Nostalgia had always had a painful grip on Tomago.
Tadashi used to be a symbol of stability, comfort, familiarity, family.
The feelings lingered around Tomago as they trudged across the open silently. Yet they disappeared as fast as they came, and were quickly replaced with a dull ache in her chest.
"I'm sorry," she breathed out at last, unable to stand the silence.
At this, Tadashi's body stiffened. He jerked his head towards Tomago, his eyes boring into hers with rage so intense that it made her afraid. And when she was afraid she remembered; remembered why they were estranged.
Fear and mistrust.
It should have made her pleased that she had finally gotten an upper-hand. If the situation were different she would have basked in the satisfaction of finally goading some reaction out of the man, but instead, here she was, feeling… guilty.
This pressure, the suffocating silence and the dryness in her throat: they were all physical and emotional reactions she thought she had lost a long time ago. The anger she had felt towards the decrepit world still remained, but it had dissipated into a tiny flame over time.
Now she was simply confused.
It had been years since Tomago had spent more than half an hour in the presence of Tadashi alone. The wound between them had once again become inflamed, but if Tomago were to be honest, the pain had long subsided and now only the smarting itches remained. She wished it was gone, but there was just too many things Tomago could not let go of.
The screams, the smell of blood, Aiko's hands gripping hers tightly.
She didn't even get to see Sara one last time.
Tomago felt her hands trembling and she clenched them tightly into a fist. A salty taste left her mouth as her breath turned erratic.
Those flesh-eating bastards made her lose everything she had in only a day. There was not a moment Tomago had not wished that she would wake up in a painless realm. But she was too much of a coward to die. She feared death and she hated herself for it.
And Tadashi.
Tadashi was her only known living relation. He had indulged her in her blame game for long enough. He knew he needed to let her vent her rage but he did not expect her to become relentless. It turned into a game that she never outgrew. A harmless bite that became a vicious attempt to the throat. But rage was the only emotion she had left and rage she would feel. Tomago was not ready to become the lifeless apparition of herself that she feared. The one who could do nothing more but stare blankly at the ceiling and await death.
She was too far gone and she knew it. Yet she still dreamed of salvation.
Tadashi seemed to notice her change in demeanor, as his expression soon dissolved into another unreadable one. He remained silent, but even so she could tell he was keeping his anger in check. Tomago soon found herself further scrutinizing the pale and tired the person in front of her.
Tadashi's jaw muscles were taught and his grip on his machete tightened as he bore the expression a naked one would when humiliated by lecherous eyes. He was no longer the friend she used to know. No longer the brother.
He was just Hamada. Cruel and callous Hamada.
"What haven't you told me?"
Tomago's breath began picking up again. Her pace slowed as emotions swarmed under her skin. Tomago wanted to give a bitter response, but Gogo- that dormant persona who had somehow inexplicably resurfaced, wanted to sit down and explain things in detail. She wanted to share and finally be able to trust someone again.
She craved comfort in this dark and dank world.
"T…There is a boy. They need you to get him to the SFIT laboratory."
The words tumbled loosely off her mouth and Tomago dodged Tadashi's gaze, the heaviness of confession settling upon her. What she had to say next rolled out of her tongue, feeling thick, unbelievable and sloppy.
"His immunity is the possible cure."
The only sound that followed was the whistle of the wind.
A/N: More frequent updates will follow once November is over. Enjoy chapter 6!