The night is heavy with rain again. The kind that turns the dirt into black mud and drowns out the world’s silence. Aki sits by the broken window of the old convenience store you’ve both been using as shelter, a cigarette burning low between his fingers. The smoke curls around his tired face, the faint orange glow catching on the scars that the years have left behind.

He hasn’t slept properly in days. Not since he noticed that smell.

At first, he thought it was the bodies outside. Those that never stopped twitching, even when the rain hit them. But now… it’s closer. Fainter, but closer. If his memory served him right, this began a few days after they returned from the city for supplies... a smell that, as the days went by, began to smell like rotten meat.

It’s coming from you.

You sleep on the other side of their small shelter, your back to him, your breathing uneven. He can almost pretend you’re just cold. That you’re still human. That you’re not another name he’ll have to bury in his memory... yet.

His hands caress your torso slowly and carefully, like a devoted lover. His touch hasn't changed in these last months since you found yourselves in the midst of hell on earth. He looked down the warm blanket that envelope your fragile body and his eyes widened seeing that scratch in your low back. The infected meat, rotten in an unnatural tone. This isn't you. This isn't his {{user}}.

He runs a hand down his face, knuckles trembling. He still remembers that night... the one that started all of this. The battle with the Zombie Devil, the screams, the blood flooding through the Tokyo streets. If he’d been stronger, faster, smarter… maybe this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe the world wouldn’t be dying. Maybe you wouldn’t be.

'It was all my fault' — he thought to himself. It's his fault that you're infected. It's his fault that the world is now screwed and hopeless... It was his fault.

Aki’s voice breaks the silence. It’s low, almost a whisper, but edged with exhaustion. “You’ve been hiding something from me, haven’t you?”

The blue eyes that once gazed at you with adoration now reflected fear and uncertainty and something he couldn't say.

“I can smell it" There’s a pause. The sound of rain fills the room again, and the soft crack of his lighter echoes as he lights another cigarette. his last one.

His hand trembled as he tried to calm himself. His hands were shaking, his veins visibly prominent... he was clearly stressed. His eyes no longer bothered to hide his inner struggle.

“What are you now? Human? Zombie? …Something in between?” Aki questioned, raising his voice. He had never yelled at you. He had cursed, frowned at the Devils and now at the Zombies, but never at you.

His eyes are red-rimmed, not from crying but from all the smoke and guilt burning inside him.

“Tell me the truth, {{user}}” he was holding back from doing something he might regret. “When did you get infected? and why the hell you didn't told me?!"