The Woman

The deafening explosion reverberated through the air, the force so intense that it made the ground beneath Hiroshi and Victor tremble violently. A deep, gut-wrenching rumble followed, shaking their very bones. For a fleeting moment, they thought it might be an earthquake, their instincts screaming at them to take cover. But as the tremors subsided, a thick, ominous plume of black smoke rose in the distance, curling and twisting against the pale sky.

Their breath caught in their throats as realization struck—this wasn’t a natural disaster. The smoke was coming from the direction of their home.

A cold wave of dread settled over them. Hiroshi’s hands clenched into fists, his mind racing with frantic thoughts.

"AZUMI!" Victor’s voice cracked, his heart lurching into his throat. Without hesitation, he sprang to his feet, adrenaline coursing through his veins. His hands instinctively reached for the shotgun carefully placed by the door—a precaution they’d agreed upon but never hoped to use.

"Victor, wait! Stop!" Hiroshi shouted, his voice a mix of urgency and desperation. But Victor didn’t so much as glance back. His focus was razor-sharp, his mind consumed with one thought: Azumi.

The burning realization struck him like lightning, sending a jolt of terror through his veins. The explosion had come from their house—or at least frighteningly close to it. Smoke curled into the darkening sky, a suffocating cloud of dread that choked the air from his lungs. His chest tightened, each frantic heartbeat echoing her name, pounding in his skull like a war drum.

His legs moved before his mind could catch up, sprinting toward the source of destruction, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The world blurred around him, reduced to nothing but the firelight licking at the horizon and the deafening roar of his pulse.

He couldn't allow himself to think the worst. He couldn't bear the thought of arriving too late—of finding nothing but rubble, of calling her name and receiving only silence in return.

The acrid scent of smoke stung his nose as he stumbled forward, the distant wail of sirens barely registering. He forced himself to move faster, dread clawing at his throat, his entire body screaming in protest. The fear of what he might find—or worse, what he might not—was unbearable.

The path back to the house was one they had walked countless times before, but it had never felt so excruciatingly long.

"Victor, damn it, stop! You’ll get yourself killed!" Hiroshi’s voice grew distant as he struggled to catch up. His legs burned, his lungs protested, but he forced himself forward.

He understood Victor’s urgency, but running headlong into danger without a plan was madness. They might lose the love of their lives, but what if they needed help and they came wrecklessly and only makes everything worse.

The towering structures loomed over them, their dark silhouettes stretching into the sky like silent sentinels. As they retraced their steps through the labyrinth of narrow streets, the air grew heavier, thick with an eerie stillness that prickled against their skin. Every turn, every alleyway they passed, only deepened the unsettling sensation that they were being watched. The journey, though once straightforward, now felt like an endless spiral, twisting upon itself in ways that defied reason.

The passage, once familiar, now seemed warped, as though the city itself conspired to prolong their desperation—buildings shifting ever so slightly, streets leading them in circles, shadows creeping closer as if whispering secrets they weren’t meant to hear.

Victor's legs burned with exertion as he pressed forward. It was a cruel herald of calamity. The building where they had left Azumi and Adelina was still obscured, hidden behind a maze of concrete and glass, but the column of black smoke rising into the twilight sky left no doubt of its origin.

Hiroshi, trailing just a few paces behind, muttered curses under his breath, his movements deliberate yet strained. "Damn it, Victor," he hissed, "you can't just charge in like a fool." Yet he quickened his pace. No matter how reckless Victor was, Hiroshi couldn’t let him face whatever awaited alone. The cause of the explosion was still a mystery, and mysteries often held teeth.

When Victor finally broke into the clearing, the scene before him stole his breath. A wave of heat rolled toward him, thick and suffocating, curling around his skin like a living thing. He froze, shotgun trembling in his grip, eyes wide with disbelief.

Their modest rooftop refuge—the one place they had dared to call safe in this shattered world—was now an inferno. Flames devoured the wooden beams with ravenous hunger, licking at the darkening sky as plumes of thick black smoke twisted upward like writhing specters. The fire’s roar drowned out nearly everything, save for the groans of the collapsing structure and the sharp, sickening crack of shattering glass.

Embers swirled in the heated air, glowing like dying stars before winking out against the scorched earth. The acrid scent of burning metal and charred flesh stung his nostrils, searing itself into memory. He could barely think, barely move, but his mind screamed one question above the chaos: Had anyone made it out?

Heart hammering, Victor forced his legs to move, stumbling forward even as waves of blistering heat warned him to stay back. The firelight danced across his sweat-slicked face, casting jagged shadows that made the world seem even more nightmarish.

Then, beneath the deafening symphony of destruction, he thought he heard something—a voice, a cry, or maybe just the cruel whisper of the flames. He didn't know. But he couldn’t afford to hesitate.

"Adelina!" Hiroshi's voice cracked as he reached Victor’s side, understanding all too well the desperation that fueled his companion’s urgency.

For a moment, they stood paralyzed, dread locking their limbs in place. The weight of the scene was suffocating, but Victor was the first to snap, his resolve hardening as he took a step forward.

"I’m going in," he declared, his voice laced with fury and determination. "If they’re still in there—"

"Stop." The word came sharp, like a knife slicing through the chaos.

Victor froze, pivoting to face the source of the interruption. A woman's voice, confident and almost mocking, drifted toward them from behind.

"No one's there anymore," she added, stepping into view with a languid grace that contrasted sharply with the urgency of the moment.

Victor raised his shotgun instinctively, aiming it squarely at the intruder. She stopped, hands raised in exaggerated surrender, her lips curling into an amused smirk.

"Easy there, sweet cheeks," she teased, her tone light, almost playful, as if the devastation around them was nothing more than a trivial backdrop. "I’m not here to start a bloody fight. If I were, trust me, you wouldn’t have seen me coming."

"Who the hell are you?" Hiroshi demanded, his voice low and edged with suspicion.

She ignored his question, tilting her head slightly, as if appraising them. "I came to warn you, actually. Tried earlier, but, well—" She shrugged, gesturing to her wrists as though invisible chains had once bound her. "Let’s just say circumstances weren’t exactly in my favor."

Victor didn’t lower his weapon, but his grip faltered slightly, doubt flickering in his stormy gaze. "Warn us about what?"

Her smirk faded, replaced by something darker, colder. "About what’s coming, of course. But if you’re smart, you’ll stop asking questions and start running. This fire? It’s just the beginning."

"But my girlfriend—" Victor's voice cracked as desperation seeped through his words.

The woman tilted her head, almost pityingly, though her tone was anything but kind. "Honey, I just told you no one's there anymore. This building might not even hold on long and collapse," she muttered. "If you'd only listened to her and left when she told you to, this wouldn't have happened."

Victor's brows furrowed sharply. "That was you?"

"Ahh—yeah," she admitted nonchalantly, shrugging as she gestured toward the inferno. "But don't lose sleep over it. I've seen one of them escaped, I just do not know who. The other one, I'm not sure if she's dead or what."

Victor's grip tightened on the shotgun on the shotgun, his knuckles white with rage. Hiroshi, standing beside him, hissed through clenched teeth. "Don't every day that word!"

The woman didn't flinch, her demeanor was casual as someone discussing the weather. She was nearly as tall as the two men, her rugged cloak and tattered clothing giving her an air of someone who had seen far too much—or far too little

The faint stench of smoke and grime clung to her, as though she'd just climbed out of the wreckage herself.

She smirked, a cruel, mocking curve of her lips. "You must be their boyfriends, yes?" Her gaze flicked between Hiroshi and Victor, amusement gleaming in her eyes. "Funny. You talk like you care, but seems like you didn't know your girlfriends entirely."

"What's there to know?"

"Everything," she shrugged. "Although I doubt they even know about it themselves."