Chương 111: 44.Confinement 44-1

"Frost 01 proposes: since nobody here wants to get fully cooked, let's have a meeting." The moment I said it, the bunker went quiet in that particular synchronized way that meant everyone was recalibrating. Then, almost everyone including me looked straight at Dwight "D" Barkley first. Couldn't be helped. He was the one who'd hauled us out of that half-cooked situation at the door with a blast shield, built like a mobile fortification specifically designed to obstruct Federation injustice.

Any normal brain would immediately file: right, that one looks most like a team lead. D looked around at us, mouth twitching.

"Don't look at me." He leaned the reinforced shield against the wall and spread his hands.

"I'm not the team lead." My first thought: so your squad has something even less normal than you. I followed his gaze to the figure by the door—short, dead-fish eyes, Type-99 high-penetration magnetic sniper rifle in her arms, face broadcasting please don't waste my sleep time to the entire room. Akari Flak raised her eyes slightly.

"I am," she said. Two words. No emphasis, no buildup, no presence. Like saying it's hot today. I stared at her for two seconds and had to admit the Federation's system occasionally showed genuine taste. Hiding the team lead in the one who looked most bored with existence but could put people down in clean rows—that was exactly this Academy's brand of malicious humor. Jess was more direct, letting out a low "damn."

"So it's not the wall. It's the tranquilizer dart."

"Sniper rifle," Akari corrected, flat.

"Right. Miss Walking Tranquilizer Sniper Rifle."

"That works." She just accepted it. That particular brand of indifferent acceptance somehow made you want to strangle her more. The meeting venue was basic.

"Meeting" was generous—eight people around a folding metal table bolted to the main chamber floor, if something that looked ripped from a tank counted as furniture. The walls kept up their low vibration, firestorm slamming in waves outside. The whole bunker felt like an iron coffin shoved in an oven and told to pretend it was safe. I sat against the wall, lower left abdomen cycling between numb and painful.

Maki had just finished suturing—bleeding was controlled for now, but every breath that tugged the wound made me want to file Academic Affairs with a military tribunal. Maki sat beside me, monitoring my color while reorganizing the medical kit. Too efficient. Made me feel like recently repaired equipment. Infuriating. D's four were seated too. D I knew. Akari I'd now met properly. The other two: one male, tall and lean, with the short-range launcher and supply case, nose bridge marked red from goggles.

One female, short hair, still holding her low-lethality training rifle, nerves wound tight enough to treat the ceiling as hostile. They weren't trying to dominate the room. I appreciated that. The most annoying thing in meetings wasn't too many opinions—it was someone whose only job was passing water insisting on speaking like Chief of Strategy. Akari laid her rifle across her knees, dead-fish eyes sweeping the circle.

"Inventory first," she said.

"Who starts?" I raised my hand, immediately regretted it when the movement pulled my side.

"Team 144. Before anyone assumes we crawled in here empty-handed to claim beds." Jess cut in immediately: "Correction—we crawled in here injured and empty-handed to claim beds."

"Shut up."

"As ordered, wounded and still commanding Frost 01." I gave her a look and started the report.

"Team 144 current inventory: six and a half processed salt-water pouches—flavor profile like the Federation wrung out socks in seawater and bottled the result. Two raw water pouches. Nineteen purification tablets. One filter core, half-spent—Harvey's patched it once, still functional, but don't expect miracles." Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Harvey added: "Alarm wire material sufficient for two perimeter loops.

Strippable hardware: three metal panels, two short struts, line-cutter, entrenching tool. Armor repair materials under fifty percent."

"Medical," Maki continued in that measured tone, "basic disinfection and dressing adequate. Coagulant consumption high. One and a half suture kits remaining. Advanced analgesics insufficient. Hoshino is currently on restricted movement status." I immediately objected: "What the hell kind of status is that."

"A necessary one for you," she said, level. …Right. She'd just taken my abdomen apart. I lacked standing to argue. Akari nodded like she was logging inventory.

"Our side: eight processed water pouches, one raw. Twelve high-energy compressed rations. Two local anesthetic units, one suture kit, one and a half large saline bottles. Ammunition: nine Type-99 tranquilizer rounds remaining. Standard training penetrators limited—not recommended for classmates. Short-range launcher has three low-impact rounds." When she finished, D added: "I can carry shields, brace doors, move people. Also press uncooperative things back into the ground."

"Very earnest self-introduction," Jess murmured.

"Practical is enough," D replied. The short-haired girl added quietly: "Low-lethality rifle has two magazines left. Mainly suppression and dispersal." The tall boy raised his hand.

"Portable thermal sensor, but with everything outside running hot, it won't be useful until the Gale drops." I nodded. Good. These people talked without circling. If I'd been stuck with anyone who loved discussing philosophy right now, I'd have flipped the table from pain and collapsed back down. With inventory done, the next topic was obvious—the one everyone knew was coming and nobody wanted to raise first out of politeness. I raised it.

"Now for the practical part. You pulled Team 144 out back there—we acknowledge that, we're not playing dumb. Question is: what do you want in exchange?" D raised an eyebrow.

"You're direct."

"I don't have the energy for anything else right now." Akari's dead-fish eyes rested on my face for two seconds, like she was determining whether I was blood-loss delirious or naturally this abrasive. Then:"Two things. Intelligence. And temporary cooperation." Jess let out a soft "oh."

"What a coincidence. We also want to stay alive." Akari ignored her and continued.

"You're team lead. Viable shelters only light on your HUD. Today proved that's valuable—and worth targeting. Team 144 has route advantage but lacks mid-to-long range suppression. We have range and frontal protection, but no HUD door access." She said it like reading a solved equation.

"Neither side is sufficient alone. At least currently." I couldn't argue. The ravine lesson had been comprehensive. My left side was still billing the Federation for it. D crossed his arms and translated: "Simple version—you know which doors might open. We're better at keeping you from getting pinned before you reach them."

"And you need people who can shoot far," the short-haired girl added quietly, then immediately seemed to regret speaking. Good instincts. I settled back against the wall, pushed through one pulse of pain, and asked directly:"Temporary cooperation. What scope?" Akari didn't hesitate.

"Until this bunker opens, then joint operation for one Purgation Gale cycle. After that, reassess. If it works, continue. If not, split." I couldn't help raising an eyebrow. She looked like breathing was an inconvenience, but her terms were clean. No performative loyalty, no cheap sentiment. That actually made her easier to negotiate with. Maki stepped in then.

"Cooperation is acceptable, but Team 144 has conditions." I glanced at her. She had her clipboard open, apparently ready to draft formal articles for the whole arrangement. Very Maki.

"First," she said, "Hoshino's HUD content is not shared. She can verbally relay direction, viability, whether a door is active—but no direct display, no transfer of read access." D nodded. No objection. Akari made a sound of agreement. I wanted to thank them for respecting my privacy, then reconsidered—they probably weren't being respectful, just practical enough to know pushing too hard would kill the cooperation. Maki continued.

"Second, resources remain individually managed but we establish a shared emergency pool. Contents limited to water, coagulant, analgesics, and batteries. Usage requires logging." Jess muttered: "God, even dying comes with paperwork."

"Or you can choose not to log," Maki said without looking up.

"When something goes missing, you can file your complaint with your fist." Even D laughed at that. I found it entirely reasonable. Half the rules here were deliberately unwritten; the other half lived in people's fists and record books.

"Third," Maki said, "tactical authority is divided. Close engagement and route decisions led by Hoshino. Mid-to-long range deployment and engagement timing led by Akari. In emergencies, D assumes direct command of close-quarters defense." Akari looked at Maki properly for the first time. Not admiration—more like: so your team actually has someone who turns things into regulations.

"Acceptable," she said. I didn't object. The arrangement made sense. If I tried to grab everything right now, I'd just bleed more.

"Fourth," I added, "either side can propose splitting when they think cooperation has run its course. Condition—no proposals during Purgation Gale countdown, while casualties are unstable, or during shelter lockdown." D raised an eyebrow.

"Harsh."

"That's not harsh. That's not allowing anyone to spring a morality test when the door's about to close," I said. Akari nodded.

"Accepted."

"Fifth," Jess added lazily, wearing her signature punchable smile, "if anyone uses high-ground suppression on us again, we reserve primary insult rights."

"What tactical value does that have?" Harvey asked, cold.

"Psychological decompression."

"Not relevant," I said.

"I think it's relevant," D said.

"You shut up," Jess and I said almost simultaneously. The bunker actually laughed—briefly, quietly, like everyone was surprised they still could. Akari finalized it. She set her rifle aside, hands folded over her knees, still looking half-asleep but speaking with unexpected crispness.

"Then it's settled. Team 144 and us, temporary joint operation effective now. Through the end of this Purgation Gale cycle, then we reassess." She paused and looked at me.

"Agreed, Hoshino Shimo?" I looked back and found the question slightly redundant. All eight of us had been stuffed in here by the Gale and that door. What would disagreeing accomplish? Throw someone out and survive on institutional purity? I pulled one corner of my mouth.

"Agreed. The Federation worked so hard to pack us into the same can—shame not to make the most of their educational investment."