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

I Know You

Notes:

AHHHHH I ACCIDENTALLY UNBLOCKED A03 AT SCHOOL AGAIN >:]

anyways new chapter

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When Muichiro awoke, his first instinct was to sort through his newly acquired supplies.

The backpack was sat on his lap as he sorted everything out in front of him.

There was a variety of fruits and vegetables, plus some rotten meat wrapped carefully in cloth, which he would have to get rid of soon (Just not yet, at risk of attracting a hoard.)

There were also a few slices of bread, which surprisingly were yet to go moldy.

If he rationed everything well enough, it should be enough to last him around a week.

The food wasn't what had caught his attention most though, as buried in the bottom of the bag was a pack of slightly squished cigarettes, accompanied by a lighter and a half empty bottle of what he assumed was alcohol.

Muichiro had never really seen a cigarette before, none of the Hashira were in the habit of smoking, at risk of damaging their lungs and not being able to perform breathing techniques.

He was however, slightly familiar with alcohol. The Hashira hang outs typically involved alcohol of some kind. After a few hours the only sober people left in the room would be him and Sanemi. For some unknown reason Sanemi refused to touch the stuff. Muichiro on the other hand 'wasn't allowed to'. Not that it had stopped him from stealing a couple sips after everyone was too drunk to pay attention. If he was old enough to risk his life as a Hashira, he was old enough to have a tiny bit of a drink.

As he packed everything neatly back into the bag, Muichiro couldn't help but scowl. All this crap, and still not a single article of clothing. At this point he would be willing to wear a dress if it meant he wouldn't be shirtless anymore.

He had tried on Genya's Yukata, realising that it was basically a shirt. Unfortunately he had forgotten that the older boy was much, much larger. The Yukata didn't fit him at all.

With a huff he stacked it into the bag along with the gun, which was useless as well, with only a single bullet left.

..........................................

Muichiro's feet were killing him.

He hadn't rested once in the hours he had spent walking, so when he finally took refuge in the tall grass near the dirt path, it felt like heaven.

He pulled open the bag, fishing out a slice of bread and taking a bite. It was disgustingly stale, not that he expected anything different.

He refrained from snacking on the fruits, reminding himself he would need them later.

The Cigarettes and alcohol were looking particularly tempting at this point, and Muichiro reluctantly opened the box, turning a cigarette over in his hands. Technically, he didn't need breathing styles now. And besides, whats the worst one cigarette could do?

It took the lighter a few clicks before it finally flickered to life, and he held it to the end of the cigarette, watching it blacken.

He held it to his lips, but dropped it almost immediately, coughing and sputtering.

Hesitating for a moment, he picked it back up, pushing dirt over the embers.

Slower this time, he raised it to his lips again, breathing in and out slowly.

It stung his lungs, but the smoke wafting through the air reminded him of the mist that would surround his sword.

In a weird way, it was comforting.

He swung the backpack back over his shoulder, jumping back up to continue on his walk to nowhere.

...........................................................................

Muichiro eyed the rising smoke in the distance sceptically. It wasn't from him, he was sure of that.

He was reluctant to go near another group after his last experience, there was no way he could determine if they were psychotic or something.

The smoke was coming from what looked to be a large building, with crumbling walls surrounded by rubble. It wasn't very far, and Muichiro couldn't see anyone yet, so he assumed it would be safe to get a bit closer, to investigate.

Maybe they wouldn't be psychos.

Maybe they had seen Genya or someone else he knew passing through the area.

Maybe they had a fucking shirt.

Watching his steps, he climbed to the top of a tall pile of rocks and rubble, peering inside the crumbling walls to check the source of the smoke.

He hadn't expected to see a familiar face here, but there he was. Standing by the fire. It was definitely him, Muichiro was sure of it. There was so many things Muichiro swore he would do if he ever saw his face again.

That Dick who stole his shirt.

He could see his original backpack sitting with the rest of the guys stuff, and the fabric of his shirt was hanging out just slightly, calling for him to take it.

He knew it was basically suicide If he tried. This group had guns and outnumbered him by a lot, but he was cold and angry.

The backpacks were off to the side, so if he could cause a distraction to lead them a bit further away, he could crawl over to that side, jump in, grab his stuff and then leg it.

Perfect plan, nothing could go wrong surely. He dug around In his pack, deciding what could best cause a distraction.

He'd ditched the rotten meat a while ago, but now he wished he hadn't. The rest of his food was too valuable to sacrifice.

He pulled out the gun and a lighter, eyeing both. They could both cause a distraction if used right, but he wasn't sure which would be better.

He could use the last bullet in Genya's gun and shoot off to get side, hopefully making them investigate. But it could also give away his position, and he wouldn't be able to defend himself if they did see him.

A fire would likely be a better distraction, but they could run the opposite way if they were smart enough to not run into flames, and it would block off an exit route if he needed another escape.

It was a difficult choice, but if he made the wrong one it could cost him this chance, or worse, his life.

Notes:

Will Muichiro finally get a shirt? You'll have to wait and find out