"20 degrees to the right."
There's a shift of movement, so smooth Abe barely registers it in his periphery. A deep breath, held for a moment; then the crack of the gun firing, so loud it rings in Abe's ears even with the minimal cover of his palms pressed to them. There's no time to wait for the echoes to fade; he's letting his hand fall instead, pointing off on the horizon like the other boy is watching his gestures at all.
"Quarter turn, towards the east. A pair, one right behind the other." Abe brings his arm up, this time, presses the dirty sleeve of his jacket over his ear. It seems to work a little better to stifle the sound of the double shot, the two coming so quick he almost can't believe Mihashi really took the time to aim.
He does believe it, of course. They wouldn't work as a team if he didn't.
"Last one," he declares, pivots his shoulders so he can pick out the movement far on the horizon. "6 degrees west of due north. There's a tree in the way but he should come out from behind it in a second."
Mihashi turns as ordered, takes a breath, lets it out. It's odd how calm he gets like this; Abe expected him to crumble the first time, still always has a moment of swooping vertigo-panic whenever a new rush of zombies comes. But when he's got the scope pressed to his eye Mihashi is perfectly steady, his breathing even and smooth so as to keep the sight of the rifle itself steady.
Abe's distraction costs him the cover for his ears. The last shot reverberates off the trees, rings through his head so he hisses at the pain, is still grimacing when Mihashi's shoulders tense and he looks up for confirmation.
"A-abe-kun!" When he stands all the grace of his angle on the ground vanishes, his feet catching on each other until he's in some danger of falling and his voice too loud from the earplugs he still has in.
"I'm fine," Abe insists, reaches out to pull one of the foam cylinders free so Mihashi can actually hear him normally. "I'm fine, I just didn't cover my ears in time."
Mihashi's eyes go wide, and Abe can see the words at his lips even before he shifts his white-knuckle grip on the gun to slide the other earplug free. "Y-you should-"
"You should," Abe cuts him off, drops the other soft foam into Mihashi's open palm and shoves the other's fingers to close back over the pair. "You're the one who's shooting, you're a lot closer than I am."
Mihashi fold without further resistance, hunching his shoulders in on himself and wrapping his fingers tight on the earplugs. Abe resists the urge to sigh, if only barely, doesn't do more than roll his eyes when the other boy takes a half-step back to sit on the ground and press his knees to his chest.
This isn't the partner he'd have chosen for the apocalypse. There are any number of better alternatives he's thought of, over and over through the nights he spends in solitary watchfulness. Someone stronger, maybe, a fighter or a forager or just someone who has anything like a backbone, who can stand up to a shout or an argument without falling to pieces. But Mihashi is what he has, in a sea of endless enemies, and Abe is what Mihashi has, and he is determined to keep them alive long enough to meet some of the other partners they might have had.
That means exerting himself towards a gentleness that he has to strain for, shutting his eyes and running a hand through his hair so he can pull a facade of patience over his voice. "I'm fine," he says, and it sounds gruff in his throat but he can hear the little gulping inhale from the other boy that says Mihashi is staring at him like Abe can somehow piece back together the ruins of their world. When Abe glances back Mihashi's eyes are wide, drinking in the sunlight until they appear to be giving off light of their own. The observation pulls Abe's gaze down to note the thin lines of the other's face and the ever-darkening shadows under his eyes, and he frowns before he can call back the expression. Mihashi starts to cringe back from the grimace and Abe speaks, quickly before he loses the other's attention again.
"You should get some rest." He straightens his shoulders, turns to look out at the field in front of them, now still and unmoving as it should be. "I'll keep watch and wake you when the next wave comes."
There's a tiny inhale, the sound of fragile resistance forming, and Abe speaks before Mihashi has a chance to. "I'll be fine," he says, the word sliding off his tongue with over-familiarity. "You need to get as much rest as you can." He doesn't say that he can't sleep with Mihashi watching for him, that he jerks awake startled and terrified from nightmares of the other screaming for help Abe's too late to offer. Abe knows he can't go on like this, stealing half-hour naps when he's too drained for his brain to materialize even nightmares, but he doesn't see a better solution yet, and for now they don't both need to be exhausted.
"I'll keep watch," he says, pushing to his feet so he looks steady, as long as his expression is hidden. From the back, where Mihashi is sitting, Abe is certain he looks calm and strong and reliable, and that's the only perspective he has to worry about right now. "I'll keep you safe, Mihashi," and saying it out loud helps, makes it feel real, like an unbreakable promise. "Rest."
It has the taste of a command, grants his shoulders the strength he's desperately striving for, and behind him he can hear Mihashi let out a breath of submission and relief in equal parts.
Abe can understand that, the comfort of giving someone else control. If that's what it takes to give the other boy the reassurance to rest, he'll keep up the pretense as long as he can.