Night inside the tower never became truly quiet. Even long after most survivors tried to sleep, noise still echoed endlessly through the massive building. Arguments somewhere on the lower floors. Crying children. Coughing. Footsteps moving through hallways. The distant metallic sound of soldiers adjusting barricades during patrol shifts. It was the sound of hundreds of exhausted people trying desperately to survive another day together without falling apart completely.

Arata Kurozawa stood near one of the upper-floor windows, silently watching the dark city outside while faint rain tapped against cracked glass. Below, the ruined streets stretched endlessly beneath the night sky, empty at first glance yet still carrying that uncomfortable feeling of movement hiding somewhere beyond sight.

This tower looked alive compared to the dead world outside.

But barely.

"You don’t sleep much either?"

The voice came from behind him.

Daichi Moriyama approached slowly, holding two metal cups filled with steaming coffee that smelled far stronger than anything they expected to still exist after the apocalypse.

Yuna immediately appeared from nearby the moment she smelled it.

"...No way," she said suspiciously. "Where did you get coffee?"

Daichi almost laughed. "Trade."

"You traded for coffee during the apocalypse?"

"There are still people trying to feel human."

Yuna stared at the cup for two seconds before immediately taking it. "...I respect that."

Daichi handed the second cup toward Arata. "...You too."

Arata accepted it quietly, For a few moments none of them spoke.

Rain continued hitting the windows softly.

Far below, distant infected cries echoed faintly between buildings.

Daichi leaned slightly against the wall nearby, his tired eyes watching the dark city carefully. Up close, the exhaustion on his face became more visible. The man looked like someone who hadn’t properly rested in months.

"You’ve survived outside for a long time," Daichi said eventually.

"Yes."

"...Most people don’t last a week."

Yuna smirked while drinking coffee. "...Most people are weak."

Daichi glanced at her briefly. "...Confidence like that usually gets people killed."

"Not me."

"...You remind me of someone."

Yuna blinked slightly. "...Who?"

For the first time since meeting him—Daichi’s expression changed, Not dramatically.But enough.

"My daughter."

Silence followed immediately.Yuna slowly lowered the cup.

"...You had a daughter?"

Daichi nodded once, his gaze returning toward the city. "Akari. Twenty years old." A faint smile appeared on his face despite the exhaustion. "Loud. Reckless. Always arguing with me."

"...Sounds annoying," Yuna muttered quietly.

Daichi actually laughed softly at that. "Very."

Something about that small laugh felt strange in this world.

Too normal, Too human.

Airi approached from the hallway nearby, carrying folded blankets before stopping after noticing everyone gathered together. "...Oh... sorry..."

"You’re fine," Daichi said gently. "Come sit."

Airi hesitated before carefully joining them, The atmosphere remained calm for once.

No immediate danger, No fighting.

Just tired people sitting together during the middle of the apocalypse pretending for a few minutes that life hadn’t completely collapsed.

"...What was she like?" Airi asked softly.

Daichi stayed silent for a moment, Then answered.

"She hated military rules," he said with a faint smile. "Always complained that I treated life like strategy." His expression softened slightly while remembering. "But every time I came home late... she still waited awake."

Even Yuna stayed quiet now.

"...Where is she?" Airi asked carefully.

The silence after that question lasted too long.

And suddenly—Everyone understood.

Daichi looked back toward the rain-covered city.

"...I don’t know."

No one spoke after that, Because sometimes the worst answer wasn’t death.

It was uncertainty.

A person disappearing into a collapsing world without closure, Without proof, Without goodbye.

Daichi slowly drank the remaining coffee before continuing quietly. "When evacuation failed, I was deployed outside the city." His voice stayed calm, but there was heaviness beneath every word now. "Communication collapsed. Orders collapsed. Everything collapsed." He gave a tired laugh. "By the time I came back..."

He stopped there.Didn’t finish, Didn’t need to.

Arata watched him silently, The tower suddenly made more sense now.

Why Daichi stayed, Why he carried responsibility even while exhausted, Why he kept trying to save people who constantly fought each other.

Because maybe—If he kept enough people alive—He could convince himself he hadn’t failed the person he couldn’t protect.

"...This building wasn’t supposed to become permanent," Daichi continued quietly. "At first we thought rescue would come. Military support. Government response. Something." He looked down toward the lower floors where faint arguments still echoed even this late at night. "But people became desperate faster than infected did."

Yuna leaned back slightly. "...Humans always do."

Daichi nodded slowly. "...Food shortages started first. Then medicine. Then fear." His tired eyes narrowed slightly. "Fear changes people faster than hunger."

That line stayed in the air heavily.

Because everyone there knew it was true.

Airi looked down slightly. "...Do you think everyone here can survive?"

Daichi answered honestly.

"No."

That honesty hurt more than false hope ever could.

"Every day I choose who gets medicine first. Who eats more. Who gets assigned dangerous patrols." His expression hardened slightly now. "People think leadership means authority." He looked toward Arata briefly. "It actually means carrying guilt."

Arata remained silent, But those words stayed with him.

Because deep down—He understood them already, More than he wanted to. Suddenly loud shouting echoed from somewhere below.

"...Again?" Yuna muttered.

One of Daichi’s soldiers appeared moments later looking exhausted.

"Captain, there’s another fight near the third-floor supply room."

Daichi closed his eyes briefly.

Just one second, Like a man already tired before the next problem even began.

Then he stood immediately anyway.

"...I’m coming."

Before leaving, he paused beside Arata.

"You observe everything," Daichi said quietly. "The building. The soldiers. The people." His eyes sharpened slightly. "Why?"Yuna looked curious immediately.

But Arata answered honestly.

"...Because I want to understand why places like this collapse."

Daichi stared at him silently for several seconds.

Then—For the first time—He smiled properly.

Not tired, Not forced, Real.

"...Good answer."

And then he left.The hallway became quiet again afterward.

Yuna leaned back against the wall while staring toward the direction Daichi disappeared. "...He’s carrying this entire place by himself," she muttered.

Kaede suddenly spoke from nearby the shadows where no one noticed she had been standing.

"...Not for much longer."

Everyone looked at her.

Kaede’s eyes moved calmly toward the lower floors.

"The people here are close to breaking." 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

Far below them, another argument exploded into shouting.

Then something shattered, Then screaming, Not infected, Just humans.

Airi tightened her grip on the blanket slightly. "...This place feels scary sometimes."

"It should," Reina said while approaching from another hallway. "People trapped together eventually become dangerous."

Arata looked back out toward the rain-covered city again.

Then toward the crowded floors below.

Then finally toward the hallway where Daichi disappeared.

This tower wasn’t failing because of zombies.

It was failing because humanity itself was slowly collapsing inside it.

And somehow—Daichi Moriyama was still trying to hold all of it together with nothing except exhaustion, discipline, and pure stubbornness.

But Arata could already see the truth.

No matter how strong Daichi was—One man alone could not carry hundreds of desperate people forever.

Eventually—Something would break.