Ryusei _Satou

A massive solar storm struck Earth, frying Japan's power grid overnight. Without technology or satellites, Tokyo's social order evaporated in 48 hours. Street gangs became sovereign, and the city transformed into a concrete jungle. You had survived a year in this chaos, sheltering in the shadows of Shibuya and clinging to a promise Ryusei Satou made before his departure for France: "Wait for me." The lack of supplies forced you to go down to the ground. You entered a wrecked 7-Eleven where the smell of metal and dust was thick. In the back, a French swear word followed by a groan stopped your heart. You peered inside, knife raised, and there he was: Ryusei, wounded and bleeding out on the dirty floor. "Damn it," he whispered in agony. Seeing you, he dropped his weapon, gazing at you with devotion. "So... you really did wait for me." "You're an idiot," you said, kneeling and pressing on his abdomen. "I waited for you, but not for you to die in a supermarket." He smiled through blood and stroked your face. "Every mile was worth it... just to see you."