***CONTENT WARNING***

Graphic depictions of corpses.


THE UNWEPT

The boy squeezed his eyes shut, shrinking over the soft cold on his lap. His fingers curled over a handful of frosty cloth. Everything hurt, but for a moment, nothing did—that was, until he tried to peek over his folded arms.

Beneath the pale gray of bare branches and haze, he'd woken up to a feast of crows. Like boiling tar, they picked, ripped, gouged the flesh as it slowly warmed up under the morning sun.

It hadn't been a nightmare.

Was he dead, too? He had held on to Sakura, trying to keep her warm during the night. He had tried to shove her away, kicking and screaming for someone to help. He had shouted at her for leaving, for lying, for saving someone else.

He didn't wanna be alive just 'cause. Didn't wanna die where no one even knew his name.

But as he lay there, his cheek flat against a stone-cold back, he didn't have it in him to even look away from the crows. Maybe that was what dying meant—being so numb you couldn't even move anymore…

But that thought didn't last.

A sharp peck snapped the boy's focus and he hissed, his hand bolting to soothe the sting. In an instant, the crows took to the air, their wings batting furiously in protest before returning to their breakfast banquet. But one had taken notice of him, clear as day in his black, beady eye. "No!" He cried when it started nipping at Sakura's toes. Hurling handfuls of dirt and pebbles, he fought the damned bird back. But it kept coming again and again—nipping at the hem of her dress and downing the shredded cloth like worms.

Tugging desperately at her, he tried to move her away—but it was like dragging a bag of rocks: cloth and skin slowly tearing with every tug. "'m sorry…!" He whimpered as Sakura's knees grated against the ground.

His arms burned. His legs shook. But her feet were still dragging, and the crow still pecked at her toes. If only she wasn't so heavy, if only she could help him just a bit, then—

Then his legs buckled.

He hit the ground. Hard. Sakura's head struck his chest like a rock, her weight knocking the wind out of him. For a moment, the world went dark—but he couldn't sleep just now. Flailing, he wriggled out from beneath her. But as he did, she bit him, and as he jolted, he dragged her head up along with him… He shrieked.

With empty eyes and bloodied teeth, she lunged at him. The boy shoved, but her flesh gave like melted wax. He kicked her away. Something tore off his chest.

Scrambling backward in a panic, he braced himself—she would crawl back again, teeth and empty sockets and all… But she didn't move. She just lay there. Limp. Quiet. With the same empty stare everyone around them had. That wasn't big sis. Not her. Not with her face purple and blotched, her mouth and hair crusted with blood. That had to be a monster, a thing from the mountain—it had to be.

But what if…?

He crawled towards the body, his hand trembling as he reached out. At the touch of its rubbery flesh, he cowered back. His heart pounded inside his head. It had Sakura's thick eyelashes, hanging heavily over its gaze; Sakura's small, rosy mouth, wide open as if frozen mid-yawn. Swallowing hard, he reached out again, this time more steadily, almost tenderly.

With numb fingers, he traced the dry tears in her cheeks down to the corners of her lips. There, the boy paused. Something was caught in her teeth—some torn piece of reddish-brown cloth. He looked down to his chest, where she'd latched onto as he tried to push her away. His coat, crusty with blood, was ripped there. The fabric reddish-brown too, like the one in her teeth. It— the body, it hadn't bitten him. It hadn't tried to take him down with it. A tooth snagged his coat. Nothing more.

All around him, not even the bandits dared to move. They couldn't. They wouldn't. There were no vengeful ghosts… They were just… dead.

He choked back a sudden sob. He hadn't wanted to reach Nozoki—would have done anything not to get there that night. But this… this wasn't what he'd meant.

And no one was coming for them.