Karasuno Fight {One Shot Book}

The Last Of Us (The Way That It Was)

Relatively speaking, life in the woods was not as bad as the people from the quarantine zone had made it seem.

It was quiet, even peaceful at times, not a single soul living or dead to be seen for miles. The trees were different from the cracked brick walls and the looming skyscrapers in the city. They provided a sense of freedom as well as protection, something the suffocating alleyways and rickety chain link fences of the quarantine zone never had.

In the zone, food was a rarity. The higher ups and the soldiers always got their share, leaving the rest of them fighting tooth and nail to get what scraps were left. In his woods, food of some form was almost always available, whether as a berry bush or as a deer.

His woods was his haven, his own little bubble of safety away from the outside world, away from the howls of infected and the battle cries of survivors. It was quiet, peaceful, and exactly what his broken heart and mind needed.

The morning they arrived started like any other. Pale sunrays streaked across the forest floor as the sun awoke from its slumber. Yaku was already out and about, slinking among the cover of the trees like a wildcat about to pounce. He kept his footsteps soft and light, careful to mind any stray branches that would alert his unsuspecting prey.

The prey in question, a buck, peered carefully around the clearing as it finally settled to a stand still. Yaku halted his own movements when the buck's gaze glanced past him, and he didn't dare breathe.

With a final anxious twitch of its nose, the buck relaxed, lowering its head to huff at a patch of green-yellow grass. Yaku let out a shallow breath, his grip on his bow tightening before he readied himself to take aim.

Breathe in, hold for seven seconds. One, two, three, four... He carefully lined up the crosshairs, his breathing calm and controlled.

Ready, aim...

Yaku flinched slightly at the loud bleat the deer made before it collapsed onto its side, the arrow glinting at him from where it was stuck between the deer's ribs. He allowed a small smile to grace his face as he stood up and picked his way through the trees. Nice kill.

The deer had ceased its futile struggle by the time he made his way over, having already accepted its fate. Yaku crouched down silently beside the deer's head, his knife gripped carefully in his hand as he positioned it over the beast's throat. The deer let out a low whine as Yaku brought the knife down, its head falling back onto the ground with a soft thump.

A sadness settled over him as he glanced at the deer's now lifeless eyes. While killing was necessary, he had never gotten used to the idea that killing living things; whether animals, humans, or infected; was commonplace in this now fucked up world.

I-I'm fine, Yaku! I'm fine, it's just a scratch...

The words were whispered through a wobbly smile, dark eyes looked up at him softly, gently, the shrill howls of infected sounded in the distance. His hands were soaked in blood...

Yaku shook his head violently, trying to rid himself of the thoughts. No, he was not going to think about that. He refused to. He wiped furiously at the tears in his eyes and grit his teeth, raising both hands and slapping his cheeks with as much force as he could muster. The pain was sharp, distracting.

He glanced back back down at the deer, staring into eyes that had once been filled with the brightness and innocence of life...

Come on, Yaku, hurry up! It's gonna get away!

...and now held nothing but darkness and death...

                               * * *

Yaku had barely been asleep for a full minute before the familiar screech of infected echoed in the woods.

He was on his feet in an instant, yanking the covers off himself and reaching for his knife. He peeked out the window, his knife clutched to his chest, scanning the woods for signs of infected.

He jumped as a loud bang sounded from the front door, then another, and another until the banging was so loud Yaku could barely hear himself think.

He seemingly stopped breathing when a voice called out. "Yaku! Let us in!"

He knew that voice. He just didn't think he would be hearing it ever again, not after all these years. Not after what happened. He swallowed, his grip still tight on his knife. The banging became more frantic with each passing minute, accompanied with the shrieks and screams of the infected, making Yaku's heart race.

"Yaku, I have a kid with me, dammit! Let us in!"

Yaku gritted his teeth, his head pulsing with indecision, before he finally dashed foward, throwing open the door with one powerful yank. Kuroo didn't hesitate, quickly pushing his companion into the house, and straight into Yaku.

They both fell to the floor, Yaku puffing out a wheeze as the boy landed on top of him. He growled, grabbing the boy by the back of his shirt and throwing him off.

"Shit, Yaku!"

Yaku followed Kuroo's lead, scrambling to his feet and throwing himself at the door, pushing against it with all the strength he had. The kid had gotten back to his feet already, a switchblade clutched desperately in one scrawny hand as he swung it around.

Yaku risked turning his head towards him. "Quit waving that damn knife around, you idiot, do you want one of us to get stabbed?"

Outside, the clickers screeched in agitation, banging against the door.

Kuroo yelped under his breath as he lost his footing against the floorboards for a moment; however, he quickly righted himself and resumed holding the door closed. "Yakkun, come on," he groaned, his voice raspy and strained, barely audible over the cries of the infected. "Give the kid a fucking break."

Yaku looked up at him with wild eyes, resisting the urge to let go of the door so he could smack Kuroo. "Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Roosterhead. Yeah, I should be more concerned for the feelings of one of your charity cases rather than, oh, I don't know, our fucking lives?"

Kuroo growled, ignoring Yaku's angry outburst. "I can't hold this much longer, we have to let them in so we can kill them. On three?"

Yaku snarled and gritted his teeth. "One," he began, his voice trembling from anger and exertion.

"Two..."

"Three!"

They both leaped back as they let go of the door, the two clickers scrambling over each other to get inside. Yaku pushed the kid backward as hard as he could, hoping he would get the message and stay out of the way as he took out his hunting knife.

The first clicker came at him swiftly, its arms flailing blindly. Yaku danced out of the way, whistling to keep its attention. Come on you bastard... just a little closer... Just a little...

The clicker shrieked in pain as Yaku struck, his hunting knife planted snugly in the side of the creature's neck, both the blade and his hand becoming splattered with blood. He yanked the knife out with a grunt of exertion, watching in satisfaction as the clicker clutched feebly at its neck before falling over, defeated.

He turned, just in time to watch Kuroo sever the second clicker's head from its neck, both the body and the head dropping to the floor with a sickening thud.

He and Kuroo just stared at each other for a few moments after that, both gasping for breath and their clothes and faces splattered with blood. Then, they moved, crashing into the other with pained cries, large hands clutching tightly at fabric while smaller hands ran frantically through tangled, unkempt hair. Yaku looked up at Kuroo, tears burning at the back of his eyes. Kuroo smiled softly at him, his own eyes shining with unshed tears.

"Hey, Yakkun... Did you miss me?"