“I want to see a rainbow again one day.”

That’s what you said one day, rather randomly with no leading topic, you easing every aching joint in your body, vest loaded with 9mm discarded on your ankle.

I waltzed my way to you, all dirty and scarred and sweaty, in which you possibly equally were but still managed to shine like the stars beyond the old roof we were under in. I was ashamed, yet grateful.

“We will.” I muttered. Your chin was gently pinched between my thumb and index finger and I thought I didn’t deserve you when you smile like you actually believe in me. Like white lies are prayers and prayers are bound to be granted.

The tranquility we had subconsciously built up the moment our gazes crossed each other was pierced by inhumane wails, along with incessant cracking and rattles and screeches at this ungodly hour.

You whimpered and it was like an automatic reaction to envelope you with as much warmth I could provide. I led you to the corner of the basement we called home and slid down beside our sleeping bags we’d found from the remains of a wrecked convenience store, you in my arms.

When another wails were heard, it was so close that I could see a glimpse of disjointed feet between the gap of the door and the ground.

I pulled you closer to me and you didn’t complain. Your pink, disheveled strands of hairs slip in between my chapped lips as we inhaled the dusty air really quietly that we might as well became one with the night.

~*~

The second time you declared your longing to see the colorful arches of god’s creation, we were restocking our supply of food; you had a box of cereal with a smiling cub, smiling sun and smiling rainbow printed on it.

You’d picked the box up from a slanted aisle, your battered boots buried amidst other brand of cereals. I put down the fifteenth can of tuna I’d yet shoved inside my bag, smiling, thinking how you could make a routine of restoring life supplies in the middle of apocalypse to look like a grocery shopping done every Sunday afternoon.

I tiptoed my way to you, careful not to kick any of these boxes and startled you in the process. I touched your exposed nape with the tip of my fingers, my nails accidentally scratching the bun you’d so nonchalant made out of your hair with an overused blue hairband. You merely hummed in acknowledgement.

(I wondered how things would be if the outbreak was crossed off from the list of absurd things happening in my life, how it’d be like if the world continued to function without millions of human turning into undead, or just how it’d simply feel like if I’d somewhat met you sooner, in the right place, in the right time.

I halted my stupor.

What if’s tasted like a black coffee in the tongue of my heart.)

“I’m getting this.” You said it more to yourself.

I peeked at the expiration date at the bottom of the box. It’s two months past its useable date. You hugged the box to your chest, like a child with her mother’s hand, nonetheless, and I bit back any comment or reprimanding against that. Besides, I got to relish in your scarce smile and relaxed posture, ones that were more of a frown and grimace these days.

But of course, reality is a rolling movie and your smile was soon wiped off from your countenance as we cautiously walked pass the shattered glasses of windows. We quiet down our breath, a habit we’d always done as to not attract unwanted attentions.

The evening descended and we were back to our dingy basement. I caught you fiddling with the box; the cereal itself was nowhere to be found. You noticed my questioning gaze and your cheeks grew red in embarrassment, almost matching your now down hair. You, albeit flustered, told me to continue counting the ammos we had left, and I, with a chuckle, did leave you alone.

When we went to the town in the next day, I saw a glimpse of uneven edge of cardboard on the back pocket of your shabby jeans; a hint of red and yellow and a cub’s ear merging from the line of the pocket.

I said nothing.

Maybe hope’s the mother figure we all need anyway.

~*~

Her name was Dahyun. She’d a pale complexion, had blondish, straight hair flowing until her back and she had definitely seen better days.

She was trapped under the ruin of tables and chairs, barely alive, bloodied and at the brink of unconscious. I repeatedly, though lightly, slap her peaked cheek; sure that carrying someone in my shoulder was probably not a good decision with a couple of aggressive undead trying to barge inside this classroom now.

“This is not gonna work.” I handed her slowly to your lap and you knew exactly what to do it was kind of sad. We didn’t deserve this. Not you. Not me. Not anyone.

Unfortunately, the blaming game would not magically swallow us into another universe. I’d tried it before, and after a couple round of doing nothing with zero wining, I decided that this wasn’t the reason why I live, to give up and mourn and cried like a coward.

Face the music, they said; the growls behind the bricked walls were like Beethoven to my ears at this point.

“Be careful.” She mouthed, cradling the poor girl’s head, trying to stop the bleeding. I rubbed an M1911 that’s resting on my vest to make sure it’s really there, just in case I had to use the loud and ineffective way, and grabbed a broken leg of a chair from the floor, holding it up as I approached the door.

There were bangs, however, shots after shots and thuds of tumbling cadavers.

Someone was outside.

I paused midway and it was silent for a second or two until the door burst open and a flash of brunette speeded toward me. I was too paralyzed to aim though, especially with a rolling head entering the class, eyeballs no longer in its socket and teeth looked more like lined fangs.

“Mina!”

The urgency whirled me around, but you were already on your feet, looking simultaneously baffled and somewhat relieve. That flash of brunette actually belonged to another girl, cladded in the same uniform as the girl we were tending previously, kneeling to softly called the latter’s names to wake her up from dangerous sleep.

You opened your arms for me to come and I collapsed into you heavily you staggered backward. My eyes stung, like haze had suddenly formed out of nowhere and blinking was a mere useless approach to lessen the hurt.

“C- Chaeng…” I gasped and twirled you around so that you wouldn’t have to endure the weight I’d been so rudely given. You tightened your grip on me. You understood. I feel both glad and betrayed that you’d an inkling of this outcome. “C- Chaeyoung…”

“Don’t.” Your voice was hoarse. You seized the piece of wood off my fist and tossed it aside, my whitening knuckles and guiding me to have my arms wrapped around your petite waist. You massage my scalp. You cried along with me. “Don’t, Mina. Don’t.”

I didn’t.

I found my little sister in the state I was forlornly pleading to god she wouldn’t have to be in.

*

We brought them back to the basement, after numerous failed attempts to bust our skull open by the brunette that is. You were more diplomatic than I could ever be. You convinced her that we were on the same page of a horror book and it would be unwise not to compile as much power as we could get.

Her name was Tzuyu. She’s a transferee from Taiwan. She refused to disclose the place where she’d gotten her gun from and her first impression lingered rather badly in my wake.

(Your rested your palm on my chest and gently, like a press of a feather, pushed me to lie down. You hushed me, intervening the glaring battle between me and the Taiwanese, and begged me to get a wink of sleep.)

When the morning came, I woke up with a dull ache behind my ribs. You weren’t there beside me and I was terrified for a second until your laughter sang me a good morning. I was cleared off from any trace of unwanted dreams (my baby sister screaming and sobbing and in an overbearing pain while I was helplessly chained a meter away from her melting bones-) and I shuffled to where you were wrapping a bandage on Dahyun’s thigh.

Tzuyu bumped pass my shoulder and blocked the view off my sight – though not like I’d a tiny bit of interest in watching any further. Never have I seen a cut as nasty as that.

“Tzuyu.”

The injured girl sounded like she hadn’t drunk for two days and I couldn’t possibly blame her for that. The Taiwanese rushed to her side before I could title my head and I observed their exchange like it was a video. Platonic or not, the way the Taiwanese treated the blonde softened me. It reminded me of the time I rescued you just two days after our shared nightmare began.

Maybe I was too lost in the walk of reminiscing that your brush of fingers was the one who notified me about your presence. I ran your jaw across with my scraped knuckles, feeling and seeing you indulging in the contact. You sighed, leaning your forehead into my collarbone, loosely clutching the hem of my pants, similar to what I did to yours; I could feel the cardboard gracing my flesh slightly.

“Try to be more civil, alright?” She whispered. I glanced at the two girls; they were hugging like it was the last day they were able to do so.

“I’ll try.” I nodded reluctantly, counting her strands of pink hair that stood out with the blackness as the background.

Strangely, I always associated the color of your hair with sunset. Might be just me, but my opinion regarding you had always been vague and I’d never been too bothered to solve the puzzle. I was settled with the shallow depth of our relationship. Why risked more when I was contented with what I have?

You nuzzled on my throat. “Thank you.”

“Yeah.” I kissed your earlobes. “May I ask what you guys were talking about before I was abruptly awaken from my slumber, hm?”

You let out a breathy laugh. It tickled my skins.

“Just… Rainbows.”

~*~

“Hey Tzuyu.” I jogged to catch up with her. You had insisted that I should go to the town with Tzuyu this time for the sake of bonding and all. I couldn’t disobey you, not when your lips were puckered and a peck on my cheek was given once I said okay.

She was presumably caught off guard, I was guessing because this was the first time I properly referred her by her name and not her nationality.

“Yes?”

“What class were you in? I mean before…” I wildly gesture to our hideous surrounding. “This.”

“3-B.” She replied like it’d just been yesterday she attended class. Memory was sacred I’d to admit.

I gulped, fixing my neat vest. “Son Chaeyoung?”

Her orbs glassed and her steps faltered. She stared at me, like connecting dots into dots, and it’s as if we made a brand new first impression layered with trust and empathy.

“The best friend I could ever have.”

I nodded indifferently.

Alas the droplets of tears landing on the red soil couldn’t fool anyone.

*

“Are you guys together?”

Tzuyu didn’t bother shifting her stare from the knife she had been sharpening for the past five minutes from the porch, accepting any light even if it’s barely sufficient. She was waiting for me who was rummaging through the wardrobe of an abandoned house for something useful.

I removed a mini flashlight from between my teeth. The electricity had been long cut off ever since I could remember. “Who?” I questioned simply.

She snorted. “You and Nayeon, of course.”

“I wouldn’t know.” I shrugged. “Frankly speaking, I’m not really concerned about that.”

“As long as you won’t regret it, I su