Chapter Text
The sound of a train is fading in the distance, the sunlight shines through the clouds at noon as a young girl walks along the streets.
She nervously looks around, fixing her black skirt and pink bow before walking off the road and into the grass, a dark wall stands beside her, the other side being the train station.
“I could’ve sworn there were more herbs around here.” The girl mumbles under her breath anxiously, her light blue strands of hair flow in the breeze.
She walks further into the dirt, the tall wet grass shielding her from the world as the morning dew drips from the building beside her.
Crouching down to look at the ground as she begins quietly whispering to herself, “F-Footprints? I thought this was…” Her eyes widen, keeping her voice down as she crawls forward onto the train tracks to look inside the station.
The sounds of weeping can be heard close by, it looks like someone fairly alive rather than an infected person, a green haired girl.
“Are… are you alright?” She moves forward and slowly reaches out with her left hand.
A gasp escapes from the crying girl’s lips, sharply turning her head to face the person reaching out.
“Who are you?” She says to the person in front of her, moving backwards in fear.
Dark blue eyes stare at her with pity in them.
“I’m Makoto, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay…” Makoto’s eyes look down, avoiding eye contact, feeling as if she’s made a mistake.
Makoto sits down on her knees, putting away her previously outstretched hand.
The green haired girl opens her mouth for a moment, seeming almost unsure of what to say in response to the comfort.
“Kumiko.” She wipes her tears, relaxing her shoulders and putting on a blank face, “What are you doing here?” She questioned, looking up to stare at Makoto.
“I’m gathering herbs for my grandpa while he hides at our shelter.” She nervously fixes her skirt, Kumiko notices it seems almost too small for her figure, as if it came thrifted or even stolen from one of the abandoned buildings.
Ignoring Makoto’s previous statement, Kumiko looks at the uniform on her torso, seemingly different in style from her skirt.
“Are you wearing a boys uniform?” She asks bluntly, not realizing the severity of her question.
Makoto gasps quietly, not expecting Kumiko to mention her odd clothing, she begins to fiddle with the tight collar of her uniform.
“I…” The light haired girl swallows for a moment before speaking again, “Um… Yes, I am.” Makoto makes eye contact with her.
“Oh, I see.” Kumiko turns her head away, “I don’t have a problem with that.” She replies, her expression still blank.
Makoto processes it, a soft smile appearing on her face.
She scratches at her neck for a moment, “So…”
Reaching out with her left hand, staring at Kumiko before softly speaking.
“Would you like to be friends?”