Jiyong had wondered aimlessly around for hours. He had no plan and no hope, yet he just kept on walking. He was starving. A little bit further he told himself, but what would it really matter? He had finished all his food, and he hadn't come across a town or any sort of signs of habitation for a few days now. He was also running low on water, having had no luck in finding a small creek, or just a puddle would be enough. Dirty puddle water, that was how far gone he was. Not only was he prepared to drink it, he hoped against hoped to be so lucky to get the chance.

He was getting dizzy, the lack of food had taken its toll, he was reaching the end of his rope. He could feel it, his body getting weaker with every passing day. Was this the feeling dying people got when they slowly inched closer to death? He would've thought it was more grand than this, more dramatic and life defining. He had expected his life to flash before his eyes, getting heightened clarity, finally making sense of everything that had happened. Whispering words of wisdom to the wind, hoping it would carry them far into the distance, finding another unfortunate soul. He had even expected having rage tantrums at the injustice and unfairness of his imminent death.

Instead it was an unremarkable realization, 'So I'm dying.', 'Ah, my time is up.'. A vague feeling of peace, encompassed by the certainty that his days were numbered. Mostly it felt like giving up. He had stopped fighting and accepted that he was going to die. There was nothing for him here anyway. Except...

A week had passed since that fateful night with Youngbae. A week? Jiyong wasn't sure anymore, the days were all the same so they all blended together. It could've been just a few days, it could've been 2 weeks for all he knew. On his long walks to nowhere he found his thoughts constantly wandering in Youngbae's direction. He tried to wipe him from his mind, but that made him long for him even more. He missed him. It was silly really, missing a zombie that you barely knew.

Was it possible to know a zombie? From what he had seen, he was pretty sure the Infectees were incapable of speech, so what was he going to do if he showed up? Sleep with him again? Keep him as his own personal slave? That would be a new low, not even the end of the world could excuse that kind of behavior. But no matter how much he tried to convince himself that trying to have a relationship with a zombie was pointless and bordering on psychotic, his heart didn't listen. He wanted to see him again, there was no denying it. But even if he gave in and allowed himself to cross over to the realm of the crazies, it wouldn't do any good. Youngbae was gone. He had gotten what he wanted, and disappeared.

Jiyong felt stupid. He had actually thought it had meant something, that it had been special. That they had this mysterious bond connecting them together, so even if they couldn't communicate, they could understand each other. Youngbae was a zombie, ZOMBIE! When was he going to get that through his thick head. Zombies didn't have feelings, they didn't have deep inexplicable connections, they just had urges and mindlessly fulfilled them no matter what the cost.

“Woa..” Jiyong swayed. His dizziness was getting worse, he was seeing spots everywhere. His head felt fuzzy, his mouth dry and warm. He had this weird taste in his mouth, he didn't like it. He wanted to go home. He wanted to see his mom. He wanted her to take him in his arms, patting his back lightly, telling him that everything was going to be alright. He wanted to cry, but he was so dehydrated that there were no tears available. He should drink the rest of the water. He took off his backpack and..

---

It was dark. Jiyong couldn't even see any stars or silhouettes. Where was he? There was something flickering in the distance, dancing shapes in the dark. What was it? It was more like he was feeling it rather than seeing it. Why couldn't he make it out? Then he realized his eyes were closed.

He opened them. It took all his strength just to lift his eyelids. He had the mother of all headaches. Disorientated he peered out of the crack his eyelids had managed to open. It was indeed nighttime, but there was a fire in front of him. A carefully stacked bunch of twigs and branches that had been lit, and now the fire was dancing in joy as it consumed its favorite of foods. Food. Jiyong's stomach grumbled. How long had it been since he last ate? Two days? Three? He had even tried eating bark and leaves just to fill his stomach, but it only gave him a stomach ache.

Wait. Fire?! Where had the fire come from?!? He was a bit hazy on how he had gotten here, the last thing he remembered was trying to get water from his bag, but he was pretty sure the fire wasn't his own doing. Were there other survivors? Had they found him and brought him to safety? His heart became a little bit lighter, he wouldn't mind some company. He had learned to be wary of other people, but if they had saved him, they had to be alright. Crazy murderers didn't save random people off the street. Unless... unless they were planning to eat him. Maybe they were out of food as well, and this was their only way of surviving. He got a pang in his stomach, he might have made peace with dying, but he sure as hell didn't want to go out like that. He imagined a big dirty criminal that had escaped prison after the breakout, feasting on his thigh, ripping the slightly burned flesh off his bones. He shivered, pushing the image from his mind.

No, he couldn't stay here. It was too dangerous. If not half insane survivors, they could be Infectees. Oh, what was he thinking. They weren't smart or patient enough to light a fire, and it was useless to them anyway, they enjoyed ripping the flesh off their victims while they were still alive. It had to be survivors, it was the only explanation. He wasn't going to stay to find out what kind of people they were. He got ready to get up, but his legs weren't listening to him. They were like dough, shaking under his weight. Yeah, this wasn't going to work. He could feel panic setting in. He was trapped.

---

Jiyong's heart jumped. He had heard something. Were they back? Was this it? His heart pounded on his ribcage, the adrenaline sharpening his senses. He had dozed off earlier, but now he was wide awake. He could barely make out a silhouette of a person out the corner of his eye. He squinted, but he couldn't even tell whether it was a man or a woman. Whoever it was, they had their guard up, carefully edging closer.

He gasped. As a flickering tongue of fire tried to his face, he could finally see the person. Only, it wasn't a person. He would know that white milky smooth face anywhere. More gorgeous than anything he had ever laid his eyes on, it never failed to take his breath away. Youngbae.

Jiyong's heart did a summersault. 'Shh. Be still you idiot.' he told it, but he was as happy as his heart was at seeing that ominously beautiful zombie again. Youngbae was acting a bit weird though. It was like he didn't dare get closer. Youngbae was watching him like a hawk, like he was waiting to see his reaction. Jiyong almost chuckled, it was such a ridiculous situation. A menacing monster was afraid of him. But Jiyong had thought they had made up already. Had he really been that harsh when he chased him away? He hadn't meant to scare him, he only wanted him to go away. Although, that hadn't been his wish at all. Not deep down inside. Even if he knew he killed that poor puppy in cold blood. Even then, he wanted him by his side. He had finally lost it.

Jiyong waved him over, urging him on like he was trying to get a skiddish animal to trust him. This made no sense. Youngbae could kill him with his pinky finger alone. To think that he was afraid of him made Jiyong's insides melt a bit. He might be a monster, but he was the cutest, sweetest monster that had ever roamed the Earth.

Youngbae slowly came closer, taking tiny steps, his whole stance submissive. He had both of his hands behind his back. “What have you got there?” Jiyong asked, not sure whether he really wanted to know. If it was another dead puppy...

Jiyong made another attempt at standing up, but nearly fell over. Youngbae caught him with one hand, his other hand still behind his back. “Thanks.” Jiyong said with a smile. Youngbae's eyes twinkled in the dim light of the fire. “Now, show me what you're hiding there.” Jiyong told him, he wanted to get this over with. He had no idea what to expect. Youngbae had this unsure air about him. Very slowly he pulled his hand out from behind his back. He held it up for Jiyong to see, not making eye-contact.

It was a rabbit, a dead rabbit. FOOD! Jiyong's mouth watered and he almost jumped for joy. Instead he jumped into Youngbae's arms, squeezing him tight. He couldn't help himself. He wasn't going to die from starvation! He had thought he had made peace with death, but it had only been the lack of energy that had temporarily muffled his will to live. Mmh, how he had missed this. Feeling the warmth of Youngbae's incredibly well shaped body. He breathed in his smell. It lit the urge to kiss him, but he was too hungry. First, dinner!

“Okay, we need to remove the skin and then find a stick to put it on to roast it.” Jiyong acted out pulling the skin off the rabbit, to see if he could get Youngbae to do it. He did have a knife, but he would rather spare himself the gore. Youngbae was a zombie after all, gore was his life. Youngbae was staring incredulously at him, not sure what to do. Jiyong repeated the action a couple of times, assuring Youngbae he was understanding him correctly. Poor thing. The irony was not lost on Jiyong. A dead puppy and Youngbae had been exiled for his crimes, but a dead rabbit and he was celebrated as a hero. If you thought about it rationally, it didn't make any sense. Why was killing a rabbit okay, and not a puppy? Both were cute furry little animals. It was only natural that he was confused.

Maybe he should take it a little easier on him. He had saved his life. In fact this was the second time he was saving his life. And he had never been anything but good to him. He should take into account that he hadn't been raised in a human society, where random rules that had taken root in the psyche of the people dictated what was right and wrong. If you were without that moral compass, it could be difficult to navigate the murky waters of human emotion.

Yeah, he was going to give him a break.