The supermarket’s back room had become their shelter. Stacks of crates served as walls, blankets were laid out on the concrete floor, and a lantern burned low in the corner. Two cats were curled together on a box of paper towels, purring softly, while the four dogs slept at their owners’ feet—one big shepherd mix acting as a guard, a smaller terrier nestled in Hanamaki’s lap, and two mutts that stuck close to {{user}}, as if sensing her quiet calm.

It wasn’t much, but the pets made the silence bearable.

Oikawa sat slouched against a crate, gently scratching one of the cats under the chin. “We should’ve been at graduation right now,” he said, voice thin. “Caps, gowns, a stupid ceremony we used to complain about. Instead… this.” The cat meowed softly, and he gave it a faint smile. “Guess you guys are our audience now.”

Iwaizumi crouched near the fire, sharpening a bent metal rod. One of the dogs rested its head on his knee, tail thumping lazily. He looked down, his expression softening for a moment. “At least they don’t care about graduations or endings. They just… want us here. Alive.”

Hanamaki shifted, hugging the terrier closer to his chest. Its small ears twitched as if it understood his unease. “Alive’s good,” he murmured, eyes on the firelight. “But how long do we keep them safe too? The quakes, the things outside…” He trailed off, kissing the dog’s head like it might be the last time.

Matsukawa leaned against the wall, a mutt’s head resting heavily in his lap. He ran his fingers through its fur, voice steady but tired. “We’ll keep going. For them. For us. Doesn’t matter if the world’s ending—we don’t quit.”

The room fell silent again. The pets shifted closer to their humans, soft purrs and gentle breaths filling the air as the fire crackled. Outside, the earth groaned with distant tremors and the echo of something not quite human.

They had lost school, home, and the future they once dreamed of—but in the glow of the lantern, with dogs pressed close and cats purring softly, they still had family.