Chapter Text
A young man stood with his back flat against an old, crumbling wall. He was barely 20, with dark brown messy hair and a 5 o'clock shadow present upon his jaw.
A lumbering figure was making its way toward him, and he found himself reaching into his pocket. His hand slowly closed around the grip of the dagger hidden there and he unconsciously swallowed nervously, gritting his teeth as he withdrew the blade.
The creature came into view past the wall, and he had to stop himself from retching at the sight and smell of the monster.
Silently, he lurched forward and drove the dagger stiffly into its rotting head. A bead of sweat fell down his cheek as he drew the knife out and stabbed it quickly in again, grimacing at the spray of blood that covered his arms.
He inhaled deeply, grateful the walker had been alone. He doubted he could take on many with merely his dagger; he'd never used a gun before, after all. Perhaps he should ask Kudo to teach him, when they had enough guns to go around.
Pushing the weapon back into the confines of its sheath, he quickly surveyed his surroundings. Once he was certain he was reasonably safe, he let out a deep breath and slipped out of the building.
He'd been lucky enough to scavenge some canned food— nothing exquisite, mostly beans. Honestly, he was terribly tired of eating beans. No matter how great at cooking the girls might be, with little to no electricity or supplies there wasn't much to be done.
Most of the houses nearby their hideout had already been stripped clean, or else were absolutely infested and thus almost impossible to get into alive. He wasn't about to risk his life for a few cans, even if it stopped them going hungry for a day or two.
He just wished he'd found more weapons. Kudo had a gun, at least; one of the only weapons he knew how to use aside from soccer balls, and he didn't imagine trying to decapitate a zombie with a soccer ball would prove all too useful. Whilst his dagger was proving useful enough, using a short-bladed weapon felt awkward. Kendo had been more his forte, and thus long weapons just felt far more comfortable. If he could only find a sword...
Well, he would just have to hope the other boy had been more successful than he had.
Really, they had been lucky, he supposed. At the time of the outbreak, Kudo and Ran had been visiting in Osaka. He didn't really want to imagine just how messed up Tokyo was. Ran had wanted to go back to Tokyo, to save her friends and family, to bring them to Osaka. But it just wasn't possible. They didn't have cars, and Kudo's morals wouldn't allow them to steal one. While Heiji had a motorcycle, they highly doubted it would be effective against the masses of zombies in Tokyo.
She'd broken down for a week, after that. She wouldn't speak to anyone, not even Kazuha, no matter how hard they had tried. Eventually, she had accepted it and demanded they let her go out on raids. He'd been surprised when Kudo allowed it— well, after teaching her how to use a gun.
As he neared the fort, he knocked on the makeshift gate with the back of his hand. "Yo. Lemme in."
Kudo opened the gate for him and frowned as he spotted the few cans. "Well, it's better than nothing." He said dejectedly, letting him in and closing the gate.
"Heiji!"
He froze at the shrill voice and turned to it's direction. Kazuha swiftly walked over to him, determination set on her face. "Hey," he murmured, waiting for the rant that he knew was sure to follow.
She crossed her arms, frowning. "Heiji, let me go out on raids. We need all the help we can get!"
"No." He furrowed his brow and glared down at her before making his way to the table Kudo had spread his own findings upon. He placed the cans down, sighing. Kudo had found bottled water, and, of course, canned beans.
He heard a tap tap tap before Kazuha grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him back to look at her. "And why not? Ran-chan goes out, so don't ya dare give me some spiel about protecting the women!"
"Ya don't even know how to use weapons!" Heiji snapped, once again unable to maintain his cool. "Sure, yer trained in aikido, but good damn luck using that against a zombie!"
"I could use a knife!"
"Could ya?" He loomed over her, his eyes narrowed. "Could ya really stab someone? They still look human, ya know. Rotting, yes, but they are— were— human."
Kazuha faltered for a moment. "I..." She paused before looking up at him again with a renewed fire burning in her eyes. "I could."
"Let her, Hattori." Kudo walked up to them with Ran trailing behind him. "She's right. We all need to be going out there. Sooner or later, she'll be face to face with one of them. Kill or be killed."
Heiji shot him a glare.
"I can take her out," Ran offered. "I was planning to look for supplies tomorrow, anyway."
"… Fine. Kudo 'n' I will defend the camp, I guess. Maybe try and get the generator workin'." He didn't like this one bit.
Heiji could hardly sleep that night. Every time he drifted off, he had nightmares of Kazuha coming back bitten— or worse.
Groaning, he sat up in his bed and pressed his fingers to his temple. "Goddammit," he grumbled, looking across the room where Kazuha was fast asleep on her own bed. How did Kudo handle the stress of it? Letting his childhood friend out into the mess the world had become... Sure, the women were scary, but unfortunately fear didn't apply to the undead.
Pulling back the covers, he silently ambled over to her. She looked so peaceful, too peaceful. He wanted to shelter the remaining innocence she clung to, and yet she herself wouldn't allow it. He couldn't understand why she would want to go out there.
Kneeling down, he gently brushed her bangs away from her eyes. "Please," he whispered, "be safe tomorrow."
Heiji stood back up and slowly exited the room, dragging himself outside. Dawn was breaking. Throwing himself down in a fold-up chair, he stared silently up at the sky.
"Nice night."
Heiji flinched and whipped around to see Kudo standing there, hands up in defense. "It's just me," he laughed quietly, pulling a chair up beside Heiji.
"Is this how ya imagined the world would end?" Heiji asked gruffly.
"The zombies were a surprise," Kudo replied, leaning back in his chair. "Never actually believed in them."
"Neither." Heiji paused for a moment before scowling at the other man. "Screw ya, by the way."
"Oh?"
"About Kazuha," he muttered, "I can't believe ya agree she should be out there."
"We do need the help." Kudo reminded him, shrugging. "Besides, you know she'll break out and go on her own if you don't let her."
Heiji grunted irritably, determined not to admit the former detective was right. Not like he needs anything more to stoke his ego, Heiji thought bitterly.
They sat in mutual silence for a long while before the girls got up.
"Mornin'," Kazuha yawned sleepily, stretching up lazily. Heiji stared at her in silence, looking fiercely away as she set her sight on him.
"Morning," he finally replied flatly, refusing to look at her.
She gave a deep sigh and walked over to him, giving Kudo a short glance. Immediately, Kudo stood up, murmuring something about checking on Ran and quickly left the other two alone.
"Are ya still mad?"
"Mad's not the right word." Heiji replied, exasperated. "I can't believe ya!" He rounded on her, creases beyond his age lining his forehead.
Her hands found her hips. "What did ya expect?!" She growled, bending down before him and jutting her head out until their noses were almost touching. "Every day ya go out, and I'm expected to just sit around and pray y'all come back!"
Heiji gritted his teeth. "So ya think it's better to risk yer damn life?!" It was a losing argument, he knew.
"Ya couldn't expect to shield me forever!" She drew back and shook her head at him, about to walk off to find Ran.
"Oi, wait." Heiji caught her by the arm, causing her to turn and look at him. He hesitantly pulled his dagger from his pocket, handing it to her. "Take it. 'S probably better than the other weapons we've got." Except the guns, of course, but ammo was limited and Kazuha didn't know how to aim.
She paused before nodding and taking it.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!"
Heiji paced back and forth along the walls of their refuge, anxiously casting a glance at the gate every time he heard a slight noise.
"Calm down, Hattori. They haven't been gone that long." Kudo snorted from behind him.
"It's been three hours!" Heiji hissed, shoving his hands in his pockets. "They should be back by now! I should go look for them," he made for the gate, but Kudo blocked him.
"You should not." Shinichi argued. "You gave Kazuha your dagger, remember? What are you going to do? Punch the zombies?"
Heiji muttered a few choice curses before hanging his head in defeat. "I'll kill ya myself if she doesn't come back."
Kudo smirked, noticing he didn't bother correcting 'she' to 'they'. "If they don't come back, it'd be more of an assisted suicide. Less jail-time for that."
"Ya mean no jail-time," Heiji corrected, "even if we got rescued, ain't like they'd lock me up for killing someone in the apocalypse."
"Point." Kudo laughed.
It was a strange time, indeed, when two detectives could laugh about murder without consequence.
"Now, get over here and help me. I can't get this thing working for the life of me." Heiji obediently turned and knelt down beside Kudo, stifling a laugh as the once-great detective of the East fumbled with the generator, his hands covered with grease despite the minimal progress he had made.
"Here," Heiji elbowed Kudo in the side, knocking him away. "I'll do it." He was more experienced in this sort of thing, anyway. He'd had to deal with issues with his motorcycle multiple times; he was no mechanic, of course, but he knew a fair deal.
Besides, he'd used generators before. Fixed them a few times when the power had gone out, since Kazuha wasn't too fond of being in the dark. Part of why they shared a room was to make her feel more comfortable. The other part, although he'd never admit it, was because he felt better being able to wake up and see her still safely asleep— a welcomed contrast to his nightmares.
Kudo shrugged. "Alright, I'll check the perimeter. If you hadn't done enough of that with your pacing," he chuckled, walking away before Heiji could make a snarky comment back.
… So maybe this generator was more irritating than he'd thought. Maybe, just maybe, he was understanding why Kudo was getting nowhere with it. At least it was taking his mind off the girls, though.
"Oh, c'mon! Ya should be working!" He slammed the panel shut, stood up angrily and kicked it.
He yelped in shock at the thrum that suddenly sounded from the generator, and blinked meekly down at it.
Kudo stood a few feet away, stunned. "Well, what do you know?" He spoke after a moment. "Your temper was actually good for something."
Heiji was tempted to throw the generator at him.
"Sh-Shinichi?" A nervous, shaky voice called out from the other side of the gate, snapping them out of their pre-bickering. Heiji opened the gate before Kudo even had time to respond to the voice.
Ran stepped in, pulling a silent Kazuha behind her. Kazuha was covered in blood, shaking slightly as she trailed behind the other woman.
"Ran," Kudo murmured, pulling her into a hug. "What happened?"
Ran gave a weak smile at the gesture before gently pulling back. She cast a nervous glance to Kazuha. "We... met another survivor."
Heiji's eyes flashed dangerously as he took in Ran's words. "What happened?" He demanded. "Why are ya covered in blood, Kazuha? Did they hurt ya?" He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her slightly, masking his worry with anger. If she'd been hurt— if that was her blood— whoever did this to her would be sorry.
"Heiji..." Her eyes were dull as she shivered, pulling the dagger from her pocket and dropping it to the ground beside her. Shinichi flinched visibly at the implication, but Heiji didn't quite understand why. Had a walker killed the survivor?
He looked down at the weapon and froze as he noticed the amount of blood on it. So she'd had her first kill. "Kazuha... it's okay, they're not human."
"Ya don't understand," Kazuha sobbed, wincing as she looked down at her bloodstained hands. "I didn't kill one of them... I killed a man." She tightly shut her eyes, silent tears falling down her face. She fell to her knees, covering her face with her hands.
Heiji kneeled down in front of her. "What happened?" He asked softly, gently trying to pry her arms away, but to no avail.
"He... he threatened to kill Ran-chan..." Kazuha whispered, rubbing at her eyes. "I managed to surprise him and struggled with him... b-but... then I..." She choked out a sob, unable to finish her sentence.
Heiji wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him, stroking her back gently. "It's okay," he whispered gently. "Ya did what ya had to." He ran a hand through her hair— it still felt strange to see it cascading down her back. She hadn't tied it up for a long time.
"I'm a murderer," she cried, fisting her hands in his shirt. He started, sighing and tightening his grip on her.
"We all are."
"Do ya think the world will ever go back to normal?" Kazuha asked, sitting on the side of her bed as she absently swung her legs. Usually, by this time she would be fast asleep, but since they finally had some electricity she had decided to stay up a bit later.
"Dunno," Heiji replied, "at first, I thought so. Now, I'm not so sure..." He trailed off as he spoke, shrugging his shirt off. It had become a habit to sleep shirtless. He didn't have much in the way of clean clothes— kept his bed at least somewhat clean. Wasn't like they often got to shower frequently, either. Showering was a rare luxury.
"H-Heiji?!"
Oh, right. Kazuha normally went to bed before him, and he generally woke up before her. She hadn't known of his habit.
Heiji turned around, smirking at the faint blush on her cheeks. "What?" He asked innocently, "I always sleep like this. It's not like ya haven't seen me shirtless before."
He climbed onto her bed, playfully pushing her over. "I'm not gonna do nothin', don't worry," he chuckled at her bashful expression and made to stand back up, but was stopped by a hand on his wrist.
She opened her mouth as if to speak before shutting it again. "Kazuha? What is it?" Heiji implored, sitting back down and leaning toward her.
"Heiji..." She paused again, green eyes not quite meeting his. "Have ya... had to kill anyone?"
Heiji sighed. He didn't want to go into this; he didn't want to make her feel worse. But he also couldn't lie to her.
"… No," he admitted, "not a human, anyway."
There it was. That regretful, sorrowful expression. He wished he knew how to comfort her.
"Ya saved neechan, though." Heiji tried to remind her, his tone gentler than any she had heard from him before. She curled into herself, brows creased.
"I know," she breathed out, shuddering. "But taking someone's life..."
"… Kazuha..."
Heiji stood up and purposefully walked to one of his bags, opened a zip and pulled something from the pocket. He glanced back to see her sitting upright, looking over at him curiously.
"Close yer eyes."
She frowned but obliged. He stepped toward her, climbing onto the bed behind her. He gently combed through her hair with his fingers, carefully pulling it up and tying it with the object he had grabbed from his bag.
"Ya can open them now," he smiled. She blinked her eyes open, reaching a hand up.
"It's a ribbon..." She looked at him, confused, before standing up. She slowly walked toward the wardrobe, opening the door and gazing into the mirror on the other side. A small smile lit up her face as she looked at the pale pink ribbon adorning her hair.
She turned back and embraced Heiji in a tight hug. "Thank ya," she whispered, burying her face in his shoulder.
"No worries," he grinned. He liked her best with her hair tied up; it was a lovely reminder of old days. It wasn't fair to think those days were forever lost to them. "We should probably get some sleep, though."
"Stay with me?" Kazuha asked, a dusting of pink on her cheeks that perfectly matched the ribbon. "N-not like..."
"It's fine, I know what ya mean," Heiji smirked, "sure."
Heiji turned the light out and climbed into her bed, his chest pressed up against her back. He wrapped one arm around her waist, and she let out an indignant squeak as he pulled her closer. He knew he was being too protective, too possessive, for someone who was merely a childhood friend.
But for just one night, just one, he wanted her safe in his arms. For just one night, he would protect her from her haunting memories.
For just one night, he would sleep peacefully.