Contagion Investigators

After filling my stomach with something light, I headed down to the Division 3 office. As noted in the maroon notebook about memory loss, the symptoms could be described as progressive yet inconsistent.

Even though I was experiencing an accelerated version of the biological weapon, the pattern of my mental decline was clear: information could be lost in my memory, but it seemed to only be a matter of not knowing where to find the specific recollection. Once the forgotten detail resurfaced—at least initially—it could be remembered again.

I realized that when I stepped into the elevator, knowing perfectly well which floor I was going to.

Once I reached the office, no one seemed willing to approach me.

“I need to hurry. Before Katy forgets me completely.”

Perhaps my deteriorated state—hunched over at the printer, with scribbles scrawled across my arms—wasn’t helping.

The sight of a sickly, trembling young man, desperate to grab every piece of paper the machine spit out, a few curious onlookers, like Hiro, approached me from behind.

Damn it, I can’t even hold the papers…

“How are you, Isayama?” The poet crouched beside me and handed me the sheet that had slipped from my grasp.

“Hiro. E-everything’s fine.”

He observed the tremors in my fingers.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He held the paper back, just out of my reach.

“Yes, damn it! I’m fine!”

Concerned for my condition, he simply smiled before handing me the document.

“Alright, I hope that’s true. I don’t want my friend to suffer.” He walked away, leaving behind the somber stares of Felix and Carlos.

Not just as professionals but as friends, they knew full well that something was wrong with me.

Those tremors shook their spirits, aware of what they signified and worried they might be next. Something I knew was unlikely since they didn’t have spinal implants.

Hurry up…

“What are you doing here?” Another voice interrupted.

“I have to be here!”

“You should be resting,” Irina watched me and my colleague from her new desk.

“I can’t. I need to print everything I’ve gathered so far…”

“What difference would it make compared to the holographic document?”

“You don’t get it, Ryunosuke… What if I forget where the file is saved? The most effective thing would be to carry it all with me…”

“So, you too…”

“Yes…”

Aware of the gravity of the situation, he seemed unwilling to revisit the trauma of Shinpei’s last days.

“Isayama, let me help you with that.”

“Huh?”

“In return, I want to take you back to your room. I need to make sure you rest…”

“But…” I looked at his serious face. “F-fine…”

Too drained to argue, I finished printing the remaining pages and clung to them as we ascended to my room together.

We rode the elevator back home.

“Wait…” I stopped in the middle of the residential hallway.

Ryunosuke, hands in his pockets, halted as well.

Something’s not right…

I scanned my surroundings, dimly lit by the sunset.

“Isayama?”

What’s happening?

“Ryunosuke, sorry for the strange question, but…” I looked at the papers in my hands and the scribbles on my arm. “Where were we going?”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s weird, but… where are we headed?”

I was met with his doubts and fears.

“A-are you really okay?”

“Y-yes, more or less…”

“I was taking you to your room to rest…”

Seriously?

“But that can’t be right, Ryunosuke… I need to keep investigating to save Katy.” 

How could my deterioration advance so quickly?

“Well, it doesn’t matter…” I backtracked. “Let’s go to my room then…”

My companion’s face was a poem of disbelief.

Together, we entered my room. Inside, we were greeted by the uncontrollable sobs of the twins, who were huddled around Katy. She was sitting on the bed.

“Katy, Katy!”

“It’s me, Katy. Remember me!”

They begged her on their knees, but her pale and frail face showed no recognition.

Ryunosuke shared a fraction of their horror, and soon, I too was infected by it.

“Katy… W-what happened to her?”

His words were drowned out by the young women’s cries.

“Isayama, Katy doesn’t remember us!” Rin threw herself at me. “Do something!”

“Huh? M-me?”

“Katy!”

Confused, I left my horrified companion behind and approached the bed.

Soon, those dim amber eyes found me amidst the tears.

They looked at me dryly. Distantly.

“Katy?”

“W-who…?”

“It’s me, Isayama.” I tried to take her hand, but she pulled it away.

“Who are you?”

“Isayama. The boy you were in love with…”

“In love?” Her frail voice showed faint interest in the conversation.

“Yes, yes, do you remember?”

She took a few seconds to answer.

Seconds in which my soul decayed a little more.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’m in love with you…”

“Sorry?”

“That’s impossible…”

“Katy… How can you…?”

Ryunosuke, unable to believe the grotesque sight before him, observed from a cautious distance as my frustration erupted with each of my beloved’s denials.

No matter how much we tried, Katy Shimizu didn’t remember us.

The day I feared most had arrived—my defeat.

No matter how much I shouted, shook her, or cried, it was futile.

We had reached a point of no return. Yet, despite everything, that wasn’t the most heartbreaking part. I was willing to let her forget me, to sacrifice myself for a better ending for her. The problem was, despite all my efforts to maintain my sanity and pull on invisible threads to accuse the culprits, I still didn’t know how the hell I was going to save her.