New Faces

After a night that felt like a quiet rebellion against the chaos outside, morning arrived gently. The golden light bled through the curtains as Kotae and Kika finally stepped out of their room, the air between them still warm from whispered laughter and hushed conversations that had stretched into the early hours.

One after the other, they took quick showers—the water still running, the heat still working. A luxury. Maybe their last.

By the time they reached the living room, Kotae’s parents were already up, as always. His mother sat curled on the couch with a mug in hand, eyes on the window as if expecting the world to collapse right there on the lawn. His father leaned against the wall, arms crossed, thinking too loudly in silence.

Kotae flopped onto a chair and pulled out his phone, more out of habit than hope—but for now, the digital world hadn’t vanished. He tapped open the app, and his eyes lit up.

“Look!” he said, holding the screen up. “A couple messages came through.”

Everyone turned toward him.

“I explained exactly what we’re offering, and two people replied. One of them’s got a couple of generators—and some fuel—but they won’t part with the fuel. They’ll need it themselves. The other guy’s the opposite. Says he has a lot of fuel, but only one generator, which he’s keeping.”

“So we’d need to make two trades,” Kika said, her voice cautious. “Is that even worth it? That’s if it’s not another setup…”

Kotae’s dad pushed off the wall, stepping into the center of the room. His presence filled the space the way only a father’s could—anchoring, steady.

“It’s hard to tell if fate’s being generous… or sharpening its knife,” he said. “But this time we’re ready. We’ve got the guns. We know what the world has become. We know the signs, the red flags. It won’t be like last time.” He glanced at Kotae and Kika, then his wife. “Even if it’s a trap, we’ll walk into it with our eyes open. We’ll take precautions. No risks we can’t afford.”

His mother didn’t look away from the window, but her voice came through, small and tight.

“That’s… all I wanted to hear,” she said. “Be careful. All of you. Come back in one piece. I don’t care if we gain anything—just come back.”

Kika tucked her knees up on the couch, her voice thoughtful.
“So… do they live nearby?”

Kotae nodded, still glued to the screen. “They do. Both of them. Very close.”

Kika’s brow furrowed. “This really seems too good to be true.”

“The universe needs to balance itself, doesn’t it?” Kotae said with a faint smile.

His father gave a slow, approving nod. “That’s right. Yesterday, we found enemies. Maybe today… we’ll find friends.”

Kika laced her fingers together in her lap. “Let’s pray on it.”

“I’ll message them,” Kotae said, already tapping away. “Let’s prepare a meetup.”

Roughly half an hour passed. Kotae double-checked the messages, confirmed times and locations, and mapped the route. The house buzzed with the quiet rhythm of preparation—zippers closing, bags packed, safety checks whispered under breath.

Finally, he stood by the door, phone in hand. “Alright. We’re set. We’ll meet both of them in the same spot.”

His father looked up from loading a bag. “That should make it harder for either one to try anything shady.”

“Exactly. It’s an open field, no buildings, no corners. No one can hide,” Kotae said. “As for the trade itself… you know how we originally planned sixty cans and four water jugs for both items?”

His father nodded.

“Well, we’ll have to go a little over. We’re offering forty cans and two jugs to each of them. That’s twenty more cans than we budgeted, but still manageable. If both trades go through, it’s a win.”

His father was quiet for a moment. Then, finally: “Sounds… good enough.”

Kika looked at him, her expression unreadable. “As long as they come through this time.”

Kotae met her gaze. “As long as.”

A beat of silence. Then: “So,” his father asked, “are we going now?”

“Yes,” Kotae replied, already turning toward the hallway. “Let’s get ready and head out.”

They didn’t eat. There wasn’t time—and any delay could cost them both the trades and the opportunity. They geared up quickly, weapons checked, supplies packed, and everything loaded into the car.

The engine started with a comforting growl. For a moment, it felt like the world was still normal.

Their destination was only ten minutes away by car. Far better than last time. Far safer.

They had agreed on an open field as the meeting point—just like before. It was exposed, defensible, and too empty to attract looters or scavengers. In a world where silence was safety, that kind of emptiness was a rare kind of peace.

No buildings. No blind spots. No excuses.

As the car rolled down the cracked suburban road, Kika glanced out the window.

“Let’s hope,” she murmured, “we’re not just driving into someone else’s last chance.”

Kotae kept his eyes on the road.

“Hope’s not much,” he said quietly. “But I’ll take it.”

Roughly ten minutes later, the car rolled to a gentle stop at the edge of an open field. The roads had been oddly calm—cracked and quiet, but not yet overtaken by chaos. As they parked, they noticed a single vehicle already waiting, engine off.

Kotae pulled out his phone and typed quickly.
“They're not both here yet. One says they’re almost here, and the other says they’ve already arrived. I’ll message the one who’s here first and remind them how this trade is going to go down.”

He tapped away a short, clear message, repeating the instructions they had agreed upon: exit the car with the item, place it down in the open, then return to the vehicle. Afterward, they’d do the same with the food and water. A brief pause—and then, the car door on the far end cracked open.

A tall figure stepped out, his dark black hair tousled slightly by the wind, and his brown eyes scanning the surroundings with quiet focus. He carried the generator with practiced ease, as if it weighed nothing. With a smooth, fluid motion, he placed it gently on the ground between the two vehicles, then wordlessly returned to his car and shut the door.

Kika leaned forward in her seat, eyes wide. “Look! The generator is real this time.”

She then glanced between them, her voice softer. “Do you think…” she paused, choosing her words. “Do you think we could show them a little bit of trust now that we know they brought what they promised?”

Kotae glanced at his dad, the two exchanging a silent moment of thought.

Kika continued, folding her hands on her lap. “Maybe we shouldn’t lose all trust so fast… you know? Does losing your humanity only mean doing bad things? Or could it also mean losing all trust in people too quickly?”

Her words hung in the air, weighty and uncomfortably true.

Kotae’s voice came after a beat, a little reserved but thoughtful. “You make a valid point.” His eyes drifted toward the other car. “We’ve got two guns. And from what I can tell, there’s only one person in that car.”

“What do you think, Dad?”

Leonor rubbed his chin, thoughtful. “Paranoia can be unhealthy… just like it can be useful. I think the risk is minimal this time. Maybe we give it a chance.”

Kotae nodded. “We agree then. Let’s step out and talk to them.”

Kika smiled warmly. “Thanks.”

They stepped out into the cool morning air, approaching slowly but openly. Kotae raised a hand in a calm wave. The person in the other car noticed and stepped out again without hesitation.

He was young, maybe around Kotae’s age, with sharp features and an air of casual confidence. His clothes were neat—too neat for a world in collapse.

He gave a brief nod, flashing a charming smile.
“Hi. My name is Mando Shiki. Nice to meet you all.”

Kotae returned the gesture, his voice steady. “I’m Kotae.” He left out his surname, for now. “This is Kika, and this is my dad.”

Leonor stepped forward with a firm but friendly handshake. “Leonor Inuzaki. Pleasure to meet you.”

Kika offered a small wave. “Nice to meet you too.”

Mando glanced between them, his expression open and earnest. “How are you guys holding up?”

Kotae shrugged lightly. “Day by day.”

“Same here,” Mando said, resting his hands on his hips. “Every hour feels like a gamble lately.”

Kika nodded. “It really does. But… you showing up like this—it’s a good sign. Gives me hope that not everyone’s lost their mind.”

Mando chuckled. “I’ll take that as a compliment. It’s weird out there, no doubt, but I figured if anyone was going to trade fairly, it’d be the people posting clear terms ahead of time.”

Kotae shifted his weight, his eyes scanning the empty field before settling back on Mando. “So… if I’m not being too intrusive,” he asked, his voice careful, “might I ask why you’re alone?”

Mando exhaled through his nose and looked toward the horizon for a moment, as if the sky itself might offer a better answer than he could. “You know,” he said slowly, “we just met. I don’t think I want to throw a sad story on your shoulders right away.”

He paused. But then, perhaps because they had stepped out to meet him face-to-face—or because he sensed something genuine in their tone—he continued anyway.

“But since you asked… I’ll say it honestly. My mom and I… we’ve been living together for the last few years.” His gaze dropped to the ground. “Since we lost my dad. He passed away from overworking himself. Sixty-four years old. I’m twenty. My mom’s fifty-two. They had me late, I know.”

There was a stillness in his voice, quiet but steady.

“And of course,” he went on, “knowing how bad things could get out here, I refused to let her come with me. She wanted to—wanted to make sure I’d be safe—but I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to her because of me.” He let out a faint, humorless chuckle. “So… here we are.”

A gentle silence followed, not awkward, but reflective. The group took in his words, letting the weight of them settle naturally.

Kika gave a soft nod, her expression warm with understanding. Kotae offered no platitudes—just quiet respect.

Leonor, moved, stepped forward and gently placed a hand on Mando’s shoulder. “Maybe you should call her,” he said. “Tell her what’s going on. That you’re safe.”

Mando blinked, then gave a grateful smile. “Thank you,” he said. “I will.”

He stepped back a few paces, retrieving his phone from his pocket as he walked toward the edge of the field. His voice, now low and calm, drifted back faintly through the air as he placed the call.

Just then, the hum of an approaching engine reached their ears.

Another car rolled over the hill, kicking up a faint trail of dust as it came into view.

Kotae glanced toward it. “That’s got to be the second one.”

Leonor nodded, eyes narrowing slightly as he adjusted his stance. “Let’s see if lightning strikes twice.”