They finished the last of their breakfast, brushing crumbs off their hands as they climbed down the treehouse ladder one by one. The forest air felt cooler on the ground, damp earth still holding the chill of the night.
Tenya stretched, rolled his shoulders, then suddenly said,
"Okay… hear me out. What if we actually build a house down here?"
Mirko froze mid-step.
"A house on the ground?" he asked, blinking. "Bro, that's a death wish. Something will eat you before you finish the roof."
Tenya held up a hand defensively. "We can build a fence!"
He gestured around them. "Look at this place. We're surrounded by free wood. Actual wood! Why can't we carve out our own zone? Our own little safe settlement?"
Mirko stared at him like he just confessed to licking tree bark for fun.
"Okay… and when exactly are you saying we're starting this brilliant suicide mission?"
Tenya shrugged, calm as ever.
"Today. We have a couple axes. We can clean up the ground, cut some logs, map out a perimeter."
A silence hung in the air. Everyone's gaze bounced between Tenya, who looked like he was ready to build a kingdom, and Mirko, who looked ready to throw him in a hole.
Finally, Anna spoke up, brushing hair behind her ear.
"I mean… Mirko kind of has a point."
"Yeah, I guess," Aiko added, though she didn't sound convinced.
Mirko spread his arms wide. "See? Even the normal people agree with me."
Tenya wasn't backing down. "We can't stay in a tree forever. One bad storm and your treehouse becomes firewood."
Mirko clicked his tongue.
"Fine. But today was supposed to be looting day. Remember? We're low on supplies unless you guys wanna drink leaf juice for lunch."
Tenya nodded. "So we divide the work. Some of us scavenge, some stay to start clearing the ground."
"Obviously," Mirko said, pointing to himself, "I'm on the scavenge team. I own this forest. Well… me and Bear. Mostly Bear."
Aiko instantly shot her hand up.
"Yes! I'm going with him."
She didn't even try to hide it.
Anna gave her a side-eye and whispered, "Yeah… I'll stay with Tenya and Izuku. I don't wanna be a third wheel today."
Izuku grunted, not looking up from adjusting his shotgun strap. Tenya sighed like he already regretted the arrangement.
"Okay then, it's settled," Tenya said. "Anna and Izuku help me with clearing. Mirko and Aiko go get supplies."
Mirko slung his scavenging bag over his shoulder and nodded sharply.
"Cool. Let's move. Aiko, you're with me."
Aiko jogged after him, beaming.
"Try not to get lost," Mirko teased over his shoulder.
"I should be saying that to you," she shot back.
The two of them disappeared into the forest brush while the others stood watching.
The forest was quieter than usual, sunlight dripping through the leaves in broken golden patches. Aiko walked a step behind Mirko at first, watching how he moved — relaxed, hands tucked into his hoodie pocket like he knew every inch of this place.
After a few minutes of silence, she cleared her throat.
"So… what do you actually do when you're alone? Like, all day."
Mirko stepped over a fallen log and shrugged.
"Survive, I guess. Eat. Fix stuff. Talk to myself."
He smirked. "Pretty exciting, I know."
Aiko laughed softly. "Talking to yourself? That's a red flag."
"Oh please," he said. "I bet you talk to yourself too."
"Only in my head," she replied, nudging a pebble. "Out loud would make me look crazy."
"Nah," Mirko said. "Out loud means you're honest with yourself."
She looked at him thoughtfully. "That's… actually kind of deep."
He blinked. "Really? Damn. Didn't mean it to be."
They kept walking. Birds rustled above them, and every so often a branch snapped somewhere in the distance, making Aiko tense a little. She tried hiding it, but Mirko noticed — he pretended not to say anything, slowing his pace just enough so she walked beside him instead of behind.
"So what about you?" he asked. "What did you do back in the zone? Before all this runaway stuff?"
Aiko hesitated. "Me? Nothing impressive. Helped around. Learned how to clean rifles. Worked in kitchens sometimes. Tried not to get yelled at."
"Sounds fun," Mirko said with a sarcastic grin.
"Yeah, super fun," she replied. "Your life sounds more like a forest adventure."
Mirko scoffed. "Forest adventure? Bro, half the time it's dumb luck I don't get eaten."
Aiko snorted, laughing harder than she expected.
Mirko smiled a little wider hearing that.
"They talked about random things — favorite foods, music they missed, dumb moments they had as kids. Nothing too heavy, nothing too dramatic. Just… normal."
After an hour.
Then Mirko stopped walking and pointed ahead.
"Here we are."
A small, half-collapsed convenience store sat tucked between two trees. Vines crawled over the windows, but the door was still intact.
"That store there," Mirko said, "is untouched. Unlooted.
Aiko's eyes widened.
"Seriously? It looks like it hasn't been opened in years."
"Exactly." Mirko nodded. "Let's start there."
He tugged the door handle, then stepped aside dramatically.
"After you."
Aiko smirked and brushed past him.
"Try to keep up, forest king."
And they slipped into the shadowed doorway, ready to see what the world had left behind.
The front door groaned as Mirko shoved it open. Dust drifted into the sunlight, swirling like tiny ghosts. Shelves were knocked over, wrappers scattered everywhere, but the air still held the faint smell of metal and old plastic.
Aiko stepped inside carefully. "Wow… this place is a mess."
"Yeah," Mirko said, kicking aside a broken mop handle. "Looks like a bear tried shopping."
He wandered deeper into the store—then froze.
His whole face lit up.
"Omg look at this!" he practically shouted.
Aiko jerked her head up. "What—?"
Mirko was kneeling in a corner, brushing dirt off something bulky and rectangular.
"Solar panels," he whispered dramatically, like he'd just discovered buried treasure. "Aiko… do you know what this means? We could actually have our own electricity."
Aiko crossed her arms. "Okay, yeah, cool. But umm… how are you planning to carry all of that back?"
Mirko's smile faltered. He stared at the pile of panels on the floor.
"Oh… shoot."
He scratched his head. "Umm… you're right."
Aiko raised an eyebrow, waiting.
"Buttttt…" Mirko continued slowly, as if trying to convince himself,
"…we could actually carry one, right? Just one? A small one?"
Aiko blinked at him. "Are you kidding me?"
"No," he said proudly. "We need light. You know—nighttime? Scary animals? Me tripping every ten minutes?"
"That last one is your problem, not the forest's," she muttered.
He ignored that and started looking around again.
"Oh! Look! Light bulbs!" Mirko picked up a dusty box from under a fallen shelf. "Still unbroken. Hope they're working."
"Yeah, obviously," Aiko said.
Mirko twisted one in his hand, squinting. "Umm… do they get expired too?"
Aiko slowly turned to him.
"…Mirko."
"You know what—don't answer that," he cut in before she could speak. "I heard how that sounded."
She shook her head, biting back a laugh.
"Let's just grab useful stuff before you ask if wires go bad too."
"They do??" Mirko gasped.
Aiko stared.
Mirko sighed. "Okay, shutting up now."
They continued through the aisles, picking up batteries, tools, half-usable first-aid supplies, and anything that didn't smell like death. Every so often, Mirko would shout "Treasure!" and Aiko would tell him to lower his voice before something actually alive heard them.
It felt less like looting and more like two kids pretending to shop in a ruined world — a weird, warm kind of normal.
They'd already spent ten minutes digging through shelves and racks when Aiko's hand brushed against something — a metal handle half-buried behind fallen boxes.
"Hey… what's this?" she murmured.
Mirko looked up from comparing two rusted screwdrivers. "Found a treasure chest?"
Aiko rolled her eyes and tugged on the handle. The door didn't budge.
"…Locked," she said.
Mirko walked over, kicked the door once, and instantly regretted it. "Ow—okay, that's solid."
Aiko stepped back, studied the hinges, then planted a solid kick right where the wood had rotted.
CRACK.
The whole door gave way, swinging open with a groan.
"Ayo—what the—?!" Mirko stared at her.
She just shrugged. "What? You loosened it."
But any teasing died instantly as cold, white light spilled out from the room.
Aiko's eyes widened. "Mirko… you need to see this."
He stepped beside her — and his jaw dropped.
The storeroom stretched wide, shelves perfectly lined with food: canned goods, sealed bags of rice, bottles of water stacked neatly, packets of spices, even instant noodles. Everything arranged like the world hadn't ended.
The lights hummed softly overhead, steady and alive.
"Wait…" Mirko whispered, stepping inside slowly. "Is someone here?"
Aiko shook her head, rubbing her finger across a shelf. Thick dust clung to her skin.
"I don't think so. Look — no one's touched this in years."
Mirko glanced up at the ceiling. "Maybe the solar panels on the roof are still powering everything."
The reality hit him all at once — food, light, supplies, everything they'd been struggling to find for months.
"Omg…" he breathed.
Then louder, laughing, "Aiko… we're rich. We're actually rich!"
Aiko couldn't help smiling back at him — cheeks warming slightly. "Yeah… let's fill these bags up."
Mirko grabbed his backpack, grinning like a kid on his birthday.
"Let's do it!"
Side by side, they hurried down the aisles, grabbing everything they could carry, their excitement echoing softly in the bright, forgotten room.
It felt like hope. And for once, hope didn't feel scary.
After fifteen full minutes of stuffing every pocket, corner, and zipper, their bags finally gave out — straps snapping, seams tearing, cans rolling across the dusty floor.
"Aww… poor bags," Mirko sighed, holding the broken strap like it betrayed him. "Guess that's a sign. We gotta head back. Our friends must be starving… and honestly, same."
Aiko chuckled breathlessly. "Yeah. Let's go before we're tempted to loot this whole building."
Mirko pointed dramatically at the solar panel leaning outside the back door.
"Hey, solar panel… don't worry. I'm coming for you tomorrow."
He patted it like it was a pet.
Aiko laughed. "Stop joking and move out."
Mirko tugged the snapped door back into place. "We're closing this — last thing we want is this turning into an animal shopping mall."
"Right," Aiko nodded.
They pushed open the front door and stepped into the sunlight—
and froze.
A massive silhouette waited just a few meters ahead, blocking their path.
Red eyes.
Brown, mud-coated fur.
A rumbling snarl that vibrated through the ground.
The same infected bear.
Aiko's breath hitched—her bag slipped from her hand and hit the ground with a thud.
Mirko felt his heartbeat shoot into his throat.
His legs nearly gave out.
But Aiko's trembling behind him snapped something awake inside him.
His voice cracked, but he still forced it out.
"A-Aiko… behind me."
She didn't question him.
Her hands shook violently as she pressed herself behind his back, clinging to his shirt.
The bear stepped closer, slow and deliberate, the crimson in its eyes glowing like burning coals.
Mirko's hands were trembling so hard he could barely reach his pocket… but he forced them steady enough and pulled out the pistol he'd found days earlier.
Aiko let out a soft, terrified cry into his shoulder.
"M-Mirko…"
"I know," he whispered. "Just stay low."
The bear roared — a deep, monstrous sound that shook dust from the roof.
Then it charged.
Time slowed.
Mirko didn't think — instincts took over.
He grabbed Aiko by the shoulder and shoved her sideways, just as the bear's paw slammed into his chest.
The impact knocked the air out of him — a shockwave of pain exploding across his ribs as he hit the ground.
But his finger was already on the trigger.
BANG.
The shot cracked through the city ruins.
The bear stumbled, roaring in pain, but it wasn't enough.
It launched again.
Mirko fired a second shot — missed — then a third.
The fourth connected.
But still the beast came.
The massive paw raked across his chest, tearing through fabric and skin. Hot pain seared across him — but adrenaline drowned it out.
Mirko didn't scream.
He gritted his teeth, raised the pistol again with shaking hands—
BANG. BANG. BANG.
The final bullet hit true — the bear staggered, legs wobbling.
It let out a broken, guttural groan and collapsed to the ground, twitching, fighting death even now.
Aiko crawled toward him on shaking hands and knees, tears streaking her dust-covered cheeks.
"Mirko—Mirko! Oh my god—are you okay?!"
Mirko was gasping, clutching his bleeding chest, adrenaline still burning in his veins.
He managed a weak laugh.
"…Told you… there's a psycho bear out here…"
Aiko didn't laugh.
She grabbed his face, pulling him close, eyes wide with fear.
"Don't joke right now— you could've died!"
Mirko's vision blurred, but he reached up and squeezed her arm.
"But I didn't… because I pushed you first."
The bear lay still now—silent, defeated.
And the two of them knelt in the debris, chests rising and falling, alive by inches.