Chapter 3

The days inside the bunker felt longer and longer for Dina. Her body was growing weaker, as time passed without any certainty of when the outside world would be safe again. Every time she looked at her two children, Ajisaka and Binar, her heart ached. She never imagined they would have to live in such limitations and isolation. Though she tried to remain strong, Dina knew her time with them might not last much longer.

Dina often sat quietly on a small chair in the corner of the bunker, staring at the cold concrete walls that seemed to press down on her. The room felt more cramped each day, not just because of the stale air, but because of the emotional weight that kept building. Every day, she heard her children laughing, albeit faintly, or joking with each other. They tried to stay hopeful, but Dina could see the changes in them—especially in Ajisaka. The boy, only 12 years old, now appeared far older than his age. Binar, being younger, remained innocent, though fear had begun to creep into his daily life.

Dina often reflected on what had happened. On how they ended up here, and on the decisions she made when the disaster struck. The vaccine that was supposed to save them... those fleeting memories came and went in her mind, never really leaving. But now, it wasn't the vaccine that troubled her most—it was the future of her two children. How would they survive without her?

One night, as they sat together in the small living space of the bunker, the silence felt suffocating. Only the sound of Binar's small steps could be heard as he played near his mother, and Ajisaka sat on the other side, lost in his own thoughts. Dina knew she could no longer avoid the conversation she feared the most.

"Kids," Dina began softly, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I haven't been feeling well lately."

Ajisaka immediately looked at his mother, his eyes glistening with tears. He had already noticed the changes in her over the past few weeks, but hearing it directly from her made the reality feel much more terrifying. Dina tried to smile, though her face clearly showed deep exhaustion.

"I don't want you to worry," Dina continued, holding back tears that were beginning to well up in her eyes. "I'll keep fighting to stay with you both for as long as I can."

Ajisaka stayed silent, unable to speak. He wanted to deny it, but something inside him knew this was the closest they had come to saying goodbye. Meanwhile, Binar, still playing with his toys, glanced briefly at his mother. For him, those words might not have fully registered yet, but the sadness that filled the room was beginning to make him uncomfortable.

Dina knew that her children, especially Ajisaka, had to be ready for the worst. "Ajisaka," she said softly, her voice hoarse. "I'm proud of you. You're stronger than I ever imagined. If... if I'm not here..." Dina swallowed hard, her tears finally falling. "You have to take care of Binar, okay? You also have to take care of yourself."

Ajisaka could no longer hold it in. His sobs broke through, shaking his small body, already burdened with so much. He hugged his mother tightly, feeling her body, which had grown thinner and weaker. Binar, hearing his brother's crying, stopped playing and turned to look at them, confused.

"Don't go, Mom," Ajisaka whispered through his tears. "Don't leave us..."

Dina closed her eyes for a moment, trying to steady herself before hugging her two children tightly. "I don't want to go, honey. I'll always be here, in your hearts. As long as you're together, you'll be okay."

Binar, still not fully understanding what was happening, hugged his mother with a confused look. "Why is Brother crying, Mom?" he asked innocently, while Ajisaka's sobs continued between their embrace.

Dina smiled gently, though her tears couldn't be stopped. "He's sad, sweetheart. We're all sad, but I promise, we'll be okay."

That night, Dina lay in bed, her mind filled with worries about her children's future. Behind the smile she had given them, she knew her body wouldn't last much longer. The pain that coursed through her had become part of her daily life, and the coughing fits that came more frequently were weakening her further. But what haunted Dina most wasn't the physical pain—it was the fear of what would happen to Ajisaka and Binar after she was gone.

They continued to endure the heavy days in the bunker. Their food supplies were dwindling, and Dina had to rest more often. Ajisaka, despite his youth, began to take on some of the tasks Dina usually handled. He made sure Binar ate enough, and he often reduced his own portions so his younger brother could have more.

Dina watched all this with mixed feelings. On one hand, she was proud to see Ajisaka growing into such a responsible young boy. But on the other, her heart broke to see him bearing such a heavy burden at such a young age.

Nights in the bunker grew quieter. Dina often lay awake, reflecting in the darkness. The sound of her children's breathing as they slept nearby was her only comfort. She knew her time was nearing the end, but she continued to pray that she could hold on a little longer—at least until she felt sure that Ajisaka and Binar were truly ready.

But time couldn't be delayed. One night, as they sat together in the same small room, Dina felt her breath becoming heavier. She knew this was the moment. In a near whisper, she called Ajisaka and Binar to her side.

"Mom is tired," she said softly. "I'm going to rest for a bit, okay? Take care of each other, alright?"

Ajisaka, his eyes swollen from crying, simply nodded. He hugged his mother one last time before Dina lay down in her bed, her eyes slowly closing.

When morning came, Ajisaka and Binar found that Dina had passed away peacefully.

Ajisaka sat beside his mother's cold, still body. His eyes were swollen, red, and dry, yet the tears continued to fall without stopping. Binar, still too young to fully understand, also cried, but his cries were full of confusion. The two of them couldn't accept that their mother was gone. Days passed without them noticing, as if time itself had stopped. They couldn't bring themselves to leave Dina's side, unable to part from the woman who had protected them for so long.

Each night, Ajisaka lay beside his mother's body, wishing he could feel her warmth again, wishing he could hear her breathing, but that warmth was gone. Ajisaka tried to talk to Binar, tried to comfort him, but no words could erase the unbearable pain. Binar just sat quietly, holding his mother's cold hand, occasionally whispering, "Mom, wake up. Mom, don't sleep so long..."

Ajisaka stared at the bunker ceiling, feeling a sorrow so deep it made it hard to breathe. Every time he closed his eyes, he imagined his mother's face, but that face slowly changed—not the face he knew, but a figure that no longer breathed. His nights were filled with nightmares, and every time he woke, the same harsh reality struck him again.

For days, they couldn't leave Dina's side. Her body had started to decay, but they were too consumed by grief to fully notice. Ajisaka knew he had to do something, that his mother's body couldn't be left like this. Yet, every time he tried to stand up and act, his legs felt heavy. Binar, too young to fully understand, just kept holding their mother's hand, hoping that Dina would wake up.

Days passed, and the signs of decay became more obvious. A foul stench began to fill the bunker. One morning, Ajisaka woke up to find small maggots crawling on his mother's body. He was shocked, his heart raced, and his eyes reddened again, but this time it wasn't just from sorrow—it was the strong urge to do something. He knew this couldn't go on.

Ajisaka approached Binar, who still sat faithfully by Dina's side. "Binar, we have to move Mama," he said softly, though his voice was heavy.

Binar looked up at his brother, confused, then shook his head vigorously. "No! Mama's just sick. She just needs to rest. She'll wake up soon, I know it!" Binar cried again, this time with sheer fear.

Ajisaka's heart ached hearing his brother's words. He knew Binar was too young to understand, but he couldn't let this continue. "Binar, Mama's gone. Mama... she's passed away," he said, his voice trembling. "We can't leave her here like this. We have to move her."

Binar began to cry harder, rejecting the reality that Ajisaka had just spoken. "No! No! Mama's still here! Please don't move her! I don't want Mama to go!" he screamed hysterically, clinging to Dina's decaying body.

Ajisaka, overwhelmed by despair and losing his patience, finally snapped. "Binar! Listen to me! Mama is dead! She's not going to wake up!" His voice broke, filled with anger and the pain he had been holding in for so long.

Binar froze, shocked by his brother's outburst. His sobs grew quieter, but he still clung to their mother's body. Ajisaka instantly regretted shouting, but he didn't know what else to say. He collapsed next to Binar, tears streaming down his face once again. "I'm sorry, Binar... I'm sorry, but this is the truth. Mama's gone, and we... we have to move her."

After a while, Binar finally accepted the truth. With tears still flowing freely, he nodded quietly. "But... I don't want Mama to go, brother," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Ajisaka pulled Binar into his arms, holding back his own sobs. "I don't want that either, Binar. But we have to be strong. Mama wouldn't want us to stay like this. We have to keep living, for her."

In the end, they decided to move Dina's body. But it was not an easy task. Her decaying body felt heavy, and the stench had now filled the entire room. Ajisaka and Binar struggled to hold back their tears as they lifted their mother's body. They knew this was the most heartbreaking thing they had ever done.

They found a metal box in the corner of the bunker, once used to store food supplies. Ajisaka decided that it would be his mother's final resting place. However, when they tried to fit Dina's body into the box, they struggled. Her body had stiffened, and Ajisaka had to use all his strength to carefully move her.

Binar stood nearby, his eyes wet with endless tears. He still didn't fully understand, but seeing their mother lifeless and placed inside the box made him truly realize that Dina wasn't coming back. "Brother... why did Mama have to go?" Binar asked softly, his voice cracking.

Ajisaka looked at his brother with deep sadness, not knowing how to answer. "I don't know, Binar," he replied, his voice trembling. "But one thing's for sure, Mama always loved us. We have to keep living for her."

The two of them finally managed to close the metal box carefully, though their hands were shaking. Ajisaka felt like his world had collapsed, but he knew he had to stay strong. Not just for himself, but for Binar, who now only had him.

Once it was done, they both sat on the floor of the bunker, holding each other tightly. There was nothing left for them to do but cry, releasing all the grief they had kept inside. That day felt like the end of everything, but in his heart, Ajisaka promised that he would take care of Binar—and ensure that they both survived, no matter what.

In the stillness of the bunker, their sobs became the only sound that remained.