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The Cathedral had been long away now, an imposing structure amidst the cluttered wreckage that had once been something more cohesive and alive. Now they served as a morbid part of the landscape, a reminder of a world not lost to the madness. Away from the potpourri of crumbling buildings and dried-out corpses, stood the few structures left untouched by the Scourge, ensconced within the Cathedral’s steel embrace.
Iwaizumi knew that what the Church promised as safety was fragile at best, pledges uttered out of guilt and mostly, fear. The madness cannot be contained; its beastly reaches spreading everywhere blood flowed, quenched by the tainted blood itself. The best they could do was to kill, to eliminate everything the madness has touched. From the time Iwaizumi took his oath, the sweet taste of blood fresh on his tongue, he knew that everything will end, and begin once again, with blood.
The exit to the city was virtually gone, torn down by the panicked populace when the beasts started appearing, unaware that the problem lie within their very own city walls. A pile of steaming rubble and decomposing flesh took its place, surrounded by hungry monstrosities on the prowl for fresh blood. In the distance, a scream shattered the heavy silence, the sharp scent of copper permeating the stagnant air. Iwaizumi walked on, the heavy steps of beasts rumbling across the floor under his feet as they congregated to the spot of their next feast. He winced, as a tearing sound reverberated through the air like nails scraping against glass. The screaming had ended.
A lone corpse feeder skulked towards him, its slimy tongue darting out to taste his scent before running off, seemingly disgusted. Iwaizumi didn’t let it go further, two rounds of bullets already lodged cleanly inside the beast’s skull before it could even process what had happened. The putrid stench of its blood made Iwaizumi’s mouth water, and he covered his nose, walking away as fast as he could. He ignored the stinging pain traveling down his right leg, a hiss escaping through his lips as he limped forward.
The Cathedral was had been reduced to a tiny pinprick into the distance by the time night fell. Behind him, the sounds of carnage had already dulled into a low din, a different kind of silence wafting around him. Iwaizumi leant against the remains of a steel gate, releasing shuddering breaths as he took a vial of blood from his pocket and without ado, plunged its needle straight into his flesh.
His breathing now steadier, he threw the empty vial away and started walking once more.
It had been seven days. He remembered trekking along the worn-out path for the first time many years ago, when he left to become a priest. It took him seven days, each day taking him further and further, away from the plague and from Oikawa. How many years had it taken him, for him to return for the last time? He wasn’t even sure, going on with blind faith and stubbornness, clinging to the belief that someone would still be alive and waiting for him.
It had been seven days, he muttered to himself, seven days.
The little village seemed untouched, the houses old but still standing. Iwaizumi pushed open the rickety gate, its hinges creaking loudly with the effort. Dust puffed up in clouds as his boots scraped across the ground, his footsteps seemingly louder in the wide, empty space. A short breeze blew in from the west, ruffling yellowing leaves off the trees, the loose buckles of his boots tinkling together. The sound was short, spreading throughout like a small wave rippling through the water. He was truly alone.
He slumped backwards, his legs meeting wood as his vision became blurry, a static film over his eyes. His muscles were seizing, throbbing with pain unimaginable as he tried to get up. Gritting his teeth, he reached into his robe for the last vial of blood left, injecting it into his skin. He immediately calmed down, his bloodstream welcoming the new supply. It was the last one, he mumbled to himself, the last one. He threw it away, glass meeting wood in a loud crash.
“You shouldn’t raise a ruckus, Iwa-chan, you’ll wake up the neighbours.” A voice, familiar and distracting, came from behind him.
Oikawa smiled down at him, face dust-streaked and tired, yet still, it was Oikawa.
“Seven days.” Iwaizumi croaked out, licking his dry lips. “I walked for seven days. You’re still alive.”
Oikawa’s eyes flashed, twin pools reflecting something painful. “Yes, I’m still alive. Welcome back, Iwa-chan.”
When Iwaizumi told Oikawa that they have to go back to the Cathedral, where he’ll be safe, he promised that before he left (he remembered that promise), Oikawa didn’t put up much of a struggle and just told him,
“Let’s walk, Iwa-chan. We have seven days.”
And so, they started to walk.
The first day bled into the first night, the evening air cool against their faces. Oikawa fell into step beside him, linking his fingers with his. Iwaizumi closed his eyes, the warmth of Oikawa’s hand calming his erratic heartbeat. He relaxed, for the first time in years since he left, since they parted.
“What did you do while you were away?” Oikawa asked him.
Iwaizumi sighed softly, resting his head against Oikawa’s. “I became a priest.”
Oikawa snorted. “I knew that already.”
The sun blazed angrily, its heat scorching everywhere. Oikawa whined, rolling up his sleeves and clamoring for some cool air. Iwazumi zoned him out, his focus firm on their destination. It was only the second day. He barely felt the heat, even with the thick layers of his priest garb. Oikawa was just exaggerating, like he always did.
“Did you pass through here often when you travelled for your work?” Oikawa asked, out of the blue.
“Yes.” Iwaizumi pointed to the east, where he had gone to a few years ago. It was a small town, an easy job. He had completed his mission within the day, it was a small job. It was easy.
Oikawa looked towards the direction he was pointing at, squinting. “What’s over there?”
“A town. A small one.”
Oikawa didn’t say anything, still frowning at the distance.
“What’s the matter?” Iwaizumi asked.
“Nothing.” Oikawa said, then as if he said something he shouldn’t have, he shook his head. “It was nothing. Let’s go.”
His leg had started to ache, a dull pain throbbing within his flesh. Oikawa had noticed, of course, and offered to help him walk but Iwaizumi refused. He had suffered through many injuries, most of them almost resulting in his death. They were all fixed up easily with some blood, blood heals every wound. He needed blood. Clutching inside his robe, he felt for the cool glass of the blood vials but found none.
“Here.” Oikawa said, close beside him, holding out a vial. Gently lifting up the outer layer of his robe, Oikawa injected the blood calmly, as if he was used to it.
“Thank you.” Iwaizumi breathed out, sweat beading at his temples. The pain was gone but the rush brought on by the fresh blood was dizzying, heating up his every pore. “Where did you get that?”
“A corpse we passed by.” Oikawa replied, throwing the glass away with more force than necessary. He scrunched his nose as a faint tang of blood seeped out from the broken vial.
“It felt different.”
“Yeah.” Oikawa bit his lip, refusing to look at him.
Iwaizumi breathed in a lungful of air, regaining his bearings. Standing up, he held out his hand to Oikawa.
“Let’s go. It’s just the third day.”
A pack of beasts blocked their path, their snouts fresh with dark blood. Iwaizumi immediately moved in front of Oikawa, pulling out his gun and sword. One of the beasts lunged forward, fangs bared, ready to bite into his flesh. He shot twice, plunging his blade immediately deep in its skin, through muscle and brittle bones. The monster whined, crumbling into a heap. Three left.
Two of the beasts made to attack, clearly targeting Oikawa. Iwaizumi ran forward, swinging his sword in a wide arc, slicing through the monsters’ flesh. He wasted no time, riddling them with bullets. They should be destroyed, exterminated from the earth. He has to kill them all.
A hand, strong and firm, gripped his shoulder. Iwaizumi blinked, his arms dropping to his sides. Oikawa held his wrist, nudging the gun out of his hands and placing it back in its holster.
“They’re dead.” He said.
“Yes,” Iwaizumi gulped, panting. “Yes, they’re dead. I killed them.”
“Did you kill a lot?”
“Yes, I killed a lot.”
“Of monsters?”
Iwaizumi closed his eyes, faint screams still ringing in his ears. He could hear their voices, the words they said, what they told him, hands gripped tightly on his blood-soaked robes…
“Not only monsters.” He said.
Their fourth nightfall had fallen.
The fifth day, it was the fifth day. Iwaizumi sniffed, smelling the damp scent so familiar to him. The scent of the City, air heavy with blood and misery, wafted through the air. They were close, the Cathedral is close.
“Back there, the town you said you went to,” Oikawa asked, his voice faint. He was a few steps behind him, checking for any beasts waiting to ambush them. “What did you do there?”
Iwaizumi paused, licking his lips and tasting gunpowder that wasn’t there. That town, it was a small one, an easy job. “I rid their town of beasts.”
“What did you do exactly?”
The gunpowder scent, which he could only taste, now filled his nostrils. Dry heat lapped at his cheeks, dust and grime coating his skin. Now it wasn’t only gunpowder, sulfur mixing with iron and copper, and his boots were suddenly wet, soaking wet with thick, dark, blood…
“We bombed the town.”
There was a small pause. “Why?”
“It was a small town. They said, it was an easy job.”
Colors had started to blur together, sickly red mixing with weak yellow. He called it the sky. Oikawa had his arm around his shoulders, supporting him as they walked. Iwaizumi tried to focus on him, trying to look at his face. Oikawa was a mess of blue and brown, sharp spikes and soft waves. He laughed.
“You look funny, Oikawa.”
Oikawa pouted, Iwaizumi knew, he knew how Oikawa pouted. “Stop teasing me, Iwa-chan or I’ll leave you alone.”
“I can’t see your face clearly.”
“It’s the heat, the stupid sun keeps on getting hotter.” Oikawa spat, adjusting his grip on Iwaizumi’s waist.
“I want to see you.”
“I’m right here.”
Iwaizumi could feel his eyes burning, moisture threatening to spill out. He couldn’t, not when he didn’t have any water left in him to shed. He just wanted to see Oikawa, but he can’t. It was only the sixth day.
He felt himself being laid down on the ground, Oikawa positioning him against a tree. Iwaizumi sighed softly, closing his eyes to quell the moist heat gathering at the edges. Oikawa sat beside him, or was it across from him? He could feel his hands on his cheeks, where he sat didn’t matter.
A shadow fell, casting a bit of relief from the glare of the sun even beneath his closed eyelids. He felt Oikawa’s breath against his mouth, before soft lips wrapped around his own. Oikawa kissed him tightly, his hands so warm yet hard against his cheeks.
“Remember this, instead.” Oikawa muttered against his mouth.
“I will.”
A soft blue spilled out over the orange sky, heralding dawn. Oikawa held his hand the whole way, his fingers entwined so tightly Iwaizumi was sure he won’t be letting go. The fuzzy outline of the Cathedral was visible even with the light morning fog. Iwaizumi tugged on Oikawa’s hand, urging him to hurry.
Oikawa hesitated, pulling against his hold. They stopped, breathing hard for different reasons. Iwaizumi wanted to hurry, they were so close.
“Let’s go.” He said, gripping Oikawa’s hand.
“Iwa-chan.” Oikawa’s grip tightened on Iwaizumi’s fingers. “If it had been me, back there at that small town, would you have-”
“No.” Iwaizumi said firmly. “No.”
“But why?”
“Because, I said so.”
“That’s so stupid, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa choked back a sob. “You’re so unfair.”
Iwaizumi stepped closer, reaching out to hold him but Oikawa pulled away. “We have to hurry.”
“..Yes.”
“..Iwa-chan?”
“-alk to me! Can you… –ear me?”
“…-wa-chan! Iwa-chan!”
The Cathedral loomed over him, steel and iron in all its glory. Iwaizumi blinked, wondering why he was horizontal, bracing himself on his elbows. He immediately fell down, his muscles refusing to cooperate. Red crept at the edges of his vision, bleeding into the scenery.
“They told me, I had seven days.” He whispered. He knew Oikawa was there, behind him, it was his lap he was resting on, he knew.
“I know.”
“I had to find you. I promised.”
“I know.”
“I did it.” Iwaizumi swallowed the lump in his throat. “You’re safe.”
“Yes. Always been.” A sniff. “Thank you.”
“I told you not to follow me.”
“Someone had to.”
They were silent. The heavy gates of the Cathedral started to creak, slowly being swung open. Iwaizumi gripped Oikawa’s fingers, hard.
“You have to kill me now.”
“We still have a while left. This time, I’ll wait.”
At dusk on the seventh day, Oikawa Tooru, priest of the Church, entered the gates of the Cathedral by himself.