Author's Note: Here's chapter ten! I hope you enjoy!

Guren had already taken three steps before he realized the danger he was hurtling towards. Some creature had disemboweled and mutilated what Guren assumed to have been a once lively circus troupe. He also didn't know what he was chasing after. Judging from the pawprints and the severe state of carnage, he guessed it wasn't some ornery stray.

Still, he refused to slow his pace, only pausing once to re-evaluate the prints for his next turn. If he were smart, he would have run in the exact opposite direction, but he couldn't abandon Shinya.

Guren stumbled to a stop when he caught sight of Shinya standing at the opposite edge of a clearing. His shoulders slumped in relief and he almost called out to him, ready for some snarky comment to cover up his embarrassing worry. However, he frowned when he noticed how rigid Shinya stood, how his eyes were focused on something else.

"Shinya?" Guren ventured, only speaking as loud as he dared. He still couldn't see the creature, but he could smell the same sickly rot smell from the corpses.

"Guren." Shinya's tone was clipped, devoid of its usual humor. He spared Guren a quick glance, but an unseen rumble quickly drew back his attention. "You should get out of here. Has he seen you yet?"

Guren didn't think so. At least, he hoped the monster hadn't been watching him without his knowledge.

"I—" Guren clamped his lips shut and decided that silence might be better. He shook his head, but Shinya was too focused on whatever was approaching to spare another look in his direction. Shinya straightened up with another audible swallow, his splayed fingers widening even more.

Dry hay crackled under a noticeably heavy shift in weight and Guren found himself leaning forward, drawn to the sound despite his screaming sense of self-preservation urging him to run. A large creature lumbered closer towards Shinya, the powerful muscles along its shoulders and back rippling with each step. Shinya took a step back to counter the creature's approach.

Guren blinked, momentarily stunned by the huge creature. Its black-tipped tail flicked and trembled, reminding Guren of the barn cats when they found a wounded bird.

Is that…a tiger? He had only seen them in faded picture books, colored a dingy orange instead of a snowy white. Still, the stripes were indisputable.

"Guren," Shinya insisted again, his voice lower. "Go. I can handle this."

Handle this? Guren frowned, not sure if he should be impressed by Shinya's bravery or concerned by his stupidity.

"Handle this? A bowl of milk and a scratch behind the ears won't fix this." Guren hissed back. The tiger's ears swiveled at Guren's voice, but its attention remained fixed on Shinya.

"This might be hard to believe, but I know him. Sort of. Err—and I'm really hoping he remembers me."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Guren eyed the tiger, shifting from foot to foot. His legs were itching to run, but he refused to leave Shinya or turn his back to the tiger. The idiot told you to go; maybe you should listen to him for once.

However, apart from a low grumbling deep in its chest, the tiger seemed to be calm. It watched Shinya carefully, head tilted at an angle Guren might have called cute under different circumstances.

Maybe Shinya does know him? Guren didn't understand, but he sure as hell wouldn't question it if it meant they would survive with all limbs attached.

Instead of answering, Shinya returned his concentration to the tiger, fingers curling slightly like a weak wave. "Hey, Byakkomaru… You remember me, don't you, boy? Huh?"

The tiger's nostrils flared as it released a breathy snort. It sounded like a rather benign sneeze to Guren, but Shinya's expression brightened at the sound. He even took a step closer to the tiger, causing Guren to smother a frustrated groan under mashed lips. Instead, he curled his loose fingers into tight fists and rolled his eyes helplessly to the tattered bunting above them.

What the fuck is he doing? Now he's trying to get killed.

"Yeah," Shinya grinned, stretching his fingers horizontally rather than keeping them vertical. "You remember me? That's a good boy." The tiger made the same breathy grunting sound, head tilting at an even sharper angle as it followed the motion of Shinya's hands. He murmured soft words under his breath, too low for Guren to hear, though they seemed to soothe the tiger even further.

Guren watched with stifled breath, momentarily trapped in Shinya calming spell as well.

Bang!

A heavy slamming sound echoed nearby, as jarring as a cannon shot. Guren jerked his head towards the sound, eyes darting from dilapidated tents to the town's outer wall. What the—

Shinya turned reflexively, upper body pivoting for a second before his attention snapped back to the tiger. However, the spell was broken.

Either startled by the sound or by Shinya's momentarily lapse in concentration, the tiger snarled and lurched towards Shinya. Shinya stumbled back, tripping over a discarded plank and falling heavily on his backside. He scrambled to get away, kicking at the dusty ground for purchase.

"Guren! Get out of here!"

Gone was the calm and collected Shinya. He tried to keep a neutral expression as he kept shouting the tiger's name, but his eyes were a little too wide and his mashed lips a little too pale.

Instead of fleeing, Guren took a horrified step forward, unable to intervene as the tiger raised a heavy paw. With an inhuman speed, the tiger swatted at Shinya's chest, sending him sprawling with a cry of pain.

"Shinya!"

Guren's knee-jerk reaction was to rush to Shinya's crumpled form, but the tiger's low growling kept him rooted to the spot. He craned his neck, unable to see the extent of Shinya's injury around the tiger's hulking form.

"Shinya! Can you hear me? Damn it, Shinya. Say something!"

No sound or movement from Shinya, but Guren didn't know if it was an intentional decision or an irreversible consequence. The tiger bent its head and snuffled, brushing its stained muzzle over Shinya's pale face.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Guren repeated the phrase in his mind, hating how helpless he sounded. He reflexively patted his pockets for some sort of weapon and felt the jagged bulkiness of his flint. Guren's gaze dropped to the piles of dried hay surrounding the clearing.

That's it!

Guren dropped to his knees and scraped the surrounding hay into a low mound. He imagined the tiger slinking towards him, the sound of paws padding across the dirt drowned out by his pounding heart and muttered curses. He fumbled with the flint, striking the blunt of his blade against the sharpened edge of the stone.

"Dammit. Come on!"

A few sparks exploded from the friction and landed on the pile of brittle straw. Guren stooped lower, resting on his flattened forearms as he breathed life into the smoldering sparks. After a few desperate puffs, the smoldering took off, catching on the dried hay with a satisfying crackle. The fire quickly spread, consuming the hay piles and a nearby tent with indiscriminate gusto.

Guren scrambled to his feet to escape the overwhelming heat, stumbling towards the center of the clearing with hoarse coughs. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted the tiger was too busy snarling and batting at the flames to notice his presence.

Through the swelling curtain of smoke, he could see Shinya struggling to sit up, arms pressed tightly to his chest.

He's still alive.

Guren rushed towards him, dropping to a knee next to Shinya. Shinya recoiled at the sudden shift in movement before realizing who was beside him.

"What happened? Did I—" He glanced around, eyes wide at the fiery carnage around them.

"Can you get up?" Guren interrupted, cutting Shinya off mid-question. They didn't have much time before the flames became inescapable, but he wanted a quick check of Shinya's status before jostling him.

"Yeah, I think. Would you mind, uh—?"

He helped Shinya into a seated position, eyeing the shredded and stained front of his shirt. Shinya shifted his arm into a makeshift cradle against his chest.

"It's just a scratch. Nothing serious."

Guren frowned. It looked like more than a scratch, but Shinya was conscious and his limbs were still attached, so there wasn't a reason to stick around any longer than they had to. He gingerly looped an arm around Shinya's right side and hoisted him up.

"Come on. We have to go."

Shinya swayed on his feet, leaning heavily against Guren's shoulder. He squinted into the thickening clouds. "Did Byakkomaru make it out?"

Guren looked back to where he had seen the tiger, but it was gone. A problem Guren would worry about later.

If I were him, I wouldn't be so concerned about the thing that tried to eat me. Guren shrugged, tightening his grip around Shinya's torso as they staggered towards the narrow break in the fire.

"Don't know, don't fucking care as long as it leaves us alone," he grunted.

Shinya nodded and fell silent, allowing Guren to guide them towards the town's entrance. The sound that prompted the tiger into attacking had come from within the town walls. Something or someone was still inside.

Guren fervently wished for the latter. He had his fill of dangerous creatures for the day.

After they had passed through the main gates, Shinya tried to shrug Guren off, claiming he was fine to walk on his own. Guren let Shinya detangle himself, but he kept an arm hovering near Shinya's back in case he stumbled again.

Guren's gaze shifted from the wound to Shinya's sweat-laced face. He had felt smothered by the heat when they pushed through the fire, but the cool breeze had soothed his flush. Shinya, however, still looked sickly and overheated.

To hell with the tiger and whatever else is here—we need to rest a night here.

Bang!

Guren swiveled his head while Shinya cringed at the sound. It was closer and louder than before, but still undecipherable. A flash of movement caught his eye and Guren saw a thin figure pause before swinging an axe into the side of a house several meters away.

Bang!

"Hey!" Guren called out, taking a step forward. The stranger froze before bolting around the corner.

Dammit.

"Stay here."

"Wha—Hey! Come back!"

Guren raced after the stranger, darting through narrow alleyways and cutting through abandoned houses. He could hear Shinya's confused call somewhere behind him, but he kept running.

He skidded to a stop when he lost his quarry between two empty horse stalls. He glanced around, but jerked out of the way when a sloppily swung axe nearly cut off an arm. The momentum of the swing forced the stranger out of hiding and Guren grabbed his collar and shook him until he dropped the axe.

"You could have cut my damn arm off!" Guren glared at the stranger before realizing his assailant was a kid. Albeit, a tall kid, but a kid who should have known better.

The kid pursed his lips and glanced away. "What else was I supposed to do? You were chasing me."

Guren rolled his eyes, but shifted his grip to the kid's shoulder. "That's beside the point. Come on—we have to go find another idiot." He dared the kid to object, tightening his hold. They backwound through the deserted town, the boy muttering directions when Guren prompted him.

"Making friends, Guren?" Shinya perked up when they reappeared, rising from his perch on a discarded barrel.

The kid's wide gaze dropped to Shinya's bloodstained shirt. "You saw it then? The beast?"

"You could say that."

"Is it—"

"Enough of this. Let's go. Lead the way, kid." The boy hesitated, glancing from Guren to Shinya. Guren couldn't blame him for the hesitation—he would have hated bringing strangers to his safe haven too—but he could blame him for startling the tiger, which meant he could be as gruff as necessary.

"If you don't cooperate, we'll toss you outside the town walls. The tiger has got to be hungry after such a pathetic appetizer." Guren grinned at Shinya, who did not find the joke as humorous.

The boy narrowed his eyes, but led them through the town, nonetheless.

Guren and Shinya each had questions when they finally settled into the boy's home. Shinya was polite, asking for the boy's name. Guren was more direct.

"Where is everyone?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but Shinya interrupted him with a wave of the hand. "Before you answer that—what's your name?"

He looked from Guren to Shinya, searching for a trap or an invisible right answer.

"Uh, Shihō Kimizuki. And every—"

"Great. Shihō, do you have any clean bandages or water? I think I've been horribly maimed."

Shihō nodded before disappearing through a back door. He yanked the handle, but the door bounced against the uneven frame and slowly swung back open.

Guren shot Shinya a glare and crossed his arms. Any concern he might have had for Shinya disappeared. He had thought Shinya's insufferable humor had been an attempt to torture him, but it seemed like he acted that way with everyone.

"Stop distracting him. We need to know where everyone went."

"I thought you said you weren't curious?"

Guren's scowl deepened. "That changed when we ran into a rabid tiger outside an abandoned town with some axe-happy brat as the only occupant."

Shinya nodded towards the door with an elevated eyebrow. Guren fell silent, straining to hear soft snuffles. He shifted in his seat and saw a lumpy bed through the door gap.

"Another person?" he mouthed at Shinya.

"I thought I heard something earlier, but I wasn't sure," Shinya whispered back.

Shihō returned with an armful of supplies and passed them to Shinya, who proceeded to dump them on the floor.

"Is someone else here?" Shinya asked, keeping his tone breezy. Shihō stiffened immediately, eyes darting around the room. Guren figured he was looking for something heavy or sharp, grateful he forced the kid to leave his axe at the door.

"We aren't here to hurt you or whoever's here with you." Guren flicked his wrist, trying to placate the kid. "We just want to know what the hell happened to this town."

Shihō considered Guren for a moment before settling into a distant chair, pulling his knobby knees into a crossed position. "A plague hit the town a few months ago. All the survivors left."

"You didn't go with them?"

He pursed his lips before answering Shinya's question. "My sister, Mirai. She got sick and couldn't move with the others. She's been sick far longer than anyone else. I'm not sure what that means—if she's worse off or if there's a chance she'll get better. I couldn't risk leaving and be wrong."

"And the circus troupe?"

Shihō tilted his head, considering a mental timeline of events. "They arrived about a week ago. They must not have known the town was abandoned. They offered to take Mirai and me to the next town for treatment, but then…" Shihō's expression went blank.

"Then the tiger got free and they told me to run back inside. I haven't been outside the town walls since. Are they—?"

"Gone," Guren interrupted before Shinya could answer.

"Wait—if you haven't been able to leave the town, you must be running low on supplies."

Shihō frowned at his lap.

"You've been scavenging the other houses. Probably not much left now though." Guren reconsidered their first encounter, how Shihō was swinging his axe at the wooden exterior of the houses. "And you've been chopping down houses for wood."

He shrugged. "It's not like anyone's ever going to come back and I need to boil water for Mirai."

"Pretty smart."

It wouldn't be enough, though. Guren considered Shihō's other options. The only way for the kid to survive more than a week would be to abandon his sister. Hell, he was sure the kid knew that already.

"How far is the next town?"

"No more than a day and a half," Shihō answered cautiously, eyes narrowed. Guren raised an eyebrow at Shinya, wondering if he would voice the obvious conclusion.

"Not too bad," Shinya nodded with a knowing hum. "We have some extra supplies and you're free to take what you need. We can restock when we get to the next town."

"Wait a second—"

"Hey, Guren. Where's your bag?"

"It's still at the front gate. But go back to—"

"That's a weird place to leave it."

"I was preoccupied by the giant tiger about to kill you."

Ignoring Guren completely, Shinya turned back to an uncertain Shihō with a bright smile. "Don't worry. Guren will go fetch it for us."

"I'm doing what? What part of giant fucking tiger did you not hear?" Guren tried to sound frustrated, but he was already on his feet. He had planned to check for the tiger anyway and the day's excitement had made him damn hungry. Besides, being in a plague-infested town made him uneasy and he was eager for some fresh, albeit smoky air.

Still, he couldn't let Shinya know this.

"It probably burned up in the fire," Guren continued to complain on his way to the door. "I lost my best flint stone too."

"And whose fault it that?"

"Tch. Ungrateful ass." With a final, fond grumble, Guren disappeared. Immediately, Shinya's shoulder's slumped as he gripped his injured chest with a wince. Shihō's expression, which had been fluctuating from skepticism to bemusement, shifted to concern.

"While he's out, would you mind helping me with this? Didn't have much use for knowing about this kind of thing where I came from."

Shihō nodded uncertainly, rising from his seat and shuffling towards Shinya. Gingerly, he helped Shinya shimmy out of his blood-crusted shirt. Shihō inhaled sharply at the sight, wondering how his strange visitor had managed to stay nonchalant about such a violent injury.

"See? Practically a scratch. It won't even scar." Shinya's tone was light, but it couldn't prompt a smile from Shihō.

The four gashes were short but deep, running parallel to Shinya's protruding clavicle. The inflamed, flushed skin was torn and puckered, still glossy with wet blood at the deepest points.

Shihō did his best to keep his hands steady as he helped wipe and bind the injury. He had smoothed fire from Mirai's brow and mopped fluids from her face dutifully, but it felt different tending to someone else, a stranger.

Ultimately, Shinya's shirt was a lost cause. He seemed more disappointed about the shirt than his wound, muttering about "second times" and things Shihō didn't understand. He only hesitated for a moment when Shihō offered to give him a shirt from his late father.

"Ehh, if we haven't already caught whatever hit this town, what more could an old shirt do?" He shrugged it on, delicately smoothing the oversized fabric over his new bandages.

Shihō said nothing, retreating to his chair across the room. Shinya glanced at him, perhaps waiting for a response, and Shihō shifted uncomfortably. He felt like he was being interrogated in his own home.

"We'll leave first thing in the morning," Shinya continued, when Shihō remained stone-faced. "I really appreciate your help with all this—" he gestured at his bandaged wound "— but, uh, let's not worry Guren with the gory details, all right? This will all be our secret."

Shihō nodded numbly. He didn't like the sound of secrets, but soon this bizarre duo would be gone; he and Mirai would be alone again.

"Good. I know it isn't much, but we'll leave whatever we have left."

"Thank you."

Shinya laughed and shook his head.

"I'll never hear the end of this, you know. First it was Yoichi, now you? Maybe it's best I'm not in charge of the coffers, since I keep giving our stuff away."

Shihō wasn't sure what half of that meant, so he focused on the name. "Yoichi?"

"Oh, right. Yoichi. His sister had been killed by vampires." Shihō glanced at the closed door. "I hope he's doing well."

They fell into an uncertain silence and Shihō excused himself to tend to his sister, making sure to pull the door tight this time.

Alone in a foreign house with nothing to do, Shinya tapped his chin and hummed through pressed lips.

"Hmm. Guren's taking a long time. That would be too bad if he's been eaten."

Thanks for reading!

Kimizuki as a child is tricky as hell to write. I know he might have come off a little Yuu-ish, but I only had a few scenes of inspiration to work with.