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“Sei,” Furihata sighed, “There’s no point doing this, it’s just going to get worse and I’ll be-”
“Just focus on the map Kouki.” Akashi interrupted sharply, not wanting to hear the rest of the sentence.
His fingers remained gentle as they cleaned around the wound on Furihata’s thigh, which was a deep, uneven cut that had come about following their quick rush and Furihata’s unfortunate scrape against some barbed wire.
Despite his silent prayers, the infection was worsening, the perimeter of the wound an alarmingly bright red. This paired with Furihata’s rising temperature and fatigue did not spell good things.
He knew keeping the area clean was paramount, which was difficult to do when you had nothing that functioned as disinfectant. Akashi hoped that maybe with enough soap and bandages the cut would self-clean and Furihata’s body would be able to fight the rest. Evidently such a wish had been naive.
If only Akashi had pushed harder maybe they would’ve been able to find some antibiotics on their last run, more medical supplies, alcohol, anything with more utility than a stupid map (and not even a proper one at that - a gaudy tourist map!) that ultimately they might not even have needed. If he had not decided to tempt fate it was likely Furihata wouldn’t even have gotten hurt in the first place.
Ironic, that one of them finally got an infection after managing to avoid it for so long and they couldn’t even blame it on the cordyceps.
Akashi quickly noticed his grip on the washcloth had become too rigid. He made a conscious effort to relax his muscles, his temples pulsing with the tension in his jaw, and gave the task at hand his full attention, ensuring to keep his touch light.
He chucked the current rag and took out a new one, saturating it with clean soapy water and continued cleaning as much gunk as he could. It was no doubt painful, the area not only injured but also raw with infection, however the other didn’t so much as wince, resolutely tracing paths on to the map, his lips pursed in concentration.
Akashi winced for him, feeling a phantom pain everytime fabric brushed against scarlet red skin, hoping his fingers provided a small amount of relief - Furihata liked to frequently remind him how cold Akashi was, which was bad for intimate activities but apparently perfect for soothing fever-heated skin.
Furihata broke the silence once more, voice hesitant and careful. “Sei…this is not worth the time or trouble, plus you’re wasting a lot of drinking water.”
“I’m not wasting it.”
He didn’t need to look up to know Furihata was frowning. A warm hand came to rest on his shoulder and he tensed, disliking the direction in which the conversation was heading (again).
“You guys have to go on without me, this can’t be stalled any longer - I’m already a liability as it is. We’re so close , you have to get Kuroko to that lab-”
“You’re not a liability and the world can wait a few days, those reclusive scientists aren’t going anywhere. Maybe they shouldn’t have made themselves so inaccessible, if they wanted others to help.”
Furihata rolled his eyes, clearly irritated with Akashi’s tenacity. “We’re running out of supplies and the closest settlement is one hundred and thirty kilometres away. That's a lot of walking. You need to save everything you can right now, water being priority.”
“We have enough to cover that and if not we’ll find something.” Akashi said bluntly, hoping his tone would be enough warning to cease the argument.
Furihata of course had no wariness of him like most of the others did and continued regardless. “We don’t, and especially not at the rate we’re burning through it re-cleaning my wound.”
“We will find something.”
“That’s a risk you’re willing to take? Fine, that aside, how do you think I’m going to walk all that distance in this state?”
“I’ll-”
“Don’t even suggest a piggy back, come on! As I said, me continuing with you guys will make things pointlessly difficult. You can come back for me once Kuroko is at the lab, it’s not like-”
Akashi’s heart twisted with such strength it momentarily punched the air out of him. “ ‘Come back’ for you? Like this? The infection is getting worse seemingly by the hour. Sepsis takes very little time to develop, without any intervention you will be dead within twelve to twenty four hours, depending on how far it has progressed already. ‘Come back’?” He repeated hotly. “If this is some sick attempt at humour I regret to inform you it is very much unfunny.”
“Why are you jumping straight to sepsis, there’s still time-”
“Kouki, you don’t need to act dumb to help my feelings.”
“I’m not! If it gets that bad-”
“Which it will, because it has already been a day and we have nothing on hand to help it heal.” Akashi interrupted.
“-It will be fine for a bit still, I’d rather you not waste your time while you and the others could be getting the cure and saving the world!” Furihata huffed, throwing his arms up in frustration.
“I couldn’t care less about the world and the cure right now!
“You don’t mean that!”
“You have no idea how much I mean that.”
Furihata was evidently taken aback by the statement because he opened and closed his mouth a few times, unsuccessful in getting out an answer. The ensuing silence between them felt physical in its oppression.
Akashi hadn’t wanted to snap, wasn’t the type of person who typically would, but his nerves were frayed and he was more stressed than he’d ever been since the spread of the virus. His moral compass was the last thing he wanted to be discussing.
Akashi knew Furihata didn’t understand, would likely never understand, how much he meant to him. All these years Akashi had one goal, one motivation that kept him going: Furihata. Whenever he felt particularly ambitious the possibility that they could find a way to live again, not just survive, together , was also an equally compelling force. They’d talked about it every now and then, particularly when slightly delusional from too many sleepless nights: having a house in the city, back in Kyoto, surrounded by swathes of camellias and an energetic dumb dog.
Without this, did Akashi care for the survival of humanity? Not particularly, no.
On top of that, a part deeper within him, something that was dark and selfish and a little twisted, was glad for the cordyceps virus - without it, he’d never have met Furihata to begin with.
This was the calibre of person Furihata was trying to drill the concept of ‘greater good’ into; it simply wasn’t in Akashi’s capacity.
He was brought out of his thoughts by arms easing him back, Furihata and his scent surrounding him in a comforting hug.
“Look,” Furihata started, voice soft, “I’m not trying to antagonise you on purpose, but please, we have to be reasonable about this. It’s easy for you to say such things now, but how about when it’s someone close to you that gets the short end of the stick? Someone you care about?”
“You are the someone Kouki.” Akashi leaned into the embrace, eyelids feeling like sandpaper against his dry and tired eyes as he closed them in a brief moment of respite. “The cure, Tetsuya’s immunity, humanity - it has no relevance if you’re gone. I would rather spend the rest of my life like this, trying to survive this hellscape, than not have you in it.”
Surprisingly Furihata didn’t offer any rebuttals. He hugged Akashi tighter instead, sighing into his hair and following it with a kiss to his temple. Akashi heard the words that went unsaid: Furihata was disappointed in him.
He couldn’t do much with the feeling it inspired but let it pass; Akashi would never see the merit in such self-sacrifice.
He looped his arms around Furihata’s waist, mindful of his thigh, and slumped into him, allowing himself the small indulgence. Furihata was unusually warm under him thanks to the fever and Akashi was reminded that he’d need to go and find some compresses for him later.
The lingering bitterness of their argument slowly eased out of him as Furihata caringly combed through his hair.
Their breathing soon synced up and suddenly things didn’t seem so bleak - for a moment, if he didn’t focus on his thoughts too much, all seemed good.
The peace didn’t last long however, as he knew he had to continue. He patted Furihata's side and the other loosened his hold, letting Akashi free. The accumulated heat escaped him as soon as he left Furihata’s hold and he reflexively shivered through the chill that travelled through him.
He prepared his station once more, thoroughly cleaning his hands and boiling another batch of water, flitting around the space with strips of makeshift gauze and medical tape to have everything within easy reach.
Just as he sat down on his stool, his eyes caught on the bright, gaudy colours of the novelty map in Furihata’s lap and a small marking within it. Frowning, he picked it up for inspection, noting that there was a patch of land singled out with a dotted line, right across a frayed section of the map where it had been folded over time and time again.
“Kouki…you said this was just a souvenir?”
“Yeah, I don’t think it’s that useful, there’s just a bunch of mascots, mazes, and treasure hunt trails on there. And some sort of flower garden marked out to the east, which I don’t think will be there anymore if we want to go sightseeing…”
“It looks like that zone is for a theme park. A small one, but this is what the symbol must signify.”
“Uh yeah, probably.”
“And it looks like we are here, in this little cropped woodland - this box looks like the warehouse we’re in, with the railway to the west?”
“Um…right…?” Furihata said, tilting his head to examine the small area Akashi had singled out with his finger.
“If the scale on this is accurate, there is potentially a theme park only five kilometres away.”
Furihata giggled, shaking his head. “I’m sure we could find some old themed trinkets but I doubt we’ll get much use out of the roller coasters.”
“We can certainly try.” Akashi jested, mood rising exponentially at what this find could signify. He couldn’t help his growing smile, giddy with renewed hope. “But think about it - we could get provisions, hopefully find some shelf-stable food, bottled water, clothes. But most importantly, medical supplies.”
“Oh my god! How did I miss this!” Furihata exclaimed. “New clothes would be so good right now, and something sweet would help with Murasikabata-san’s crankiness.” He said, chuckling. “Why do you think there will be medical stuff there though?”
“They have to have some provisions for first aid at these sorts of places, people fainting or getting sick on attractions, trips and falls, general injuries. I doubt they would stock any flucloxacillin, but anything that could assist in sterilising your wound would help greatly and would give us more time to find antibiotics.”
“Ah of course, they’d have to have something then!”
There was a possibility, as always, that the park had already been raided for supplies and that it was teeming with the infected, but the small glimmer of hope that they could find something to help with Furihata’s injury was enough for Akashi to not care about the odds.
They discussed potential entry points and the best path to take to avoid rough terrain and any hotspots of the infected, calculating travel times. Furihata even brought up utilising the railway line as a tracking path, which of course he would - forever the train enthusiast. That idea had to be shot down but Akashi, with his newfound optimism, agreed to take him to see the tracks (and maybe even a station) when circumstances allowed for it.
He re-dressed Furihata’s wound best he could, criss-crossing the fabric in sufficiently tight neat lines. It was difficult to see with the candlelight continually flickering from the draught and so Akashi leaned closer as his fingers worked the cloth.
Finally they were done. He looped his arm under Furihata’s knees and encouraged the other to hold on as he lifted him, heading towards their bed while Furihata babbed about the dangers of rollercoasters and the statistics of ‘onboard fatalities’.
Their bed, like everything else in the shack, was dinghy and worn, with the springs in the mattress peeking through in some areas. It was the best one they’d found in the area, which had taken a lot of convincing as well; when they first found the dwelling, a warehouse with a caretaker outhouse (of sorts), Furihata said the spare room with its almost-alright bed was to be assigned to Kuroko on the basis of his severe insomnia.
Akashi had been strongly opposed to this, naturally inclined to ensure his partner had all the best resources and all too aware of Furihata’s altruistic tendencies. They argued while everyone settled in, Akashi explaining that Furihata had a bad injury and needed the extra ‘luxury’ over everyone else, Kuroko included. The privacy, although not the main concern, was a welcome bonus.
He was extra happy now that he’d held his ground on the matter (Akashi did not often win such battles), thinking how much more needlessly difficult this would've been if they were camping with everyone else in the main warehouse.
Akashi tucked him in, keeping Furihata’s leg slightly elevated with a pillow to help with the swelling. Furihata fell asleep almost instantly, the events of the day and the strain of the infection on his body obviously having taken a heavy toll, his breathing even and rhythmic. It was a soothing sound that relaxed Akashi in turn, although he wasn’t able to fall asleep as quickly, mind buzzing with their discovery.
He turned and nestled in close to Furihata, savouring the proximity and feeling the pleasant restlessness that came with being excited. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone to sleep excited for the next day.
They’d get through this and beyond. Akashi would get Furihata the house in the city with camellia flower pitchers and a golden retriever and one day they would look back on all of this as though it was just a very long nightmare, one they’d reminisce about with a time-aged detachment.