Untouched by the Outbreak

Sachiko finished preparing breakfast as the smell of freshly baked bread filled the house. Ryo sat at the table, already enjoying the meal. The sight of him eating well brought a smile to her face. It had been so long since they'd had something as simple and comforting as fresh bread, and now, with the abundance of supplies they had stockpiled, it felt like a small luxury.

The flour, sugar, honey, and other ingredients they scavenged filled the storage rooms—more than enough to last for years.

She sat across from Ryo, savoring the bread she'd baked. It was a simple dish, but it brought them both a sense of normalcy amid the chaos of their world. Ryo seemed pleased, a rare, calm expression on his face as he chewed slowly, enjoying each bite.

"How is it?" Sachiko asked, her voice soft, curious.

Ryo looked up at her, his eyes briefly softening. "It's good."

That single compliment meant everything to Sachiko. She nodded and smiled, feeling a warmth in her chest. After all the hardships, she was glad to have found a rhythm in this life. Not only were they surviving, but they were slowly reclaiming small comforts like good food.

With the many rooms in their house stocked with dried food, rice, flour, and other essentials, Sachiko felt more secure than she had in a long time. She also had books—another treasure from their scavenging trips—and was eager to try new recipes she'd learned. Cooking had become a way to occupy her time, a reminder of her life before all of this, and a way to contribute to their little household.

"I'll try something new tomorrow," Sachiko said, a little spark of excitement in her voice.

Ryo nodded but remained focused on his meal. To him, food was fuel. But to Sachiko, it was more than that—it was a way to create moments of happiness, even in a world overrun by the undead.

Sachiko watched as Ryo walked over to one of the rooms, returning with a large box of biscuits. He glanced at her and casually mentioned, "We should put some of these in jars." His voice, though always straightforward, carried a tone of practicality that she'd come to appreciate.

Looking at the pile of boxes, Sachiko realized just how much they had. The store they'd scavenged from was untouched, filled with crates of biscuits, crackers, and other preserved foods. With their stockpile, they could afford to keep some out for daily use while the rest stayed stored away safely.

She grabbed a few jars from the kitchen shelf, wiping them clean and smiling to herself. "It'll be nice to have these ready. Maybe we could even make some tea to go with it later." The idea of having tea with biscuits, something so simple yet so distant in this world, made her feel a bit of joy.

As she filled the jars, Sachiko couldn't help but think of all the other things she was eager to make—cakes, pies, and other desserts. The thought of trying her hand at baking something special excited her. It wasn't just survival anymore; it was about making a life, no matter how bleak the outside world seemed.

"We'll have to try baking something sweeter next time," she said, almost to herself, as she sealed the biscuit jars. Ryo, always focused on the practical side of things, gave a brief nod but didn't respond. She didn't mind. Just knowing they had the supplies and safety to do something so normal was enough for now.

Sachiko felt a wave of silent gratitude as she looked around the house, knowing how well Ryo had prepared everything for them. He had meticulously ensured their survival, even when the world outside was in chaos. She was especially thankful for the way he maintained the heaters, making sure they had warmth through the winter nights.

Her thoughts drifted to one of the rooms in the house, which was dedicated to their energy needs. It was where Ryo had installed a large solar battery bank, providing them with power during the day, even on cloudy days. The setup was impressive—two massive solar batteries that could power the entire house. She had never seen such systems in use when she was working as a researcher at the stronghold.

The room also housed a portable generator, just in case the solar setup wasn't enough. She remembered how Ryo had scavenged it from a store, siphoning fuel from an abandoned station. It gave them a backup power source, one they hadn't needed yet, but knowing it was there gave her peace of mind.

Ryo's foresight and planning made her feel safe, something she hadn't felt in a long time, especially after the cold, structured life at the government stronghold. Here, with Ryo, everything was functional and purposeful. But there was also a comfort in knowing they were more than just surviving—they were living.

She quietly continued her work, her thoughts filled with appreciation for the life they now had.

Sachiko's mind wandered as she prepared more of their supplies. She couldn't help but wonder how Ryo had been living before all of this. He seemed to know how to do everything—scavenging, securing supplies, handling zombies, even making sure their base was well-stocked and protected. It was as if he had always been prepared for a world like this.

She had seen him handle weapons with ease, siphon fuel without hesitation, and command the zombies like they were his personal army. But what kind of life had he lived before the outbreak? How had he learned to be so resourceful and fearless?

She wanted to ask, but there was a lingering fear that held her back. Ryo wasn't the type to share his thoughts or past easily, and she was afraid of pushing him too far. She didn't want to upset him or make him angry by prying into his life.

Yet, the curiosity remained. She glanced at him across the room, wondering if she'd ever get the chance to know more about the man who had saved her and now protected her in this harsh new world.

Sachiko sighed softly, deciding to keep her thoughts to herself for now. She realized she didn't even know Ryo's age—there was so much about him that remained a mystery. His calm demeanor, his ability to handle everything so effortlessly, made him seem older, wiser, but she wasn't sure.

As much as she wanted to know more about him, she understood that asking too many questions could lead to problems. Ryo was a private person, and pushing him for answers might only create tension between them. She didn't want to jeopardize the fragile bond they had built, especially after everything they had been through together.

For now, she decided to leave it. There would be time for questions later, when things were calmer, when their survival wasn't the only thing on the line. She glanced at Ryo, busy with his own thoughts, and smiled softly to herself. As long as they were together, that was enough.

Sachiko often heard Ryo murmur in his sleep, sometimes calling out names like Aiko and Sakura. At first, she thought it might just be her imagination, but after hearing it repeatedly, she began to wonder who they were. Were they people from his past? Loved ones he had lost? Friends? Lovers?

She had never seen any pictures of them, nor had Ryo ever mentioned them while awake. The mystery surrounding those names gnawed at her curiosity, but much like her questions about his age and past, she felt hesitant to bring it up. Ryo had never been the type to share more than he needed to, and she feared that prying into his personal life would only push him away.

Still, it was hard not to wonder. Who were Aiko and Sakura? What role did they play in Ryo's life? And why had he never spoken about them?

Despite her curiosity, Sachiko knew better than to ask. There was a part of Ryo that remained closed off, hidden, and she sensed that digging into his past might stir something she wasn't ready to face. She sighed softly, deciding that some mysteries were best left alone, at least for now.

For now, she would focus on the present—their survival, their strange yet comfortable life together, and the fact that, for some reason, Ryo had chosen her to stay by his side. That was enough.

Sachiko took a deep breath, gathering her courage. She knew she had to be careful with how she brought up the subject. Ryo wasn't one to share much about his past, and she had no idea how he would react.

As she cleared the dishes from breakfast, she glanced at him and spoke softly, "Ryo… I've heard you talking in your sleep a few times. You mentioned some names… Aiko and Sakura…"

The moment the words left her mouth, she saw it—the subtle shift in Ryo's expression. His face darkened, and his eyes narrowed, the usual calmness replaced by something colder, sharper. For a brief moment, it was as if she had crossed an invisible line.

Ryo didn't say anything at first. His jaw tightened, and Sachiko could feel the tension in the air. She bit her lip, wondering if she had made a mistake. She was about to backtrack, to apologize and say it was nothing, but before she could, Ryo finally spoke.

His voice was low, almost a growl. "That's not something you need to worry about, Sachiko."

The sternness in his tone made it clear this wasn't a topic he wanted to discuss. His eyes locked onto hers, serious and a little angry. Sachiko felt a chill run down her spine. She realized that she had touched on something deeply personal—something Ryo wasn't ready or willing to share.

She quickly nodded, lowering her gaze. "I… I didn't mean to pry. I'm sorry, Ryo."

He didn't respond immediately, just staring at her for a moment longer, as if weighing her words. Then, with a dismissive grunt, he stood up, heading toward the door.

"Don't bring it up again," he said over his shoulder before walking outside to check on his army of zombies.

Sachiko let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew now—Aiko and Sakura were more than just names from his past. But whatever they meant to Ryo, it was something he wasn't ready to share. Not yet.