Bloom and Scatter [Free! Zombie AU]

28 Hours Later - Part 1

Dawn broke over the horizon.

Rin squinted, the haze of sleep still weighing heavily on him as he raised his head from his chest. He must have closed his eyes and accidentally fallen asleep because he swore it had been pitch black only moments before. He could feel his muscles stiffening as he pushed himself to sit upright and cast his eyes balefully ahead.

Makoto was tied to the stone pillar across from him still, body twisted at odd angles, eyes red and skin pale under the dim light of the early morning sun. Rin had barely slept. He'd had to deal with a delirious Makoto, confused and lightheaded, mumbling all sorts of things as passed from troubled dreams to restless wakefulness. His body was fever-hot but he didn't sweat. He'd fainted twice, both times Rin had hoped and feared that he had... expired before the worst of the sickness took him, but Makoto's pulse continued to beat under his fingers, a slow one-two that was weak but undoubtedly present. The conversation he'd previously had with Rin had been reduced to the one-sided babbling of a madman as he went on and on about zombies, groaning and slurring incomprehensibly once his throat dried up and it became difficult to talk.

Taking a deep breath, Rin steeled his resolve.

His hands shook, but he told himself to bury his doubts and do what his instincts told him was right.

He gripped his machete tightly and moved closer to Makoto. He squatted in front of him.

"Makoto," Rin said, a faint tremble in his voice, "Can you hear me? Do you recognise me?"

Makoto looked up at him, eyes glassy, having roused only moments earlier. There was maybe a faint hint of recognition though Makoto only made a hoarse noise, voice rough and cracked.

Rin inhaled slowly, hurting to see his friend like this. He said nothing else, standing and walking to Makoto's side, gently pushing Makoto's body forward and away from the lantern. Makoto's head hung low. Rin's hands were sweating and he briefly fumbled with his machete to wipe his palms against the seat of his jeans. He regripped the hilt of his machete and raised it high, deceptively steady.

He aimed.

Carefully.

The machete lodged into the bamboo with a sharp thunk.

It took a few yanks to pull it free, but now that the stem had more give, Rin was able to tug the plant at an angle and hack at the broken base until it was finally cut through. He let out a huff of air and tossed the cut bamboo onto the small pile he had amassed on the ground. He had been doing this for some time now. It was fortunate that, even surrounded by forest, the temple had chosen to cultivate a few patches of bamboo. Rin would have felt too guilty throwing potted bonsais onto the flame and his machete just didn't have the steel to fell a conifer.