SPOILER: Click to show

ooc
Around midday, the day of the event.

The sun was shining in the First District. The rains that had fallen earlier had left as fast as they had come. Yoshiya was in the fields of the first district harvesting potatoes, knelt down in the mud, working away with a small trowel which he had hired when he took the job. It wasn't the most taxing of jobs, and it gave Yoshiya time to reflect on that morning's events. It was a dangerous thing for him to do.

He had killed four of the fiends, and he credited himself for saving two people twice. No, not saving. That was the wrong word. He had merely postponed their death. Had he done the right thing?

The rain had washed away whatever had caused the infection, revealing the beasts to be transformed humans. He had attacked to kill. He could have detained some of those that had fallen before him, particularly the two with the overbite. Indeed, he wasn't even sure if they had ever been monsters, or if there was some sort of mass hallucination. He shuddered at the thought.

And what of the boy and the girl? He couldn't say anything about the girl, not recognising her, but the boy had a foul mouth upon him. He lacked decorum and respect. The world may have been better if Yoshiya had left him for dead.

He did not attend the 'after party' on a few grounds, even though the prospect of a free meal was appealing. The tavern was likely to be full and lively, not the sort of environment was comfortable with. Secondly, he would rather not dine with that cretin. He made a mental note to avoid The Notched Axe entirely.

But, dwelling on what could have been would only drive him insane. He was well aware of this, and so snapped his thoughts to the future.

After he had ran into Harupia and handed over Torako he had returned home and retrieved his cloak. Thankfully his lodgings seemed to have been left undamaged by the outbreak, so his personal immediate future was secure, but problems in Rukongai were about to get worse.

Though no-one had any idea on the exact numbers, a lot of people had died or been wounded. That to most people was tragic in itself, but it was a busy time when the first district needed labour to bring in the harvest.

Winter was setting in, and there were many who had lost their homes. Those behemoths tore down buildings so easily. It would take time to rebuild and repair and the smaller supply of labour was already needed in the first.

It looked like dark days were ahead for the Rukons.

Yoshiya looked back at his staff, stuck in the ground, his cloak tied on the end of it in a bindle which held a meagre lunch. A few hours earlier it had been a weapon in battle. But now the real battle was to begin.

Yoshiya worked his usual shift, and took comfort in the normality and monotony of his labour. And come sunset he collected his pay, then set off for home.

It was a quiet, humble life, but it is as he liked it.

[EXIT]