers, much to Kame's horror. The crowd is parted like the red sea as a sleek black limousine with the glaring words 'ELITE' along with some strange barcode stamped on its hood in fluorescent ink roll to a stop directly in front of the sanctuary gates.
Some pot-bellied man with a red face and black suit steps out, followed by a woman dripping in diamonds. They half run toward the guards, chucking a sheaf of documents at them and gesturing for them to hurry up.
Kame is barely able to see straight, because the fury that explodes within him like raging hellfire burns whatever rational thought in his head to ashes. How dare they, is the first coherent sentence that almost spills through his gritted teeth. The obvious favouritism shown by the government is appalling, and the mere thought of the Elites being prioritised before the lives of the innocent citizens makes Kame want to retch in disgust.
The guards quickly scan the couple and they are permitted access into the safe embrace of the sanctuary.
"Hey! This isn't fair! We've been waiting for hours!" a man shouts, and his call is reciprocated by more indignant yells.
"You dirty government dogs! We were here first!" shouts another man, and Kame can't help but agree with him. The only thing holding him back from opening his mouth and offering the guards in front of him several choice words was his common sense. Kame isn't going to get thrown back into the sea of people, now shifting and blistering with yells and cries of anger and outrage.
"Thats it! I've had it with this crap. Let us through!"
The crowd crashes forwards like a tidal wave, and Kame plugs his fingers into his ears. The noise of the people explodes around him and rattles his eardrums. A guard yanks Kame and his dad toward the entrance, while the remaining military personnel holds the raging crowd at bay.
"Get in!" he yells, over the throng of noise, and Kame is just too happy to oblige.
He lets his dad enter the sanctuary first, because it's only the right thing to do, but before Kame can set his foot past the threshold, the doors slide shut without warning. It's like he's watching the metal plates shift and slam together in slow motion; his dad's shocked face is the last thing he sees before Kame is staring at his own stupefied expression reflected on the dull metal of the sanctuary doors.
A shrill female computerised voice slices through the air, "Maximum capacity reached. Sanctuary KU20061304 will now undergo the lockdown sequence. All military personnel, please proceed to the designated extraction points, thank you.”
It's chaos in mere seconds, and Kame barely has enough time to regain his composure and actually register the fact that HE'S OFFICIALLY SCREWED before the anguished wails of the thousands of people behind him slam into his back like a solid wall.
Kame is thankful (and surprised) that his reflexes are still in working order, because his mind is completely blank at the moment, but he's fast enough to save himself from the approaching stampede, instinctively bolting to the side of the sanctuary dome and away from the now closed entrance.
He's spared from being attacked head-on by the now hysterical crowd, but still has to push past people to actually escape the oncoming wave. It's difficult, and Kame squeezes his eyes shut and thrusts his arms before him, but that doesn't prevent him from being bumped into, left right and centre, wave upon wave of people tossing his thin body this way and that. Kame feels himself being flung around like a rag doll, and he desperately begs whatever deity is out there to just let him get out of this hellhole, when his head finally breaks the surface, and Kame finds himself falling face first onto rough bitumen.
Kame braces himself with his arms and ends up with several light scratches, but nothing that draws blood. He scrambles to his feet and is amazed at how far the sanctuary is from his current position. The crowd is a mass of bodies writhing and twisting, fighting to somehow get into the sanctuary. Kame backs away, his mind a complete mess.
What am I going to do? Is the first thought that slices through his muddled mind. Should he go home? Or perhaps find another sanctuary? Didn't his dad say there were many in the major cities? But wait, his identification papers were with the guards way up front, and he'd be damned if he had to fight his way back into the mass of stinking sweaty bodies.
Kame checks his back pocket, and thanks the high heavens that his cellphone is somehow still with him after that previous ordeal. Kame backs into the shadow of an overturned truck and pulls out the contraption, trembling fingers fumbling to unlock the screen. He almost cries with relief when he sees the singular bar at the top left hand corner of the screen (his dad was wrong, there is still service).
He scrolls down his list of favourites and stops at Taguchi's number, pressing the 'call' button and pressing the phone to his ear. It's centuries before Taguchi finally picks up the phone, and the panicky "Hello? Kame? Is that you?" that follows is like music to Kame's ears.
"Oh my god, Taguchi? Thank fuck you picked up,” Kame half cries into the speaker. The connection is bad and the annoying static keeps punctuating Taguchi's words. It doesn’t help that the mass of people around the sanctuary are practically screaming at the top of their lungs.
"-Kame? Are - okay? Where are - you?"
"I'm at the Ueno Park sanctuary, but it exceeded its capacity before I could get in." Kame yells over the noise. "Where are you? Are you in a sanctuary?"
"- I - not in - sanctuary - Shinjuku - can you - there?" Taguchi sounds almost hysterical, his high-pitched voice like stabbing needles into Kame's ear, but he pushes at the phone harder into the side of his face until the shell of his ear begins to sting.
"What? I can't -"
Through the thick curtain of static and Taguchi's stop-start sentences, Kame notes that there isn't any distinguishable background noise, as though wherever Taguchi is at the moment is completely silent.
"I'M - SHINJUKU - WAIT FOR- YOU."
The broken shouts are Taguchi's last words to Kame before the line breaks off and the familiar, yet annoying dial tone pierces his eardrum. Kame glares at his phone and resists the urge to snap it in half.
Pocketing the device, Kame takes a deep breath, which is greatly restricted by the stupid mask that sticks to his face, scratchy and uncomfortable with sweat and grime. He has to remain calm, because he's not dead yet, and fuck this stupid plague because he isn't going to let the fear get to him. Kame is going to make it out alive, and when he does, he'll go right back into the little sanctuary of his own; back to the sweet, soft embrace of obliviousness.
Taguchi said Shinjuku, didn't he? That was a good place as any to start at. He'd find Taguchi first, then worry about what to do next later. Part of him is relieved that at least his dad managed to get to safety. That was one thing less to worry about, and perhaps his hair won't all have turned grey by the end of this fucking pandemic with all the unnecessary worrying.
He inspects the many abandoned cars littering the dark roads, and cheers internally upon finding one with the keys left in the ignition. Muttering a quick apology to whomever the car belonged to, Kame slips in and turns the key.
"I can't believe I'm doing this."
The last time Kame touched a steering wheel was when he washed his dad's station wagon a week ago. It feels like centuries now, and Kame finds it hard to believe that this time last week he had been playing Tekken with Taguchi - the latter beating him into a pulp in almost every round and Kame not understanding why he plays it when he knows he's going to lose anyway - and now, here he is attempting underaged driving.
It's a shot echoing behind him that shocks Kame into stomping onto the accelerator, and his entire body lurches forward when he hurriedly retracts his foot and stamps on the break.
His ears are ringing, and he wonders why.
Kame blinks.
He realises that his ears are actually ringing with a dead silence that suddenly coats his surroundings like a thick, suffocating veil. A barrage of repeated gunshots followed by the sudden explosion of screams and howls of pain is the trigger that spurs him into slamming his foot down onto the accelerator, and the car shoots forwards down deserted streets.
He glances into the rear view mirror, and sees the crowd dispersing rapidly, running away from the sanctuary rather than at it. He then notices several bodies lying crumpled on the ground, and from this distance, they look like rag dolls, torn and disposable. The worst thing is perhaps the fact that he doesn't have to squint to see the military personnel turning their firearms upon the public without batting an eyelid.
They stand in a row outside the sanctuary, arms and weapons raised and finger continuous pressing down onto the trigger, firing relentlessly into the sea of people writhing and twisting against one another. It's too far to note the gory details, but just seeing people dropping to the ground one by one, is enough to make the bile bubble and rise in his throat. Kame's breath hitches, and he nearly slams into an overturned cab.
He needs to get out of here.
Kame has completely no clue where he's driving to, but all he wants to do is get as far away from here as possible. His body is rigid, chest pressed right up to the steering wheel and fingers cold and clammy with sweat.
They were shooting people down like livestock.
They did it without flinching.
All he hears is the hum of the engine as he drives at breakneck speed and the harsh, shuddering pants that seem to fog up the glass in front of him because Kame can barely see. He blinks furiously, trying to get the horrible images out of his head.
Taguchi. He needs to find him.
He finally slows to a stop in front of a broken down traffic light somewhere in the city. Kame is still shivering, but he quickly searches for a signboard. As Kame makes a right turn, the realisation that trying to find Taguchi in Shinjuku is like finding a needle in a haystack hits him like a ton of bricks. The number of 'what ifs' that bombard his thoughts is unhealthy, and Kame is close to hyperventilating.
His saviour arrives in the form of a text message which Kame fumbles to read.
It's from Taguchi and contains only one word.
///
From:
To:
Kabukichō
///
He drives to the train station (because he isn't going to drive down the deserted highway for frickin’ miles) and the number of people crowding around it doesn't reassure him in the least.
Kame pulls his mask higher up his face until it covers most of his nose. He has to look as inconspicuous as possible. Parking the car swiftly (he drives up the curb, and Kame doubts he'll ever pass his driving test, if he ever gets the chance to have one) Kame steps out of the vehicle and shuts the door before making his way into the station.
It's packed with people, old and young. They sit in little clusters, each and every one of them looking tired and drawn. Kame tries to walk toward the tracks without actually touching anyone. So far, he hasn't seen any more of the infected, and for some reason it scares him slightly.
He boards the very next bullet train to Shinjuku (he's surprised that the trains are still up and running) and chooses a corner close to the door and far from other people. So far, he's blending in rather well.
"Hey there."
Kame jolts violently at the sudden tapping on his shoulder, and spins around to come face to face with a girl with striking neon blue hair. It burns his eyes.
Kame blinks a few times, this time it's to remove the floating blue spots that erupted before his vision. The girl isn't wearing a mask, and unlike many people in the rattling train, she's smiling from ear to ear.
"Hey there." she repeats, and Kame notices the Earpods that dangle from one of her ears. The loose earbud hangs in front of her checked sweater that clashes horribly with her disgusting hair. "Are you travelling alone?"
Kame has to gulp a few times before answering, his voice muffled by the thick surgical mask. "Y-Yeah. I am.”
"Cool! Can I tag along?"
The girl grins and Kame makes a mental note of her thirty lip rings and the fifty tongue studs.
No, you sure as fuck can't, you freak.
"Sorry, but I really prefer to be on my own." he answers, as politely as possible.
The girl isn't fazed by his cool rejection and pouts cutely. Kame nearly winces at the fugly duck face that is thrust before him. She was too close, entering a very sacred, bubble wrapped space of comfort: his personal space. Kame leans away and the ‘Kame Glare’ - as Taguchi calls it - appears.
"Look, can you please just… Oh I dunno, like stay away from me?" Kame snaps. He doesn't mean to, but the last thing he needs is some crazy blue haired, pin cushion tearing away what little 'Kame-space' he had left.
Despite everything he has seen, the madness, inhumanity, Kame is still glad that his ability to shoot his mouth off is still intact.
"Aren't you just the sourpuss,” she chortles. "Afraid I'll infect you or something? Now aren't we all?"
Kame sighs. "I didn't say that, but since you put it that way, then yeah. I am." says Kame, his tone laced in sardonic sarcasm that for some reason makes the girl grin wider.
"I like you. You got spunk, kid,” she laughs, which earns her several glares from the tired people seated around. "I've been looking for a travelling partner that doesn't resemble someone on death row, which, as you can see -“ her tone drops low to a whisper. “- includes almost everyone in this dump."
Kid? Kame's brows twitch in annoyance.
"Well, how 'bout we do the cheesy thing people normally do when they meet new friends and introduce ourselves." She claps her hands together and Kame can't help but compare her to the smiley Taguchi. "Hi there, stranger, I'm Toda Erika. 26 years old and a Third year Med student at Tokyo U (Kame's jaw falls open at this) and am currently not sick!" She finishes her little speech with a flourish before staring at Kame expectantly. "Your turn, stranger."
Kame debates for awhile before answering. "Kamenashi Kazuya. Third year high school student. I'm not sick."
"You sure are boring." says Erika, her heavily mascaraed eyelids dropping low as she scoffs. "Have more gusto when you speak, why don'tcha!"
"You're crazy,” says Kame, finally pulling down his mask because the feeling of his breath blasting back at him is really getting too much. "How can I possibly in this kinda situati- Why are you looking at me like that?"
Kame instinctively backs away because Erika's eyes are sparkling rather dangerously as she scanned his naked face. It's only when Kame snaps his fingers in front of her face that she is pulled out of her trance.
"Oops, sorry." she laughs. "I was just surprised. I though you were a guy - I mean, You certainly look like one. Well, before you showed your…" Erika makes an awkward dismissive gesture at him. "…face. But in my defence, you definitely have no boobs." She stretches to and probe Kame's chest, making the latter let out an indignant squawk and slap her hands away. "I guess some girls are just flat-chested-"
"I am a guy, you moron,” Kame hisses, his face flushing rapidly, much to his horror. He doesn't mind people complimenting his feminine looks, but not mistaking him for the freaking opposite sex.
Erika eyes Kame carefully again. “Hm," she says, her eyelids dropping low which Kame notices are painted a violent blue shade to match her ridiculous hair. "Did you get plastic surgery or something? 'Cause you look like a girl,” she deadpans, and Kame just blushes further in embarrassment.
"Fuck off,” is the most intelligent response he has, and he turns away, exasperated but somewhat refreshed. Having a normal conversation with someone who isn’t so pessimistic about the current situation is rather liberating, and he felt something akin to normality return to him.
"Ah!" says Erika suddenly, and Kame feels hands patting him comfortingly. He turns back to see Erika staring at him with a motherly expression that makes his insides freeze up. "I completely understand now." she sighs. "Don't worry, I won't judge you. I have friends that are gay too-"
"I'm NOT gay!" Kame squawks, eyes widening is horror. "Shut up already!"
Erika just laughs, and ignores the close to murderous looks being thrown at her by the many tired and worried passengers.
Kame is kind of worried whether he'll be able to make it out of here alive at all. Perhaps he should have just taken the stupid highway.
-> part 2