Chapter Text
The quiet hissing and crackling of an old radio faded out, the once cozy and lively apartment falling into a, quite literal, dead silence. Momota gave the device a couple of sluggish smacks to the side, making sure it really was done for. The batteries must’ve finally died. Not that it even mattered. It’d been playing nothing but white noise ever since humanity had withered away.
How long had it been? Days? Weeks? Felt like forever. Like nothing else had ever existed. Like all of Momota’s life before the outbreak was just a dream he had once had while lying helplessly on his bedroom floor, waiting for his turn at life that never came. However long it’d been, it was enough to get used to even the nauseating stench of decay that now enveloped the entire city– no, the entire nation.
With a quiet groan, Momota got up from the floor, left the bedroom and stumbled towards the kitchen in the complete darkness. He mechanically flicked the light switch along the way, which still didn’t do anything.
He grabbed a glass, filled it with tap water and took a sip. Probably wasn’t safe, but Momota had long since stopped caring. If the disease could kill him, then surely it would’ve done so by now.
Though the blinds on the kitchen window blocked out most of the light, he could still make out the outline of the ajar door to his grandparents’ room. Both of their bodies were still in there. Momota couldn’t bring himself to get rid of them. Wouldn’t be much point to that, anyway…
He shook his head. He couldn’t stand thinking about this. He was tired. So goddamn tired of this apartment. Of this silence. Of this smell. Of this utter boredom and loneliness. Day after day, doing nothing, just wasting time, waiting for his belated death to finally come. It was more than welcome at this point.
Unable to look in the door’s direction any more than he already had, he turned to the window and pulled up the blinds a little bit. He didn’t know what he was expecting to see – he was sick of this despair-inducing view just as much as he was of the apartment. An empty road, a corner of a below-average convenience shop, and a couple of rotting corpses. At least, that’s what he was used to seeing…
Momota’s heart skipped a beat. There, on the road, something was different. Someone. A person, another living human being, crouching in front of one of the bodies.
Momota didn’t look for a second longer before rushing out the door. He didn't bother trying to make out the person's appearance, what they were doing, or anything of the sort. He didn't have time to confirm anything, he didn't care if he was just seeing things, he couldn't waste this chance–
He ran down the apartment complex’s stairs, around the corner, and the street was already in sight…
Empty.
The street was empty.
As if no one had ever been there.
Had Momota just imagined it after all? Had he finally lost his mind from the loneliness? Was he…
“Sup,” someone lightly pushed Momota’s back, making him jump in surprise and take a few steps forward.
“Nishishi,” the person snickered. “Did I scare ya?”
Momota finally got a good look at them. A short boy wearing dusty white rags and a checkered scarf, with messy dark hair turned bright purple at its ends. His playful sparkling eyes looked right at Momota, waiting for him to respond.
“Well?” he asked with a smirk. “Are you just going to keep staring at me?”
“You’re… alive,” Momota finally managed to speak.
“Yep, thanks for noticing,” the boy rested his hands behind his head, giving the other the most nonchalant grin Momota had ever seen.
“I thought I was the only one.”
“Wow, aren’t you a self-centered one?” the boy raised an eyebrow. “What, did you think you were the chosen one or some dumb shit like that?”
“No, that’s not what I meant–”
“I could leave, you know,” the boy’s voice suddenly contained a harsh note. “If you want to be ‘the only one’. It’s not a problem for me at all.”
No, no, no… Anything but that. Not when he’d finally come across someone in this godforsaken place… “No, wait,” in a panic, he reached forward and grabbed the boy’s hand. “Don’t leave.”
“Hmm?” the other narrowed his eyes, the smirk crawling back onto his face. “And why would I do that? I don’t know you. I don’t care about you. And now you’re grabbing me without my permission, I should probably get away from you as fast as I can, you creep.”
“R-Right, sorry,” Momota stuttered, letting go of his hand. The boy immediately took a step back and stuffed his hands into his pockets.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just leave here right now.”
Momota hesitated. There was no good reason. Momota just didn’t want him to. Momota didn't want to go back to his dead apartment. Momota didn’t want to live out the rest of his life alone. All those reasons were just about Momota, there was nothing for the other party to gain. He’d just assumed that anybody in this situation would’ve been as eager as him to stick with any other survivors, but maybe he’d thought wrong–
The boy sighed. “I guess an extra pair of hands would be useful…” he muttered, as if only to himself, but obviously loud enough for Momota to hear. “If he tagged along, he could help out with all the heavy lifting and stuff…”
Momota perked up. “Yes. That. I can do that.”
“Oh? You don't even know what I'm talking about. You still want to come?”
“I mean…”
He was down with whatever, as long as that meant having another living person by his side…
The boy stepped forward. “Well, do you?”
He just wanted Momota to say it, didn’t he?
“Okay, fine, yes. I want to come with you, wherever that is.”
“Nishishi,” the boy giggled. “Good. Hoped you’d say that.”
“Hoped?”
“Well, yeah,” he put his hands behind his head again. “I was going to make you come with me no matter what you said, but I’d rather it be a voluntary thing, y’know?”
Momota blinked, trying to process how someone so unintimidating would ‘make him come with him’ if he refused.
“Anyway,” he continued, “there’s a gas station a few blocks down,” he pointed in the road’s direction. “Go get us a car, I’ll prepare everything else here in the meantime.”
“A car?” Momota repeated.
“M-hm. We’re leaving the city, ASAP. Make sure there's plenty of room in the back, the more the better…” the boy stopped, suddenly hit by a realization. “You can drive, right?” he gave Momota a judgmental look.
“Ah, y-yeah.”
“Get to it, then.”
Suddenly Momota wasn’t so sure if tagging along with this guy was such a good idea…
“…Could be bigger,” the short boy finally said after staring at the car Momota had parked on the street the two had met on.
“It’s the only one I could get started, take it or go find another one yourself,” Momota replied.
“Nah, this one’ll do,” the other shrugged. “Just don’t expect me to share the backseat with you at night.” He stepped away from the car and walked over to a stack of cardboard boxes that weren’t there when they’d last talked. “Get these loaded and let’s go. We’ve wasted enough time already.”
“Wait,” Momota interrupted. “Aren’t you gonna fill me in on what we’re even doing?”
“No, why would I?” the boy raised an eyebrow. “I’m giving you orders. That should be enough.”
Ohhh no, this wasn’t going to fly.
“Listen here, you lil’ shit,” Momota raised his voice.
“Oh? Well, you recoiled quickly. Weren’t you begging me to take you with me a mere hour ago?”
“I–”
“If you’re not gonna make yourself useful, feel free to go rot away in a ditch somewhere for all I care. Doesn’t bother me in the slightest.”
“I’m expecting to at least know what the fuck I’m doing,” Momota finally got to have his say.
“What you’re doing is getting us out of this shithole, now get to it.”
“Why? What’s the hurry?”
“Well, do you want to stay here?”
“No, but…” Momota hesitated for a moment. “What’s the point? It’s not like any other place would be better.”
The boy sighed. “Just… just do it, would you? I don’t care where, just… not here.” His voice cracked a little.
Shit… The other tried to not let it show, but Momota could tell he’d accidentally struck a nerve…
“…Okay,” he finally gave in. “I’ll go along for now. But don’t expect me to just obey you without question.”
No response. The boy was just standing there, trying not to make eye contact. Momota… didn’t do anything wrong, did he? No, there was no way. He was in the right. He couldn’t let the other just do whatever the fuck he pleased…
Momota picked up the first box. “What’s in these?” he asked, trying to get the conversation going again.
“Things,” the boy replied, clearly not interested in speaking.
Momota sighed and finished putting the boxes into the trunk in silence.
“Get in,” Momota nodded to the passenger’s seat before getting in himself. The boy obliged, still without saying a word.
“Where to?” Momota asked. “I know you said you didn’t care, but still…”
“I already told you, just drive.”
Momota clutched the steering wheel in annoyance. Sure, Momota might have said the wrong thing, but did he have to be so passive aggressive about it? He should have been grateful Momota was there with him in the first place…
Still, he did as he was told and started driving. He threw a glance in the other’s direction; he was leaning against the door with his knees raised to his chest and staring out the window with an uneasy look on his face.
“You haven’t told me your name yet,” Momota said, still trying to somehow soothe the tense atmosphere.
“Neither have you.”
“Momota Kaito. Now your turn.”
“…Ouma,” the boy said after a short pause.
“Just Ouma?”
“It’ll do for now.”