Untouched by the Outbreak

Ryo had lost track of how many days had passed since winter began. Time had blurred in the endless cold, but it didn't matter. He didn't need to worry about supplies. The house was stocked to the brim with food and necessities, enough to last well beyond the harsh winter. Every room had something stored—canned goods, dried food, rice, even flour and sugar. They were safe.

The cold outside was biting, but Ryo found some comfort in knowing they wouldn't run out of power anytime soon. The solar panels on the roof weren't performing at their best, thanks to the low sunlight and the freezing temperatures, but the two large battery banks he had installed before winter were more than enough to keep things running. No power shortages, no blackout moments.

They didn't have heavy power demands anyway. The refrigerator was the only appliance running constantly, keeping their food fresh. The electric stove, rice cooker, and lights only drained energy when needed, and even then, Ryo kept things efficient. There was no sense in overusing anything—he had planned for this winter meticulously.

He stood in the kitchen now, gazing at the stove where the rice cooker sat. It had just finished making enough rice for the day. Next to it were canned foods and dried seaweed he had pulled from the shelves earlier. Time to make a meal.

The warmth inside the house contrasted with the frigid air outside. Ryo occasionally glanced out the window at the snow-covered town. His zombies were inside the nearby shops, sheltered from the cold like he had intended. They wouldn't roam out in the winter, not with how dangerous the ice and snow could be even for them. Zombies frozen in place, waiting for the thaw. He almost found it amusing.

Ryo smirked as he thought about the soldiers—if they dared to return during this brutal season. No squad could move fast enough in this weather. If they tried, he'd make sure they never made it back alive. The thought satisfied him. They'd be food for the zombies, and this time, there'd be no mercy.

He turned his attention back to the small heater on the table, knowing Sachiko was likely still warming herself by it. She's delicate in this weather, he thought. He admired how she had adjusted to this life with him, despite the constant danger and the strange reality they lived in. Sayako, too, was nearby, ever watchful as per his command.

The trio formed an unusual but effective team, their survival secured by Ryo's sharp instincts and preparations.

This winter wouldn't last forever. Ryo's mind drifted back to the beach idea. Once the snow melted, he'd make sure they had a break from the cold and monotony of survival. Fresh fish, the sound of the waves, and a new place to explore. It would be something different, something to remind them of life before all of this.

For now, though, his focus was on today. The snow continued to fall, but inside their home, everything was just as it should be—safe, warm, and well-stocked. Winter couldn't touch them here.

Ryo sat at the small table, quietly enjoying the warm meal he had just prepared. The hot rice, seaweed, and fried canned beef tasted better than he had expected. The hot noodles on the side, steeped in broth, brought a much-needed warmth to his body. He savored every bite, letting the taste of the food ground him in the present moment.

Beside him, Sachiko sat closely, the portable heater placed between them but almost forgotten. She leaned in, subtly pressing her shoulder against Ryo's arm, feeling the warmth from his body. She looked at him, smiling softly. There was something about these simple moments—despite the cold outside, despite the world beyond their home—that made her feel a strange kind of happiness.

Sachiko's presence was comforting. Though Ryo rarely showed any outward signs of affection, she could feel the protective aura around him, and that was enough. The way he had kept her safe, the way he managed everything from the food to their supplies, it made her trust him more than anyone she had ever known.

She glanced at his focused expression as he ate, his thoughts clearly occupied with something else—maybe the future, maybe just the meal in front of him. It didn't matter. She was content just being next to him. The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable; it was natural, like they had known each other for years.

Sachiko leaned her head lightly against his shoulder. "This is nice," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the heater humming nearby.

Ryo didn't say anything, but she noticed his glance toward her. A brief acknowledgment. He was always the quiet type, but in that moment, Sachiko didn't need words. His presence was enough.

As they sat there, finishing their meal, Sachiko couldn't help but feel a sense of peace. It was rare in this world, fleeting even, but in moments like this, she felt like everything was going to be okay. She had Ryo, Sayako was nearby, and they were safe. For now, at least.

Tomorrow, the cold and the world outside would still be there. But tonight, she could allow herself this small moment of happiness, tucked beside the man she had come to rely on.

Sachiko's voice broke the comfortable silence that had settled over the room. "Ryo... do you think this outbreak will end someday?" she asked softly, her eyes searching his face for any glimmer of hope. Her tone was curious but also carried a hint of concern, as if she was holding onto the small possibility that things could return to normal.

Ryo's expression hardened immediately, his usual stern, serious face giving nothing away. He put down his chopsticks, the sound of them hitting the plate breaking the moment. "Probably," he said, his voice low, measured. His gaze remained distant, his thoughts clearly elsewhere, somewhere darker.

"But..." Ryo paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as if weighing his next words carefully. "I don't want it to."

Sachiko blinked, a little surprised at his response. She leaned back slightly, her mind trying to process what he had just said. She had expected a different answer, perhaps something more optimistic. But this? Ryo not wanting the outbreak to end? It was something she hadn't anticipated.

Her curiosity piqued, but she also felt a chill run down her spine.

"Why?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper now, not sure if she was ready for the answer.

Ryo's eyes finally shifted to meet hers, his gaze intense and unwavering. "Because in this world, I can control everything. I don't have to deal with humans. No more betrayal, no more lies." He leaned forward slightly, his tone growing colder with each word. "In this world, I have power over the things that used to hunt us. Over the zombies, over everything.

There's no one left to challenge me."

Sachiko's heart raced at his words. It made sense, in a twisted way. Ryo had been through so much—she knew some of his past, the losses he had suffered. This world gave him something the old one didn't. Control.

"But," Sachiko hesitated, trying to find the right words, "what about the future? What about rebuilding... or finding others?"

Ryo shook his head. "There's nothing left to rebuild. No one worth finding. Anyone still out there would either want to take what we have, or worse. I don't care about the rest of the world, Sachiko. As long as we have food, supplies, and the power to control our own fate, that's enough."

Sachiko felt a strange mix of emotions—relief, knowing Ryo was committed to keeping them safe, but also unease. His detachment from humanity, from the idea of rebuilding, was so complete. Still, in a way, she understood. This world had stripped away all the pretenses, all the false hopes. It was raw, and Ryo thrived in it.

Ryo's voice cut through the air, sharp and cold. "The fuck should I care about them?" he muttered, his chopsticks hovering above his bowl. His tone was biting, filled with disdain. He didn't even look at Sachiko, his eyes staring somewhere far beyond, as if addressing some unseen enemy.

Sachiko felt a knot tighten in her chest at the bitterness in his voice, but she remained silent, letting him continue.

"Let's say this outbreak ends," he scoffed, setting his bowl down with a loud clink. "Then what? What do you think happens next? The world isn't going to suddenly hold hands and sing songs of peace." His gaze flickered to her, intense and piercing. "There'll be war. War between humans.

This outbreak already showed the truth—people don't care about anything but themselves. Their survival. Their greed."

Sachiko swallowed, absorbing his words. She knew what he meant—she'd seen the worst of humanity during the early days of the outbreak. Governments crumbling, people turning on each other, and the strong preying on the weak. It was chaos. The zombies might have been the catalyst, but humans? They had become the real monsters.

"Those who survive," Ryo continued, "they'll be fighting over scraps. Territories. Resources. Power. It'll be the same cycle. The weak will get crushed, and the powerful will take whatever they can." He leaned back, a grim smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"But now? In this world, at least, I'm in control."

Sachiko nodded slowly, understanding where Ryo was coming from. The outbreak had stripped away all pretense. There were no rules, no laws, just survival. And Ryo—Ryo had become something more than just another survivor. He had power, control over the zombies, and that put him in a unique position.

"The outbreak revealed everyone's true colors," Ryo muttered, his voice low but firm. "It showed me what humans really are. Selfish, violent, willing to betray each other at the first chance. And that's not going to change when this ends—if it ever ends."

He glanced at her, and for a brief moment, she saw the pain behind his hardened exterior. The betrayal he had faced, the loss of Aiko and Sakura, the brutality of the world had shaped him into who he was now. Someone who trusted no one, and who saw little worth in what humanity had become.

"I don't care about them," he said, his voice softening slightly but still firm. "I care about what's here, what I can control. The rest of the world can tear itself apart for all I care."

Sachiko reached out, placing her hand gently on his arm. "I understand, Ryo," she whispered. "I really do."

And she meant it. In this harsh, post-outbreak world, there was no room for idealism or false hope. All that mattered was surviving—and staying close to the few people you could trust. And for Sachiko, that person was Ryo. Even if the rest of the world burned down, she would stand by his side.

Ryo simply nodded, his eyes softening for just a moment as he glanced at her. Then, with a sigh, he pushed himself up from the table. "Come on, let's finish this meal. We've got a long winter ahead, and I don't intend to waste it."

Sachiko smiled, a small, contented smile. As long as they were together, they would endure whatever came next.