Serpentine

四

The air was too tense for [M/N] to decipher. Everything was so viciously shoved in front of him there wasn't time to actually swallow. But he could smell a stench of vileness from the outskirts, and that alone, scared him.

[M/N] ran through the streets, letting his nose guide. He pushed through some stacked fire wood and stepped on them as he just turned the corner.

He clenched his teeth so tightly, his teeth threaten to wedge into his gums.

And he ran, and ran, and ran around the entire village, ignoring the villagers when they looked out of their windows. They didn't deserve his time, not at all. They were disgusting to him, devilish, he couldn't even look at their faces because he didn't want to see demons yet. Their eyes follow him like he's some bunraku, like some beauty on a stage that's made for them to applause in the end, like they've watched this particular favored scene so many times before that their anticipation grows into excitement.

This was just the rising action to the shamisen that's plucked so faintly with the snow and the taiko like the winds.

When it became midday, he finally rested against the town well, catching his breath between gasps and pounded his chest with his fist to cough out some spit. Behind him, Chinami and Kiyoshi-fishing rod in hand- were slowly following.

"[M/N], please! Wait for us!" Chinami yelled, her face red from sweat. "You're so fast! We already had to leave Hikaru-kun behind!" she wheezed.

"I don't think I can run anymore!" Kiyoshi coughed, spitting in the snow. "I can't breathe." So Chinami smacked his back, hard.

The albino stayed quiet, steadying the rapid breathing from his chest, slowing to soft, subdued breaths. "Please, [M/N], you're freezing, I can tell." His fingers were red, his nose, too. When a breeze came his whole body trembled but what could a little cold affect him. His anger fueled a furnace warm for his body.

[M/N] paid no attention to his friends, once he regained energy, his endurance took him away, leaving the other two near the well.

The two got up and followed.

The snow heaviness intensified when the clouds started to conspire together and they schemed, they threw themselves over the skies, and worked with the winds to bring in frost. Slowly, his body was getting worked up from the cold, from how hard it was pushing against the wind to how his feet shivered when it sank into snow.

He was nearing the town square now, pushing, pushing his body until a smell of smoke could never be more clear than now. A odor that burned his nose, setting his lungs aflame. It was a foul smell, like rotting pork flesh, and it stank the air like some mold.

Fire wasn't a good sign. He hated fire. He swallowed hard and pushed on.

His toes were numb when he entered the square, his zori couldn't stand against the elements. The lack of strength tolled on his movement, and instead of running to investigate, his feet froze at seconds, so slow, so weakly trudging through snow falling on his toes.

A wind came blowing into his face, and another breeze played between his legs, in this moment he realized he was helpless to the cold. Even his blinks were too slow for his eyes to not dry. He wanted to go home. At home was a blanket, at home was some leftover soup, at home was some tabi for his vulnerable toes. And he, selfishly, thought of turning around.

How could he think about something like that, or even entertain the thought because home wasn't a place to him. His home was his Gyutaro and Ume, and they were warmer than any tobi or blanket, and they gratified him more than any soup could fill his stomach.

So he wandered for a bit, clearly disgruntled by the scrunch of his brows and the dazed look in his eyes as his arms cling on to each other. No one was here.