Whimper

The girl takes the boy outside of the house. She leaves through the front door instead of the floorboards. The boy trails behind her, his arms crossed around him. He stoops over and keeps his head low. His dark eyes flash around.

The girl walks around a fallen stopsign and past a wrecked car. Vines and plants creep up the side of a collapsed building near it. Birds twitter above on bent shop-signs. The sky is blue and cloudless. The girl treks onward and does not pause to look at anything. The boy trots after her, and he takes a couple quick steps more to keep up with her long strides. She walks with her back straight and head up. Her breaths are even through the ventilation of her mask.

She takes him through the broken city until she finds a tree that has uprooted a sidewalk. Its gnarled roots have torn through the concrete and have left deep cracks in the pavement. The girl bends over, peers into the roots, and retrieves a satchel with a black and gold insignia on it. The bag itself is white and is a contrast against her entirely black attire.

The boy hunches over and looks at the sky. His fingers grip into his arms. The girl turns to him. "What are you afraid of?" She mimics his posture and gives him a questioning look.

"Oni," he whispers. He looks at her and creates horns on his head with his fingers. Then he extends his arms and splays his hands. He growls and stalks around.

The girl bursts into laughter. The boy stops his charade and his face pales. He appears mortified. "Monsters?" the girl asks. "There are no monsters around here. And if there are, this gun can take care of it." She taps her weapon and pretends to shoot an imaginary object.

The boy only shakes his head. "Monsutaa janaidesu."

The girl doesn't reply. She squints, looks at the sky, and slings her black and gold gun against her shoulder. "Let's keep going. The sun is still up."

She moves onward. The boy follows her, still stooped over with his arms around him.

"Anata... Dare deshouka...?" he murmurs to himself.

The boy steps over glass with his bare feet, and his eyes are wide as the two pass through wreckage and destruction. Cars have smashed into poles and buildings. Telephone wires are snapped and dangle limp. The girl and the boy walk through numerous sites like these. But when the boy loses speed, the girl does not stop. She lithely climbs over fallen skyscrapers in the cracked streets and the boy scrambles after her. He breathes hard. They have travelled for hours. "Chotto matte kudasai!" he gasps. "Chotto matte!"

"Come on." The girl turns around. She's standing on top of a roof of two crushed vehicles. A corpse hangs from the side of a broken window."We don't have all day."

She extends a hand for him. He takes it with a shaking grasp and she pulls him over. Her biceps bulge slightly underneath her thin black turtleneck. The boy collapses to his hands and knees with a bang! on the metal. Beads of sweat drip off his forehead. His thin arms quiver.

"Are you tired?" the girl asks. "We don't have time to stop. I will leave you here if you don't get up." She jumps off the other side of the cars.

"Chotto... matte..." the boy breathes. "Onaka ga... suiteimasu..."

The girl watches him. "You said that before, what does that mean?" Her dark eyebrows draw together. "What are you trying to tell me?"

The boy pants and shakes his head. Then he attempts to pull himself up. His legs tremble, and his knee gives beneath him. He plummets back on top of the car.

"Are you dying?" The girl climbs on the roof again. The boy sags against the scraped metal. The car beneath them is painted red. The girl takes the boy's wrist and feels for a pulse. "Your heart-rate is fast. And... Onaka what? What does that mean? Onaka ga..."

"Kono onaka." The boy laughs wheezily and places a hand on his stomach. "Onaka ga suiteimasuyo..."

The girl stares at him. The boy only breathes. "You're dying, aren't you?" she asks. "You may have fought off the infection for a while, but you're dying. That's why you're so thin and frail."

The boy only breathes.

"I'm sorry." The girl pulls out her gun and presses it against the boy's temple. His breath hitches. "I should have just killed you there. I didn't realize that the infection had spread within your body. There's nothing I can do to cure you."

The boy panics. "Iie! Dame desu! Iie! Onaka ga-onaka ga-"

Then a low grumble emits from the boy's stomach.

The girl drops her gun. The boy holds his hands over his middle and the rumbling persists. His dark eyes pierce into the girl's ones.

After a few seconds, she starts laughing. The girl throws her head back and laughs into her gas mask. The noise is artificial and strange through the device. "Oh my goodness," she says. "Why didn't I realize? I could have killed you. You're just hungry. You're just hungry, ha! You're malnourished and that's why you're weak. I'm really, really sorry."

The boy only stares at her. His eyes are wide and his mouth is open slightly. There is no color in his high cheekbones.

"Here." She clicks open her satchel and retrieves a small bag. "It's a sandwich. I don't know if you have these here, but it's food."

The boy's eyes flick over from her face, to the bag, to her face, to the gun, and back to the bag. Then he gingerly reaches out and opens the plastic. His hands are shaking.

"Sandwich," the girl repeats. "It's food."

The boy peers into it and unwraps the bread from the napkin. His eyes still flash back to the gun and back. Peanut butter and jelly ooze from between the crust. "Sandoichi desune," he says.

The corners of the girl's eyes crinkle and she laughs. "Yes, a sandwich. Eat it."

After a second of hesitation, the boy devours the sandwich and licks the bag clean. The girl watches and brings another one from her bag. He locks eyes with her and slowly reaches for the plastic. She pulls it away.

"Doushite? Sono sandoichi o tabenakareba ikemasen!" the boy demands.

"No," the girl says flatly. "You can't have it now. I'll give it to you if you keep walking with me. We have to leave. Leave." She motions.

The boy frowns and swipes at the food. The girl gracefully dances her way down from the cars and dangles the plastic bag. "Come down here and get it." She jabs a finger to the cracked asphalt.

The boy mutters something to himself and unceremoniously clambers down from the wreck. His knees still tremble and he swallows repeatedly. He says something pleading. The girl shakes her head.

"Come on." She extends her hand, the one not holding the sandwich. "I'll support you. We need to go."

The boy stands there for a brief moment before staggering forward. He grasps onto her hand with his quivering one. His hand is thin and unmarred in her dark and scarred one.

"Come on, let's keep moving, okay?" she asks. "I promise you I'll give you this later. I promise."