"The Lost", Chapter Three
Title: The Lost
Chapter: 3/10
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): Jun, Aiba, Sho
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, frightening situations.
Summary: Do you remember me? Lost for so long? Will you be on the other side? Will you forget me?
“It is April 19th. Due to possible health threats within Japan, a national quarantine order has been issued…”
The message from that morning repeated in his head. The calm, almost robot-like voice of the government announcer - it was a lie. All of it was a lie, wasn’t it? Who was sending out the broadcasts? Were they being sent from Seoul? Or was it worse than Jun wanted to imagine - were they simply recorded in advance and left behind? To lull the abandoned into believing the lie?
“We’re down twenty boxes. Jun?”
He cleared his throat, settling the packets of potato chips and rice cakes back into the bag he was working with. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry.”
Sho was writing the numbers down on his hand, dark ink smearing against his skin. They’d kept coming to the cardio room. Sure, they’d missed a night, but the results were the same. Food was disappearing. Unless the staff was pocketing it for themselves, it was going to be a problem.
“At least nobody’s taking the rice,” Sho noted. “Can’t exactly be sneaky with the rice cooker.” Sho was good with numbers, far better than Jun was, and at the rate things were being regularly portioned out and the rate that the tastier snacks were disappearing, they’d be down to rice and miso alone by the first week of May. Not that Jun wanted to be trapped for another few weeks.
But what was the alternative? The outside? They’d kept their speculation quiet. Aiba would look ready to ask, to guess just what was leading people to scream and bang on the doors. Whatever it was, it had sent the higher ups abroad and left everyone else to fend for themselves.
Jun got everything in the bag back in order, and a question of his own burned in his brain. Two days at the tip of his tongue, but he hadn’t dared to ask. Aiba was always there. Someone might overhear. And he simply hadn’t had the guts to ask when they’d done the count the night before. But it almost felt cruel and insensitive not to wonder. Despite what had happened, they had been friends, hadn’t they?
“Senpai.”
Sho was eyeing the dwindling boxes of Pocky with a frown. “Yeah?”
“Your father.” He didn’t dare look Sho in the face. “He’s a government official, isn’t he?”
But Sho said nothing, writing a few more numbers down on his hand. Jun didn’t remember exactly - it was just something the other man had mentioned one day, ages ago. Jun didn’t even recall it until seeing the email. If the government was in Seoul, would Sho’s father have gone? Would their whole family have evacuated - but left their older son behind?
They finished the count, only speaking to toss numbers back and forth. A wave of guilt washed over him. He shouldn’t have asked after all. They were all worried enough about what was out there, about their other friends. Jun didn’t like the thought of his family being out there in this either.
Sho gave the storage room a final once over before reaching for the light chain. “He’s not high enough. They probably evacuated the Prime Minister, Cabinet. Probably the Emperor and his family. But not my dad.”
The light went off, and he heard Sho open the door, letting in the glow from the other room’s emergency light. He followed Sho out, closing the storage room as quietly as he could. Getting an answer from Sho had surprised him, so much that he said nothing as they snuck back to their beds.
Aiba was curled up as usual, and Jun felt a bit guilty about not including him. He’d proven himself to be trustworthy and actually rather handy, if his lockpicking skills were anything to go by. But Aiba had enough to worry about - his family, the pounding and screaming, and the truth about the government. Bringing him in on the food would just burden him more.
He laid down, almost instinctively moving to the side closer to Aiba. His iPod was dead, just a useless piece of junk in his backpack, and all he could do was listen to Aiba’s gentle snoring beside him. He felt a finger flick against his forehead. It was Sho.
“What?”
They whispered, knowing Aiba was a deep enough sleeper. “The food. What should we do?”
Jun sighed. “This is your pet project. You’re in a better position to tattle.”
“That’s just it,” Sho said back, barely audible. “If it gets out, people are going to be pissed. We don’t need a riot.”
Sho’s motivation had changed, it seemed. He’d been gung ho about doing an accurate count, ensuring fairness for everyone. But the more they discovered about the outside, the more the situation grew more and more serious, the less they needed to start trouble on the inside.
“And when we run out of food?” he hissed. “What happens then? You’re saying we should just delay the inevitable?”
“No.”
Aiba stirred, hushing the both of them up. Jun held his breath as he just turned around, tugging his blanket to his chin.
Sho continued as soon as Aiba was settled. “We don’t need to be here when it gets that bad.”
Jun swallowed. Sho had heard the screams outside just the same and had been as scared, if not more. Was he actually suggesting they…leave the safety center?
Then again, they weren’t getting any answers in here. They ate, slept, listened to the misleading broadcasts. They were safe - but they were in the dark.
“Just think about it,” Sho whispered. He heard the springs creak on the older man’s cot as he turned over. Aiba mumbled something about Chinese food in his sleep as Jun looked at the gym windows, covered with the tarps. Keeping them blind and ignorant.
“I’ll think about it,” he mumbled.
----
Jun's arms burned, and his grip was slipping.
"Hold it," he choked out, trying to re-position himself beneath the bulk of the weight sending spasms through his entire body. "I'm going to drop this."
"Please don't," came Aiba's concerned voice from the other side of the folded slabs of plastic- the small sticker on the side of the treadmill was a complete liar. There was no way one person could carry it alone; they were having enough trouble with two. The stairs weren't helping any, but there wasn't much they could do about the route they were supposed to take. "If this falls, my toes are squished!"
Jun tried to get one elbow propped against the wall to keep his fingers where they were, gripping the bottom of the machine tightly. "Just- okay, go, but keep it slow."
They started moving again, one foot in front of the other, until they reached the room at the bottom of the stairs- why a gymnasium didn't have a damn elevator, Jun would never know. Perhaps they had never figured the cardio room would need to be emptied to help increase space at meal times for hundreds of refugees from a bizarre disease raging outside.
Even though Jun knew it was true, it was still hard to digest.
"Here," Aiba said, and then there was a muffled 'ouch!' as his back thumped hard against the wall, signaling he had gone too far. "Okay, we can put it down here."
It was sweet relief when Jun was able to put the folded exercise machine on the ground, and he stumbled backwards, half-collapsing against a set of metal shelves. Behind them, there were shuffling footsteps, an 'oomph', and Sho appearing in the basement storage area carrying a box of free weights. When he set it down, the sheen on his forehead was easily visible.
"Remind me again," Jun sighed, "why you volunteered us for this?"
Sho looked annoyed, swatting at loose hairs curling around his ears and sticking to the sweat on his cheeks. "Because if we get closer to the people in charge, we might get new information. If we are trusted, we have an in."
"Moving exercise equipment to the basement is not getting closer," Jun snipped. "It's slave labor, and we are doing it willingly."
Aiba disappeared around the folded machines and shelves full of yoga mats and balance balls, and Jun could hear the clipped sounds of his footsteps echoing through the room.
"We can move that treadmill here," he called. There was a bang, and then a rattle. "Yeah, that one will fit over here!"
Jun glared at the equipment, kicking it lightly- as lightly as he could without damaging it. "I'm not picking this up again. My arms are going to fall off- I need a break."
Aiba replied with a vaguely affirmative noise that Jun assumed to be agreement. He sighed and leaned back further into the shelves. Something hard was poking into his back, but he was too tired to move and re-position himself. It was bad enough that he'd spent nights counting food packets only to have Sho decide not to say anything to the orderlies; now he was manual labor in hopes of getting close enough to get more information.
He didn't think they had information- or at least, if they did, they were definitely not planning on distributing it. If the government left Japan, there was no way they could curtail the riot themselves. And given what Jun knew about whatever was lying in wait outside the safety center bounds... no one was going to be getting details. They'd be kept in the dark for as long as possible, just to keep panic levels to a minimum.
It had started off bad, and it was only getting worse.
Aiba appeared suddenly around the shelves, gesturing furiously for them to follow him. "Come here, come here!"
"I'm not going to help you catch a mouse for a pet," Sho said, tiredly, but he did move over to round the corner the other man was motioning from, and Jun followed. Aiba led them through another set of shelving to the far wall where the jump ropes and step aerobic platforms were kept. There was a door nestled between pegs with hula hoops- a door with a hastily scribbled 'staff only' written in red Sharpie on a piece of paper stuck to it.
Aiba rattled the handle, but it was obviously locked. "Do you think we could get in?"
"Designating things as off-limits just makes you want to enter them more, doesn't it?" Jun said, eyebrows raised.
Aiba grinned and produced his miniature screwdriver again, but Sho reached in and stopped him from inserting the head into the keyhole.
"Wait," Sho breathed. "Last time-"
He didn't have to finish; last time they'd been somewhere they needed to use Aiba's lock-picking skills to get in, they had encountered something beyond the gym walls. Jun didn't think there were any doors in the basement of the gym that led outside- much less in small storage rooms off other storage areas- but Sho had a point. None of them needed more nightmare fodder, they had more than enough already.
Aiba looked at Jun, and then at Sho, and when Jun looked at Sho, he had to swallow back the lump that formed automatically in his throat. Then Sho gave a little nod of acceptance, and Jun slowly let out the air in his lungs, and Aiba turned back to the door. No one spoke as he wriggled the screwdriver around for a few minutes, before the lock acquiesed with a 'snap'.
If the air hadn't been so heavy around his shoulders, he really would have asked how Aiba got so good at that.
He expected something to jump out or be loitering in the shadows or something- anything. Instead, there was a just a quiet, darkened room Aiba flipped the light without much thought, and Jun's muscles tensed again, and then uncoiled when it became obvious there wasn't much inside. Just a bunch of wires in various stages of entanglement littering the ground, and a big switchboard on the far wall that connected to a few microphones and blinking red buttons.
Sho stepped inside, glancing around with his hands on his hips. "PA system."
"This must be where they are piping in that terrible elevator music," Aiba said. He lurched towards the controls. "Let's change it to something better, like pop!"
"Stop," Jun said, immediately, clicking his tongue. "They'll know we were here."
He was ready to leave since there didn't seem to be much of interest, but Sho was examining the dials and knobs with a great deal of concentration.
"Wait, wait," he said. "These are the radio controls."
"So?" Jun asked.
Sho leveled him a glance that easily conveyed how stupid he thought Jun was being. "So we might be able to get information from another radio station."
Jun hadn't thought of that. He glanced over his shoulder at the open door, and then back inside to Sho messing with buttons, and then back to the door. He reached for the handle and pulled it shut. They were better off inside, so that no one else could hear their voices- or the voices of anything they got over the waves.
"Be careful," Jun warned. "Don't change what's going to the speakers."
Sho made an annoyed face, but double-checked a set of green buttons that Jun assumed were the controls to the rest of the gymnasium. Then he took a deep breath, pushed a round gray button, and grabbed for the dial.
The sound of static filled the small area, and no one moved. Jun was afraid to breathe. He was terrified of what they might find- and what might not be there at all. He didn't know which one was more horrifying, so he wasn't sure what to hope for. He just clenched his fingers into fists, fingernails digging into the flesh of his palms.
After a few minutes of jogging through frequencies, Sho's shoulders slumped forward.
"Nothing," he mumbled, defeated. "There's nothing."
"How can there be nothing?" Aiba demanded. "All the radio stations couldn't have gone out, that doesn't make any sense!"
Jun shook his head, and Sho punched the dial one notch further. The static gave way to a voice heavily crackling with interference, but a voice- it was a person nonetheless. Aiba jumped a little bit in surprise, and Jun leaned forward as if it would help him hear better. Sho hunched in, adjusting a few knobs, until they could mostly make out the words coming over the line.
"--Nippon. This is O.S. and today’s date is April 22nd." There was a little 'ping' of notes that sounded like they could have been punched out on an actual xylophone positioned near the mic.
"We are the voice in the silence, the light in the dark. This is Tokyo Survivor Radio. Once again, this is your DJ, O.S."
Jun looked at Sho, whose eyes were wide. The date was right; it was the 22nd. But-
"Survivor radio?" Aiba whispered. Jun couldn't have answered if he wanted to- his heart was in his throat. The voice on the radio continued in the same oddly detached, monotonous tone.
"Today’s top headlines. Golden Week is soon approaching. I hope everyone is excited. April 29 is of course, Showa Day, so be sure to reflect on our great nation. The politicians aren’t here to do it for you. We here at Tokyo Survivor Radio look forward to Children’s Day on May 5. If you can still find some mochi, let us know."
It was surreal. It was too surreal to be happening- but there it was, on the radio all the same. DJ O.S. was speaking like the words coming out of his mouth were no big deal, but every one hit a chord in Jun's chest that resonated throughout his entire body. It sounded like the man was having a friendly conversation at the water cooler during a break, not revealing that everything outside the walls of Safety Center 9 had indeed fallen completely apart.
"To our friends, if any, still in Toshima. Ikebukuro has been overrun, notably the train station. If the bloody trail that goes all the way down to the Yamanote Line platform doesn’t alert you, the smell should. If you keep to yourself, maybe they’ll do the same. Stay out. Stay alive. Tokyo Survivor Radio has received word of a safe haven in Itabashi at Akatsuka Botanical Garden. Make of that what you will. Those were today’s top headlines."
Sho looked horrified and very pale, one hand inching up to cover his mouth.
There was another little 'ping' of music; the sound effects were far more frightening than anything else had been, superimposed against the backdrop of ruin.
"In weather, I don’t know what to tell you. Today was sunny and 18 C. It’s April, so expect more of the same. Maybe some rain. In sports, the Giants did not have a game today. But if they did, I’m sure they would have won. That’s the news for today. We’re broadcasting from none of your business in beautiful downtown Tokyo. This has been O.S. and you’ve been listening to Tokyo Survivor Radio."
There was static, and then the loop started again. "This is not Radio Nippon. This is O.S. and-"
Sho hit the button with the palm of his hand, sending the equipment into silence once more. For a very long time, the three sat in stunned silence without anything to say to break it.
"What..." Aiba started, and then stopped, like he couldn't bear to finish the thought.
"Survivors," Sho said. "Survivor radio, that's what he said. Why would there need to be a survivor radio station?"
Jun swallowed back the sting of bile. "You- you heard what he said, right? About the train station in Ikebukuro? About- about 'they'?"
"Everyone's dead, aren't they?" Aiba whispered, pulling his knees up to his chest. In the dim light of the control panel, his eyes looked watery.
"No," Jun said. "No- everyone can't be dead. This isn't possible."
But he knew it was a lie as soon as the words left his mouth. They'd all heard the screaming beyond the door, the government was gone- and there had been nothing, no information, no word since they'd first been put into the containment center.
"What is going on?" Sho asked aloud, to the silence and the static filling their ears. And Jun had no idea how any of them could possibly answer him.
He sipped from the bottle of water, knowing if he didn't do another few sets of sit-ups that he'd have to go back to the gym. He was sick of the gym. Tired of the flickering scoreboard, tired of hearing the voices of so many different people, and tired of the crumbs that were everywhere as he walked now.
Aiba was doing crunches on the mat next to him, but he was exhausted and only doing one every other minute or so at this point. It had been a few days since their trip down to the basement. The dull, detached voice of the guy broadcasting from Tokyo Survivor Radio. Was it a joke? It hadn't sounded like one.
Things were getting bad inside. For as much as the outside world sounded nightmarish, life in the center was devolving, slowly but surely. There'd been a fight the morning before. A guy had been sleeping and someone else was going through his backpack, trying to steal his wallet. Jun didn't know what currency mattered on the outside any more, given the way the broadcast had sounded, but the others weren't aware. Couldn't possibly be aware.
Petty squabbles were on the rise. Tempers were flaring, people wanted more to eat and more to do. They had so much time, but there was no internet. No phone service. They'd managed to find a television, but none of the channels were coming in. There was a DVD of the university's volleyball team matches in one of the coaches' offices, but everyone had grown weary of watching it.
Sho had taken charge, at least in their area of beds. He'd brought a few books of manga and was giving them away as prizes for trivia questions. He was mostly reading statistics out of his textbook, but the contests were keeping brains busy. Another guy had a guitar, and the people in charge had let him stage impromptu karaoke in one of the other empty offices.
But even that wasn't enough. The food shortage would be noticeable and soon. He'd had rice, miso, water and one cookie a day for the past two days - soon there'd be no cookies for anyone. He wasn't much for sweets, but others were starting to catch on. But the staff stayed tight-lipped, encouraging calm and to listen to the broadcasts and await further instructions. Did the staff even know how bad it was? How much had they been told before they'd gotten shut up in here with a bunch of impatient college kids?
Aiba took the bottle from Jun's hand and took a sip since they hadn't let them have two when it wasn't meal time. "You ready to go back?"
He shook his head. "No." It was quiet in here. The number of students interested in exercise had dwindled as the days passed in idleness. Maybe they'd just given up.
"Tell me something."
Aiba hadn't been overly inquisitive, since like Jun he'd probably spent a lot of time just being scared. He hadn't openly judged or insinuated anything. But Jun had a feeling this had been coming. It was hard to sleep beside someone every night, break into staff rooms with them and see them nearly every hour of the day without getting curious.
"You and Sho. You did know each other before we came here, didn't you?"
He grabbed for the water bottle and took a generous sip. They'd all heard the broadcast. It was bad out there - how many friends did he still have? How many people left that he could trust and confide in? This wasn't really Aiba's business, and Jun thought he'd been past it himself. But close quarters changed everything. Aiba might have been a bit silly but he wasn't blind.
"Yeah."
"I don't mean to pry," he continued. He totally did mean to. It was probably a bit uncomfortable to sleep between two guys who had trouble looking one another in the eye. It wasn't really fair of him and Sho to put Aiba in the middle, intentionally or not.
Jun cleaned his glasses on his shirt, hoping the material wouldn't scrape his lenses. He didn't need the world to be blurry as well as dangerous. "I used to be an econ major. Just econ."
"Oh."
What blanks would Aiba fill in for himself? "I'm not the best student. I didn't even really want to go to university, but I didn't know what I really wanted to do."
"Sounds like most people who end up in liberal arts concentrations."
He rolled his eyes. Spoken like a true member of the science department. "So I started out as general studies. With all the other kids whose parents sent them here. And even if I hadn't wanted to really be in uni, I wasn't as unmotivated as they were. I couldn't stand it. So I enrolled in economics."
"So you met Sho then?"
Sure, there'd been department mixers. Drinking parties, both official and unofficial. Group dates with the girls in his micro lecture. "No, not then. He came in last year. He went to Keio for undergrad you know."
"I didn't." Aiba was impressed, laying on his back and staring at the ceiling with his eyes nearly glazed over. "Wow."
He was telling stuff that was really Sho's to relate, but if Aiba didn't even know where Sho had attended school before, then it was obvious that Sho was keeping things close. "He was a first year grad student, and I was failing macroeconomic theory. He tutored me."
"No wonder you still call him Senpai."
"Yeah."
Aiba was still looking up, eyes distant. Jun didn't feel like volunteering much more. He didn't feel the need to talk about how many hours Sho had sat patiently (and more often impatiently) as he worked on papers, trying to explain complex theories. Or how many times their study sessions had ended up at the bar just so Jun could drink off a particularly difficult lecture and Sho could calm his irritation with him. And how that night after the final exam...
"But you're accounting now," Aiba noted.
Jun nodded. "I wasn't meant for econ. I don't want to get an advanced degree. It's a good minor though. And accounting's good money, more straightforward. More practical applications."
Was Aiba going to ask? So why don't you and Sho get along? Or would he draw his own conclusion? The guy's brain was wired differently from Jun's. He was a scientist - he made predictions, gauged reactions to determine results. What was his hypothesis?
"I'm going to head back," was all Aiba said, getting to his feet and picking up his mat.
Jun stayed there, eyes closed, reminiscing. About how at the end of last semester he'd woken up in bed alone, mortified. And how an hour later he'd gone to the registrar's office to abruptly switch majors.
He shook his head, bending his legs to start another set of sit-ups.
------
Jun put a finger to his lips- it didn't do much in the darkness, with just the emergency exits lighting their way through the corridors. It was mostly for him, and not Aiba, who was creeping ahead of him on his tip-toes while peeking around corners like a spy, plastered up against the wall. Jun waited while the other man checked around, and then gestured for them to follow. The soles of their feet were tiny 'plips' against the linoleum tiles.
Everything was so tense in the gym, so tense they hadn't been able to get out again. Due to the fighting, the cots were watched by hawk-like orderlies and security guards who were just itching to bust someone out of bed after hours. It was beginning to feel far more like a prison than a safety center- and it hadn't felt very free to begin with. Aiba claimed the reason for the latest altercation was because the cookies had finally run out. There was so much more to it than that, but honestly, Jun thought he might be at least partially correct; everything was running out- food, patience, information.
They needed more. They had to get more- they had to find out what was really going on.
They followed Aiba's slowly creeping form down to the storage area and around the folded machines they'd stacked against the walls. It took Aiba a few minutes to get the lock open again, but the room was dark when they entered. Dark and silent, with just the constant hum of machinery against the nothingness.
Sho immediately moved to the dials, switching several on. "Do you think we missed a lot?"
"I don't know," Jun admitted, settling himself down on the floor. Aiba sat down next to him, all arms and legs and angles- his knee hit Jun's thigh hard enough to bruise, but Jun bit back the exclamation and didn't shove the other man away. It was comforting to be able to feel his body heat, as bizarre as the entire situation was. He knew the broadcast- should they pick it up- wasn't going to make him feel fuzzy and comforted inside.
"I hope he's okay," Aiba said, suddenly.
Jun blinked. "Who?"
"The DJ," Aiba said. "O.S. He's out there, right? And- I just hope he's okay, you know?"
Jun hadn't thought of that. He wondered if the DJ was on the run. He wondered if he even needed to be, considering he still didn't know what was lying in wait outside the safety center confines. He really wasn't sure that he wanted to know at all, but somehow not knowing was worse. Not knowing created hundreds of possibilities in his mind, each worse than the last, speculation running rampant.
"Hey," Sho said, suddenly, by the controls. "I got it."
The static streaming through the air was punctuated by more dinging bells- the damn xylophone, or whatever was being played next to the mic. Whoever was running the radio show had a real sadistic streak. It felt inappropriate and out of place to hear happy 'dings' between information about how terrible the city was.
"This is still not Radio Nippon. This is O.S. and today’s date is April 28th." There was a sound effect. "We are the voice in the silence, the light in the dark. This is Tokyo Survivor Radio. Good evening, this is your DJ, O.S."
Beside Jun, Aiba gave a little trill of relief. Sho let his hand fall off the dial and sat down across from the two, one leg underneath his form. He stared at dust gathered in the corner of the room, expression neutral.
"Today’s top headlines.Spring has sprung, hasn’t it? If it’s not a debilitating disease that leaves you with the need to attack your fellow man, it’s allergies."
"What?" Aiba whispered.
Jun's throat had gone dry. "Disease- it makes sense, doesn't it? It was a health threat."
"Yes, hay fever and pollen and all that have descended upon our fair nation. Pharmacies were the first casualties in the beginning days, so please continue to endure with a smile. But remember - if that fever’s more than a fever…if that anger’s more than normal, I’m sorry."
O.S.'s voice stopped, and there was the distinct sound of shuffling over the static. Then there came a second voice, sounding annoyed. "Keep reading!" Sho's eyes shot up a bit, and Jun caught his gaze for a moment- another voice. Another person. So there were at least two people out there manning 'Survivor Radio' somewhere in the heart of the city.
"The rumors of boats for survivors at the American naval base in Yokosuka are just that. Rumors. Be safe if you’re heading down that way. Kanagawa Prefecture’s got it pretty bad." There was another pause. "What?"
Jun couldn't make out what the second person said then, as it was murmurs that flew under the static and intermingled with the white noise. But hearing that it was even further south than simply Tokyo- it shook him, sending shivers up and down his arms. It was everywhere. It had spread to every inch of the country, and he was getting confirmation on it in the basement of a university gymnasium.
"Oh. And we’re getting word that the U.N. blockade extends all the way to Fukuoka. Possibly even farther. Those thinking that south is the way to go will probably be disappointed. Why is there so much Kanji in this?"
"You seriously can’t read that?" the second voice asked.
"No," came O.S.'s response. There was the sound of paper shuffling, like it had gotten too close to the microphone. It was an oddly shrill noise. There was an exasperated sounding sigh from behind the crinkling.
"Just skip to the next one, Jesus fucking Christ."
"Starting next week," O.S. continued without much feeling- his voice was melodic, in a weird way. Comforting in its unflappable-ness, "Tokyo Survivor Radio hits the road. Minato, be on alert. Yours truly, O.S. and director N.K. will be looking for you. Strength in numbers. Here’s our itinerary. Don’t share with the neighbors if they’re losing the skin on their arms…if you know what I mean."
Aiba's eyes went wide. "Losing-?"
Sho's did, too, but Jun suspected it was for radically different reasons. Jun glanced behind him- on the desk, piled up near the PA controls, was a bunch of loose sheets of paper. If they were being given an itinerary, he was going to write it down. Survivor Radio, as it were, was the only link they had to the outside world- and the only information they were getting past whatever blockade the center's higher-ups had put everyone under.
He pulled down several sheets and found a ball-point pen, clicking the nib out.
"Week one is the Shiba area. Fly something blue from May 1 through May 6. We know for sure that we’ll be hanging out near Shimbashi at least. Best of luck to you."
Jun met Sho's gaze, but couldn't read anything in it. Aiba pulled his legs up to his chin, wrapping his arms around his knees like a child.
O.S. continued, calm. "Week two is the Takanawa area. Fly something blue from May 7 through May 12 and maybe we’ll find you. Shirokane, Shirokanedai, Takanawa, Mita. We’ll be on the lookout. Tokyo’s a big city, isn’t it?"
There might have been more grumbling from the second voice then- N.K., if the report was anything to go off of- but Jun could only hear the pen scratching against the paper as he scribbled down the dates. Something blue- they said to fly something blue. But all Jun had was the standard-issue clothing on his back, and that was all white. They'd long since taken his jeans.
"Those were today’s top headlines." There was another cascade of musical notes. "In weather, it rained a lot. My shoes are soaked. That’s the news for today. We’re broadcasting from everywhere and nowhere in beautiful downtown Tokyo. This has been O.S. and you’ve been listening to Tokyo Survivor Radio."
The broadcast paused for few moments, and then started to loop again, and Sho reached up to shut it off with one finger. For what felt like a lifetime, the three sat in silence on the floor of the office, staring at the PA system controls which continously piped comforting piano sonatas over the loudspeakers.
It was Aiba who spoke first. "We have to find them, don't we?"
"It could be a trap," Sho said. It sounded half-hearted. There was something coloring his tone- resignation, maybe?
"I don't think it is," Jun replied, and it was true. He couldn't explain why, but he knew. Whoever was running Survivor Radio wasn't part of whatever was waiting in the shadows; they did have information, however, and seemed willing to share it. It was more than they were going to get within the confines of the gym, in any case, even if they didn't wholly want what information was being offered to them.
Aiba's legs uncurled, and his toe his Jun's calf. "Maybe they are renegades who were part of the government!"
"Maybe," Jun answered. He didn't think so. "Maybe not."
Sho looked lost in thought, and Jun could almost see the cogs turning in the older man's head. Jun put the pen and paper back where they had been originally- save the sheet he used to jot down the dates in which O.S. and N.K. would be in their area. He stood, grabbing into the nearest piping to steady himself, just as there was a colossal bang somewhere beyond the walls, so powerful is shook the floor beneath his feet.
He nearly toppled over. Aiba had been halfway up to his feet, and he did fall- he nearly ended up sprawled over Sho and the chair that rolled across the floor with the vibrations. It shook everything, the piping, the controls- the elevator music skipped a couple of times and managed to work itself back out with a few popping noises, but Jun's breathing refused to do the same.
"What was that?" Aiba whispered.
Jun's fingers tightened subconsciously around the paper in his hand, crumbling it noisily. "An explosion. That was an explosion."
"We have to get back to the gym," Sho hissed. He roughly pushed the wheeled chair away. "They'll be doing a head count."
Aiba moved for the door, rambling even as his hand closed around the handle. "But what was that? What blew up? Oh god, what do you think it was?"
Truth be told, Jun couldn't even venture a guess- it could be anything. Something on University property, the subway tunnels, an office building- they wouldn't know. They couldn't know, not stuck where they were, and he was damn sure nobody in charge was going to be giving them any information.
His feet pounded against the floor as they ran back to the gym. They were too rattled to be quiet, too shaken to be worried; something was going on outside, and they were hopelessly in the dark. They got back to their cots as the voices of the others began to rise into a steady din. Everyone was confused- everyone was afraid. Jun had just pulled the blanket back over his legs when the first of the flashlight beams showed up, moving over the rows of cots.
"Do you think O.S. and N.K. are alright?" Aiba whispered, as the orderlies on the other side of the room bent their heads together, speaking quietly with the guards.
"We'll find out," Sho answered. "Something blue, remember?"
Jun just stared at the flashlights making patterns across the floor, and didn't answer.
Chapter: 3/10
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): Jun, Aiba, Sho
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, frightening situations.
Summary: Do you remember me? Lost for so long? Will you be on the other side? Will you forget me?
“It is April 19th. Due to possible health threats within Japan, a national quarantine order has been issued…”
The message from that morning repeated in his head. The calm, almost robot-like voice of the government announcer - it was a lie. All of it was a lie, wasn’t it? Who was sending out the broadcasts? Were they being sent from Seoul? Or was it worse than Jun wanted to imagine - were they simply recorded in advance and left behind? To lull the abandoned into believing the lie?
“We’re down twenty boxes. Jun?”
He cleared his throat, settling the packets of potato chips and rice cakes back into the bag he was working with. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry.”
Sho was writing the numbers down on his hand, dark ink smearing against his skin. They’d kept coming to the cardio room. Sure, they’d missed a night, but the results were the same. Food was disappearing. Unless the staff was pocketing it for themselves, it was going to be a problem.
“At least nobody’s taking the rice,” Sho noted. “Can’t exactly be sneaky with the rice cooker.” Sho was good with numbers, far better than Jun was, and at the rate things were being regularly portioned out and the rate that the tastier snacks were disappearing, they’d be down to rice and miso alone by the first week of May. Not that Jun wanted to be trapped for another few weeks.
But what was the alternative? The outside? They’d kept their speculation quiet. Aiba would look ready to ask, to guess just what was leading people to scream and bang on the doors. Whatever it was, it had sent the higher ups abroad and left everyone else to fend for themselves.
Jun got everything in the bag back in order, and a question of his own burned in his brain. Two days at the tip of his tongue, but he hadn’t dared to ask. Aiba was always there. Someone might overhear. And he simply hadn’t had the guts to ask when they’d done the count the night before. But it almost felt cruel and insensitive not to wonder. Despite what had happened, they had been friends, hadn’t they?
“Senpai.”
Sho was eyeing the dwindling boxes of Pocky with a frown. “Yeah?”
“Your father.” He didn’t dare look Sho in the face. “He’s a government official, isn’t he?”
But Sho said nothing, writing a few more numbers down on his hand. Jun didn’t remember exactly - it was just something the other man had mentioned one day, ages ago. Jun didn’t even recall it until seeing the email. If the government was in Seoul, would Sho’s father have gone? Would their whole family have evacuated - but left their older son behind?
They finished the count, only speaking to toss numbers back and forth. A wave of guilt washed over him. He shouldn’t have asked after all. They were all worried enough about what was out there, about their other friends. Jun didn’t like the thought of his family being out there in this either.
Sho gave the storage room a final once over before reaching for the light chain. “He’s not high enough. They probably evacuated the Prime Minister, Cabinet. Probably the Emperor and his family. But not my dad.”
The light went off, and he heard Sho open the door, letting in the glow from the other room’s emergency light. He followed Sho out, closing the storage room as quietly as he could. Getting an answer from Sho had surprised him, so much that he said nothing as they snuck back to their beds.
Aiba was curled up as usual, and Jun felt a bit guilty about not including him. He’d proven himself to be trustworthy and actually rather handy, if his lockpicking skills were anything to go by. But Aiba had enough to worry about - his family, the pounding and screaming, and the truth about the government. Bringing him in on the food would just burden him more.
He laid down, almost instinctively moving to the side closer to Aiba. His iPod was dead, just a useless piece of junk in his backpack, and all he could do was listen to Aiba’s gentle snoring beside him. He felt a finger flick against his forehead. It was Sho.
“What?”
They whispered, knowing Aiba was a deep enough sleeper. “The food. What should we do?”
Jun sighed. “This is your pet project. You’re in a better position to tattle.”
“That’s just it,” Sho said back, barely audible. “If it gets out, people are going to be pissed. We don’t need a riot.”
Sho’s motivation had changed, it seemed. He’d been gung ho about doing an accurate count, ensuring fairness for everyone. But the more they discovered about the outside, the more the situation grew more and more serious, the less they needed to start trouble on the inside.
“And when we run out of food?” he hissed. “What happens then? You’re saying we should just delay the inevitable?”
“No.”
Aiba stirred, hushing the both of them up. Jun held his breath as he just turned around, tugging his blanket to his chin.
Sho continued as soon as Aiba was settled. “We don’t need to be here when it gets that bad.”
Jun swallowed. Sho had heard the screams outside just the same and had been as scared, if not more. Was he actually suggesting they…leave the safety center?
Then again, they weren’t getting any answers in here. They ate, slept, listened to the misleading broadcasts. They were safe - but they were in the dark.
“Just think about it,” Sho whispered. He heard the springs creak on the older man’s cot as he turned over. Aiba mumbled something about Chinese food in his sleep as Jun looked at the gym windows, covered with the tarps. Keeping them blind and ignorant.
“I’ll think about it,” he mumbled.
----
Jun's arms burned, and his grip was slipping.
"Hold it," he choked out, trying to re-position himself beneath the bulk of the weight sending spasms through his entire body. "I'm going to drop this."
"Please don't," came Aiba's concerned voice from the other side of the folded slabs of plastic- the small sticker on the side of the treadmill was a complete liar. There was no way one person could carry it alone; they were having enough trouble with two. The stairs weren't helping any, but there wasn't much they could do about the route they were supposed to take. "If this falls, my toes are squished!"
Jun tried to get one elbow propped against the wall to keep his fingers where they were, gripping the bottom of the machine tightly. "Just- okay, go, but keep it slow."
They started moving again, one foot in front of the other, until they reached the room at the bottom of the stairs- why a gymnasium didn't have a damn elevator, Jun would never know. Perhaps they had never figured the cardio room would need to be emptied to help increase space at meal times for hundreds of refugees from a bizarre disease raging outside.
Even though Jun knew it was true, it was still hard to digest.
"Here," Aiba said, and then there was a muffled 'ouch!' as his back thumped hard against the wall, signaling he had gone too far. "Okay, we can put it down here."
It was sweet relief when Jun was able to put the folded exercise machine on the ground, and he stumbled backwards, half-collapsing against a set of metal shelves. Behind them, there were shuffling footsteps, an 'oomph', and Sho appearing in the basement storage area carrying a box of free weights. When he set it down, the sheen on his forehead was easily visible.
"Remind me again," Jun sighed, "why you volunteered us for this?"
Sho looked annoyed, swatting at loose hairs curling around his ears and sticking to the sweat on his cheeks. "Because if we get closer to the people in charge, we might get new information. If we are trusted, we have an in."
"Moving exercise equipment to the basement is not getting closer," Jun snipped. "It's slave labor, and we are doing it willingly."
Aiba disappeared around the folded machines and shelves full of yoga mats and balance balls, and Jun could hear the clipped sounds of his footsteps echoing through the room.
"We can move that treadmill here," he called. There was a bang, and then a rattle. "Yeah, that one will fit over here!"
Jun glared at the equipment, kicking it lightly- as lightly as he could without damaging it. "I'm not picking this up again. My arms are going to fall off- I need a break."
Aiba replied with a vaguely affirmative noise that Jun assumed to be agreement. He sighed and leaned back further into the shelves. Something hard was poking into his back, but he was too tired to move and re-position himself. It was bad enough that he'd spent nights counting food packets only to have Sho decide not to say anything to the orderlies; now he was manual labor in hopes of getting close enough to get more information.
He didn't think they had information- or at least, if they did, they were definitely not planning on distributing it. If the government left Japan, there was no way they could curtail the riot themselves. And given what Jun knew about whatever was lying in wait outside the safety center bounds... no one was going to be getting details. They'd be kept in the dark for as long as possible, just to keep panic levels to a minimum.
It had started off bad, and it was only getting worse.
Aiba appeared suddenly around the shelves, gesturing furiously for them to follow him. "Come here, come here!"
"I'm not going to help you catch a mouse for a pet," Sho said, tiredly, but he did move over to round the corner the other man was motioning from, and Jun followed. Aiba led them through another set of shelving to the far wall where the jump ropes and step aerobic platforms were kept. There was a door nestled between pegs with hula hoops- a door with a hastily scribbled 'staff only' written in red Sharpie on a piece of paper stuck to it.
Aiba rattled the handle, but it was obviously locked. "Do you think we could get in?"
"Designating things as off-limits just makes you want to enter them more, doesn't it?" Jun said, eyebrows raised.
Aiba grinned and produced his miniature screwdriver again, but Sho reached in and stopped him from inserting the head into the keyhole.
"Wait," Sho breathed. "Last time-"
He didn't have to finish; last time they'd been somewhere they needed to use Aiba's lock-picking skills to get in, they had encountered something beyond the gym walls. Jun didn't think there were any doors in the basement of the gym that led outside- much less in small storage rooms off other storage areas- but Sho had a point. None of them needed more nightmare fodder, they had more than enough already.
Aiba looked at Jun, and then at Sho, and when Jun looked at Sho, he had to swallow back the lump that formed automatically in his throat. Then Sho gave a little nod of acceptance, and Jun slowly let out the air in his lungs, and Aiba turned back to the door. No one spoke as he wriggled the screwdriver around for a few minutes, before the lock acquiesed with a 'snap'.
If the air hadn't been so heavy around his shoulders, he really would have asked how Aiba got so good at that.
He expected something to jump out or be loitering in the shadows or something- anything. Instead, there was a just a quiet, darkened room Aiba flipped the light without much thought, and Jun's muscles tensed again, and then uncoiled when it became obvious there wasn't much inside. Just a bunch of wires in various stages of entanglement littering the ground, and a big switchboard on the far wall that connected to a few microphones and blinking red buttons.
Sho stepped inside, glancing around with his hands on his hips. "PA system."
"This must be where they are piping in that terrible elevator music," Aiba said. He lurched towards the controls. "Let's change it to something better, like pop!"
"Stop," Jun said, immediately, clicking his tongue. "They'll know we were here."
He was ready to leave since there didn't seem to be much of interest, but Sho was examining the dials and knobs with a great deal of concentration.
"Wait, wait," he said. "These are the radio controls."
"So?" Jun asked.
Sho leveled him a glance that easily conveyed how stupid he thought Jun was being. "So we might be able to get information from another radio station."
Jun hadn't thought of that. He glanced over his shoulder at the open door, and then back inside to Sho messing with buttons, and then back to the door. He reached for the handle and pulled it shut. They were better off inside, so that no one else could hear their voices- or the voices of anything they got over the waves.
"Be careful," Jun warned. "Don't change what's going to the speakers."
Sho made an annoyed face, but double-checked a set of green buttons that Jun assumed were the controls to the rest of the gymnasium. Then he took a deep breath, pushed a round gray button, and grabbed for the dial.
The sound of static filled the small area, and no one moved. Jun was afraid to breathe. He was terrified of what they might find- and what might not be there at all. He didn't know which one was more horrifying, so he wasn't sure what to hope for. He just clenched his fingers into fists, fingernails digging into the flesh of his palms.
After a few minutes of jogging through frequencies, Sho's shoulders slumped forward.
"Nothing," he mumbled, defeated. "There's nothing."
"How can there be nothing?" Aiba demanded. "All the radio stations couldn't have gone out, that doesn't make any sense!"
Jun shook his head, and Sho punched the dial one notch further. The static gave way to a voice heavily crackling with interference, but a voice- it was a person nonetheless. Aiba jumped a little bit in surprise, and Jun leaned forward as if it would help him hear better. Sho hunched in, adjusting a few knobs, until they could mostly make out the words coming over the line.
"--Nippon. This is O.S. and today’s date is April 22nd." There was a little 'ping' of notes that sounded like they could have been punched out on an actual xylophone positioned near the mic.
"We are the voice in the silence, the light in the dark. This is Tokyo Survivor Radio. Once again, this is your DJ, O.S."
Jun looked at Sho, whose eyes were wide. The date was right; it was the 22nd. But-
"Survivor radio?" Aiba whispered. Jun couldn't have answered if he wanted to- his heart was in his throat. The voice on the radio continued in the same oddly detached, monotonous tone.
"Today’s top headlines. Golden Week is soon approaching. I hope everyone is excited. April 29 is of course, Showa Day, so be sure to reflect on our great nation. The politicians aren’t here to do it for you. We here at Tokyo Survivor Radio look forward to Children’s Day on May 5. If you can still find some mochi, let us know."
It was surreal. It was too surreal to be happening- but there it was, on the radio all the same. DJ O.S. was speaking like the words coming out of his mouth were no big deal, but every one hit a chord in Jun's chest that resonated throughout his entire body. It sounded like the man was having a friendly conversation at the water cooler during a break, not revealing that everything outside the walls of Safety Center 9 had indeed fallen completely apart.
"To our friends, if any, still in Toshima. Ikebukuro has been overrun, notably the train station. If the bloody trail that goes all the way down to the Yamanote Line platform doesn’t alert you, the smell should. If you keep to yourself, maybe they’ll do the same. Stay out. Stay alive. Tokyo Survivor Radio has received word of a safe haven in Itabashi at Akatsuka Botanical Garden. Make of that what you will. Those were today’s top headlines."
Sho looked horrified and very pale, one hand inching up to cover his mouth.
There was another little 'ping' of music; the sound effects were far more frightening than anything else had been, superimposed against the backdrop of ruin.
"In weather, I don’t know what to tell you. Today was sunny and 18 C. It’s April, so expect more of the same. Maybe some rain. In sports, the Giants did not have a game today. But if they did, I’m sure they would have won. That’s the news for today. We’re broadcasting from none of your business in beautiful downtown Tokyo. This has been O.S. and you’ve been listening to Tokyo Survivor Radio."
There was static, and then the loop started again. "This is not Radio Nippon. This is O.S. and-"
Sho hit the button with the palm of his hand, sending the equipment into silence once more. For a very long time, the three sat in stunned silence without anything to say to break it.
"What..." Aiba started, and then stopped, like he couldn't bear to finish the thought.
"Survivors," Sho said. "Survivor radio, that's what he said. Why would there need to be a survivor radio station?"
Jun swallowed back the sting of bile. "You- you heard what he said, right? About the train station in Ikebukuro? About- about 'they'?"
"Everyone's dead, aren't they?" Aiba whispered, pulling his knees up to his chest. In the dim light of the control panel, his eyes looked watery.
"No," Jun said. "No- everyone can't be dead. This isn't possible."
But he knew it was a lie as soon as the words left his mouth. They'd all heard the screaming beyond the door, the government was gone- and there had been nothing, no information, no word since they'd first been put into the containment center.
"What is going on?" Sho asked aloud, to the silence and the static filling their ears. And Jun had no idea how any of them could possibly answer him.
He sipped from the bottle of water, knowing if he didn't do another few sets of sit-ups that he'd have to go back to the gym. He was sick of the gym. Tired of the flickering scoreboard, tired of hearing the voices of so many different people, and tired of the crumbs that were everywhere as he walked now.
Aiba was doing crunches on the mat next to him, but he was exhausted and only doing one every other minute or so at this point. It had been a few days since their trip down to the basement. The dull, detached voice of the guy broadcasting from Tokyo Survivor Radio. Was it a joke? It hadn't sounded like one.
Things were getting bad inside. For as much as the outside world sounded nightmarish, life in the center was devolving, slowly but surely. There'd been a fight the morning before. A guy had been sleeping and someone else was going through his backpack, trying to steal his wallet. Jun didn't know what currency mattered on the outside any more, given the way the broadcast had sounded, but the others weren't aware. Couldn't possibly be aware.
Petty squabbles were on the rise. Tempers were flaring, people wanted more to eat and more to do. They had so much time, but there was no internet. No phone service. They'd managed to find a television, but none of the channels were coming in. There was a DVD of the university's volleyball team matches in one of the coaches' offices, but everyone had grown weary of watching it.
Sho had taken charge, at least in their area of beds. He'd brought a few books of manga and was giving them away as prizes for trivia questions. He was mostly reading statistics out of his textbook, but the contests were keeping brains busy. Another guy had a guitar, and the people in charge had let him stage impromptu karaoke in one of the other empty offices.
But even that wasn't enough. The food shortage would be noticeable and soon. He'd had rice, miso, water and one cookie a day for the past two days - soon there'd be no cookies for anyone. He wasn't much for sweets, but others were starting to catch on. But the staff stayed tight-lipped, encouraging calm and to listen to the broadcasts and await further instructions. Did the staff even know how bad it was? How much had they been told before they'd gotten shut up in here with a bunch of impatient college kids?
Aiba took the bottle from Jun's hand and took a sip since they hadn't let them have two when it wasn't meal time. "You ready to go back?"
He shook his head. "No." It was quiet in here. The number of students interested in exercise had dwindled as the days passed in idleness. Maybe they'd just given up.
"Tell me something."
Aiba hadn't been overly inquisitive, since like Jun he'd probably spent a lot of time just being scared. He hadn't openly judged or insinuated anything. But Jun had a feeling this had been coming. It was hard to sleep beside someone every night, break into staff rooms with them and see them nearly every hour of the day without getting curious.
"You and Sho. You did know each other before we came here, didn't you?"
He grabbed for the water bottle and took a generous sip. They'd all heard the broadcast. It was bad out there - how many friends did he still have? How many people left that he could trust and confide in? This wasn't really Aiba's business, and Jun thought he'd been past it himself. But close quarters changed everything. Aiba might have been a bit silly but he wasn't blind.
"Yeah."
"I don't mean to pry," he continued. He totally did mean to. It was probably a bit uncomfortable to sleep between two guys who had trouble looking one another in the eye. It wasn't really fair of him and Sho to put Aiba in the middle, intentionally or not.
Jun cleaned his glasses on his shirt, hoping the material wouldn't scrape his lenses. He didn't need the world to be blurry as well as dangerous. "I used to be an econ major. Just econ."
"Oh."
What blanks would Aiba fill in for himself? "I'm not the best student. I didn't even really want to go to university, but I didn't know what I really wanted to do."
"Sounds like most people who end up in liberal arts concentrations."
He rolled his eyes. Spoken like a true member of the science department. "So I started out as general studies. With all the other kids whose parents sent them here. And even if I hadn't wanted to really be in uni, I wasn't as unmotivated as they were. I couldn't stand it. So I enrolled in economics."
"So you met Sho then?"
Sure, there'd been department mixers. Drinking parties, both official and unofficial. Group dates with the girls in his micro lecture. "No, not then. He came in last year. He went to Keio for undergrad you know."
"I didn't." Aiba was impressed, laying on his back and staring at the ceiling with his eyes nearly glazed over. "Wow."
He was telling stuff that was really Sho's to relate, but if Aiba didn't even know where Sho had attended school before, then it was obvious that Sho was keeping things close. "He was a first year grad student, and I was failing macroeconomic theory. He tutored me."
"No wonder you still call him Senpai."
"Yeah."
Aiba was still looking up, eyes distant. Jun didn't feel like volunteering much more. He didn't feel the need to talk about how many hours Sho had sat patiently (and more often impatiently) as he worked on papers, trying to explain complex theories. Or how many times their study sessions had ended up at the bar just so Jun could drink off a particularly difficult lecture and Sho could calm his irritation with him. And how that night after the final exam...
"But you're accounting now," Aiba noted.
Jun nodded. "I wasn't meant for econ. I don't want to get an advanced degree. It's a good minor though. And accounting's good money, more straightforward. More practical applications."
Was Aiba going to ask? So why don't you and Sho get along? Or would he draw his own conclusion? The guy's brain was wired differently from Jun's. He was a scientist - he made predictions, gauged reactions to determine results. What was his hypothesis?
"I'm going to head back," was all Aiba said, getting to his feet and picking up his mat.
Jun stayed there, eyes closed, reminiscing. About how at the end of last semester he'd woken up in bed alone, mortified. And how an hour later he'd gone to the registrar's office to abruptly switch majors.
He shook his head, bending his legs to start another set of sit-ups.
------
Jun put a finger to his lips- it didn't do much in the darkness, with just the emergency exits lighting their way through the corridors. It was mostly for him, and not Aiba, who was creeping ahead of him on his tip-toes while peeking around corners like a spy, plastered up against the wall. Jun waited while the other man checked around, and then gestured for them to follow. The soles of their feet were tiny 'plips' against the linoleum tiles.
Everything was so tense in the gym, so tense they hadn't been able to get out again. Due to the fighting, the cots were watched by hawk-like orderlies and security guards who were just itching to bust someone out of bed after hours. It was beginning to feel far more like a prison than a safety center- and it hadn't felt very free to begin with. Aiba claimed the reason for the latest altercation was because the cookies had finally run out. There was so much more to it than that, but honestly, Jun thought he might be at least partially correct; everything was running out- food, patience, information.
They needed more. They had to get more- they had to find out what was really going on.
They followed Aiba's slowly creeping form down to the storage area and around the folded machines they'd stacked against the walls. It took Aiba a few minutes to get the lock open again, but the room was dark when they entered. Dark and silent, with just the constant hum of machinery against the nothingness.
Sho immediately moved to the dials, switching several on. "Do you think we missed a lot?"
"I don't know," Jun admitted, settling himself down on the floor. Aiba sat down next to him, all arms and legs and angles- his knee hit Jun's thigh hard enough to bruise, but Jun bit back the exclamation and didn't shove the other man away. It was comforting to be able to feel his body heat, as bizarre as the entire situation was. He knew the broadcast- should they pick it up- wasn't going to make him feel fuzzy and comforted inside.
"I hope he's okay," Aiba said, suddenly.
Jun blinked. "Who?"
"The DJ," Aiba said. "O.S. He's out there, right? And- I just hope he's okay, you know?"
Jun hadn't thought of that. He wondered if the DJ was on the run. He wondered if he even needed to be, considering he still didn't know what was lying in wait outside the safety center confines. He really wasn't sure that he wanted to know at all, but somehow not knowing was worse. Not knowing created hundreds of possibilities in his mind, each worse than the last, speculation running rampant.
"Hey," Sho said, suddenly, by the controls. "I got it."
The static streaming through the air was punctuated by more dinging bells- the damn xylophone, or whatever was being played next to the mic. Whoever was running the radio show had a real sadistic streak. It felt inappropriate and out of place to hear happy 'dings' between information about how terrible the city was.
"This is still not Radio Nippon. This is O.S. and today’s date is April 28th." There was a sound effect. "We are the voice in the silence, the light in the dark. This is Tokyo Survivor Radio. Good evening, this is your DJ, O.S."
Beside Jun, Aiba gave a little trill of relief. Sho let his hand fall off the dial and sat down across from the two, one leg underneath his form. He stared at dust gathered in the corner of the room, expression neutral.
"Today’s top headlines.Spring has sprung, hasn’t it? If it’s not a debilitating disease that leaves you with the need to attack your fellow man, it’s allergies."
"What?" Aiba whispered.
Jun's throat had gone dry. "Disease- it makes sense, doesn't it? It was a health threat."
"Yes, hay fever and pollen and all that have descended upon our fair nation. Pharmacies were the first casualties in the beginning days, so please continue to endure with a smile. But remember - if that fever’s more than a fever…if that anger’s more than normal, I’m sorry."
O.S.'s voice stopped, and there was the distinct sound of shuffling over the static. Then there came a second voice, sounding annoyed. "Keep reading!" Sho's eyes shot up a bit, and Jun caught his gaze for a moment- another voice. Another person. So there were at least two people out there manning 'Survivor Radio' somewhere in the heart of the city.
"The rumors of boats for survivors at the American naval base in Yokosuka are just that. Rumors. Be safe if you’re heading down that way. Kanagawa Prefecture’s got it pretty bad." There was another pause. "What?"
Jun couldn't make out what the second person said then, as it was murmurs that flew under the static and intermingled with the white noise. But hearing that it was even further south than simply Tokyo- it shook him, sending shivers up and down his arms. It was everywhere. It had spread to every inch of the country, and he was getting confirmation on it in the basement of a university gymnasium.
"Oh. And we’re getting word that the U.N. blockade extends all the way to Fukuoka. Possibly even farther. Those thinking that south is the way to go will probably be disappointed. Why is there so much Kanji in this?"
"You seriously can’t read that?" the second voice asked.
"No," came O.S.'s response. There was the sound of paper shuffling, like it had gotten too close to the microphone. It was an oddly shrill noise. There was an exasperated sounding sigh from behind the crinkling.
"Just skip to the next one, Jesus fucking Christ."
"Starting next week," O.S. continued without much feeling- his voice was melodic, in a weird way. Comforting in its unflappable-ness, "Tokyo Survivor Radio hits the road. Minato, be on alert. Yours truly, O.S. and director N.K. will be looking for you. Strength in numbers. Here’s our itinerary. Don’t share with the neighbors if they’re losing the skin on their arms…if you know what I mean."
Aiba's eyes went wide. "Losing-?"
Sho's did, too, but Jun suspected it was for radically different reasons. Jun glanced behind him- on the desk, piled up near the PA controls, was a bunch of loose sheets of paper. If they were being given an itinerary, he was going to write it down. Survivor Radio, as it were, was the only link they had to the outside world- and the only information they were getting past whatever blockade the center's higher-ups had put everyone under.
He pulled down several sheets and found a ball-point pen, clicking the nib out.
"Week one is the Shiba area. Fly something blue from May 1 through May 6. We know for sure that we’ll be hanging out near Shimbashi at least. Best of luck to you."
Jun met Sho's gaze, but couldn't read anything in it. Aiba pulled his legs up to his chin, wrapping his arms around his knees like a child.
O.S. continued, calm. "Week two is the Takanawa area. Fly something blue from May 7 through May 12 and maybe we’ll find you. Shirokane, Shirokanedai, Takanawa, Mita. We’ll be on the lookout. Tokyo’s a big city, isn’t it?"
There might have been more grumbling from the second voice then- N.K., if the report was anything to go off of- but Jun could only hear the pen scratching against the paper as he scribbled down the dates. Something blue- they said to fly something blue. But all Jun had was the standard-issue clothing on his back, and that was all white. They'd long since taken his jeans.
"Those were today’s top headlines." There was another cascade of musical notes. "In weather, it rained a lot. My shoes are soaked. That’s the news for today. We’re broadcasting from everywhere and nowhere in beautiful downtown Tokyo. This has been O.S. and you’ve been listening to Tokyo Survivor Radio."
The broadcast paused for few moments, and then started to loop again, and Sho reached up to shut it off with one finger. For what felt like a lifetime, the three sat in silence on the floor of the office, staring at the PA system controls which continously piped comforting piano sonatas over the loudspeakers.
It was Aiba who spoke first. "We have to find them, don't we?"
"It could be a trap," Sho said. It sounded half-hearted. There was something coloring his tone- resignation, maybe?
"I don't think it is," Jun replied, and it was true. He couldn't explain why, but he knew. Whoever was running Survivor Radio wasn't part of whatever was waiting in the shadows; they did have information, however, and seemed willing to share it. It was more than they were going to get within the confines of the gym, in any case, even if they didn't wholly want what information was being offered to them.
Aiba's legs uncurled, and his toe his Jun's calf. "Maybe they are renegades who were part of the government!"
"Maybe," Jun answered. He didn't think so. "Maybe not."
Sho looked lost in thought, and Jun could almost see the cogs turning in the older man's head. Jun put the pen and paper back where they had been originally- save the sheet he used to jot down the dates in which O.S. and N.K. would be in their area. He stood, grabbing into the nearest piping to steady himself, just as there was a colossal bang somewhere beyond the walls, so powerful is shook the floor beneath his feet.
He nearly toppled over. Aiba had been halfway up to his feet, and he did fall- he nearly ended up sprawled over Sho and the chair that rolled across the floor with the vibrations. It shook everything, the piping, the controls- the elevator music skipped a couple of times and managed to work itself back out with a few popping noises, but Jun's breathing refused to do the same.
"What was that?" Aiba whispered.
Jun's fingers tightened subconsciously around the paper in his hand, crumbling it noisily. "An explosion. That was an explosion."
"We have to get back to the gym," Sho hissed. He roughly pushed the wheeled chair away. "They'll be doing a head count."
Aiba moved for the door, rambling even as his hand closed around the handle. "But what was that? What blew up? Oh god, what do you think it was?"
Truth be told, Jun couldn't even venture a guess- it could be anything. Something on University property, the subway tunnels, an office building- they wouldn't know. They couldn't know, not stuck where they were, and he was damn sure nobody in charge was going to be giving them any information.
His feet pounded against the floor as they ran back to the gym. They were too rattled to be quiet, too shaken to be worried; something was going on outside, and they were hopelessly in the dark. They got back to their cots as the voices of the others began to rise into a steady din. Everyone was confused- everyone was afraid. Jun had just pulled the blanket back over his legs when the first of the flashlight beams showed up, moving over the rows of cots.
"Do you think O.S. and N.K. are alright?" Aiba whispered, as the orderlies on the other side of the room bent their heads together, speaking quietly with the guards.
"We'll find out," Sho answered. "Something blue, remember?"
Jun just stared at the flashlights making patterns across the floor, and didn't answer.