Untouched by the Outbreak

As they approached the familiar streets of their town, Sachiko watched Ryo ease off the gas, guiding the truck through the narrow roads with careful precision. The sun had dipped low, casting long shadows that stretched across the street, making the once bustling town feel even more desolate.

She noticed how Ryo skillfully avoided hitting any of the zombies that wandered aimlessly in the area, their grey-skinned forms moving sluggishly across the road.

It was something she had gotten used to—Ryo's complete control over the undead. He didn't need to rush or panic. The zombies posed no threat to them, not with Ryo in charge. They parted lazily as the truck rolled forward, as if knowing they weren't allowed to touch him, Sachiko, or even the truck.

The town felt more like home with each return. The zombies roamed freely, but none dared come near their house. Ryo had built this strange sanctuary where the undead protected them, and she couldn't deny that, in a twisted way, it felt safe. Even as they passed by clusters of Striders and Brutes, their larger, more menacing forms patrolling the streets, Sachiko knew they wouldn't harm her.

Not while Ryo was in control.

She glanced over at him, the way his hands gripped the steering wheel with calm confidence, cigarette still tucked between his fingers as he steered the truck. Ryo had no fear. He moved through this world like it was his own, commanding the zombies, bending the horrors of the apocalypse to his will.

Soon, the familiar sight of their house came into view. Sachiko exhaled softly, the tension of the journey fading away. They were home.

Sachiko stepped out of the truck, feeling the cool breeze against her skin as she stretched her arms high above her head. The long ride had left her feeling stiff, and the brief moment of movement was a welcome relief. Her eyes scanned the familiar scene around their house—the sea of zombies, wandering aimlessly as if they were harmless citizens in a quiet town.

As always, the hulking Brutes and agile Striders patrolled the perimeter, their imposing forms creating an eerie sense of security. They never ventured too close to the house but always kept watch. It was a sight that would terrify anyone else, but to Sachiko, it was routine. These creatures, once deadly threats, were now guardians, thanks to Ryo.

She glanced over at him, still seated in the truck, finishing his cigarette. Despite everything—the undead, the apocalypse, the cold winter still clinging to the air—Ryo's calm demeanor never wavered. It was that same calm that made her feel secure in this world that had long since fallen apart.

Stretching her body once more, Sachiko let out a contented sigh. "Finally back," she muttered under her breath. Their home, surrounded by hordes of the dead, was perhaps the safest place left in this new world.

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Sachiko pulled out her smartphone, a relic of the old world she still found comfort in, and began recording the familiar scene. She captured the waves of zombies, the towering Brutes, and the agile Striders, moving as they always did in their eerie but protective formations. Some of the zombies shuffled near her, close enough to make any other human's skin crawl, but she didn't flinch.

They would never harm her—not under Ryo's control.

Her phone's camera followed the movement of Sayako as she gracefully exited the truck, her pale skin standing out against the dull gray of the dead. Sayako moved with an unnatural smoothness, her loyalty to Ryo unmistakable. Sachiko shifted her focus to the Strider zombies, recording their menacing forms as they regrouped with the others.

The Striders from the truck seamlessly joined the larger horde, melding into the organized chaos around the house.

As she recorded, Sachiko felt a strange satisfaction. Once, the idea of living among the dead would have terrified her. Now, it was just part of her life. A life that, despite everything, she had come to accept—and even, in her own way, appreciate. With Ryo by her side, she knew she was untouchable in this strange new world.

Sachiko watched Ryo start to unload the supplies from the truck, a task that looked tedious but important. She instinctively moved to help, but Ryo stopped her with a playful yet firm smirk.

"Go inside, prepare dinner, and take a shower," he told her, the smirk widening, hinting at what he expected for the night. Sachiko felt a warm blush rise in her cheeks, but she smiled back. She understood Ryo's desires without needing any further explanation. He always had that commanding presence, and she was happy to follow his lead.

"Okay," Sachiko replied softly, feeling a surge of excitement and contentment.

Her thoughts briefly wandered back to the abandoned clinic they had passed earlier. The place had given her more than just supplies—it had gifted her a new identity, at least in appearance. Ryo had let her take the doctor's coat that was left hanging in one of the old examination rooms.

While it wasn't really hers, she had claimed it as her own, slipping into it as if it were a forgotten part of her life she could now step back into.

With the doctor's coat draped over her arm, Sachiko turned and made her way inside their house. Her heart raced in anticipation, not just for the evening ahead but for the life she was now living. A life where, despite the world's collapse, she felt safe, cherished, and—most of all—alive.

Sachiko placed the clothes, dress, lingerie, and other items neatly in a corner, deciding that she would wash them tomorrow. Her thoughts drifted to the water situation—they still weren't sure if the tank would be fully usable by then. If not, she'd have to make a trip to the stream near their house, gathering enough water to get the job done.

At least the detergent and softener were already prepared, waiting to be used when the time came.

She sighed softly, glancing toward the bathroom, where a hot shower awaited her. Despite the post-apocalyptic world they lived in, these little routines of normalcy still brought her some comfort. Sachiko knew she could handle whatever the day threw at her, especially with Ryo by her side, watching over her like he always did.

Sachiko moved around the kitchen with a sense of purpose, preparing dinner for both herself and Ryo. She filled the rice cooker with some of the rice they had scavenged, adding just enough water and setting it to cook.

The rhythmic hum of the electric stove starting up filled the air as she opened a few cans of preserved food—sardines and vegetables—and sprinkled in some seasoning to elevate the flavor.

Next, she started on the soup, using some of the dried mushrooms she had found in their supplies. As the broth began to simmer, releasing a rich, earthy aroma, she grabbed a small skillet to fry some dried cuttlefish. The scent of the savory seafood began wafting through the room as the cuttlefish crisped up, the combination of flavors starting to blend perfectly.

Dinner was almost ready, and Sachiko smiled to herself, thinking of how Ryo would enjoy the meal after a long day. It was small moments like this that made their unpredictable world feel a little more like home.

Ryo worked diligently, unloading the supplies from the back of the truck and carrying them into the house, one by one. The room was already filled with an abundance of food—sacks of rice, countless cans, dried goods, flour, and seasoning packets, all neatly stacked and stored. As he looked around, the once-empty space now almost seemed too full, nearly overflowing with provisions.

Despite the crowded storage, Ryo smiled with a sense of accomplishment. Food was one thing he no longer had to worry about, especially rice. The bags they had scavenged would keep them fed for a long time. Among the items he'd brought back were various seeds—fruits and vegetables that, if planted and nurtured properly, would one day offer them fresh produce.

He felt a surge of anticipation, craving the taste of something fresh and organic.

Ryo then glanced out at the stream near their home, still partially frozen. Once it melted, he planned to capture fish from the stream, adding another source of food to their already impressive stockpile. Life might be difficult in this world, but moments like this gave him a sense of security and control—something few others could claim anymore.

Ryo moved to check the other room, which was stacked with bags of rice and the food he'd scavenged long before winter set in. He nodded in approval, satisfied that the stockpiles they had built up were more than enough. Then, his eyes fell on another corner of the room—shelves lined with canned beer, bottles of liquor, and wine. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

It was a luxury he rarely indulged in, but knowing he had it on hand gave him a sense of comfort.

His thoughts wandered briefly to his penthouse, where yet more supplies were stored. That place, filled with provisions, had once been his main base. Now, though, it felt distant—too far to consider visiting anytime soon. He could use it as a second base if needed, but for now, he was content here. The thought of making the long journey back didn't appeal to him.

This house had become home for the moment, fortified and well-stocked. The penthouse could wait.