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Wind blew through the empty streets of Tokyo, tossing up leaves and sending pieces of trash skidding across the sidewalk. Crouched behind a broken-down car, Gojo watched as a piece of scrap metal shifted with the wind, scraping along the concrete. The sound was almost deafening in the otherwise silent city. Gojo held his breath and counted; one, two, three, fo—
From the shadows of a nearby alley, a silka deer flew out, mouth open and canines glistening in the sunlight. With lightning-fast speed, the deer lunged at the scrap metal, its fangs tearing it apart. Blood dripped from its mouth as the metal tore apart its tongue and gums. The deer appeared completely unfazed, even as bits of its tongue oozed out. Dropping the scrap, it gave its head a little shake before stumbling into the road on broken legs.
Gojo crouched a little lower, keeping his body hidden behind the car—a force of habit. It wasn't the creature's sight that he had to worry about. Like all the others, the deer's eyes were glazed over, unseeing of the world around it. They no longer relied on sight, but rather smell and sound to hunt their prey.
Reaching into his pocket, Gojo pulled out a rock. It had a decent amount of weight to it as Gojo gave it a little toss. He scanned the cars past the deer, his eyes landing on an old truck that looked to be in good enough condition. As quietly as he could, Gojo got into position before hurling the rock as hard as he could. It sailed past the deer and struck the truck's back window.
Gojo grinned as the alarm blared.
The deer whipped around, not hesitating for a second before charging the truck. It threw its entire body at the truck, shattering the back window. From inside a nearby convenience store, two more creatures flew out like a couple of bats out of hell. They ravaged the truck, desperate to find a way inside—to get to the noise. Gojo couldn't make out what they were, or rather, what they had once been. He didn't have the luxury of wasting time trying to figure it out.
While they were distracted, Gojo crept his way toward the convenience store. Stepping inside, Gojo carefully made his way over broken glass. He froze when a misstep caused a piece to crunch beneath his foot. Glancing over his shoulder, Gojo watched as the creatures tore their way into the truck, unaware of his presence. He held his breath as he made it past the last few bits of glass.
The shelves were almost empty, the small store having been ransacked long ago. Still, Gojo couldn't afford not to check. What little rations he managed to scrounge up last time were running dangerously low. If he didn't find food soon, he risked starving to death long before the creatures got him. One by one, Gojo moved through the aisles like a ghost, picking up a few stray cans and squirreling them away in his backpack. He got excited, thinking he'd found a candy bar before reality hit—it was nothing more than one of those disgusting protein bars.
What Gojo wouldn't give for a proper sweet.
He doesn't know how or why it started—whether it was some freak mutation of nature or a man-made nightmare—but it was only a little over two years ago that the world went to shit. Authorities initially thought it was a unique strain of rabies, but the animals didn't just go crazy; they mutated.
A deer once felled by a hard strike of a car now twisted and dragged itself back to its feet, running and hunting people down with the aggression and determination of a honey badger. Dogs, once man's best friend, turned into little gremlins from hell, their bodies mangy and jaws unhinged like snakes to take in more of their prey. One was capable of tearing a grown man to shreds in a matter of seconds, the result putting a wood-chipper to shame. Still, it was better than the slow, agonizing death of being eaten alive from the inside out by a demented weasel.
However, the worst of them all were the birds.
They were notoriously good at blending in, waiting for the right moment to strike. When they did, it was never just one. They'd attack in swarms, taking down huge crowds of people as they desperately tried to run for cover. If Gojo had to guess, the majority of the human population within Tokyo had been taken out by those little fuckers. Thankfully, most of the birds left once the population dwindled to nothing.
Those like Gojo—those still alive—were left struggling to survive, hoping to make it another day.
Shaking the thought from his head, Gojo was about to check the last aisle when a faint thud caught his attention. It sounded like it came from the back of the store. He stood perfectly still, listening. No other noise followed, prompting Gojo to unsheathe his nihontō. It was relatively new, as Gojo had found it in a shop only about a month ago. He'd been lucky enough not to have used it yet, but if his gut feeling was correct, that could very well change.
Cautiously, Gojo made his way over to where he'd heard the sound. He stopped in front of a door labeled Employees Only, his eyes instantly drawn to blood smears on the floor. They started near the freezer doors, where there was a lot more blood. The heavy and erratic splatter marks indicated an attack, likely by one of those creatures. The blood looked fresh, meaning Gojo may very well have inadvertently saved whoever it belonged to. Whether that was a good thing or not, he wasn't sure.
Gojo took a deep breath before slowly pushing the door open. It led to a storage room, with a few mostly empty shelves and boxes scattered all around. Gojo propped the door open before stepping further inside. There was a door across the room, wide open, leading straight out of the store into the back alley. Human or creature, Gojo didn't like the looks of it. He scanned the rest of the room before glancing back at the trail of blood. Rather than leading outside, it led behind a small stack of boxes to Gojo's left.
That confirmed it then; it was a human he was dealing with.
Creatures didn't hide or run off to lick their wounds; they kept moving—kept hunting until their bodies broke down. Even then, Gojo would occasionally have the misfortune of running across a pile of mostly-decayed flesh with snapping jaws and claws grasping at air. He learned that not even those were safe. Should their vocal cords remain intact, all it took was one noise for them to start screaming or howling in rage.
Shit, Gojo thought. No turning back, now.
Sword at the ready, Gojo gave it a wide berth as he rounded the pile of boxes. The second he laid eyes on what sat hidden behind them, Gojo got the wind knocked out of him. Clutching a kitchen knife in one hand and a plush toy in the other was a little boy. If Gojo had to guess, he'd say the boy was no older than five—maybe six years old. He was so young—younger than any survivor Gojo had seen in the last two years.
Gojo couldn't help but glance back at the open door. It didn't feel like a trap, but Gojo found it hard to believe that a kid so young could have survived that long on his own. A small part of him couldn't help but wonder if he'd been left behind during the chaos. His left leg looked pretty mangled, making him a liability, and with the car alarm keeping those things distracted, whoever he was with would have had the perfect opportunity to slip away, leaving the kid for dead.
Gojo scowled at the thought, something that didn't go unnoticed by the boy, who clutched that plushie of his to his chest. Realizing how terrifying he must look, Gojo sheathed his sword before crouching to the boy's level. Rather than relaxing, the boy clutched his plushie tighter and raised his knife at Gojo. He was doing his best to put on a brave face, but Gojo could see the way his hand shook—how his knuckles turned white from just how hard he was clinging on.
The blade was covered in fresh blood.
Killing one of those creatures was exceptionally hard, not to mention risky. Even if you managed to take one down, the sounds and smells were sure to attract any other creature lurking nearby. It was why Gojo preferred using misdirection and underhand tactics to keep them off his tail. Once you got the hang of it, they were relatively easy to handle. Humans, on the other hand, were a whole other nightmare, which made it understandable why the kid didn't trust him.
At least the creatures were clear in their intent. Humans were tricky, conniving bastards capable of doing much worse. Within the first year, Gojo had learned the hard way not to trust strangers—to ignore cries for help. More often than not, they were traps. Everyone was fighting to survive in a world with ever-dwindling supplies. People became desperate, willing to do whatever was necessary to get what they needed.
The people Gojo killed had been nothing more than self-defense, a last resort when all his other options had been spent. After what happened to Suguru—Gojo couldn't imagine so selfishly taking another human's life, least of all a kid's. A funny thing, really, as Gojo had never really been all that fond of kids. With the way the world was, however, Gojo couldn't help the way his heart ached for the boy.
"Hey—" Gojo kept his voice low even as the alarm continued to blare outside. Who knew how many more of those fucker had been attracted by the noise. "—my name's Satoru. What's your name, Kiddo?"
"Fushiguro."
Gojo hadn't expected to receive an answer, much less so fast, which was why he couldn't stop himself from smiling. "Fushiguro, huh? You have a first name, Fushiguro?"
The boy, Fushiguro, hesitated, his brows furrowing. "Megumi."
"Megumi—what a cute name."
"It's not cute!" Megumi scowled.
That in itself was even cuter, but Gojo kept his mouth shut. He didn't want to rile Megumi up anymore than he already had. Sure, the world they were in was fucked to hell and back, but at the end of the day, he was still just a kid, and as already proven, kids got loud when they were upset.
"Alright, alright; keep your voice down, will you."
Megumi blinked slowly before recognition shined in his eyes. He tore his gaze away from Gojo for a second to peek at the door behind him. Thankfully, Megumi hadn't been loud enough to draw any attention their way, but they needed to be careful. Gojo could no longer hear the car alarm, which meant those three were now roaming around once again in search of food. They hadn't been that far down the road.
Gojo took another look at Megumi's leg. It was hard to see just how bad it was with all the blood, but one thing was for sure—the kid needed antibiotics, stitches, and, if possible, some painkillers. All Gojo had on him was a roll of gauze and some Baramycin ointment. He might have passed by a pharmacy on the way there. It had likely been ransacked as well, but it wouldn't hurt to check the place out.
First order of business, however, was doing what he could to mitigate the bleeding.
To do that, Gojo needed to earn the kid's trust—that, or get him to let his guard down. Swinging his backpack off, Gojo pulled out the roll of gauze, as well as the protein bar he found earlier. He was banking on Megumi being hungry enough to accept his offering, and considering he had no bag in sight, Gojo would bet he stood a good chance. The way Megumi's eyes snapped to the bar confirmed it.
"Let's make a deal: you let me bandage up that leg of yours without stabbing me, and I'll give you this—free of charge." Gojo held the bar out. "Sound good?"
Megumi looked between Gojo and the protein bar, his brows furrowing all cute-like. It took a little bit of patience before Megumi hesitantly lowered the knife, putting it down beside him. Not once did he consider letting go of that plushie of his. It was a white wolf—well, it used to be white. The fur was discolored, with faint bloodstains on its lower half. They looked old.
When Megumi continued to hesitate, Gojo gave the bar a little shake. Finally, the kid took it, snatching it out of Gojo's hands before he could take back the offer—not that Gojo had any intention of doing so. Gojo waited, watching as Megumi struggled to open the bar while still keeping his hold on the plushie.
"A friend of yours?"
Megumi nodded as he finally got the bar open and took a bite. As gently as he could, Gojo grabbed and lifted Megumi's pant leg out of the way, shooting the kid an apologetic smile when he let out a pained whimper. Gojo had to give it to him, Megumi was doing a good job staying quiet. With one obstacle out of his way, Gojo caught a glimpse of just how bad it was. That Megumi wasn't outright bawling his eyes out spoke volumes about how tough a kid he was.
"Does he have a name?" Gojo asked as he unrolled the gauze and got to work, wrapping up the wound as best he could. He might as well have been slapping a Bandoeido on the damn thing, but if it could buy them more time, then so be it.
"She," Megumi corrected with a wince. "Her name's Shiro. Tsumiki gave her to me."
"Tsumiki? Is that your mother?"
"Sister."
"Sister, huh. Is she—" Gojo didn't bother finishing the question. Megumi's misty eyes and quivering bottom lip were answer enough. "Sorry, Kiddo."
"It's okay…"
They both knew it wasn't—not even close—but Gojo wasn't about to say that out loud. Whatever the kid needed to tell himself. Instead, Gojo focused on bandaging Megumi's wound while the kid nibbled on the bar. Blood had already started leaking through by the time Gojo was done. Getting an infection would be the least of their concerns if they couldn't stitch the wounds up and stop the bleeding.
"Am I going to turn into one of those things?"
Gojo paused, his eyes darting up to meet Megumi's. The poor kid looked more scared of the possibility than he did of Gojo. Not that Gojo could blame him. They'd all seen the movies and TV shows about zombies and infections. Once bitten, a person would eventually become infected themselves. Truth be told, Gojo didn't really know shit about whatever was afflicting the animals—no more than he could wager based on personal experience. However—
"No, you won't," Gojo said firmly. "I've never seen a human infected by whatever this is; have you? Besides—" Gojo smiled as he rolled up his left sleeve. Covering his entire upper arm were scars, some fresher than others. "—if that were going to happen, I think I would have turned by now."
From the look on Megumi's face, that seemed to have relieved some of his fears. Gojo was glad he could do so, as he was no stranger to living through that very same fear. The first time Gojo got bitten, he completely freaked. None of them had been bitten before that, nor had they encountered anyone who had. For Gojo, it wasn't just the fear of turning, but also the fear of what would happen to Shoko and Suguru when he did. When he thought about running away, Suguru had been the one to calm him down.
"Did it hurt?"
Gojo chuckled. "You're damn right it hurt, but I'm pretty brave—just like you—so I didn't cry much."
"But you did cry." Megumi frowned. "That doesn't sound very brave."
"Why you little—" Gojo huffed as he reached out and ruffled Megumi's hair. "There's nothing wrong with crying when you're in pain. Maybe you should try it some time."
Megumi scowled as he swatted Gojo's hand away.
"Anyways, I need to find some proper supplies, or that leg of yours is going to get infected," Gojo explained as he glanced toward the back door. He hadn't heard anything yet, which was good. "I saw a pharmacy a little ways back. I'm gonna go see what I can find. You need to stay here and stay quiet until I get back."
As much as Gojo hated leaving the kid behind, bringing him along would be too risky. With the three creatures roaming around, Gojo needed to be able to react at a moment's notice, something that would be hard to do if he was carrying Megumi. That didn't even account for all the blood Megumi was losing. The creatures' sense of smell was heightened, and walking around with fresh blood was the equivalent of dumping chum into shark-infested waters.
If anything, leaving Megumi there would be safer for him. Although—
Glancing around the room, Gojo's eyes landed on a few bottles of bleach on one of the racks. Gojo stood, his knees popping a little, and retrieved a couple of bottles. Megumi watched as Gojo crept toward the door leading back into the store. Peaking around the doorframe, Gojo spotted what looked to be a fucked-up tanuki sniffing around outside the front of the store. Its spine was protruding from its body, creating an almost fin-like appearance along its back. The fresh blood on its face told Gojo that it had been the one that attacked Megumi.
As quietly as he could, Gojo popped open the cap on one of the bleach bottles and poured it all around the door. Taking the second bottle, Gojo poured it over the blood trail leading toward where Megumi sat. He stopped a few meters away when Megumi scrunched up his nose. Grabbing a third bottle off the rack, Gojo poured that one out around the back door leading to the alley.
While he couldn't completely mask the smell of blood, Gojo had learned that strong chemical smells worked, to a degree, as a deterrent. Bleach was especially unpleasant to them, as Gojo had seen a few gag at the smell. So long as Megumi stayed where he was, the bleach should keep most of the creatures from getting close enough to realize he was there. Grabbing one final bottle, Gojo put it in his pack before turning his attention back to Megumi.
"Remember what I said; stay here and stay quiet. I'll be right back."
Megumi didn't look at all convinced. Assuming Gojo was right, the kid may very well have been abandoned once already. Besides, they didn't know each other, not really. What reason did he have to trust Gojo's word? That's when Gojo got a brilliant idea. Grinning, Gojo crouched in front of Megumi and held out his pinky.
"I'll come back for you, I promise."
"That doesn't mean anything," Megumi huffed.
"Maybe to you it doesn't, but to me, a pinky promise is as serious as it gets."
Megumi didn't look any more convinced, but to Gojo's delight, he reached out and intertwined their pinkies. With that, Gojo set out to search the pharmacy, throwing Megumi one final reassurance before he disappeared into the alley.
- - -
Megumi's stomach dropped as he watched Satoru leave. He may have been six, but Megumi wasn't stupid. He knew Satoru wasn't coming back for him. Why would he? Megumi's own father had abandoned him and Tsumiki the second things got bad—calling them a pair of dead weights. Deep down, Megumi knew he was right. He couldn't even handle a tanuki on his own. Had Satoru not shown up when he did, Megumi would have certainly died to the thing.
There was still a chance he could if it came back to finish the job.
Although he didn't hear anything, Megumi knew it was still around and kept looking at the back door, waiting for it to come walking in any second. Megumi scrunched his nose up as the smell of bleach wafted through the air, stinging his eyes. It smelled horrible. He didn't understand what Satoru was trying to do. Did he think that bleach would hurt them? Megumi didn't think anything truly hurt them.
He had stabbed the tanuki right in the head, and it still didn't die. All that did was make it let go of his leg and bought him enough time to crawl away before that car alarm drew its attention. Megumi wondered if it was Satoru who had set off the alarm. It made the most sense. Megumi had only seen an animal set off an alarm once, when it ran face-first into a parked car after hearing another one scratch the hood. It didn't seem like they could tell the difference between noises they created and those made by humans.
Megumi wasn't sure how long he waited there, his eyes never leaving the open doorway. He was starting to get tired, which wasn't good. Despite Satoru having bandaged up his leg, Megumi could see fresh blood dripping out from underneath. He knew enough about wound care to know that if he didn't get the bandages changed, it was sure to get infected. If that happened, there wasn't anything Megumi could do.
A faint noise came from the front of the store, and Megumi quickly grabbed his kitchen knife, wincing when the blade scraped the floor. It was already hard enough to fight off one of those things. Megumi didn't know if he could actually do anything with his leg all messed up. He couldn't even move it without being in excruciating pain. It burned unbelievably hot, and Megumi desperately blinked back tears.
He didn't care what Satoru had said—crying was for babies. Megumi had to be strong. It was his fault that Tsumiki died, because he wasn't strong enough to protect her.
Another noise—closer.
Megumi realized, with muted horror, that what he had heard was footsteps approaching the door. It wasn't a single pair, but rather two distinct sets. More people were coming. Megumi clutched the kitchen knife, trying to ignore the way his hand shook. Did they know Satoru? Were they nice like him? What if they weren't? Megumi had never used a weapon on another human before. He usually did everything he could to avoid them.
"You think he went this way?"
"Of course—look at all this blood."
Megumi held his breath as what sounded like two men entered the storage room. Their footsteps stopped near the doorway, and Megumi prayed that they would turn around and leave. There weren't any supplies back there aside from more of that bleach. Megumi's hopes were dashed when one of the men started walking toward the stack of boxes he was hiding behind. His footsteps were much heavier than Satoru's, making a lot more noise with every step he took.
Their eyes met the second the man came around the boxes. He didn't look at all surprised to see Megumi, and didn't react at all to the knife Megumi held in his hand. It might as well have been a toy compared to the machete he held limp at his side. The blade was stained with blood. Something flashed in the man's eyes—something that terrified Megumi.
"Hey, Nakamura, come check out what I found."
"Eh? What is it now?" The second man, Nakamura, appeared, a grin spreading across his face. "Well, look what we have here. You get lost from your parents, little boy?"
"What should we do with him?" the first man asked, his eyes raking up and down Megumi's body. "Can't just leave him here to die now, can we? Would be a real waste, don't you think?"
A shiver ran down Megumi's spine. Even if he wanted to fight them, Megumi didn't stand a chance against two full-grown men. More noise drew Megumi's attention away from the two men. Neither of them seemed to have heard it as they continued talking to one another. Megumi's eyes widened as the head of a moon bear appeared in the doorway leading to the alley. Its mouth hung open, thick strands of yellow saliva dripping down its chin. Where its eyes had once been was nothing more than bloody caverns, deep scratch marks littering its face.
Megumi's blood ran cold when the bear's head swiveled in their direction. It sniffed the air, letting out a snort that sent its saliva flying.
"What the hell was—"
The bear moved faster than Megumi could blink, its jaw clenching down on the second man's throat with an audible crunch. He didn't even have time to scream before the bear tossed him around like a rag doll, blood splattering everywhere. His body hit the pile of boxes, knocking them over. Megumi nearly screamed when one of them hit his leg, but bit his lip to stop himself.
"Fuck! Nakamura!"
The first man drove his machete straight through the bear's throat. It dropped his friend before turning on him. The blade snapped in half as the bear whipped around and raked its claws across the man's face. The screaming was horrific. However, the sight was a million times worse. Megumi could barely look at him before turning away. Half of his face was gone, the other half mangled, with chunks of flesh dangling. Megumi heard him stumble into a shelf before the bear lunged forward.
The storage room was filled with the sound of tearing flesh and squelching as the bear tore his body apart. The screams quickly turned into garbled cries before dying out. Among the carnage, Megumi heard another noise—the deranged chattering of a tanuki. Megumi didn't even see it before the bear pounced, ripping it to shreds in seconds. It wasn't that unusual to see, especially when one animal was already in a frenzy.
Anything that made noise was in danger.
The horrific noises stopped after a few seconds, the only sound that of the bear's heavy breathing. Megumi heard it sniff the air once more and squeezed his eyes shut. He held onto Shiro for dear life as the bear's heavy steps came closer. Its breath ruffled some of Megumi's hair, the stench nearly making him gag. It kept moving closer, its breathing growing more frantic. Just as Megumi thought it was all over, the loud chime of a bell rang out from somewhere outside.
Megumi's eyes shot open as the bear's head whipped around. It had been mere centimeters from Megumi's face. Another loud chime sent the bear flying out the back door. Megumi almost forgot how to breathe. The room was a complete horror show, with blood, guts, and bits of flesh everywhere. Megumi had to have been seconds away from crying when a figure appeared in the doorway.
It was Satoru—he'd come back.
His eyes widened as he took in the aftermath of the bear's rampage. Before Megumi could get a single word out, Satoru rushed forward and scooped him up into his arms. Megumi dropped the knife, still clinging to Shiro as he gripped Satoru's shirt with his free hand. Satoru whispered something in Megumi's ear, so light he couldn't hear the words. Still, Megumi understood—they needed to be quiet.
Satoru carried him out of the store, turning left down the alley. Over his shoulder, Megumi could see the moon bear at the other end of the alley. It was sniffing along the ground, where a few bells were scattered around. The second its nose touched one of the bells, causing it to chime, the bear would snap at it, crushing the bell with ease. From the street, Megumi saw a silka deer heading towards the bear.
Megumi buried his face in the crook of Satoru's neck, not wanting to see what was about to happen.
- - -
The two made it to Gojo's apartment building without much fuss. They had a near run-in with a badger while exiting an alley, but thankfully, the creature was more interested in attacking a set of wind chimes. Gojo swore he heard a set of wings flapping overhead at some point, but without a visual confirmation, he couldn't say for certain. With Megumi's leg, Gojo had to cut his usual route a little short. Still, he made sure to duck into multiple buildings, exiting through side or back doors in hopes of throwing off anyone on his trail.
Call him paranoid, but Gojo didn't trust what he couldn't see.
Entering the building, Gojo put Megumi down on the front desk counter for a second while he took out the bottle of bleach. He poured it all around the front door and into the front lobby to cover their scent. Once he was done with that, Gojo picked Megumi back up and made his way to the stairwell. He had ten flights of stairs to get up.
Maybe an apartment building wasn't the best place to hide out, but Gojo made it work for the last two years. His apartment not being on the ground floor made it less likely that the creatures below would find him. Only about two had ever made it that far up the stairwell, and only because they tracked his scent. Being ten stories up also meant that Gojo didn't have to be quite as careful about the level of noise he made. He didn't have to worry about one loud sneeze ringing the dinner bell.
Best of all, the place had a balcony, allowing Gojo to get some fresh air without risking anything getting inside.
The moment they were inside his apartment, Gojo slid all five of the deadbolts into place. The rooms used to unlock by keycard, but when the power grid went out, Gojo had to break the old locking mechanism. He couldn't lock the place down when he was gone, but that didn't matter much. It wasn't like Gojo had much to lose in the first place—nothing he couldn't fit into his backpack.
In the safety of his home, Gojo could breathe a little easier.
Gojo sat Megumi down on the kitchen island, facing the large windows across the room. He quickly checked Megumi over for any more wounds. It was more for his peace of mind than anything, as Gojo knew that if that bear had gotten a hold of him, Megumi would have been dead. Gojo still couldn't believe it. A moon bear, of all things, had found its way into the city. Those things were built like fucking tanks, capable of breaking down most fortifications.
Megumi looked pretty shaken up by the whole ordeal, but was otherwise fine.
He'd been lucky.
After confirming he was alright, Gojo went and fetched a few towels from the bathroom. The kitchen island wasn't the most ideal spot for this, but Gojo needed plenty of light to ensure he didn't fuck anything up. He set up a few of the big towels on the ground underneath Megumi to catch the blood dripping down his leg, and set aside the hand towels for later.
As gently as he could, Gojo removed the blood-stained bandages. In better lighting, Gojo could see the full extent of Megumi's wound. It was going to take a lot more stitches than Gojo had initially thought. Tossing the bandages aside, Gojo pulled everything he needed out of his backpack: antibiotics, painkillers, rubbing alcohol, Isodine, and a standard sewing needle and thread.
Once again, it wasn't the most ideal—Gojo knew the risks of using something that wasn't medical-grade—but given their situation, Gojo didn't really have a choice. It was that or let the kid bleed out. At the very least, the Isodine and antibiotics should help minimize the risk of an infection, which brought them to step one.
"This is going to sting—" Gojo said as he grabbed the bottle of Isodine. "—but we need to clean and disinfect the wound before we can stitch it up. Hug Shiro as hard as you can, alright, and don't be afraid to make some noise—they shouldn't be able to hear you from up here."
Megumi nodded as he hugged Shiro to his chest. Gojo had only gotten the bottle cap off, and Megumi was already squeezing the life out of his poor plushie. Rather than wasting time offering useless comfort, Gojo got right to work pouring the Isodine over the wound, starting from the top of his leg and working his way down to flush out any dirt and gunk. Megumi buried his face in Shiro, his knuckles turning white. Beyond a pained hiss, Megumi barely made a peep, but Gojo noticed the way his entire body shook.
Unfortunately, there wasn't anything Gojo could do to lessen the pain. He just needed to get it all done as fast as he could and hope the painkillers offered some relief. God knows how bad it was going to get once they moved on to actually stitching up the wound. Gojo knew from experience how miserable an experience that was, especially without any anesthesia. Not to mention, he'd been lucky enough to have Shoko back then. Unlike Gojo, she knew what she was doing and how to do it quickly without royally fucking up.
"How you holding up, Kiddo?"
The only response Gojo received was a pained noise.
Returning to his supplies, Gojo took the rubbing alcohol and disinfected the sewing needle before pouring a little onto the spool of nylon thread. Glancing at the bottle of painkillers, Gojo debated giving them to Megumi then, but ultimately decided against it. Depending on how long the next part took, the meds might start working too soon. Gojo's brows furrowed in concentration as he prepared the first round of thread.
Taking a deep breath, Gojo grabbed a chair from the dining room and set it down in front of Megumi. The last thing he needed was his knees giving out halfway through.
"Try to keep still for me."
That was Gojo's only warning before he sat down and got to work. The second the needle punctured and slid through skin, Megumi sobbed, the sound pulling at Gojo's heart. It only got worse from there. Tears streamed down Megumi's face, pained cries slipping out now and again as Gojo locked in and focused on sewing the wound one stitch at a time. Gojo lost track of time between threading the needle, cleaning away excess blood, and making sure he didn't mess up a single stitch.
By the time he was done, Gojo's fingers were sore. Megumi was quietly sobbing, a section of his plushie having ripped from how hard he was gripping it. Gojo wished he could say they were done, but he needed to go over it one last time with the Isodine. He tried to get it done as quickly as he could, using it to wash away most of the blood.
Grabbing one of the hand towels, Gojo gently patted Megumi's leg. The stitches weren't the prettiest, but they got the job done. Taking the roll of gauze out of his pocket, Gojo reapplied a clean layer of dressing.
"All done, Kiddo." Gojo smiled reassuringly when Megumi finally looked up. The poor kid's face was a mess from all the crying. "Hang tight for sec."
Gojo grabbed a cup from one of the cabinets and filled it halfway with water from his supply before washing the blood off his hands in the sink. He had picked that specific building after learning that it had a gravity-fed water tank on the roof. Most of the water had run out after two years, but Gojo left the hatch open, allowing it to gradually fill with rainwater. It wasn't an endless supply by any means, so Gojo was still careful not to use too much at a time.
Once he finished cleaning his hands, Gojo grabbed the antibiotics and painkillers, shaking out the correct amount of pills for each. He quickly returned to Megumi's side.
"Here, these should help with the pain."
Gojo held the pills out first, which Megumi took with a shaky hand. When Gojo offered him the cup of water next, Megumi hesitated. Gojo blinked, confused, before it dawned on him.
"Hey, it'll just be for a second. She's not going anywhere—I promise."
Megumi hesitated a second longer before finally putting Shiro down. Gojo made sure he had a steady grip on the cup before letting go. While Megumi downed the pills and drank, Gojo took and wet one of the hand towels. When Megumi was all done, Gojo gently cleaned his face, wiping away all the grime and tears. The kid was pale, which didn't exactly surprise Gojo, but still worried him all the same.
"Want to lie down for a bit?"
Megumi nodded, and Gojo scooped him back up into his arms. Popping into the first bedroom, Gojo grabbed a blanket off of the bed before returning to the living room. He wanted to keep Megumi where he could see him, and the couch was pretty much as comfortable as the beds with soft cushions and pillows. Gojo carefully laid Megumi down and tucked him in. The poor kid was exhausted—he could barely keep his eyes open. Gojo ruffled Megumi's hair.
"Get some sleep."
It didn't take long for Megumi to fall asleep. Gojo waited until he was certain Megumi wouldn't wake up before leaving his side. Rummaging through his pack, Gojo pulled out the cans of food he'd found at the convenience store. One was a can of peaches, which Gojo cracked open. He plucked a fork from the kitchen drawer and leaned back against the counter as he ate a few bites. It was sweet, but not enough to satiate Gojo's sweet tooth.
Gojo had planned on hitting up the Yokocho Hokuriku food market in a couple of days—a plan that might have to change. Should the best-case scenario happen and Megumi avoid an infection, it would still be a while before he could walk on his own. Bringing him along would slow things down and put them both at risk, but Gojo wasn't too keen on leaving the kid alone again, especially not after what just happened.
Of course, Gojo knew he didn't have much of a choice.
Megumi was another mouth to feed, and Gojo barely had enough for himself. Deep down, Gojo knew that taking such a young kid under his wing was, in a technical sense, the wrong choice. Anyone with an ounce of self-preservation would have walked away—pretended they saw nothing. Just fixing the kid up had taken a lot of energy and supplies, not to mention a greater risk, as Gojo had to venture farther than he'd planned to get what he needed.
Gojo wasn't even that fond of kids, yet he didn't regret the choice he made.
When things got rough—when Gojo found himself questioning his choices—he always thought to himself, what would Suguru have done? Gojo knew the answer. The moment Suguru laid eyes on Megumi, he would have scooped that kid up without a second thought and without hearing a word Gojo had to say. Suguru had too big a heart, especially when it came to children. Gojo loved that about him, but also hated that it was the very reason he was alone now.
Letting out a tired sigh, Gojo ate a few more bites before setting aside the other half for when Megumi woke up. Glancing in Megumi's direction, Gojo perked up when he caught sight of Shiro still sitting on the kitchen island. It just goes to show how exhausted Megumi was that he'd completely forgotten about it. Gojo picked it up, examining the tear in the plushie's side.
It wasn't too bad—nothing Gojo couldn't fix. Grabbing the needle and a fresh string of thread, Gojo quietly sat down on the floor in front of the couch and got to work patching up Shiro. Megumi snored softly beside him, Gojo's lips tugging into a fond smile. Maybe he wouldn't be so alone, after all.