White Heather– Protection; good luck

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Izumo ran to the tree carrying Sachi. Tsukumo ran behind her and she was pulling Torako with her other hand. "Rin said to climb the tree no matter what!" She told Torako when the woman protested at the prospect of climbing. The woman had trouble, so Izumo made sure she didn't fall. She'd slipped a few times, but she made it. She was trying to figure out a way to get both Tsukumo and Sachi up there when Bon ran in to her.

"I'll get Sachi, you make sure Tsukumo doesn't fall." He told her, taking the baby. Both little girls were crying. Bon shushed Sachi. "Shh, shh. It's okay, Papa's here now. You have to be quiet so monsters don't come back, okay?" He told Sachi. She sniffled and nodded, bottom lip still trembling and face blotchy red.

He put Tsukumo on the highest branch he could reach, then let Izumo climb up before him. "Sachi, listen to me." He said. "Hold onto me as tight as you can while I climb, okay?" At her nod, he put her on his back and she held onto him with her tiny little fists like a monkey. It felt like it took an hour to climb carefully to the roof, but they did it successfully.

Just as they reached the roof, they heard a BOOM! and saw smoke coming up from somewhere outside the apartment complex. "That was Rin." Izumo murmured. "He probably got out. You'd be surprised how well he can slip out of bad situations." Bon assured her.

"Well, all we have to survive on right now is some blueberries from that blueberry farm we found earlier and a bottle of water. Hopefully, we won't be stranded up here." Izumo sighed.

They sat and watched the smoke curl into the sky as the dead flocked to the source of the commotion.

§~•~§~•~§

Shima had no idea who was behind him and Konekomeru. At first, he'd thought it was the corpses following them, but they were too fast to be the dead. It had to be someone from their group.

"Shima, we can stop now!" Konekomeru panted. The two stopped. They sent over, trying yo catch their breath as whoever was behind them stopped too. "Man......you......can really move when you......want to, can't you?" Shura gasped. She and Shiemi took gasping lungfulls of air right beside the two boys. Both boys had forgotten they'd been holding hands while running and hadn't let go. Shima went to retract his hand, embarrassed, but Konekomeru's smaller hand squeezed his. So the black-haired boy kept holding his hand.

They caught their breath for a while. Shura just happened to look up and notice a series of tree houses all connected to each other and wonder for a second who they belonged to.

–Right as a net snapped up around them and they were thrown into each other.

Shura cursed in butchered English and struggled, but it did no good. Konekomeru was practically laying on top of him now, still holding his hand. "Shut up, lady!" A voice hissed from the tree they were dangling from. "Do you want to get overrun by those things?!"

They all looked up to see a woman in some kind of armour wielding a handgun and a spear across her back. As they watched, more and more people stepped out of the treehouses. And they were all women. Shima had a bad feeling in his gut about this. Anytime there had been a group of all females in a zombie show or movie, they'd been like vicious Amazons–warrior women who were ultra strong and kept men as slaves to reproduce and do their dirty work in Greek mythology.

He really hoped these women weren't like that.

"Are you married?" The woman from before asked. She was looking at Shima and Konekomeru's intertwined fingers. Shima tensed up, not sure what to do. He felt Konekomeru shaking against him. The small teen curled up more against him and Shima squeezed his hand in reassurance.

"Yes. Don't tell anyone though." Shiemi answered for them. She, Torako, and Rin were impeccable at English. They'd all been practicing talking in English and teaching the little ones English so they could communicate with anyone they ran into in America. They'd been practicing on the ship the whole time, so they were pretty good at it, but Japanese accents were hard to get rid of after growing up speaking Japanese so fluently and only learning some butchered rendition of formal English.

"Why can't we tell anyone?" The woman questioned suspiciously. Shima wondered what Shiemi was playing at. "They're terribly shy and it's really new. Please don't make anyone focus on them too long. People make them nervous." The blonde answered pleadingly.

"Ah. Anxiety?" The woman guessed. Shiemi sighed and nodded while Shura rolled her eyes. "People were not kind to them in the Old Times." She muttered, reaching over to pat Konekomeru's shoulder. The boy flinched and held Shima's hand tighter. Wow, they were really playing this off, huh? Shima ignored his blush as he waited for the verdict.

"Then we won't take you. We keep men as service members, but we spare those who do not wish to make young with women." Shima furrowed his brows. "W-What's that mean?" He stuttered. "We won't take you guys. You're together, we won't hurt you. These two beauties however....." The woman turned a hungry gaze onto Shura and Shiemi.

"Do you wish to be with us? We have plenty of fighters and plenty of resources. You'd have to pull your own weight, but surely if you've survived this long on your own, you're very capable. Strong, by the looks of it." She was eying Shura's biceps and Shiemi's legs.

Walking around Japan for most of their journey, then walking around and training on a huge battleship that was difficult to navigate earned you some solid muscles. I've always wanted to be built at least a little bit. All I had to do was wait for the Zombie Apocalypse. Go figure.

Shima held down the snicker at his own thoughts. He could feel Konekomeru's heart beating hard against his chest and wrapped his other arm around the smaller teen. He'd grown during this whole thing and his hair was actually starting to get shaggy, but he probably wouldn't ever be as tall as Shima, maybe barely Rin's height. His dad hadn't been a very tall man and his mom had been shorter than his father. The short genes just wouldn't allow the teen to grow much taller.

".......So, wanna join up? We could be strong together. We could make good memories and survive this until the world comes back to it's senses." The woman was saying to Shura and Shiemi when Shima came back out of his thoughts.

"Do it." He murmured to them. "What?!" Shura looked at him like he was nuts. "Do it. You should be safe. You're good people." He told them, voice still quiet. He had to act shy.

Konekomeru shifted and hugged Shura. "Stay here until we're back. It's best for you." He whispered in her ear, too quiet for anyone but the people in the net to hear. He hugged Shiemi next. "We'll come for you. Rin would want it to be like this until we're back together." He whispered to her just as quiet. She nodded just barely.

"O-Okay." The blonde nodded to the woman. She seemed overjoyed and other women grinned wide. They probably didn't come across new members very often. "Can I ask for something?" Shura spoke up. The woman raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"Our friends here.....they're strong, but all our supplies are gone. We just lost them in a mob. Do you think you could spare just a little? Just a day's worth? Please?" She requested. She looked pleadingly at the woman. The woman looked skeptical, but once Shiemi turned the puppy eyes in her, she sighed before cracking. "Fine. Just a day's worth." She relented. Shura smiled relieved. "Thank you so much."

"A woman who takes care of her people is a respectable woman." The armoured woman told her. She signaled to a couple another warriors and the net was pulled up so they could clamber onto the tree house.

Konekomeru stayed tucked into Shima's side the small span of time it took the women to gather a bag of food and water. Shima, without thinking, leaned down to plant a kiss on the smaller boys cheek. Konekomeru blushed, but didn't tense up or freeze. The woman that had caught them smiled at them, handing them their bag. "I wish you well." She said. She lowered them back down in the net and they set off into the woods, holding hands with their weapons in their free hands.