The Groundhogs

[Nai]

The Agata Brothers
 


"We love you, mom!"
 

 

[Deviced]

"The whole world is shaking. Everything is falling apart." 

His body was fooled with, treated like a simple object, like cargo. He was not a flower, nor had he ever been. 
 
"They know you. They know your name. They've caught you." 
... 
 
It frequents Carter's mind, the hollowness he was feeling in the pit of his stomach. Normally he was more alert, more in-tune with his surroundings; however, all he could do was stare at his wrists being wrapped up, his eyes dark with no feelings in particular-- only fear. He registered words, and they made loops in his mind. "... departure to Sado Island.’ 
 
“Don’t be so scared,” 
 
“Ryuzaki has been secured, returning to camp,” 
 
Carter convinces himself that he should stay silent and cooperate, as if being submissive wasn't already in his nature. But there was a vice grip in his chest, a force trying to remind him that this isn't something he can go through with. He loosened the feeling with a deep breath. 
 
“We’ll be there by morning,” Said a boy with molten eyes that reminded Carter of a yellow butterfly bush, his wicked gaze causing the teen to recall his attention back to his palms, sinking against the car seat. But before Carter could shake his head or shrug his shoulders in disinterest, he was suddenly ducking below the car window in panic when the sound of an explosion reverberated throughout his bones, creating stillness in his thoughts. 
 
All of a sudden they were moving, the sight of trees passing by the windows proof of their mobility. Carter lay down on the seat, head rested against the door handle with eyes that had grown to the size of dinner plates. He was thinking about those golden eyes again, the way they seared into his memory. ‘Like a yellow butterfly bush... like chrysanthemums..."
 
Chrys. He was leaving Chrys and Taro. "Hey..." Carter suddenly said in a shaky tone, rising back up from his horizontal position on the seat. "W-what about Esso? And Miyashita? Surely you can't just leave them," he said with a little more volume, pulling his mask to his chin as he leaned forward over the center console. “They’re the only one’s I have left.” He thought, minding not to say the words out loud. Carter shifted, his hands shaking in their roped prison. 
 
What were they even going to do with him? Why was he being held hostage in the first place? Why were any of them worth imprisoning? Nothing was making any sense at all. 
 
“Seriously… I can’t let them go.” Carter’s voice cracked, his fingers curling into his palms for reassurance. There were too many components now, too many pieces to this goddamn puzzle that were missing. He’d never thought he’d say such a thing, but Carter missed their old life. It was simple: run, or be eaten. The group had strength in its members, each one carrying a fraction of the pain and responsibilities. But now… everything was confusing, muddling together to create an ugly mess in his mind. He trembled, his heart aching for his friends. What if they were being slaughtered by that maniac back in his old neighbor’s house? What if they were gonna be blown up by those explosions from earlier? Everything was turning to dust, their messily constructed relationships twisted by these fucking people. 
 
Carter stared ahead through the windshield, watching the gray morning brightening up ever so slightly with the hopes of a rising sun. He was thinking about the moments before, about the people he had met that were suddenly acting as if he were property to be bought. And what about that boy with the glasses that was with Chrys and Taro right now? Wasn’t he part of their group? Were they truly leaving a teammate? Carter couldn’t comprehend it. 
 
Thoughts of Dazai flooded his brain then, but not the Dazai he let slip through his fingertips last night. He thought of the Dazai that had no problem with rolling up his sleeves to plant daffodils in the back garden, the Dazai that would get a deep concentration-induced crease in his forehead when Carter would explain the intricate climates he kept his orchids in, the Dazai that would stop everything to join Carter in observing a tiny inchworm that was inhabiting his lemon tree. He loved that person so much-- he still loves that person-- but those memories were being threatened. “You can’t forget him. You can’t forget any of them.” 
 
Carter choked out a sigh, pressing the heels of his hands to his forehead. His eyes squished shut, trying to picture every detail of their faces-- the sun weathered crinkles that appeared around Anthony’s eyes when he smiled, the faintest dimple that appears on Chrys’s cheek when in laughter, the slight flickering of Taro’s eyes when he analyzes a sentence… but possibly his favorite, the gentle gesture he’d grown to adore, was the way Dazai would cast his gaze downward, drawing his eyelids half closed while his eyelashes caught the filtered sunlight from the window. Carter could picture it clearly, like he was in the moment right then, holding on to it with everything he had. “I’m not gonna forget. I’m not gonna forget…” 
 
The car sputtered and jerked forward suddenly, causing the teen to brace himself against the front seats with his elbows. His patience was running thin, but he felt loneliness more than anything else in these moments. He wanted to be home again, to be surrounded by his second family-- the only people who had ever distracted him of his mangled thoughts. 


A sharp pain shot through Carter’s thigh suddenly, earning a muffled grunt from his throat as he felt around the area, his fingers searching the opening of his pocket. Razor blades. “Oh yeah… from my box.” He thought, tucking them further down so they couldn’t slip out. He was capable of cutting himself loose if he so desired, but that would leave room for only more dead ends. Instead, he pretended as if nothing happened and stared into the rear-view mirror, his eyes reflecting nothing but the slight glimmer of fear. 

 

[plumeriaprincess]

Can admiration, fear of isolation, insecurity and loss of hope and sense of meaning cause one to commit actions one wouldn't normally commit against others? Is this what drove Mitsu to work together with Katsuhira? Is this what drove her to separate a helpless and so clearly distraught being from the only ones he had left in this barren world?
 
However, she was helping him. She was doing a good thing... right?
 
The explosion chilled Mitsu down to the core, and it took several seconds before Mitsu reacted and moved until she was situated in the car. She kept her eyes glued out the window at the passing scenery, her mind zoning out through the silence and back to Hisoka. The way he had previously studied that corpse earlier, the way he carried himself. She bit down on her cheek thinking about what he would do when he found out they had left with virtually everything. 
 
Mitsu hoped he would never find them, but after traveling with him for some time she knew he was capable of way more than he let on. Pressing her thumb against her lips repeatedly was keeping her from passing out; the cycle of motion kept her breathing in time as she knew very well she could not express her fear for Hisoka. 
 
Fear is equal to weakness, and in this world, weakness gets you slaughtered. Weakness is not to be tolerated, which means that Mitsu could easily get left on the side of the road like rubbish one would toss out the window. The voice from the backseat borrowed Mitsu's attention as she attempted to keep her stare set on the window. Mitsu fought against all thoughts in her mind as she turned to make eye contact with Carter who was now leaning across the center console for a word, look, anything from them that would let him know the truth. 
 
Mitsu felt her teeth put pressure down on her bottom lip to keep any absent-minded mutterings leave her mouth. She attempted to offer a look of pity as his voice cracked, however Carter was already too far gone in his thoughts. Mitsu felt her eyes travel up from where Carter was sitting to Katsuhira, collected and determined. She beat herself up mentally for not being able to compute as he does, for being too soft. There's no time in this world to be weak. 


"There's no time."

 

[Nai]

“I’m fine,” I say after a particular fight that leaves my brother, disoriented, and me disheveled. They’ve sent us away to each of our rooms injected by the molly daddy keeps in his pocket. He locks the doors to my brother’s room but stops at mine. Mother’s screams are like static, and brother’s have gone silent. We’re prisoners in our own home, our rooms, cages, only without the straps and chains. Father has made a habit of putting his hands on me, and he’s the only the reason I’ve discovered the creak of my bed is really loose. 
 
The kids at school like to talk about demons, but I say, I’ve met the devil, and he’s well-acquainted with the crevices of my body. He haunts my room every other night, beer bottle in hand and drunken hazy lidded between each eyelid. He’s a broken slur of apologizes and aggression, and my body has grown weak beneath the struggling cries and wrestling wastes. 
 
It’s on the night of my birth that I find out I’m a mistake, the bathroom floor is filthy with the piss that isn’t my own, and father says not to run away again. Beaten and battered, I lay with pitiful, naked, remorse. I recall the words of my brother like a mantra, in the days he wasn’t sick or didn’t wake up as if he didn’t know me, “We can either follow our parent’s decision, or choose not to follow them at all. If we choose not to follow their choices, we have to give them something to justify not following their decisions.” But you see, father wasn’t a good man, nor did he listen to reason or care about our lives. Father never had an expectations, and if he did they weren’t for our sake. 
 
—Kill a man, and you’re a murderer.
 
Father disappeared on Shiba’s birthday, leaving my mother without money for us and without a home to keep. He was my family’s plague, far before this one took over. 
 
—Kill millions, and you’re a conqueror.
 
“—Who?” Katsuhira hoots from the front seat, brow raised and eyeing Carter from the side-view mirror, “Ah,” he drawls after a moment’s silence, “Your friends, they weren’t apart of the rescue mission.” He finishes, and watches as Carter’s face distort with the reply, “Seriously… I can’t let them go.” 
 
“Don’t worry about them, knowing Hisoka, the boy probably has plans for them to follow us to the camp,” He comforts in a soothing lie, but makes note not to look at Carter. 
 
The conversation ends there, and it isn’t until two hours into the drive, Katsuhira directs Mitsu to pull over. They’re not two blocks away from their destination, when Katsuhira says, “I need to stop by one of the stores,” He says all too nonchalant, and as if they weren’t at all in an apocalypse. He drops out of the car, and opens the back door, “Out,” he commands over at Carter, and shrugs his head over at Mitsu, “We can walk the rest of way over, I just want to see if I can pick up any of the stuff I lost.” He hums naturally, and makes note of unpacking the bags out of the car, and finally unstrapping his steak knife from his side. 
 
He’s already down the trail when he pauses momentarily before turning towards Carter abruptly, “Tell me, ugly duckling,” He cooes, “If I untie your wrists and give you a weapon, will you, or will you not try to kill us?” 


—Kill them all, and you’re a God.

 

[Deviced]

"Don't step on the flowers." 
 
... 
 
Carter had fallen asleep at some point after the unsatisfactory answer he had received from Katsuhira, and may or may not have shed a few extra tears when no one was looking. It wasn't as if he could control it at this point-- crying just happened now, whether he wanted it to or not. Nevertheless, the teen was grateful for the 'dreamless' nap that had ensued during the long drive, and awoke to the light squeak of the car's breaks pulling to the side of the road. 
 
The sun had risen now, but the dewy grass of early morning still lingered around Katsuhira's ankles as he yanked the back door open, Carter's horizontal position exposed to the white haired teen. "Out," Carter complied instantly, but he wasn't sure why-- he really disliked this character and his erratic behavior. 
 
“We can walk the rest of way over, I just want to see if I can pick up any of the stuff I lost.” The teen said over to the girl Carter knew as Mitsu, who honestly seemed too good to be caught up in any of this. Mitsu appeared to be easily manipulated, but she was obviously a trusted member of the little 'dream team' from what Carter could tell. He shot her a sympathetic look for whatever reason, since it seemed she was almost being dragged along just like Carter. 
 
A moment later, the dark-haired boy was captured by Katsuhira's sickly sweet voice forming a sentence that was carried over by a light breeze, soft strands of hair brushing the tips of his eyelashes. 
 
“Tell me, ugly duckling, If I untie your wrists and give you a weapon, will you, or will you not try to kill us?” Carter thought for a moment, doe eyes glued to Katsuhira's slim figure that was positioned further down the path. 
 
"Kill you...?" he repeated breathlessly, squinting his eyes against the intrusive rays of autumn sunlight. Killing now was done as a means of survival, for people who wanted to live on-- Carter had no reason to kill, nor had he ever. The teen meekly shuffled up the path, arms outstretched to Katsuhira in an effort to get the message across without having to say too many words. "Please," Carter managed, his gaze falling to the wildflowers that tickled his ankles where he stood, shifting his weight to each leg. It wasn't as if he could say, 'hey listen, I wanna be free and all, but could ya' cut me loose without touching and/or looking too hard at my wrists? Thanks!'; that would be highly unreasonable. 
 
Carter settled with making zero eye contact as he wiggled his fingers uncomfortably, hoping the exchange wouldn't last too much longer. As his thoughts drifted further from worrying about the scars and his roped hands, Carter thought about the person in front of him. What was his story? Where did he come from? How old was he? What was his name? It occurred to him that he knew nothing of his captor-- but what Carter was disgruntled with the most was why he was even interested in knowing these things in the first place. Katsuhira was obviously informed about Ryuzaki from some third party, and it was frightening. It made him wonder what else he knew. 


"What should I call you?" Carter spoke without realizing it, eyes still glued on the white petals that ruffled with the breeze-- a breeze that brought goosebumps to his pale skin. Oh how he missed these times a year ago, being curled up under the kotatsu with hot tea, Dazai napping next to him. Everything was so comfortable and every moment precious, the atmosphere always filled with unspoken 'I love you's. Carter wondered if Dazai was ever able to taste the air around them at those times, if he ever knew how much Carter wanted to kiss him. The teen smiled to himself, recalling the fondness in his chest. He supposed none of those things really mattered anymore.

 

[Nai]

This wasn’t part of the plan, none of this was, their whole trip to the camp was a hoax and Katsuhira knew it. He knew it, as he sat throughout the two hour ride, tapping impatiently at his knees and staring out the window in contemplative remorse. He knew it as he stepped out of the car and stared at Akiyama in the face, he eyes unwavering from his goal. 
 
What was his goal? He questioned halfway down his path, hands twirling the blade in his grip like a toy, and staring at the overgrown grass sticking out of the cracked pavement floor. To kill the only possible cure this world had? There'll be others, there’ll always be others. But for now, who’s to say testing out a theory wouldn’t surmise to the ideology everyone had? 
 
Yet, although he knew of his actions, he had no reason to feel such remorse for his actions. So why? He had no life previous to this, and here, now, he likes feeling as if he’s had a purpose. This child, right here before him, arms out, staring dutifully at the ground as if subdued by his mere presence stands at a fault, all because he, himself, decided to live in this selfish world. 
 
In a world that wouldn’t judge.
 
But who was he to decided whether or not, this child should live or not? He’s staring passively at the boy’s wrists, they’re scarred and battered by age. He’s been a victim of abuse, no, something far worse, a victim of his own self. Katsuhira let’s out a breathy sigh, his free hand running through his dirty locks and cracking a smile he’s only learn to feign, “You know, when you put it like that, you make me swoon for you duckling.” He cooes, stripping the rope from the boy’s wrists and eyeing the thin red marks it’s left behind. 
 
He takes a moment to eye their surroundings, it’s quiet, there’s no sounds of squawking birds in the distance or chirping insects. Instead, there’s a deafening eerie silence overcoming the streets and it unsettles Katsuhira. The open area was beginning to feel sketchy. 
 
“... What should I call you?” He hears, pulling him out of his wary state. “Call … Me…?” He repeats slowly, almost as if he didn’t quite catch that, “Oh,” He realizes, before smiling brightly and bending over to pull out his small pocketknife out of his right shoe, handing it over to the boy, “Katsuhira,” He beams, “Keep that, you’ll need it, if you want to end up defending yourself. I don’t need anyone dying on me.” He finishes, before looking over the boy’s shoulder and spotting Akiyama making her way over to both of them, albeit she looked reluctant. She should be.
 
Katsuhira assumes navigating them through the narrow alleyways, their pace slow and quiet —that is until they reach a small seclude shop not to up ahead. He makes a show of looking through the front glass window, before looking back at the two who’ve remained quiet up until now. He knows of what lies ahead, he’s setting them up for a trap, but he doesn’t show it. He needs to know the truth, even if the boy is cute and Akiyama has been a strong supporter of the camp. If all goes well, he’ll be able to catalogue the results and take the Ryusuke boy with him. 
 
“Looks like the coast is clear,” He chimes from his position near the window, his eyes staring directly at a pile of oddly deformed corpses in the corner. The door is ajar and the place itself is loaded with what seems to be a good place for a loot. He gestures to the two in a quiet head nod, as he opens the door out wide. From the corner of his eye he spots one of the corpses move, and he makes a note of standing in a position where the either two can’t see it. 


“Care to do the honors of scouting the place?” He gestures to Carter, and makes a note of looking over at Mitsu, shrugging his head over to instigate the boy forward, “Aki-chan, join him, make sure you grab any of the necessities we need. I’m going to keep guard outside. Scream, if you need anything.”

 

[Deviced]

"How much more?"


...


There had always been a sneaking suspicion that this Katsuhira character was less-than-trustworthy; but with every action, every word, and every gesture he'd displayed in these frail little moments, Carter's mind was put into a frenzy, trying to grasp and understand what sort of intentions were present. Perhaps Katsuhira was playing nice, but in reality was some homicidal maniac that would inevitably murder

Carter in the most ruthless and unmerciful way. Not that Carter would particularly mind dying as a whole, he just sort of dreaded the excruciating pain and dying by someone else's hand part-- but death was death.



“You know, when you put it like that, you make me swoon for you duckling.” Carter heard from the perimeter of his thoughts, realizing it was only the remainder of a memory when he noticed the presence of the male gracefully move on toward an alleyway, the sun making patterns on his hair through the branches of a tall oak tree.



Carter found himself staring at the pocketknife he received earlier as a means of protection, and for a moment he imagined ramming the blade between the white-haired male's shoulder blades, just to see if he'd enjoy the sensation of doing so.



He did.



Wandering through the moss laden alleyways proved to be much more fun than Carter expected, especially since he was able to see the last thoughts of those who had died with spray-painted suicide notes consuming the red brick walls, blood spatters painting the shrubs dark crimson while human corpses lay beneath them. Not that the thought of others dying excited Carter-- he was more intrigued by what people had to say in their final moments. It made him wonder what he would say when the time came.



“Looks like the coast is clear,” Katsuhira mentioned from his position near the window once they arrived to the desired location, Carter standing on his toes to try and make out any familiar objects. The teen shuffled his way in with the rest, his eyes not settling on one thing before moving to the next-- it was so dark, and reeked of wet leaves and death.



“Care to do the honors of scouting the place?”



Katsuhira asked almost rhetorically, following up with, “Aki-chan, join him, make sure you grab any of the necessities we need. I’m going to keep guard outside. Scream, if you need anything.”



It didn't seem like there would be anything worth collecting, but Carter continued to walk in, tucking his pocketknife further up his sleeve. It felt strange that he was suddenly recruited into this silent group of maniacs, but he decided against rebelling for the moment-- their alliance could perhaps be helpful for something. Carter turned to face Mitsu with a question of what they were supposed to be finding in the first place, but the prickling of the hairs on the back of his neck kept the teen from doing so. Instead, his ears tuned into a familiar sound, a sound he had never wanted to hear again.



A series of soft croaking noises fell across the silence, sending needles to Carter's cemented feet, large eyes blurring with adrenaline of the purest kind.



That asshole Katsuhira.



A shuffle from across the room drew the teen's eye with a startled jump, a chill momentarily freezing his breaths--


until his frail grip drew in Mitsu's wrist, forcing the pair to sprint across to the adjacent archway. The clicks were replaced with nothing short of a blood-curdling screech, ensuring that the two had been spotted; and with one clicker came hordes.



Carter's legs never stopped moving, his breaths so erratic it was foreign. There was a chorus of shrill cracks and creaky yelps that played behind him, so close that he knew they only had a few more seconds until they were caught and devoured. Carter's grip around Mitsu's wrist never left-- quite the contrary actually. His fingers circled around tighter and tighter with every scream that played, forcing thoughts of  'stop running away' out of his mind with the memory of another person, who surprisingly wasn't Dazai.
 


"Mitsu probably wants to live."
 


It wasn't much of a thought, but it was enough to send him running a tiny bit faster, enough to send him skidding around the corner into the busted public bathroom, to barricade the door with his small body, and to shove Mitsu to the sink where a broken window sat, a hauntingly intimidating structure. Carter watched as realization struck the pink-haired girl's eyes, and she hurriedly squeezed through the small space, a loud 'oof' signalling that she had successfully 'landed'. Next was the genius's predicament. It was hard enough to listen to the clickers outside the door practically call for him, but he had no idea how he was to get out the window fast enough without making a noise. Carter figured that they had at least lost a few, but there were still more begging for the taste of their blood.



All of a sudden a loud noise echoed further down the corridor, almost as if something had been smashed. Whatever it was, the clickers seemed to be drawn to it quicker than expected, and the teen sat propped against the door, ears finally given a break from the merciless shrieking. Without a moment to waste, he shoved himself through the window to land on his back, breath escaping him for a moment.



Carter thought about laying there a bit longer, to just inhale the scent of cold dirt that surrounded him, but he propped himself up instead, eyes frantically searching for Mitsu.



"What did she do? Where did she go?"



The teen weakly pushed himself up until he was standing, only to spot the crumpled image of a familiar female ahead, pink hair creating a curtain between their faces. Carter stumbled toward her, pulling the collar of her shirt with him in the opposite direction.



"We have to go," he whispered,  bringing the girl to her feet and dragging her along, away from the building, and away from Katsuhira.



Their breathing was matched in shallowness, and it wasn’t long before Mitsu collapsed not far from a road.



“Mitsu-san,” Carter breathed, but paused when he noticed all the blood that covered the ground behind him, and that painted the girl’s stomach red.



“I landed on some glass,” she whispered, crunching the red autumn leaves as she lowered her head to the ground.



There was a soft breeze that blew through the alley then, brushing Mitsu’s hair out of her pale, drained face.



“I’m sorry about not letting you be with your friends… but Hisoka won’t let them go too easily. They should be safe for a while.”



Carter swallowed all of the comforting words that rose in his throat, deciding to kneel next to the fallen girl, propping her head onto his thighs. The words went unsaid, yet mutually understood; Mitsu would not make it.



After a few seconds of Carter stroking his fingers through her pink hair, he began to wonder.



“Did you move the rest of the glass out of the way for me?”



“...Yes.”



“And how did you distract the clickers? That noise was you, right?”



“I chucked a rock through the roof.”



“Mmm…”



Mitsu’s words began to dwindle into soft whispers, as if their experience was nothing more than a secret. It wasn’t fair that this person, of everyone who could have been hurt, was the one who got the short end of the stick. Carter cried.



“Thank you, for helping Esso and Miyashita. Thank you for helping me… I wish we could have known each other for longer.” the teen spoke in a soft tone, little teardrops finding their way down his cheeks.


Mitsu only gave a weak smile in response, her blue eyes fluttering closed in agreement.



Came the next breeze, and she was gone.



Carter wondered after that, if Mitsu’s last thought was not a thought at all, but perhaps just a smile. A little smile only he was able to see, a sad smile. A beautiful smile.



Ten minutes went by for Carter to make his decisions-- ten minutes was all he needed to conclude how much he despised Katsuhira, and how he would never submit to that monster ever again. It took another ten minutes to position Mitsu under a Japanese maple, to decorate her hair with white wildflowers, and to wipe his tears as he walked away.



He didn’t want to die anymore, not if it meant causing other people that amount of pain.



He’d live for those who couldn’t.
 

If ever there was to be a grand narration of Mitsu Akiyama's life, stating it was without fear would be a blatant lie. 



Death was imminent.
 


Death was terrifying.
 


However, death was foreshadowed. The steep drop and abrupt end to Mitsu's life would be rapidly approaching as soon as the doors to that store were opened. In the moments before and after that final breath exhaled from her petite figure, there was an intangible peace that could not be removed or grasped. It was the peace that had followed Mitsu closely like a shadow in the dark, never really presenting itself until the timing was just right. When all was said and done, and she lay on the pavement, her head propped up by a boy she barely knew. A boy she had pitied not long before her death. Was she now the pitied one? 



As the girl looked about the store, her foot jostling a couple things loose from a shelf only to find nothing useful, her mind was hyperactive with thoughts of anything but the unapparent task at hand. What was the actual reason Katsuhira had sent these two into the store? 



"Scream, if you need anything." The words rang in Mitsu's ear, teasing her mind and twisting her inside. She questioned whether screaming would really provoke his rescue or if she would remain a damsel in distress (which she would not be surprised if he saw her as one). The girl's pink, pink hair stuck stubbornly to the back of her neck and Mitsu made motions as to put it up when clicks resounded from the corner. Her head whipped in one direction so fast and back as a hand gripped her wrist that she was unsure of what to do as dizziness corrupted her ability to think under pressure. 



Nearly tripping over her own discombobulated self, she felt her legs move in a motion that felt unfamiliar as her fingers curled around Carter's, her nails digging into the insecure foundation that was his skin.

What came next was so swift and unexpected that the girl's world was nothing more than a swirl of colors, sound unable to breach the numbing barrier her mind had put up. Being slammed against the filthy, cheaply constructed sink only caused her body to flail backwards, her elbow landing in the bowl as her eyes peeled open in shock. The distant clicking from outside the door reminded Mitsu that she was not the only one in this room and it was not time to play eenie meenie miny mo with her life.



Her blue eyes that used to be filled to a brimming meniscus with hope now held the gaze of the nearly dead: those that are not so much alive as they are ready to die. She was ready if the time came, but she still held her never ending will to live. Call it human nature, or call it fate, but her eyes landed on the window that lay above her and she took a quite literal "leap of faith." 



It was sharp, agonizing and silent for the moments as Mitsu landed face to the ground on glass before she rolled over onto her back to assess the damage. Her body heaved with effort to keep her afloat as she grit her teeth against the excruciating pain felt as the glass was removed from her stomach. With one hand over her stomach, she mustered her remaining strength to throw a nearby stone onto the far roof of the store. Slowing down was difficult as she skidded to a stop, her feet giving way and letting her body collapse to the ground. For a brief while, her eyes closed and she accepted her death that loomed ahead of her. 



However she was met with hands once more, dragging her along, unaware of the incurable damage already done. Her eyes were glossy and held one of few last smiles as she gazed up at the boy practically carrying her. Her energy dispersed and she gave way once more to the feeling that told her to succumb to the darkness and let go. The wet feeling of the blood that stained her garments and the terrain around her crimson was numbing to the pain Mitsu was feeling in those moments.



The boy dropped to his knees next to her, and his presence was enough to comfort her in her last moments. Her head propped up on his thin, lanky but long thighs, all of her replies were short but said with enough strength to make up for the lack of words in this final hour. 



Her volume decreased into soft whispers uttered among the peace that surrounded the humid air. As the boy began to ramble off his appreciation before he could not anymore, she felt a final, hot tear roll down her dirty cheeks. She replied with a smile that surrendered the rest of her energy to muster, her eyes closing finally. "Thank you" , Mitsu replied to Carter in her mind as the darkness had a whirlpool effect on her.



"I'm home, mom."

 

[Nai]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Katsuhira distinctly remembers telling the kids to[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px] scream[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px], not to [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]Usain Bolt[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px] their asses outta of the compound. Yet, here he was, slyly stealthing his way into the shop with gritted teeth and hastily struggling to pull up his black surgical mask over his mouth. He can already hear the racing protests of his pounding heart, let alone his, already, irritated attitude he felt steaming up from the post-failed ambush he’d set up. Out of all the things he had to settle, and now, he was stuck having to deal with the dirty work. [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]Great.[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px] [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]He’s not even half way through the first opening aisle of the shop, when it hits him, the strongest odor of death, wafting the air, by far. His nostrils are flaring beneath his mask, and he can almost feel himself regurgitating. He has a hand at his mouth, trying to block out the pungent stench as he scours through the relatively small convenience store. From what Katsuhira could tell, the place was a mess, the disarray of everyday items scattered messily across the floor and on shelves, fluids and questionable anomalies sitting in on one corner of the aisle that had Katsuhira questioning if he really wanted to poke at it or not, but wasn’t particularly curious enough to inspect what it, truly, was. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]Frankly, the place was an atrocious mess, on top of the inconvenient hassle he had to go through, just to get the kids back. The plan was to get Carter bitten, and to prove a fact everyone’s been wondering back home about. Was this kid immune, or not? [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]But from the difficulty of things, stuff [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]just [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]didn’t always go as planned. So here Katsuhira was, in the cans food section of the store, judging between which canned flavor meat he wanted to toss overhead, to make a loud enough distraction, to guide the deranged psychopaths from their current crowded position at the end of the hall. The sign above them read: restrooms, to which made sense to Katsuhira, if you had to hide out in a safe enough place, it had to be the bathroom, right? [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]Wrong[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px], because running out of the store in the first place [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]wasn’t at all[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px] an option…[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]Katsuhira clicks his tongue in disgust, and manages to clasp tightly around a can of miso soup. [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]Tofu, gross. [/SIZE]—[SIZE=14.6667px]When he has a moment of realization, the horde has a [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]clicker[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]. At this point, Katsuhira is balancing his options, the possibility of him getting out of this situation was dropping faster than his grades back in high school. And in a worsen account, the horde wielded seven stalkers and one runner. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]In any God given sense, Katsuhira could just have just lured them out, killing each one stealthy, and getting to the kids quickly. But he was short on time, if any one of them had been bitten, or worse. He was cutting it close if he really wanted to see the outcome of both kids either turning, or losing one in collateral damage. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]Katsuhira had to plan this out, he’d heard of Clicker’s high sensitivity, they were the bats of the apocalypse. A mutated freak show of sonar navigation, which meant they had one specific drawback: They were blind. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]They’re blinded by the cordyceps that have corroded their face, large plaque like discs protruding out their faces like petals to a rose, [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]only [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]this one managed to get tangled in the weeds. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]He’s heard of methods in killing them; fire, being the main one, or shanking them straight in the neck, choking them in their own fluids. The possibilities were limited, and that was because landing in their grip was one of the worst things that could happen to you. They’re grasp was a like a vice-grip, and it left anyone feeling weak under their submission. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]Katsuhira was not looking forward to this. He tosses the canned food over the aisles, mutters a quick prayer, and awaits the loud gut-quenching scream bellow across the store. If there were dormant before, they aren’t now. Peeking over the aisle, Katsuhira spots the rush of the Clicker and Runner zip past, the stalkers on the other hand are slower and make their way over at their own pace. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]He takes this as an initiative, creeping his way over across aisles, and rounding the corner to the nearest stalker. He makes the kill quick, shrugging the stalker’s head back at an incline and slitting it’s neck in one quick slice. The corpse gurgles out a cry and collapses face first into a heaping puddle of it’s own blood. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]His heart is racing at the choked scream the stalker let out before it’s death, and he staggers back into the shadows of the poorly lit convenience store. The light to the stores had gone out two months ago, at least in the bigger cities, here it was rare if any place had electricity and Katsuhira was fortunate enough to be in one of those places. The light tended to leave them stationary, almost leaving them dormant, but the dark also left them blinded. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]As the dead begin to change between stages of the runner to stalker, their natural instinctual abilities increase, but their most viable senses begin to lose their touch. This renders their eyesight at a lower level as the stages of infection increase.   [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]It also proves to suit a rather malleable choice in attack: stealth. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]With the first stalker down for the count, the Clicker and Runner seem to be on the prowl for whatever made the noise, whilst, the Clicker seems to already lost it’s eyesight, the Runner has not. It’s head moves in suit with the Clicker’s hums, and Katsuhira for a moment watches them. Could he be witnessing intellectual communication? He doesn’t watches for far too long before he’s disappearing between shelves and hunting the next couple of stalkers. He takes two more out without much of a hassle, but it’s in his fourth kill that he’s made a mistake. One of the remaining stalkers has spotted him between the rows, and it’s cried for reinforcements.  [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]It isn’t long before the runner is the first to leap over a high column of shelves. Katsuhira freezes, and drops the corpse he’d just managed to kill. He’s got his stake knife out and he’s weighing his options. He won’t be able to get a good kill, unless he manages to chop the dead’s head off with an angled slice, and it’s in this unfortunate circumstance that he remembers he doesn’t have any other weapons aside from his stake knife.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]He curses beneath his breath, and manages to dodge a lunge that is made out for him. The greedy hands of the Runner swiping boxes of cereal and other canned goods, as Katsuhira makes a bolt across the aisle. It’s then he finds himself in the kid’s section, and cringes at the blood splotches across the small children’s toys. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]Flashes of his older brother scare him out of his thoughts, and he’s grabbing one of the nearby bats sitting cleanly in it’s respective baskets. The runner that had been chasing him, is now accompanied by two of the three remaining stalkers. He swallows his trepidation and memories, and practices his footwork, as the first swing to the Runner that lunges forward has its head implode from the strike. Blood splatters, and he watches as the body slams into the opposite shelvings, he feels slightly disorientated watching the corpse fall limp, but he doesn’t get time to dread. He has his bat up once more and strikes one of the remaining stalkers in the shoulder, watching the latter collapse as he makes a quick use of his momentum and shoves his foot heel-first into the second stalker’s chest. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]He watches them stagger back, but doesn’t let it rise, before he swings the bat down in one final strike, cracking the head open and splattering blood. He’s not done though, before he makes a swift turn and returns back to the stalker that had only managed to receive a beating at the shoulder. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]He makes another effortless swing to the stalker’s head, and watches as with each strike the blotches of blood stain his clothes, splatter the walls, and smear his hands. He doesn’t realize he’s screaming, until he hears the clicker’s introduction. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]Katsuhira rises from his crouched position above the stalker’s corpse, his clothes stained with blood of his victims, and cracking his neck in threat. The Clicker, however, seems unfazed as it stands not-ten feet away, clicking and humming it’s entrance. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]Katsuhira could run, but he almost feels like that’d be pointless to do so. He’d come so far now. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]Something startles him, and he wonders if it’s because his adrenaline is beating faster than his strikes, or if because his paranoia and sanity levels are dropping. He turns around and spots the last Stalker crowding the opposite end of the aisle. [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]So much for running away. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]He takes a moment to calm himself, the Clicker seems to be awaiting a moment of alertness, whilst the Stalker seems slightly disoriented. In any case, his best solution was to kill the weaker one first.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]Katsuhira makes a run for the Stalker, bringing his bat around, and letting it come full swing against the head of the corpse. The bat, however, breaks upon impact, and he doesn’t have enough time to reach before the Clicker is on top of him. He’s on his back in a matter of seconds, his forearm managing to keep the Clicker’s head at bay, as he reaches for the broken bat, and uses the shard end as a stake. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]The makeshift shank manages to pierce the Clicker’s jugular in one messy strike, blood seeps from the wound and smears all over Katsuhira’s chest in a ceremonial act of defeat. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]He laughs, pitiful and wounded, but laughs nonetheless. He shoves the dead Clicker’s corpse off him, and lays spread open. He feels tired, and most certainly will feel soreness later on throughout the day. He staggers to his feet, and watches beneath him, as blood drips from his clothes. He doesn’t feel any sort of pain, but that could also be because of his adrenaline still pumping. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]He makes his way over towards the restrooms, knocking on the door and muttering a tired, “Open up,” He receives no reply, and in pure rage staggers back before he’s roundhouse kicking the door down. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]The door opens up empty, his eyes trailing up to the open window, and Katsuhira practically twitches with anger. He makes his way back towards the front door of the store, his heels clicking with attitude and tsk. Although, he pauses as his attention falls onto the liquor aisle and in a moment of deep contemplative silence, he makes a beeline towards it.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]He’s drinking from one of the spare drinks that managed to survive, and takes a languid pace to the kid’s section once more. He remembers not having much as a kid, and remembers his mother was a sweet woman, who was weak and couldn’t provide, let alone protect her own kids —His father, he remembers the best, but not for the right reasons. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]He pours the thick liquor on one of the small bears laying across from him, and takes a stroll along the store. Beer bottle in hand and staggering walk, he imagines his father and he cringes as what he’s become. He’s nothing short of him, he thinks, as he lights a match. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]I’m just a [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]monster[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px], … Just. Like. [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]You[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]He’s outside the convenience store, the smell of smoke and crackling ember fill the air, as he reaches for his back pocket and finds the low receiver of his radio still attached to his persona. He takes a moment to look back at the fire that’s now engulfed the building behind him, and makes an effort to walk around the building. He figures he’ll find a trail if he follows the area in which they left from, and sure enough, there it was: The blood splotching trail of dripping blood. The trail was faint, but there. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]He radios into the camp, his voice sounding gruff as he mutters his first cheery hello, that sounds oddly forced. He growls, and awaits a reply, only to be greeted by one of the regular lankies manning the radio.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]“Who’s this— This is a private li-” [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]“It’s Agata, now shut the fuck up and put Yamato on the line,” He hisses, and winces at a dull pain in his lower abdomen. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]“Boss is busy—” [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]“I didn’t ask for the Head, gimme the squirt.” The guy on the line takes the hint and disappears for a bit, before a muffled noise of shifting channels alerts Katsuhira. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]“Agata is on the line sir,” He hears, before a very startled, "What the fuck?!" screams, and takes the radio, "What's taking you so long?!" He hears Hironori scream into the receiver, and Katsuhira practically winches, before pulling the radio from his ear. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]"Miss me that much?" Katsuhira cooes in reply, as he tampers with his lower abdomen, trying to feel any open wounds, "—... and don’t worry so much, we just had a minor set back is all."[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]"F-fuck off."  He’d hear, and smile stupidly, Hironori sure had a way of keeping his emotions in check, he hummed throughout the kid’s rant, "What do you mean a "small set back"? We can't have a set back."[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]"I lost the Ryuzaki kid," Katsuhira affirms, as he follows the path of trickling blood up a steep hill, "But—"[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]"How…” The was a pause, before Katsuhira let out another sigh and pulled the receiver from his ear, "How in the [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]hell[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px] do you lose a [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]teenage boy[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]?!" [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]Katsuhira doesn’t answer that, “[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]But[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px],” He tries again, “I think I have a clue to where he went.” [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]"Then what are you doing?! Follow it, you idiot!"[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]“So … noisy,” Katsuhira scrunches, and takes a moment to stand overlooking the small town, "I forgot to mention, Akiyama is with him"[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]"Good. Where are you?” [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]“Why?”  [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]“Because at this point, I don't think I trust you to fucking do this simple job."[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]Katsuhira takes a moment to breathe, before pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to cool off, “Fine, you wanna find me?” He says looking at the opening canister of iron-clouded skies of steaming smoke and raging flames, “Look outside your window.” [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]There’s a silence in the radio transmission, and Katsuhira makes a note of following the trail, only to stop before a small tree, where the the spring flowers in bloom decorate the corpse of a beautifully lit Akiyama. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]Oh.[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px] [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]“God damnit… Katsuhira—!”[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]He doesn’t hear Hironori’s voice over the radio anymore, instead he pictures his mother’s face resting peacefully before him. He hasn’t seen his mother in a while, and he wonders if she’s alive. Probably not. He thinks as he crouches next to Akiyama and stares at her restful corpse. He did this. He chose to send her in. To kill her with the intention of proving a theory, has he really sucken so low? [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]“Hironori,” He whispers, and this seems to startle the raging boy, “...—I found Akiyama.” [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]It doesn’t take long for Hironori to arrive with his group of three lankies, Katsuhira is still covered in blood and sweat. He feels disgusting in his clothes and he feels unfit to be sitting beside Akiyama. The Ryuzaki kid sure is something else, he thinks, as he fixes one of a loose strands of hair swaying beneath the wind. “Sleep well, Akiyama”[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]"Why the hell are you still here?!” He hears Hironori not too afars away, the clanking sounds of horses trailing right behind him, “We need to find the boy and Akiyama! And why the hell did yo-" And then silence. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]Katsuhira says nothing about his appearance or the corpse of Akiyama, but instead allows Hironori to stare blankly at the corpse before them. Katsuhira says nothing as he strolls over to the distracted henchmen, before ripping one of the blades from one of the lankie’s side, startling both him and horse, and made a quick act of plunging the knife into the boy’s chest. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]The remaining two lankies pulled their weapons out, as Katsuhira stripped himself clean of the shirt he wore and slipped on the sweater the dead latter was wearing. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]Hironori, in his state of fear-induced trance, froze and spluttered out a weak, “—Wha…”[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]Katsuhira, whilst he did kill the latter, said nothing of the matter, but smile at [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]Hironori as he hopped onto the unoccupied horse, “You didn’t bring me a horse.” [/SIZE]

 

[Corgi]

The world had ended. It sounds like some mediocre story line for a crappy drama film that was conducted by an angsty teenager, but that would've been delightful compared to what the world going through. Somewhere amongst the hustle of daily lives, everything went to hell. It went from rainbows and butterflies to terror and death. In a few minutes, it seemed like chaos ruled the Earth and mayhem decorated the sky.


However, in three months, the screams had died down to stillness. To some, it was pleasant. There were no people talking or walking. They could just sit and listen to the sounds of nature taking its course. To others, though, it was eery. Hironori fell into that category.


Hironori paced back and forth, the sound of his shoes on the hard ground being the only thing distracting him from what was on his mind. It had been quite some time since Kitsuharu had checked in with the camp, or at least from what he's been told. For all he knew, his father knew that he was dead and just decided not to tell him, which made him even more nervous. He wanted to go out and look for the male since he was the only person he's ever really been in a conversation with, but he's never been outside of the camp. He doesn't know what lies behind the walls other than the stories that he's been told, which have been a lot.  


His thoughts were interrupted by static buzzing from his radio that was set on a bedside table. Hironori leaped for it and turned it on, knowing immediately who it was.


"What the fuck?!" He yelled, slightly glad that Kitsuhira radioed him first instead of his father. "What's taking you so long?!"


"Miss me that much?" Hironori c..ould practically hear the smirk on the boy's face as heat crept up his neck. "—... and don’t worry so much, we just had a minor setback is all."


"F-fuck off." He muttered, throwing his embarrassment to the side, tapping his foot to distract himself and getting back to business, "But what do you mean a "minor setback"? We can't have a setback of any kind."


"I lost the Ryuzaki kid, but—" Anything else he was going to say was lost as fury lit up like a torch in his stomach.


"How…" Hironori took a deep breath to try and calm himself down but failing as he screamed, "How in the hell do you lose a teenage boy?!"


He truly didn't want an answer to his question, knowing it would only make him even , so he was slightly glad that angrierKatsuhira skipped over it.


"But, I think I have a clue to where he went." Hironori started to pace back and forth again, seeing as tapping his foot wasn't making him any less upset.


"Then what are you doing?! Follow it, you idiot!" He yelled, his paces picking up.


"So … noisy," His comment pissed him off even more as he felt like he would burst any minute. "I forgot to mention, Akiyama is with him"


Hironori really wanted to yell, "Why didn't you say that in the first place?" But was too tired to even yell at him anymore. It was evident that after a few months of trying, Katsuhira probably wasn't fit for the job. So instead he settled with saying, "Where are you?"


"Why?"  


"Because at this point, I don't think I can fucking trust you to do this simple-ass job."


He could hear the agitation in Katsuhira's sigh, knowing that he was trying to calm himself down. At first, he was sure that he wouldn't tell him, which made him start to get even angrier if that was possible, but when he said look outside, a small prick of surprise settled there instead.


Hironori took small, even strides towards the window, and when he saw the billows of smoke rising in the distance, "God damn it… Katsuhira—!"  


When all he heard was static he knew the radios and been disconnected. Hironori threw down the radio, growling incomprehensible words underneath his breath as he grabbed his jacket and trudged out of the room.  


He got stares from many of the soldiers that were on their breaks, some looking nervous and others intrigued, but most just decided to mind their own business like they were supposed to. As Hironori's eyes scanned the crowd, those who were staring looked away before they made eye contact, not wanting to be called out for jobs that weren't mandatory. Unfortunately, for the three that had locked eyes with him, they were called up.


"You three!" He barked, his voice loud and clear, "Get your asses to the front gate, ready to go out of the camp!"


The three of them immediately jumped up and sprinted out of the room. As they passed, Hironori took in what they looked like. A woman with short, light brown hair and dark eyes, quite older than himself, a boy with dirty blonde hair and bright green eyes, possible a few years older than him, and a large man with dark hair and dark eyes.


As he watched them, the rest of the soldiers that weren't picked were staring at him, murmuring among their groups, wondering why and how the boss's boy got permission to go outside the base with only three people to protect him. And to that, Hironori just glared at all of them, marching off to go get his own supplies.  


There were already pre-made backpacks with plenty of supplies in them. Food, water, first aid kits, flashlights, lighters, everything one might need to survive. Then, he went to get a horse. Normally, groups are assigned horses so that there are no arguments as to who gets which one, but since Hironori never goes out of the base, he didn't have one. Since he knew he would have to be quick about his exit, he picked the first horse he saw and hopped on, quickly riding to the front gates where the other soldiers are waiting.


"Listen up!" He yelled, catching their attention as he approached, "We're going out there to find Agata, Akiyama, and the boy! We won't be coming back to we return with them. Understood?"  


The group hastily nodded and mounted their horses. If Hironori was taught one thing by his father, it would be to be loud. And normally, loudness comes with fear, and fear comes with caution, so they respected him and his desires.


Hironori quickly motioned up to the men manning the gates, and right as they opened, he was hit with the fear. He knew nothing of what was beyond the doors he had lived behind for three months. The only interaction he has had with the outside has been looking at it and now he was diving right into it.


It's like taking someone who has never swum in their life and throwing them into the deep end and expecting them to swim like an Olympian. It doesn't work.  


But another feeling hit him as his horse trotted down the road, something he hadn't felt and couldn't exactly identify. True freedom. The exhilaration of doing something that would be deemed unacceptable by his father. In all honesty, even though he could do anything he wanted before the apocalypse, he had never gone against his father's word. Then again, his father has never told him not to go outside the walls, so it isn't a big deal, but he knew it was implied in his words.  


As Hironori's eyes wandered around the street, he took in every detail. The cars on the street were ransacked, rusted, the colors being chipped off and the glass on the windows were shattered. The street was littered with garbage that was dragged out by the wind, tossing it every which way. The small, humble buildings that they passed were starting to become overgrown by vines and weeds, and just like the cars, they were ransacked and broken into.


Hironori may not seem like it, but he's quite a pessimist. He thinks so much that it sinks him into the worst possibilities. So as he was taking in his surroundings, he realized a couple of different things. One, there were plenty of dark corners where the monsters could be hiding. Two, he doesn't know what the monsters look like. And three, he doesn't even know what the monsters can do.  


He suddenly became hyper aware of everything that was happening. The clicking of the horse's hooves, the strong scent of smoke, the feeling of the leather reins, he could even feel his heart beating in his chest. It's like everything came into focus in a bigger lens. Hironori was completely on edge as he rode on, nervously glancing around as they approached the burning building.  


He didn't realize how close they were until he was actually next to it, quickly going to a halt when he saw Katsuhira standing in an open space. His senses were slowly dulled as he was flooded with anger, confusion, and excitement.  


"Why the hell are you still here?!" He said, hopping off of his horse and giving the reins to the female soldier, "We need to find the boy and Akiyama! And why the hell did yo—"  


As he walked towards Katsuhira, he saw something that he never wanted to see. Akiyama's body laid propped up against the base of a tree, flowers decorating her hair. He felt his whole body go cold, colder than the air in November. Time seemed to slow down to a stop as he continued to stare at her pale, lifeless body. Hironori clasped a hand over his mouth to keep him from yelling.  


Since this was his first time going out of the base, this would be his first time ever seeing a dead body, which was not a pleasant sight.  


Hironori was shocked at the tidal wave of emotions he felt. Sadness, anger, confusion, frustration, regret. He didn't even know Mitsu. It wasn't like there was any connection between them. He wasn't even sure he ever said "Hi" or "Hello" to her. There was nothing...—so why did he feel so strongly?


He was quickly brought out of this thoughts when he heard a chorus of screams from the soldiers and weapons being drawn. Hironori's head slowly turned, muttering a weak, "—Wha..."


He saw the large man's body drop to the ground he jumped, his fearful eyes slowly rising up to meet Katsuhira's smile. "You didn’t bring me a horse."


Hironori felt ill.


The sickeningly sweet smile of Katsuhira made him have to turn away for a few seconds to control himself from throwing up. "Weapons down..." He whispered hoarsely, the soldiers hesitantly obeying. "Holy shit." He groaned, crouching and putting his head between his knees in hopes of calming the nauseousness in his stomach.  


"Hey..." Hironori heard Katsuhira's voice, being comforted by it, "We need to leave... If we want to catch that Ryuzaki kid."


Hironori paused for a moment, quickly standing up and nodding, "You're right." He agreed, happy Katsuhira pulled him back on track. "We should go."  


He sounded meek, but as he turned around, it was obvious that he had sobered up from the overwhelming events. When he walked to his horse, he glared daggers at the living soldiers, threatening that if they said anything about what just happened to anyone, it would not end up well for them.


"You said you had an idea of where he went, correct?" He inquired, looking at Katsuhira and completely ignoring the bodies no matter how much he wanted to talk about them.


"It's been little over an hour since I've last seen him. Considering his only friends are still back from which we came, we can ride towards Natori, although that's about a two-hour ride ..."  


"So you don't actually know where he went?" Hironori asked, agitation making itself evident in his voice.  


He had so many questions to ask at this point, the main one being how did Akiyama die, and the second being how the hell did he wind up setting the building ablaze. Speaking of the burning house, it slowly creaked, some of the pillars that held up the house broke off, making parts of the wall tumbling down.  


"Shit—!" He yelped, quickly tugging his horse out of the way before mounting it, trotting away from the burning building. "Didn't your mother teach you about not messing with fire?" He asked, trying to smother the overall upsetting mood in the air.


When Katsuhira said nothing, he took it as if he was upset over plenty of facts that life has given him, so he decided not to ask about it. He just followed his lead and the two soldiers behind him did the same, but occasionally glancing back to where their friend had just been murdered.  


As ten minutes passed with them riding, Hironori's ears and nose were bright red from the cold and his fingers and feet were numb. He realized how long they actually had to go and that frustrated him quite a bit. But what Katsuhira finally said something in response to him, it made him feel a bit better.


"I had to wait for you. He couldn't have gotten that far, look around, he could be hiding."


Hironori doesn't like being told what to do, but in this case, he was completely okay with looking. The sooner he found the boy, the sooner he could get back to the camp.  


"Why did I leave in the first place?" Hironori thought, suddenly annoyed at himself for risking his life for the only person that would probably ever be his friend.  


With a shrug and a sigh, he continued looking for the boy, the anxiousness rising back up into the pit of his stomach as he stared into the dark alleyways.