Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

There is a town a few miles north. Albert owes Barok some favors, and there is a good chance that he can get them a car. So they head north, surrounded by the drowning silence that comes with death. Barok forces himself to focus on his surroundings, on being stealthy and spending as little ammo as possible. On keeping Ryuu close.

Once they are out in the open, just at the outskirts of town, it’s faster to cut through the woods. There are streams out here, running wild, meandering among trees and rocks and overgrown vegetation. There are animals, mostly birds, but Barok remembers seeing boars and foxes more than once the last time he was here. Sun filters through the branches above, and for a moment, it’s almost pacific.

“Wow,” he hears Ryuu utter. 

He turns, halting his advance.

“What is it?”

Ryuu is inspecting a small pond, all but enthralled by little lights that hover over the surface of the water.

“Fireflies,” he says, smiling. He looks over his shoulder. “I mean, real fireflies.”

Barok feels some tension leaving his shoulders. Ryuu chuckles at his reaction, rubbing the back on his neck.

“It’s just… I’ve never seen anything like this. That’s all.”

“The woods?”

Ryuu nods energetically.

“Yeah, I’ve never walked through the woods ," he tries the word like a new thing. "It’s kind of cool.”

Of course, Barok ponders. Kids like Ryuu, who were born after the outbreak, didn’t really get to experience more things outside of the internment zone other than pictures and movies. It shouldn’t be surprising that a scenery as simple as this is enough for Ryuu to feel in another world. They are, in a way. 

“Why don’t you just take me back to Kazuma?” he hears a soft voice ask, pulling him out of his head.

Ryuu is carefully eyeing his face. Barok shrugs.

“If he was up to the task, why would he drop you off on us?”

A crease appears between the boy’s eyebrows, but he doesn’t answer right away. When Barok believes he’ll fall quiet for good, he sees him shaking his head.

“I hope he is better now.”

Barok turns on his heels and resumes his advance. Ryuu hurriedly comes to his side. They go around a property covered in a metal fence.

“I don’t want to upset you, but he was in rough shape last time we saw him.”

Ryuu puffs out his chest, offended on behalf of his friend.

“He is tougher than he looks.”

Hardly relevant , Barok doesn’t say.

More importantly, he seriously doubts he’d be able to get either of them back to the internment zone in one piece, should he come to regret all this. So he may as well take the Sherlock approach and try pressing on instead, have a meaningful death and all that. Thinking about the detective only gives Barok a particularly excruciating heartache, so he decides to focus on whatever his eyes show him, on lending an ear to the environment so they don’t end up dead. Just yet.

A few hours later, once they make it inside the town, which seems downright empty, they find traps. All over the place. Albert has this each street covered up in bombs and trip wires and who knows what else, and it makes it all the more difficult to navigate the alleys, but it’s otherwise quiet. 

As Barok dismantles a very hidden trap that almost blows him up, he can’t help but feel a pang of pride at his friend’s handiwork. These bombs must be part of the reason as to why they haven’t run into any infected yet, but they ought to be careful.

By the time the sky is turning orange, they find a collapsed corpse that appears relatively new, a fresh shot wound between his eyes. He has some food on him, a good pair of gloves, and a bow.

Ryuu bends over to take a look at it, hands on his knees.

“Let me use that. I’m a pretty good shot.”

Barok hangs it on his shoulder. 

“Leave this kind of thing to me.”

Predictively, Ryuu doesn’t accept the negative right away. 

“We could both be armed. Cover each other.”

Which would be a good point, if he were literally anyone else. Barok shakes his head. As if he is going to let a boy accidentally kill him with an arrow, of all things.

“I don’t think so.”

Ryuu frowns. He stubbornly looks for Barok’s eyes, if only to force him to listen. Barok humors him, mainly because he doesn’t feel like arguing. Ryuu stands straight as his hands are balled into fists at his sides.

“Mr. van Zieks, I can handle myself.”

His dark eyes glint, and it could be courage what Barok sees in them, but he knows that’s not enough. Courage alone won’t get him far in this world.

Holmes didn’t die for you to get yourself killed with one of these , he bites back. What firmly comes out of his mouth instead is, simply, “No.”

Ryuu doesn’t like that, but he has no voice in the matter. 

They come across a red sign with ‘Mandatory evacuation notice’ written in big, white letters. Some places were warned before the infection showed up, but most were not. In a desolate place such as this, it’s easy to guess which one it was.

Further ahead, there is a pile of decomposing bodies. The stench makes Barok wrinkle his nose, and as he brings an arm up to put up with the nausea inducing smell, he catches Ryuu a tad too interested in the twisted sight.

Barok considers leaving him to it, but a voice in his head tells him to speak up.

“Come on. You don’t need to be looking at that.”

Ryuu shrugs, and it’s a gesture Barok hasn’t seen him do once since they met.

“I’ve seen worse,” the boy says, and Barok understands immediately what he means.

Albert doesn’t want to help. He is mad, rightfully so, because they set off half his traps and had him fearing for his own safety during the whole ordeal. Whatever the case, Barok can’t have that. He needs a car, and he knows Albert can get him one if he appeals to the old friendship they used to have back in their university days.

“And who is this?” Albert asks, eyeing Ryuu with more suspicion than the boy’s plain appearance deserves. “What are you getting yourself into, Barok?”

Ryuu, ever polite, tries for a smile.

“Oh, my name is Naruhodo, it’s a pleasure.”

Albert’s gaze comes back to Barok, asking for an explanation.

Barok doesn’t have the energy nor the patience to dwell into any of the details, so he doesn’t. He knows Albert’s eyes would bulge out of their sockets as soon as he took a look at Ryuu’s wound and would either start shooting or attempting to create a cure himself. 

He sighs, hands planted on the tattered table between them. He makes sure to lock eyes with Albert, lowering his voice to an urgent whisper.

“You owe me this.”

His friend’s blond bob of hair moves in tandem with his negative.

“Well, I don’t have a car. A functioning one, at least.”

Barok catches on that last part, his eyes narrowing with interest.

“What do you need?”

Luckily, Albert cracks under a little more insistence, but as he tightly crosses his arms over his chest, he warns Barok it’s not going to be easy. They have to cooperate, of course, and so they restock with some supplies and prepare to head out to get a car battery.

In the meantime, Barok tries to ignore Ryuu’s pacing through Albert’s study, always curiously getting his hands on anything that catches his attention. He wishes he wouldn’t get so easily absorbed into anything and everything that comes into his field of vision.

When Albert walks into the room all geared up, maybe a tad too much so with a bulletproof vest, kneecaps and arm protectors, he gasps loudly and strides towards Ryuu just to swat a modified glock out of his grasp.

“Don’t touch that!” he all but shrieks.

Ryuu flushes, hands going up immediately.

“Oh, I-I’m sorry!”

Albert glares at him, pressing the gun to his chest protectively, as if it is his most precious possession.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to go through someone else's stuff?”

Ryuu apologizes again, but Barok can tell by the way he slouches after Albert snorts and leaves the room, offended, that he doesn’t think his behavior warranted such a reaction. He can’t say he doesn’t understand the boy’s frustration at not being allowed near a weapon, but he also knows it’s for the best.

Strangely, Albert pointedly keeps Ryuu at arm’s length throughout the entire trip to where this alleged battery is, and while Barok wonders if his old friend can feel there is something wrong with him, he notices he doesn’t investigate any further, either. 

Albert has always been fidgety and a tad over the top, but not like this, this— distrusting. Barok supposes a decade of death and fear can change a person, yet he can’t help but feel a bit nostalgic over his friend’s easy smile and compassion, now seemingly lost. 

He guides them through town with a precision that shouldn’t surprise Barok, but that still manages to take him aback every time Albert makes them stop so he can deactivate a very hidden trap. It’s as if Albert has a mental map of the location for every booby trap he’s set. Ryuu is as impressed, if his wide eyes are anything to go by every time it happens.

They reach what looks like an abandoned high school, with yellow buses stranded around and the unmistakable sound of dragged steps and ragged grunts. 

Together, Barok and Albert make quick work of quietly disposing of any infected in their way into the parking lot. Ryuu follows closely, from behind any broken vehicle that can still serve as a hiding spot.

It all goes relatively well, until they are inside and a clicker spots them. Its screech calls for more, and suddenly they are running further and further into the building, blocking doors and killing whatever that comes into view. 

They have a minute to catch their breath when they barricade themselves inside of what looks like a decaying science lab. The air is stale in here, but there aren’t any spores floating around, so it should be safe.

Albert swears under his breath, reloading his gun with trembling hands. 

Barok sees Ryuu hovering at the edge of the classroom, chest heaving. He doesn’t seem injured, so Barok takes a deep breath.

“Ryuu, get away from the windows.”

The boy’s eyes find him across several metallic dissection tables, only to flick once between him and the dirty glass behind himself, then he obeys right away, coming to the further end of the room just so he can rest his back against a wall. Barok understands the need to stop worrying over what is behind you even if it’s for half a second, so he leaves him be. 

“Where did you hide the battery?” he asks Albert, who appears to be very busy cleaning his glasses on his shirt. Can he even see with those anymore? It’s been ten years.

“S-second floor—”

Barok closes his eyes in exasperation. 

“Albert—”

Albert bristles like a cat.

“It’s hidden , Barok, it’s supposed to be hard to get.”

So there is that. Albert does admit it wasn’t his brightest idea, but he tries to defend himself by assuring them he cleared the entire building when he made the choice. Not that it matters now, but still.

Once they are a tad more at ease, they slide back into the hallways and make their way upstairs. They run into infected, needless to say, more runners than clickers, so they push forward at a slow pace and exercise all the patience they are capable of.

When they reach the room where the battery is supposed to be, Barok is the first one to enter. That is why they don’t hear the infected woman sneaking up on them until it’s too late.

She latches onto Albert, clawed hand closing around one of his arms. Albert tries to hit her with the magazine of his pistol, but she keeps struggling, grunting and growling like a rabid animal. It takes Barok a fraction of a moment to react, but when he is about to spring into action, Ryuu is already jumping onto her, locking his legs around her torso and stabbing her skull again and again with a pocket knife.

She fails to support his weight and they both fall onto the ground, under the other two men’s incredulous eyes. She doesn’t move again, her growls silenced for good, but Ryuu still scrambles to his feet, putting as much distance as he can between her corpse and himself. 

“I’m alright,” Albert immediately says, and Barok believes him without even turning to make sure.

Before stopping to think, he strides toward Ryuu, and his hand thrusts forward to get a hold of the boy’s wrist.

“What was that?” he hisses.

Big, dark eyes look at him, pupils blown wide because of the adrenaline. Ryuu shakes his head, blinking as if to bring himself back to reality.

“I-I wasn’t—”

“ Thinking ? What if you got hurt?”

“I’m not. I’m okay.”

Barok gives him a once-over, and sure enough, he doesn’t see any tear in his clothes, nor any bite. If anything, his right hand is stained red with the infected’s putrid blood, his grip on the pocket knife tight enough to make his knuckles go white. His hand is still shaking.

Barok feels a migraine coming sharp to his temples. He explicitly ordered him to stay back, to leave the fighting to them. Where did he even get that blade? Has he always had it? 

He looks back at the runner, sprawled on the ground. She has a gag stuffed between her rooting teeth, a single arm and a broken ankle, which explains why none of them heard her approach, why she didn’t announce herself as loudly as her peers tend to do, why she couldn’t have bitten Albert even if she wanted to. 

Barok tries not to think about the implications of the state of her body, just hoping it all happened after she died, and his blue eyes come back up to Ryuu. He sees the young man bracing himself for whatever it is he has in store for him.

Barok opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, Albert’s voice comes from inside the classroom.

“It’s still here!”

It takes a second for Barok to understand he means the battery. Good. At least all this wasn’t for nothing. 

Ryuu swallows, and he gently shakes Barok’s hold off his arm, looking away. Barok allows it, but only because they aren’t safe yet.

They take the long way back because, well, it would be suicide retracing their steps through the school. Also, Albert doesn’t want to lead the monsters back to his house. So they meander through streets —which are mercifully empty, again, due to Albert’s traps— until it’s dark and cold, but these conditions don’t deter Albert from spotting every potential danger his own toys are.

By the time they make it inside the house, Barok is too exhausted to even suggest leaving right away. Albert himself doesn’t appear to have the energy to shoo them away either, so he throws some sleeping bags their way and disappears down the hall. 

Barok lays it on the ground while Ryuu nibbles on a piece of dry meat. Barok decides he is not even hungry. It’s the first time in days he’ll be able to sleep in a relatively secure environment, so he wants to take advantage of every single second until morning.

So he closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, Ryuunosuke is awake too, ready to go. His hair is a bit damp, clean. The night didn't last more than a few seconds, apparently. It's often like that whenever he really needs some rest.

Barok runs a hand down his face and gets up to take a shower. He isn’t about to waste the chance of getting cleaned up with hot water.

By the time he is done, comforted to a level only a warm bath can achieve, he feels a tad less tense, his shoulders slightly less stiff. They are still heavy and his back hurts, but he is considerably less miserable today, so it’s a good start. He even takes the time to shave the incipient stubble that has been growing at his jaw, all while using the bathroom’s tattered mirror as little as he can.

He finds Albert at the garage, messing with the shabby pick-up parked there. Barok knows he can’t be picky, but he has his reservations about it getting them anywhere.

“The cells work,” Albert says as a good morning of sorts, not bothering to look up from the motor. ”But we’ll need to push the truck before we get it running.”

Barok hums. He figures Albert and him can push it while Ryuu sits at the driver’s seat. 

He turns to the boy, who is coincidentally already looking at him. After a proper bath, Ryuunosuke appears rightfully refreshed, a tad less like a starved college senior and more like a slightly stressed junior. The black bags under his eyes are still there, as they usually don’t vanish after a single night of good sleep, but he looks better. Eager to help, even.

“Can you drive manual?” Barok asks.

Ryuu nods, but it’s not very convincing. His eyes dart everywhere but to Barok.

“Uuh, yeah, not a problem.”

Barok sighs, already feeling a sharp pang at his temples. His gaze goes down before coming back up to Ryuunosuke.

“Get behind the wheel, then.”

The boy hurriedly complies, and Barok absentmindedly considers asking him if he’s had anything for breakfast, but forsakes doing so in favor of checking out Albert’s work table. 

His old guns could use some cleaning, not to mention it’s been a while since the last time he emptied his backpack to keep inventory of every item in it. He finds some loose bullets, a band-aid and a can of nails that he could turn into a bomb with some explosive, if he manages to find any.

Once he is all set and Albert gives them a reluctant thumbs-up, they make their first attempt on the truck. It takes some more tries, mostly because Ryuu has problems getting the gist of how a clutch works, but soon they have it running, and they can make their way out of town with Albert’s instructions. 

After a while, Barok sighs discreetly, and he can just thank God there aren't any infected around. Albert screeches at Ryuu to not fuck it up, at which the boy only cringes as he pulls to a stop at the edge of town. Barok doesn’t think Ryuu deserves the apprehension nor condescending tone laced in Albert’s words every time he addresses him, but he remains quiet. 

As Albert hops down the truck, Barok mutters a “good job” towards Ryuu, and then he gets out as well. His eyes glint at the praise, and Ryuu smiles at him through the driver’s dirty window.

The neighborhood is deserted, gardens overgrown and neglected after years of no one tending to them, and other than some vehicles abandoned throughout the hallway, Barok doesn’t see any obstacles that might pose a problem. At least not yet.

Albert swats at his own jacket, as if there is invisible dirt clinging to it. Barok knows he is just anxious, so he doesn’t point out it’s the cleanest jacket he’s seen in a decade.

“I don’t know what you are up to, but…” Albert says then, “I wish you luck.”

The way his blue gaze rests on Barok and his eyebrows pinch suggest he is a little worried. Barok gives him a firm nod, not feeling able to offer anything more reassuring. He’s always been a realist, and he isn’t sure how many candles he will have to light just to see tomorrow— let alone his goal of meeting Klint again. But it will be worth it, he tells himself. Klint will get Ryuu to the fireflies and Barok will stop stressing over the fate of the world.

“It was good seeing you,” he admits instead, and he can’t help the heartache that comes with the memories.

Albert huffs, hair bouncing with the movement of his head when he shakes it. 

“That boy almost got me killed.”

An exaggeration, really, because Ryuu saved him, but still. Hands on his waist, Barok shrugs. 

“You have to admit he did hold his own back there.”

Albert rolls his eyes. He stabs Barok’s chest with a bony finger.

“Whatever. Be careful. Also, we are even now.”

Barok nods, feeling like he is suddenly twenty years older.

“Yes, we are.”

It’s raining, foggy. He’s been driving for what feels like hours. 

Through the rearview mirror, Barok sees Ryuu is quite entertained. He’s been reading comic books all the while, and it’s only now that Barok wonders exactly how many issues he owns.

“Where did you get that?” he asks, disrupting the quiet pitter-patter of the rain over the hood and crystals of the truck. 

Ryuu’s eyes meet his in the mirror, and then he quickly averts his gaze.

“Uuuuuuh. Back at Albert’s.”

It takes a moment for Barok to react. He sighs, exasperated. He can already see Albert having a hard attack because of the missing magazines.

“Ryuu,” he starts, disapproving.

The boy flushes.

“H-He had lots of interesting stuff, just lying there!”

Barok shakes his head, more tired than he should be at this hour of the day. His eyes go back to the road, empty and depressing, and he considers his options.

There is a pause.

“What else did you get?”

Ryuu brightens up at that. He rummages through the contents of his bag, and when he finds what he is looking for, he sits at the edge of the seat to hand it to Barok.

“Here. Doesn’t it get you all nostalgic?”

It’s a music cassette. A fine layer of dust covers the gray plastic, and Barok inwardly wonders why Albert insists on hoarding things he isn’t planning on using anytime soon.

He takes it.

“This is quite older than I am,” he mumbles, reading the faded sticker with ‘Phill Collins’ written on it. “I do enjoy this music, though.”

He pushes it into the old radio of the truck. After a moment of artificial silence, it sputters back to life, and a familiar melody floods the cabin. He silently mouths the words ‘don’t think twice’, feeling a tad more at ease.

Ryuu takes the chance to climb to the front seat, all under Barok’s ever watchful eyes.

“You know, this isn’t that bad.”

The music helps. It aids Barok’s lethargic mind to take a break from his own thoughts and the road ahead. He focuses on the lyrics and sings some verses under his breath, not loudly enough for his company to be able to hear properly. He taps his fingers against the steering wheel to the rhythm, and his mind distractedly comes up with a few accords that would go well with the song.

Ryuu hums contentedly to his right, resting his chin on his hand and gazing off the window, watching the desolate scenery march by. Barok gives him a side look. 

“Why don’t you try to get some rest?” 

The boy shakes his head.

“I’m not tired.”

He falls asleep an hour later. Barok doesn’t notice right away, but suddenly it all feels a tad too still, and he checks up on Ryuu just to find he is curled up to the side on his seat. Barok sighs with something akin to relief. It’s the closest thing he’ll have to privacy in a while, so he gracefully accepts the little mercy. Not that the boy is overly chatty or difficult to deal with, but he appreciates the moment of respite all the same.

Ryuu shifts in his sleep, mumbling something intelligible. 

Barok huffs quietly, and wills his eyes back forward.  

As they are about to reach the next big city, the road bifurcates into two highways. One that goes straight through the heart of the city, and the other that surrounds it entirely. The latter, the one they need, is completely blocked by abandoned vehicles, as if everyone with a car had the same idea the day everything went to hell.

So the decision is made for him, even if he has an odd feeling about this.

It turns out, like it’s often the case much to his own dismay, he was right.

There is a bridge, way too cleared out, as if ready for them to pass through, and an ambush further ahead. These aren’t infected but actual people, seeking to loot the living like birds of prey, but Barok isn’t about to go without a fight.

“Put your seatbelt on.”

Awake again, Ryuu shrinks into his seat, hastingly doing as he is told. Barok stomps on the pedal as he goes up the gears.

Breaking through the makeshift barricade makes him lose control of the truck, not to mention the rain of bullets that hits the tires and the crystals, all but forcing them into an abrupt halt against an abandoned storefront. The impact is violent, but not enough to send them flying through the windscreen. Barok puts off checking for wounds as he urges Ryuu to get out of the car, and they don’t have more than a couple of seconds to find shelter among the old racks of what once was a grocery store before the bandits come looking for them. Ryuunosuke is shaking, but Barok squeezes his arms to get him to focus and find a hiding place. The boy tries to pull him to come with, but Barok needs to dispose of their pursuers so they can scurry away. He mutters some words of reassurance for Ryuu and pushes him away as soon as he hears voices.

He smothers most of them, the ones that meander through isles without checking their backs every few seconds. For someone so big, Barok knows how to move in the shadows with a stealthy step. He’d be dead by now if he didn’t develop that skill, and the corpses he leaves behind only for the remaining looters to find is proof enough. He has a good grip, so he uses it to his advantage as he presses his forearm to their throats from behind, effectively cutting off their air supply. 

The ones he can’t get to in time, he has to shoot. One of them has the nerve to beg for his life, but Barok doesn’t listen and pulls the trigger either way. He doesn’t know where Ryuu is hidden, probably crouching under a table in the office next room over, but he tries to imagine he is not watching him do this. He shouldn’t have to witness such a thing, even if it’s just the law of this world at play.

There are more like them throughout the city. It looks like they have completely taken control of the few buildings that remain habitable and the main roads, not to mention they are all somehow armed and apparently know each other enough to identify a couple of strangers. Dealing with humans is way more bothersome than infected in Barok’s vast experience, given their brain actually works and is capable of coherent thoughts. Whilst the infected are more unpredictable, humans can plan out an attack, can lie and, on top of that, get organized. And use guns. The guns are the biggest problem, if he is being honest.

Only when they are momentarily out of danger’s way, nearly crawling their way through the abandoned office blocks and hotels that surround downtown, do they have a moment of calm. Admittedly, these people have done a good job cleaning the city, enough so that the presence of the infection has been all but eradicated. Barok himself would momentarily forget about it if he didn’t spend the last ten years sneaking through abandoned buildings while watching his back for stealthy clickers. 

Ryuunosuke, for his part, appears to have forgotten they are running away after a few hours of no encounters, which never fails to get on Barok’s nerves. Part of the walls have collapsed at some point, so both sunshine and climbing plants make their way inside to confer the building a deceivingly peaceful appearance. There’s even the chirping of birds somewhere, and while animal presence might suggest there’s no danger, Barok tries not to take safety for granted.

He grunts as he watches the boy walking further ahead into what looks like the remains of an office complex. The floorboards groan beneath their weight, a constant reminder of the fragility of their surroundings. 

“Hey,” he calls, careful not to raise his voice too much. “Ryuu, slow down. Wait for me.”

Ryuunosuke pokes at what at some point ten years ago was an office chair, the cushion of the backrest all but crumbling under his finger. 

“I’m right here!” he snickers, already looking around for something else worthy of his attention. 

He is about to go off on his own again, when Barok’s hand gets a hold of his shoulder. Dark eyes look up at him with alarm. Barok doesn’t know how he manages to transition from completely relaxed to nervous mouse in less than a second.

“How about you let me go first,” Barok says, not really asking. “And keep your voice down.”

“Oh. Okay.”

As they venture in deeper, the building's decay is palpable. There shouldn’t be any spores around if they stick to rooms with crumbled walls and currents of air that come from the outside, but seeing up close the vestiges of what used to be daily life in the past is not what one would do for a stroll. Whilst a tad more subdued, Barok can tell Ryuu’s attention drifts among everywhere and everything, surely marveling at things he’s only through a screen so far. 

Their path downstairs is suddenly interrupted by destroyed stairways and impassable barricades that panicked people built, probably in their last efforts to keep the infected out. They circumvent their limited options, and find an elevator shaft that has undoubtedly seen better days. The dark abyss down below smells of humidity, and Barok can hear the sporadic droplets that make their way down, only to echo in the water that has flooded the lower floors.

Briefly, Barok considers trying for yet another route, deeming that climbing down this abandoned shaft is too dangerous to even try. He feels Ryuunosuke’s gaze on him, watching him think, and he is about to tell him to turn on his heels, when he hears a crack in the concrete under his feet.

Then, in an instant, disaster strikes. The floor gives way beneath him, and Barok plummets into darkness. His heart lurches into his throat as he lets out an involuntary shout, his world spinning as he descends. Panic grips him, the cold rush of air and the chaos of the fall overwhelming his senses.

Barok hits the water with a splash, the impact sending a shockwave through his body. It’s cold enough to drain the adrenaline off his veins, deep enough so it takes him some effort to swim back to the surface. 

He sputters and gasps, his heart still pounding. He quickly assesses his own estate, and finds he is intact.

"Mr. van Zieks!" Ryuunosuke's voice echoes from above, bouncing off the walls.

He looks up, blinks the water off until he can clearly distinguish Ryuunosuke’s worried face, head poking into the shaft from what has to be a relatively safe place. It seems that Barok fell at least four or five stories down, and that the boy is still up there and apparently unharmed. Barok feels some relief wash over him. 

"I'm okay!" Barok calls back, his voice wavering slightly because of the cold.

As he moves through the murky water, his hands brushing against slick, damp surfaces every once in a while, his eyes strain to make out any signs of an escape route.

"Are you hurt? You scared me!" The distant sound of Ryuunosuke's voice floats down to him. He looks around his footing. “I-I’ll climb down, okay—”

“No! Stay up there.” 

Barok halts his advance right away, looking up and searching for Ryuu’s eyes. And before he can rebut, Barok adds, trying his best to sound reassuring, “I’ll find my way back to you.”

He doesn’t like the idea, Barok can tell just from the way he worries his lips, but there isn’t much more they can do as they are. Barok has more chances of finding a way out by diving in and moving through the water than Ryuu surviving an attack when he can’t swim. It’s better like this. 

Ryuunosuke sighs, surely reaching the same conclusion as he did, but not without a note of resignation.

“Just don’t do anything stupid!”

He can’t make any promises, so he doesn’t bother trying. He just tells Ryuu to keep his guard up and gets to work. 

He can barely see underwater, but what his eyes do make out are rusty walls and the remains of an elevator that at some point pungled down the shaft. He doesn’t have any interest in checking out whether people are still inside or not, so he dips down to search elsewhere. 

The submerged stairway at the bottom looks promising enough, so Barok glides through stale water until he reaches the other side. He does his best to not touch any dark lump or surface he can’t be certain isn’t alive. 

When he emerges, allegedly one floor up, he grimaces at his soaked clothes, hair and backpack. He figures the little food reserve he’s been carrying around will need a closer inspection once he can catch a break. Also, if he wasn't sure he stunk before, he’d very much like to avoid risking a sniff at his shirt now.

Whatever the case, he needs to find Ryuu. Just the thought of him alone, defenseless against both the dead and humans, makes Barok steel himself and move. 

As soon as he opens the emergency exit to get back into the building, he notices the particles of something , dancing in the stagnant air. He swiftly puts on his gas mask, eyes and ears alert of any sign of movement in the area. The hallway he arrives at resembles more that of a hotel than an office building, and not without a grunt, he wonders if he’s somehow ended up somewhere else entirely. No use beating himself over it, so he follows the path upholstered with a dirty gray carpet. He walks with caution among trash and corpses, paying special attention to the ones whose head is open like a flower in bloom. He just hopes Ryuu actually waits for him and doesn’t run into any trouble.

The same can’t be said for him, unfortunately. He doesn’t run into just one or two infected, but most of them are clickers, and judging by the amount of deformed fungus littering their forms, they’ve been down here for ages. Barok tries to go around them as much as possible, to return them to death silently from behind, but soon enough he is out of makeshift daggers and he has to get creative. 

He finds some things lying around that anyone desperate enough can turn into a weapon— wooden boards, one baseball bat he reinforces with barbed wire, pipes and a wrench. The bat is his favorite until it breaks upon impact against a particularly resistant infected’s skull. He has little time to mourn the loss before he hears hisses and shrieks in the next room over. He looks for shelter in the shadows and waits until it’s silent again to resume his advance.

Later, he remerges into the light after yet another flight of stairs, and he blocks the door at his back with everything he can find nearby. He allows himself a moment of respite, a short lived instant that lasts exactly how long it takes him to take the mask off and put it into his backpack. He takes a deep breath, and that’s it. 

When he walks into what looks like a kitchen, just around the corner, he almost gets his head blown off by a bullet. He sinks into a crouch with a swear, ignoring the shouts of his assailants to seek for a place to hide.

Shit, he has to find Ryuu.

As he approaches the first looter, from behind a stainless steel table, his breath held and his senses heightened, Barok's fingers tighten around a length of frayed rope. The man is oblivious, his back turned as he thinks of his next move. Too naive. In one fluid motion, Barok slips the rope around the bandit's neck, his movements precise and calculated.

A muffled gasp escapes the man’s lips as Barok pulls the rope taut, cutting off his air supply. The struggle isbrief, the bandit's body going limp in Barok's grasp. With careful precision, Barok lowers the lifeless form to the ground, his gaze unwavering, his heart steady.

Barok finds another one, positioned himself near a broken fridge, eyes scanning his surroundings. Barok's steps are nearly noiseless as he closes the distance. He reaches for a piece of debris, a jagged piece of metal.

With a single swift motion, Barok lunges forward, the piece of metal finding its mark in the man’s side just in time he clamps his hand over his mouth. His victim lets out a choked gasp, his body slumping against the window frame to his side. Barok catches him before he can make a sound, gently lowering him to the floor. From this angle, he assumes the fridge won’t let distracted onlookers notice the body. 

Yet another one stands near a crumbling doorway, gun in hand. Barok's heart races as he approaches, his fingers curling around the length of wire he salvaged from the bat. He tells himself he has to ensure that this confrontation ends as quietly as the others.

Just as the man turns, he loops the wire around his neck, using his own body weight to make it sink into his airway, not even allowing him to scream. The struggle is brief, and soon, the bandit's body goes limp, a dead weight that Barok lets go of immediately.

As he turns a corner, the flickering light of a broken lantern reveals the presence of yet one more enemy.

Barok takes a deep breath, steadying himself. He can’t afford to hesitate. Swift and silent, he moves forward, the shadows embracing him like a protective cloak. With a sudden burst of energy, he swings his weapon, striking the man in the back of his head. The blow is enough to send him crashing to the ground, a strangled cry escaping his lips. Once on the ground, Barok finishes him off with a last strike across his face, hearing bones break under the weight of the iron.

As the dust settles, Barok stands amidst the fallen looters, his chest rising and falling with exertion. His own heart pounds in his ears, drowning out the silence that had once enveloped the room. He’s done it—fought off the threat, cleared his way through the danger.

He doesn’t have time to celebrate though. So Barok takes a single moment to catch his breath, his heart gradually slowing to a steady rhythm, and goes past broken utensils and turned tables.

Barok's steps are heavy, his energy waning as he continues his journey through the abandoned building, but he finds solace in the hope of finding Ryuu again. Just a little more.

He spots a ladder propped against a wall, probably used to get to the next floor in lieu of the destroyed elevator. With a weary sigh he begins to climb, his fingers gripping the rungs as exhaustion weighs on him. It’s like his body is suddenly heavier than before, like the muscles of his arms and legs aren’t enough to pull himself up.

But then he reaches the top, and as soon as he looks up, a sudden impact to his head sends shockwaves of pain radiating through his skull. Barok's vision blurs, his grip on the ladder faltering. He falls, his body landing on a puddle of water on the ground. Disoriented and in pain, he struggles to regain his bearings. But before he can fully comprehend what has happened, a figure looms over him, an enemy who has managed to sneak up on him.

Barok's heart races as he attempts to defend himself, his fatigue and disorientation hindering his movements— he feels water coming into his lungs. His limbs feel heavy and unresponsive as he tries to push himself up from the puddle, and the bandit is relentless, his strength overpowering Barok's as he holds him down.

Barok thrashes and fights, his fingers claw at the ground, desperation giving him a burst of energy. He manages to grab a handful of mud and water, flinging it at his assailant's face. The bandit curses and stumbles back, his grip on Barok momentarily loosening. He chokes on air as he straightens, heart hammering against his ribcage with renewed hope as he reaches for his gun, his fingers brushing against the cold metal. But before he can grasp it, the bandit lunges forward, pinning Barok's wrist to the ground, his full weight onto him making it impossible to keep his head above water level. Barok's struggles become frantic, his chest heaving as he fights for breath.

The world spins around him, his vision swimming as dizziness consumes him. He gasps for air, his attempts to free himself growing weaker by the second. In a desperate last attempt, Barok manages to grab the bandit's face, his fingers digging into the man's skin. But it's too late. His strength wanes, his efforts becoming feeble as darkness creeps at the edges of his vision. Panic surges through him as he realizes he's running out of air.

Barok's fingers scrabble against the ground, reaching for his lost gun, his vision narrowing to a tunnel. His body convulses, a silent scream echoing in his mind as his struggles grow weaker. The world around him fades to black, the sensation of water enveloping him as consciousness slips away.

Then a gunshot resounds out of the water, and the weight on his chest disappears. He doesn’t think twice before he lurches out of the water, gasping for air, and with eyes wide and lungs burning, he turns to the new person to his right, ready for a fight.

Ryuunosuke’s hands shake as he holds Barok’s gun, his dark, terrified eyes fixed on the bleeding corpse next to Barok on the puddle.

“I,” he stammers, slowly lowering the gun. “I think I got him.”

Barok swallows a lump in his throat, but forces himself to his feet. 

Ryuu lets himself plop onto a box nearby, head low.

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

Needing a moment to wrap his head around what just happened, Barok stares blankly at the boy. His body is still trembling with residual adrenaline as the puddle turns red around his feet, but he knows they can’t linger here for long if these guys aren’t alone. They have to keep moving. 

Besides, Ryuu is still holding the gun. The sight makes Barok’s stomach twirl unpleasantly. He sighs, frustrated, and snatches the weapon from the boy’s grasp. They are both lucky he didn’t hurt himself with it, or worse.

“Why didn’t you wait like I told you to?” he asks, beyond displeased. 

Ryuu’s face suggests he doesn’t understand what he means.

“Aren’t you glad I didn’t?”

Barok rolls his eyes as he pockets his gun and gets to his knees to register the body for anything useful. 

“I’m glad I didn’t get my head blown off by a child.”

The fallen man has some ammo on him and a flashlight, but not much else. Barok’s hands are still trembling, and he hates it.

He hears Ryuu scoff at his back, and it’s a sound so uncharacteristic of him that Barok turns as he gets back up. 

“I’m sorry, but no.”

Ryuunosuke pushes himself off his seat, a frown marring his features. Despite being at least a head and a half shorter than him, Ryuu’s glare doesn’t waver as he comes closer.

“How about, ‘I know it wasn’t easy, Ryuu, but it was either him or me. Thank you for saving my life’ ? Do you have anything like that for me, Barok?”

The sound of his name in Ryuu’s voice takes him off guard, if only for half a second. Not that it matters. 

No, he doesn’t, he thinks. Neither does he have time for tantrums. Barok shakes his head and starts walking.

“We have to get going.”

He hears a soft sigh, but also a resigned, “Lead the way.”

They need to find a way out and get to the bridge that will take them out of this godforsaken city. The upper levels of the hotel might let them move onto the next building over, so they cautiously make their way up. It’s a relief they don’t find more infected, and that they seem to have lost the humans as well, but Barok never really lets his guard down again. It all goes to shit the moment he does, so he is not about to risk it once more. Not today.

It helps that Ryuu mostly keeps to himself as they explore, even if it’s because he isn’t precisely happy with Barok. It’s a tad awkward, but the silence is something they can benefit from in this situation, when they know for a fact that they are being hunted for sport and that they won’t be safe until they are away for good.

They reach what seems to be a large party venue, with scattered tables, a stage with instruments and broken chairs. There isn’t a corpse in sight, and sunlight filters in through the wooden boards nailed to the windows. As Barok’s eyes follow a collapsed stairway that used to lead to the second level, he notes the windows there aren’t blocked.

He surveys their surroundings.

“Do you see any way to get up there?” he asks.

Ryuu doesn’t even stop to think. 

“Nope.”

Barok presses his lips together, telling himself not to take it personal. Instead, he redirects his attention to the large piano that takes up most of the stage. He figures they can use it as a step of sorts. 

He walks up to it, feeling his fingers itch at his sides to try the keys. It’s been literally decades since the last time he got to play one, so he indulges in messing around with it a little, plucking gentle, random notes from it, so as to not make much noise. 

He goes around it, intending to push it against the wall where the stairway used to be. He huffs, taken aback by how heavy it is, but despite his best efforts, he only manages to move the piano a foot or two. 

Ryuunosuke strolls around, suddenly very passionate about absolutely anything else. Barok gives him an unimpressed look. 

“Would you mind lending a hand?”

The boy’s gaze comes up to him, playing innocent. 

“Oh, you sure you can trust me with that?”

Barok sighs. 

“Ryuu.”

Ryuunosuke comes to his side, pressing his entire weight against the piano. It’s not enough.

“Push,” Barok grunts.

“I am!”

“Push harder!”

After a good shove, the piano’s legs slide down the pallet, the collision with the wall tearing some pained notes from it. Barok frowns at the boy’s lack of care, but Ryuu simply looks away, feigning disinterest. 

“There. How’s that?”

He doesn’t grace him with an answer. He can be a brat when he wants to be, Barok will give him that.

There is a terrace outside, and a scaffold beyond the railing, wide enough for a couch to sit behind the boards that serve as protection. And a dead man on it, allegedly a guard that died on his post, if the hunting rifle and binoculars by his feet are any indication.

Voices down in the plaza make Barok duck his head. He makes a silent signal for Ryuu to join him quickly, and the boy readily obeys, barely peeking down from behind the board. 

Barok gets a hold of the rifle, only to give his hands something to do. His brain is busy coming up with a way to get to ground level and sneak past two, four, six— about seven men that scout the area, no doubt looking for either their missing friends or the pair of tourists that ended up in their city. He can’t think of a single plausible way to pull it off, so he figures he’ll have to clear the way first. 

He takes a deep breath.

“Alright now,” he whispers, not taking his eyes off the men. All of them are armed. “I’ll head down there.”

“What about me?”

“You stay here.”

Ryuunosuke’s forehead wrinkles. 

“This is so stupid. We’d have more of a chance if you’d let me help.”

Barok takes a moment to look at him, at his dark eyes. He doesn’t have a rebuttal, not really. Because he knows he is right. And yes, Ryuunosuke is younger than him, but he can both stab infected and pull a trigger on humans, so he is not entirely defenseless. He saved Barok earlier, as much as it pains him to admit it. Not that it’s a matter of pride mind you; it’s more like putting Ryuu in harm’s way will only make Barok slip up more easily as he’ll be too worried about him to pay attention to what is in front of him. Holmes wouldn’t have allowed it either.

But desperate times call for desperate measures and all that. 

“I am,” he says. 

Praying he is not making a mistake, he hands Ryuu the rifle. 

“Do you think you can handle this?”

The boy takes it, but it’s clear as day he wasn’t expecting this. He shifts in his place, anxious.

“Uhm, I’ve tried these a few times, yes.”

By now, Barok knows what that means, but they don’t really have time for practice. He beckons Ryuu to get in position, and moves the boy’s hands and the rifle under his armpit in a quick lesson as to how he should hold it.

“Lean into that stock, because it will kick considerably more than a simple gun.”

He squares his shoulders under Barok’s touch. 

“Okay.”

“Pull the bolt back.”

Ryuunosuke tugs at the bolt until a golden bullet shell jumps out, faintly clinking at their feet. Barok reminds him he will have to reload fast as soon as he fires, and Ryuu swallows, but nods. 

It pains Barok, but there isn’t much more he can do. 

“Listen to me,” he tells him, urging him to look his way. Ryuunosuke’s eyes come to him, and it’s only then that Barok realizes they are a very deep brown color, not entirely black. 

Focus, dammit.  

“Should anything go awry,” he says, carefully, “You make every shot count.”

Ryuunosuke doesn’t nod this time, but his face is the one of someone who, somehow, holds no doubts.

“I got this,” he tells Barok, and for one, naive second, he believes him.

Barok sighs one last time, probably just to give himself some courage, and he crawls to the access to the lower levels. But before he can jump down, it comes to him that this could very well be the last time they talk to each other. Which is funny, because every other conversation has been the same, always a step away from death, always a goodbye of sorts. 

“Just so we are clear about earlier,” he hears himself start. Ryuu doesn’t lower the rifle as he turns to look at him. “It was either him or me. Thank you.”

His daily allowance for vulnerability runs out as soon as the words are out, so he doesn’t wait for an answer and jumps down.

The park plaza is mostly quiet as Barok maneuvers silently through the debris-strewn terrain. His senses are on high alert, every rustle of leaves and distant sound analyzed for potential danger. Barok's heart beats in rhythm with his steady breaths as he approaches a cluster of bandits gathered near the park's fountain. Their voices are hushed but their intentions clear. Barok knows that clearing their path without alerting them is a precarious task, but it's one he's determined to execute with efficiency.

He skirts the edge of the plaza, using the bushes and benches to his benefit. The rustling leaves and soft hum of the wind mask his movements as he circles around to their back. He finds a discarded glass bottle, its contents long evaporated. With a flick of his wrist, he sends the bottle skittering across the ground.

The bandits react to the sound, their attention drawn away from their surroundings. As they investigate, Barok makes his move. He approaches one of the bandits from behind, his movements quick and precise. He presses the edge of his blade against the bandit's throat, his voice a low and threatening whisper.

"Stay quiet," Barok commands, his grip firm.

The bandit freezes, his eyes wide with surprise and fear. Barok's heart races, but he maintains his composure, keeping the situation under control. He motions for the bandit to move away from the group, his blade a constant reminder of the consequences of disobedience. 

He disposes of them in silence.

The same goes for the next one, and his anonymity lasts until he manages to kill one more and the rest of them start to fidget. A scared, cornered prey is always dangerous, Klint used to say, so Barok holds back for a moment. 

The looters easily find the bodies of their fallen comrades, so they get to search for the culprit behind their deaths. Luckily, they make the mistake of splitting off— but as much as it’s easier to get them alone this way, it’s also harder to keep track of them all.

The process is much slower from that point on, and Barok starts to lose his temper. He takes out two more, using the pocket knife he finds in a trash can in one of the stores surrounding the plaza, and he locates one of the remaining two a few steps outside. 

Telling himself it’s almost over, he creeps behind the man, effectively getting a hold of him once he is close enough. 

Yet just as Barok begins to lead the bandit toward the outskirts of the plaza, an empty can of soda cracks beneath his foot. The sudden sound alerts another bandit further away, one Barok didn’t see until now, who turns and locks eyes with Barok and his captive. Panic flashes across the man’s face, his hand reaching for his weapon quicker than Barok can do the same.

In that moment, as the bandit's fingers curl around the grip of his gun, a sharp crack slices through the air. A bullet strikes true, the impact sending the bandit reeling. He crumples to the ground, the threat neutralized. He takes the chance to break the neck of the man in his arms. 

His body falls to the ground, limp, the lifeless thud definitive with finality.

Barok's heart pounds as he releases a breath that had been stuck in his throat. He looks up to see Ryuunosuke, half covered by the boards on the scaffold, the hunting rifle still raised. Relief floods Barok's veins, newfound gratitude for the young man’s steady aim and timely intervention.

“You can come down now,” he says to no one in particular, waving so Ryuunosuke understands him even at that distance.

There doesn’t seem to be any more enemies nearby, but they would do well in moving right away.

Ryuu comes jogging, holding the rifle against his chest. His eyes give Barok a once-over, likely in search of any wounds.

“How did I do?” he asks, and there is a hint of youthful hope in his voice.

Barok would like to say he is just happy that no one got to him while he was busy, but it would be unfairly condescending considering the good job Ryuunosuke did on his own. He has a good sight, or even better, a good aim. 

He gives him a firm nod.

“You are coming along nicely.”

Ryuunosuke’s face beams at that, and carefully, Barok takes the rifle from him. 

He then takes a second to reconsider what he is about to do, and under Ryuunosuke’s curious gaze, he licks his lips. He reaches for the gun, now orphaned, of the dead man at their feet. 

“But how about something a tad more… manageable?”

He checks the amount of ammo on it, and when he makes sure the pistol is in good condition, he shows it to Ryuunosuke. The boy’s eyes go wide, and they flick between the gun and Barok twice, as if he can’t quite believe he is handing him an actual weapon.

He reaches for it, but Barok doesn’t let him take it right away. He gives him a firm look.

“It is for emergencies only.”

Ryuu nods, eyes resolute, and Barok feels like he can breathe easy now, knowing he will be more than capable of giving a good fight should he need it. And that he won’t blow off his own fingers by accident, that is truly reassuring. 

As they leave the plaza behind, Ryuu giggles to his right, clearly full of himself.

“I told you I was a good shot.”

The sun starts to go down, and as the sky changes colors above head, they reach the periphery of town. They haven’t run into problems since their last skirmish, but Barok has tested out more than once that this particular group of survivors isn’t one to forgive and forget. 

The thing is, that as much as he’d like to just get out of the damn city once and for all, they are both exhausted. They really need to make a stop. Traveling during the night is not advisable in any scenario, but doing so would ensure they don’t give their pursuers time to regroup and organize their chase tomorrow morning. 

So they settle for something in between. They reach an empty two-story house on the outer side of an unassuming neighborhood, planning to rest for a couple of hours before they are on their way again. 

Barok’s eyes keep going back to Ryuunosuke, much to his own dismay. But he is too tired to think it through, with one too many things swirling inside his head, so he gives up trying to deny he is not having second thoughts.

“T-The safety is on,” he starts, cringing at his own stammer. “Do you know how to switch it off?

Ryuu doesn’t even look at him.

“I do.”

“You just— just have to respect it, it’s not—”

“Barok, I’ll be careful.”

Barok feels his shoulders sagger.

“Alright.”

They make sure to scout the entire house first, locating supplies and every access and exit route in case they need them. One of the rooms on the second floor has a window facing the road, so Barok can comfortably sit on a chair by it and survey any suspicious movement way before it hopes to reach them— namely a violent caravan of bandits ready to quite literally skin them alive.

He leaves Ryuu to his own devices for a while, admittedly happy to have ten minutes of relative privacy. He pays a visit to the other rooms, and he finds some interesting books on the shelves that he takes with him. Not that he will manage to read them all today, but he wants to take a better look at them by the windowsill. Perhaps taking one for the road ahead might be a good idea. 

It’s when he is sitting and has the first of the books open on his lap, that he hears Ryuu running up the stairs. Immediately on alert, he gets to his feet, hand reaching for his gun instinctively.

“Ryuu?” he calls him on his way to the door.

The boy almost runs into him at the threshold, letting out a tiny squeak as he nearly falls back. He quickly regains his balance, though.

“A Twinkie!” he excitedly announces, not minding Barok’s worried face at all.

“A what.”

Ryuunosuke shows him what looks like a golden pastry, still sealed in a transparent package. Barok arches an eyebrow. 

“I found it under one of the kid’s beds!” Ryuunosuke laughs like someone who can’t believe their eyes, delighted. “It’s been so long!”

Barok tries not to look as disappointed —or relieved— as he feels. He pockets his gun once more and heads for the window. 

“It’s probably past its expiration date either way.”

Ryuunosuke’s high spirits aren’t so easily swayed it would seem, because he plops onto the king size bed with glinting eyes, holding his prize up high.

“You are just jealous I’m not giving you any.”

It’s not everyday you find something like that among the rubbish left by the world before, but since Barok has never liked sweets that much in the first place, he decides he doesn’t care. 

Holding the treat close as if to protect it, Ryuu gives him a playful look.

“I might change my mind if you’re good, though.”

Barok crosses one leg over the other, resuming his reading. If his lips twist a little at the corners, he doesn’t notice.

“Keep it.”

Ryuu rocks back and forth, trying to decide whether to eat it now or save it for later. Barok is about to extend some advice and tell him to save it for some other time, given it’s more than likely that they will run out of food eventually, but something makes him keep his mouth shut. He supposes they could get killed at any moment, so enjoying something for as long as he can is also valid. And speaking of which, that reminds him to check on the road. The horizon is dark, no lights or movement on sight, just quiet, deceivingly empty houses lining up both sides of the street.

He hears Ryuu unwrapping the pastry, faintly humming a song Barok can’t identify. Barok risks stealing a glance up.

Upon the first bite, the boy moans around a smile, eyes closed in bliss.

“ Mmmm , life is good sometimes.”

Barok shakes his head, but Ryuunosuke’s good mood ends up being contagious. After a day of running for their lives, it brings some peace to Barok’s tumultuous heart to watch him sincerely revel in such a simple thing.

“Here.”

Ryuu offers him half of his snack, and at first Barok doesn’t really know how to react, but when the boy doesn’t withdraw his hand, Barok’s only option is to accept it.

“Thank you.”

It’s soft, stuffed with vanilla flavored cream, but not very moist. It’s an interesting flavor, a complete contrast to the very limited rations the military assigns to them and what little else you can find scattered outside of the internment zone. Not to mention…

He swallows the mouthful, hoping it doesn’t upset his stomach later on.

“My niece had a concerning addiction to these,” he comments as the memory just comes back, and he doesn’t know why he says it aloud.

Ryuunosuke tilts his head, like he’s waiting for him to elaborate, but when Barok doesn’t, he mutters something about wanting to brush his teeth before bed. He gets up to go rummage through his backpack.

He doesn’t ask more, and Barok thanks him inwardly, feeling some tension leaving his body.

Barok takes the first watch, not really putting it up for discussion. While he’s recently found he can rely more on his companion, he doesn’t trust Ryuunosuke enough to not fall asleep as soon as the lights are out. Besides, he must be tired. He’s earned some good sleep, so Barok tells him to get some rest.

It would be more comfortable for them to be each in their own room, surely, but this is less dangerous, it would allow them to act right away should they need to. Not that they aren’t used to it by now, but still. God knows what Barok would do for some hours to himself, but better safe than sorry.

Ryuu looks very cozy, curled up as he is under the covers while Barok assumes his post by the window. It’s not particularly cold tonight, but Ryuunosuke didn’t hesitate to bury himself under the quilt and who knows how many sheets. Iris used to do the same, during nights they watched kids horror movies, like Scooby Doo and the like.

He must not be sleepy yet, because Barok can feel the boy’s gaze on the side of his face as he reads under the moonlight. He can’t really say he minds, but every minute Ryuu isn’t sleeping is a minute wasted. Barok, for one, would love to close his eyes and forget about everything for sixty minutes straight.

He is considering saying something when the boy’s voice, low in the silence, gets him out of his head.

“How is it that you’re never scared?”

Barok frowns at the sudden question, lifting his eyes from his book without meaning to. Ryuunosuke’s eyes scrutinize him in the dark, the rest of his body a burrito under the covers.

He doesn’t know where this is coming from, but that isn’t what he asks back.

“Who says I am not?”

He sees Ryuu leaning towards him.

“You are?”

Well, yes. He doesn’t think there is anyone out there who isn’t afraid these days. They don’t live in a world precisely made for the faint of heart though, so it’s not often you see people acting anything other than unyielding, unaffected, decided to survive. Kindness is not an everyday thing anymore either, as much as that is a shame. Barok wouldn’t count it as one of his few virtues, if he is being honest. Ryuunosuke himself has seen that firsthand. 

But he is afraid. Of quite a lot of things. There are just too many to count.

Ryuu waits patiently, quiet as a mouse, and it must be the exhaustion heavy on Barok’s bones, or the relative sense of safety in this still haven they found for the night, because he is actually thinking of an answer.

“Those things outside, I suppose,” he says softly, slowly, trying to get his thoughts in order. “I remember I used to think there was a lost soul in there, a person trying to fight back.”

“Are you religious?”

“I was before. I think.”

Ryuu hums. A thick silence falls between them, and it feels like Barok is at a disadvantage here, somehow. Like he let Ryuu in on something that makes him look weaker. Which is stupid, because Ryuunosuke would never attempt to get at him with that information. Not that it is any useful to begin with.

“What about you?” he hears himself ask, even if he doesn’t know why. “Is there anything that frightens you?”

Ryuunosuke shifts a little, making himself even smaller, as if he is trying to give himself some sort of comfort.

“Being on my own,” he mutters, not meeting Barok’s eyes. “I’m afraid of ending up alone.”

Barok looks down, to the words printed on yellowing pages. He can understand that fear. It might not be at the forefront of his mind right now, since he’s proved to himself over and over that he can handle himself just fine, but there was a time when being alone was what terrified him the most. When it all first started, as he took Iris out of the house to look for shelter, as he held onto the steering wheel with white knuckles and listened to the radio announcing the world was ending, as Iris sniffed quietly on the passenger seat and he tried his best to assure her he’d would never let anyone hurt her— that had been his first fear. That something happened to her and that he would be left behind, adrift, on his own.

He can’t promise Ryuu it won’t ever come to that, so he doesn’t.

“How come you keep that watch if it doesn’t work?” the boy asks after a while, apparently dropping the topic altogether.

Barok’s fingers brush against the cracked glass, feeling minute shards dance against his skin like sand.

“It was a gift.”

“From your niece?” he suggests, voice awfully gentle.

Barok huffs. Iris liked saving most of her allowance, so it probably came from the stash of crumpled bills she kept in a shoe box inside her closet.

“Clever boy.”

He looks up at him, and their eyes meet, but only for a second. Barok watches him hide under the cocoon of his covers.