XV: Jinora
there's nothing in this world we can't fix

Jinora knows Kai is more worried than he's letting on. She wishes she could tell him that she was alright, but she also knows that she can't lie to him. Not to him. Kai's different, he's special. He's crawled under her skin, settled into her life, and she doesn't know how to get rid of him; she knows she doesn't even want to try, even if caring means pain because if the loss of her family had taught her anything, it was that in this world full of zombies and blood, nothing good lasted. She expects it's a lesson Kai knows better than anyone, and wonders how he can bring himself to look at her with such fondness.

She supposes it's less of a choice, and more human nature than anything else.

Jinora supposes it's also human nature to see the face of the man she killed in her dreams. He pops up far more often than she'd like – sometimes already dead, sometimes he kills her or Kai instead, or sometimes she sees pieces of his life if it wasn't the zombie apocalypse. Would he have been a father, with a wife and children?

"Jin."

The sound of her name gets her to meet his eyes across the crackling fire. "Hmm?"

"You can't keep thinking about it." It. The murder. She murdered someone. "It wasn't your fault. He would have died soon anyway, by bleeding out; if anything you saved him from a long, painful death." Jinora takes a sip of her water flask to avoid saying anything, mulling over his words. What he says is true, she knows, but it doesn't stop the painful twisting of her gut when she thinks about her knife jutting into the man's throat, ripping it apart. The blood running down her arm. She swallows hard, her hands clenching into fists.

"It was either you or him," Kai continues, his tone gentle and soothing, and Jinora relaxes into it, the tenseness in her hands fading away. "And you can't let it be you, for my sake, okay?"

"If you could...how would you choose to die?" She knows she doesn't have so to say Besides growing old and dying in your sleep because it's just about the most unlikely thing she's ever heard.

"Quick bullet through the head," Kai answers quickly, as if he's thought about it in the past. As a Hunter, he probably has, she reasons. "Rather pull the trigger myself than have some zombie get me."

Jinora nods. "The same, if it's a zombie. But if it's a human..." she trails off, her brow furrowing. "I want them to look me in the eye," she says, voicing her thoughts aloud. "I want them to see the light in my eyes fade. Have them know my blood is on their hands. Make them live with it." She looks up to find Kai staring at her intently, looking a little bit surprised - who knew she could be so morbid? - but she also sees the understanding in his dark green eyes.

There's a silence, before Kai says, "Jin, I want you to promise me something."

She eyes him warily. "What is it?"

"That if I got Turned, and came after you, that you won't freeze. That I won't be the zombie that Turns you or kills you." The quiet conviction in his voice throws her, and she wonders how much he's thought about this too.

"I can't promise that." The notion is almost too much to bear: Kai's skin turning gray, yellowed eyes that no longer recognize her, only wanting to kill her. To rip her limb from limb. Her hands start shaking again, and it only stops when Kai reaches over and places his hand in her own, giving it a squeeze. He frowns, his eyes sad, and she accepts his silent apology.

"Did anyone you care about get Turned?" she mumbles, blinking back tears.

Kai stiffens, his frown deepening as he lets go of her hand. "You don't have to promise if I don't have to answer your question."

Jinora purses her lips, nodding. "Alright."

But she thinks the way he lets her take the first watch without complaint, and keeps his back to her for the night - his shoulders shake so slightly she almost doesn't see it - is all the answer she needs.

They're walking along a long road with snow-laden trees lined up on either side; the gravel of the road - an old highway, Jinora figures - is crumbling and mixed in with the snow, the gray the same colour as the endless morning sky stretching out ahead of them. Jinora squints when she sees a rusty green sign, the paint peeling, but as they walk closer she can make out the words.

"It says we're near Doa," she tells him.

"That isn't too far from Yangchen's City," Kai says quietly. "Only a few towns over." As he says the words, the memories come back to her. She (and Kai) had lived on the edge of the city, Yangchen's Avenue to be exact. Before the outbreak. Before everything had changed, and their childhoods had been brought to an abrupt end, the start of their innocence being unraveled.

She wonders how different it will look, if it will reflect the way they've changed too.

"We could visit," Kai adds hesitantly. "Stock up on supplies... But we don't have to, if you don't want to."

Jinora shakes her head. "I think we should. I think it'll be...good for us, in some way."

Kai slowly nods. "I think so too."

When they make camp for the day, they take care of their injuries, stripping away old bandages now blackened from blood from scraped knees or knives. There's a nasty purple bruise blossoming over her lower forearm, from where Ganbat had grabbed her. Kai has quite a bit of work, cleaning up the scrapes and cuts on his arms and face.

Jinora remembers once, playing on the sidewalk and falling, scraping up her knees. Her mother had placed a pink band-aid over it and a kiss. "There's nothing in the world a little love can't fix," Pema had said.

Jinora has to blink back tears. Except, this.