Chapter 22: Laughter Amid Ruins

Jane and Porpo burst out of the infirmary tent in a flurry of feet, canvas flapping wildly behind them. Jane’s grip on Porpo’s elbow was so frantic that the smaller girl practically floated beside her, hair whipping behind her like a torn battle flag.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry! I swear, I SWEAR… I didn’t know that was going to happen!” Jane babbled, half-running, half-dragging her.

Porpo, however, was wheezing with laughter, deep, uncontrollable, feral laughter that echoed between tents. “There was ’a lot’ to see!” she gasped between snorts. “You actually said that shit! I can’t. I CAN’T!” She bent over, gripping her stomach as her laughter evolved into a dying-hyena wheeze.

Jane stopped dead in her tracks, face blazing red. “Porpo!” She stomped one foot like a flustered schoolgirl. “It wasn’t that bad! I just-” She covered her face with her hands. “I panicked, okay?!”

Porpo wiped a tear from her eye before laying a dramatically soft hand on Jane’s shoulder. “Hey… don’t beat yourself up.” Her grin turned wicked. “Finding a partner is good for mental health and depression.”

“HEY! It’s NOT like that!” Jane snapped, voice cracking a little too loudly, instantly betraying her denial. Her cheeks flared even brighter.

Porpo raised a judgmental eyebrow. “Sure. Yup. I totally believe you.”

Jane stood there pouting, lower lip jutting stubbornly.

But the world didn’t pause for her embarrassment.

All around them, the camp churned with grim, exhausted motion.

Cries, groans, and the distant screams of someone being dragged into a tent blended with the clatter of tools and metal. Smoke from recent monster exterminations drifted above the tarps. The air smelled like blood-soaked dirt, boiling porridge, antiseptic, and something burning far too close to home.

Makeshift walls of broken cars and scavenged sheet metal created narrow alleys where survivors shuffled past in a haze of fatigue. Children clung to their parents’ legs. Wounded men lay in stretchers carried by hunters sprinting toward medical tents. A plume of dust rose as another building collapsed somewhere on the outskirts of the city, its echo rolling over the camp like a dull thunderclap.

This world, what remained of it was nothing like the one they knew.

Jane drew in a slow breath as the cold wind slipped through the camp, brushing her sweat-damp skin. The breeze carried ashes, faint embers, and the distant, throaty roars of monsters still lurking outside the perimeter.

“So…” a voice cut in. “What’s not like that?”

Jane turned her head so fast she nearly cracked something.

Lynis approached, hands in his hoodie pockets, a lit cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. The smoke curled around his messy ponytail, drifting lazily in the sunlight.

“N-nothing,” Jane blurted out, standing rigid as if he’d caught her committing a crime.

“Okay lah,” he said, raising both hands as if surrendering. He puffed out a cloud of smoke like a tired dragon.

Porpo’s reaction was instant.

Her face twisted like she’d smelled something rancid. She marched over, grabbed the cigarette, and crushed it between her fingers before hurling it aside.

“Are you stupid or are you stupid?” she snapped, shaking him. “How many times I tell you not to smoke?! It slows you down! You wanna get eaten? MELTED? POISONED? KILLED?”

“Wah lau eh… chill lah!” Lynis protested, waving her off as he backed up. “It’s just stress relief! And I didn’t expect you to be such a MOM about it!”

Porpo groaned loudly, spun on her heel, and stomped straight back to Jane, grabbing her arm like she needed grounding. “He’s SO ANNOYING. UGH!”

“Porpo, don’t be mad!” Lynis hustled after them like a scolded puppy. “I’m sorry lah! I promise I’ll stop! No more smoking! Scout’s honor!”

The supply tent loomed ahead of them like a patchwork beast, stitched canvas pulled taut over mismatched metal poles, its flaps tied down with fraying rope. The moment they stepped inside, a wave of scents washed over them: detergent sharp enough to sting the nose, leather worn thin by too many hands, dust kicked up by constant foot traffic, and underneath it all… the faint metallic tang of dried monster blood.

Inside, the atmosphere buzzed with organized chaos. Volunteers shuffled between crates stacked to the ceiling, boxes overflowing with scavenged clothing, bedrolls, makeshift armor plates hammered from car scraps, bandages dyed pink from poor washing, canned food, and piles of monster parts wrapped in tar-stiffened cloth. Every sound blended: the scrape of metal on wood, the dull thuds of crates being dragged, the murmured negotiations over who got what, and the distant, rhythmic clanging of fortification work outside.

Porpo marched forward, chin up, acting as if she wasn’t still red from earlier. Jane followed close behind, still dragging her by the elbow, while Lynis trudged after them like an accused criminal awaiting judgment.

“Porpo? Come on lah,” he whined, stepping over a pile of mismatched boots. “If you’re still angry, then I’m gonna be damn sad, okay?”

Porpo didn’t even glance back. “Good.”

As they neared the sorting table, Lin Young glanced up from behind a mountain of folded shirts. Her smile was warm, until her eyes landed on Lynis.

“Oh hey, girls. And… Lynis.”

The pause before his name was so sharp it could cut steel.

Lynis frowned dramatically. “Wah lao, why everyone against me today? I just smoke one cigarette only!”

“Maybe because you’re a menace,” Jane muttered.

Porpo ignored both of them and waved brightly. “Lin! Need clothes for the newcomer. Medium or higher. Preferably without bloodstains or monster guts stuck on them.”

Lin straightened, brushing dust from her tank top. “Got it.” She whirled around and raised her voice. “Male clothing, medium or bigger! Shoes, size ten! Socks too, the less hole-y, the better!”

Three volunteers jumped into motion like startled cats.

Behind her, Lynis attempted once again to reclaim his place in Porpo’s good graces.

“Porpo,” he whined. “Say something, can?”

“No.”

“One cigarette only a day.”

“No.”

“You forgive everyone so easily except me!”

Porpo folded her arms. “Correct.”

Lin gave Lynis a look so flat it could iron clothes. “Stop harassing the girl. You’re giving everyone a headache.”

“What the hell bit your ass today?” Lynis shot back.

A resounding SMACK echoed through the tent as Jane slapped the back of his head.

“Don’t talk to Lin like that.” Jane scolded. “And Porpo, just forgive him already. With everything going on, one cigarette is not the end of the world.”

Porpo let out a long groan. “FINE. I’m not mad, okay?! Happy?!”

Lynis lit up instantly, almost glowing. “Oh THANK GOD!” he declared as he wrapped his arms around her neck and pressed his cheek against hers. “You my best friend lah.”

“GET! OFF!” Porpo squawked, flailing like a drowning cat.

He stumbled back, hands raised. “Okay! Okay!”

At that moment, an old man shuffled in from behind a column of crates, Mister Yip. Stooped, wearing an old green jacket, white hair tied in a ponytail, his back cracked loudly as he set a folded stack of clothes on the table.

“Here you go,” he said with a gentle smile.

“Thank you, Mister Yip,” Porpo said, bowing instinctively.

He patted her head affectionately, his wrinkled hand surprisingly warm. “No problem, little one. Just… don’t forget our deal, ah?”

Porpo’s face paled. “Shit-”

She dove into her pockets and exhaled in relief as her fingers closed around the two hidden packs. She presented them like a sacred offering.

“Mister Yip! Here!”

The old man turned, his eyes gleaming as if she’d handed him gold. He shuffled back quickly, plucked the packs from her hands, and patted her head again. “This is why you are my favorite.”

He reached into his own pocket and pulled out a wrapped candy.

Porpo’s breath caught. “Is that… a lemon candy?!”

“It is,” he said proudly.

She snatched it with a grateful blush. “Thank you, Mister Yip.”

“Stay safe,” he murmured, ruffling her hair before hobbling away, disappearing behind towering crates.

Jane, Lin, and Lynis all smiled.

Porpo noticed and immediately reddened. “Shut up.” She punched Lynis in the arm.

“OW! What I do this time?!”

Jane shook her head with an amused sigh, warmth softening her tired features.

Lin picked up the stack of clothes, pants, shirt, socks, undergarments, and a sturdy pair of shoes. “So… is the kid awake?”

Porpo inhaled sharply, but Jane clamped a hand over her mouth.

“He’s fine,” Jane answered quickly. “Just… a little traumatized.”

Lin chuckled. “Right. Sure. Sounds like a normal day around here.”

Porpo peeled Jane’s hand away. “Also embarrassed because he was…”

“OKAY!” Jane snatched Porpo by the elbow again, dragging her away. “We’re leaving now!”

Jane shot Lynis a withering glare. “Grab the clothes.”

“What? Why me? You go lah!”

“JUST! DO! IT!”

Lynis groaned like a dying mule, scooped up the clothes, and trudged after them.

The three exited the tent into the open chaos of the camp: tents flapping in the wind, survivors shouting, children crying, metal screeching as barricades were repaired. A low boom echoed from somewhere behind the walls, another monster trying its luck.

Jane and Porpo argued as they walked.

Lynis followed, helpless but smiling.

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