I Trust You.

They sat there, in the break room of the convenience store. Relishing in the fragile safety of the abandoned building.

Their bodies too tired for hunger to register in their minds, they sat there against the wall, yearning for sleep.

Kage glanced at Hinato, catching the exhaustion etched across his face.

“You can sleep. I’ll take watch”

Hinato grunted. “No, I'm fine. If something happens, I need to be there.”

“I’ll wake you if I hear even the slightest noise. I’ve just been hiding this whole time…but I saw you fight that thing” Kages voice dropped “You need your strength”

Hinato glances at Kage

“Don’t be afraid to wake me” He probably should’ve protested more but he was so tired. And Kage was right. If he was gonna be the one protecting both of them, he needed rest.

Hinato slowly shuts his eyes. What forms in the absence of his consciousness takes the shape of his best friend.

He sat at a dinner table, in a house that wasn’t his. To food his mother would never have made.

Across from him sat Alex.

“Why haven’t you taken a bite?” she asked, sorrow pooling in her face.

“I’ll be here,” she said when he stayed frozen, staring at his untouched meal.

Hinato just wanted his mom. He wanted to sit at their own table again, to hear her voice.

A sudden growl broke the stillness—Alex’s stomach.

Startled, Hinato looked up at her. She blinked, embarrassed, cheeks flushed.

He couldn’t stop the small laugh that slipped out.

“Why don’t you just eat?”

Her smile bloomed, bright, like sunlight breaking through. Joy radiated off her, joy at seeing him laugh.

“I’ll be here, Hinato.”

She makes no move to her food.

Hinato looks back down at his food. Makes an effort to pick up the spoon and scoop a bit of Mac and cheese into his mouth.

It is only then Alex takes a bite of her food.

Hinato stared at her. She met his gaze, unwavering.

“Eat. You’ll fade if you don’t.”

He woke with a sharp inhale—not because of danger, but because of the ache in his stomach.

He was hungry.

“Oh! You’re awake!” Kage’s voice is too bright for how tired he looks. “I figured you’d be hungry when you woke up, so I brought some things I found out there.”

He hands Hinato a package of Anpan. Red bean paste bread.

“I’m sorry it’s not more substantial. Looks like other people already cleared this place out.”

Hinato gives a small smile. “Thank you.”

He tears open the package, glances at Kage. “What about you? You may not be fighting, but you still need your strength.”

Kage shakes his head, smiling faint. “Don’t worry. I ate while you were sleeping and—oh, here.” He passes him a half-empty bottle of water. “Only one I could find.”

Hinato doesn’t realize how dry his throat is until the water hits it. He wants to drain the whole thing, but Kage’s watching. So he only drinks enough to take the sting out, then sets it aside.

Kage’s eyes are shadowed. He probably hasn’t slept much at all. Always ready to run if something found him.

“Sleep,” Hinato mutters.

“Huh?”

“Sleep. It’s okay. I’ll be here.”

Kage doesn’t argue. His eyes drift shut, breath evening out fast. Too fast. He must’ve been holding himself together on nothing but nerves.

Hinato sits there, listening to the quiet. His mind already moving. They’ll have to leave soon. Whatever scraps are left here won’t be enough.

His gaze drifts back to Kage. His sleeping face. And Alex’s words echo sharp in his head:

Eat. You’ll fade if you don’t.

Wait—Alex. He’d heard her voice. In his head. Guiding him. Protecting him.

Does that mean she’s out there? Somewhere? Fighting to survive on her own?

He has to find her. He can’t let her suffer alone.

But he doesn’t know where to start. And now there’s Kage too. He has to look out for him.

Hinato looks down at the Anpan, still mostly untouched. He forces a bite.

The red bean paste hits his tongue—sweet, heavy—and his vision fractures.

Flashes.

A woman with short purple hair.

A tall, half-ruined building.

A street sign.

People inside that building.

A storeroom.

The images tear through him. His head spins, bleary, before the fog clears.

Clue or trap.

He doesn’t know.

But maybe it’s a direction. And along the way—they’ll have to find more. Food. Water. Anything.

Kage wakes before Hinato expects it, blinking sleep out of his eyes. His first words take Hinato off guard.

“Are you hurt anywhere? I’m sorry I didn’t ask earlier. I guess it slipped my mind with everything.”

Hinato tilts his head, brows furrowed. “No. I mean—my ankle hurts a little, but it should be fine.”

Kage smiles, small but certain. “I found bandages rolled under a shelf. People must’ve missed them during the raids. I can wrap your foot, if you’ll let me.”

Hinato shakes his head. “It’s fine. I can do it myself.”

“No! I mean—I can’t do really serious stuff, but I can take care of surface injuries. Please. Let me do this for you.”

Kage’s gaze is steady, sincere. Too sincere. Hinato relents. “…Sure.”

Kage grins faintly. “I also found green tea earlier. People usually pass it up since it won’t fill you, but it’s good for inflammation.”

Hinato frowns. “We don’t have hot water.”

“Ah,” Kage glances at him, unbothered. “True. But if you wrap a wet cloth around the bottle, it should, you know… pull out the heat. Enough to make the water warm.”

Hinato blinks at him. “That’s… not how that works.”

Kage’s ears tint pink, but his grin doesn’t falter. “Maybe not perfectly. But it’s better than nothing. Don’t worry. Just a little for the tea, a little for the cloth. That’s all I need.”

Hinato stares, the words caught in his throat. He could’ve told him it wouldn’t work, not really. But the way Kage moved with such intent—rinsing out the container, setting the tea bag in, wetting the rag—Hinato couldn’t bring himself to cut him down.

So he didn’t.

Kage wrapped the bottle carefully, nodding like he’d accomplished something. “See? Now we just wait a bit.”

Hinato sighed, looking away. He could already tell the water wouldn’t change, not in the way Kage hoped. But Kage’s eyes were warm when he glanced up, soft and earnest in a way that felt like sunlight through a broken window.

And maybe that mattered more than the tea.

He watched silently as Kage dipped the rag, wrung it out, and wrapped it gently around his ankle. “Leave it a few minutes,” Kage said softly. “You can’t protect me if you can’t walk.”

Hinato didn’t argue. He just watched him work.

Soon after, when Kage finished wrapping the bandages around his ankle, Hinato broke the silence.

“We need to head out soon. There’s not enough for us here.”

Kage’s hands stilled on the knot. “I know. But…so soon?”

He’d seen how little was left out there—he had. But still, the thought of leaving the thin shell of seclusion that kept them hidden from danger made his chest tighten.

Hinato nodded. “If we stay, we’ll run dry. Food, water. Everything.” His voice was firm, but not sharp.

Kage hesitated, worry flickering across his face. “And go where?”

Hinato’s jaw tightened. He looked past him, eyes tracing the cracked ceiling, but in his mind—he was somewhere else. The flash of purple hair. A building half-collapsed. A sign he couldn’t read. The storeroom. It hit him like shards of glass just behind his eyes.

“…I’ve got an idea of which way.”

Kage tilted his head. “How do you know?”

Hinato forced the answer out, low and flat. “Gut feeling.”

Silence stretched between them. Kage searched his face, waiting for more, but Hinato didn’t offer it. He couldn’t—not without unraveling everything.

Finally, Kage nodded. “Then we’ll go that way.”

Hinato blinked, caught off guard. “You’d trust me on that? Just like that?”

Kage gave a small, tired smile, the kind that softened his whole expression. “You’ve gotten us this far. That’s enough for me.”

Hinato didn’t answer right away. His chest felt tight in a way that had nothing to do with exhaustion. He looked down at the hammer by his side, fingers twitching against the handle.

To put your trust in someone you’ve only just met.

He doesn’t know if he’d consider it brave or stupid but blind trust is something Hinato has never been accustomed to, in himself or in the people around him.

So when Kage offers it so freely, it unsettles him. Part of him almost resents it—how easy it seems for Kage to just believe, to follow without proof. But another part, the one he tries hardest to bury, aches at it. Because maybe he wishes he could do the same.

Hinato looks away from Kage.

“Thanks.” Hinato sighs “We’ll leave tomorrow”

“We should pack what we can find that’s salvageable for the way” Kage suggest “there’s not much in the way of bags but I’m sure we can find something to store them in that’s easy to carry”

Hinato nods and gets up to do just that. Kage had found a nylon eco bag, small and folded shoved under the front counters.

Hinato puts the crushed pack of crackers he’d found when Kage presents it to him.

Kage now joining him in the search, they scavenge under shelves and at the very top of them, trying to find things people skipped over.

They don’t find much, a couple bottles of water and a few more packets of crackers.

“This won’t be enough for us…” Kage worries

Hinato looks in the bag, and promptly looks away.

No, it’s not. But we’ll find more.” His voice was flat, but his chest burned with unease.

Kage studied him, grey eyes piercing, then gave that same soft nod as before. “Alright. I trust you.”

Hinato froze. Just for a second. Then he looked away, hoisting the bag over his shoulder, both hammers heavy in his hands.

“Let’s go back and rest before we have to head out in the morning.”

He led them behind the counter, back into the break room. Sliding down against the wall, his hammers resting in his lap. Secure. Safe as they could be.

Kage sank down beside him—closer than before. Their shoulders almost touching.

“You don’t seem to know how to accept it when I say that I trust you,” Kage murmured, voice low, almost shy. “And I know I just met you today but… you feel safe. So I won’t say it anymore. But just know—as long as you keep feeling safe, I’ll be by your side.”

Hinato stayed quiet. Pretended not to notice the burning stare pressed into his cheek until soft, uneven snores replaced it.

He finally looked down. White lashes stark against pale skin. Too pure. Too soft. He didn’t know how to handle it.

Was it strange that he couldn’t be the same? He’d never been the type to get close easily. Not quickly. That wasn’t him. But Kage talked to him like they’d known each other for years. Like Hinato wouldn’t hurt him. Like Hinato deserved that kind of trust.

God, he misses his mom. He doesn’t understand why this is happening. Why did they have to taint her face with blood and harsh words?Why is it his mother who doesn’t get to rest in peace?

Why doesn’t he?

Why does he have to fight these monsters and, at the same time, carry the weight of everything he’s already lost

He never asked for any of this.

He doesn’t want to do this.

That’s when he hears the shelf placed in front of the front doors crash into the ground.

Hinato tensed instantly. His grip on the hammers tightened until his knuckles burned white. His breath stopped in his chest. His whole body locked, waiting.

A crash. Then a groan.

Not human.

He set the hammers down as carefully as he could and pressed a hand over Kage’s mouth, shaking him awake.

Kage’s eyes snapped wide.

Hinato pointed toward the front, his own face grim.

Kage nodded, trembling, but steady enough.

Hinato reclaimed his hammers, the weight grounding him, and motioned for Kage to stay close. They crept out, step by step, pausing at the corner before the counter. Hinato looked back, making sure Kage was ready, then leaned forward just enough to see.

The creature stood halfway to the counter. Waiting.

And it saw him too.

Its pure-white pupils lock onto Hinato’s.

For a moment, his brown irises flicker—catching the light, almost red.

He doesn’t want to do this.

He doesn’t have a choice. 

He looked at Kage one more time, pulling his heart up from where it had sunk, wrapping both hands around the hammers. He clenched them until the metal bit into his palms.

Then he braced himself.

Because there was no universe—no nightmare—where they weren’t making it out of this alive.