Zombies


A/N: Special thanks to Brokenshardsofmyheart99, who would've checked this if there had been time. This is something I imagined, but in the opposite way. So rather than just keeping it to myself, I'm sharing.

Disclaimer: I do not own YYH, but I hope I own this plot.

Warnings: BL, AU, possible OOC, cross-dressing (sort of), yaoi smut (later on), character deaths, and BAD writing.


Like the newspaper in his hands, the sky apprehended many hues of gray. Tiny drops of liquid began to fall, all forming an endless and somewhat random barrage on the waterless. Raising his head, he looked up to the sky once more, trying to locate one drop and seeing it fall to the ground. It was a game he often played, most often than not by himself and in isolation.

The women walking past him, however, interrupted his game. With a sigh, he bowed his head and began to walk with them. They all sought shelter, so he walked with them toward the house of a friend of his. As always, the door was unlocked, welcoming all to it. There were the occasional exclusions, though, none of which walked the streets often.

Once inside, he sat by the window while the rest of the women headed toward the kitchen. Most of the women headed there to replenish their stamina, while others went there to talk about their day. While they did, he took out the newspaper and began to read it. There were no crimes reported, there almost never were.

If one had been committed, it would have been the day's hottest topic. Most of the newspaper was filled with cooking and cleaning tips, advice for mothers, the weather, and advertisements. After going shopping today, reading about clothes and shoes would be mundane. Turning to look out the window, he shoved the newspaper from his lap.

Women and their daughters walked with umbrellas, but not many of them were outdoors. There was the occasional pet, but other than that, not much out of the ordinary. Standing up, he straightened his dress and walked toward the kitchen. Helping the women cook was at least something he could do. Not to mention it offered his gratitude to the owner of the house.

Before he could ask one of the women about what they were making to eat, the front door opened. Most of the women turned, kind smiles on their faces, while others remained with their backs turned and focus on their tasks. Along with the majority, he turned his head toward the door, but not with a smile. As soon as one of the women stood up from her chair, the rest turned to face the door.

In front of them stood a man. The collar around his neck was rusty and the chain was broken. That indicated that he had belonged to someone with plenty of money. Seeing a rogue with a broken chain and dressed in almost nothing but tattered rags, some of the women reached for the kitchen knives.

The man was weary and starving, from what Kurama could tell. Unlike the rest, he was nearer the man. From his stance, he could see the man's body shake. The eyes he had were distant and glossy, as well as dark, even though the color of his eyes was red. If he survived this, Kurama was certain that the man would die in a day or two.

Walking towards the man, he heard women beckoning him toward them, back to safety. Once he stood face-to-face with the man, he became aware that he had no weapon in hand. Also, he noticed the sharp weapon in the man's hand. Both stood, staring at one another, with silence in the air.

It had to be broken, though. The first noise was not caused by him, though, it was the man in front of him who grunted as he raised the sharp tool and aimed to pierce Kurama's flesh. It was simple enough to evade the attack from a weary man. He stepped to the side and once he was clear of any danger, he raised his arm and brought it down. The palm of his hand made contact with the man's shoulder, which he then applied pressure to. It caused the man to fall face-down.

Most of the women flocked to his aid with their knives in hand. However, before they could detain him, the man stood up and snatched his arm. By the angle he was being held, it wasn't difficult to detach himself from him. Rather than fighting back, he resigned control to the weary-looking man. The women stopped in their tracks.

"Let her go!" A woman with long hair and blue hair had shouted. Since he wasn't released, it was apparent that the man was not about to listen to their demands. "We've got the police coming, you know. If I were you, I'd avoid anymore trouble."

The sharp weapon was brought to his neck. It should have made him squirm, but it did not. There was something about being held by a rogue with a weapon that took his ability to fight away. Brining his body closer to the man's in order to get a better look at his eyes, he cleared his throat. At in instant, he got it.

"She has a point. You should not make your situation any worse. The police will execute you for it. Why not live for another day?" he asked, knowing full well he was not about to be answered. Having the weapon brought closer, he closed his eyes. "I'll give you immunity," he uttered, bringing the room to a quick silence.

As expected, the first to speak out was his blue-haired friend. "No way! Kurama, that's too much to give to someone like him. Think about it. If you do, you're responsible for him and anything he does. Surely there must be another solution. He deserves to rot away in a cell for even touching a woman!"

The man had loosened his grip on him and the knife was brought further away from him, too. "No, Botan. Call off the police and don't mention this again. I will give him immunity. Thank you for allowing me to come here, Keiko. Forgive me for not being able to help you in the kitchen."

The brunette in the back, shook her head. "My door will always be opened for you, Kurama." She eyed the man behind him and said, "Please, if you need any help call me. It was generous of you to give him immunity, but you should be careful. The chain was broken, not taken off. He's probably murdered someone."

With her words sinking in, he nodded. "I understand. Thank you." Grasping the man's wrist, he looked at him. "Put the weapon away. I'll lead you to my home." It took a moment, but the man did as he was told. Although he had hidden the weapon, the man refused to release him. Walking down the steps outside was rather tricky, but they did it somehow.

Before turning away, he saw the look of fear and worry in the women's eyes. Some of them still clutched the knives, knowing full well they could do no harm to the man, no matter how much they wanted to. Their desire to uphold the honor of women made them want to injure the man, for it was not allowed to have men be superior to women. Nor was it allowed for a man to be seen without a woman, holding on to his chain.

Being treated as if he were a man, which he was, was far different than what he had always thought it would be like. The rain was great. It concealed them from a world, in which both held no power in reality.