"Still alive." Scar looked up at Tsubaki as if that said it all. He was, by some unfair force that seemed determined to keep him breathing, still here. he pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes. He was tired.

"No recent deaths, at least among those that I know of." There was the paranoia. Not seeing a person for even a shift or two. Somebody doesn't show up for breakfast. It takes them a little extra time to get started at night. It was constant and draining, the need to account for every familiar face at every given moment. It was like being in the war all over again. Has anybody seen him? Is she all right? Where are they, they should have been here an hour ago!

And there was nobody to take it out on, because the madman behind it all hid behind a microphone.