Take Your Hands Off My Neck and Hold On To the Ghost Of My Body

I Dream Of Fireworks and Your Touch

Muichiro scrambled towards an abandoned building, kicking up dust behind him.

"Shit" He hissed, eyes darting around for an escape route.

The sound of low, pained groans was nearing, elevating his state of panic.

He frantically twisted the dust covered doorknob, begging it to open.

When it didn't open, Muichiro turned his attention to one of the windows.

Fuck it.

He grabbed a large rock that was sitting in the dust and launched it into the glass, shattering it.

Each second that he wasted the hoard was getting closer.

Muichiro grasped the window frame, shards of glass cutting into his palms as he pulled himself through the window.

He winced as the glass dug further into his skin.

After a few seconds he managed to completely pull himself through and take his hands from the window frame.

He slid against the wall, cradling his cut hands as he listened to the zombies outside.

Silently Muichiro dug around inside his backpack, grabbing a roll of bandages.

"I swear to god please don't let it be infected or something." He whispered while he wrapped his hands tenderly. If it became infected, Muichiro may as well just die on the spot.

The boy sighed. He had no idea what had happened to the world. Everything was so simple when all he had to worry about were demons. Then without warning everything had become a zombie wasteland.

He thought back to when it all started. Muichiro would remember it for the rest of his life.

Sitting outside, the moonlight shining down on him. Genya.

Genya Shinazugawa had confessed his love for Muichiro that night.

It had seemed like something out of a fairy tale.

The thought brought tears to his eyes.

He had been so happy. Then it all happened.

Muichiro hadn't seen anyone he knew for so long.

His focus shifted back to hoard outside. The things were dumb, as long as he stayed quiet they wouldn't find him. He could just wait them out.

~_______________________________________~

After what seemed like a decade, the hoard finally moved on, leaving Muichiro alone to his own devices.

Groaning, he stood up and stretched his legs.

He was more careful about getting out the window this time, hopping out without cutting his hands.

The area was so empty, devoid of life. It was funny to think that this used to be buzzing with life.

Muichiro kicked at the rocks as he walked, looking at the dusty buildings. It had only been a few months, but looking at the state of everything you'd assume it had been a year at least.

It doesn't take long for the world to crumble.

Muichiro slung his backpack onto one arm so he could dig around it, pulling out his canteen of water. He brought it to his lips, sipping at the precious liquid.

Looking at it brought him dread. He was almost out of water. If he didn't fill up soon he'd be a dead man.

Putting the canteen away, he looked up at the orange tinted sky. The sun was setting.