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When the undead first started taking root in society, things were in shambles. For decades, the end of the human race was the only foreseeable future according to laymen and experts alike. A hundred years later, after four-fifths of the human population had been decimated, things were still bleak, but survivability was no longer out of the question.
Being born into a post-apocalyptic world wasn’t too bad, Matsukawa thought. All he needed to do to thrive was follow a few simple rules.
RULE NUMBER ONE: STICK TO YOUR FACTION
At the age of fourteen, Matsukawa could already be trusted to help with patrolling his faction’s territory. Since he was on the younger side, the leaders would have him take charge of the west wing: its barriers were relatively stronger, and it steered him clear of the more populated areas. Densely packed areas meant trouble: if the undead hordes weren’t the problem, the potential conflict with other hungry, self-preserving survivors posed a significant threat as well.
With this in mind, Matsukawa couldn’t help but jump at the sound of a casual, “Hey.”
He whirled around and pointed his dagger at the stranger on the opposite end of the wire fence. A boy about the same age as him, with a terrible pink dye job, stared back. His clothes were disheveled, and various areas of his body were smudged with soot and mud.
“What the hell do you want?” Matsukawa spat out.
“Sugar and flour.”
Matsukawa blinked before lowering his weapon.
“What for?”
The other boy shrugged before replying, “Cake.”
Matsukawa didn’t even realize there were still people who made cakes in this day and age. Even if people did, why was this complete stranger asking for rations from him?
“I don’t even know you.”
The boy grinned. “Right. I’m Hanamaki.”
Matsukawa stared at the boy, who looked as if he expected this interaction to end with him getting everything he requested.
“Well, Hanamaki, I don’t know why I have to do anything for you.”
“Maybe ‘cause it’s my birthday, and I’m the only survivor of a faction of ten that got slaughtered last night.”
Matsukawa stared at the boy in shock.
“Anyway,” Hanamaki continued, “What’s your name?”
Something in him was telling him to walk away and continue his patrol. Despite this, Matsukawa introduced himself.
“The name’s Matsukawa. You should… ugh. Okay, just wait here.”
RULE NUMBER TWO: RATION YOUR RESOURCES WISELY
If Matsukawa were wise, he would have just handed over the sugar and flour and ended the interaction with that.
Hell, if he were even wiser, he would have just ignored Hanamaki’s request completely and reported the incident to his faction’s leaders.
Matsukawa, however, was a young boy with a heart that was too big for the world he was born in. If what Hanamaki said was true, Matsukawa couldn’t just leave him be. At least not for today.
Birthdays and cakes were matters of sentimentality. Sentimentality was something that could get people killed. Matsukawa, however, was feeling a bit too curious and a bit too brave as he snuck out of his territory, following Hanamaki into an abandoned house a few kilometers away.
“This was our second base,” Hanamaki explained as he dumped the flour and sugar onto a dusty counter. “I was restocking stuff here when they were attacked. By the time I got back to our main area, the sounds of the undead were all I could hear, and the smears of blood on the floor were the only things I could bear to look at.”
“I’m sorry,” Matsukawa said.
“Eh, we had it coming,” Hanamaki said. “I’ve been telling them for months that we needed to relocate, given the infected’s new migratory patterns. But what did I know, right? I’m just a kid.”
Matsukawa stayed quiet as he observed Hanamaki whip together a grey-looking sludge of flour, milk, eggs, and sugar. He didn’t offer to help; he had never cooked or baked before. All he ever trained for was combat as he grew up.
Hanamaki didn’t seem to mind working solo, though. He led most of the conversation, saying anything off the top of his head without saying anything of actual importance.
The conversation was light and very much unlike the tense directives Matsukawa was used to hearing on a daily basis.
Matsukawa found himself enjoying Hanamaki’s company very much.
In an hour’s time, a bland-looking cake stood before them on a large, chipped plate.
“I think you made way too much.”
Hanamaki shrugged, “Why’d I need to save on ingredients anymore? It’s not like I need to account for my faction.”
Hanamaki grabbed a fistful of cake and stuffed his face. “Cheers,” he said, his mouth full. “To me and my newfound solitude.”
“You can join my faction,” Matsukawa blurted out.
“Don’t be stupid,” Hanamaki said, without any bite in his tone. “First off, you don’t know me. Second, I don’t know you. And third, you shouldn’t use up your clan’s rations on some nobody.”
“But I’m the reason you got to eat cake!”
“Yeah, that was you being stupid.”
Matsukawa opened his mouth to argue, but when he saw Hanamaki’s wide, cake-stuffed grin, he couldn’t help but smile in return.
RULE NUMBER THREE: AVOID GOING OUT AT NIGHT
The cake incident wasn’t the last time Matsukawa stole provisions from his own faction to give to Hanamaki. He doubted that his leaders noticed that their rations were dwindling at a slightly faster rate than usual. If they did find out, there would be hell to pay. Luckily, feeding one other teenage boy didn’t leave a noticeable enough dent in their food stock.
Matsukawa found himself visiting Hanamaki once or twice a week. Whereas curiosity and concern were what drove him to come back the second and third time, affection and happiness were what kept him returning.
Hanamaki just made him so happy.
He didn’t realize that happiness was a resource that could be so abundant in a world overrun by the undead. Hanamaki just kept proving him wrong over and over again.
He cooked for Matsukawa. He read novels to him. He sang him songs in hushed tones. He talked to him endlessly about the things that interested him: the things Hanamaki loved.
Matsukawa had never quite met anyone with so much love in his heart.
One of the things Hanamaki loved the most was space. He often said that the best way to relax was to look up at the night sky. It took the stars to make him realize that all the pain and suffering on earth were so small in the grand scheme of the universe.
Of course, it wasn’t a good idea to be out at night to stargaze. Still, Hanamaki admitted that he did it anyway.
“Don’t you get scared?” Matsukawa asked.
“It’s pretty frightening sometimes,” Hanamaki replied. “But at one point, when you’re staring at celestial bodies, you let go of that fear and feel comforted instead.”
The closest Matsukawa ever got to stargazing was when he was asked to patrol the west wing during a night of particularly active undead activity. The brightness of the full moon gently illuminated their distant figures, and fear kept Matsukawa’s eyes grounded on the horizon rather than on the skies.
Recently, Hanamaki had been talking a lot about Halley’s Comet. He explained that the opportunity to see it comes only once in a lifetime.
“According to my research, it’s predicted to appear sometime this year.”
“No exact date?”
Hanamaki shrugged, “I don’t think astronomers can precisely tell just yet. But that doesn’t matter. You know why?”
“Why?”
Hanamaki flashed him a toothy grin that spelled nothing but trouble.
“I plan on stargazing every night for the next few months until I finally see it.”
“No, you won’t,” Matsukawa asserted.
“You’re not the boss of me.”
“You shouldn’t even be going out at night unless it’s an emergency!”
“This is an emergency,” Hanamaki said, lifting his hand to his forehead as if he were feeling feverish. “I might die of sadness if I miss out on the comet.”
“Or you might just bump into a horde and die right there.”
“Oh, my dear, sweet, boring Matsukawa. I already scouted a remote hillside location just a few kilometers south of here. It’s far from any human settlements that can attract the attention of the undead. It’s perfect for comet-spotting.”
“I can’t change your mind, can I?”
“Nope!”
Matsukawa studied the other boy’s obstinate expression before replying.
“Then I’m going with you.”
Something in Hanamaki’s face fell. “What do you mean?”
“I’ll be with you every night. You didn’t train in combat, but I did. I’ll keep you safe.”
For once, Hanamaki didn’t have an immediate response.
Matsukawa let out a frustrated groan. “What now?”
“I don’t want you to come.”
“Why not?”
“I want to be alone.”
“Liar.”
“Oh, come on,” Hanamaki said with a roll of his eyes. “Is it so hard to believe that I want to be rid of you sometimes?”
“Tell me the truth, Hanamaki.”
“What truth?”
“You don’t like the idea of putting me in danger, do you?”
Hanamaki glared in silence. Matsukawa sighed before speaking.
“Look, we’ll both be safer if we have each other.”
“But you’d be safer if you didn’t go at all,” Hanamaki muttered.
“So would you!”
“Yeah, but the difference is that you don’t care about this damn comet!”
Hanamaki’s usual composure was lost at this point. His fists were clenched, his face flushed, and his eyes glassy. Matsukawa took a few slow steps towards him. When Hanamaki didn’t back away, Matsukawa took the opportunity to reach out and hold each of Hanamaki’s wrists.
“But I care about you.”
RULE NUMBER FOUR: IN ANY DEADLY SITUATION, PRIORITIZE YOURSELF FIRST
Hanamaki lay a tattered picnic blanket on the grass before lying down on it. He beckoned for Matsukawa to join him.
“I’ll just stand guard.”
“Your giant, looming figure is completely ruining the view.”
Matsukawa sighed and sat on the corner of the blanket. Hanamaki scooted over to him and lay his head on his lap. Instinctively, Matsukawa started carding his fingers through Hanamaki’s hair.
“Wait,” Hanamaki said in a strained voice.
Matsukawa’s hand froze. “Sorry, did I do something wrong?”
“No, it’s just… that’s distracting. Relaxing. I might end up falling asleep.”
“Oh, I’ll just do this if you end up dozing off,” Matsukawa replied before gently flicking at Hanamaki’s forehead.
Hanamaki jolted up to a sitting position, nearly headbutting Matsukawa’s chin. He frowned and flicked his finger at Matsukawa’s forehead with significantly more force.
“What the hell?”
“Self-defense.”
“That’s literally retaliation, not self-defense.”
Hanamaki prepared to flick Matsukawa’s forehead again. “Same difference!”
Matsukawa quickly gripped Hanamaki’s wrist to prevent him from doing any damage. “Nope. This is self-defense, and this—” Matsukawa pushed Hanamaki to the floor, hovering over him and pinning his wrist above his head. “This is retaliation.”
Hanamaki’s frown deepened, but the mirth behind his eyes told a different story.
“The only thing this is, is hot.”
Matsukawa mentally took note of their compromising position before attempting to move away. Before he could back off, Hanamaki wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled him close.
“Hanamaki,” Matsukawa whispered, accidentally gazing at Hanamaki’s lips in an attempt to avoid maintaining eye contact. “What if we miss the comet?”
“It’s not like we know for sure if it’ll appear today.”
“But what if it does?”
“Then fuck it,” Hanamaki said before pulling Matsukawa in for a clumsy kiss.
Before Matsukawa could even begin to process what was happening, a sharp pain spread across his back. The weight of the pain made his body slump limply over Hanamaki.
“Matsukawa!” Hanamaki screamed, just as the loud voice of an older man boomed.
“Matsukawa, you thievin’ bastard.”
Within seconds, the members of Matsukawa’s faction had their weapons drawn at the two boys.
Hanamaki propped himself and Matsukawa up before reaching for the side of Matsukawa’s belt and unsheathing his dagger. He pointed the weapon wildly at the intruders.
“What did you do to him? What do you want from us?”
“It’s just a sleep dart, boy, and you’re in no position to be asking questions,” the older man spoke.
An older woman positioned herself beside him and spoke as well. “State your business with us. Why have you been colluding with Matsukawa to steal our goods?”
“That’s what this is about?!” Hanamaki yelled. “You’re threatening us over some flour and sugar?”
“And other produce and valuable medical supplies.”
Hanamaki glared at the woman. “So what if he shared them with me?”
“Shared? I don’t recall you being a member of our faction. You stole from us.”
“Okay, maybe I did,” Hanamaki said, his voice shrill with panic and fear. From the angle that Matsukawa was slumped against him, he could feel his steady heartbeat. “I forced him to do it. Please don’t harm him. It’s my fault.”
“We’re not barbarians here to kill you both.”
Hanamaki almost relaxed until the man spoke next.
“But we will not take Matsukawa back into our clan. He has betrayed our trust and does not deserve our protection.”
The older woman’s gaze softened. “He is in your care now, as you were in his.”
“Wait, don’t abandon him!”
The faction members turned away and started to descend the hill.
“Stop, please! Don’t leave him! He didn’t do anything wrong!”
Hanamaki embraced Matsukawa’s limp, silent body and wept as he heard the footsteps of their visitors grew fainter and fainter. Surely, after a commotion like that, the noise could have attracted a small horde of the undead.
Hanamaki decided it was time to leave. He did his best to support an unresponsive Matsukawa on his back as he descended the hill with as much haste as he could. He cursed at himself for not having trained to be strong enough to support the body weight of an injured ally. Hanamaki was intelligent and knowledgeable, but none of what he knew mattered in terms of protecting Matsukawa, who had just been shunned by a powerful clan that clothed him, fed him, trained him, and kept him safe.
Hanamaki’s breathing became labored as he journeyed back to his base with Matsukawa. At the halfway point, the telltale groans of the undead obscured what was once the white noise of cicadas and rustling leaves.
The undead moved slowly.
Tonight, however, bearing the full weight of the boy he had grown to love, Hanamaki was slower.
“Why here, why now?” Hanamaki asked himself as tears streamed down his face. “Matsukawa, can you hear me? Are you awake yet?”
No response.
The night progressed at an achingly slow pace. Mindless predators stalked their incapacitated prey. Matsukawa showed no signs of waking.
The horde that had been following them was at a visible distance.
Hanamaki was an intelligent boy. He knew how long it would take them to reach their base at the pace they were moving. He knew approximately how fast the undead were. His conclusion was that they would not be able to make it without being devoured first.
Suddenly, Hanamaki had a realization: the dagger was still in his hand.
He did not have the skills to fight off even this small horde while keeping Matsukawa unscathed.
He did not have the strength to rush them to their base before the undead got to them.
Most significantly, he did not want Matsukawa to experience the pain of having his limbs ripped apart or his flesh torn by filthy teeth.
“I’m sorry, Matsukawa.”
He placed the body of his friend on the floor, as if to prepare him to gaze at the stars. However, Matsukawa’s eyes remained closed.
Hanamaki knelt over him.
“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me,” he said as he slit Matsukawa’s throat.
Hanamaki tossed the dagger aside. Within the next five minutes, the horde caught up with them.
If Matsukawa’s silent corpse could be thankful, he would thank every star in the universe that he did not get to hear the sound of Hanamaki screaming as he was being ripped into pieces.