Code Nine

"Hey, you okay?" Victor’s voice cut through the stillness as he stood abruptly, his posture tense.

The door creaked open, and Azumi stepped out, peeling off her surgical gloves and head cap with deliberate motions.

"I'm okay," Azumi replied with a weary sigh, tossing the used items into a nearby bin. Her exhaustion was visible, etched in the slump of her shoulders and the faint tremor in her hands.

She leaned slightly against the doorframe, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

"Just really tired," she admitted, her voice quieter now. "The anesthesia wasn’t enough—we had to sedate her. She’s stable, but she’ll be unconscious for a while longer."

Victor stepped closer, his brow furrowed with concern. Without a word, he reached out, steadying her as she leaned into him. For a moment, they stood in silence, the gravity of their situation pressing down on them both.

"You did everything you could," he murmured, his hand resting lightly on her back. "She wouldn’t have made it this far without you."

Azumi exhaled deeply, her tension easing ever so slightly as she rested against him. "I know," she said, her voice laced with both exhaustion and resolve. "But it feels like we’re just patching things together—every step is a gamble."

Victor’s grip on her tightened just a little, as if to reassure her. "That’s all we can do," he said quietly. "One step at a time."

Azumi nodded, but Victor caught the flicker of uncertainty in her gaze. This wasn’t the kind of hesitation he’d encountered before—this was different. Deeper. Almost elusive.

“Love,” he murmured, his voice soft yet probing, “what’s really going on?” The silence that followed was heavy, her reluctance feeding the unease building within him.

Finally, Azumi turned to him, her expression a mixture of sorrow and vulnerability. “You’ve noticed, haven’t you?” she said quietly, her voice tinged with resignation. “Something’s been weighing on me. I think you’ve felt it.”

Victor stepped closer, his hand gently threading through Azumi's hair, his touch both grounding and tender. "Is this about your memories?" he asked, his voice low, laced with concern.

Azumi cast him a fleeting glance before turning fully to face him. "I’m just... confused, and curious at the same time," she admitted, her voice steady but reflective. "Was I really a nurse?"

Her question struck him like an unexpected chord, unraveling thoughts he hadn’t dared explore. He lowered his gaze, as if the answers lay buried somewhere beneath the surface of their worn floor.

For a long moment, he said nothing, the silence between them dense with unspoken truths.

"Now that you mention it..." he began, exhaling a sigh that seemed to carry years of unacknowledged doubts. "I’ve wondered about it too," he confessed, his hand moving to wipe the faint sheen of sweat from her brow. His touch lingered, a silent reassurance. "You always said you worked at that hospital—so far away from the home we shared. But... I’ve never been there, never seen it. Not once."

She tilted her head, her curiosity sharpening. "Why not?"

Victor hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line before speaking. "Because you wouldn’t let me," he said, his tone a mix of frustration and resignation. "Or rather, you always found a reason—a perfectly logical, carefully worded reason—for me not to visit. And every time, I believed you or maybe... I wanted to believe you."

The weight of his words came like a choking air and Azumi’s mind churned with the fragments of a past she could barely grasp. A past that, now, seemed cloaked in shadows more enigmatic than she ever realized.

Azumi’s jaw tightened, her breaths growing heavier and more uneven. Her hands trembled slightly, betraying the storm raging within. "I-I think... I think I'm—"

"A-Azumi!"

The voice, urgent and breathless, cut through her confession like a blade. Hiroshi appeared, rushing toward them with an urgency that made both Azumi and Victor turn sharply.

Victor stepped forward, instinctively placing himself between Azumi and the commotion. "What happened?"

Hiroshi's gaze darted between them, his face pale and his breaths as frantic as his words. "Adelina—she's awake," he stammered, his voice shaky. "But she's... she's saying things. Things I can’t understand."

Azumi stepped forward with an air of calm, her presence immediately grounding the tension in the room. She tapped Victor's shoulder lightly, a reassuring gesture that spoke louder than words. "It's normal," she explained in a composed tone. "We gave her diazepam, but with a lower dosage. It's common for her to wake up after a few minutes to an hour. Her ability to think and speak might be impaired for a little while, but it’s nothing to worry about—it won’t last long."

Hiroshi let out a long, relieved sigh. "I-I'm glad to hear that," he muttered, his voice still shaky. "C-Can you check on her, though? Just in case?"

Azumi nodded, her professional demeanor unwavering as she moved to follow Hiroshi. Victor trailed behind them, his steps steady but watchful as they made their way toward the kitchen.

Adelina lay flat on the makeshift cot, her eyes already open and staring at the ceiling. She looked fragile, yet there was a peculiar clarity in her gaze that gave Azumi pause.

"Adelina," Azumi said softly, stepping closer and adjusting the flow of the IV. "How are you feeling?"

She didn’t expect much of a response. With the sedative still in her system, Azumi anticipated only murmurs or incoherent phrases. But what came next startled everyone.

"I'm okay," Adelina said clearly, her voice steady and unnervingly normal. She turned her head to face Azumi, her gaze sharp and focused. "Thank you."

Azumi froze for a moment, the unexpected coherence of Adelina’s words throwing her off balance. Her brows furrowed, confusion flickering in her eyes. This wasn’t supposed to happen—not after the dosage they’d administered. It didn’t add up.

Victor exchanged a quick, worried glance with Azumi, but she didn’t linger on her surprise. She reminded herself of the world they now inhabited—a world where the inexplicable had become almost routine. They had lived among the undead for three years, surviving horrors that defied reason.

Odd things happened. And they didn’t always come with explanations.

"Not feeling any pain, right?" Azumi asked, her voice gentle but firm, as she leaned in to check on Adelina.

Adelina shook her head, a soft smile gracing her lips. "Not at all. I’m really thankful."

Azumi returned the smile, her expression warm yet professional, before turning to Hiroshi. "She’ll be fine. She just needs to rest for now," she assured him.

Hiroshi exhaled in relief, his shoulders relaxing as he crouched beside Adelina. "I’ll be just outside, okay, my love?" he whispered, placing a tender kiss on her forehead before standing up to head back to the living room.

Victor, leaning casually against the doorway, gestured subtly toward Azumi. "Love," he called, his tone suggesting they give Adelina some peace.

"I’ll be there in a while," Azumi replied without looking up. "Just want to check her vitals."

Victor gave a knowing nod and smirked before mimicking Hiroshi's earlier gesture. "I’ll be just outside, okay, my love?" he said with exaggerated earnestness, planting a playful kiss on Azumi’s forehead before walking off toward their room.

Azumi couldn’t help but giggle, shaking her head at his antics. The brief moment of levity felt like a welcome reprieve amidst the tension that had dominated their day.

In the living room, Hiroshi collapsed onto the sofa, the weight of worry finally easing. The faint sounds of Victor humming in their room mingled with the quiet, creating a fragile sense of normalcy in their chaotic world... not until Adelina spoke.

"Good to see you again, Code 9."

Azumi froze mid-step, her entire body rigid as though an unseen force had seized her. The name hung in the air like a phantom, unfamiliar to her conscious mind but striking a deep, unshakable chord within her. It was as though her body recognized something her memory could not—or refused to.

Her breath hitched as an involuntary chill ran down her spine. Slowly, almost unwillingly, she turned toward Adelina, every motion deliberate and strained, as if dragging herself through a dense fog of dread.

Adelina was waiting, her expression an unsettling contrast of calm and malice. She didn’t just smile—she grinned, a sharp, knowing curve of her lips that seemed to pierce straight through Azumi’s defenses.