The exit door closed with a click, hydraulics engaging to seal them back inside.
At the front door, a new figure appeared, climbing onto the bus step by trembling step. The movement was slow and pained, each foot placement clearly an effort.
Everyone's gaze unconsciously converged on this new arrival, watching as he made his way up and into the bus proper.
A male figure with disheveled hair that hung down to partially obscure his face. The features beneath were unclear, blurred somehow even when looking directly at them. His blue casual clothes were tattered and torn, fabric hanging in strips that revealed skin beneath. Everything was covered in a mixture of dust and liquid that looked black in some places and deep red in others.
Tap...
Tap...
He struggled with each step, walking backward bit by bit down the aisle. His dark eyes moved slowly as he surveyed everything, taking in the interior of the bus and its passengers with an expression that was hard to read on that indistinct face.
"It hurts..."
"I'm torn apart."
The voice was barely louder than a whisper, but in the silence of the bus it carried clearly. He kept muttering the same phrases over and over like a broken record.
The blue-haired delinquent and middle-aged man carefully glanced toward the new arrival, trying not to draw attention but unable to help looking. What they saw made their hearts race even faster and their bodies begin trembling all over again.
The man's abdomen was a horrific mess, a bloody wound that had torn through fabric and flesh alike. The edges looked ragged, like something had been ripped rather than cut. In an instant, both of them understood they were looking at a fatal injury.
Don't come over here, don't come over here, please god don't sit near us.
They prayed desperately to whatever higher power might be listening. Amaterasu, Buddha, Jesus Christ, anyone who might help.
Especially the middle-aged man, whose terror had reached extreme levels. He was sitting in a double seat, and with the young man dead, there was now an empty spot right beside him. An invitation for this wounded anomaly to take a seat.
The middle-aged man had already clasped his hands together tightly in prayer, his knuckles going white from the pressure. He kept his eyes locked on his lap, refusing to look up and potentially make eye contact with the approaching anomaly. His lips moved in silent prayer to every deity he could think of, begging for mercy, for salvation, for this nightmare to pass him by.
But when he finally couldn't help himself and glanced up through his eyelashes, he saw the worst thing possible. The anomaly had stopped moving right at his row, standing in the aisle next to the empty seat.
His breathing stopped completely for several seconds.
The middle-aged man's survival instincts kicked into overdrive. He gritted his teeth hard enough to make his jaw ache, then shifted his weight and moved his body to sit in the aisle seat instead of the window seat. The movement was quick and jerky, motivated by pure terror.
Whatever happened next, he didn't want that thing sitting right beside him with no escape route. At least in the aisle seat he could potentially run if necessary, even if running probably meant death.
The anomaly watched this repositioning with those dark, indistinct eyes. For a moment it seemed like it might follow, might take that window seat anyway.
But then it moved again, continuing its backward shuffle down the aisle.
Relief flooded through the middle-aged man so intensely it made him dizzy. His gamble had worked. The thing was passing him by, moving on to someone else. He almost wanted to laugh from the sheer release of tension, but kept his mouth firmly shut.
The blue-haired guy sitting alone in the single seat on the right side watched the anomaly approach his area and felt his stomach drop. But at least he was in a single seat. The thing couldn't sit next to him. That was something. That was good.
The anomaly moved past him too, that shuffling backward walk continuing down the aisle.
It finally stopped at the row directly behind the middle-aged man, where an empty double seat waited. The muttering continued as it lowered itself into the seat, movements stiff and pained.
"It hurts."
"I'm torn apart."
"It's falling out..."
The eerie words kept coming, that voice just barely above a whisper but audible in the oppressive quiet of the bus.
Rumble rumble...
The bus started moving forward again, pulling back onto whatever impossible road it traveled. The interior settled into relative calm, broken only by the engine's steady vibration and the wounded anomaly's quiet muttering.
Hayato's mind was working through possibilities. This round of boarding and exiting couldn't be that simple. There had to be hidden trouble somewhere, some rule they were missing that would manifest soon.
Once the bus had pulled fully onto the road and reached a steady speed, Hayato activated his time stop ability again. The world froze around him, colors muting and sounds cutting off.
He stood up and approached the anomaly that had just boarded, studying it carefully in the frozen moment.
The face was already unclear in normal time, but now with everything stopped Hayato could examine it more closely. The features seemed to shift and blur even in stillness, like they couldn't hold a stable form. The eyes were a grayish-black color that didn't reflect light properly. The tattered blue clothes had fused with the body's flesh in places, fabric and skin merged together in ways that looked painful.
Hayato forced himself to ignore the discomfort of what he was seeing and reached out to pull back the clothing. The fabric peeled away with resistance, stuck to the wound beneath by dried blood and other fluids.
In the faint light of the bus interior, he could finally see the anomaly's physical condition clearly.
A ten-centimeter wound ran across the abdomen, edges ragged and torn. Black-red liquid continuously seeped from it, soaking through what remained of the clothes. The injury matched exactly what the anomaly had been muttering about.
A normal human with a wound like this wouldn't even be able to walk, much less climb onto a bus. They'd already be dead from blood loss and shock.
Hayato checked the anomaly's pockets carefully, searching for anything that might provide information or context. But there was nothing useful, just some lint and a few coins that meant nothing.
He returned to his seat and released the time stop, settling back into place beside Nanase Ren.
The bus moved steadily forward through the darkness, engine rumbling with that constant vibration that had become almost hypnotic.
Nanase Ren gently tapped Hayato's arm to get his attention, then turned her phone screen toward him so he could read what she'd typed.
Which stop can we get off?
Hayato took the phone and typed back quickly.
Fourth stop, Chiba Station. Next stop is the second.
Still three more stops to go.
Nanase Ren read the message and felt a mix of emotions. Three more stops sounded like forever when every minute on this bus was terrifying. But at least there was a concrete endpoint now, a destination she could focus on. Hope existed, even if it felt far away.
By this point she'd adapted somewhat to the situation, the initial shock wearing off enough that she could think more clearly. At least there was a real chance of surviving and leaving this place, and that was better than the alternative.
All thanks to Hayato. Without him, she'd probably be dead already, her head exploded on the floor like those first two victims.
Suddenly her gaze dropped and she noticed something that made her blood run cold. Hayato's abdomen was wet, the fabric darkened with moisture. As a nurse, she was particularly sensitive to the smell of blood, and that metallic scent was unmistakable.
That was definitely blood.
Tap tap tap...
She pulled at his sleeve urgently and pointed to his abdomen, eyes wide with concern.
Hayato looked down and saw that his abdomen area was indeed wet and sticky. Without hesitation, he lifted his shirt to check underneath and found a small wound on his stomach with blood slowly seeping out.
Contaminated by the anomaly's rules.
The realization hit him immediately. Being near that wounded anomaly had triggered some kind of sympathetic injury, probably affecting everyone on the bus.
He looked at Nanase Ren and reached toward her, but she instinctively stopped his hand. Hayato realized he could just indicate for her to check herself rather than doing it for her.
He pointed downward at her own abdomen.
Nanase Ren's hands trembled as she lifted her shirt slightly, just enough to see her stomach. A small wound was there, blood welling up slowly from torn skin. The injury didn't hurt at all, which somehow made it more terrifying. Bleeding without pain meant something was very wrong.
Her face went pale as the color drained from her cheeks. She looked at Hayato with pleading eyes, silently begging for help, for an explanation, for anything that would make this stop.
The blue-haired delinquent had noticed the problem too. His hands frantically patted his own stomach and came away wet with blood. Panic flashed across his face as he stared at the red staining his palms.
Why was he bleeding? What was causing this? He didn't want to die from blood loss here on this cursed bus.
His gaze turned to Hayato, desperate for guidance like everyone else.
Hayato thought for a moment, then stood up and walked toward the driver's seat at the front of the bus. Under their confused and worried gazes, he reached behind the driver's position and took down the first aid kit mounted on the wall. The white box with its red cross symbol looked almost absurdly normal in this supernatural nightmare.
Carrying the kit, he approached the wounded anomaly that had recently boarded.
Click...
The first aid kit opened with a simple mechanical sound.
Looking at the contents inside, Hayato realized he really needed to study and familiarize himself with proper medical supplies and tools. He recognized bandages and antiseptic, but some of the more specialized equipment was beyond his knowledge.
Nanase Ren, despite being a trained nurse, felt her courage wavering. Her legs were weak and trembling, her whole body shaking from cold fear and adrenaline. But she couldn't just sit there and watch Hayato struggle with medical work he didn't understand.
She bit down hard on her lip, took a deep breath that did little to steady her nerves, and stood up on shaking legs. Moving down the aisle on willpower alone, she came to Hayato's side.
She pointed at herself and then at the first aid kit, the gesture making her intention clear. Let me handle this. I know what to do.
Hayato immediately nodded in agreement and stepped back to become her assistant instead.
He lifted the anomaly's shirt at the abdomen without hesitation, exposing the full extent of that ten-centimeter wound. The torn flesh and seeping blood looked even worse up close, the injury clearly severe and untreated for however long this thing had been wandering.
Nanase Ren had seen plenty of serious wounds during her nursing career, had assisted in emergency rooms and trauma centers. But this was absolutely her first time treating an anomaly's injury, and that knowledge made her hands shake even harder.
She selected a needle and thread from the kit, the suture materials feeling familiar in her fingers despite the surreal circumstances. Her first few stitches were clumsy, her trembling hands making the movements imprecise.
But muscle memory and training gradually took over. She fell into the rhythm of suturing, each stitch becoming more confident than the last. With a ten-centimeter wound and no need to worry about infection protocols, sterilization procedures, or cosmetic scarring, she could work quickly without the usual medical concerns.
Three minutes was all it took to complete the suturing, her fingers working with practiced efficiency despite the bizarre patient.
And with the completion of the final stitch, something incredible happened. The wound began to close rapidly before their eyes, the torn flesh knitting itself back together as if time was reversing. Within seconds, the injury had disappeared completely, leaving only smooth skin behind.
"Doesn't hurt anymore..."
"Feels... better."
The anomaly's muttering finally stopped, those repeated phrases of pain falling silent. The change in atmosphere was immediate and noticeable.
The blue-haired delinquent and middle-aged man watched in stunned amazement, internally shocked by this girl's courage and skill. She'd actually dared to perform surgery on an anomaly, had touched that thing with her bare hands and stitched its wound closed like it was a normal patient.
Both of them immediately checked their own abdominal wounds, hoping for relief. But blood was still flowing from the injuries, though admittedly slower than before. The bleeding had decreased but not stopped completely.
Hayato noticed his own wound was still seeping blood as well, the wetness spreading on his shirt.
There had to be another rule they were missing, some additional condition that needed to be met.
He had Nanase Ren, who'd finished her medical work, return to her seat first. She moved back down the aisle on shaking legs, the adrenaline crash making her unsteady.
After Hayato sat back down beside her, he scanned the bus interior carefully, looking for anything out of place. His gaze swept across the seats, the passengers, the spacing and arrangement.
Then he spotted the problem.
Empty seats in some of the rows. Two anomalies sat together in one row with one empty spot. The middle-aged man's row had two empty spots now that the young guy was dead. Three total empty seats where there should be passengers.
He immediately signaled to the blue-haired delinquent and middle-aged man, pointing at the empty seats next to the two anomalies in their respective rows. His meaning was clear: sit next to them.
Both men shook their heads vigorously, the motion almost violent in its intensity.
No way. Absolutely not. They refused to sit next to those things.
Thud...
Thud...
Hayato didn't waste time arguing. He physically grabbed both men by their collars and dragged them to their new seats, depositing them forcefully next to the anomalies. When life and death was on the line, he chose the simple and brutal method of just making them comply.
As for having himself and Nanase Ren sit next to anomalies instead? That wasn't happening.
He wasn't a bad person and didn't mind helping when circumstances allowed, but that didn't mean he'd take on unnecessary risk for two cowards he had no relationship with. Both of these men had proven themselves selfish and unreliable already.
Even Nanase Ren had dared to perform surgery on an anomaly to contribute to their collective survival. Could those two men really do nothing to help?
Besides, Hayato had already tried moving the anomalies themselves first, but once they sat down they seemed to fuse with the bus structure and couldn't be moved at all. The only solution was making the humans relocate.
The middle-aged man and blue-haired guy trembled continuously in their new seats, constantly feeling like the anomalies beside them would suddenly transform into man-eating monsters. Every small movement or sound from the creatures next to them made them flinch.
Hayato pointed, and Nanase Ren checked her abdominal wound again. She lifted her shirt slightly and looked down, then nodded. Hayato leaned in close to observe, his proximity making Nanase Ren's breath catch and a blush spread across her cheeks when his finger lightly touched the skin to verify.
The bleeding had stopped. The wound was closing.
She quickly typed on her phone and showed him the message.
It's fine now. The bleeding stopped.
Nanase Ren wanted to point out that he could've just checked his own abdomen instead of using examining her as an excuse to get handsy, but she held her tongue. He'd saved her life multiple times already. If he wanted to take some small liberties, she could accept that as payment.
She'd already decided that much. The debt she owed him was too large to worry about minor things.