Archive of Our Own ^beta

Tetsurou couldn’t be sure what it was that took him to the school. Maybe it was instinct, or maybe it was guidance from some divine being. Maybe it was just his brain finally blowing its fuse and using what was left of its energy to take him to his final resting place.

Whatever it was, he was glad for the opportunity to raid the cafeteria for whatever supplies he could get his hands on, but he never could have expected what came next.

“Holy shit,” breathed Bokuto from beside him, and he could only nod in agreement.

Tsukishima Kei lay unconscious (sleeping?) in the storage room of Nekoma High’s gymnasium, covered in filth and gripping a crowbar crusted with blood to his chest.

“What is he doing here?” said Akaashi. “They told us everyone in Miyagi was dead.”

“Let’s ask him,” said Tetsurou, and before the other two could stop him, he stepped forward and nudged at Tsukishima with the end of his metal bat.

Tsukishima moved before he even opened his eyes, lashing out with near-blinding speed and slamming the crowbar against Tetsurou’s bat hard enough to instantly make his arm numb.

“Hey! Hey, it’s just me,” Tetsurou said as Tsukishima scrambled to his feet and raised the crowbar again, eyes open but not looking. “It’s Kuroo from Nekoma!”

Tsukishima froze, blinking at Tetsurou until he registered what he was seeing, and without warning he lunged forward, dropping the crowbar and clutching Tetsurou’s shoulders hard enough that Tetsurou swore he could hear his bones creak.

“You’re alive,” Tsukishima gasped, his voice ragged and fractured, as if he hadn’t spoken in weeks. “You...of all people.”

“So are you,” replied Tetsurou calmly, despite the sirens screeching wildly in his head. Tsukishima reeked of blood, sewage, and garbage, and he’d lost so much weight Kuroo couldn’t even make out any semblance of a human figure through the battered clothes hanging off his shoulders. He looked like he’d been through hell and back.

Not that hell could possibly be any worse than this, Tetsurou remarked silently, though he doubted it would make Tsukishima feel any better.

“I-I haven’t seen a living person in d-days,” stuttered Tsukishima through chattering teeth. He swallowed hard, as if to steel himself. Still, several stray tears escaped from his eyes, streaking wet trails through the grime coating his face. “I thought everyone was g-gone…”

“Whoa--hey, it’s okay,” said Tetsurou, eyes wide. He reached up carefully, not wanting to startle Tsukishima, and rubbed the dirt and tears from his face. “We’re here now.”

Tsukishima jolted like he’d been shocked, and Tetsurou hastily pulled his hand away. “We?” He looked up over Tetsurou’s shoulder, and his breath caught in his throat. “Akaashi-san! Bokuto-san!”

“Hey, hey!” said Bokuto with a big grin. “Glad to see you’re all right!”

“Looks like you’ve been through a lot,” Akaashi said quietly. “You’re safe now.”

Tsukishima let go of Tetsurou’s shoulders to wipe his eyes dry.

“Thank you,” he said after taking a moment to gather himself. “For finding me.”

“Believe me, we weren’t expecting to,” said Tetsurou. “How did you even end up here? Everyone in Miyagi was supposed to be...”

“Dead or infected, I know,” said Tsukishima. “They are.”  

“Oh. I’m so sorry,” said Tetsurou automatically, not that it changed anything.

Tsukishima shrugged, probably because he couldn’t exactly say it’s all right when it really wasn’t. “I was out of town when the outbreak happened, visiting my brother at Tokyo U. When we saw the news, we were going to go back, but then we heard about the ships that were taking off from Koto with evacuees…”

“Those ships left days ago,” said Akaashi.

“We never got to the port,” said Tsukishima. “Those...things attacked us, practically tore the car apart. We got separated, but he was alive the last time I saw him. I ended up here because it was the only place I knew.”

“Dude, props for managing to survive this long on your own,” said Bokuto.

“What about you all?” said Tsukishima. “What are you even doing here?”

“Looking for supplies,” said Tetsurou, and Bokuto lifted a sack of the canned goods they’d found.

“But you should have been among the first to board the ships.”

“We were, but there wasn’t enough room for everyone. We...volunteered to get off,” said Akaashi.

“Actually, I volunteered to get off, and you dolts followed me,” corrected Bokuto.  

Tetsurou shrugged, pointedly ignoring Bokuto’s glare. “We ride together, we die together. Literally, this time.”

“I’m not dying until I find my brother,” said Tsukishima.

“We’ll help you out,” said Tetsurou without thinking. He glanced at Akaashi, expecting to be told off, but Akaashi just nodded.

“Let’s head to base first and get you cleaned up,” he said. “You smell like you’ve been sleeping in dumpsters all week.”

“I have,” said Tsukishima flatly. “The smell repels them.”

“Well, it’s repelling me, too,” said Tetsurou. “Let’s get the hell out of here and get you under running water.”

 -:-

When Tetsurou had woken up on a Tuesday morning one week ago, he’d been anticipating a productive day that involved acing the mathematics exam he’d spent days studying for, directing an engaging practice session with the volleyball team and maybe getting ice cream with his teammates afterwards, and wrapping up with a nice dinner with his family.

What he’d gotten instead was an honest-to-fucking-god zombie invasion.

According to the frantic reports on the news, the virus had appeared first in Aomori and engulfed the entirety of northern Japan (including much of Miyagi) overnight. Tetsurou remembered standing in his bare feet on the cold kitchen tile, watching his parents change the channel over and over, only to see the same reports on every broadcast, and thinking: It can only go downhill from here. And boy, did it.  

Since the first day, almost every major country in the world had reported outbreaks of the same, fast-moving virus and no effective cure or preventive measures. Its path was impossible to pinpoint but for a vague indication of “southbound,” and it wasn’t just fast; it was intelligent.

The Infected, as people had taken to calling them, were dangerous in how inconspicuous they were. They maintained their human appearances, and there was only one true way to distinguish them: every Infected, without fail, hosted what was essentially a heart-sized growth, which was believed to be the main body of the virus, on their initial infection sites. They were strong as well, stronger and faster than any predators the human race had ever encountered, but they didn’t devour their victims--all of their movements were conducted with the express purpose of spreading the virus, and all it took was one bite.

The virus was literally taking over the world.

Worst of all, only living humans were prone to infection. Tetsurou shuddered as he recalled seeing the reports of the mass suicides that had begun sweeping across the region by the third day. Apparently, the consensus was that it was better to go out as a human than become an undead puppet. His parents had gone out together on the morning of the fourth day, cradled in each other’s arms, just hours before Tetsurou had boarded one of the evacuation ships.  

Tetsurou heaved a sigh and pushed down the still-fresh grief that threatened to spill over. He brought his focus back to the present, where he sat in the far corner of a restaurant kitchen with his arms buried in a tub full of dirty laundry. Tsukishima's clothes weren't going wash themselves, and lord, were they a thing to behold.

His jacket was stained and torn beyond all functionality and his pants were missing an entire leg from the knee down. Really, the only article that remained relatively undamaged was his shirt, a white tee with the Karasuno High volleyball team logo printed on it.

They’d played a practice game against each other just weeks ago. Tetsurou still remembered watching Kenma score the final point with a rather anticlimactic dump shot. It was pointless, but he allowed himself to hope against all odds that at least one other member of the Karasuno team had managed to make it somehow.  

“Hey.”

Tetsurou gave a sound of acknowledgement as Akaashi settled down next to him and dropped an old, frayed backpack, which Tetsurou recognized as Tsukishima’s, into the tub.

“Is this all right?” said Tetsurou, holding up the newly washed remnants of Tsukishima’s jacket, and Akaashi nodded.

It had been Akaashi’s idea to keep the jacket and pants for the material. “Tsukishima’s sleeping,” he said as he set to work hanging everything up to dry. “Said he’s never seen anyone use a place like this as base in a zombie apocalypse.”

Tetsurou laughed. “Base” was a short, wide building that had been some high-end restaurant in the middle of downtown Tokyo. The pantry was well-stocked (though it was running out quickly enough), the well built into the kitchen gave them clean water, and most importantly, there were multiple exits that made for excellent escape routes. They’d boarded up the windows before anything else on the day they’d found the place, not that it really made any difference to the Infected, who were strong enough to rip a car door right off its hinges with a single hand.

Amazingly enough, what really kept them away was water, and it had been completely by accident that they’d discovered this on the fifth day. In a moment of desperation, Bokuto had hurled his water bottle at the small group of Infected that had been pursuing them, and the effect had been startlingly immediate. Upon coming into contact with even the smallest amount of water, the main body of the virus had shriveled into itself until it virtually disappeared, and the Infected had dropped like rocks.

After that, the three of them had returned to base knowing exactly what needed to be done. The parking lot surrounding the restaurant had been in the middle of construction when the outbreak had started and the asphalt had been upturned, leaving only the dirt underneath. Using some shovels that were lying around the construction site and water from the well in the restaurant, they’d completed the moat within the night.

It wasn’t so wide that the super-powered Infected couldn’t just jump it if they wanted to, but from what Tetsurou and the others had observed over the past couple of days, the virus was incredibly cautious--almost unreasonably so--and they had yet to witness an Infected make the attempt.

It made Tetsurou wonder how a virus like that could have been born on a planet composed almost entirely of water. Then again, viruses were known for adapting at amazing speeds in the face of unfavorable circumstances.

“Ugh,” murmured Tetsurou, shuddering.

“What is it?” said Akaashi.

“Nothing. Just...man, what a situation.”

Akaashi laughed softly. “Well put, Kuroo-san.”

“You know, I didn’t think you’d agree,” said Tetsurou. “When I said we would help Tsukishima.”

“It’s not as if we’ve anything important to do otherwise...aside from surviving, that is,” said Akaashi. “Besides, I might have disagreed if he was a stranger, but I think it’s safe to say we all consider Tsukishima a friend.”  

“Wow,” said Tetsurou, putting a hand to his chest. “That was kind of touching.”

“You just got laundry detergent on your shirt.”

“Oh, crap,” said Tetsurou, grabbing a clean towel. “This was my last good shirt.”

“So what’s the plan from here, leader?” said Akaashi, finishing the last of the laundry for him and hanging it up to dry.

“That is a position I did not agree to.”

“Mhm,” was Akaashi’s noncommittal reply. “The plan?”

Tetsurou shrugged. “Find out where Tsukishima’s been and start in a place he hasn’t. They got separated en route to Koto from Tokyo U, so it should be safe to assume his brother is somewhere in the general vicinity of that area, right?”

“I suppose so,” said Akaashi. “Although Tsukishima himself ended up at Nekoma.”  

“Well, maybe my killer instinct will step in again to lead us to his brother in the same way it took us to him.”

Akaashi snorted. “I wouldn’t count on it. That aside, how long are we going to spend looking for him? For all we know, he might have managed to continue on to Koto and board one of the ships after all.”

“Ah, man,” groaned Tetsurou. “We’ll deal with that when it comes up.”

“How very prudent of you,” said Akaashi.

Tetsurou ran a hand over his face and fought off the drowsiness that weighed down on his eyelids. These days, he was in a perpetual state of tired.

“Where do you think those ships are right now?”

“They were bound for America, but it’s hard to say whether or not they made it,” said Akaashi. “Or whether they were welcome if they did.”

Tetsurou sighed. “We could have been on one of those ships.”

“Not happily,” said Akaashi. “Besides, we found Tsukishima because we stayed.”

Tetsurou patted Akaashi’s shoulder. “You always know what to say to make me feel better.”

Akaashi cocked an eyebrow. “Isn’t that usually Bokuto-san’s job? I’m the one who always dampens the mood with my acutely realistic outlook on life.”

“Hey, things change. I was supposed to have a volleyball game today, and instead I’m in the middle of a zombie apocalypse,” said Tetsurou. “Speaking of Bokuto, where is he? He was supposed to get started on lunch.”

“Last time I saw him he was out in the back with that chainsaw he found the other day.”

“Well, unless he’s using it to open the stuff we just got from the school, I’d say he probably has better things to do,” said Tetsurou, rising to his feet.

“I’ll get him," said Akaashi. “You should go check on Tsukishima.”

"What, babysitting duty already?"

Akaashi gave him an odd look, as if he hadn’t expected him to say that. “That’s not what you really think of him.”

Tetsurou cursed himself for flinching like he’d been struck and covered it with a weak laugh. “Has anyone ever told you you’re way too sharp for your own good?”

“Probably, but I doubt I would have gained anything from listening to them.”

“Yeah, well, you’re treading on thin ice here,” said Tetsurou, though he knew Akaashi had never been afraid of him.

“Then this is where I make my retreat. Bokuto-san and I will have lunch ready in an hour,” said Akaashi. Tetsurou didn’t miss the small smile that crossed Akaashi’s face as he stepped out of the kitchen.  

Tetsurou scowled into the tub of old laundry water he’d been using. “I’m so smart, I know everything about everyone, nyeh, nyeh,” he mocked at his murky reflection before dumping the water. “What did he expect to hear from me, a heartfelt confession and a detailed outline for a flash mob proposal?”

Tetsurou considered that last part as he made his way out of the kitchen. “Actually, that would be kind of fun. If I had Bokuto on the right and Akaashi on the left, and maybe ten or so Infected in the back doing a routine…”

He trailed off as he entered the banquet room, where they had all of their items stored, and saw Tsukishima lying fast asleep on top of a spare sleeping bag. His glasses, cracked in one lense, were set on the ground beside the sleeping bag, and the crowbar he’d been gripping so tightly to his chest earlier was propped up against the wall nearby, wiped clean (probably courtesy of Akaashi).  

Tsukishima looked so much younger like this, with his clear face and short, unruly hair. Maybe if they’d been here a week ago, Tetsurou could have seen himself shaking Tsukishima awake and saying, “Let’s go somewhere,” taking him wherever he wanted to go, and at the end of the day holding Tsukishima’s hand in his and telling him what he’d been dying to say since summer.

But now, as Tetsurou took in Tsukishima’s sunken cheeks and the deep, round bruises under his eyes, all he could see was the haunted look that had crossed Tsukishima’s face when he’d met Tetsurou’s eyes at the school. He’d look at him like he was seeing a ghost, and Tetsurou realized that he himself might have been wearing the exact same expression.

Maybe, with things as they were, it was enough for Tetsurou that Tsukishima was alive and here.  

Feeling fidgety (he always felt awkward when it was quiet), he busied himself with organizing Tsukishima’s space, where the contents of his backpack lay scattered about the floor.

Most of it was practical survival stuff--a water bottle, a self-powered flashlight, some canned food, and a kitchen knife (though he clearly preferred the crowbar). Tetsurou gathered them and lined them up in an orderly fashion against the wall. Tsukishima’s cell phone was dead, predictably, but Tetsurou put it up with the other items anyways.

He moved on to the rest of the room, clearing the clutter around Bokuto’s space (always a challenge) and leaving Akaashi’s as it was for fear of getting chewed out for it later.

Tsukishima was still asleep when Tetsurou returned to sit down next to him, and Tetsurou couldn’t help but feel a little sad for him. He couldn’t imagine how exhausting it had to have been for him, being on his own for so long and having to stay on high alert every minute just to survive.

Tetsurou pulled Tsukishima’s blanket up over his shoulders, patting it into place. Tsukishima shifted but didn’t wake, curling in on himself and burying his face into his arms. Amidst the movement, Tetsurou spotted a pair of photographs clutched tightly in Tsukishima’s hand, and he tried not to feel guilty for craning his neck over to see what was in them.

A middle-aged European woman with wavy blonde hair and stunning green eyes looked up at him with a soft smile, and it wasn’t until Tetsurou noticed a young Tsukishima and an older boy (his brother, presumably) seated in front of her that he realized the woman was their mother.

Chest tight, Tetsurou gently moved the photo aside to see the one underneath it. He tried to swallow the lump that had formed in the back his throat, but it stuck fast as soon as he spotted the orange and black uniforms he’d come to know so well over the past several months. The Karasuno High volleyball team grinned out at him, standing shoulder to shoulder with their arms around each other and looking unbearably happy. Tsukishima stood at the left end of the lineup, in between the first year manager and the pinch server with the freckles, looking away from the camera and biting his lip like he was trying not to smile.

“Oh, god,” whispered Tetsurou. He took in a breath as if to say something, but nothing came out.

Maybe it was because he knew Tsukishima wouldn’t hear it. Maybe it was because he knew what it was like to lose everyone he loved to something that was now chasing after him with everything it had, and no combination of words would be enough to make him feel any less hopeless about the whole thing.

In the end, he settled with shaking Tsukishima lightly and murmuring, “Hey, get up.”

Tsukishima woke with a gasp and snapped his arm out, nailing Tetsurou square in the face.

“Shit,” Tetsurou hissed reflexively as a dull, throbbing pain bloomed across his cheek.

“Sorry!” said Tsukishima, now wide awake. “I didn’t mean…”

“It’s okay, I’m fine,” said Tetsurou, putting a hand up to his face. “Damn, you’ve got a mean right, though.”

“It’s my spiking arm,” said Tsukishima quietly, and Tetsurou’s eyebrows went up.

“You just made a funny.”

Tsukishima looked vaguely lost. “Not really. I do spike with my right arm.”

“No, I mean--” It’s been less than three hours since I watched you suffer a minor mental and physical meltdown, and already you’re acting like your old self.

“What?” said Tsukishima.

“Nevermind,” said Tetsurou, shaking his head and handing Tsukishima his glasses. “Here. Let’s go get some lunch.”

-:- 

Lunch was great. Tetsurou had to stop Tsukishima after his second serving of canned hamburger beef and miso soup to make sure he didn't eat himself sick, but what really got Tsukishima's attention was the large map of the Tokyo prefecture Akaashi pulled onto the table after they'd all finished eating.

"Got it from one of the classrooms," he said. "Tsukishima, do you think you can point out some of the areas you've already been to?"

"It's all right if you don't recognize or remember them all. We know you're not all that familiar with Tokyo," added Tetsurou.

"It's fine," said Tsukishima. "I'm going to get something real quick."

He returned with a small blue notebook and a pen. "Who knows the nearby areas best?"

Both Tetsurou and Akaashi pointed at Bokuto, and Tsukishima handed him the pen.

"Could you please circle all of the places I name?"

"Sure," said Bokuto with an amiable nod, and the two of them set to work with Akaashi and Tetsurou watching in growing disbelief as Tsukishima went on to recite the addresses of nearly thirty train stations, parks, and schools.

“These are all of the places you’ve been to?” said Tetsurou, trying to calculate just how quickly one person would have had to move just to touch each of them, let alone search them thoroughly while fighting off hordes of Infected.

“No,” said Tsukishima. “They’re all the places Akiteru could be that I haven’t been to.”

Tetsurou adjusted the calculation to include himself, Akaashi, and Bokuto, and concluded that they would all either run out of food or become infected before they could reach even half of the circled destinations.

“Cool,” he said, because the alternative was Yeah, let’s not.

“How did you figure this all out?” said Bokuto.

“I found maps at a couple of the train stations I ended up at and put them together,” said Tsukishima.  

“It would be unreasonable to expect us to be able to reach all of these destinations in a timely manner,” said Akaashi, and Tetsurou and Bokuto exchanged alarmed glances.

He actually said it...

“I know,” said Tsukishima, perfectly calm. “They’re just possibilities. Besides, he’s probably not even...Nevermind. Either way, it’s up to you where we should start if you still want to help. You know the area better than I do.”

Tetsurou turned to Bokuto. “Any ideas?”

“Mm,” said Bokuto studying the map. “Hey, where exactly did you and your brother get separated?”

“I don’t really know,” said Tsukishima. “I mostly spent the first few hours wandering and running blindly.”

“You don’t remember any of the street names? Any of the cafes or shops?”

“Well, there was a hotel on the street where we got separated--I saw Akiteru going towards it just before I lost him,” said Tsukishima. “I went back later and checked it, but he wasn’t there.”

“What was it called?”

“It was one of those chain hotels. The Marriott, or something.”

“Do you remember any of the other buildings surrounding it?”

Tsukishima frowned. “There was...a cafe? I remember seeing it as I came out of the hotel, directly across the street. It had a pink sign with stars on it, I think. There was a ribbon painted on the door.”

“A pink sign with stars across from the Marriott, huh? I’d say that places you around...here.” Bokuto drew a small “x” a few kilometers northwest of Tokyo Port.

“How do you know that?” said Tsukishima.

“I’ve been down that street a few times during my morning jogs,” said Bokuto with a grin. “Anyway, if you ended up at Nekoma, it means you moved northeast, but if your brother continued on past the hotel, he’s probably nearer to the Shinjuku area.”

“Then maybe we can start there,” said Tetsurou. “Sound good?”

“All right,” said Tsukishima. Then, after a pause, “Thank you.”

“Hey, we’re all friends here,” said Tetsurou. “We can head out tomorrow morning. For now, you need more rest.”

“I’m fine,” said Tsukishima, though the fact that he had to stifle a yawn immediately afterwards didn’t help his case.

“Actually, if you don’t feel like going back to sleep, I have something for you to do,” said Akaashi. “Kuroo-san and Bokuto-san, you should come along as well.”

Akaashi’s plan turned out to involve taking Tsukishima out back, handing him a pistol, and instructing him to shoot at a row of wine glasses.

“Uh,” said Tsukishima, holding the pistol gingerly between his thumb and forefinger.

“Never shot a gun before?” said Akaashi.

“No?” said Tsukishima, voice pitching up as he gave Akaashi an incredulous look.

“Not even an airsoft? Nerf?”

“I don’t really have the same penchant for violence as some others might, I suppose,” said Tukishima, looking like he’d just swallowed something sour.

“Akaashi used to go to a shooting range to blow off steam,” said Bokuto. “He’s the only one who knows how to aim that thing.”

“Wait--is this yours?” said Tsukishima.

“God, no. I found it,” said Akaashi. “It’s not even legal for minors to own firearms in Japan.”

“I hope you’re not insinuating you would own one if it was,” said Tetsurou.

Akaashi ignored him and said to Tsukishima, “Why don’t you try shooting it?”

Tsukishima hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“It’s not as hard as it looks. Here.” Akaashi fixed Tsukishima’s grip on the pistol and moved behind him. “Aim for the one in the middle.”

“There’s something vaguely alarming about watching one high schooler teach another how to shoot a gun,” remarked Tetsurou.

“You should see him with a rifle,” was Bokuto’s reply.

Akaashi gave Tetsurou a flat look. “That’s rich coming from the one who brained an Infected with his bat so hard this morning he sent half its skull flying.”

“I did do that,” admitted Tetsurou, “and it was awesome.” He returned Bokuto’s high-five.

Whatever Akaashi might have been about to say in reply was cut off by the short, harsh crack of Tsukishima firing the pistol and missing his target spectacularly.

“Relax your shoulders,” suggested Akaashi.

Tsukishima sighed and lowered the pistol. “Should we really be wasting bullets like this?”

“Don’t worry about that,” said Akaashi. “I have more than enough ammo to last us for months.”

“Oh,” said Tsukishima.

“You don’t have to learn if you really don’t want to. It won’t make much of a difference either way,” said Akaashi.

“Sorry,” said Tsukishima, handing the pistol to Akaashi.

“You’ve nothing to apologize for,” replied Akaashi, unloading it smoothly and tucking the cartridge into his pocket. “There are plenty of other ways to kill an Infected without putting yourself at too much risk.”

“Yeah, how have you been getting around? It must have been tough, fighting them all off on your own,” said Tetsurou.

Tsukishima looked down. “Actually, I haven’t killed any of the Infected I’ve met.”

Tetsurou blinked. “Seriously?”

“I’ve been trying not to fight them,” said Tsukishima. “Figured it would save a lot of energy to just avoid them.”

“What, so you’ve just been outrunning them for a week?” said Tetsurou.

Tsukishima shrugs. “They usually give up after a kilometer or so.”

“It makes sense,” said Akaashi. “Fighting them works for us, but we have numbers on our side. Tsukishima wouldn’t stand a chance on his own.”

“Then you don’t know how to kill an Infected?” said Bokuto.

“Didn’t know you could,” said Tsukishima. “First time I had to fight one, I hit it hard enough to break its neck, and it kept coming after me like nothing happened. I got kind of discouraged after that.”

“From what we’ve come to understand, the only way to really stop an Infected is to hit it in the area of initial infection. For example…” Akaashi picked up Tsukishima’s arm and pointed to a random spot on it. “If you were an Infected whose infection site was here and I was armed with only a bat and a knife as Kuroo-san so often is, I would first strike you with my bat to throw you off balance, and then use the knife in my other hand to attack the infection site.” Akaashi demonstrated by making a swift slicing motion over the imaginary infection site on Tsukishima’s arm.

“Or, you could just use an awesome chainsaw to slice it to bits before it even has a chance to come at you,” said Bokuto.

“You know that thing’s going to run out of fuel eventually, right?” said Tetsurou.

“Yeah, but it’s still cool.”

“Point taken.”

“Well, since I’m sure you won’t have as much fun with the chainsaw as Bokuto-san does, I’m afraid you’ll have to keep it simple,” said Akaashi.

“Don’t worry,” said Tetsurou. “All you need is that spiking arm of yours and you’ll be just fine.”

Tsukishima nodded, though he looked somewhat distracted.

“You all right?” said Tetsurou.

“Yeah,” said Tsukishima. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well--can I ask you guys something?”

Tetsurou exchanged glances with the other two, who nodded. “Go for it.”

“Did any of your friends and family make it onto those ships?”

Tetsurou’s breath caught.

“Tsukishima,” said Akaashi so quietly Tetsurou might have imagined it.

“I’m gonna go,” muttered Bokuto, eyes on the ground as he hastily made his way back into the restaurant.

Akaashi followed him silently, stopping only briefly to put a hand on Tsukishima’s shoulder and say, “You should get some rest.”

Tsukishima watched them go, then dropped his hands and laced his fingers together. “Sorry,” he said. “I should have known better.”

Tetsurou looked up at Tsukishima and thought about the photographs. “Let’s head inside,” he said.

Bokuto and Akaashi weren’t in the banquet room, which seemed to relieve Tsukishima.

“Tired?” said Tetsurou.

“A little,” said Tsukishima. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to sleep right now, though.”

“Still waiting for the answer to your question?”

Tsukishima looked down. “You don’t have to…”

“You have the right to know,” said Tetsurou. “Bokuto and Akaashi would agree.”

Tsukishima fidgeted a little, lacing and unlacing his fingers, before nodding. “All right.”  

“Before we start, you have to promise me something,” said Tetsurou. “Don’t talk about anything I tell you here. It’s not worth the grief you’re going to get from all three of us.”

Tsukishima agreed, expression sincere.

Tetsurou took a deep breath.

“I was at home when the infection reached my town on the fourth day. I woke to the sounds of people screaming and car horns blaring, and when I went to check on my parents, I found them lying dead in each other’s arms. Somehow, they looked happy.

“I got a call from Kenma not too long afterwards. He and his family had left their home and were headed for Koto, where they were supposedly setting up some ships for evacuees. We agreed to meet at the port.

“That was the last I ever heard from him.

“By the time I made it to the port, it was already packed with people lining up to board, but there was still enough room for me at the time. I thought I was home free.

“It was nothing short of a miracle that I met Akaashi and Bokuto on the ship. Bokuto didn’t say anything--he barely even looked at me, but I didn’t think much of it. I was thinking about Kenma, trying to find him, but he never picked up his phone.

“It wasn’t until Bokuto volunteered to leave the ship that I realized something about him was off. Akaashi and I tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen to us, and after a while all three of us ended up getting off. More of the Infected were starting to appear by that time, and we just barely made it to this restaurant as the sun was going down.

“Akaashi told me everything that happened. Fukurodani was organizing buses to evacuate the students and their families, and Bokuto and Akaashi were riding with the rest of the volleyball team when the Infected attacked them. Bokuto and Akaashi were the only ones who made it out, and it hit Bokuto pretty hard.

“As for my teammates…Well, I tried texting and calling them, but I never got any responses. Same with Akaashi and Bokuto’s families.”

Tetsurou exhaled evenly. “It’s been the three of us ever since. Well, until we found you.”

“I had no idea,” said Tsukishima, regret twisting his expression. “I thought Tokyo would have more survivors than…”

“It did. There were a lot of people on those ships,” said Tetsurou. “Some of us just weren’t lucky enough to make it.”

“I’m sorry,” said Tsukishima.

It pained Tetsurou to see him looking so ashamed of himself, as if this were somehow all his fault, and he put on his best smile. “We’ll find your brother, Tsukishima. I’d hate for you to end up alone.”

Tsukishima looked down at his hands, clasping them together almost as if he were praying. “This is selfish, but...if we don’t, could I still stay with you?”

A sharp ache burned in Tetsurou’s chest, and he nearly choked on it. He doesn’t mean you specifically, idiot, he told himself silently.

“Yeah,” he said weakly. Then, after clearing his throat, “Of course.”

Tsukishima leaned forward, and for a second Tetsurou thought he was going to grab him again like he had back at the school, but instead he put his arms around Tetsurou’s middle, burying his face in his shoulder.

Tetsurou returned the hug almost automatically, holding Tsukishima tightly and closing his eyes.

“I think about this a lot,” he almost said, but that wouldn’t have been entirely accurate. What he thought about was quiet starlit dates and warm, full kisses. He thought about holding hands under the table at his favorite cafe and telling whatever stupid jokes came to mind just for a chance to see even a hint of a smile. He thought about spending dark nights under the same covers and falling asleep in each other’s arms.

He’d never once imagined himself sitting here with Tsukishima at the end of the world, feeling his fractured breaths on his shoulder and finding it hard to breathe under the pressure of the alarmingly apparent outline of Tsukishima’s ribs pressing against his own.

“You’re going to be okay. I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly, though he couldn’t be sure whether he was talking to Tsukishima or to himself.

 -:-

Tsukishima insisted on joining them on the supply run.

“We’re just going to the convenience store down the street. It’ll be an hour at most,” said Akaashi.

“Then you don’t mind if I come along, right?” said Tsukishima. “I won’t get in your way.”

“It should be fine!” said Bokuto. “I’ll watch over him.”

“You’re not going within five feet of any of us as long as you’re holding that,” said Tetsurou, jabbing an accusatory finger towards Bokuto’s pet chainsaw.

“What? It’s my partner!” said Bokuto.

“It’s also a giant death machine that you have no idea how to use,” retorted Tetsurou. He held up a metal pipe, and Bokuto took it with a sigh.

“The sun is setting,” remarked Akaashi.

“Let’s head out, then,” said Tetsurou. “Stay close, Tsukishima.”

The four of them crept along the wide Tokyo streets under a heavy red sky, holding their weapons aloft and their heads a little lower, as if it would make them less noticeable.

“The Infected tend to be less active at night, don’t they?” said Tsukishima after a while, spinning his crowbar nervously in his hands.

“Yes,” said Akaashi. “Presumably because their eyesight isn’t any better than it was when they were still human.”

“Then what’s such a large group of them doing out at this time?”

“What?” Tetsurou’s heart jumped to his throat when he turned in the direction Tsukishima was pointing and saw a horde of at least thirty Infected on their tail, ambling less than a hundred meters behind them at a leisurely pace.

“Why didn’t you tell us earlier?” Bokuto yelped.

“I thought you knew!” said Tsukishima.

“Fucking run!” snapped Tetsurou, and they broke into a sprint. He spared a quick glance over his shoulder to see that the Infected had picked up their pace as well, and he cursed.

“There’s the store!” said Bokuto, pointing at a Lawson less than a block away.

“What do we do?” said Akaashi, giving Tetsurou a prodding look.

“Uh,” said Tetsurou, mind racing.

“We can’t just go back empty-handed,” Akaashi insisted.

“I know!” said Tetsurou. “Dammit, they were waiting for us to go into a building so they could trap us. We almost fell for it.”

“How could they be smart enough to do that?” said Tsukishima.

“They’ve been watching us for days,” said Akaashi. “I didn’t think they would actually come up with a plan.”

“Well, we have a plan too,” said Tetsurou. “Akaashi, you take Tsukishima and head back to base. Bokuto and I will run into the store, grab some stuff, and leave through the back.”

“Got it,” said Akaashi.

“Sounds good!” said Bokuto, pulling ahead.

“Wait, what? We can’t split up!” said Tsukishima.

They stopped in front of the store, and Tetsurou only had enough time to put a hand on Tsukishima’s cheek and tell him, “See you soon,” before Akaashi pulled him away.  

Bokuto was already dashing into the store, and Tetsurou followed closely behind, pulling canned food and snacks from the shelves and stuffing them into his pockets and the crook of his arm, all the while keeping an eye on the entrance.

“Go, go, go,” he urged, as if Bokuto needed reminding, and they slipped out of the back door as soon as Tetsurou spotted the first of the Infected through the windows.

They paused to load the goods into their bags, but it seemed like only a second had passed before the Infected were filing into the alleyway.

“Shit, okay, drop the rest, we gotta go,” said Tetsurou.

They turned and headed for exit on the opposite end of the alley.

“We’re gonna make it!” Bokuto gasped, and just as the last word left his mouth, a line of Infected appeared at the opening ahead of them.

“You had to say it,” grumbled Tetsurou, tightening his grip on his bat and drawing his knife.

“Aw, we’ve had worse!” said Bokuto, charging ahead fearlessly and smashing the nearest Infected square in the face with his pipe before plunging his knife into the area of infection on its neck.

It fell quietly (the Infected were always silent, no matter how hard you hit them), gurgling a little on the way down as its last breath left it, and Tetsurou stepped over it to join Bokuto in the fray.

When it came to fighting the Infected, the trick was to not bother with any attempt at mental preparation. The more he thought about it, the more anxious he became, and the worse he fought. In the end, it came down to clearing out his mind and letting instinct take over; if there was one thing he could trust in these trying times, it was the good reflexes he’d honed over the years as an athlete. Of course, smashing-and-stabbing hadn’t exactly been part of his training menu, but he’d gotten the hang of it quickly enough.

“This way!” called Bokuto, who’d beaten himself a path through the wave of Infected, and Tetsurou followed quickly to avoid getting left behind.

They ran without looking back, sending each other frequent glances as if they were afraid the other would disappear, and only dared to slow down when the sky turned dark. The crescent moon shone brightly, but not enough that Tetsurou could see much more than a meter in front of him, and as he pulled out his flashlight he found himself missing the bright Tokyo streetlights.

“Holy shit,” said Bokuto after they’d caught their breath. “That was awesome.”

“Personally, I’m amazed we’re alive,” said Tetsurou. “I hope that was worth it. How much did we get?”

“Hm…” Bokuto rifled through his pack for a moment. “Counting the stuff I put in your bag, probably enough to last the four us another three days or so.”

“Good enough,” said Tetsurou.

“Think Akaashi’s going to be angry? He doesn’t like it when we take risks like this,” said Bokuto.

“He’s the one who didn’t want us to go back empty-handed,” said Tetsurou. “But I can think of someone else who’s definitely not going to be happy.”

 -:-

“How could you do that?”

Tsukishima shoved Tetsurou hard in the shoulder, nearly knocking him to the floor. Tetsurou had never pegged Tsukishima as an aggressive-angry type, and it was his own surprise that left him winded.

“I said I’d be back, didn’t I?” he said.

“You could have died,” Tsukishima snarled. “What if you never came back? We had an agreement!”

“Tsukishima, I wouldn’t have made the decision if I didn’t think I could pull it off,” said Tetsurou. “I said I’d help you find your brother and I--

“Not that,” cut in Tsukishima. “You said you would be here, even if we didn’t find him.”

Tetsurou’s eyes widened. “Tsukishima, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, well, that makes it all better now, doesn’t it?” Tsukishima spoke so sweetly Tetsurou felt his molars ache. “Are you always so quick make promises you don’t intend to keep?”

Tetsurou grit his teeth together. “That was unnecessary.”

“My bad, did I hurt your feelings? Gosh, I can’t imagine how that feels,” Tsukishima continued without mercy, eyes glinting fiercely, and Tetsurou didn’t have it in him to get angry.

“Look, I won’t do it again, all right?” he said in an even voice. "I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“What makes you think I care so much about you?” Tsukishima blurted out a bit too quickly.

Despite himself, Tetsurou had to hold back a chuckle. “You mean besides everything you said just now?”

Tsukishima turned away, cheeks flushed red and all signs of anger dissipating. “Shut up. I didn’t mean it...like that.”

“So you meant it in a way that was supposed to say you don’t care about me.”

“No! I just--” Tsukishima covered his face with his hands. “Ugh, you’re doing this on purpose.”  

Tetsurou smiled and nudged gently at Tsukishima’s arm. “Sorry. I got carried away.”

Tsukishima dropped his hands. “You’re impossible,” he grumbled.  

I’m in love, Tetsurou’s mind corrected forcefully over the sound of his blood roaring in his ears.

Tsukishima was wearing the barest hint of a smile, though he ducked his head to hide it when he caught Tetsurou staring. 

“What,” he muttered, pressing his lips together.

Tetsurou’s reply came in the form of a jumbled gathering of syllables that may or may not have come close to forming the phrase “I adore you.”   

“What?”

“I said ‘nothing.’” Nice cover, not.

Tsukishima stared at him. “Is that true?”

“What, that I said ‘nothing?’”

“No, what you really said.”

Tetsurou swallowed and met his eyes. “That I adore you?”

Tsukishima lowered his gaze. Tetsurou marvelled at how long and pale his eyelashes were, how they just barely brushed his cheek. He resisted the urge to reach out and touch them. 

“It’s true,” he said. “I more than adore you.”

“It would be you,” mumbled Tsukishima. “Of all people.”

“You said that back at the school, too.”

“I know.”

“Do I get to know what it means?”

“It doesn’t really matter.”

“Does it mean you adore me back?”

Tsukishima looked up, expression unreadable.

The apology that was ready on the tip of Tetsurou’s tongue rolled over and died in the back of his throat when Tsukishima leaned forward and kissed him.

His lips were cold and chapped, but that didn’t stop Tetsurou’s head from spinning dangerously as the realization of what was happening hit him with a violent abruptness, leaving his knees weak. Despite it all, he held on valiantly to whatever strength he had left and returned the kiss with a near-delirious fervor.

Tsukishima pulled away far too soon, and Tetsurou didn’t dare open his eyes, lest he wake to find it had all been a dream (it had happened before).

“You know, I kind of imagined our first kiss happening in a less post-apocalyptic setting,” he said.

“So sorry,” huffed Tsukishima. “I’ll get started on fixing that right up.”  

“I’m sure you can find a way to make it up to me,” said Tetsurou, and he leaned in for another kiss.

 -:-

The next morning, Tetsurou woke to the sound of glass shattering and wood splintering.

“Shit,” he muttered, scrambling to his feet as soon as he had the strength.

Bokuto was already up (he was an incredibly light sleeper, bless him) and shaking Akaashi awake (he slept like a log, damn him), and all it took to get Tsukishima up was a pat on the cheek.

“We have to go, come on,” he said in reply to Tsukishima’s questioning grunt.

“I’ll go see where they came in from,” said Bokuto.

“No, we stay together,” said Tetsurou.

Still fighting off their grogginess, they packed what they could--weapons, clothes, first aid supplies--and filed out the banquet room’s back door into the kitchen.

“Stay quiet,” Tetsurou murmured, listening closely for any signs of movement that wasn’t theirs. He heard shuffling coming in from the direction of the restaurant’s dining area, but there was a good chance they were waiting in the back as well, however the hell it was that they’d managed to get past the moat in the first place.

“This doesn’t look good,” said Akaashi. “The virus is learning far more quickly than we thought it would.”  

They paused in front of the side entrance.  

“Get ready for a fight and--” Tetsurou did a double take at the sight of the chainsaw gripped in Bokuto’s hand. “Bokuto! You can’t bring that!”

“What? Why not?”

“How are you supposed to fight? Leave it!”  

“I’m using it to fight, duh!”

“No way in hell.”

“Maybe you should let him keep it,” said Akaashi. “I’ll cover him.”

Tetsurou half expected Akaashi to burst out laughing and say “just joking!” (as bizarre as that would have been), but he looked as serious as ever.

“You’ve got to be kidding me...”

“In a situation like this, it could prove to be advantageous. Let’s just see what happens,” said Akaashi.

“You two are going to be the death of me,” Tetsurou groaned. “Do what you want, but stay close. Who knows how many of them are out there--if we get separated, it’s over.”

“We need a rendezvous point, just in case,” said Akaashi.

“Shinjuku Station,” said Bokuto. “We were going to start there anyway, right?”

“All right,” said Tetsurou. “Ready?”

The sight that greeted them beyond the door was not much different from what Tetsurou had imagined, but it didn’t make him feel any better about it. The entire street was crawling with Infected, and there was a group of around twenty or so surrounding the restaurant. Several of them were wading through the moat, taking care to keep their infection sites from touching the water.  

The first one to notice Tetsurou had the misfortune of getting its jaw bashed off its face, and what followed from there could only have been described as a small-scale battle.

The roar of Bokuto’s chainsaw scraped and rasped against Tetsurou’s eardrums; he could barely hear himself think, but it at least meant Bokuto was close. Akaashi’s pistol rang out periodically, sharp and precise, and Tetsurou realized a little too late that he should have considered the noise would put them at risk of attracting even more Infected, as if they didn’t already have enough on their plate.

Every time Tetsurou took one Infected down, a seemingly bigger and faster one replaced it without a beat, and it took all of his focus just to move forward. Tsukishima kept close to him, always moving just within his line of sight, and Tetsurou could only hope the others were keeping up as well.

The damp autumn heat was nearly unbearable, pressing down on them relentlessly like a giant steam iron, and their first order of business after finally breaking free of their pursuers was to find a shaded area to rest.

“How are we doing?” Tetsurou exhaled heavily as he dropped onto the grass under a large oak tree in the middle of a small neighborhood park.

“We’re all uninjured,” reported Akaashi. “No bites.”

“Good. Bokuto, any idea how far it is from here to Shinjuku Station?”

“Probably just a few minutes’ walk.”

Tetsurou turned to Tsukishima, who was sitting beside him with his head between his knees. “You all right?”

Tsukishima inhaled shakily, but didn’t reply.

“Hey, talk to me.” Tetsurou ran a hand through Tsukishima’s hair and was relieved when he didn’t recoil from the touch. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” said Tsukishima. “Not really.”

“Are you hurt?”

Tsukishima shook his head. “I just...need a moment.”

“All right. We’ll go look around then--”

“Wait.” Tsukishima lifted his head to give Tetsurou a pleading look. “Could you stay?”

“Yo,” Bokuto said quietly, but Akaashi cut him off with an elbow to the gut and led him away.

“Do you want some water?” said Tetsurou.

Tsukishima shook his head again.

Tetsurou opened his arms, and Tsukishima leaned into him.

"What's up?" said Tetsurou.

"How do you do it?" said Tsukishima. "They look just like normal people. How do you just..."

"Oh," said Tetsurou.

"What if they're still alive in there somewhere? Don't you ever think about that?" said Tsukishima.

"I do," said Tetsurou. "But not while I'm fighting them."

"Then what do you think while you're fighting them?"

"It’s us or them. That’s the only thought that goes through my head every time I look an Infected in the eye," said Tetsurou. "And the decision I make is the same every time."

Tsukishima squeezed Tetsurou tightly, as if he were holding on for dear life.

"We're going to end up like them eventually," he said.

"I know," said Tetsurou. They all knew.

"But we keep running."

Tetsurou pressed a kiss to the crown of Tsukishima’s head. "Maybe we're not quite ready to say goodbye to each other just yet."

"Last night I heard Bokuto-san and Akaashi-san talking," said Tsukishima. "They were discussing plans for something. It almost sounded like a wedding."

"Yeah, they do that. Bokuto doesn't look like it, but he's actually got a pretty fragile heart, you know? Stuff like that helps him cope."

"Stuff like talking about the future they could have had?"

"The future they'd like to have," corrected Tetsurou.

"What's the point?"

"Don't knock it 'til you try it."

Tsukishima fell silent, and Tetsurou wondered if he could feel his heartbeat in this position, with his cheek pressed to his chest.

After a moment, Tsukishima said in a small voice, "Could we try it?"

"Right now?"

"We don't have to. I was just...forget it." Tsukishima ducked his head to hide the blush on his face.

"Hmm," said Tetsurou. "I'd like to take you to a nice cafe sometime."

Tsukishima shifted and looked up. "What?"

"Like, the kind of place that's not too crowded but still has that nice chattery kind of background noise, you know?" Tetsurou continued. "What's your idea of a good date?"

"Um," said Tsukishima. "I don't really know. I've never dated anyone before."

Tetsurou sighed. "Hey, it takes two to do this activity, you know? You don't have to think so hard about it; just pick somewhere you like."

"There's...this museum near my house," said Tsukishima. "It has a paleontology exhibit with, um, some really nice displays."

"Sounds cool," said Tetsurou.

It was subtle, but Tsukishima's expression brightened. "Mhm. And there's this bakery across the street from it that makes really good strawberry shortcake."

"Yeah? We should go.”

Tsukishima nodded. “Admission to the museum is free on Sundays.”

“Sunday it is,” agreed Tetsurou, and he tilted his head down to kiss Tsukishima.  “How are you feeling?”

“Better. Thank you,” said Tsukishima.

“Glad I could help,” said Tetsurou. “Hey, you know what would be another cool place to go? We could…”

Tetsurou cut himself off when he heard the sound of footsteps approaching in the grass, but it was only Akaashi and Bokuto returning from wherever they’d gone.

“Let’s move on,” said Akaashi.

Bokuto pointed over his shoulder. “Shinjuku’s that way. The path looked clear, but we should probably try to be quick anyway.”

“Sure,” said Tetsurou, rising to his feet and helping Tsukishima up. “Ready to go?”

Tsukishima nodded, and they headed out.

“Man, this weather is killing me,” groaned Bokuto about three minutes in, swiping a hand across his forehead.

“At least it’s keeping the Infected inside. They don’t seem to deal well with the heat,” said Tetsurou.

“Neither do I,” said Bokuto. “I’m an indoor athlete.”

“Well, aren’t you delicate,” teased Tetsurou, knowing full well that Bokuto was anything but, especially with the way he was swinging his ever-present chainsaw in his hand like it weighed nothing. “I can’t believe you’re still carrying that thing.”  

“Oh, yeah,” said Bokuto, raising it to examine it as if he knew anything about chainsaws. “I think it’s busted, though.”

“Sucks. Guess you’ll have to duke it out the boring way like the rest of us now,” said Tetsurou with a shrug.

“Akaashi gets to keep his dumb gun,” mumbled Bokuto.

“Akaashi saves lives with his dumb gun,” said Tetsurou.

Akaashi-with-the-dumb-gun rolled his eyes and turned to Tsukishima, offering him his water bottle. “Are you doing all right?” he said.

“Yeah, thanks,” said Tsukishima. “What are we going to do from here?”

“Find a new base, I suppose,” said Akaashi, looking to Tetsurou for confirmation.

"Pretty much," said Tetsurou. "Though I'm not sure how long our next base will last. We might just end up having to stay on the move permanently."

“Like a neverending road trip?” said Bokuto, who had no business looking so excited.   

“Oh, goody,” said Tsukishima flatly.

“Perhaps a warehouse or something of the like would make a good base,” offered Akaashi.

“It would be a lot more secure than the restaurant was,” agreed Tetsurou. “Any idea if we could find one around this area, Bokuto?”

“There are a few departments stores down that way,” said Bokuto. “The station’s in the opposite direction.”

“We have time before the sun starts setting. Let’s check out the station,” said Tetsurou.

Shinjuku Station was not a pleasant place to be at the end of the world.

“Did you guys bring your flashlights? I totally forgot mine,” said Bokuto as they made their way down the stairs to the underground platform.

The darkness was stifling, and Tetsurou sent a quick prayer upwards as he pulled out his flashlight.  

Akaashi and Tsukishima followed suit, and Tetsurou sighed when Bokuto let out a sad whimper. “Bokuto, what didn’t you forget besides that chainsaw of yours?”

“Probably more than I should have,” admitted Bokuto. “Still keeping it, though.”

Akaashi shushed them suddenly, and they all came to a stop.

"What is it?" whispered Bokuto.

Akaashi put a finger to his lips and then cupped a hand over his ear, indicating for them to listen.

From the bottom of the staircase came the sound of something sweeping across the floor, and it took them all a moment to realize it was actually heavy, shuffling footsteps.

Very slowly, Akaashi directed his flashlight towards the platform.

Bokuto inhaled sharply, and Tetsurou slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle his yell.

The entire platform was filled with Infected, packed in shoulder to shoulder and wandering aimlessly amongst each other.

“Okay,” whispered Tetsurou so lightly he wasn’t sure if the others could hear him. “Let’s just...very slowly…”

They inched carefully back up the stairs, hardly daring to so much as breathe.

"Wait," said Tsukishima before they'd taken three steps. He had his flashlight trained on a group of infected deep within the crowd. "That's..."

"Put it down!" hissed Tetsurou. "They'll notice us."

"Too late," said Akaashi.

With perfectly synchronized timing, every Infected on the platform froze and turned to stare at them.

"That's not creepy at all," muttered Bokuto.

"Go,” said Tetsurou.

“But that--”

Tetsurou grabbed Tsukishima’s wrist and hauled him up the stairs three at a time, staying close on Akaashi and Bokuto’s heels.

“Drop the chainsaw, Bokuto,” said Tetsurou when Bokuto began lagging behind.

“Hell no!”

“If the Infected don’t kill you, I will! Drop the damn chainsaw.”

Before Bokuto could protest further, Akaashi swiped the machine from his hand and hurled it at the nearest Infected, decking it right in the face.

“I didn’t even get to say goodbye!” wailed Bokuto.

“Where are we going?” said Akaashi, ignoring Bokuto’s anguished cries.

“I don’t know, but we have to lose them,” said Tetsurou.

“Then we keep running,” said Akaashi. “They always tire out quickly.”

Tetsurou was a volleyball player, not a track runner. Thankfully, the crowd behind them thinned out fairly quickly, and by the time they reached what was probably around the two kilometer mark all that was left of their pursuers was a small, scattered group of around ten Infected.

“All right, let’s get rid of them,” Tetsurou panted. “Because I honestly can’t run anymore.”

Compared to what they’d been through that morning, a dozen Infected between the four of them was an absolute treat. Tetsurou fought ruthlessly, eager to get a chance to rest, and he nearly threw Tsukishima off when the other suddenly latched onto Tetsurou’s arm right as he raised his knife to the last Infected.

“Wait!”

“Watch it--!” The Infected lunged at them, and it took everything Tetsurou had not to lose his balance as he stumbled back, pulling Tsukishima along with him. “Bokuto!”

Bokuto was already there, driving his knife into the infection site on its shoulder. It fell silently, as they all did, its eyes locked on Tsukishima as if it knew him.

Tetsurou sighed and turned to Tsukishima. “What is with you today?”  

Tsukishima stared down at the fallen Infected, absolute horror etched into every line on his face. “That’s...that’s my…”

Tetsurou turned his gaze on the Infected, and his stomach sank. Why hadn’t he seen it sooner? The Infected had the same pale hair and golden eyes as Tsukishima.

“That’s your brother.”

 -:-

Tsukishima was silent.

He was responsive, thankfully--they couldn’t have him freezing up while they were still stuck out in the open, but he didn’t make a single sound throughout the entire evening as they hunted for a new base.

An abandoned department store wasn’t necessarily an ideal choice for a base, but with its concrete walls and lack of windows, it was good enough for them.

For a while, none of them dared to speak as they watched Tsukishima lay his belongings out in the space he’d chosen. He moved almost mechanically, as if he was operating on autopilot, eyes wide and unfocused. After having meticulously placed all of his items in a circle around his sleeping bag, he sat down and directed his blank stare towards the wall across from him.

“Tsukishima,” Tetsurou said softly.

There was no reply.

“Say something,” said Tetsurou. “Let us know you’re still with us.”

Tsukishima looked at him, but it was with that same distant gaze, and Tetsurou knew he wasn’t truly listening to him.

“He’s going to need time,” said Akaashi.

“I wish we could give it to him,” said Tetsurou.

“Man, I really messed up this time, didn’t I?” said Bokuto, slumped over on his sleeping bag and looking uncharacteristically pale.

“It’s not your fault,” said Tetsurou. “If you hadn’t done it, I would have.”

“There’s nothing else we could have done. He was already infected,” said Akaashi.

“Well, yeah, but we could have at least…” Bokuto paused, as if he’d forgotten what he’d meant to say. He frowned and tried to stand, putting a hand to his head. “I...whoa…”

Akaashi was on his feet in the next second, holding out his hand. “Are you all right?”

Bokuto blinked rapidly several times, his breathing harsh and strained, and then without warning he tumbled bonelessly to the ground.

“Shit!” Tetsurou sprang into action immediately, pulling Bokuto onto his back and tapping his cheek. Bokuto’s eyes fluttered open briefly and he made a small sound; he was clearly struggling to stay conscious.

“Check him for injuries,” said Tetsurou, looking up at Akaashi. “He might be losing blood from somewhere.”

Akaashi hesitated, still looking stunned.

"Akaashi! Did you hear me?"

“Y-yes; my apologies.” Akaashi dropped to his knees beside Bokuto.

Tetsurou began rifling through his bag for the first aid kit. None of them knew the first thing about attending to a serious wound, but that was the least of Tetsurou’s concerns. “This had better be something a roll of gauze and a couple of aspirins can fix.”

“It’s...really not,” said Akaashi faintly, raising Bokuto’s left arm weakly.

On the inside of Bokuto’s forearm was an all too familiar mark.

A dark, cold dread crept its way up Tetsurou’s throat, leaving him struggling for breath.

“No,” was all he managed to choke out.

“He probably doesn’t have much time,” said Akaashi, and Tetsurou couldn’t help but admire the way his voice remained steady, the way his lip quivered only slightly.

The bite itself was small and just barely broke skin, but the area surrounding it was inflamed and covered in hives, as if Bokuto’s body was having an allergic reaction to it. At least three different fluids were leaking from the opening of the wound, and they seemed to be releasing a rather foul stench into the air.

Tetsurou’s stomach churned, and it wasn’t just the smell.

“We have to do something,” he said.

“The virus already has him,” said Akaashi, his voice breaking.

“He’s still alive,” insisted Tetsurou. “We just need to get rid of the virus. The main body never leaves the initial infection site, right? All we need is some water.”

“That was just a theory we came up with. What if it does move? We won’t be able to reach it,” said Akaashi.

“If we do nothing, he’s going to die anyway. We have to at least try,” said Tetsurou.

The last of their water consisted of a half empty water bottle, but it would be enough. Akaashi carefully dabbed away the bizarre fluids surrounding the bite wound, and Tetsurou poured the water onto it.

Nothing happened.

“Why isn’t it working?” said Akaashi in a frantic whisper.

“You don’t think…” Tetsurou hesitated as a terrible thought came to mind. “Could it be that the weakness to water only occurs in fully formed Infected?”

“That can’t be,” said Akaashi. “This is the only way we know.”

“We can carve the flesh out,” said Tetsurou. “Physically remove the infection site.”

“We’re not surgeons--we could seriously injure him.”

“Akaashi, he’s already dying,” Tetsurou reminded him. “There’s no risk here short of certain death that would be too great.”

Akaashi looked hard at the infection site on Bokuto’s arm, like he was waiting for it to shout the answer out at him.

“Akaashi--”

“Fire.”

Tetsurou blinked. “What?”

“There is no living thing in this world that fire won’t kill. If this virus was born on Earth, then fire is the answer,” said Akaashi.    

“Holy shit, you’re a genius,” said Tetsurou.

Akaashi dug a cigarette lighter out of his backpack. “It’s going to take two to hold him down while I do this. We need Tsukishima.”

Tetsurou turned to look at the individual in question, who had not moved or made a sound since Tetsurou last spoke to him.

Tetsurou wished he could fold his arms around Tsukishima and murmur gentle reassurances in his ear, hold his hand and give him the time he needed to regain himself.

But the fact was that they needed him right now. He didn’t have to be better; he just had to be with them.

“Tsukishima, get ahold of yourself,” Tetsurou said firmly, putting his hands on Tsukishima’s shoulders.  

Tsukishima blinked, but offered no response.

Tetsurou shook him, but he merely shrugged his hands off, looking mildly irritated.

Tetsurou inhaled deeply, then let it out evenly. “Sorry for this.”

The first and only time Tetsurou had ever slapped someone across the face had been in the summer of eighth grade, when an argument with a classmate had gotten out of hand. The individual had been a subject of extreme distaste for Tetsurou, but even then he’d felt terrible the moment the blow had connected.

Now, raising his hand against Tsukishima, even the reminder that he was doing this to help Bokuto couldn’t stop him from feeling like complete and utter garbage.

Tsukishima gasped like a diver coming up for breath and his hand flew to his cheek where he’d been struck.

“Wh-what was that for?” he sputtered.

"Sorry, really, but I need you to get your shit together for about ten minutes," said Tetsurou.

“Why did you hit me?” said Tsukishima, looking like he’d just suffered the worst betrayal in his life. In any other context, it might as well have been.

“I’m sorry, I really am,” said Tetsurou, taking Tsukishima’s face between his hands. His cheek was hot, and Tetsurou’s hand was still tingling. His stomach twinged with discomfort at what he’d done, but he pushed it down and kissed Tsukishima twice on the lips. “I just really need you to be here right now. Can you do that?”

"I-uh, yeah," said Tsukishima, though he was still staring at Tetsurou with wide eyes.

"I need you to help me hold Bokuto down. Come on."

Bokuto was virtually unconscious, but Tetsurou could imagine that even in this state he would find being set aflame (even if it was only a small section of his arm) to be extremely painful.

"Are we really going through with this?" said Tsukishima, putting his hands over Bokuto's chest as Tetsurou had instructed.

Tetsurou positioned himself above Bokuto's head and braced his hands on his shoulders. "Don't be afraid to put your whole weight on him once he starts up. He's strong--like, crazy strong."

"I've blocked his spikes," said Tsukishima. "I know."

Tetsurou managed a weak smile. "Good to hear you talking more like yourself."

Akaashi swallowed audibly and switched on the lighter. "This is such a bad idea."

"I'm sure we've had worse," said Tetsurou.

Akaashi clasped Bokuto's arm tightly and put the flame to the bite wound.

Bokuto passed out after the first scream.

 -:-

The hardest thing about waiting was the uncertainty.

"What if he doesn't make it?" said Akaashi for what might have been the fifteenth time in the past hour.

"He's going to make it," Tetsurou answered calmly, just as he had every time before that. His own nerves had him on edge, and he had to remind himself repeatedly that this was not the time to be losing himself.

Tsukishima, exhausted but somehow looking better than he had since that afternoon, sat with his head resting on Tetsurou's shoulder and said nothing as he watched Bokuto's chest rise and fall with each shallow breath.

"What if the virus is still in there?" said Akaashi.

"Then he would have turned by now. We got the virus, Akaashi. He's going to be okay."

“He’d better be. He owes me an explanation.”

Tetsurou could have sworn he saw Akaashi’s expression darken for a second, but it was gone in the next moment.

There was a shaky intake of breath, but it came from neither of them. They looked down.

“Hey, hey, hey,” said Bokuto weakly. “What’s all the fuss about?”

Akaashi let out a sound that might have been an attempt to hold back a sob.

"Holy shit," said Tetsurou. He lifted Bokuto by the shirt and pulled him into a fierce hug. "Welcome back."

"Oh--" Bokuto groaned in pain.

"Sorry, sorry." Tetsurou laid Bokuto down gently, taking care not to jostle his bandaged arm again. "Man, you should have seen Akaashi's face just now."

"Uh," rasped Bokuto. "The one where he looks like he's about to kill me?"

Tetsurou looked up and flinched. That dark expression from a moment ago had returned full force.  

“Why didn’t you tell us you were bitten?” Akaashi snapped.  

Tetsurou and Tsukishima exchanged wide-eyed glances.

“Oh, hah…” With what appeared to be much effort, Bokuto swallowed. “I, ah...hadn’t really noticed until…”

“Liar," said Akaashi through gritted teeth.

His brow was furrowed deeply and he was clenching and unclenching his hands as if he was fighting the urge to hit someone. Anyone who didn't know him might have taken him for mildly angry, but Tetsurou had never seen Akaashi look so furious in his life.

“You were going to wait until you turned, weren’t you?” said Akaashi. “Because you think you deserve it after what happened to the others. And then you were just going to let us kill you like any other Infected.”

Tetsurou tried to cut in. “Akaashi, that’s a little--”

“Please stay out of this, Kuroo-san.” Akaashi spoke calmly, but the ferocious glint in his eyes was hard to miss. “You weren’t there on the day we lost all of our friends.

“You didn’t see the way he looked at them like he wished it had been him instead.”

“Akaashi,” Bokuto began, but he didn’t seem to have the strength to continue.

“If you go, where does that leave me?” said Akaashi.

Bokuto sighed. He closed his eyes, and for a second Tetsurou feared the worst--but then he spoke, his voice even fainter now than it was before.

“All I’ve done is cause you trouble.”

“You’re worth it. You always were.” Akaashi took Bokuto’s hand and held it to his chest. “You don’t get to leave just yet.”

“I’m sorry. I was being selfish,” said Bokuto.

“So am I. I can’t--” Akaashi stopped and took a breath, and Tetsurou realized he was trying not to cry. “I c-can’t be without you. Not when you’re all I have left.”

“Akaashi,” Bokuto said gently.

“I know it’s stupid because we’re all going to die soon anyway, but I--”

“Akaashi,” Bokuto said again, this time more firmly. “I love you.”

Akaashi gripped Bokuto’s hand so tightly it turned white, but neither of them seemed to notice. “I love you too, you oaf.”

 -:-

They slept late that night, reluctant to leave Bokuto on his own until he insisted he felt fine. Akaashi stayed with him, fussing quietly over him every half hour, but no one heard any protests from Bokuto then.

While much of the department store had been sacked during the evacuation, they still managed to find a good number of clean, unused blankets, and it was nice to not have to wriggle into their thin, noisy sleeping bags for once.

“Let’s share,” Tetsurou said to Tsukishima, and together they set up their makeshift bed.

“I kick in my sleep,” Tsukishima warned him as they lay down next to each other.

“As long as you don’t spike in your sleep, I’m sure I can handle whatever you throw at me,” said Tetsurou.

“You can’t know that for sure,” said Tsukishima.

Tetsurou simply smiled and ran a thumb over Tsukishima’s cheek. “I owe you an apology.”

Tsukishima leaned into his touch. “It’s fine. At least it worked...mostly.”

Tetsurou kissed him, gently as he could, and his heart rate just about doubled when he pulled away and saw the blush dotted across the bridge of Tsukishima’s nose.

“Could we continue what we were doing earlier today? At the park?” said Tsukishima.

“Sure. Do you want to start?”

“You can start.”

“All right, then.” Tetsurou took a moment to think. “We could go to the beach. Make it a double date kind of thing, too, with the other two.”

Tsukishima pulled the blanket up over their chins. “I hate sand.”

“Aw, what? Then where do you want to go?”

“I don’t know. Somewhere I can find people I know.”  

Something in Tetsurou’s chest grew heavy, and he put his arm around Tsukishima. “I’m sorry about your brother.”

“I feel like I knew it was going to happen.” Tsukishima’s voice grew thick, and he sniffled lightly. “I just didn’t think it would be so sudden. I wish I could have at least said goodbye.”

“I’m sorry,” Tetsurou said again. “I should have noticed. We could have tried to help him.”

“You did help him, and I still got to see him in the end, so no more apologies,” said Tsukishima. “Please.”

“All right. No more apologies.”

They lay there, listening to each other breathe, but neither of them seemed to be able to fall asleep.

“Kuroo-san,” whispered Tsukishima.

“Yeah.”

“At the park, you were going to say something, but you didn’t get to finish.”

“Mm? Oh, that’s right,” said Tetsurou. “About where I’d like to take you, yeah?”

“I guess.”

“Right, right.” Tetsurou moved in closer so he could speak into Tsukisihma’s ear to avoid waking Bokuto and Akaashi. “So, there’s this place near my old elementary school where, if you turn right off the bike path in between these two trees, you’ll come across this grassy hill. And if you climb to the top of the hill just before the sun sets, you get to watch the entire city turn this brilliant red, and it’s absolutely beautiful. There’s nothing like it.”

Tsukishima hummed and closed his eyes. “Take me there?” he murmured, voice barely audible.

“First thing tomorrow. You’ll love it.”

Tetsurou waited several moments for Tsukishima’s reply before realizing he’d fallen asleep, and he let out an amused huff.  

“See you soon,” whispered Tetsurou, pressing a light kiss to Tsukishima’s forehead.

That night, he dreamed of green hills and red sunsets and Tsukishima’s smile, and for the first time in weeks, he wasn’t afraid of waking.