The three of them ultimately decided on a course of action—to remain inside the apartment for now and wait to see if the other groups would make the first move.
With the situation outside still unclear, taking the initiative at this point wasn't a wise idea. Thus, Kaguya, with her sharp hearing, stayed in the hallway near the front door, keeping an ear out for any movement outside. Maki conducted a more thorough search of the apartment, looking for any overlooked clues. Takakai assisted her, helping to examine the various items scattered throughout Unit 208.
"From the clothing, it seems like a young man living alone."
Maki frowned as she wiped her hands several times after pulling out some plain men's clothes from the wardrobe.
"And the kind of loner who lets his life fall apart."
Takakai stared at the mold-stained underwear and socks tossed carelessly by the bed. In the end, he couldn't bring himself to touch them and instead nudged them aside with his foot.
"Too bad there's no diary or notes. Looks like whoever stayed here last didn't leave anything useful behind."
After searching for a while with no results, Maki sighed in disappointment, patting her modest chest.
"Most people don't keep diaries, you know. At least where I'm from, only elementary school kids write them because teachers make them. By middle or high school, hardly anyone bothers."
Takakai walked over to the kitchen and opened the door, casually responding.
"That just proves you don't understand human diversity. Plenty of people keep diaries, especially sensitive, introspective types. And you—are you really a novelist? Shouldn't your kind be scribbling things down all the time?"
Unwilling to touch the dirty clothes again, Maki kicked the pile toward the wall, where it merged with the underwear and socks.
"That's why I always say I'm just an online writer. My job is to churn out shallow, relaxing fluff. I don't have the same quirks as serious literary types."
Takakai tested the stove and faucet in the kitchen.
"The gas and water are still on. And the water seems clean. How is this place still functioning when it's practically falling apart?"
Maki followed him into the kitchen, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the blue flame on the stove.
"At least we'll have hot water, then."
She eyed the stainless steel frying pan on the counter—dusty but rust-free. With a proper wash, they could use it to boil water or cook instant noodles.
She had braced herself for days of rough survival, but with utilities still running, things were looking up.
"It's a small comfort, but all we've got is instant noodles and ration bars. Better than nothing, I guess."
Takakai was firmly in the "just-add-hot-water" camp when it came to instant noodles. To him, actually cooking them was overkill. The only time he bothered was when he was bored enough to jazz them up with extras—like the eggs and ham he'd been out buying when he'd somehow ended up in this mess.
"Maintaining quality of life is always important. It does wonders for morale. Even with limited ingredients, since we've got utilities, I'll handle dinner tonight. Don't assume I'm some helpless sheltered rich girl."
Maki shook her head, disagreeing with Takakai's dismissal. She patted her modest chest with a hint of pride.
"Oh? I've visited Shuchi'in, but I don't know much about its students—or you, for that matter. But I've heard the Shinomiya and Shijou families are impressive. Here, let me check the fridge. One that's been closed for over two years? Probably a horror show inside. Not something a young lady should see."
Takakai lied smoothly despite having watched Kaguya-sama: Love is War, stepping past Maki toward the fridge at the back of the kitchen.
"Hah! What, you think I'm only capable because of my family? How narrow-minded. I'm a true polymath—there's no situation I can't handle. Mathematics, martial arts, kendo, home economics, fine arts, foreign languages—my life experience dwarfs yours, shut-in. Move aside. A fridge won't scare me, even if it's full of rotten food. You're underestimating me. Stay back—I'll investigate. Consider this a lesson in how the Shijou family operates!"
Maki's words came rapid-fire as she blocked Takakai with a small hand, shooting him a disdainful look before marching toward the fridge.
To an outsider, her tone might have come across as genuinely contemptuous. But in reality, she was worried the fridge might hide something dangerous in this eerie place and wanted to shield Takakai from risk.
Her bravado faltered as she reached for the handle—her legs trembling faintly, her fingers hesitating.
What if something jumps out at me?
Maki wasn't particularly brave. She was already wavering but refused to show weakness in front of others.
Ah, so this is tsundere in real life.
Takakai observed her micro-expressions, marveling at the differences between 2D and 3D tsunderes. In manga, the archetype was instantly recognizable, but in person? Without careful attention, her act could easily be mistaken for genuine disdain.
If I asked her about romance, could I get her to say "I'm a love master"? Man, I'd love to hear that line in real life. The comedic potential is unreal.
Despite his internal monologue, Takakai quickly moved to stand beside her.
"The fridge's still running. Be careful—no telling what's inside."
He gripped the fridge door as he spoke.
"Hah! Unless something leaps out to attack me, there's nothing to fear. I've seen far worse than you can imagine."
Maki scowled, feeling patronized, and yanked the small fridge door open—
—to come face-to-face with the frozen visage of a man.
"..."
For a moment, Takakai felt Maki's entire body lock up beside him.
As the door swung fully open, the contorted, frostbitten face of a man curled inside the fridge stared back at them—his expression forever locked in terror.
Takakai peered inside but found no convenient "note beside the corpse" or "last words carved into the fridge" like in puzzle games. Reality, unfortunately, wasn't so accommodating.
"Only wearing a thin tank top and shorts. Maybe he was sleeping when something happened and panicked, hiding in here?"
The icy air wafting from the fridge did little to help deduce the man's final moments.
"Hah... T-this is... n-nothing... Huff... Wait, you—how are you so calm analyzing a corpse? Are you really a novelist?"
Maki, still recovering from the shock, forced out bravado before narrowing her eyes at Takakai.
"Well, researching for stories desensitized me. I've seen some messed-up stuff—like The Most Disturbed Person on Planet Earth—"
Before he could finish, footsteps sounded behind them.
Kaguya stood silently in the kitchen doorway, having approached without notice until the last moment.
She said nothing, her gaze flicking from Takakai and Maki to the half-open fridge and its frozen occupant. Then she raised a finger to her lips and held up her phone:
[Something's outside. Stay quiet. Follow me.]
Her eyes lingered briefly on the unshed tears at the corners of Maki's eyes before she turned away.
The wall clock was now in Kaguya's hand as the three moved soundlessly into the hallway.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Before they even reached the door, the rhythmic rapping was joined by a voice:
[Takakai... hey, Takakai, you're in there, right?]
[Why aren't you answering? It's me—Sun Dajun!]
[Everyone's out here. We're figuring out what to do. Why'd you hide in there? And those two girls with you—what's going on? Hey, c'mon, say something!]
The voice belonged to the portly executive from earlier—perfectly normal, tinged with confusion.
In the background, the Black man and blonde woman could be heard murmuring.
Three voices.
Three sets of knocks.
All outside the door.
Knock. Knock. Knock.