september 2020. welcome to the void.

[modblob]

Who: Everyone in Anchor.
What: Monthly Mingle
When: The Month of September 2020
Where: Around and outside the city.
Warnings: Please add any warnings in the subject lines.

Redshift: Welcome to the v͖͕̺̲̘̱̜͎o̴̦̣̠̦̘̹͞i̯̖d̛̪̬͈̱̦̝͍̕.

Click here to read what characters will experience when arriving in Anchor.

a. the shuffling.

It's dark.

No, like, really dark.

Not only have the lights of the suns been extinguished, but the lights of Anchor are fading as well. It seems the skies are shifting again, and taking Anchor's solar power with them, again. The lights don't fade entirely, leaving Anchor basked in a grayish glow with shadows painting unpleasant shapes along the walls. In parts of Anchor, the emergency lights have come on, illuminating the areas around them in red.

You could be forgiven for assuming the first shadow you see moving is your imagination. But the second or third? And what's that soft moaning noise coming from some of the vents? At first, there's no answer to that question. Then they start appearing.

Zombies. It seems that the cemetery outside was occupied after all. Though not brain-eating, fast-moving zombies, they move in packs, and they're smart. The more of them in one place, the more intelligent their hunting and planning seems to be. Get cornered, and you might find yourself in pieces, in need of new limbs or, y'know, a new life...

If they get a bite in, it's not as bad as your typical zombie apocalypse, but you're in for an unpleasant ride - hallucinations of people you hate will drive you to attack anyone and anything that comes near you. Either that, or visions of people you've failed or disappointed will haunt you. These hallucinations are invisible to everyone else, and last no less than a day.

b. somebody to love.

Maybe the worst part of the zombie invasion, though, is that these are people you recognize. Not all of them, many of the faces of the shambling dead will be completely unfamiliar, but a lot of them are people from home. Loved ones, mortal enemies, and everyone in between. If they get close to you, their almost-familiar voices will start calling your name. Are they still in there? Is it worth finding out?

It's not just faces from home, either. The man from the welcome video shows up in zombie form frequently enough that there has to be more than one, and there's even multiple versions of Creepy Joe limping around, body unmarred by tentacles. Every now and again, pink-haired woman with a familiar voice and a long white dress will shamble out of seemingly nowhere. Endless double-faces, a city's worth of doppelgangers. Some of them seem drawn to places that were significant to them. Others wander aimlessly, making low, sad moaning sounds.

c. home sweet home.

One of the zombies has done the residents of Anchor a favor, though. It walked straight into one of the power generators and shorted it out, releasing the locks on the doors to the fancy apartments down at the base of the city, near the park.

These are multi-level condos with windows that face toward the park and gardens. Each suite has a private bathroom including a tub and shower, a miniature kitchen, and two to three bedrooms. Each one is furnished in soothing pale colors with high-quality furniture.

They're all fit to inhabit, too - if you don't mind the occasional laser scoring on the wall, or that streak of perfectly preserved dried blood. It seems even this place wasn't immune to what happened in the rest of the colony. But there's no sign of anyone being locked in, either. No bodies, no rotting smells, not even dried husks. Just colonial luxury splashed with violence. And the occasional lost zombie.

d. the walking robo-dead.

Even the robots aren't immune to what's going on, it seems. Whenever one comes into contact with a zombie, it seems to short out, going offline until the offending monster has left the area. When it slowly comes back to life, it rolls about drunkenly, slamming into walls, people, and guard rails with equal lazy force. Sooner or later most of the bots in Anchor are affected, wandering aimlessly, trying to serve you sluggishly and usually doing it wrong, or - oh dear, that one's rolling to the edge of one of the upper walkways. You should probably stop it.

Unless you're Kabal or Starscream, then you can just watch it roll over the edge and smash into a million pieces at the bottom, you animal.

Navigation.

Comments

[bakudan_bambino]

One second, Takeshi is a faint blur of blue down the hall, the next he is standing close to Gokudera, grabbing him and throwing him into the nearest room.

He lets out a disgruntled shout, folding himself so he doesn't hurt when he lands, and gets up. Gokudera isn't dying right this instance, for Christ's sake! He's watching as Uri stalks about the door, hell-bent on protecting him. Even as Yamamoto kills the zombie version of his teacher, the leopard is circling. It sits by the door, growling, blood dripping from its mouth. It'll eventually fade back into storm flames and return to the wounded boy, but not yet. It's got to keep them both safe.

"Idiot, if you die, I'll never forgive you!" He growls and grabs Takeshi's chin with his uninjured hand, forcing him to look him in the eye so he can explain his current state.

"It's the knives that're making it bleed so badly. I'm using my flames to slow it down." He explains, calm and practical as ever. Gokudera unwraps his wound, glancing about the apartment they're stuck in. It has a kitchen, and he rinses the wound off, cringing at the sting in the bend of his fingers. The bite doesn't look too bad, really. It's mildly discolored, and he pats it all dry before turning back to Takeshi.

"Did you forget that I can heal myself, too?" He says with a smirk, fatigue in his eyes. Uri starts to shrink at the door, the growling quieting. Gokudera offers his hand to Takeshi and picks up one of the fabric strips he'd made. He clenches his hand, working sun flames through his blood, which as they both know, speeds up whatever it touches. Suddenly, that bite discolors further, and he claps a hand over it, stopping all of the flames at once. Uri vanishes, the blood starts anew, and he's realizing that he's a lot worse off than he thought.

[tsuyoi_ame]

Yamamoto has seen zombie movies, he knows what a bite does to a person okay. He is not dumb enough to think that just because in the real world zombies don't exist that means these ones won't carry the same disease as movie ones.

And that means, rather Gokudera realizes it or not, he is dying, right now, it is already starting inside of his body and Yamamoto has to find a way to save him. The very thought of losing him is like a knife in the baseball player's chest and when his chin is grabbed his eyes say it all.

"I'm fine, none of them touched me. It's you we need to worry about." He is firm, resolute, he knows he kept them back, he went into a hyper mode where failure simply was not an option and his body knew what to do.

Right his sun flames, Yamamoto had not thought of those and he takes that offered hand, pulling himself up then it all goes to hell in an instant and Yamamoto realizes his life has just become a horror movie.

If Sun flames only make it worse, that means it won't heal, it can't heal.

"Hayato..." It's all he can say as he looks at his boyfriend, reaching out he takes a hold of his injured arm, if Uri is gone that means Hayato's strength is fading and faster than it should be no matter how long he battled. He takes one of the strips, his fingers steady despite the panic in him. He begins to wrap his boyfriend's wound, offering a bright smile, he would apologize that it does not reach his eyes if he could. But right now he has to focus on staying positive, it's going to be okay. It has to be okay.

"We'll stop the blood, I'll call Julie she knows about zombies maybe she can help." The thing is, in everything he has ever known about zombies, the one theme that stays the same.

There is no cure.

[bakudan_bambino]

Gokudera wants to kiss him, but he can't. He's worried if he does, that they'll both realize that this is actually as wrong as it could be. Sure, he's not getting ripped apart by a zombie hoard. He's not getting eaten alive. He can hear the zombies outside of the room shuffling about, unable to get in with the door locked and barricaded. There's panic in his eyes.

He made it worse!

He tried to heal it and he just sped it up, and his arm doesn't look great, but it's not looking like it's going to fall off.

But he feels weak, tenses his jaw and looks up at his given name, away from his wound as his arm is taken. His eyes focus on Takeshi, and then something behind him. There is really no one behind him, so he closes his eyes tightly. He's seeing things. He feels sick and he's seeing things, and he's scared.

"I... I need to lie down." He doesn't want his possible final resting place to be on the floor. Even if it's a fucking table, he doesn't want to be on the floor. Doesn't want to feel like trash. "If we call Julie, she's going to have to face the hoard out there," He says, faking his calm and trying to move up so he can get on one of the couches or even into another room, to find a bed, or... anything that is not the floor.

"I'm not-" Gokudera doesn't want to be weak, doesn't want help, feels like he's going to be treated tenderly and he can't handle that right now. "I'm not staying here. Takeshi. I just need to... to lie down for a minute." He knows that he'll turn. That's how it usually goes in zombie movies, right?

Sure, Takeshi could probably fly them out through the window of this apartment, up to a higher level with more radiation and less zombies. But he knows his time is limited, and he doesn't want to attack his boyfriend.

"Then... I..." He's at the couch, moves to lie down, wanting to be on his side and facing Takeshi. But instead, he simply falls onto his back, resting on the couch and taking slow, deep breaths to try and calm, to slow everything down. Gokudera has to just... savor what he can.

"I can die and just... come back, right?" He says softly. "That... that could happen back on Amoi. If you could afford it, you could just have yourself brought back. I'm not a mongrel anymore... this world brought me here for something, right?" There are figures standing around, glaring, disapproving, disappointed. He can hear them talking, but he's focusing on Takeshi.

"If I..."

Gokudera closes his eyes, shakes his head softly in apology. What does he have to be sorry for?

"If I don't come back... like Genji did?" He smiles and there's a moisture to his eyes. "If I don't... I need you to keep something for me."

[tsuyoi_ame]

That they come from a world that showed them pain and darkness is undeniable. But it never not once prepared Yamamoto for this. The only thing that keeps him from falling apart, Hayato needs him, and he has to be there for him. He may not want to be treated tenderly, but his boyfriend can do nothing else. Rather they kiss or not; the oblivious seeming ballplayer is anything, but he knows Julie can't help; he knows as he watches the other he is slipping.

His heart stops in his chest, clenches in tight and nearly kills him at the thought, he can't take this, there's no way. There has to be hope, but he can see the weakness, his fingers reaching out for Hayato as he does what he always does, stubbornly tries to be strong and not depend on anyone.

"Stop..don't.." Don't hurt yourself, let me help you, he wants to say, but it's too late, Hayato has collapsed on the couch, and all he can do is go to him. Kojirou and Jirou both backing away, the dog flattening his ears and giving a soft whine. If Yamamoto did not already know, that would have told him. The pup can smell better than any of them.

He drops to his knees beside the couch, kneeling so he can be close, but the other can still see his face, he can look in his eyes.

"Don't say that, you'll come back just like Genji did, I won't let this be it." This can't be it; he has so many promises left to keep to Hayato. So much love left to give him, and it's welling up inside of him.

Don't ask him to keep anything, don't say goodbye, and for a moment; he can not be strong; Hayato may not have wanted a kiss, but Yamamoto could never forgive himself if he does not. He crashes his lips against the others, kissing him deeply, desperately, if only for a moment. Because there are no guarantees, Genji may have come back because he is a cyborg, Hayato is decidedly human.

When he breaks the kiss, he takes the bomber's hands, in one of his eyes, holding back tears that threaten to blur his vision, he will not miss one second of seeing the other's face, no matter what it takes to hold on—his other hand cards softly through silver locks.

"Whatever you need, I'll do it...." Those are the most challenging words he has ever said in his life but wasting time pretending this is not happening only takes precious moments he has; he can not do that because he does not know for sure he'll have them again, what if this is forever and he wastes what's left by arguing about it all being alright. He'd never survive that, so whatever his boyfriend needs, Yamamoto Takeshi will do.

[bakudan_bambino]

Gokudera is looking into Takeshi's eyes as deeply as he can manage. There is movement behind his boyfriend, more hushed words, angry, abusive. He's failed, they always knew he'd never amount to anything. No one would want him, and he's just going to be more trouble. His eyes well with tears. He's going to turn into a monster. He's going to hurt Takeshi, and the kiss steals his focus but breaks the dam holding his emotions back.

He can be honest. He has to be. "I'm not ready to leave you... You've left me over and over and now I have to.." Gokudera's biting at his bottom lip. "And I don't want to..." He feels ill, dizzy, can still see those people, are they spirits? Is he going to have to face them on his own, now? "I don't want to turn, and hurt you so..." He keeps his hands in Takeshi's, uses them to pull them so he can litter kisses on his knuckles.

"Grab my collar. There's a metal piece inside. Press on it with your thumb, and pull." He remembers having it first put on. Gokudera remembers wearing it with pride. He'd be safe as long as he wore it, but now... maybe if it stays behind, it'll be some way for him to find his way back.

"You won't hurt me." He knows that Takeshi has not liked his collar, but when he pulls, after a moment of warmth beneath his thumbs, he will find it does not resist. "It won't, either." In fact, it'll slide off, deactivated completely with just the scan of his thumbprint. There is information carved into metal, very small and almost worn out. The swordsman would need a magnifying glass to read.

"I've been yours for years." He was taken in several times by Yamamoto, taken care of, and every time he left, he'd come back and he'd promise that he wouldn't leave again. This is the same Yamamoto. Despite whatever worlds they've been on, whatever they've been through, when he looks at him all he can remember is every time he's been held by Yamamoto. How it'd felt to be told he was loved, to be kissed by him, to be treated like he was the only person that ever mattered.

And he has to leave, and he doesn't want to, and the tears will not stop, and he's just growing more and more tired. "I love you. I have to come back. Just keep that, so I can, and I'll remember everything. Plus... it's got the Tenth's ring on it," He says and smiles. "We worked really hard to get it, and he's probably looking for it..." And he can hear his boss's voice telling him that he doesn't want it back. That he's happy he won't have to deal with him. Why the FUCK does everything have to hurt so badly?!

"I... I'm going to..." He sniffles, takes a deep breath. "Burn my heart. So it will be quick." It will also be painful, and his lungs might get caught with the same dying will. He doesn't know. "But I don't want to hurt you. Uh-" It's getting hard to speak. He can taste blood, can't really feel himself as well as he did before. "Understand?"

[tsuyoi_ame]

Yamamoto can not see anything but his boyfriend, those green eyes ripping into his soul as he fears this may be the last time he gets to look into them. Of course, the chance that he will return is there, but how does a grief-stricken heart even think of that. It doesn't, and it's as if he is hyper-aware, tunnel vision one could say. The world is nothing but his first and only love, the one person he would give anything for. Yes, he has bonded with other people, yes he has a family. But Hayato has become his everything, his reason for being is wrapped so tightly within the bomber that it is like feeling a piece of himself sliced and left to rot and decay before it falls off.

Then don't...I never want to leave you, I need you He thinks it. Still, he does not let himself say it because they can not stop this; Hayato is going to die, and for Yamamoto to beg him to stay would only make it hurt worse, would only add his pain onto what his boyfriend is going through and he can not be that selfish. When those lips he loves so much litter kisses upon his knuckles, his breath stops, he tries desperately to remember the touch, to lock it inside himself where he can pull it out to remember when it's gone.

"What?" His eyes go wide, Hayato wants him to remove his collar, his brain takes a moment, all the words sinking in as he stares in shock at his boyfriend. If not for the waves of grief already tearing his soul to pieces, his love for the young man dying right in front of his eyes, Yamamoto may be angry. All along, he could have removed that collar, every time it hurt Hayato, every time he spoke, and it reacted, he should have known, how could he not. And Hayato, Hayato, held onto it because it was his. After all, it marked him as Yamamoto's.

Idiot...you're mine without the collar. Why would you do that? I could have accidentally killed you. Again he does not say it out loud, broken-hearted as it may make him know the truth; it is nothing compared to knowing what's coming in front of him. What it does, however, do is break the dam, and at that moment, a tear frees itself from his eye, making a slow trek down his cheek as he reaches out.

"You'll come back; I won't give up till we're together again, I swear it." He does not know what he can do, but he will do something, anything to not let this be the end. Finally, he places his thumb as he was instructed, he swallows not yet pulling as he looks into Hayato's eyes. He is not sure what hurts more that he kept the truth from him or that he kept it because it was a piece of them, proof of what Yamamoto knew the moment they admitted their feelings, they are meant to be. Not that it matters, those are tomorrow's problems; today's grief swallows him whole the moment the words I love you leave Hayato's mouth.

After the word understand Yamamoto nods, he leans down, pressing his forehead to Hayato's as he finally does what was asked of him and slides his thumb against the metal piece, the collar coming free right as he kisses his boyfriend softly again. He does not move back. Instead, he pulls the collar away and grips the collar tight enough for the metal to dig into his thumb. He is grounding himself before he speaks.

"I love you; I will be right here waiting, so don't take too long coming back to me." Come back to me; please come back because he can not do this without Hayato; if he does not come back, Yamamoto, for all his resiliency, is not sure he will be able to handle it. He tilts his chin in, one last soft kiss to his boyfriend's lips. He can not stop the tears; he can not find any words to say except to gather slender digits in his own, release the collar and cup his hand against Hayato's cheek and stay there, forehead to forehead, so their eyes never leave each other.

"I understand..." But Hayato will have to understand to, even if this shatters him and he knows it will, he is not leaving, he will not leave this place as his final resting place, and he will not let his boyfriend face his final moments alone. He would burn with him before he would allow that to happen.

[bakudan_bambino]

Gokudera feels like he's been an anchor. Wherever he's gone, Takeshi has been there. He flows about carefree, laughing and smiling and making everyone happy, and all Gokudera's ever been good at is sinking down, holding fast. He's reliable, the voices around him say otherwise. Gokudera's earnest nature means that everything he's done has a lot of heart behind it. No one cares. We just knew you'd be a little useful, and now that you're not, it's good we get to throw you away. He finally found someone to love him. You're only important to him because you're the only piece of home he has, and you were too stupid to avoid getting bitten.

Some Right-Hand you are. You can't even protect yourself. It's Tsuna's voice, and Gokudera chokes. He's looking at Takeshi still, but all around them, creeping up behind him are these figures. He wants to lash out at them, to deny what they're saying. Instead his eyes glance about, these are people he knows all standing behind Takeshi, speaking things that bring him down.

"No..." He croaks, color draining from his face. I don't tend to boys, says Shamal's voice, his doctor, his mentor. "I don't care... I just want him to be safe. I'm sorry. I- I can't-" Gokudera tries to sit up, the collar sliding from his neck nothing more than an idle sensation in his wild mind. He's seeing things, but what stops them from being real?

All this time, Gokudera could have been spared the pain. Upon first meeting Yamamoto, could have just said 'hey can you take this off for me?' and then the collar would have deactivated, would not be able to channel between them whenever his owner was upset or happy. From first seeing the swordsman, Gokudera was feeling beside himself. That they'd be together again, like soulmates, and then... to find that this was not the same person, to have to bottle everything up. He should have told him sooner. But that reminder to him, no matter how dangerous his collar was, told him about everything they'd been through together.

No matter where or when, he's always been in love with Takeshi. He's not his property, but the collar is more than that. It holds so much between them, things he wants to share, to smile about. He wants to load it with more of their experiences together. There may be a way to unlock memories or visions, if the swordsman wants to have it inspected. It would hurt, but it would be a sort of bittersweet love letter for him, like watching a collection of scenes recorded from the second it was activated.

Gokudera doesn't know it's grown so literally attached to him that it holds such data. It's been a comfort.

He closes his eyes tight, and stops looking at the other people in the room. "Takeshi, just stay in Anchor. Not here. What's there.." Gokudera turns his head, grazing his forehead against the other boy's. "What if I come back and you're a zombie, huh?" He smiles and kisses Takeshi back. He's scared and unable to hide it. He loves him and doesn't plan on hiding it. "When I come back, you better not be in this room."

The tears are stopping. Now it's just fear and hesitation. His body feels odd, and there's a sort of pain radiating through him. Gokudera has never activated the flames inside himself aside from to heal or numb. To destroy, to completely disintegrate from the inside out... It's scary. It's going to hurt. A lot. Can he even will something like that? "I love you," He says and clenches his fists

He doesn't want to will this, doesn't want to die. Gokudera just wants to kill whatever disease this is inside him so that he can't hurt Takeshi. There's no way he'll turn and join that hoard. With his dying will he has to destroy himself. He has to keep him safe. He can visualize what he wants, but more than that, has to keep in mind that Takeshi will be there with him. The flame is like a spark, a warm heat in his chest that suddenly grows suffocating.

Gokudera gasps, pushes at Takeshi to get away with all the strength he can muster, because this is worse than he thought. He doesn't think he can contain it, and doesn't want to.

The sound that leaves his mouth is rattled, the sort of roar that accompanies fire burning away at paper, and then there's a crack when he tries to cough. Blood and smoke come out of his mouth and he writhes. His chest is literally glowing, pink and red and black flames spreading beneath his skin, and suddenly he's still. Gokudera's eyes are still open, wide in fear and pain, and the fire continues, charring at his flesh, at hair, at clothing and the upholstery on the couch. His skin is black, accessories hanging off of him.

The rings rest on burning fingers, and the smell is not entirely unpleasant, oddly reminiscent of a pig before it's going out almost as soon as it started. Without a will to light it, without much of a person left to engulf, it leaves Gokudera's body little more than a charred husk, his legs and face mostly unharmed except for the blood that had boiled up and out of his mouth.

His jaw twitches and he shifts, reaching over with a hand that has rings sliding and falling to a clatter on the floor.

[tsuyoi_ame]

Yamamoto can not hear those words, or he would tell Hayatao how wrong they are; he is fierce, reliable; he is impressive, and the baseball player knows no one better if you ask him. When the bomber cares, when he opens up, he has so much to give, and he has grown, so much from the young man he met that first day. He is not just useful; he is irreplaceable within the family, and within Yamamoto Takeshi's heart, call him young, say he can not know, but he does. There is no doubt in his mind that he can never, will never, have loved someone as much as he does Hayato; he was too late if he had been faster. Had he taken less time to be carefree, laughing, smiling as he worked his way through hordes, then maybe, just maybe he could have been there when Bel fell through that ceiling or perhaps he could have been in the range for his flames to reach.

Instead, now he is watching his heart die before his very eyes and saying the words he feels in his heart. He just wanted to keep him safe, he promised Hayato he would, that they would be together. That he wouldn't let anything tear them apart and yet, here, he sits, letting that exact thing happen.

Please forgive him, please let him learn to forgive himself for what he has done. Why didn't he get here sooner, but that is his pain to face, right now, now it is about the young man in front of him, the young man he aches to take hin his arms once last time.

But they don't have that luxury, do they, whatever is infecting his blood is moving too quickly, and if Hayato is going to die himself, then there is no time to hold him, to tell him everything he wants to say, to beg him to be his forever. To say to him that no matter what happened with the collar, he loves him, he will always love him.

"I won't go anywhere, I promise, don't worry about me." Through the tears, he lights up with that bright smile of his, forgive him that his eyes still show his pain, that he still aches so deep inside and is unable to do anything about it. "I'll be at the base, waiting for you, that's where we'll meet okay, and I'll check my device every hour of every day in case you call for me." He wants to tell Hayato to stop, that he does not have to be the one to do this, but he knows that offering will only lead to an argument, and he wants the last words they say to be the ones they mean the most.

"I love you. I will always love you and only you."

His body pulls tight at the clenched fist; he knows what Hayato has to do, he knows what he is willing to life inside himself, and it is killing Yamamoto, he can not breathe, he can not move, he can not look away. He can not do anything; he is completely and utterly useless. All he can do is wait, wait, and then make sure that no matter what, Hayato does not become one of those creatures outside the door.

No matter how hard he is pushed, Yamamoto is not going. He will take a burn mark, he will hurt for this, but he will move from Hayato's side unless he is dead himself. The sounds take over his mind, his eyes locked in terror on his boyfriend's face, and for a moment, Yamamoto is frozen there, held in a moment and ready to follow his love off this mortal coil because the very thought of leaving this room without him is more than he can stand.

A strangled sob when rings tumble to the floor, and he lunges forward, fingers capturing that precious face in his hands. He loses himself; it is no more than a second because he knows he does not have long, Jirou's whine behind him as he nudges Yamamoto, Shigure Kintoki in his mouth tells the swordsman the truth, and yet, how does he do it, how can he possibly take the blade his father gave him and use it on the person who holds his heart, he shudders at the thought his body and mind at war, one knowing what needs to be done, the other refused.

"I love you...." He says the words to a now empty room, a now-empty existence because if Hayato does not come back, he has nothing left.

"Come back to me..." With that, his blade goes from bamboo to steel, the eyes of his close as the tip reaches the point it needs to before he can, he kisses Hayato's forehead one last time.

"Forgive me for failing you...."

The motion is swift; the blade enters and severs the brain stem instantly, as quickly as it did to the zombie of his former mentor. The difference is, this slide of the blade, the sound as it enters, as it pulls free, the fluid on it when it drops to the ground at his side and falls forward, barely missing falling on top of what remains of his boyfriend, these are the sights and sounds that will haunt his dreams, he does not know that he will ever escape them.

[bakudan_bambino]

Gokudera feels he should blame himself for what has happened. If he hadn't gone off on his own, he wouldn't have been alone, trapped in a hallway between zombies and... more zombies. He should have reached out to Takeshi sooner. They were both fine, could have found each other sooner if he'd stayed put. But he's never been one to be keen on waiting for other people, for depending on anyone other than himself.

And now he's sorry that Takeshi has to watch him, is with him while this is happening. Each time Gokudera had been left on his own, Takeshi simply vanished. No trace. If he were killed in fighting the zombies, or done something like this on his own, he'd hope for the other to not see him. True, it would be painful to not say goodbye, but Gokudera has never gotten the chance to do so.

Despite the pain roaring through him with like literal fire, he clings onto the words he hears. Even if he comes back and doesn't remember this feeling, so long as he comes back... that's all that matters. It's too hot to cry, too painful and sudden to make a noise, and the scene he leaves behind is even worse.

Gokudera's body is crumbling, little more than an ash left of his ribs when his head is taken, kissed, and his brain forces him to try and bite. He feels nothing, of course, and the severing draws a blank, confused expression to his face, eyes half open. Takeshi will find that all he can hold onto is literally the head of his boyfriend. Everything else save for his rings disintegrating, turning to ash.

And there's still some weight left to what is left of him. The flames are gone, but Gokudera's will had been to destroy the disease completely. Despite his zombie brain being destroyed, every bit of him is turning to ash. There is no more fire, or heat. Takeshi is grasping skin, fine hair, a face that once smiled at him, and it's all going gray and crumbling.

There is nothing left except his rings to his weapons, the collar in Takeshi's hand, and scorch marks on the couch. It may still be warm, but there is nothing else, no noise aside from the shuffling of zombies on the other side of the door, smelling and searching Takeshi out.

The rings are inactive, but the collar faintly glows, registering recognition at the swordsman's touch. Takeshi may be able to feel an electric current, as though it is searching for the chip that was destroyed in Gokudera's neck.

[tsuyoi_ame]

Yamamoto would never accept that; he should have protected the other. He failed, and nothing will change his mind; in this moment, the heartache they are both going through is because he failed in the one thing that meant more to him than anything, keeping the person he loves more than life itself safe. It does not matter that Hayato did not wait for him; Yamamoto knows the young man he fell in love with and would never expect anything less of him; he was not one to sit and wait; he is a fighter. Always has been long before Yamamoto Takeshi picked up a sword for what he thought was a game.

If this has to happen, there is nowhere else Yamamoto would want to be; this is where he belongs. Wherever Hayato is, that is where he belongs, now, tomorrow, forever, there is no other place for Yamamoto in this world but at his boyfriend's side, and now he has to find a way to move forward even for a limited time without him. He has no idea how to do this; the grief is all-consuming, sinking in and bleeding the life from his body.

Hayato can come back with no memory of them, but Yamamoto will not forget, and he will win him over again; he will not let go. No matter the state the bomber returns to him in, Yamamoto will love him and find a way for them to build their life together, the life Hayato deserves, the life he promised him.

But first, he has to survive his boyfriend, literally slipping through his fingers and turning into nothing more than the things he left behind, not even ash for Yamaoto to reach out and touch; it is all gone, everything and for a moment, he can do nothing more than fall forward, his heart sobbing from him onto the couch in this abandoned apartment, the joy fading from his eyes as slowly, piece by piece he begins to shut himself off. He cries till there is nothing left, he cries as he picks up the collar, unable to snap it around his neck the way his bomber wore it. Instead he winds it around his arm, numb, unaware of any electrical hum as it searches for the same thing his heart searches for, Hayato. He gathers those rings and places them into his pocket.

He takes one breath and the he prepares to do the only thing he can, fight till he is so exhausted he can pass out and hope that soon Hayato returns, because he does not know if he can endure what he feels inside. Instead, he flicks a switch, shuts himself down, and goes into battle mode; there is no other choice.


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