CHAPTER 45: RESTING THE NIGHT

Hours passed, and it was already night. Outside, the city was eerily dark. The streetlights that once bathed the blocks in pale orange had long gone dead, their circuits useless without power. Only here and there, in the distance, faint glows could be seen—scattered buildings that must’ve had automatic backup generators still running. It gave the nightscape a patchwork look: mostly black, with pinpricks of artificial light keeping the darkness from being absolute.

Inside the bookstore, the silence pressed heavy. The clock on the office wall ticked faintly, the hands pointing straight to nine o’clock. Riku leaned back against one of the intact shelves, a paperback in hand.

Beside him, Miko sat cross-legged on the floor, her head wrapped neatly with the gauze he’d tied earlier. She cradled a book in her lap, her fingers brushing gently against the pages as she read. Every so often, her soft voice would break the silence, sharing a passage that caught her interest.

Riku smirked and countered with a line of his own from his book. Back and forth they went, trading lines and half-formed jokes. For a fleeting while, it almost felt normal. Like two people passing the time on a quiet night, not survivors hiding from the dead in a city that had collapsed.

Then a sound broke their rhythm—gurgle.

Miko froze, her cheeks coloring faintly. She clutched her stomach with both hands, her eyes flicking toward him in embarrassment.

Riku blinked, then let out a low chuckle. "Guess that’s your body telling me you’re not just alive—you’re hungry."

"Sorry..." she murmured, looking away. "I didn’t want to bother you."

Riku could see her ears turning red.

"Bother me?" Riku shook his head, standing up and stretching his arms. "Miko, that’s the least of my worries right now. Let’s see what we’ve got."

He headed back into the office where he’d found the medkit. This time he dug deeper into the drawers, checking every shelf, every dusty corner. His hand brushed against a crinkled plastic wrapper shoved behind a stack of old receipt books. He pulled it out.

"Would you look at that." A pack of biscuits, slightly crushed but still sealed. Probably something the clerk left behind in the chaos.

When he returned, Miko’s eyes widened faintly. "You... actually found something?"

"Yeah. Don’t get too excited—it’s not a feast." He tore open the wrapper and handed her the first piece.

She accepted it with both hands, almost reverently, and took a careful bite. The sound of the crunch filled the quiet. Riku sat down beside her and ate one himself.

The biscuits were dry, sweet in a faintly stale way, but to both of them it might as well have been a warm meal. They ate slowly, sharing the pack evenly.

Miko looked at him between bites, her expression soft. "Thank you, Riku-san... really."

"No problem," Riku replied, smiling.

"So we are going to stay the night here?" Miko asked.

Riku nodded his head. "We can’t move at night because it’s dangerous. We can’t see zombies approaching us and if we do see them, it’s going to be too late. Don’t worry, we are going to live tomorrow morning."

"I don’t mind staying the night with you, Riku. But where are we going to sleep?" Miko inquired, her finger on her lips to show that she was curious.

"We are going to make do with what’s here," Riku said, scanning the shop. His eyes flicked across the bookshelves, the counter, even the carpet worn from years of customers passing through. Not ideal, but it would work. "It’s not a hotel, but at least it’s four walls and a roof."

Miko tilted her head slightly, watching him. "So... the floor?"

"For now, yeah." He shrugged. "But don’t worry, I’ll make it less miserable."

He stood and began rearranging the place. He dragged a few of the lower shelves toward the corner, creating a sort of makeshift partition from the rest of the store. He pulled out several armfuls of books, stacking them neatly against the wall, and then flattened empty cardboard boxes that had been lying in the office. He spread them out across the floor, layering them into a rough mat.

When he was done, he grabbed a stack of blankets he’d found in a storage box behind the counter—probably kept for chilly customers or late-shift staff. They were dusty but intact. He shook them out, draped one on the ground, and set another aside to serve as cover.

"There," Riku said, patting the blanket. "Better than concrete."

Miko’s lips curved into a small smile as she leaned closer to inspect. "You... really thought it through."

"Just common sense." He crouched down, spreading the second blanket over the spot. "You’re still recovering. You can’t be sleeping against hard wood or stone. It’ll only make things worse."

Miko hesitated before lowering herself carefully onto the makeshift bed. She shifted, settling against the blanket, and exhaled softly. "It’s... actually comfortable. But what about you?"

Riku leaned back, nodding at the blanket. "Alright, that’s yours. I’ll just sit here against the wall. Been through worse."

Miko blinked at him, her brows knitting. "Eh? No way."

He raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean no way? You’re the one with a head injury. You need the rest more than I do."

She shook her head quickly, strands of pink hair brushing her cheeks. "That’s exactly why we should share. If you stay sitting all night, you’ll be exhausted tomorrow. And if something happens... we’ll need you at your best."

Riku sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "You’ve got an answer for everything, huh?"

Miko smiled faintly, though her cheeks flushed pink. "I’m just being practical."

For a moment, he considered arguing again, but the look in her eyes was firm—gentle, but unyielding. Riku exhaled, defeated. "...Fine. We’ll share."

He slid down beside her onto the makeshift bed. The blanket wasn’t wide, so their shoulders brushed lightly. Miko tugged the cover over them both. But the space was cramped and even though they already slept together in one bed before, sleeping with someone who wasn’t your girlfriend was different. Riku lay stiff for a moment, staring at the ceiling as he tried to ignore the warmth brushing against his arm.

But then Miko shifted closer.

At first it was subtle—her shoulder pressing lightly against his. Then bolder. Her head tilted until it rested against his chest, her arm slipping around his side as though it belonged there. The motion wasn’t accidental. She clung to him deliberately, her body curling toward his like she had decided for herself that it was fine if they touched.

Riku blinked down at her, caught off guard. "...Miko?"

"It’s okay... isn’t it?" she whispered.

Riku exhaled slowly. He could feel the thrum of her heartbeat against him, the delicate weight of her arm tightening across his chest. It was grounding, and disarming all at once.

"Yeah," he murmured finally. His hand hovered uncertainly, then rested lightly against her shoulder, careful not to press too hard against her bandaged head. "It’s okay."

Miko’s grip tightened just a little more, her breath warming through his shirt. "Good... because this way, I feel safe."