Taste of a Daze
It was sunny and beautiful. The atmosphere was bleak and clear. Tsuna grunted as he trudged over a hill of stacked up cars. The sun looked happy to shine its light and warmth on the lone human climbing and sweating. Although the sentiment went unnoticed as the overwhelming heat bore into his back as flies swarmed around him.
Irritated, he flicked his hand, swatting any flies near his face. The stench the cars produced was bad enough, he didn't need anything else shoved into his nose. Unfortunately, that small action caused him to lose his balance and with unsteady feet, he plunged into the ground with a resounding thud. It echoed into the quietly lethal street.
It went without saying, it hurt. He clenched his hands into fists, ground his teeth and narrowed his eyes at the cloudless sky. He would glare at the sun, but it would hurt his eyes. He needed his eyes for the time being.
It took a moment for Tsuna to regain his senses. It took another to motivate himself to stand. And it took hushed moaning to move his feet. His bruised hands went to work and his sore legs geared into action and his metaphorically bloodied back clung to his black overcoat.
Climbing and clambering over rough steel and dented cars, he kept going, even with a sudden nonexistent weight on his shoulders when the gradual sound of uncoordinated shuffling and growling fell into his ears. His increasingly sunburned ears.
He doesn't look back (even though he wants too). The lingering fear doesn't let him. Too scared of what he might see. But he knows exactly what he'll see and he's being a pussy. He knows it too. It's not even the fear of being bitten or eaten; it's just the sadness that follows of seeing someone he used to know. He thought he'd shed the last of his tears a long time ago, but apparently he wasn't apathetic enough to keep on caring about his fellow human beings.
Reaching the peak of rusted metal, he looks over the road ahead. Abruptly, the undead behind him became a distant memory; already too far behind. The bright (oh so bright, Tsuna cursed) sun in the sky kept on smiling down at Tsuna and at the far-less welcoming streets ahead of him.
A few scattered corpses lay hazardously, but a few remain standing or idly limping. What ultimately caught his eye though, to his horror, was a baby perched on a huge, overturned truck. Tsuna considered the little guy lucky that no one had noticed him.
He quickly scanned the area. Mindless buzzing could be heard, or it could be just his head, already thinking and planning (his attack, his rescue, his victory). Reacting almost on impulse, almost on the familiarity of the situation, he skid and jumped down, the heels of his boots scratching and screeching all the way to the landing (for he figured, he'd make noise and would attract their attention either way). It appeared that he managed to get the baby's attention as well.
It really was a beautiful day. Maybe, too hot for Tsuna's taste, but he had to admit, the silent street gleamed as he painted the road, the buildings, and anything else in the way with a generous amount of blood. But he was still irritated. He wore this long overcoat for a reason! It protected his skin from penetrating teeth, but was it worth keeping it on if it gave him heatstroke?
He shoved his thoughts aside as he strapped his dirtied machete to his side. He hurried to the motortruck, but stopped when the baby somersaulted and landed a few feet away from him.
Dumbstruck, Tsuna stared as the baby looked up at him and—smirked. His eyes widened, just a little bit more. For one painstakingly slow heartbeat, Tsuna feared he was a mutated (better-looking) version of a zombie. Of course, these emotions were immediately squashed and trodden on in the face of the baby's arrogant and shallow words.
"Not bad, kid. But I didn't need your help. Obviously, I had the situation under control."
Before Tsuna could register the fact that not only was it a talking baby, but also a fancy-dressed, fedora-wearing baby, he raised an eyebrow and said, "Obviously." You prick.