[badbye - RM]
[~3k; short chapters are so weird, but this is my goal for this]

Day Five

Noon?

22 April

Seoul, South Korea

She isn’t really sure how she avoids the hands. She sprints, runs for her ing life, her breath caught in as she tumbles into bushes, ignoring the dried blood splatters and entrails, bright red against cement, and she tries to breathe, even as the car alarm goes off, a nonstop constant that is so utterly loud, she’s sure every single zombie within a five-mile radius is stumbling over here right this minute.

She squints, blinking away a dry spot in her contact lenses that make her eyes water a bit, skidding around the corner and thanking whatever god is out there that the alleyway opens up into another street, one that is further away from the blaring car alarm. She sprints faster then she ever has in her entire life, and the metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel gives her so much joy, she thinks she could cry.

Until—

“No.” She whispers, nearly tripping over her own two feet as she skids to stop, her feet skittering on the cement.

There’s a single walker that had turned the corner and started lumbering at her, it’s neck seemingly broken, the bones sticking out of bruised, swollen skin, and she’s thinks she’s going to puke. She spins, but the situation is worse behind her.

“No.” She murmurs, swiveling on her heels, looking for an escape, any escape. She bends, grabbing a broken piece of cardboard and tosses it at the walker. It doesn’t work—clearly it wouldn’t—but she’s desperate and she’s—she’s cornered.

She’s going to die.

All because of some stupid useless boy who got himself caught up a tree like some damn stranded cat.

She’s going to—

She yelps when there’s a loud, echoing crack and the lumbering walker hits the brick wall of the alley with a sickening crunch and standing there, bat in his hand and chest heaving, is said stupid useless boy.

She could cry.

But, she doesn’t. Not when he grabs her elbow and yanks her forward, just one sharp tug, before letting go, and her legs move on autopilot as she follows after him, blindly following him as he weaves through the alleyways as if he’s always done this. Honestly, it should set off alarms for her, but it doesn’t. Maybe, she’s just mentally fried at this point. They run and run until the car alarm blaring is something of a distant annoyance rather than life threatening and she smacks right into stupid useless stranded cat guy’s back, yelping at the pain of her chin colliding with his solid back.

“We need to go up.”

She blinks up at him, still rubbing her chin, and eloquently mutters, “What?”

“Up.” He states as he swivels before he skids into yet another alleyway. She follows him, refusing to look back over her shoulder. She doesn’t know what she’ll do if she sees another bloodthirsty zombie lumbering at her. She might pass out.

She blinks at him, moving on autopilot, especially when he gestures for her to come closer. He’s standing under an emergency fire escape that must have been recently installed. She’s heard of them, but she’s more used to the fire escapes with ropes attached to them. Right then, she’s grateful for whoever decided the old apartment building needed a modern fire escape.

The end of the stairs are just out of reach, but the boy jumps—much like a cat would, she realizes with dry awe—him fingers just reaching the end of the ladder, and it slips down further. The resounding clunk of metal is the only consequence and she knows they’re on a time crunch now.

It surprises her immensely when he doesn’t go first. She can’t even question him, not when they have no time to argue about who should go first, politeness be damned.

She jumps, fingers wrapping around the last rung of the ladder, and her muscles scream for reprieve when she tries to hoist herself up. Suddenly, she regrets all those nights she skipped the gym to lay around her apartment and eat snacks. She reddens in embarrassment as she hangs there for a moment before he grabs her calves and practically tosses her upwards—apparently cat boy is strong and maybe he’s not so useless after all, maybe she’s the useless one in this situation, she thinks very wryly as she’s hurled upwards, scrambling as she climbs up the ladder. He climbs up quickly after her, even as she hears lumbering, shuffling feet.

She lands on her on the first level, metal fire escape cold even through the thick layer of her jeans, her chest heaving, and she watches, almost dazed, as the boy unhooks the end of the ladder from the floor and just lets it fall, hitting the ground hard. The deafening clang only makes her wince.

And then, they are quiet. The zombies swarm the alleyway beneath them but there’s no way for them to get up onto the emergency exit stairs. He doesn’t even look at her as he gets to his feet and starts climbing the stairs. She sits there for a long, long moment, the hairs at the back of her neck standing on end because of the monsters growling just a couple feet beneath her, before she slowly gets to her feet and follows him. She has to grip the railings to steady herself. She doesn’t dare look down. Her eyes feel dry and she blinks rapidly to attempt to clear them.

They go up, up, up, until they can’t go any further. And then they just sit.

~.~.~.~.~

Day Five

Sunset

22 April

Seoul, South Korea

“Thanks.” She finally breaks the silence. The sun had just begun to set and she had watched it’s slow descent from where they sat on the emergency stairs, her legs folded under her while he sits sprawled out. He had been so quiet, never quite looking at her, and she wondered if maybe the boy didn’t like her.

“I owed you for the tree.” He replies, simply.

She takes a good look at him, the golden tones of the sun washing over him —she’s almost surprised this is the idiot boy who had gotten himself stuck up in a tree and wouldn’t stop shouting for help. He certainly didn’t seem so useless with the escape route just now. She figures maybe he just works better under pressure. She can relate.

He is handsome, and familiar, though she can’t place from where. Despite the dirt and dried blood smudging his face, despite the clear signs of exhaustion under his eyes, he look like someone she might have ogled at a coffee shop or something. Or maybe even stutter over her words when he asked her a question. Frankly, he’s hot. His eyes are almond-shaped, sparkling still, despite their situation. His lips are turned up into a smile, despite the fact that it’s starting to get cold and the sky is rapidly darkening. The golden hour isn’t doing much of a disservice to him. For a brief moment, she is mesmerized.

But then, she pushes the thought from her mind because she does not have time to fumble with her words due to a mild crush, not when they’re on a time limit because of her contacts and they’re surrounded by ing zombies.

(She’ll just stare sometimes. It’s the least the universe can allow her when everything else has been reduced to rubble and entrails. But, this is no time to get distracted.)

“Now we’re even, I guess.” She says, slowly, averting her eyes from his face for a moment, collecting herself, before she turns back to him. Her expression is neutral when he turns to look at her.

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. He just appraises her in a way that is—it’s strange. It’s not the same sort of appraisal she’d normally receive from men, the kind where they’re judging her appearance and rating her in their heads. It’s not objectifying at all. It’s almost analytical, as if he is sizing her up and collecting her stats like he’s some video game character deciding on whether he wants to trust her or not.

(It’s strange, but it’s comforting. She doesn’t even blush. She just blinks at him.)

After a long, long moment, his quiet voice echoes around them, low and almost hesitant, “So why did you want to know if I could read maps?”

“I need to…” She pauses, digging through her pockets before she pulls out the wrinkled, folded up map, “I need to get back home.”

He tilts his head to the side and in the setting sun, the shadows fall over his face strangely, softening his features. He looks confused. “Why?” He asks.

She knows it sounds dumb—her hyper-fixations always do—but she tells him, explains about her contacts, about her high prescription and her glasses sitting in her bedside table. She expects him to laugh at her; she certainly would have to anyone telling her this.

Instead, he says, “That sounds…necessary.”

She blinks, “Necessary?”

He nods, brows furrowing together, expression thoughtful, kind even, “You need to be able to see. That’s important.”

His explanation is so simple and so validating. She frowns at him. She doesn’t know what the hell she’s supposed to do with validation. It’s strangely kind and it reminds her horribly of Jongdae and Seulgi and nearly all her other friends. Her frown deepens. “I thought you’d call it crazy.”

“It kind of is.” He shrugs and the sky behind him darkens into deep blues and purples and the blackest of blacks. He peers at her, eyes quite serious, “But, I mean, everything else in the world is a million times crazier right now, so.” He shrugs. “You sound very reasonable.”

“Oh.” She blinks. She feels like an absolute idiot for feeling a bit choked up at his words, her chest tightening slightly. Maybe this is what happens when she goes so long without any proper human interaction.

There’s another pause, as the sun disappears, and his face is doused in the dimmest of lighting, just barely visible to her. “I can read maps, you know. I used to be a boy scout.”

“Oh.” She repeats. She’s never been at such a loss for words, yet, here she is, all choked up and unable to formulate anything else.

“I’ll help you.” He continues.

This time, she manages an even more eloquent, “Uh?”

He snorts and she frowns at the darkness, her eyes adjusting just enough to be able to spot the outline of him facing her. “Was that a question?”

“Yes. I mean, my apartment is in the heart of Seoul. You’ll probably—it’s dangerous.”

“It’s better than wandering around and getting myself stuck up a tree again.”

She contemplates his words—the offer behind them. She can see him standing up, sidling around her before fiddling with one of the windows of the apartment behind them. She had thought this was a random building, but apparently not. The window latches pop off easily and he slides it open before slinking through the opening.

She follows him, barely missing the soft zipping of a lighter before a flame comes to life inches from her face. The flame dances in the reflections of his eyes and he carefully, so intently, lights up a candle sitting on the nightstand next to the window before he gestures for her to shut the window. She does.

She says, “Is this your apartment?”

He shakes his head, smiling ever so slightly, maybe sadly. “No, it’s my friend’s.” He gestures further into the apartment, “There’s nothing in the kitchen and, uh, one of the rooms is…occupied.”

Just then she hears a slam and a growl coming from within the apartment. Her blood runs cold. She blinks, stares at the boy.

He says, “We can stay the night in here and then leave in the morning.” He glances at her, “If you want.”

She knows the pros far outweigh the cons, even if the very idea of a zombie, one that could possibly be that friend he had mentioned, slamming around in the room right next door to this one, is more than just unsettling, it sets off every survival instinct living deep within her. She just wants to run, but it’s dark and cold out and there’s more danger out there than there is in here.

She swallows the lump in and she nods, silently.

“Sorry.” He mutters.

~.~.~.~.~

Day Six

02:06 AM

23 April

Seoul, South Korea

She can’t sleep.

She doesn’t think he can either.

She wonders how long he’s stayed in this apartment with the living dead version of his friend growling just a couple feet from him.

She whispers, “Why don’t you just kill them?”

She sounds desperate almost. Maybe she is. Her eyes hurt and she is tired, a bone deep exhaustion that stems from being so high strung for so long. Yet, it’s barely been a week. It’s barely been a week. How is she supposed to survive this show?

Maybe he is asleep, maybe he’s gotten used to it, somehow, as sick as it sounds, and that thought alone, it makes her skin crawl and—

“I can’t.” He is soft, barely audible. He let her take the bed—it’s the first time she’s slept in a bed in a while and the sigh that left was embarrassingly loud. He had laughed at her as he settled into the floor. He sounds a thousand years old, “I can’t.”

She has no idea what to say, how to comfort, because she’s always been so bad at it. She’s essentially raised herself and when she needed comfort there was no one to give it. She can only ever draw from the way Seulgi would attempt to comfort her, but that felt so uncomfortable, she wasn’t sure how to go about it. She should say something, she knows, to take away all that pain in his voice. She doesn’t even know him, but he saved her, so she should help.

But all she manages to say is, “You’re hired.”

A pause. She frowns at herself.

“What?” He mutters.

“You said you wanted to read that map, right? Then you’re hired.” She wants to say you won’t have to come back here ever again but she doesn’t because she doesn’t know him, and it’d be weird.

“Okay.” He says, simply.

“Okay.” She repeats.

~.~.~.~.~

Day Six

Sunrise – 06:32 AM

23 April

Seoul, South Korea

She stares at the battery powered wall clock hanging on the wall as light floods into the room. She barely slept. Each time there was a growl or a slam against the wall, she was jolted awake. She sat at the precipice of consciousness the same way she had when she slept behind that counter in the convenience store.

She sits up at the signs of first light. The boy is already awake, sitting cross-legged atop his blankets. She thinks the bags under his eyes make more sense now.

He hands her an empty backpack and a baseball bat. He has his own. She smiles in thanks. The growls haven’t subsided, they’ve only seemed to have grown louder, more hectic, as if the sun has awoken the zombie from lethargy.

She stares at the wall behind which the boy’s friend is trapped and she can almost imagine the friend, unrecognizable, flesh decaying, slamming stupidly against the wall, over and over and over again like those zombies had done against the car she was lying under after Jongdae and Simba disappeared.

She’s still dazed, quiet, as she states, “Lee Sojin.”

She doesn’t add much more, knowing that she must sound like she’s trying to be edgy and cool. Frankly, she’s just exhausted and she can barely piece together proper sentences. She barely remembered her full name for a moment there.

“Minseok.” The boy smiles and it’s a proper smile, all gummy and sweet, kind. “Kim Minseok.”

She nods. There’s another dull thud behind the wall and she jumps a little at the sudden sound. The serenity of the sunlight of a new day pouring thru the window, illuminating the clean, almost bare bedroom, is broken by a low, drawn out snarl. The boy—Minseok—rolls his eyes and mutters, “And that’s Lu Han.”

“Ah.” She nods, “Well, I’m not going to miss him.”

Minseok snorts but there is really no humor in his eyes. It’s a little morbid to laugh. She feels bad because of how sad and tired he looks. But, still, he says, too cheerily for what lays beyond this room, “Let’s go find your glasses before you go blind.”

“Please.” She mumbles, blinking away the tightness in her eyes, her vision blurring slightly at the dryness.

Minseok grins, slipping out the window first.

a/n: omg sorry I haven't updated this in SO long, I actually forgot about this fic lmao ksfndjsan, but anyways, here's a short chapter and I will try to get back to regularly scheduled chapters for this. I hope the pacing is still good, I'm iffy on it. thank you!!!!