WELL: Chapter 8

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Shinobu collapsed three days later.

When Taki came to inform him, Ryousuke was inside the back storeroom of the shoe shop, reading a paperback he'd picked up from a nearby bookstore under the light of a candle. He spent his days idly, locked away inside the store. The offer to help with inventory organizing had been retracted by Tamura himself—“Ibuki says he prefers to work alone,” he’d said—and Ryousuke had been genuinely relieved. He kept thinking he ought to be doing something, but he had no idea what that something should be.

Out of sheer boredom, he'd even tidied up the shop. He’d sorted the men's shoes by size, but not a single resident had come by asking for any. Then again, he spent most of the day holed up like a mole in the storeroom, so even if someone had stopped by, he might not have noticed.

Once, he tried showing his face at the excavation site, but all he could do was sit and watch. The looks he got from the others were cold. Just then, a half-rotted corpse was dug up, and the stench made him vomit. That only made him more of a nuisance in their eyes. Since then, he hadn’t gone near the site.

At that first assembly, he realized just how little he’d managed to fit in here. He’d tried to find some kind of connection, but there was nothing. He couldn’t join in the digging like Shinobu, and aside from Ibuki, he hadn’t helped anyone with anything. …No matter what it was, his leg always got in the way.

For now, he still had the excuse of being injured. But that wouldn’t last forever. If it didn’t heal, the fact that he couldn’t do anything would definitely become a bigger problem. He’d tried walking several times, frustrated by the uselessness of his right foot, but every time he took a step, the pain was so intense it knocked the air out of him. It never got any better. Sometimes, out of irritation, he’d kick the shoes scattered around the shop, venting his frustration—but eventually he gave up. So what if the people here didn’t like him? He’d still get food. He could still survive.

After coming to that conclusion, he stopped pushing himself. He tried reframing it as a stroke of luck—being exempt from the nasty job of digging up corpses. The thought still left a faint lump in his chest, but mentally, it made things easier.

When he first heard that Shinobu had collapsed, the first thing that flashed through his mind was: Who’s going to help me get to the toilet now? Then came the issue of fetching water every morning and evening. Without water, he couldn’t wash up or brush his teeth. Life would quickly get difficult.

“We were carrying rubble together. Then, all of a sudden, he dropped what he was holding. Just as I was telling him to watch it, he collapsed. We tried shaking him, but he wouldn’t open his eyes, so everyone panicked and carried him to Akatsuka’s place since it was the closest. But… it looked like he was just sleeping.”

Taki sat down next to Ryousuke and described the situation, gesturing with his hands as he spoke.

“Apparently, he hadn’t slept in the past three days. Everyone figured it was just sleep deprivation and decided to let him rest. He’s probably still snoozing away at Akatsuka’s. Turns out, he’s kind of the sensitive type who can’t sleep unless he’s got his own pillow?”

Sensitive was probably the word least associated with Shinobu. Ryousuke had noticed the redness in his eyes over the last two days, but he hadn’t realized the guy hadn’t slept. Shinobu always went to bed later than him and woke up earlier.

“Tamura-san said he’ll probably be fine once he gets some proper sleep, but he also told me to let you know, Ryousuke.”

It was clear that Tamura considered him and Shinobu a pair. If anything happened to Shinobu, Tamura would always come to tell Ryousuke. He didn’t need to go that far—but he was always painstakingly considerate. It could be a little annoying at times, but Ryousuke knew it came from a place of sympathy, which made it hard to say outright, That’s enough, really. It was kindness, after all. Overbearing, but sincere.

Even after he finished speaking, Taki didn’t get up to leave. His face was shadowed; he didn’t look like someone just slacking off under the pretense of casual talk.

“I’m in real trouble right now,” he said, ruffling the back of his head and sighing. “But promise me you won’t tell anyone, okay?”

His serious face made Ryousuke nod. “Yeah.”

“Two days ago, Ibuki started talking to me a lot. He’s got a rough personality, right? The only one he really gets along with is Tamura-san. I mean, I talk to him a bit more than the others since I’m in charge of distributing food. So yesterday, he calls me over, says he has something serious to talk about—and out of nowhere, he tells me to ‘join him.’”

Taki’s voice dropped to a whisper.

“He’s really planning to attack the Matsui department store underground. He said before the attack, we’re going to send over poisoned water to thin out their numbers. Told me to come with him.”

Ryousuke felt a chill down his spine. He remembered the bloodshot eyes and frenzied speech Ibuki had at the assembly. If anyone would go through with it, it was him.

“I’m scared, man,” Taki said, voice trembling. “Ibuki’s dead serious. I can see it. If this keeps up, I’m gonna get roped into being an accomplice.”

Ibuki’s mantra of “survival of the fittest,” repeated so often it became almost casual, suddenly took on terrifying weight. It was now clear that, to him, it justified indiscriminate murder.

“Tell Tamura-san,” Ryousuke said without hesitation. It was the first thing that came to mind.

“Ibuki seems to respect him, right? If Tamura-san talks to him, maybe he’ll change his mind.”

But instead of agreeing, Taki shook his head violently, his face pale.

“If I do that, it’ll be obvious I ratted him out. Maybe not right away, but he’ll hold a grudge—and if it’s worse than that, if he really snaps… I might get killed.”

Ryousuke understood the fear all too well. He felt the same way. Whether you resisted Ibuki or obeyed him, either path was terrifying.

“Going against him scares me. Following him scares me. I don’t want either. What the hell am I supposed to do…?”

Taki was nearly crying. Ryousuke couldn’t blame him. He was a target too—Ibuki had practically branded him a burden. If he got involved now, things might get even worse. Letting Taki deal with it alone would’ve been easier, sure—but Ryousuke couldn’t abandon one of the few people he could still call a friend.

“You just have to think,” Ryousuke said. “Think of something. There’s got to be a way out.”

“I’ve been trying since yesterday, but my head’s a mess…”

The two of them fell silent. Neither knew what to do. Tears welled up in Taki’s eyes.

“He said he’s going to Matsui’s the day after tomorrow. I heard him tell Tamura-san he wants to go again for diplomacy, that he’ll bring me with him. I… I don’t want this. I don’t want to kill anyone…”

If they couldn’t come up with something, Taki would end up carrying a plastic bottle full of poisoned water into the underground store.

A plastic bottle—Ryousuke suddenly had an idea.

“That’s it! The bottle!”

Taki lifted his head.

“It’s just a PET bottle, right? Then all you need to do is find a matching one and switch it out when he’s not looking. He’ll never know.”

Ryousuke placed a confident hand on Taki’s shoulder.

“First, you have to ask Ibuki to show you the poison bottle,” Ryousuke said. “Then find a matching PET bottle. After that, switch the poisoned one with regular water—and take the clean one to them instead. Even if no one dies, Ibuki won’t realize it was switched. He’ll just think the poison didn’t work or something.”

Taki’s face lit up instantly.

“Y-Yeah, that might actually work!”

“Right? It’ll be fine. I’m sure it’ll work.”

Suddenly, a loud rattling noise echoed. Taki jolted like he’d been electrocuted. For a moment, Ryousuke genuinely feared there might be a bug hidden somewhere in the store, and Ibuki had overheard everything. The banging on the door grew louder. Ryousuke crawled out of the storage room and cautiously peeked toward the glass door.

A tall silhouette.

He sighed in deep relief.

“Hang on a second,” he called out. The knocking stopped.

“Ah, Shinobu. Thank God… I’m seriously glad it’s just you.”

Behind him, Taki let out a breath of relief and checked his watch.

“I should get going. If I stay here too long, everyone’ll think I’m slacking again. Not like they’d be wrong though. Can I come back later, around evening?”

Ryousuke nodded. Taki left, passing Shinobu on the way out. Shinobu watched him go, then murmured with a slight delay, “I’m home.”

“I wasn’t feeling well during the digging, so Tamura-san told me I could take the rest of the day off…”

It was just past 3 p.m.—early to be back. Shinobu’s excuse was probably meant to cover for that.

“Taki told me,” Ryousuke replied. “You didn’t get sick, you collapsed from sleep deprivation. Try actually sleeping at night for once.”

“Ah, yeah… sorry…”

Shinobu looked down as he apologized. Ryousuke sighed. He would’ve preferred Shinobu had stayed resting at Akatsuka’s place. Coming back so early only meant more time together—which, lately, had begun to wear on him. True to his word, Shinobu never touched him, but he hovered at the closest possible distance, always watching with that gloomy face.

After making sure Shinobu locked the glass door, Ryousuke went into the storage room. Naturally, Shinobu followed, settling right next to him. He leaned in to peek at Ryousuke’s book, so Ryousuke blocked it with his hand out of sheer irritation.

“Ryou-chan, what were you talking about with Taki-san?” Shinobu asked, abruptly.

“Nothing. Just random stuff.”

Ryousuke didn’t look up from the book. The dim light made the print hard to read, so he shifted closer to the candle and laid down on his stomach.

“What kind of stuff?”

“It doesn’t concern you. Why the hell do I have to tell you everything I talk about with Taki?”

Usually, that would’ve ended it. But not today.

“Tamura-san told me… He asked Taki to let you know I collapsed, but when Taki didn’t come back, he wondered what you two were talking about. I didn’t know you and Taki-san were close.”

“I talk to people besides you, y’know.”

Shinobu bit his lip, glaring up at Ryousuke with wounded eyes.

“If you can talk to Taki-san, then talk to me too. I want to talk with you. It’s been three days and we haven’t said a single real word to each other. It’s not fair if you talk to him and not to me.”

That bitter tone grated on Ryousuke’s ears.

“There’s nothing to talk about. I don’t want to hear about the corpses you dig up. Whether it was a man or a woman, missing hands or feet—I’m honestly sick of it.”

“I—I won’t talk about the dead anymore,” Shinobu stammered.

Ryousuke let out a sudden, derisive laugh.

“What else do you even have to talk about besides that?” Ryousuke spat. “I can’t stand the way you just sit there and stare at me with those gloomy eyes.”

Shinobu’s lips trembled, his face crumpling like he might cry.

“Ever since I said I liked you… Ryou-chan, you haven’t spoken to me at all.”

“You ever stop to think why?” Ryousuke jabbed a finger right at Shinobu’s nose.

“You knew I had a girlfriend, didn’t you? I like girls. What part of being confessed to by another guy is supposed to make me happy? You’ve got that ‘I got my heart broken’ look on your face, but I’m the one stuck in this mess. My childhood friend’s gay, and even though it creeps me the hell out, I still have to keep him around. You’re an idiot. If you hadn’t said anything, I wouldn’t be looking at you like this now. You run your mouth without thinking and end up tightening the noose around your own neck, dumbass. If it weren’t for the world being what it is right now, I wouldn’t be talking to you at all. The only reason I let you stay around is because of how things are.”

As the words poured out, Ryousuke found himself enjoying it more and more. He didn’t know why. Something about that bowed head, that wilted posture, lifted him up.

“That’s right. If all this hadn’t happened, I would’ve told my dad to kick you and Sae out of the house ages ago. I never liked Sae, and you were just annoying…”

This was it—the perfect hierarchy that existed before the world had turned to sand. Shinobu was an illegitimate child, slow-witted, and except for his height, inferior to Ryousuke in every possible way. No matter how harsh his words, as the employer’s son, Ryousuke couldn’t be defied.

“But even if you say that… your dad and my mom aren’t here anymore.”

That voice—quiet, but cutting through the satisfaction like cold water—came from the one person who shouldn’t have been talking back.

“If none of this had happened, I probably never would’ve said I liked you either. I knew you always looked down on me. You weren’t wrong, and I didn’t care. But it’s not like before anymore. You used to live in a big house with impressive parents and all that, and yeah, you were smarter than me—but now nobody knows any of that. You and I are just seventeen-year-old guys. That’s all. We’ve got nothing.”

“Shut up! Just shut the hell up!”

Ryousuke knew. He knew it. He’d thought about it a million times. For Shinobu, maybe it was freeing—losing everything, starting from zero. But not for him. He’d been stripped of everything, brought down to zero with nothing to show for it.

“You’ve got nothing, Ryou-chan.”

Something snapped inside his head. He clenched his jaw and started grabbing anything he could reach—books, shoes, the curtain they used as a blanket—and threw them all at Shinobu. Shinobu didn’t say a word, no matter what hit him. The only sound in the room was Ryousuke’s ragged breathing.

“You’re not keeping me around out of kindness. You just can’t manage without me. You can’t go to the bathroom alone, can’t fetch water alone. Well, maybe you could, but crawling around in front of people would be too pathetic, wouldn’t it?”

It was the first time Ryousuke had ever felt this kind of fury—so overwhelming it made his body tremble. It was the first time he’d ever hated Shinobu this much, this thing he’d only ever pitied or controlled. Why did he have to suffer like this? Why did his heart have to be trampled too, not just his life?

“Just like you hurt me with those nasty words, Ryou-chan… I can hurt you just as easily.”

Tears welled up in Ryousuke’s eyes—tears of sheer frustration. Shinobu’s stiff expression melted into one of surprise, and when Ryousuke realized he’d been seen crying, he quickly dropped his head to hide his face.

“Ryou-chan… I’m sorry. I’m really sorry I said something mean. I didn’t mean it, I swear…”

Too late. Apologies wouldn’t fix any of this.

“I wasn’t gonna say it… I swear. I’m sorry. I was just jealous. When I saw you talking to other people, I got so mad—because you never talk to me anymore. I know you’ll never feel that way about me, Ryou-chan. I know I’m stupid, that I can’t do anything right, that I always get on your nerves. I know you like girls. But I… I like you. I’m not asking you to like me back—just don’t ignore me. I’ll do anything for you, Ryou-chan. So please, just be like before… stay with me, and let me talk to you.”

Ryousuke looked up. He grabbed the front of Shinobu’s shirt and punched him square in the face, watching those eyes go wide in shock.

“Just die already!”

His voice trembled, his fingers trembled. Still, he hit him. Three times—until his arm was too tired to swing again and he threw Shinobu away like something filthy. He curled up in a corner of the storage room, hiding his tear-streaked face in his sleeve. A moment later, he heard Shinobu stir. The door creaked open. He was leaving.

But within five minutes, it opened again.

“Ryou-chan… you go ahead and wash up first. I’ll stay outside for a while.”

Shinobu’s voice was soft. A bucket of water and a small washbasin were left at the door, like always. Since the confession, Ryousuke had avoided getting undressed around Shinobu at all costs—it made his skin crawl. Every time he washed, he made Shinobu leave the room.

And just like always, Shinobu obeyed.

Even alone, Ryousuke didn’t move. He didn’t want to touch anything that Shinobu had brought him. Twenty minutes later, the door opened again. Shinobu stood in silence for a moment, seeing the untouched water. Then, as usual, he took the bucket into the corner and started wiping himself down.

Ryousuke hadn’t cleaned himself, and that had been his choice. But seeing Shinobu do it anyway just made him angry.

“Um… Ryou-chan, I found something kinda cool today. While I was digging, I came across this thing buried under the rubble. I’m supposed to report stuff like this to Tamura-san, but I snuck it back here. It looks like an old handheld game, battery-powered. I figured you might be bored, always stuck here…”

It was so obvious Shinobu was trying to smooth things over. Even a casual word like “bored” felt like a slap—like he was saying, “You can’t work, so I brought you this.” Every word rubbed Ryousuke the wrong way.

Shinobu set the object down quietly behind him and stepped back. Ryousuke turned, snatched it up—some palm-sized plastic thing—and hurled it against the wall.

A hard crash. He hoped it broke. Shinobu didn’t move to pick it up. He just stared.

I hate this. I hate everything. I hate even breathing the same air. Just having him here makes my skin crawl. It’s like an allergy.

“Good eveniiiing~”

A knock at the door, followed by a familiar drawn-out voice. Ryousuke didn’t need to check his watch to know it was dinner time—and, sure enough, Shinobu rose to answer the door.

Peering out from the storage room, Ryousuke saw it was Taki with their food again.

“I wanted to talk to Ryousuke, is it cool if I come in?” Taki asked as he handed off the usual bread, trying to peek inside.

“He’s sleeping,” Shinobu lied without hesitation.

“Taki, come in.”

Ryousuke raised his voice sharply.

“Not sleeping, huh,” Taki muttered and slipped past Shinobu, who stood blocking the way.

“Is now a good time to talk about that thing?”

Taki said lowering his voice, likely because he was aware of the figure lingering behind them, Taki kept his tone cautious. Ryousuke, glancing over at Shinobu still standing in front of the storage room door like a ghost, barked sharply.

“I need to talk to Taki. You—go outside.”

Shinobu’s face twisted in a scowl, and he turned away with a sharp exhale.

“Didn’t you hear me?! I said get out while we’re talking!”

Gritting his teeth, Shinobu shot a glare at Taki and spun on his heel. But all he did was step outside the store, his tall silhouette still plainly visible through the glass door.

“Yeesh, Shinobu’s seriously pissed off…” Taki shrugged with exaggerated unease. “I always thought he was this slow, quiet type, but damn. Did I say something wrong?”

“It’s not your fault. Don’t worry about it.”

“You guys fighting or something?”

Ryousuke didn’t answer, and Taki, sensing he didn’t want to talk about it, let it go.

“So anyway,” Taki leaned in, keeping his voice low, “I went to see Ibuki and got a look at those bottles. There’s four of them—clear PET bottles, labels stripped. You know how bottle shapes differ slightly by brand, right? Ibuki seems like the type who’d notice stuff like that, so I asked him what they originally were. I thought he might get suspicious, but he just straight up told me—they were Coke bottles.”

Coke. Easy to find under normal circumstances, but now, with everything collapsed and no convenience stores to stroll into, who knew if they could even find one? Taki seemed to be thinking the same thing as he muttered, “Are there even four empty Coke bottles out there?”

“If anywhere, the dump. They’re not burning garbage, so if we dig around, we might find something. But with the deadline coming up the day after tomorrow... it’s tight.”

The dump didn’t just have household trash. Rubble from collapsed buildings had also been tossed there. Nothing was sorted. Trying to find specific bottles in that mess would be a massive undertaking. And there was no guarantee they’d even be there.

Taki groaned and clutched his head. “Guess we gotta do it anyway. I’ll go check the dump tonight.”

“But aren’t there lookouts posted at night? What are you gonna tell them? You don’t need to say you’re hunting bottles, but if they start thinking you’re acting sketchy, Ibuki’s bound to get suspicious.”

“Yeah… good point.”

They both fell silent, thinking. Ryousuke wished he could be the one to go, but with his leg in this state, it was out of the question. Still, he was secretly relieved to have a valid excuse not to root around in garbage.

As his gaze wandered aimlessly, it fell on the tall silhouette still pressed against the door. Then, an idea clicked.

“Let’s have Shinobu look for them.”

Taki turned to the glass door.

“Come on, that’s kinda harsh. Going through the dump in the middle of the night? And that area’s practically a graveyard now. If it weren’t for this situation, I wouldn’t go anywhere near it myself.”

Ryousuke didn’t say that was exactly why Shinobu was the best choice. Instead, he searched for something that would convince Taki.

“Shinobu’s good for this. He hasn’t been sleeping, right? Better to give him something to do at night than force him to lie down. Besides, Ibuki wouldn’t suspect him—he’s got no connection to you.”

“Even so... asking someone out of nowhere to go dig through trash for PET bottles? Will he even do it?”

“We can’t worry about what’s nice or not anymore. If we can’t pull off this bottle swap, people are going to die.”

Taki shut his mouth and looked down. What Ryousuke was saying was true—there was nothing to argue with.

“For now, let’s have Shinobu go look tonight. If it doesn’t work out, we’ll come up with another plan tomorrow. This is to save people’s lives. We can’t tell him the truth, but Shinobu… he’ll understand.”

Once Taki nodded, Ryousuke raised his voice. “Hey!” The tall figure hunched outside the door turned around. When Ryousuke gestured him over, Shinobu moved sluggishly inside. His expression wasn’t just sulky anymore—it was dark, shadowed.

“You done talking?”

“I’ve got a favor to ask.”

Shinobu’s expression shifted just a little. His eyes widened, almost surprised.

“What is it, Ryou-chan?”

His voice had the slightest bounce to it.

“I need you to go to the dump right now and find four large Coke bottles. And whatever you do, don’t tell the lookout guys you’re looking for PET bottles.”

Shinobu stared at him, but didn’t say “okay.”

“Why does it have to be right now? Can’t it wait until tomorrow? It’s already night. It’s dark out.”

It was a fair complaint. Ryousuke softened his voice.

“I don’t want anyone to know. But this is important, Shinobu. I have to get those bottles by tonight or something bad could happen.”

“What kind of bad thing?”

“I can’t tell you that. But they’re really, really important. Taki can’t do it—he’d get in trouble if anyone caught him. And I can’t do it with my leg like this. You’re the only one I can ask.”

Shinobu slowly dropped his gaze.

“I’m scared… going out alone.”

“I’m begging you. Please, go look.”

There was no response. Ryousuke was about to repeat himself when Shinobu lifted his head again. His voice was firm, flat.

“Okay. I just need to find four Coke bottles, right?”

“Yeah. Thanks. You’re really helping me.”

He said the words of gratitude, but inside, Ryousuke was grinning. He pictured Shinobu rummaging around the graveyard-adjacent dump in the middle of the night, and it amused him. Even after that awful fight, all it took was a little asking and the guy couldn’t refuse. That pathetic obedience was oddly satisfying.

“Go on, then. But they’ve gotta be Coke. Nothing else. If anyone asks what you’re looking for, don’t say PET bottles. Just bluff something. And even if you don’t find anything, be back by dawn, okay?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Sorry about this, Shinobu.”

Ignoring Taki, Shinobu just looked at Ryousuke and muttered, “I’m going now,” before stepping out with the candle in hand. Watching his back disappear, Taki muttered, “Man, that guy’s got a real attitude.”

“Right? He’s got a terrible personality. No charm, no brains.”

Taki grimaced. “Totally.”

“Well, at least he agreed to help. He can handle the bottle hunt, so help me think through the switch part.”

“Of course.”

The two of them discussed the bottle swap plan. On the morning of the departure, Taki would sneak the replacement PET bottles into his supplies and head to Ibuki’s place. Then he’d ask someone to call Ibuki outside, and while Ibuki was out, Taki would switch the poisoned bottles for his decoys and hide the poison deep in the house. Once both had left, Ryousuke would sneak into Ibuki’s place and dispose of the poison.

Once the plan was set, Taki balled his fists and struck a little victory pose. “Alright!”

“I feel like this is really going to work. As long as we find the PET bottles, we’re golden. I’m really glad I talked to you about this, Ryousuke.”

Maybe it was the sense of relief, but after that, the two of them chatted idly for a while. At one point, Taki said, “I’m still kinda worried about Shinobu, I think I’ll go check on him,” but Ryousuke stopped him, saying, “Better not draw attention to yourself.” That was just an excuse—what he really wanted was to leave Shinobu alone out there.

When the clock passed midnight, sleepiness set in. Taki had said he felt bad and would wait up for Shinobu, but he ended up falling asleep before Ryousuke. The cold seeped through even inside the store—outside, it must’ve been even worse. Imagining Shinobu digging through trash in that freezing dark made Ryousuke oddly pleased. “Serves you right for talking back to me, dumbass,” he muttered inwardly. Seeing Taki sleeping beside him reassured him he wasn’t alone, and with that, Ryousuke drifted into sleep.

He woke to a loud pounding on the door just past 6 a.m.—still that thick pre-dawn darkness he’d grown used to. At first the shock made his heart seize. He checked the time, then peeked through the crack in the storage room door toward the glass front, and exhaled with relief. He shook Taki’s shoulder, but the guy just grunted and didn’t open his eyes. Giving up, Ryousuke crawled through the store to unlock the door himself.

Without a word, a cold presence stepped inside. In the man’s hand were four large, grimy Coke bottles. Ryousuke was genuinely impressed—he actually found them. “Here,” Shinobu said simply, thrusting them toward him.

“Just put ’em in the corner.”

They were so filthy with dirt, Ryousuke had no interest in touching them. He crawled back into the storage room and gave Taki a hard shake.

“Oi, wake up.”

Taki groaned but didn’t stir, making Ryousuke click his tongue in irritation. When he looked back, Shinobu was standing directly behind him, silently staring down at the sleeping Taki.

“So Taki-san stayed here…”

His voice was low, accusatory.

“You two… slept together.”

“He passed out while we were talking. Oi, get up.”

Finally opening his eyes, Taki checked his watch and bolted upright.

“Shit, it’s already six-thirty? Crap!”

He scrambled in a panic but then suddenly froze, spotting Shinobu standing nearby.

“Ah… Shinobu…”

Apparently embarrassed that he’d fallen asleep after making someone else do the hard work, Taki gave a sheepish smile. Shinobu didn’t react—his expression blank as a noh mask—and Taki’s awkwardness only deepened. Ryousuke spoke up to break the silence.

“He found the bottles. Four of ’em. Spot on.”

“Oh man, that’s a huge help. Thank you!”

Taki stood and held out his right hand with a smile. Shinobu blatantly ignored it, stepping back without hesitation. The snub was so obvious that Taki’s smile faltered. Ryousuke smacked Shinobu’s calf, making his lanky body jolt slightly.

“He said thanks.”

Shinobu glanced down at Ryousuke, muttering a curt “whatever…” under his breath. With a strained smile, Taki packed the dirty bottles into a large paper bag and hurried out the door. As the food delivery guy, he had to pick up rations from Ibuki’s place by 7 a.m. and start distributing them to everyone.

As soon as they were alone, Shinobu looked down at Ryousuke.

“I didn’t do that for Taki-san. I did it for you, Ryou-chan.”

He crouched to Ryousuke’s level and reached out a finger, only for Ryousuke to slap it away.

“Don’t touch me with those filthy hands. Go to the well and wash yourself already.”

After driving off the filthy boy, Ryousuke returned to the storage room and crawled under the curtain. He had just begun to doze off when a cold hand touched his cheek, and he startled awake.

“Shinobu?”

Even without seeing his face in the dark, Ryousuke knew that cool, heavy-handed touch.

“Light the candle.”

The fingers withdrew, and with the flick of a lighter, the room brightened. Right in front of him was Shinobu’s face, watching him closely—his eyes were swollen, puffy and red to a shocking degree. Sure, anyone would be a little puffy after staying up all night, but this was worse than expected.

“What the hell’s with your face?”

“I was crying…”

Shinobu’s cracked lips barely moved as he spoke.

“It was scary… searching in that place. I was so scared, I couldn’t stop crying, the whole time…”

Tears welled up again from Shinobu’s swollen eyes and trailed down his cheeks.

“Ryou-chan… I told you, didn’t I? I said I don’t want to be alone. I told you over and over…”

He had. Again and again, Ryousuke had heard it—Shinobu clinging to him, terrified. But ever since the confession, he’d stopped believing it. He’d convinced himself the fear was a front, just an excuse to cling to him out of impure motives.

But now Shinobu, eyes puffy and raw, reached out and clung tightly to Ryousuke’s stomach as he tried to back away. He’d been told not to touch him. Yet it was as if, having braved the night alone, digging through trash to find PET bottles, Shinobu believed he had earned the right. He clung fiercely, though his fingertips trembled—whether from the cold water he’d washed in that morning or from lingering fear, Ryousuke couldn’t tell.

“I don’t want you to get close to Taki-san… I’ll do anything, I’ll do whatever you want, so please…”

What a selfish thing to say. Shinobu had been out in the world, meeting people, adapting to life here. Ryousuke, on the other hand, had no one. Just Taki and Tamura. And now this guy wanted to use his cheap possessiveness to claim even that meager contact for himself?

“Sure, being with you is convenient. But what am I supposed to do about the part of me that isn’t satisfied being with you?”

He pointed at his own chest as Shinobu looked up, startled.

“You only satisfy my day-to-day needs. That’s it.”

“I… I don’t get it.”

Shinobu’s face twisted in confusion.

“You’re not enough. Talking to you just frustrates me. Maybe we’ve never been compatible.”

“That’s not true. We can understand each other—if we talk more, really talk, then—”

“You’re an idiot.”

Ryousuke muttered it before he even realized it.

“How long have we been together? Ten years, right? Ten years at my side, and I’m telling you we don’t click. Can’t you see it? This isn’t something you fix with time. We weren’t made to match from the start, and I’m not interested in trying anymore. It’s pointless.”

“Don’t deny me.”

It wasn’t about denial. From the very beginning, from the moment they met, Shinobu had only ever been a thing to him. A convenient tool. Something useful. The very idea that this thing might try to stand as an equal was absurd.

“I don’t care if you hate me, Ryou-chan. Our bond won’t disappear. Even if I end up in hell and we’re torn apart, it won’t disappear.”

From behind his swollen lids, Shinobu’s eyes narrowed further. That clinging, murmuring tone filled Ryousuke with a vague but undeniable revulsion.

“There were people—my mom’s friends—who came to the house, and they’d always mistake me for your dad’s son.”

It came out of nowhere.

“That’s because you wandered around the house like you lived there. If someone knew my dad had a high school–aged son, of course they’d assume it was you.”

But Shinobu ignored his reply and continued speaking, like he was singing.

“Everyone always said we looked so much alike. That made me really happy. Some even said you and I looked alike, Ryou-chan. You always denied it, said we didn’t look anything alike… but I’ve always thought we did.”

The way Shinobu spoke, so laden with implication, made it impossible for Ryousuke not to sense what he was trying to say. Even so, he thought—No way. Something like that couldn’t possibly be true.

“I was born in June, and Ryou-chan, you’re October, right? So that means I’m the older brother.”

Shinobu said it with a smile, and Ryousuke felt a chill run down his spine. He swung his fist, but it cut through empty air—his servant, his thing, had dodged it.

“Don’t spout disgusting lies. Trying to get my attention with that crap won’t work. You really think my old man would ever have anything to do with your mother? With Sae?! No way in hell!”

But no matter what he said, the confident look on Shinobu’s face didn’t waver.

“It was my mom that Dad really loved. He married your mom to build the foundation he needed to become a politician, that’s all. He doted on me so much… I always felt sorry for you, Ryou-chan, since you had no idea.”

“Cut the bullshit!”

Even as he yelled, a storm of doubt roared through his chest. Shinobu, treated like family—coddled beyond reason for a servant’s son. His father, who tolerated the unreliable Sae without complaint. He’d always thought something was off. The sense of wrongness had piled up over the years.

“Mom and Dad made me promise not to tell anyone. Said I couldn’t ever let you know, or Mika-chan, or even your mom. But I don’t need to keep that promise anymore, right? They’re all probably dead now anyway.”

With lowered eyes, Shinobu calmly delivered the final blow.

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