Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice.

Kaizen was- he didn't feel strong enough. There was just so much that he didn't know, couldn't understand no matter how hard he tried. Frustration had him gritting his teeth as he stalked out across the fog, the haze a thick red as the autumn dried grass brushed against his ankles. He wanted to do something, needed to fix the situation, but how? Everything was changing and he hated it, barely felt like he could cope, his sense of normality and routine had been ripped out from under him and Kaizen was struggling. Hurting.

Ahead through the thick fog he saw a shape ahead. He was far from the normality of Tojo; but even the thick walls of bamboo couldn't keep the red out. Nothing was right, even home felt wrong. Coming to a standstill, his ears flattened against his skull- he had heard talk of sick strangers, infected who attacked others unprovoked. No rhyme or reason, just rage.

Kaizen was not a violent boy, but he felt his hackles raise, the silver of his eyes narrowing as he struggled to even make out what sort of beast lay ahead. Its scent was vaguely feline, but not like the cats his siblings had chosen for companions-something much larger, dangerous. It was approaching, its steps thudding, the weight of it clearly greater than his own.