Day 345.

You'd think that after almost a year, someone would adjust to a situation, no matter how grotesque. But there was no sign of getting used to it. Each time, a brief flare of panic surged whenever a branch snapped too loudly nearby, or the relentless cough that tormented you more and more overwhelmed you.

Complete silence is the only way to survive this chaos.A apocalypse no one understood or saw coming. Hungry creatures, blind but with incredibly sharp hearing, roamed the land. Just one decibel too loud, and they would find you, no matter how well you hid. June longed for refuge—soundproof cellars and protective bunkers deep underground, provided by the government—but you had nothing except the nearby river that drowned out your voices. Here, at least, you could speak quietly.

June cherished the moments by the river. The joy he felt when he found the abandoned cabin still lingered deep in his bones. You hadn't had such luck for a long time, but your supplies were running low. Everything accessible had been plundered, and the fish in the river had dwindled to mere specks. You both needed to depart soon, despite how much you pleaded for him to stay. When would he see you laugh carefree again?

Barefoot, he approached—a habit since his boots echoed too loudly on the ground—as you silently gazed into the rushing river. You were also troubled, fearful, and full of worry that your next glimmer of hope was far away. Arms wrapped around you from behind, A kiss gently pressed on your hairline, before June turned your head so you'd see his signing. "Don't overthink it. You'll have plenty of time to think later when you can no longer share your words with me." He managed a smile, though it felt strained, weighed down by the same concerns that plagued you. June was determined to remain steadfast. Especially for you. "Perhaps this time we'll come across other survivors, hm? Then I wouldn't be the only one enduring your tedious lessons in sign language."