New Dawn Chapter: 0112

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"Alright, everyone, settle down." The chatter subsided. "It's been a rough… well, it's been a rough everything. But tonight, we're not just survivors. We're people. And we've got a special treat." He gestured towards the makeshift stage they'd set up—a small, cleared area with a single stool and a microphone plugged into a portable amp. "Please give it up for the one and only, Mai Sakurajima."

A wave of applause and cheers filled the room. Mai, looking nervous but determined, walked to the stage. She sat on the stool, taking the microphone. She met Tysone's gaze across the room, and he gave her a small, encouraging nod. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and began to sing.

It was "Past Lives."

There was no band, no complex arrangement. Just her voice, clear and pure, filling the room. It was melancholic, beautiful, and deeply resonant.

"Past lives couldn't ever hold me down, lost love is sweeter when it's finally found…"

Everyone listened, mesmerized.

Tysone watched as people's faces transformed, the weight of the world momentarily lifted off their shoulders.

For just a moment, the mansion wasn't a fortified stronghold against a monstrous outside. It was a room filled with people enjoying the simple pleasure of a party. Mai continued to sing, her voice a little hoarse, her eyes shimmering.

"I've got the strangest feeling.... this isn't our first time around."

Her voice resonated through the room.

"Past lives couldn't ever come between us."

"Sometimes, the dreamers finally wake up."

"Don't wake me, I'm not dreaming. Don't wake me, I'm not dreaming."

Her performance was powerful. Enough to make Miku shed tears. Enough to have Saeko crack an appreciative, longing smile. Enough for Saya to be lost in the feeling, staring at the ground, as if in a trance. It was enough to even make him sigh. His own past life was anything but beautiful, yet here he was. A better man in a chaotic world. He had grown for sure.

The song had the power to evoke memories.

Mai's voice slowly faded. When her song came to a close, there was a stunned silence, followed by a roar of applause and cheering. Mai, flushed but glowing, stood and took a bow. Tears fell from her eyes as she sobbed quietly. "Thank you!"

Tysone watched from the back of the room, a rare, unguarded smile on his face. He'd given her the lyrics, the melody, but the soul… that was all Mai. She had taken his stolen words and made them hers, given them a weight and a beauty he could never have managed.

In that moment, he felt a pang of something complex. Pride, yes, but also a sharp, aching memory of Malik. His brother would have loved this. He would have been the first on his feet, cheering the loudest, probably trying to get Mai's autograph on a napkin. The thought was a bittersweet sting, a reminder of the life he'd lost and the strange, unbelievable one he was now building.

The party continued, the atmosphere lighter now, buoyed by the performance. Conversations flowed more easily, laughter echoed louder. Tysone found himself drawn into a discussion with Kenji, the stoic older survivor, about reinforcing the mansion's perimeter. Officer Nakaoka, a bit more confident after a few drinks Kohta had slyly provided, was debating the merits of different shotgun gauges with the gun-nut.

It was Miku who approached him first, her gothic lolita dress a swirl of black lace in the dim light. "That was… really beautiful." She said, her voice surprisingly sincere. "Did you…?"

"I just gave her the canvas." Tysone said, cutting her off gently. He didn't want to talk about it, not really. "She's the artist."

Miku seemed to understand. She nodded, her gaze drifting over to where Mai was now chatting animatedly with Marin and Yui. "She's lucky. To have a voice like that. And a friend like you."

Before Tysone could decipher the undertone of her words, another figure joined them. Saya. She held two cups, handing one to Tysone. It was some kind of fruit punch, heavily spiked if the smell was any indication.

"Don't drink it all at once." Saya said, her tone clipped, but her eyes lacked their usual sharp edge. She glanced from Tysone to Miku, a flicker of something unreadable in her expression. "It's strong."

"Trying to get me drunk, Saya?" Tysone teased, taking a sip. It was indeed strong. "What are your intentions?"

Saya rolled her eyes, but a faint blush dusted her cheeks. "My intention is to not have to carry your oversized ass to bed. So, pace yourself." She took a delicate sip from her own cup, then looked at the makeshift stage. "It was a good idea. The party."

It was the closest thing to a wholehearted compliment he'd likely get from her all night. "See? I have good ideas sometimes."

"Sometimes." She conceded, a small smile playing on her lips. She looked at him then, really looked at him, and her smile faltered. "You look tired, Ty."

He was. The physical and mental toll of the past few weeks was catching up to him.

"The Final Boss needs to recharge his batteries sometimes." He said, forcing a light tone. "And it's not easy keeping track of a mansion of misfits."

"You can lean on us more, you know. Me, Kohta, even that blockhead, Takashi."

"Yeah, yeah. I know." Tysone said, taking another sip of his drink. The warmth from the alcohol was comforting. "But right now, I don't want to think about any of that. I just want to enjoy this moment..."

Saya didn't press the issue. Instead, she offered her hand. "Come on, idiot. You're not going to hide in a corner all night. Dance with me." It was not a request.

He set his drink aside. "With pleasure, princess." He took her hand, leading her to a spot on the floor.

Saya wasn't one for parties. She had never enjoyed the loud music, the crowded dance floors, the drunken revelry. To her, parties were a necessary evil, a social obligation she fulfilled to keep her parents happy and her connections strong. However, as the background shifted to something slower, more intimate, and she found herself face-to-face with Tysone, she realized this was different.

There was a warmth in the room that had nothing to do with the flickering lights or the alcohol.

Kotha in the back gave Tysone a discreet thumbs-up. That guy had taken over the music for the evening.

Tysone smiled in amusement, a smile that became unexpectedly soft when a mop of pink hair leaned on his chest.

"You really are an idiot, aren't you?" Saya muttered.

"Only the biggest for you." Tysone responded.

She chuckled softly. Her hand found his, their fingers intertwining as they swayed to the rhythm. It was a simple dance, nothing extravagant or overly intimate.

"It's been a while since I last danced." She said, breaking the comfortable silence. Her voice was barely above a whisper, yet it carried clearly over the soft melody. "I'm out of practice."

"You're doing great." Tysone chuckled. "Take it from someone who's never danced. You're a natural, Saya."

Saya scoffed lightly at that. "Dancing was never my favorite part of a party." She confessed. "I was more of a watcher. Watching the others, analyzing, observing."

"I don't doubt that. You've got a sharp mind and an eye for detail. I'm surprised you didn't spot my two left feet sooner."

She laughed at that, a sound that mingled with the music, creating a harmony all of its own. "You're not as terrible as you think, you know."

"I never said I was." Tysone smiled as he temporarily pulled back, waving his arm and spinning Saya before pulling her back to him, closer than before.

Saya let out a small yelp of surprise at the move, her cheeks turning a shade of pink that rivaled her hair.

"Enhanced coordination and all." He grinned. "The apocalypse turned me into a dancer."

Seriously, who would've thought?

"Or a madman who doesn't know his limits." Saya countered as she piroutted once more beneath his arm. "Either that or the booze has gotten to you."

"Booze has gotten to me. You are absolutely right." He grinned as they continued to dance. "It's not everyday we can get some time off, is it?"

"We've earned it, I think."

Tysone sighed. "More than earned. We've worked our asses off since day one, and it's just getting harder."

"Damn right..." She said as they swayed, bodies close, drifting along to the beat. "But we're doing a pretty good job at surviving, if I do say so myself."

"Yeah... we are."

They continued to move slowly.

"You know..." Tysone started, his voice soft. "You're a great dance partner. Who knew we'd find a new skill amidst all the chaos?"

Saya smiled, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "I could say the same about you. You're not the worst person to dance with. And considering the company I've had at past events, that's quite a compliment."

He laughed at that, his breath brushing against her ear as they moved. "Well, thank you for the vote of confidence. I guess we're not as bad as we thought we were."

The music changed again, but neither of them made a move to separate. They were lost in their own little bubble, the party around them fading into a soft blur. "Ty?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you." Saya said.

"For the dance?"

She shook her head slightly, her chin brushing against his chest. She curled up in his arms. "For being there. For all of this."

He was silent for a moment.

"I'm always there for you. Even when we were just friends. I'd have done the same. Even if we never became whatever we are right now."

Saya looked up at him as she stopped dancing. He stopped along with her.

"And what are we, Tysone?"

Author's Note:

If you're enjoying the story and want to read ahead or support my work, you can check out my P@treon at P@treon.com/LordCampione. But don't worry—all chapters will eventually be public. Just being here and reading means the world to me. Thank you for your time and support.