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Frigid Moon Ch. 2

Chapter Two – Fleeting

May 2032 (SPRING)

He swallowed thickly, the blade's pressure increasing as it dug into the porcelain skin of his throat. His breath caught in his chest, and the sound of his heartbeat rang in his ears as he could feel Saryuu smirk against his earlobe.

“Come now, Fey,” he hummed into the boy's ear, which in turn sent a shiver down the green haired boy's spine, “Don't be foolish.”

Fey could feel it as Saryuu's other hand tightened around his hip.

“You haven't killed me yet. This isn't over,” Fey barely breathed, feeling as a bead of sweat trailed across his face, “You're always so arrogant.”

Saryuu sighed sweetly, his breath warm against the back of Fey's neck. “Oh, well regardless, what do you say we stop with the games and get down to business? This has gone on long enough, wouldn't you agree?”

“I'm not going anywhere. Not until this is over.”

“Ah, but did you not promise to stay by my side? You don't have a choice. We're leaving,” the snowy haired boy commanded in an enticing whisper.

Fey didn't seem so enticed, however, considering he chuckled darkly in response, the vibrations pressing his skin uncomfortably closer to the blade of Saryuu's crafted shiv. “I already said that I'm not done yet.”

Before Saryuu could respond, he was startled as the green haired ex-Firefly jabbed an elbow into his side, disrupting his balance. His arm swung backwards in an unintentional, immediate response, drawing the blade across Fey's throat in a shallow cut. Blood was drawn, flowing towards Fey's collar bone in a thin, crimson trail. But that didn't slow him down as he worked at spinning himself around when Saryuu's hold on him was weakened.

Before Saryuu had the chance to recollect himself at the unexpected blow, Fey leaped at him, an action that knocked the both of them to the library floor. The green haired ex-Firefly pinned Saryuu underneath him, the barrel of his hunting rifle aimed right at his flustered face before the violet eyed survivor could even blink and process what had just happened.

“You couldn't kill me, and that's where you went wrong,” Fey's mint tinged eyes narrowed in anticipation of what he was about to do, his finger squeezing around the trigger.

Saryuu lay underneath him, stunned, though was swift to snap out of it. His fluttering, royal purple orbs narrowed, a dangerous glint forming within their depths as his eyebrows drew together in anger as his hands shot up and smacked the gun barrel from his face. “I could've slit your throat, you idiot!”

Fey eased up on his form, clipping his hunting rifle back onto his backpack and sitting up straighter against Saryuu's frame. “Yeah, you could have,” he could feel the rush of adrenaline begin to die down as he peered down into Saryuu's unusually distressed face, “But I trusted that you wouldn't. Besides...” Not even the mixed look of both worry and outrage in the depths of those violet eyes could keep the victorious grin from Fey's face as he extended an arm out and began to trace a lone finger across the surface of Saryuu's goggles. “It looks like I win. So the beach it is.”

His facial features softened. “Shut up...” Saryuu's tone didn't sound harsh, but quiet as he pushed the boy's porcelain arm away, bringing his own tanned hand over to Fey's neck. He ran his fingers along it's smooth surface, small amounts of fresh blood smearing their tips. “...You're bleeding. You're too reckless, Fey. If that had been a real fight, you could have ended up very much dead, you know that? Trying to escape a knife to the neck is suicidal.”

“I'm fine. It's hardly even a scratch. Besides, don't be so uptight. It wasn't a real fight. Just a competition,” Fey's flirtatious (Saryuu swore it was so) gaze lingered for a few moments before he picked himself up from where he sat on the snowy haired boy, offering a hand to him once steadily on his feet.

Saryuu considered refusing the hand before him, though reluctantly clasped onto it and picked himself up off the floor, crossing his arms over his chest as a frown found it's way to his lips. He was far more than displeased with the entire situation, unable to do anything but feel sour about it.

It had all started when they'd been exploring the town they'd recently made it to. They'd been on the move since Spring had started, considering Fey's wound had long since healed. All that remained of it was a jagged, dark pink scar that ran along the pale skin of his side.

They'd come across worn signs, bent and deteriorating though continuing to label specific streets and which sorts of facilities were in which direction. Having passed a sign labelled 'beach' on the way to the library that they currently resided within in a desperate attempt at gathering some more supplies, Fey had basically begged and pleaded for the two of them to make that their next visited location.

Saryuu had denied, suggesting they check the airport instead, as it would be far more likely to provide them with valuable finds. He simply couldn't agree with Fey's desire to go to the beach simply for the beautiful scenery that it would provide them with. Scenery was nice and all, but it couldn't help them survive. It wouldn't feed them, nor load their guns with the ammunition in which they were lacking.

It wasn't until they had reached the library, searching it, that Fey had proclaimed they 'stealth fight' one another in order to come to an agreement. Fey would count to a specified number as Saryuu wandered off to take cover where he pleased. Whoever managed to 'kill' the other first, won. If Fey won, then they would go to the beach, and if Saryuu won, then he'd have his way and their next location would indeed be that of the abandoned airport.

What made Fey's victory all the more frustrating for Saryuu (asides from being a tad bit of a sore loser), however, was that he'd planned to take Fey to the beach, regardless, as a surprise long before the greenette had even realized there was a beach in the current town they'd found themselves within. He'd hoped to get him down there for when the sun set into the ocean, it's gently swaying surface sparkling vividly as it was gently caressed by the orange sky. He wasn't sure if Fey had ever witnessed anything like it, and so he'd looked forward to surprising him.

So much for that... He'd been so confident that he would win, too...

“Let's just sweep the remainder of the library first, and then we'll go to the beach,” Saryuu grumbled, reclaiming the shiv that had slipped from his hand during their struggle. A smidge of crimson coated it's point. He turned away from the other, preparing to search through the cluttered library. A few shelves had tumbled over at some point or another, spilling several books onto the floor. Torn pages also lay at their feet, as well as garbage and other useless materials. His back turned, Saryuu coldly added, “Clean up your neck, would you?”

Fey cocked his head at him, placing a hand on his hip as haughty, minty eyes seemed to burn into the survivor's turned back. Saryuu could hear the mocking traces of victory in Fey's tone when he spoke. “So, what? You're gonna be miffed with me now?” Saryuu's lips pressed more tightly together at the sound of Fey's approaching footsteps. The boy seemed to be prying something out of the depths of his bag as he walked forward, nudging the item into Saryuu's shoulder before dangling it before him once he reached his side.

Saryuu blinked at the bottle of tequila grasped between Fey's fingers, raising an eyebrow questionably. “Tequila?” he said flatly, “What? Am I supposed to make a molotov out of it and burn myself alive, along with my sorrows, Fey?”

“Ha-ha,” the ex-Firefly mocked a laugh, “You really don't take losses well, huh?” His previous tone faded after he paused, developing into a sound that seemed far more thoughtful once he continued, “I found it on one of our explorations a few days back, and I had been saving it for crafting into a weapon, but it looks like you might need some. We can drink it together at the beach. It isn't often that we get to do that.”

Alcohol, especially a bottle that had been left untouched, was a rare find. And normally when they did happen to stumble across hard liquor, it would be used towards creating the explosive molotov cocktails that were so very effective against hordes of Infected, primarily the deadly Clickers.

Hesitant eyes flickered towards Fey's eager ones. He didn't want to seem as if he were trying to rain on Fey's parade or anything, but his stubbornness permitted him from explaining the main source of his displeasure. It would only make Fey feel bad, and quite frankly, he didn't want to hear Fey's apologies over having blown the surprise.

“Then I suppose it's a date,” Saryuu said, eyebrows raised as an uneven smile played on his lips. His tone sounded lighter in his attempt to bury his discouragement. He didn't want Fey to believe that his sourness had been solely caused by his own loss. He'd be lying if he tried to say that it didn't play a part at all, however.

Fey grinned as he shoved the tequila back into his backpack, swinging it back over his shoulder and into place once it was fastened up. “It'll be a lot more romantic than an airport,” he teased, bumping Saryuu's side with his hip before jogging ahead of him.

Saryuu merely watched after him sheepishly as he disappeared behind a towering bookshelf, scoping out the remainder of the area. Saryuu did the same, having recalled seeing an undamaged rag and a pair of scissors at one point as they'd stalked one another during their clash of sorts.

“Saru,” the snowy haired boy's head perked up at the distant call of his name as he inspected the floors and the old desks that lined the vast space. Graffiti, mangled books and broken computer monitors littered their surfaces, mostly. Fey must have wandered to the other side of the library, based on the volume of his voice. It always made Saryuu feel uneasy. What if something were to happen? How would he protect him, though he'd admitted long ago, that Fey was far more than capable of taking care of himself despite his previous reckless performance. “I think that this place might have been a base for a group of Hunters...”

Saryuu's eyes narrowed, “Oh? And what exactly feeds this theory, Fey?”

“There's an oil barrel over here. It's charred inside, so somebody was using it to keep warm. Plus, there's a few blunt weapons over here too.” He paused before adding grimly. “No ammo, though.”

“Dammit...” Saryuu muttered underneath his breath. They hadn't come across any ammunition for quite some time now. His pistol had maybe three shots left, while his shotgun had about 6. Fey's rifle was also at 6 shots, though he rarely used it – saving it only for tight situations. As distraught as it left Saryuu at times, Fey often tried to melee an enemy first. “Stay on your guard then. If what you suspect is true, then it's highly likely that we're not alone in this town. They may have simply relocated.”

Fey's voice sounded closer as he spoke, which Saryuu quickly realized was more so then he'd realized when the green haired boy came out from behind a book shelf, joining Saryuu at his side. He noticed that Fey had acquired a lead pipe, which he had strapped on the opposing side of his bag to his rifle. “What should we do?” he asked softly, tilting his head slightly as he placed a hand on Saryuu's arm. “Should we forget about the beach and work at getting out of this town?”

“Have you ever seen a beach before?” was Saryuu's gentle response.

Fey's facial features tensed, “No... But it isn't worth it.”

“Who knows when we'll be down by the coast again,” the survivor withdrew from Fey's touch, adjusting the goggles that rested in his snow white head of hair before moving onto adjusting the way his bag sat on his back as he prepared to leave the library. “Besides, no place is safe. When it's not Hunters, there's Infected. Or FEDRA. Bandits. Even cannibals. If you're too scared to face a little danger, than you best seek shelter in one of the quarantine zones.”

“I was a Firefly, remember? I'd rather die then live in their enforced cities. They're so corrupt...” he gave Saryuu a curious glimpse as he followed after him, any bitterness dissolving from his tone as he asked, “I have obvious reasons to dislike them, but have you ever thought about living in a quarantine zone?”

Saryuu wasn't sure if Fey's acidity was stemmed from maybe being raised a Firefly his entire life, or if maybe FEDRA had done something to him to encourage him to join the firefly's fight in the first place. But he didn't bother to ask. They still hadn't touched the topic of their personal matters, just yet. They'd become close for survivors who had only met a few months ago, but Saryuu wouldn't have complained if they didn't ever open up about personal feelings and experiences. Just having a living being around who was warm when they touched, and who responded to him when he spoke was comforting enough on it's own.

“No,” Saryuu didn't turn back to look at him as he spoke coolly, emerging from the library and out into the sun, which brightly lit the streets. The air was refreshing, tinged with salt from the nearby ocean as the breeze gently played with his lightly coloured strands of hair. The jagged pieces that framed his face tickled at his cheeks as they gently caressed their tanned surface. “I've always been able to take care of myself. I never needed their protection.”

With squinted eyes, he surveyed the eerily peaceful space around them, searching for any hints that the town was occupied by other survivors, possibly Hunters or other types of hostiles. Fey seemed to be doing the same, his shoulders partially hunched and tense as he tried to listen out for any noise past the loud cries of the seagulls.

“I'm pretty sure you weren't born a badass,” Fey laughed lightly as he eased out of his cautious form, practically skipping down the stone steps and heading for the road. Bright green vegetation had begun to protrude from cracks in the concrete, and deep puddles had formed in various areas due to the heavy rainfalls they'd endured back in April. Fey seemed excited about seeing the ocean, despite his concerns. “You must have needed protection at some point.”

Saryuu walked after him, brushing the statement aside with his lack of response.

Fey glanced back at him, pressing his lips together, though respected that he'd chosen not to comment on it. He fell back, matching Saryuu's pace and walking at his side as they made their way to the nearby beach. The coastline was in view, and Fey found himself automatically beaming at it's appearance as they drew ever closer.

Saryuu found himself glancing over at the boy who seemed to very well glow, silence having fallen on them after he'd refused to reply. But there was nothing awkward about it. If anything, it was almost nice. Fey didn't seem insulted in any way either, merely looking back and fourth between the approaching beach and Saryuu's watchful eyes. Fey's own orbs would smile at him warmly whenever they met.

“So...” Despite the comfort he found in it, Saryuu couldn't restrain himself from breaking the muteness – not after Fey had looked at him like that. “You've never been to the ocean before?”

Fey shook his head, seeming to close a gap of space between them considering Saryuu swore he was walking even closer then before, "If I have, I don't remember it."

“Assuming it will be rather barren, asides from the two of us, what do you say we stay overnight?” Saryuu offered. If Fey was thrilled at the thought, then just maybe it made up for the fact that his surprise had been ruined. “I bet the stars will appear quite charming on the beach at night.”

When they weren't on the move, stargazing was something they both enjoyed doing together before they drifted off into sleep. It had been that way since the very first time they had basked in the moonlight on the same day as their fated meeting.

“Aww, are you trying to apologize for the tantrum you threw after I beat you?” Fey gave him a teasing look, “That's cute, Saru.”

“I'm being serious, you know,” Saryuu pressed his lips together, his tone dry, “Besides, I did not have a tantrum. You're overreacting.”

Fey laughed, “Maybe, but you can't take a joke. C'mon, you know I'm just kidding. But in all seriousness, where would we sleep? You'd just lay out on the sand with me?” He seemed to search Saryuu's face hopefully.

Saryuu scanned the beach, his military boots sinking into the sand as they crossed the border of grass. Further along the shore, he noticed a stranded boat, it's hull having been dragged up onto the beach. “We can always search that boat over there,” Saryuu noted, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand as he peered over at it. “It might be habitable, at least for just the night. But we're going to have to scope out the beach first. I'd like to ensure that there aren't any Infected around. Or those Hunters.”

But his words seemed to travel far over Fey's head as the green haired boy gaped at the ocean with eyes that sparkled back at it, it's waves gentle as they churned along the shore. He rubbed his shoes through the sand, seeming to test it's unusual, grainy texture.

It was far duller than what he'd seen in magazines, but there was still something so incredibly soothing about it, eeriness aside.

“Isn't it beautiful?” he murmured, mesmerized eyes flickering to Saryuu.

Saryuu's lips quirked up at the corners as he placed a hand around Fey's waist, coaxing him forward until he believed that they were close enough to the water before guiding him down onto the sand next to him, their shoulders brushing. “I'm pleased that you like it.”

Fey traced a finger in the sand, testing it against his fingertips next. The curious look written on his face was deemed cute by his snowy haired partner. Whether he'd been with the Fireflies or not, Saryuu had concluded that Fey had been sheltered, or something along those lines at least, considering there seemed to be oh so many sights he hadn't witnessed until joining up with Saryuu. When his facial features glistened with such innocent curiosity, he almost actually appeared his age, and to the survivor, that was precious.

“You said you wanted to stay here overnight, right? Should we do some exploring before we get comfortable?” Fey inhaled sweetly, seeming to enjoy the damp, salty air before his spearmint coloured gaze blinked back to Saryuu, almost shyly. Saryuu couldn't comprehend the cause.

Saryuu shook his head, crossing his legs and splaying his hands into the sand behind him as he reclined slightly, a way of indicating that he was already comfortable. “I'd say that drink sounds quite fetching right about now. We'll search the beach afterwards, though searching that boat over there will take priority. We'll determine whether we can use it as shelter until the morning.”

“Sure, but it's pretty strong stuff, you know.” Fey shrugged his bag from his shoulders, letting it fall onto the sand before dragging it over to his side and fishing inside of it for the bottle of tequila that he had promised Saryuu before. “We can't go getting buzzed.”

Saryuu laughed, a pleasantly crisp sound. “Where did your playful side go, Fey? Don't get all serious on me. Besides, that one other time we did this, were you not intoxicated after two shots?”

Fey gave him a knowing look, “Oh, so that's how you remember it. Saru, you were drunk before me...”

Saryuu shrugged, unable to clearly recall. “Regardless, one shot should be fine. Maybe two.”

He reached for the bottle that Fey had retrieved from his bag, but Fey smirked and tugged the bottle away from Saryuu's fingers before prying the lid off. “I think those who can actually hold their liquor, and not just claim that they can, should go first.”

“You jerk,” Saryuu didn't appear the least bit upset despite his words, simply teasing, “Fireflies must have some crazy parties for you to seem so accustomed to this sort of thing.”

Fey merely laughed before he took a deep breath, tilting his head back and then pouring a stream of tequila into his mouth. His throat burned at the hard liquor's touch and he couldn't keep from coughing afterwards, a mix of a sheepish laugh in there somewhere as he choked on his words, “Jeez, that's enough for me.”

He passed the bottle to Saryuu, who repeated the process.

They continued to do so a few more times, though took smaller sips rather than indulge in 'downing' it shot style.

Fey set the bottle down at his feet, sighing sweetly as he brought his legs to his chest and laid his chin against their kneecaps. His throat continued to burn, but being able to stare out at the ocean and spend time with Saryuu like this was such a treat... He'd cherish it.

Reluctantly, Fey leaned into Saryuu's nearby frame, resting his head against the surface of the snowy haired boy's shoulder. Maybe his heart felt so warm and fluttery right then, almost as if it were about to melt, because of the setting. Or maybe he'd drank too much. Maybe it was a combination of the both of them, but either way, he smiled lightly as he could feel Saryuu's hand at the back of his head, gently caressing the tips of his flippy hair.

“Fey,” the gentle tone of Saryuu's voice as he breathed into his green strands of hair only made Fey's heart feel all the more gooey. “Lift your head for a second.”

Fey obeyed, uncertain eyes searching Saryuu's face as he withdrew from the comfort of Saryuu's shoulder. He watched as the white haired boy stood, leaving his spot next to Fey as he dragged his bag to the water's edge. He dug something up from the depths of his backpack, soaking it into the water that would continuously flow backwards and forward as if kissing the sand.

He returned to Fey's side, placing his bag beside him as he held onto the object he had submerged into the cold, salty water. It appeared it'd been the cloth he'd obtained at the library. He extended it towards Fey, carefully dabbing it along the boy's porcelain throat.

The ex-Firefly flinched at the way it stung at first, a quiet gasp coming from his lips before he relaxed into it, flattered that Saryuu had even remembered the cut along his neck.

“T-thanks,” Fey smiled.

“Don't thank me,” the look on Saryuu's face nearly reminded Fey of the time Saryuu had saved his life. He'd been so absorbed and focused as he'd tended to him. “I'm the one who inflicted it, after all. It's the least I can do.”

Fey tilted his head slightly, his facial expression growing warmer – more reassuring. “It's just a scratch. I can more than handle it. It was a play fight, Saru. I'm pretty sure that I left you with bruises and such myself.”

“Correct, but you didn't make me bleed...”

“You're too sensitive. More than you show,” Fey raised a hand to cup Saryuu's cheek, ensuring that he look him in the eyes as he spoke softly, “But I did hit you kind of hard. For that, I'm sorry too.”

Saryuu gave him the faintest smile (it showed mostly in the violet depths of his eyes), finishing up with the dry blood and the shallow cut on Fey's skin. He withdrew, standing back up onto his feet and swinging his bag back over his shoulders. His head felt a little lighter than usual, and it was more than obvious to him by the paired warm feeling that he was nothing more than buzzed on alcohol. He could still hold his own, if it came down to it, however. He wasn't drunk – not even tipsy – and his coordination and such seemed perfectly fine.

He offered a hand out to Fey, the other hand resting on his hip, “Come on, let's look around. We can chitchat some more as we walk along the beach. Charming, no?”

Fey had drank slightly more than him though, and rather than being buzzed, he seemed more so tipsy. He could see it in him when he stood. It was only a slight difference, but Saryuu had been around him long enough to pick up on it.

It didn't seem he was in denial over it, either, his eyes fluttering as he grasped onto Saryuu's tanned hands and picked himself up from the sand. If he was feeling any dizziness, he was quick to shake it off. “I think I had more to drink than I intended,” he chuckled, though it was obvious that he'd been sure to monitor it well enough to ensure he was battle ready. Saryuu gave him a double-take, concluding that he was just fine.

“You wanted to start with the boat?” Fey asked as they began to walk along the beach towards it. Their hands had remained linked for a few lingering moments, even as they'd begun to walk, though Fey withdrew his fingertips where they loosely curled around Saryuu's own fingertips. Instead they gripped at the straps of his own backpack.

Almost as if they'd been left feeling empty, Saryuu's own hands began to fidget with the black and purple goggles that rested over his head. “There might be some useful supplies on-board. We may hopefully be able to stay there tonight, even.”

Though that would all depend on whether the area was deemed dangerous or not. If the area was prestigious for hordes of Infected or even the group of Hunters who were suspected to have occupied the town, then Saryuu would prefer to leave, whether he'd promised Fey a night out on the beach or not. Regardless they would take turns staying awake throughout the night, so that one of them was always conscious and guarding the other.

Fey and Saryuu approached the wrecked boat with caution, each readying their weapon of choice before boarding. The rotting teak wood of the beached cabin cruiser creaked underneath Saryuu's boots, which caused him to grimace.

Fey approached the cabin first, his fingers tight around his lead pipe as he nudged the cabin door open. He eased up on his form when he took in the room's emptiness. Saryuu lowered his pistol, sighing when he realized that it had appeared that somebody else had already raided it of supplies considering it was rather barren with the exception of the crammed furniture and the two skeletal corpses that rested on the surface of the lounging area.

With a frown, Fey clipped the lead pipe back onto his pack and then moved towards the two bodies. He knelt before them, delicate hands working at searching their clothes for anything that could have been useful to them. Instead, all he managed to acquire from them was a photo of a couple, hand-in-hand and garnished in the most gorgeous clothes Fey had ever seen before.

He recalled the picture his papa had always carried on him. The woman in it, who had been Fey's mother as well as his papa's wife at the time, had been dressed similarly. They were the ceremonial clothes of the old world. The ones worn during a couple's wedding.

“They were married,” Fey's eyes flicked up from the picture and to the two corpses, his eyes melancholy, “That's just too sad...”

A solemn sigh escaped Saryuu's lips, and Fey had trouble interpreting whether it was his way of displaying his sympathy for the couple, or whether he was flaunting his disapproval at the way Fey regarded the dead, even after all they had already come to witness. A cold heart was required for survival when enclosed in such brutality.

As a Firefly, Fey had come to witness plenty of death, but he had never ever grown accustomed to it. He didn't want an icy heart. Or at least, not one that was completely so. Only partially. Enough to keep his kindness from becoming an obvious weakness. Considering Saryuu had cared enough to save his life, he was borderline himself.

Respect or not, however, Fey didn't wish to sleep in the same room as them...

“So, um, what should we do wi-”

Saryuu cut him off in a harsh whisper suddenly, his posture tensing and his hand automatically reaching for his pistol, “Shut up! Did you hear that!? Someone's here!”

Fey's eyes widened as he fell silent, clenching his jaw as his heart came to a stand-still in his chest. He held his breath, only releasing it when a strangled cry forced it's way between his lips and his eyes clouded with horror before automatically squeezing shut at the deafening shriek of broken glass that exploded around them.

He ducked to the floor, covering his eyes and face as glass pieces from the broken window darted through the air, clattering against the floor.

Saryuu dashed to his side after swiftly recollecting his own self, “Are you okay?” he frantically asked in a hushed voice, violet orbs sharp with confirmation of his readiness for battle.

Fey nodded at him, reassurance bright in his eyes as he withdrew from Saryuu's touch. “Are they armed?” He crept towards the window, taking his hunting rifle from where it was attached to the side of his bag and into his hands. “What the hell did they use to break the window?”

“No, I didn't hear a gunsho-”

Fey quickly realized the answer to his question, screaming for Saryuu to get down before dropping back to the floor, his hunting rifle underneath him. He'd felt the object whirl inches from his face before hitting the ground, though the blood in his veins didn't go cold until he heard Saryuu's pained cry. Fey's heart stopped beating altogether when he noticed the crimson red blood that stained Saryuu's pure white hair, while also gushing down his face profusely.

Saryuu had readied his pistol, hoping to catch a glimpse of the hostiles who had staged the surprise attack from the broken window. But they went undetected, deeming it impossible for him to take a shot.

And that was when the brick had struck him against the side of the head.

His vision blurred, fuzzing black as his world began to spin. His ears rang, but he could hear the distant cries that came from Fey as he called out his name frantically.

'Saru! Saru, oh god!'

He removed the hands that'd been clutching onto his head, peering down at them and taking in red stained palms with blurred vision.

'Crap! Crap! Saru! Can you hear me!? Please, tell me that you're okay! Saru! Take cover for now! I'll be right back! I'm gonna kill them, and then I'll be back for you! I promise!'

But the voices faded as he fell to the floor with a thud, swallowed by the cold, obscure shadows of unconsciousness.

x x x

He awoke to rage and distraught screams.

'No! Leave him alone!'

Fey...?

'If you touch him, I'll kill you!!'

Saryuu's eyelids quivered as he came to, groaning quietly at the way his head throbbed. It was a pain that seemed to spread to all of his facial features, his fluttering eyes aching as nausea settled within the pit of his stomach.

When his eyes finally opened, they squeezed back shut at the intensity of the sunlight that filtered in through the nearby window. His vision was incredibly blurred, and his mind was sluggish as he tried to process what had happened and where he was.

He realized he was sitting up in a chair, and tried to move his hands. His head stung at the clanking sound that followed, and he groggily tried again, slowly grasping onto the fact that his wrists were not capable of fulfilling the motion commanded of them, as they were clasped in metallic chains.

He struggled against them, his thoughts still hazy and his entire body plagued with dizziness. But if there one thing he did know, it was that he was in a dire situation and that he needed to escape.

“Fey?” he called out his partner's name, his confusion evident in his voice as he fuzzily took in the form of the green haired ex-Firefly. Unlike Saryuu, he sat on the wooden tiled floor, his arms forced behind his back and chained to the leg of a nearby table at the wrists.

Their backpacks were located at the room's corner, and Saryuu took in the form of an unfamiliar survivor who stood close by. Two others occupied the room, also. One standing closer to Fey, as the other stood directly behind the chair he'd been imprisoned within.

He turned his head, having sensed them looming over him.

“Saru!” Fey's earlier animosity faded the moment he realized that Saryuu had come to, his full attention redirected at the one he cared and worried so desperately for, “Saru, are you alright!?” Though bitterness was swift to flash back into his eyes when the could-be Hunter walked around Saryuu's chair, indifference towards Fey's pleas written on his face. “Get away from him!! He's hurt! Torture me instead!”

Torture?

Saryuu blinked, noticing that the boy with the wavy, dull brown hair who circled his chair held a switch blade tightly in his hand. He ran it's blade's edge along the skin of Saryuu's arm tauntingly, though everything about him remained cold.

Saryuu still couldn't recall what had led up to this, but the pained look in Fey's eyes was enough to encourage him to take action, regardless. “You want to torture me, do you?” he laughed, a dark sound paired with a following sardonic smile. “Do you have questions for me, or is this the sort of thing you bastards do to pass the time? If you're such big, bad Hunters, then should I not be dead by now?”

Fey shook his head from side to side fiercely, his eyebrows furrowed in a display of his desperate desire to protect his partner. Saryuu's heart clenched at the faintest trace of tears that glistened in those wild, minty orbs, though the snowy haired boy's heartache refused to show on his face. He'd do whatever he could to ensure Fey's safety.

“No, Saru, they think we're the Hunters!” Fey cried, his voice cracking, “They want to torture you because they don't believe me! We have to convince them! Please, I can't -”

A second 'Hunter' or whoever – the dark haired one who stood close to Fey – hit him across the face with the plastic handle of his hatchet, silencing him. Fey lurched to the side at the force of the swing, though his binds kept him from falling to the floor completely. The chains dug into his wrists sharply, and he just barely whimpered before attempting to shift into a more comfortable position. Saryuu spotted the visible redness on his porcelain cheek, and it was more than obvious that it would eventually develop into a big, purple bruise.

Saryuu scowled, violet eyes sharp and narrow. Oh, if only they could cut into flesh.

“Leave him out of this!” he tried to sound defying despite his clear lack of power towards the entire situation. “I don't know what that makes you, but we're not Hunters either. We were just passing through this town. But if you want to torture me, then go ahead. Though I promise you each that you'll heavily regret it.”

The third and last 'Hunter,' a boy with cinnamon coloured hair, finally spoke. Unlike the other two, his facial expression twisted into something that could almost be interpreted as sympathy. “I think that maybe we should believe them... They seem to be telling the truth. Torturing them is a bit harsh, wouldn't you say? I don't think they're Hunters...”

“Naivety is what gets other people killed, Tenma,” the dark haired one shot him down rather sharply.

“If we're the Hunters, then who the hell does that make you people?” Fey snapped, earning himself a second smack to the face.

“I swear, if you fucking hit him one more time...” Saryuu warned, his tone a harsh whisper.

The wavy haired one plunged his switch blade into the back of Saryuu's hands at that, bringing fourth a pained scream as every muscle in his body contracted and an excruciating wave of pain shot through him. He could feel it as the blade's edge tore through skin and nerves, until finally it was removed. His skin seemed to throb, the pain unbearable, even still. It hadn't gone completely through, but there was enough blood bubbling from the wound to restore and worsen his previous dizziness.

“SARU!!” Fey jerked forward, wrestling against his chains with a powerful sense of urgency overcoming him and sending him into a berserk state. It didn't matter that the chains cut into his wrists, or that he had no hope in hell of escaping their confinement. All that mattered was that Saryuu's screams had sent him off the edge. He needed to do whatever it took to help him... His saviour. “Get away from him!! Don't you dare touch him! I'll -”

Saryuu's hoarse voice cut him off, a smirk playing on his lips as he tried to keep them from quivering at the way his hand burned to the point where it was nearly unbearable. “Calm down, Fey... I'm fine,” he craned his neck so that he could peer up into the wavy haired boy's detached face. “Are you satisfied?”

“No,” the wavy haired boy spoke for the first time, everything about him unchanging, “You're going to tell us every littledetail about your base. You're going to tell us about the supplies you have stashed inside, as well as how many other Hunters there are.”

The cinnamon haired one, Tenma, intervened, his tone more insistent. “I really don't think they're with the Hunters...”

“We're not,” Saryuu spoke coolly, though it was an insanely difficult process for him to keep his voice smooth, “We're with the Fireflies. Don't believe me? Check Fey's pendant. It should be around his neck.”

The two who believed them to be Hunters narrowed their eyes speculatively, clearly doubtful.

Fey rose his head to meet Saryuu's eyes at the statement, their depths lighting up in realization. His Firefly pendant had been tucked underneath his shirt, it's chain the only part of it visible as it hugged around his neck. How had he not thought to display it to them? Sure, it wasn't as if he was a Firefly currently. But they didn't need to know that. Even with a possible concussion, and after enduring torturous amounts of pain, Saryuu had thought to use Fey's past to their advantage.

If only he'd thought of it, then maybe Saryuu wouldn't have had to experience their savage treatment. But he frowned, realizing that he'd been far too blinded by his worries and fears for the other, which had become embodied within his outrage towards those endangering him...

The dark haired boy was the one to approach Fey considering he was closest to him. He knelt down on one knee, giving him the sort of piercing look that told him not to try anything funny. But Fey behaved, meeting the other's golden orbs with a cold glower.

He pressed his lips together, his brow twitching faintly as he could feel the the dark haired one's fingers snake around his pendant, pulling it up from where it'd been dipped into his red and white, three-quarter sleeved shirt.

“I think they may be telling the truth...” he said, inspecting the distinct Fireflies symbol that'd been engraved onto the pendant's scratched up surface. He flipped it, taking in the greenette's name on the opposing side to the Fireflies emblem.

Saryuu's apparent torturer still did not seem so convinced, however, instead questioning the snowy haired survivor suspiciously, “Where's yours?”

He shrugged his shoulders in a quick, shallow motion, chuckling ironically, “I suppose I misplaced it.”

“Isn't it enough to see Fey's pendant?” Tenma asked hopefully. The casual use of his name brought him Fey's stare. He didn't word such, but Fey was insulted that somebody who was associated with the group who had brought harm upon Saryuu would even dare to speak his name as if they were friends. “It's obvious that he's a Firefly. We're not like the Hunters. We need to let them go, and to treat the one who is injured, Shindou.”

Shindou, the wavy haired survivor, hesitated, “If we let you go, who's to say you won't try to kill us for what we did to you?”

Again, Saryuu shrugged, though more meekly then previous, “You don't.”

“We're not like the Hunters, either,” despite his lurking fury, Fey tried his utmost to encourage their freedom by proving a desire for peace among their two groups. If they would treat Saryuu's injuries, then forgiveness was a possibility. Maybe. “Clearly, we're all non-hostile survivors here. Maybe we can help each other out.”

Shindou's gaze lingered on him for a long while, until finally he sighed, working at undoing the chains that'd been tied around the arms of the chair as well as Saryuu's wrists. Tenma wandered to his side, digging through his backpack until he pulled out a roll of bandages and a few items that could be used for stitching.

“I'll do it,” Fey called from his spot on the floor, the dark haired survivor tending to him.

Once released, he restrained himself from jumping any of them in a fit of anger, instead stretching out his sore arms as he made his way to Saryuu's side.

Saryuu regarded his approach with a weak twitch of his lips that must have been a smile. “You okay?” he asked softly, lifting his uninjured arm from where he'd placed it in his lap as the other remained splayed on the chair's arm rest. As Fey knelt down to look into his eyes, Saryuu swept said hand through the greenette's bangs, his fingers hovering down the side of his face from there until a thumb just barely caressed the developing bruise on Fey's cheek.

“I should be asking you that,” Fey frowned, gently pushing Saryuu's hand away as he inspected the snowy haired boy's many injuries. Saryuu's hand quivered where he left it, fresh blood continuing to stream from the torn skin. And then there was his head. That was what left Fey the most concerned. The blood that'd gushed from the injury had dried across the surface of his forehead and in thin streams across his face. His hair was also stained and matted, the red – duller than when it had first been spilled – striking against the white strands.

Tenma provided Fey with a chair, which they placed on an angle that enabled Fey to begin treating Saryuu's injuries. He began with Saryuu's hand, dabbing the area with cloth before preparing to apply stitches. “Now it's my turn to stitch you up,” he murmured, bringing fourth a smile from the other.

“I'm really sorry for what we did to you...” Tenma stood next to Fey's chair, watching as he began to stitch Saryuu's hand up. “You can stay here for as long as you need to. Please, join us for dinner, even. It's the least we could do.”

Shindou nodded his head in agreement, showing the faintest traces of regret for the first time. “Forgive us... We don't like to be wary of all we come across, but it's hard not to be paranoid these days.”

Fey understood that much. He hadn't trusted Saryuu when the survivor had first stumbled upon him. He thought for sure that he would have left him for dead. But at the same time, their apologies hadn't dimmed the bitterness he felt at what they'd done, regardless of whether he would've done the same or not. He concluded that they most likely would have, but even so...

“Where are we anyway?” was Fey's only response, his tone calm.

Tenma's smile was friendly, though Fey didn't bother to look into the boy's face to notice, minty eyes focused entirely on Saryuu's hand. “We're in a town house. Asides from being raided of it's resources, it's in pretty good shape. It has three bedrooms, each with a bed and blankets. And don't worry, it's safe. The Hunters are staying on the other side of town,” the cinnamon haired boy said helpfully.

Judging by the appearance, Fey concluded that they'd imprisoned them on the lower floor. In what had been a kitchen, it seemed.

“Thanks,” Fey said coolly, quavering before he continued in the same tone and with the same, unchanging facial expression, “We can talk some more once I've finished here. Until then, could you leave me alone?”

“I'll start preparing the food,” Shindou offered, “Tsurugi, sweep the area before the sun sets.” The dark haired one nodded. “And Tenma, stay close by.” Before heading out of the room, he lastly added, pointing towards one of the room's corners, “Fey, both your packs are over there if you need them.”

With that, the three-man group dispersed. The only one lingering was Tenma, and though Fey could feel his curious eyes on him at times, the cinnamon haired boy respected his request to be left be. Fey completed the last of Saryuu's stitches in silence, moving onto Saryuu's head injury and possible concussion once wrapping Saryuu's hands up in a strip from the roll of bandages that Tenma had provided him with.

It was a good thing their group had enough medical supplies for Saryuu's treatment, considering Fey and Saryuu were lacking their own.

Saryuu pried his goggles from his blood-stained head in his attempt to make access to his head easier for Fey, noticing that a single crack ran across one of it's pale yellow lenses. He placed them into his lap.

Fey finally spoke again as he brushed a hand delicately through Saryuu's matted bangs, examining the blood that caked his forehead before dabbing a cloth over his face and cleaning him up. Saryuu flinched, his head continuing to ache, even still.

“Can you remember anything, Saru?” Fey asked softly as he continued to tend to his head injury.

Saryuu tried to recall, but it was all so hazy. He shrugged. “I feel fine, Fey.”

“That wasn't the question... Do you remember what happened? What about the beach? Do you remember spending time with me there?” the ex-Firefly pressed.

Saryuu frowned, the confusion in the depths of his violet eyes enough evidence for Fey to obtain the answer to his question.

“We'll have to keep an eye on that...” The greenette's brow furrowed. It seemed maybe Saryuu really was suffering a concussion. Fey could only hope that rest would be enough for him... If the confusion persisted, or if the head injury was worse then he'd anticipated, Fey wasn't sure of what he could do for him. Medical resources were scarce enough as it was. Where would he get a hold of anything more advanced? The Fireflies would be able to help... They had members with experienced medical knowledge, and also had access to medical supplies that would be impossible to get a hold of otherwise.

But he couldn't go back...

“Make sure to rest, Saru... After we've had something to eat, I think it'd be best for you to go to sleep.”

He'd planned on discussing what their next move would be from there with Saryuu, but it didn't seem they had a choice. Fey decided that it would be best for them to stay with Tenma's group of survivors for now. Saryuu would need the rest, and he didn't want him to push himself. He'd made the decision on his own. Saryuu didn't have a choice, partner or not.

“Fey...” Saryuu seemed to nuzzle into Fey's touch before clasping a hand around the boy's porcelain wrist, ceasing it's tender movements across his blood covered face, “Don't look at me like that. I'm fine. Over worrying yourself will get you killed.”

Fey directed a teasing smile at him once Saryuu released his wrist and allowed for him to go back to tending to him. “Oh? You mean like how you concern yourself with a mere bruise? Or a shallow cut on my neck?” He wasn't sure if he even recalled that last part, but he figured he'd get the gist of what he was saying, regardless.

Saryuu chuckled, “Are you calling me a hypocrite?”

“Don't think too hard about it,” his smile broadened.

Tenma, who had made himself comfortable upon what must have been the kitchen table, didn't wish to interrupt, but he couldn't keep from noting thoughtfully, “You two seem close.”

Fey's smile grew more sheepish at the comment, as Saryuu merely hummed in contentment.

Silence ensued a second time as Fey stood, making his way to the back of Saryuu's chair so that he could clean the wound itself. Saryuu flinched at the way it stung, and Fey watched as his tanned fingertips curled at the pain. The faintest whimper escaped his lips, and he pressed them together tightly, exhaling sharply through his nose.

Fey decided not to comment on it, as he'd long ago learned that Saryuu would snap that he was fine when questioned during onslaughts of pain. He hated to let it show, and it made him irritable when it did.

Once satisfied that he'd cleaned the wounded area to the best of his ability with their limited resources, Fey began to wrap the roll of dressing around Saryuu's head, winding it around a few times so that it was secure before tearing it and tucking the end piece in so that the entire thing wouldn't come undone.

Just as he'd begun to neatly place the other group's medical supplies onto the kitchen counter, Saryuu stood up dizzily to retrieve their bags. Fey opened his mouth to insist that he take it easy, but he suppressed himself as Shindou walked back into the room with enough cans of food for everybody, Tsurugi not far behind him. It appeared to be some type of canned pasta paired with tomato sauce, and Shindou had even taken the time to heat them over a fire, judging by the fact that they were warm.

Tenma greeted his partners cheerfully as they began to hand out the food, also providing them each with cutlery they'd apparently salvaged.

“Thanks,” Fey's mouth twitched into the smallest smile as he accepted the food, returning to the chair he'd claimed when treating Saryuu. Saryuu joined him, laying their backpacks at their feet. He'd checked them to make sure that each of their supplies was still present.

Shindou smiled sheepishly in return – a look the two wouldn't have ever believed to see from him less than an hour ago. “It's not much. But food is food.”

Tenma remained on the table's surface, patting the spot next to him in an attempt to coax Tsurugi next to him, it seemed. Two other kitchen chairs were scattered around said table, one of which being the seat that Shindou claimed for himself.

The atmosphere was awkwardly silent for the first passing moments, each of them taking cautious bites of their warm food. It seemed Tenma desired to break it, considering he would look up from his dinner, and silver eyes would look back and fourth between his own friends, and Fey and Saryuu. But the quiet was to be expected, as it was a tad bit strange for Saryuu and Fey to be treated to dinner by those who had recently held them prisoner. While on the other side, Shindou couldn't keep from feeling both regretful and ashamed of his lack in judgement.

“Umm,” Tenma held his fork to his lips, eyes flickering to Fey, “This is probably way overdo. But I'm Matsukaze Tenma!”

“Hmm?” Fey peered up from his can of food curiously, processing what he'd said. It was more than obvious that they were most likely familiar with names by this point, but he figured that it was only proper to formally introduce themselves. “Oh, I'm Fey. Fey Lune. And this -”

“Saru,” Saryuu finished for himself flatly.

Tenma didn't seem bothered with Saryuu's curtness, assuming the cinnamon haired boy had even picked up on it. He gestured to his dark haired partner who sat next to him. “This here's Tsurugi Kyousuke!”

“Tenma, I can introduce myself...” was Tsurugi's placid response.

“And I'm Shindou Takuto,” Shindou finished, “I can't apologize enough for what we've done to you...”

“We would've done the same,” Saryuu admitted, “I take it you've made enemies of the Hunters in this area?”

Shindou took another bite of his pasta before shaking his head slowly, “No. They don't know we're here. We've simply been watching them. They take refuge in a cinema downtown. It's their hangout, and they always have it heavily guarded.”

“If you've been analyzing it, then are you planning on surprise attacking them?” Fey asked, a furrow appearing in his brow. Depending on their weaponry, with the three of them, there were risks, but they could most definitely hold a candle to the Hunters. They'd gotten the slip on the both of them, even. Still... based on his own personal experiences, Fey knew quite well that Hunters were always grouped together in large numbers. Their numbers alone made them incredibly dangerous. Fey didn't even want to think about the endless supply of weapons they'd helped themselves to throughout their reign here on top of that...

It was a sticky situation he was happy not to be apart of. Though he felt a bit bad for Tenma. As upset as he'd been, he couldn't deny that Tenma seemed like a genuinely nice person. He didn't want him to get hurt, if it could be helped.

Shindou bit the inside of his lip before replying, “Yeah. We're in desperate need of supplies, so I feel that it might be our best option.” He paused, adding in a slightly more bitter tone. “Besides, they brutally murder anyone and everyone who passes through this town... I understand that they're trying to survive like the rest of us, but that doesn't make it right. It's their fault that survivors like us are always so paranoid. They deserve what'll be coming to them.”

“That they do,” Saryuu smirked, “But picking a fight with one group of Hunters will inevitably make an enemy of Hunters in other groups, as well. You know that, right? Are you still up to the challenge?”

“I've already considered all of that...”

Tsurugi and Tenma never once protested, so it seemed it'd been something they'd been discussing, and heavily considering, for quite some time now.

“Perfect,” came Saryuu's crisp voice in a musical response. Fey wondered how he could pull it off after all he'd been through that day. It was more then obvious to him that Saryuu was still quite groggy. “Consider Fey and I apart of it.”

Shindou gaped at him, uncertainty written all over his face, “What? You'd help us, even after all we d-”

“Saru!” Fey spoke up sharply, cutting Shindou off before he could finish as shock settled within him at Saryuu's statement. He hesitated, the discomfort of their eyes flickering to him as he openly questioned why they would help them causing him to do so. The greenette's eyebrows knitted together, his minty hues narrowing in objection as he spoke rigidly. His self-consciousness brought down the volume of his voice. “Shouldn't we talk about those sorts of decisions together first?”

Saryuu pressed his lips together in a tight line before speaking, making it far more than apparent that he didn't wish to have such a conversation when in the presence of the others. “Yes, but we're in the same boat as they are. We're in desperate need of supplies, Fey,” he said rather matter-of-factly. Violet eyes redirected themselves to Shindou, leaving their previous spot on Fey as the ex-Firefly's gaze grew harder. He could feel their blue-green depths burning into him. “So long as we split the spoils evenly amongst one another, we'll both help with this raid of yours.”

“Saru!” Fey snapped his name again, preparing to protest against his partner. Despite Saryuu's usually calm manner, he couldn't keep from rolling his eyes in irritation at the green haired boy. “You're kidding, right? You're in no state to take part in a raid! Are you telling me that you'd manage in a fight with your head all banged up like that? You can hardly walk in a straight line.” He paused, folding his arms over his chest and withdrawing his fixed gaze from Saryuu as he muttered once relaxing back into his chair, “I know that we need supplies. That's why I'll go with them. It'd be best for you to stay behind.”

Saryuu hated arguing with Fey. He despised it, actually. It didn't always show, but his stomach would end up in knots and he'd find himself feeling lost - scared that he would end up alone again. In a situation like their current one, he would've understood where Fey was coming from. He would have touched Fey's face, as contact between them was always comforting, softly persuading him that he didn't need to worry about him so much. Apart of him may have even felt satisfied by the attention – at knowing that somebody cared enough about him to worry for him and his overall health.

Maybe it was his concussion cramming frustration, embarrassment and irritation into his mind. Or perhaps it was the exhaustion stemmed by the minor torture, and psychological strain that distressing for Fey's safety back then had caused him. Either way, he lashed out at the greenette, his tone harsh, “Shut up, Fey! Don't you dare spout orders at me. I can make decisions for myself. I'm not taking advice from the kid who nearly had himself killed by the same such enemy.”

Shindou, Tenma and Tsurugi could only stare, unknowing of whether they should intervene or let them be. The entire scene was indeed awkward for them.

“Oh?” Fey's tone turned to ice after a cynical laugh just barely escaped him,“I'm your partner. Do you know what a partner is, Saryuu?” The use of his real name only indicated how exasperated he was. “It means we're equals! I'm not trying to order you around, I'm looking out for you, you jerk.” He bit his lip, muttering, “Besides... you'll only get in the way if you come along.”

Saryuu scoffed, “A partnership? I saved you, and then you basically pleaded that I take you in. There wasn't anything equal about it.”

Fey's heart sank.

“You're a dick,” he murmured as he stood from his chair, retrieving his backpack from where it'd been laying at his feet. He turned away from the white haired survivor, swinging the teal and black bag onto his back before placing his can of food onto the nearby counter with a loud, firm clack.

He pattered out of the room, a hand tight around the strap of his bag. He could hear Saryuu brush off their argument as he spoke to the other three as if it had never happened. He went on to question the three on their fighting abilities – asking what sorts of weapons were available to them and such.

Fey sat himself down on the tattered couch in the other room, tossing his bag from his back and placing it next to him. Porcelain fingers worked at removing his rifle from where it was clipped to his bag, and he took it into his lap along with a rag. He preoccupied himself with maintaining the firearm, unloading it before dismantling it and wiping down each of it's parts with said rag.

It helped to calm him, though his thoughts remained fairly bitter.

“Are you okay?”

The greenette's head flew up at the sound of the compassionate voice, minty orbs seeming to search Tenma's form uncertainly as he gingerly approached. Fey caught the glimmer of concern within those silver irises as Tenma took a seat next to him, watching him before looking over towards the disassembled gun that lay on the worn coffee table in front of them. Currently, Fey worked at wiping down the rifle's barrel, his hand freezing in place against it's surface as he continued to examine the cinnamon haired boy who'd cared enough to check up on him.

With Tenma sitting as close as he was, Fey felt that it was the first time he'd really had a good look at him. He wasn't sure if maybe his hurt had influenced the thought upon him, but he couldn't help but realize that Tenma held an uncanny resemblance to Saryuu, minus the snow white locks of hair and the gorgeous violet eyes that seemed to glow, they were so striking.

The similarities in their facial structure was undeniable ; including the similarity in their small, snub shaped noses, their lips, jawline, and cheek bones. Even their skin complexion was matching, as well as the shape of their round eyes.

He tried to picture Saryuu without that intense gleam in his vivid eyes, a sweeter and gentler air surrounding him as well as his facial features...

Yes, he and Tenma definitely looked rather alike.

He couldn't make up his mind on whether that fact was comforting to him right then, or more so upsetting.

“I'm fine,” Fey forced a weak smile, redirecting his gaze to his rifle as his hand thawed and continued with what he had neglected for a few passing moments, “Shouldn't you go back? Saru probably has endless questions for you...”

Tenma shrugged, smiling in return, “Tsurugi knows me well enough to answer in my place. Shindou too. I wanted to make sure you were okay... It's okay to be upset. I told Saru that he wasn't being very nice to you.”

“What?” Fey's brow crinkled, his eyes blinking confusedly before he murmured, the astonishment evident in his soft tone, “You did that? W-why?” Why should Tenma feel the need to do something like that? It wasn't his concern. “If you feel guilty because of what your group did, then don't worry about it. I don't need you to try and make up for it.”

“I'd be lying if I said that I didn't feel bad about that,” Tenma frowned, though it didn't last when he added, a gentleness turning his lips up. His eyebrows remained furrowed, however. “But that isn't why I did it. What he said didn't seem fair to you, so saying something about it seemed like the right thing to do. Besides, we can be friends, right? I like you, Fey.” He paused as a bright smile lit up his face, letting his facial features soften yet again before continuing, “And... he didn't say it, but it was more than obvious to me that Saru looked troubled. I think he feels bad.”

“Good...So he should.” Fey grumbled, pressing his lips together despite the faint blush heating his cheeks up. He was stubborn, but even he couldn't oppose the way his heart soothed at knowing that Saryuu at least regretted what he'd said. Between that, and the way Tenma was treating him – wishing to become his friend, even – how could he not flush? “Hmmm, thanks, Tenma.”

Tenma merely beamed, watching with bright eyes as Fey began to reassemble his rifle. Neither spoke another word, not until Fey looked over his rifle one last time and then secured it back onto it's spot on his bag. From there, he unzipped the bag's opening, peering within so that he could search it's insides for a tattered magazine that he'd taken from the library earlier.

The cinnamon haired survivor stared at the magazine with sparkling, silver orbs as Fey placed it in his lap, flipping it over to it's first page. “That's a sports magazine, right?” he broke the lingering silence with his eagerness, leaning in closer to confirm what it was he thought he'd seen. Yup, it was definitely a sports magazine. “Do you like the looks of soccer, Fey?”

Fey glanced over at him, fairly surprised to hear that Tenma was familiar with it, also. It wasn't often that survivors cared for the lifestyles and such of the old world. It was insignificant to them. Many were curious, if anything, but not many indulged in such things during their fleeting moments of peace and quiet. It was nothing more than a waste of time – a distraction that would get you killed.

“Yeah, I do,” a genuine smile crossed his lips as he regarded Tenma's question with friendliness, “I like to look through magazines during moments like these. It keeps me motivated. And how about you? You like soccer, Tenma?”

If Tenma's eyes could glitter more than they already had been, that they definitely did as he gestured his sentiment for the sport through the enthusiastic nod of his head. “Yeah. I used to have a ball back when I lived in a Quarantine Zone. Soldiers took it away after I accidentally kicked it at one of their heads, though,” he giggled, “But I've been looking out for one whenever we're on the move. One has to turn up eventually.”

“So you've actually seen one in real life!?” Fey exclaimed breathlessly. Tenma's passion must have been contagious, rubbing off on him. He'd never met anybody else who'd shared the same peculiar interest as him. It made it all the more exciting that Tenma appeared to be about his age. His physical similarity to Saryuu was a bonus. He couldn't hold himself back despite both his earlier, cold demeanour, and the fact that Saryuu had left him feeling rattled. Even if it was only temporarily, he didn't feel any such negativity, as the buzz of excitement had drowned it all out. “Can you tell me what it was like?” he asked, dazzled that he was in the presence of somebody who could feed his curiosity, “What does a soccer ball feel like? It's texture? Is it hard to kick around?”

Tenma seemed to be trying to recall. That, or he was trying to think of the best possible way to describe it to the boy. “Hmmm...” he bit at the inside of his lip, “I think that soccer balls are made of leather... So it's surface was kinda hard and slick. I don't really know how to describe it.” His look of utmost focus as he attempted to describe it soon lifted, bringing fourth his lightheartedness as he continued. “But when you kick it, it isn't hard so long as you view soccer as your friend. But it's the passes that make soccer the most fun. When you exchange passes with others, you're also exchanging your emotions with them. You can feel it through the ball.” He paused to take a desirous breath. “I really want to show that to Tsurugi and Shindou someday...”

Fey had a bit of difficulty understanding what Tenma meant, though the mystery behind it only made him all the more eager to experience it someday.

The greenette encouraged for Tenma to sit closer, leg-against-leg. He centred the magazine, placing it in-between them – where their thighs touched. Neither paid attention to how much time had passed as they looked through the magazine together, admiring what they had in common. Maybe they'd done so for an hour. Maybe more.

The sun filtering in through the window had long ago faded, and at some point, Shindou had wandered in, placing a lit gas lamp on the coffee table. Silver tinged moonlight lit the ebony skies outside, and Fey found himself glancing at it as it glowed like the beacon that it was in the night sky.

Normally, on nights like these, he would've been gazing upon it's charm alongside Saryuu...

With a light sigh, Fey broke away from his and Tenma's enjoyment to sheepishly state, “It's getting late. I think the others have already gone to bed. If you'd like, you can keep the magazine. But I should probably check on Saru.”

“Okay,” Tenma beamed warmly, “Goodnight. I hope you sleep well. I'll see you in the morning. Oh, and don't worry about staying up on guard duty or anything like that. It's mine and Tsurugi's turn for that tonight.”

He was no longer wary of Tenma or his friends. They seemed friendly enough, and were merely trying to survive in the most civil way they could manage. Fey needed to trust them if they were going to take on a group of Hunters together... Trusting them with his life in the night was maybe a start towards their much needed unity, though he'd probably end up staying up anyway.

“Thanks, Tenma,” Fey grinned in return, standing from his warm spot on the couch where he'd shared such closeness with the other. He took his bag by the strap with a single hand, continuing to peer down at Tenma with bright eyes. The glowing gas lamp cast shadows across his form, highlighting his facial features with a dim, warm shade of gold. “Good luck with guard duty. Wake me if you need anything, and make sure to fit in some time to sleep.”

“Don't worry. Tsurugi and I will take turns,” he assured him, his smile appearing faintly more timid.

Tenma stood up after the greenette, clutching onto the gas lamp on the coffee table and bringing it along with them as they ventured upstairs. Tenma pointed Fey in the direction to his and Saryuu's room, claiming that it was the bedroom at the very end of the hall.

They said their final goodnights before Tenma drifted into the room he himself apparently shared with Tsurugi.

Left in the dark, Fey let the moonlight guide him as he wandered to the end of the hall, silver tinged light washing in from the opening to their room. There must have been a decent sized window in there.

He crept inside, green-blue eyes moving aimlessly around the room's mid-sized space, taking in it's towering shelf of books, the cracked television that'd been mounted to the wall, a dusty desk, as well as the many posters that lined the walls which had dulled through both ageing and sun exposure, until finally halting on the bed that sat in the corner. He identified the lump in it's bedsheets to be Saryuu, who's back was turned to him. He was most likely asleep by this point.

Fey tried his best to keep quiet as he tiptoed across the room, setting his bag on the ground at Saryuu's bedside before sitting down onto it's carpeted surface. Just as he curled against it, preparing to lay his head against his bag as if it were a pillow, Saryuu stirred, rolling over. The bed's springs groaned and squeaked in protest to the motion.

Violet orbs peered at Fey through the darkness, his crisp voice following, “Were you really planning on sleeping on the floor tonight, Fey?”

The ex-Firefly jumped faintly when he realized that Saryuu was indeed alert and conscious at the sounds of his stirring. Fey met the royal purple eyes that seemed to glitter even in the blackness. “What's it matter? I don't need you to look out for me when I'm just a burden that you felt obliged to take in. I can take care of myself,” he hardly breathed, though his stare lingered, refusing to withdraw. He didn't sound bitter or resentful, but more so disheartened as he spoke softly into the shadows. Minty coloured irises reflected the same such emotion as they held Saryuu's gaze steadily.

“Fey...” Saryuu whispered softly in return, melancholy shimmering in the depths of those violet pools as a furrow appeared in his brow, “...I waited up for you so that we could talk.”

The greenette pursed his lips in thought, his gaze flickering away from the other as he murmured, “Did you mean it?... What you said?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

The room fell silent as Fey tentatively searched Saryuu's face. It was hard to stay mad at him. They were both stubborn, but the greenette could read the truth in his partner's moonlit face. Still, the insecurities always remained somewhere in the back of his mind. A portion of Saryuu's words had been true, after all. What it all depended on was whether Saryuu needed Fey in the same way that the greenette needed him.

Finally, the room's silent atmosphere shattered as Fey quietly asked, the words his own way of indirectly displaying his forgiveness, “How's your head? Do you feel okay? What about your hand?”

Saryuu just barely cracked a smile as he readjusted the way he lay on the bed, making enough room for Fey to slip in next to him before patting at the empty space with his hand. “Really, I feel perfectly fine. You did a splendid job with the dressing, so I suppose I should thank you for that,” he paused, adding, “Now come on. Get yourself up from the floor and join me.”

Without another delayed moment, Fey pushed himself up from the floor, crawling into the open space next to Saryuu. He gingerly swept his fingertips through the white haired boy's bangs so that he could examine his head wound.

“You should probably get some sleep,” a small smile twitched against the greenette's lips as he removed said hand, drawing it against his chest and burying his head deeper into his pillow. It was pretty soft: the most comfortable sleeping space they'd had in a while.

It seemed that Saryuu desired to talk some more, or at least that's what the gleam in his violet eyes said. Especially after fighting with him, it somehow felt as if there was nothing but a mere thread keeping him linked to the ex-Firefly. It was so fragile, and if it snapped apart by any means, then he would be alone again.

If they were to die tomorrow, he wanted to make the most of the peace that they still had. He wanted to talk to his heart's content ; to hear Fey's voice as he responded to him ; and to feel the warmth of Fey's porcelain skin.

It could all be gone tomorrow.

Regardless of his emotions and his fears, his physical being protested. His head continued to throb, though the pain was dull and more faint then before, at least. But his eyelids were heavy, and it was becoming futile to defy it. He struggled just to keep them open, and he was more than positive that he'd be sucked into the realm of sleep the moment he closed them.

Saryuu nodded into his pillow, carefully caressing Fey's bruised cheek before rolling over onto his opposite side and readjusting himself against the mattress. “Goodnight, Fey,” he murmured.

“Night,” Fey breathed out.

It wasn't until Saryuu had settled into sleep that Fey reluctantly nestled his head into the surface of Saryuu's spine, wrapping his arms around the white haired survivor's frame in hopes to keep Saryuu's frequent nightmares away...

#fey lune

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