A moment later, another figure appeared from behind her.
Airi Kurotsuchi.
Same eyes that hid her expression.
Same hair and her scent.
There was a stack of papers in her hand.
"Mei, come into the kitchen," Mom called aloud.
She went downstairs.
Airi stepped into the room, looking everywhere as her eyes followed: ceiling, anime figures, messy clothes, and the PC, anime posters.
She sat in the chair near me.
"You're still alive," she said.
"That's quite a question you've got there."
She placed the bag full of papers on my desk.
"Worksheets. The teacher asked someone to deliver them."
"And you volunteered?"
"Yes."
Mei came to the door with juice for her. But when she saw Airi and Ren talking together, she looked suspicious.
"You know this girl?"
Ren nodded once.
"I'm Airi Kurotsuchi. We are classmates," she said.
Mei squinted at me and said, "You actually have a friend who visits you?"
"....Please leave," Ren commanded.
Mei clicked her tongue. "Stupid brother."
She finally walked away with the juice she got for Airi and shut the door.
Airi turned to me. "Your sister is cute."
"Are you here just to tell me that?"
She fell silent.
My breathing all of a sudden was heavy.
"You're burning up."
"Thank you. I can also feel it."
"Why didn't you come to the rooftop?"
Straight to the point...
"I got sick, you know."
"That was two days ago."
I couldn't speak.
She moved a little closer to the bed. Her hand reached my head.
"High fever."
She watched my face for a moment. Then she did something familiar. She lifted her finger to her lips. She held it out and asked, "Lick it."
"You came all the way here for that?"
Thank God, even in my fever, my brain protested.
"You're sick."
"Yes, I am."
"And to cure you, you need my saliva."
I didn't argue. I couldn't. My body was too weak.
She simply moved closer and pressed her fingertip gently against my lower lip.
"You need this," she said quietly.
"No," I screamed.
"I won't," I protested. "Now please leave."
Then she leaned back.
"I didn't think. I have to do this."
She started unbuttoning her uniform.
There are certain moments in your life where your brain simply gives up.
The kind of mental shutdown that happens when reality stops making any effort to be believable.
A mysterious girl enters your room.
You have a very high fever. But she tells you to lick her saliva.
And without warning, she starts to unbutton her uniform.
My brain just finally stops doing anything.
"Wait."
Still calm, she slipped the blazer off and placed it over the chair.
My fever might have gone down a little bit, but my body temperature was attempting to come back in full force.
"Airi," my voice cracked in panic, "what are you doing?"
She stared at me like I had asked what color her underwear was.
"Showing you something."
"I think you shouldn't show me anything while I'm sick."
She loosened her ribbon and began unfastening the buttons of her shirt.
I turned my face immediately, but my brain was telling me just to take a peek.
"Are you insane?"
"No."
"You are taking off your clothes in my room."
"Yes."
"That's why I'm complaining."
I was panicking like crazy, but she was calm as usual.
She didn't even look embarrassed.
"Look," she said quietly.
"I shouldn't."
"Look."
Reluctantly, and with all the emotional readiness of a man about to regret every decision that led to this point, I turned my head back.
But I was stunned at the sight in front of me.
Her shirt slipped just enough to expose part of her shoulder, collarbone, and upper breasts.
But that wasn't what left me stunned.
It was the scars. Thin white lines. A few jagged. A few surgical.
There were uneven patterns, like traces left behind by something violent.
For a moment, all my panic left me.
"What the hell?" I whispered.
Airi lowered her gaze.
"Sometimes my body breaks."
The whole room went quiet. The voice in my throat disappeared.
I stared at the marks again.
She slowly buttoned her shirt back up halfway, then sat down beside my bed.
Her expression was calm. Too calm. Like someone talking about the rain when they should be talking about death instead.
"I need you to understand before this goes any further," she said.
My throat felt dry. "Understand what?"
Then she said the sentence that officially ended any remaining chance of my life being normal.
"I'm a zombie."