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Static, crackling.
A groan.
Clenched fists.
Gravel digging into his cheek. His temple.
More static.
Pain, pain, pain.
… ne. Ru … ne.
He’s breathing.
Ru-er O-
His ears are still ringing from the -
Gunshots.
Static, static.
It stays dark when he opens his eyes.
Runner One.
Kuroo’s voice, rattled by static of the transmitter. It cuts through the haze. Hits something deep, deep inside Daichi. Deeper, stronger than this. With a groan he slowly, slowly pushes himself to lie sideways, arms braced beneath him.
I don’t know if you can hear me. I don’t know if you’re still … alive. Daichi’s numb fingers brush the plastic shell of the transmitter as if it could ease the broken tone of Kuroo’s voice. A reassurance. ‘I’m still here.’
The surveillance doesn’t work so I don’t know whether you - well it’s shitty at night anyways. Kenma keeps raving on about that - if he had the resources to, I’d be watching what’s going on in 1080 HD or somethin’. Haaah … you better still be human. I don’t care for talking to a zombie. Yo, if you’re Runner One’s possessed body - FUCK YOU!
Chuckling in reaction very uncomfortably calls Daichi's attention to where a bullet grazed his side. Fuckin’. Hell. Might as well be holding a torch up to the zombies flooding around. Night time's when the real party starts. And Daichi is wounded smack-dab in the middle of nowhere.
All that he remembers is that he fled north, beyond that – no idea where the fuck he is. Awesome.
Look … it’s been a while now. The zom’s are gonna come crawling. There’s a whole horde comin’ up. Not to be that guy, but once they reach the gates – we won't be able to raise them anymore. Even if you're out there.
Well, cheers. So he'd better run, huh? Try to, anyways.
Wherever you are, Runner One. Please. Run. Run on home. Follow the red light to our gate.
“I'm trying, you asshole,” Daichi groans, because it takes his mind off the pain flaring up. The fatigue. The vertigo threatening to pull him right back down. But somehow, he keeps standing. Finds that red light on the horizon. The transmitter stays quiet, but not for long. Kuroo loves his own voice, that's why he's the guy surveying most of the runs.
Man, I sure hope I'm not talkin' to a zom right now. That'd suck.
“Tch.” Daichi grabs for his handy, battered, most trusted bat. Ammunition runs out, but baseball bats are forever. Or something. He doesn't plan on becoming another of the undead tonight. From the fall to the months right after, through years of surviving to here - finding some sort of peace, of home, of sanity in Abel Township – he'd seen too much, lost too much to give up now.
Not tonight.
Not with Kuroo's voice in his ear.
Daichi, Kuroo sighs, like it's a secret. Granted, Daichi is very rarely more to him than Runner One. It's another magic of the night – the zombie's come out to groan and rampage, and the walls separating Kuroo and him crumble like society had after the outbreak.
How romantic.
Run, just keep running, alright? I'll be here. I won't go anywhere. He says that like there's someone in the room, demanding Kuroo take a break. Usually it would be Daichi to kick him into bed – since Kenma, too, is a candidate to ignore something remotely resembling a sleeping schedule. But tonight, Daichi is grateful for the company. Every other sound around makes him flinch, tighten his hold on the bat.
There's the eerie promise of a growl somewhere in the distance, but still not close enough.
Daichi staggers onwards, and if someone would convince Kuroo to give up his post and go to sleep, it would become one hell of a lot harder to keep moving.
Oh, bite me, Tooru, Kuroo hisses. You sent him on this stupid mission! I knew it was dangerous! 'They're still people, Tetsu-chan!' Yeah, that's why New Canton opens fire on a Runner -
Even through the tinny speakers, Kuroo sounds more livid than Daichi had ever seen him.
Somehow, it makes his heart keep beating. Makes him take step after step after step.
Daichi can hear Oikawa, too, sounding defiant and defeated.
A small part of him is angry Oikawa gets to sit next to Kuroo and argue with him, while Daichi is stuck out here with nothing but Kuroo's voice guiding him home.
It had been Oikawa's idea – helping those people who wanted to get away from the city, join them instead. That New Canton would fall was inevitable, too many people in one place. One person too terrified to report being bitten and it would all be over.
Daichi had wanted to help, that's why he'd volunteered. And what that had gotten him.
With a screech, a zom barrels towards him. Cursing under his breath, Daichi swings. Cracks a skull, then another. A small group, of course. Kuroo is still arguing through the speakers, and Daichi feels so frustrated, he screams. To hell with safety cautions.
He screams until there's nothing moving around him, adrenaline numbing his pain. The transmitter has gone quiet. Everything is quiet – the world around, the darkness. The stars above, untainted by light, an array of lights washed across the firmament. For a moment, Daichi only breathes. In and out, deep, calming. He lowers his bat and begins limping onwards again, towards the red light blinking on the horizon.
Kuroo's voice sounds again, quiet, small.
I won't give up this mic tonight, alright? I need to bring him home.
His voice cracks on the word home, so heavy, filled with so many promises. So many unspoken things.
Daichi drags himself forwards, step after step after step. There are too many things he still needs to tell Kuroo.
It seems Oikawa has finally given up, because Daichi can hear the soft sound of Kuroo sighing, and then nothing. But in his mind, Daichi sees him – hair even more of a mess than usual, rubbing at his eyes. Weary and worn out and hoping, clinging to hope as ferociously as always.
By the time Daichi had made it to Abel, he had long forgotten that feeling – of hope for tomorrow, the wish of something more. The belief that something more was waiting. That in between the next kill, the next ration, the next night, the next heartbeat – that there could be anything beyond survival.
The people in Abel are all idealists, a ragtag family of weirdos, one smarter than the next. All working tirelessly, with devotion and passion, for that something more Daichi had only started to believe in again.
He can't give that up now.
He can't do that to Kuroo, who keeps hope alive with so much force it's enough to keep Daichi's burning, as well.
“Just you wait,” Daichi grits out, narrowing his eyes at the shapes staggering towards him. He raises his bat. “I'm coming home, Kuroo.”
You know what I miss the most? I mean, not the most -
Kuroo's voice returns to Daichi just as he's faltering in his steps, too tired to keep the bat upright. Blood started seeping through his shirt again. His barely-patched wound severely dislikes all the fighting. How long has it been? Is he even closer to the red light at all?
Daichi drops his gaze to his feet, drags them on and on. Concentrates on nothing but Kuroo's voice.
It's hard to pinpoint something that I miss the most. I mean, between ice cream and going to movies and volleyball and – I don't know, animal shelters? Humanity had so much time and space and resources … we could just scoop up homeless cats and dogs, take care of 'em. I liked to help out, and those cats – they were so starved for love, they repaid you tenfold. I miss that. Just hanging with a bunch of cats who love you for showing them some kindness.
Daichi can feel his lips curving into a smile with as much clarity as the throbbing wound at his side, aching with each new step. “You weirdo,” he whispers gently. There's so much love in the way he says it, so much tenderness. He had never let Kuroo hear any of that.
How stupid that seems now.
But, I got off track there, I guess – y'know what I also miss? It was so simple … to ask someone out. I mean, it was a big deal even back then, but – in a different way. A nicer way. Just askin' someone to go watch a movie. Grab some food at a nice restaurant. Kiss 'em at their doorstep. I had some game back then. Man, the zombie apocalypse robbed me of so many opportunities to show my smooth self.
Daichi snorts, a pleasant little sound he hadn't expected. “Yeah, right,” he breathes. Apocalypse or not, Kuroo Tetsurou wouldn't have been smooth, not even in another life. A different world.
Nowadays it's all just … I don't know, keeping each other somehow sane. Is that even love? Most things are … intense and short-lived. Like our lives. Now don't laugh at me, potentially-zombified-Daichi, but I always kinda dreamed of … more. The whole gig. Staying together forever and having a family and waking up to each other. Like, I always thought I'd have that.
Kuroo is trying to mask it, but there's a profound sadness ringing with his words. One that makes Daichi's heart ache, his steps speed up, just a friction. As much speed as he can muster with his dwindling strength and oozing wound and bone-deep exhaustion.
“I'm coming home,” he whispers, roughly.
I mean, I guess … y'know, not like I would've gone the mapped out way. It's funny, how much time I spent angsting about being gay, and what it means, and if people will accept me. Only Kenma knew. Like, if I'd known what'd happen – I wouldn't have wasted being a stupid teenager in a perfect world with keeping secrets and worrying so much. I would've just gone for the dude I had a crush on, given my parents the chance to deal with it. Y'know, sometimes I still wonder what they would've -
“You idiot,” Daichi rasps. Does Kuroo realise Daichi can actually hear him? Why would he tell him all this? Why does he have to sound so choked up, so broken, so sad? Kuroo is always chipper, joking around, has some sort of motivational line ready for the Runners.
This is not the Kuroo Daichi knows.
This is someone Daichi wants to pull close and hold until their heartbeats synch, someone he wants to protect at all costs.
That asshole. He probably knows Daichi will return home without fail, now. There's simply no other option.
I still miss them. It's been so long, but I … and our cat, I miss our cat. She was out when shit started goin' down. I never got to check on her. Like … sometimes I lie awake at night, just wondering what happened to her. Did she become a zombie? I mean, that's probably it. Like every other godforsaken person on this planet except the select few. But sometimes I like to believe she hid well … chases some zom mice. Has a couple of surviving friends. I hope she's happy.
Stupid Kuroo, with his voice so vulnerable, stripped of all his bravado. Bearing his soul to Daichi just like that. Stupid, foolish, incredible Kuroo who made it through all this and came out on the other side still smiling, teasing Kenma, guiding runners, butting heads with Daichi.
Who still thinks of his cat and his parents.
Fuck.
Daichi grips his bat a little more tightly, keeps his eyes on the red light calling him home.
Fuck, what am I saying? Urgh, you're probably super annoyed now. Me babbling on and on about the things I lost … I'm supposed to call you home, not give you the feeling of wanting to lie down and follow everyone else who bit the grass and became a zom.
Daichi flicks the transmitter as if Kuroo could feel how chiding of a gesture it was.
But that's not you at all, is it? I mean, you lost as much as me. I know it. I can see it in your eyes, when you think no one's watching you. Haha, I guess that's another of my secrets – I'm watching you, a lot of the time. Don't be creeped out. There's just something reassuring about the lines of your face. Your smile's like … you are … just beautiful, y'know?. You're scarred all over and you're still out there, running, fighting, collecting. Supporting us. That's … you're beautiful.
“Oh, shut up,” Daichi mutters, feeling embarrassed. What the hell. He stumbles a step, takes a minute to breathe and stand still, but jerks back into motion at the sound of Kuroo's voice, who took a moment to take a breath after all that, but still keeps going, going, going.
It's the only reason Daichi can keep walking.
I lost so many people, Daichi. I don't think I could lose you.
He won't.
He won't.
It terrifies me. Y'know, at least Kenma is so tech savy he's needed inside the walls, and between his duties here and my lack of right foot, we'd only go down if Abel fell, and at least we'd go down together. But you … you're out there everyday. I told myself not to get too attached, 'cause Runners … they always come and go. And now look at me. You're probably dead and I can't stop talking, cause some part of me just hopes you're alive with so much force, like it's the only option.
It is.
The zom horde is closing in, slowly but surely. I don't know how much longer you got. And I still can't give up.
“You better don't, asshole.”
Daichi's whole body is pain, but his mind, his mind is filled with Kuroo's voice.
“Keep talking,” Daichi begs, and Kuroo complies. Stupid, stubborn, hopeful Kuroo.
If you don't make it back I'll give all your CDs to Tooru.
Oh, he wouldn't. Daichi almost growls, but finds he is too tired to. The few CDs he could salvage are his treasure, the only thing Daichi indulges himself in.
No, not him. I'm still pissed at him. I'll just keep them myself. But I'd smash them, 'cause I'd be mad at you, too. For real. Run, Daichi. Run, please. Come home.
'I'm on it' Daichi wants to reply, but he doesn't have any breath left in him. He just keeps on heading towards the red light, towards home. He wants to see the look on Kuroo's face when he limps through the gates, wants to be scooped up in a hug or more, wants to be doted on and reply nothing but a cool and calculated 'Of course I'm back'.
'You didn't doubt me, did you?'
He runs through more things he could say. The transmitter is a little silent, except for Kuroo's breathing.
It feels like walking through a strange world, even different from the one Daichi learned to adapt to, find his footing in. Dawn has touched the sky and sent a sliver of light across it. The blood on Daichi's bat looks odd, strange.
Everything about this feels so wrong and strange. It's probably the blood loss.
Did Daichi ever tell Kuroo about his run-in with the baseball captain of his school? It'd definitely make him laugh. Daichi will tell him, first thing when he's home. Make him laugh and chase away all the melancholy and sadness from his voice.
I'm not gonna lie, Daichi. I'm getting really, like, really fucking tired here. So if you could just hurry up and haul your sweet ass over here, I'd really appreciate it.
“Gladly gonna switch places with you,” Daichi grunts. Spite makes him hurry up, anyways. That asshole. As if Daichi isn't already walking as fast as he can. Running's a little hard with a bullet wound and after single-handedly fighting so many goddamn zoms tonight. Stupid fucking Kuroo.
Daichi wants a hot shower, scrambled eggs, a lot of water, a soft bed, Kuroo's breathing nearby, and maybe to kiss his stupid face off.
And some medical aid. That'd be awesome.
Man, I talked so much tonight. Hope it was worth it. Hope I didn't tell some stupid zombie about my family. If I did, yo asshole, you're at fault for this. But part of me still hopes it's you. Hey, Daichi. Now that I realised that I'm attached anyways and there's no self-protection and if you die my heart will be ripped and torn and so on and so forth – y'know, like, it doesn't really matter anymore. If you come home, we need to talk. I got a lot of stuff to tell ya.
Me, too, Daichi wants to tell him. 'Cause there's so much and no need to tiptoe around it, not when Daichi might die tonight or if he survives, the day after, and they're all clinging to scraps of humanity. Maybe something more has always been waiting and Daichi had been too terrified to grasp it.
We should just make the best of today. And tomorrow. I'm not ready to bite the dust yet, Daichi. This can't be everything. There's gotta be more. Life's worth somethin', why else are we still fighting? God, I'm so tired … I can't imagine how you must feel like. Sure hope you're not bleeding out somewhere out there. Though you'd be less tired than me then.
Daichi wants to tell him Kuroo isn't even funny. But the red light is ahead, and he can't do anything but walk, walk, walk.
Soon.
C'mon, Daichi. Not much longer. Spread some wings if you must. C'mon. Please.
A little more patience would be nice. Daichi raises his bat and tries to wave it, stumbles to his knees, pushes himself back up. Staggers onwards. Fucking shit. He'll pass out any second, and he's so close -
Hey, what's tha- no, NO FUCKING WAY. Kuroo's voice fucking explodes. Daichi staggers again and this time, he can't push himself up immediately. He's so tired.
That's you! You glorious bastard! I can see you kneeling, don't get too comfy now – BASE, I DON'T CARE IF ITS' ASS O'CLOCK! WAKEY WAKEY, SEND A RUNNER OUT THERE OR I'LL HOBBLE OUT THERE MYSELF YOU FUCKERS!
More crackling. It's Oikawa, this time. We got your signature, Runner One. If Kuroo can stop cheering for one second -
- nO CAN DO!
- then I could tell you Six is on his way. Hold out.
Daichi can hear the grin in Kuroo's voice. The zombie horde is close but Six is fast. You'll be safe and sound within the gates in a sec, darling.
Darling now, huh? Urgh, fuck. Who is he to falter now with zombies on the horizon behind? Daichi pushes himself back up again, staggers onwards, somehow. The sirens of the raising gates are a sweet, sweet lullaby. He's never been so happy to hear them.
Yeah, there he goes. I fucking love you, Six!
Runner Six, Iwaizumi, comes barrelling straight at him with speed Daichi could usually match but just feels excessive now. Iwaizumi barely stops, barks a quick apology and throws Daichi over his shoulder like a wet sack of flour. Then they keep running, with Daichi grunting at the pain of it, but he's trying not to pass out still, 'cause he needs to see Kuroo. He really does.
“I can't believe you're alive,” Iwaizumi presses out, words laced with respect.
“Kuroo annoyed me into staying alive.”
“Seems like we all got those people, huh.”
They make it past the gates as gunshots start ringing, and the gate closes. Daichi can see the first zoms right in front, struck down by bullets. That close, huh? He hadn't even realised.
“Thanks,” he groans when Iwaizumi lets him down, more careful this time.
“I should probably get you right to the infirmary, but Kuroo will have a heart attack if he can't get his hands on you and make sure you're breathing.”
“Shut up!” Kuroo barks, his voice ringing clear and true even through the gunfire, the people around shouting commands, the commotion this arrival has caused in the midst of the night. At the very end of night?
And Daichi turns his head, and there he is – looking like utter shit, hair a disaster, bags under his eyes and hand uncharacteristically clumsy with his crutch.
Somewhere Daichi finds the strength to push himself up – well, half of it is Iwaizumi hauling him the rest of the way to his feet – and then Kuroo very much just smacks into him, reeking of sweat and exhaustion, feeling like home. “You made it, you bastard.”
And of all the things Daichi could've told him, all the things he'd put together in his head, what he says is: “It's not the apocalypse's fault that you can't flirt for shit.”
And then he passes right out.
---
When Daichi comes to, the first thing he sees is Kuroo's mob of hair, and it pulls his tired lips into a smile. He reaches out, curls his fingers in Kuroo's hair, who sighs and shifts a little. The idiot should be sleeping in a proper bed, not at the edge of Daichi's. But it's nice, knowing him close by.
“You know,” Oikawa tells him, where he sits at the table filing his nails, pretending he isn't obviously here for Daichi's sake, and must have been exactly as long as Kuroo without sleeping. “You're not much better at flirting than Tetsu-chan.”
That makes him bark a very quiet laugh. “Thanks,” Daichi rasps.
Oikawa looks up at him, eyes genuine and apologetic. “I didn't think it'd be a trap.”
Daichi exhales, closes his eyes. Opens them again. “I'm not holding it against you. You had hope, I can admire that. You wanted to help, and I did, too.”
“Tetsu-chan thinks we should've known.”
“Well, Tetsu-chan can bite me.”
“I heard that,” Kuroo mumbles against the sheets and barely stirs beyond that, but he makes a pleased noise when Daichi runs his fingers across his scalp. What a fool. The fondness Daichi feels is so warm and all-encompassing it feels like his chest is glowing. Man, they must have really hit him with the good stuff, pain killer wise.
And still, it's the drugged up, half dead person with the glowing chest who needs to be the voice of reason in the room. “Go back to sleep, Kuroo. You, go get some sleep at all, Oikawa. And I'll pass out, too.”
“Sounds like everyone's happy,” Oikawa mutters as he stands up, and Daichi closes his eyes and exhales in relief. The tension left Oikawa's voice – maybe, for tonight, everyone is actually happy. What a nice thought.
“Yeah,” he rasps, eyes still closed. Someone was kind enough to pull the blinds shut, keep the daylight and most of the bustle out of the small room. For now, all that's waiting is sleep and rest.
They got tomorrow for everything else, and the day after. Maybe a couple days after that. Or weeks, or years. Why not dream big?
Right now, Daichi got his medical aid, water, Kuroo's breathing nearby.
That means he can get his scrambled eggs, hot shower and kisses in the morning.
What a life worth fighting for indeed. Every painful second of it.