A/N: All dialogue comes from a direct translation of the manga.
Of Scars, Teeth, and Blood (An Apocalypse no Toride Fanfic)
Shōran Juvenile Detention Center
Inmates: 124 - 97 dead
Guards: 20 - 19 dead
Others: 3 - 1 dead
Yamanoi had suspected for days that he'd fucked up royally. The sting in his shoulder told him something was wrong, but he didn't feel different. He ignored it all and focused on the more immediate problems: the ravenous zombies, the delusional guy and his infected son, the Bokor vivisection, the whack-job cultists, the rest of the ape-like inmates, the rations… there was so many things to distract him.
Stop thinking about it, dumbass, he told himself. The Sea Firefly: was it even possible to get there in one piece. The distance, the obstacles, the… what the fuck? As they debated the doctor's proposition in Kiyoharu's office, he felt two of his loose teeth break free.
When was the last time I had something to drink? he thought as he worked up moisture in his parched mouth and he spat them into his palm.
"You gonna run that broad's little errand for her or not?" Kiyoharu asked. Behind him, the dumb blonde hung off the back of his chair, her mind regressed back to that a little girl. She mumbled a nursery rhyme as they spoke.
I guess she's pretty, if big boobs and fake blonde hair are your thing, Yamanoi dismissed her.
"I want to go and help her make a cure," Maeda said, looking at his boots. Somehow he was still wearing the steel-toed ones they'd stolen on their way to the Self Defense Force compound.
Yamanoi, momentarily distracted by Maeda's unusual bravado and forgetting the grim artifacts in his hand, opened his balled fist and looked down expecting to see freshly bleeding welts to punish his failure.
Instead of bloody wounds, he saw the old scars that bisected his palms and the yellowed teeth, the roots crusted over with dark red flakes of blood, as if they'd fallen out days before, instead of moments ago.
Yellowed teeth, Yamanoi sighed. Mother would be so disappointed, but one does not always have time to practice good dental hygiene during the Zombie Apocalypse.
He searched his mouth with his tongue, interested to know if the socket was as dry as the teeth. Starting at the back upper right molar and running his tongue all the way around the top, he found no such hole. He continued the search along his lower jaw and again, found no place missing a tooth. Maeda had healed that fast when he'd fallen off the building, but he was infected…
Yamanoi stared at the teeth as his awareness of what was going on around him narrowed down to those two bits of enamel. He answered Yoshioka's questions, rattling off the story he'd heard on the phone, but he did it out of instinct alone. He heard the conversation around him, participated in it even, but as soon as the words were said, they were gone. His mind couldn't process all the information.
Why me? he thought. He wasn't as pure and naïve as Maeda. He wasn't as pretty as Yoshioka. He wasn't as strong as Gou. But he was quiet, a deep thinker, and a messed up mother-fucker, waiting for the next crack of the whip. He was a fuck-up and this time he was going to pay for his lack of excellence with his life.
I'm going to die, in this forsaken shithole without ever knowing how this happened. It is all my fault, mother. You're right, you were always right. I deserve this.
Sweat dripped down his forehead and slithered down his nose, collecting for a moment at the nosepiece of his glasses before the thick, wet drops splattered onto his hand, wetting the dried blood and turning it an anemic red.
With his other hand, he lifted his glasses momentarily, allowing the rest of the moisture on his face to flow unimpeded.
"You must understand mother doesn't like to hit you with the whip Mitsuru-san." His mother's voice mocked from the deep, dark past. She always used the honorific –san even though she'd given birth to him. It was incredibly impersonal, yet at the same time, for her to call him anything else would have been disrespectful to the space between them.
"If she can do what she says, then there's a chance I can recover from this infection, right?" Maede said, finally looking up.
Yes, he wasn't the only one infected. Maede's moment of infection had been startlingly clear, but his had most likely occurred when the Bokor scratched him during that hellish chase.
The bitch doctor said she could make a cure if she had blood from a person infected with the F-Virus. What could she do with two samples? Two samples had to be better than one, right?
But do I want a cure? There is something… exciting about the possibilities of being something new, something that feels no pain, something that recovers from even a mortal injury… something that does not scar.
"I think I should go too," Gou offered. Then Maeda turned to Yoshioka who after a ridiculous speech about heroism, agreed to come as well.
"What about you, professor?" Yoshioka asked him.
"Heh. I'm coming. Sounds like I'll have the chance to see a lot of interesting things," Yamanoi, answered, pushing his square institutional issued glasses up his long nose. Either way, cured or not, Yamanoi wouldn't miss the trip for the world.
Shōran Juvenile Detention Center
Inmates: 124 - 97 dead, 4 away on a suicide mission
Guards: 20 - 19 dead
Others: 3 - 1 dead
My thanks to MissScorp, who beta read this story!