Sosuke Kitahara wasn't a stranger to Narita. He'd flown through a handful of times, enough to know the corner where the flight attendants had holed up wasn't built for long-term living.

This was a belt of utility rooms smoking lounge, nursing room, hot-water alcove and little else. No public restrooms. The only remotely useful spaces were a souvenir shop and a bookstore; the rest of the retail was sealed off behind other fire doors on the far side of the concourse.

He walked the perimeter, gaze cool. The souvenir shop's food was stripped to the studs; if there was any left, they'd stashed it somewhere clever. The bookstore told the same story burned paper in ash piles, even the wooden shelves cannibalized for kindling.

Thud, thud.

He rapped the roll-up grate with his knuckles. Someone had jammed tinder into the slats; the thing felt rigid as a wall. Even that idle tapping triggered an instant response metal rattled in a wave, the whole door shivering.

Sosuke glanced to the side. The stand-alone fire door's handle had been wired solid, twisted until the steel squealed. A barricade against whatever lay behind it.

"Excuse me…"

A thin young man in glasses trotted over, blade-wielder from earlier. His clothes were smeared with the airport's grime; he didn't look like a pilot. He cleared his throat, nervous. "Best not touch those. We locked a lot of biters behind them. If they get riled up, this might not hold."

"Even that one?" Sosuke tipped his chin at the opposite shutter. He'd been half a breath from boring a peephole.

The kid pushed the hair out of his eyes and nodded. "Worse over there. At least five crew trapped on the far side."

"Odd. Why leave them penned like cattle? Why didn't the Self-Defense Force clean it out?"

The kid shook his head. He didn't know. Sosuke pointed at the grate they stood by. "How many behind this one? A hundred? Two?"

"Not that many." He answered without puffery. "Some of us escaped through there. Still a lot thirty, forty at least. Too much for us even when we still had spare ammo."

"Name?" Sosuke slipped a packet of cigarettes from his pack, offered one.

The young man hesitated, then accepted and let Sosuke thumb the lighter for him. Smokers, now, were richer than kings. He took two grateful pulls and the words came easier. "Hiramiya. Ground staff. We had two security officers, but after the military pulled out… they went on a supply run last week and came back infected. We had to… end it. The soldiers wouldn't take us. Said relief would come later. So for now it's President Maeda and Aso-san making the calls. Aso Kōta tall one youngest international-line pilot on our roster."

Hiramiya couldn't help a glance over his shoulder. Aso had the face for a poster and the posture for a cockpit. He held his subgun properly, trigger finger calm and high on the guard. Feeling eyes on him, Aso flicked a look their way, then kept talking with Kadokawa Keiichiro, the cop.

"You kid. Over here."

Keiichiro crook-fingered him like a barking supervisor. Sosuke's brow pinched. "Got legs, haven't you? Use 'em."

The officer stalked over anyway, Maeda and a few others in tow. He jabbed a finger at Sosuke's nose. "I've seen your type too many times think a gun makes you special. You will follow police instructions, or I will make you."

"Make who, exactly?" Mrs. Yuigahama worked the slide on her pistol with a crisp, angry snick and stepped to Sosuke's shoulder. "We haven't broken a law. And waving a badge doesn't mean you get to play warden."

Sosuke lifted Keiichiro's finger off his face with a light tap. "Officer Kadokawa, if this is your tone, take a walk. We're not inmates. If you want to try 'making' me be my guest."

"Now, now! Brothers in hardship no need to square off." Maeda Shinji oiled his way between them, all smiles and hand pats. "Special times call for special grace, eh? Officer, perhaps… a few words we can all align behind?"

Keiichiro let himself be tugged half a step, then planted his heels. "Very well. As President Maeda says: extraordinary times. We must think of the whole. As the senior law officer, I order you to turn in your weapons for centralized control. I'll reissue them as needed. In return, you'll share our stores food, water, everything."

Sosuke barked a laugh. "So you take our guns, hand us back a slice, and toss in a few buns to keep us sweet? I took a look around, officer. Of everyone here, the two of us are holding the most food and firepower. You don't get to balance your books out of our packs."

"Watch your mouth." Keiichiro's eyes flashed. "These are service weapons. Civilians shouldn't have them. I'm already bending the rules by reissuing anything. Don't drink a toast only to demand a beating."

"Generous of you," Sosuke said dryly. He stepped back, dragged his boot through the dust, leaving a white line. "From here on, this line is our boundary. Cross it without permission, and I will shoot."

"You ! This is an airport. Public property. Who gave you the right to "

Sosuke lifted the rifle and cracked a round into the ceiling. The calcium-silicate tile shattered, raining grit. He didn't blink. "Try me."

"Easy! Easy!" Maeda locked his arms around Keiichiro. "Not worth it over a few guns. We've got ours. We'll find more."

"Hnh! Refuse to cooperate, and don't expect a noodle from us," Keiichiro spat, letting himself be hauled away. "Or a seat out when I fly this place."

Mrs. Yuigahama rolled her eyes. "Fly? In that mess outside? Never mind the sky's a kill zone the runway looks like a junkyard. He's delusional."

"Mm… prop planes can get out short," Hiramiya murmured, cheeks coloring when both of them looked over. "If there were one. The helicopters left during the first week. Military pulled anything sturdy last. There is a crop-duster in a far hangar, but… getting there now is… And even if it could launch I wouldn't board."

Whatever memory that tugged at, it closed his mouth. Aso called him from across the hall; Hiramiya bowed and scurried away.

Sosuke waved him off with a grin. "Anytime."

…

Night fell. Sosuke and Mrs. Yuigahama finished a plain supper in the bookstore and split two apples. Through the glass, he watched the others.

They were celebrating. Food meager, yes, but someone had dragged out a dozen bottles of sake, and someone else had a solar charger keeping a phone alive and club beats thudding. Long-legged attendants swayed and laughed, voices bright and brittle.

On his side of the glass, Mrs. Yuigahama had changed her dressing and closed her eyes to hoard strength. Now she slept against his shoulder, breath soft. He kept his post, eyes steady on the party. Still in danger, not out of the woods and wasting energy on a wake. It was a fast track to dying tired.

"Hey, onii-chan… can I come in?"

A bob of gold hair popped around the jamb Kadokawa's rebellious daughter. Sosuke smiled. "Sure. We're picky about who we don't welcome. A cute kid like you? VIP."

"Heehee. Smooth talker. You trying to sell me candy?"

She scampered in on cartoon-print sneakers, plopped beside him, took in the scene across the way, then scooted a little closer and leaned back against a ragged shelf. She held out her palm. "Got a smoke, onii-chan? One stick?"

"You smoke?" He blinked and fished out the packet. "Smells awful on anyone."

She snatched the box, counted, then didn't light up. Instead, she tugged open her collar and slipped the whole pack under her bra strap like stashing loot, then grinned. "You're not my boyfriend why should you care? And anyway, in Japan you can legally marry at sixteen. A cigarette's not the end of the world. I just hit that age. Young enough for you?"

"…Very young," Sosuke said, at a rare loss for words. This family was something else puffed-up father, ice-queen mother, and a daughter who lived to push buttons.

The sound had roused Mrs. Yuigahama. She sat up, frowned at the girl's once-over, inched away, and closed her eyes again.

"Hey she your girlfriend?" The girl tilted her chin toward Mrs. Yuigahama, mischief sparkling. "Didn't peg you for someone into older women."

"Watch your mouth. Do you have any idea what 'manners' means?" Mrs. Yuigahama's brows shot up.

"See? Hit a nerve." The girl clicked her tongue. "And that temper. How're you gonna compete for onii-chan if you snap at shadows?"

She leaned close to Sosuke with a sugary smile, then emboldened by the game tapped his cheek with a quick, teasing peck and hugged his arm. "Onii-chan, make me your girlfriend. I'm plenty cute and I'll only get better as I grow. Watching me level up won't be fun?"

"Who taught you that nonsense?" Sosuke eased his arm free, keeping the tone light. "And drop the 'raising-sim' talk. Not appropriate."

The girl snorted, covering her mouth to laugh, then jerked her chin at Mrs. Yuigahama. "Look, she's gone pale. Okay, okay done teasing. Let's chat. Those silly flight attendants still have to keep my stepdad company at the drinks table anyway."