CH 3.

I awoke to a beam of light from the nearby window shining in my face. I could see the dust particles interweaving their way through the air in the light, but today I payed them no attention.  I had better things to do now. More exciting things to see.

Hindered by my drowsy muddled morning thoughts it took me a minute to realize I was alone amongst the splotchy blue sheets. I sat up slowly, one hand rubbing my bloody eye, and the other stretching towards the sky. My back cracked with a satisfying pop. I blinked slowly taking in how the room looked in the golden morning light. The brightness of the light made the lavender walls seem softer by comparison, the shade of a cloud brightened by a sunrise. The gold accents along the trim positively gleamed. The air was cold and crisp, it smelled fresher then the decay-filled scent of the air at the hospital. Sniffing absentmindedly I could almost detect a hint of lilac.

I debated about giving into the frigid air's protests and sinking back into the warmth and security of the comforter, but my stomach demanded attention. I swung my legs out from under the blanket and off the bed, noticing I was still wearing the hiking boots Viktor had given me. I felt guilty wearing them into his bed, I hoped I hadn't gotten anything dirty. So I wouldn't track mud anywhere else in his house, I took them off. They were slightly too big anyway- even with the paper stuffed in the toes.

The socks he had lent me were honey-tinted with a faded pattern of daisies scattered across the ankles. I curled my toes, admiring the stretch and feel of the synthetic fabric. I liked the socks he had chosen. They were bright and happy. It was almost like I could just look down at my feet and be reminded of Viktor's colorful house. One gaze in the direction of the ground and a smile would find its way into my face, unfailingly.

My stomach rumbled again, evidently upset I had chose to ignore it for so long. Frowning, I got up and slowly started towards the door.
There was something... odd about me that day, I could feel it.

I paused for a moment, trying to evaluate what could've possible changed about me over night. Nothing came to my mind immediately though, so I kept walking. I opened the door in one fluid motion, and walked down the stairs smoothly, my hand resting daintily along the banister during my decline. I stopped at the bottom of the stairwell to stretch again. I was mid-yawn both arms in the air when it struck me what wasn't right. I hesitantly took a step forward. And then another step.

And then another.

My limp.

It was exactly, gone per say. I still walked like a person with a recovering ankle injury. But it was less prominent today. My steps were less clunky, more put together. It wasn't nearly as painful to watch me walk forward constantly almost toppling over.

With awe in my eyes, I looked down at my sock-clothed feet and smiled. I watched them as I took another step. The smile on my face gradually began to grow wider and wider until my cheeks hurt with the effort of the pure joy contained on my face.

I took a step.
And then a faster step.
And then an even faster step, and so on and so on until I was practically running down the long elegant hallway of the colorful house.  As I was running (if you could really call it that...) I felt a light laugh in my chest. It clawed its way up to my throat and bubbled out without my consent.

My limp was healing. I couldn't believe it.

While my limp was healing, my coordination was still somewhat lackluster. I realized this after several steps of my pitiful excuse for running when I promptly collapsed in the living room with a cacophonous "crash".

After a quick analyzation of my body, I came to the conclusion I didn't hurt anything (besides maybe my pride.) Viktor, however, having heard the noise sprinted into the room as fast as he could.

"Yuuri!" He cried out, his voice sounding surprisingly desperate, his face contorted with worry.

"I'm fine..." I groaned, sitting up from my pitiful position on the wooden floor,
"I just fell."

Viktor's face went emotionless for a second. But gradually a smile grew on his face.

"Yuuri," he laughed "you nearly gave me a heart attack- I swear you'll be the death of me."

I grinned sheepishly, lifting one hand to rub the back of my neck in embarrassment.

"Sorry." I said, averting my eyes in mild shame.

"Hey." He said softly, walking towards me.

I glanced at him breifly, startled by the rapid change in the tone of his voice. He knelt down next to me, gently gripping my chin and forcing it upwards to maintain eye contact with him.

"It's ok. I was just worried about you."  He smiled reassuringly at me.

His close proximity was causing me to somewhat malfunction. My lips parted open in shock. I could've sworn my eyes quadrupled in size. My hands had gone stiff with numbness. I don't know how long we sat like that. Time had almost stood still- it could've been years for all I knew. My tongue felt too heavy to speak, and sat in my mouth like a dead weight. And so I sat slack jawed and numb, and completely confused.

He laughed a gorgeous twinkle, that sounded more melodic than it did a laugh. He let go of my chin and stood up, brushing his hands off on his pants. Then he offered one to me. I looked at it, and looked back up at him. He raised an eyebrow and I came to my senses. Frantic and flustered I accepted his offer to help me up. He pulled me to my feet rather unceremoniously.

"My limp." I managed to croak out after regaining use of my tounge. My throat was dry, unusually dry.

"What about it." Viktor said, looking at me curiously.

"It's healing."

Now it was his turn to look dumbfounded. He blinked once, then twice, then stared down at my leg.
"It's..." he trailed off, then suddenly looked at me again "healing?"

I nodded, a grin slowly blossoming across my face. A similar grin soon mirrored on his expression.

He laughed in disbelief "your limp is healing." He reiterated.

As if to prove it I took a few steps towards the doorframe across the room. I turned around to see his reaction. He was smiling. It was one of the most genuine smiles I'd seen on him yet. It was so real I almost tripped when I saw it. I could practically feel the warmth radiating off of him. I opened my mouth to say something. I don't know what I would've said, but I felt like something needed to be. But before anything could come out, my stomach growled again, like an unhappy toddler tired of being annoyed. Viktor laughed.

"Come on, I made breakfast. Let's go eat. We can go see my friend after."

Breakfast was expired baked beans on stale toast. I'd never eaten anything better.
...

I was in awe of my surroundings. They were better than anything I could've imagined. We were standing close together in a city square. Living humans bustled all around me, shining with the undeniable, incompressible hue of life.

Viktor had told me the only way to get to his friend's office was through town. He said that with my new 'makeover' (as he liked to call it) I could almost pass for human. He gave me a hat though, to cover my face in case someone dared to look too closely. It was a nice little hat. Originally it must've been white, but it yellowed with age. Small vines of embroidered emerald ivy creeped along the front in confusing patterns.

A lady bumped into me with a jarring jolt. Her hair was as red as a sunrise, and her skin as pale as snow. I loved the striking difference of her vibrant hair against her mellow skin tone. The opposites complemented each other perfectly.

"Sorry" she murmured sounding anything but, as she hustled into the crowd swiftly. My eyes followed her until she disappeared from sight completely. She didn't even look at me.

I kept my eyes wide open as we walked into town, consuming everything visual about the stronghold with a mildly terrifying need. Taking on all the sights, sounds, smells. Viktor on the other hand, kept his head down and his eyes trained on the cracked cement sidewalk. He too was wearing a hat. A simple black beanie to cover his uniquely colored hair.

"I don't want to attract attention to myself. I'm pretty famous around here." He'd said when I questioned him about it.

The streets were alive. The buildings were alive. The humans were alive. Alive, alive, alive. Everything was so alive. The streets pulsed with the rhythm of life like an invisible heartbeat. Feet slapping against the cement. Laughter in the air. Talking, honest to God people talking. Having conversations with each other. There wasn't a hint of moaning in the air. Not a single sign of the undead.

Alive.

There was just so much around me, I was quite frankly a little shell-shocked. I never wanted to leave. I never wanted to go anywhere else or see anything else besides the inexplicable joy in the street of the run-down town.

I guess maybe that's why I was so bitter when we finally arrived at the office. The building was one of the drabbest I'd seen. A short one-story structure the color of grey sludge. The shade of the snow after weeks of being trampled on. The hue of a zombie's skin. Dead and lifeless and cold. The walls were cracked and the siding was moldy and falling apart. Semi-White trim ran around the house, stained brown with mud.

"We're here!" Viktor chirped happily, stopping in front of the ugly building.

When he first said that, I hoped he was joking. The whole building reminded me of the hospital. The dark grim miserable hospital where I rotted away staring at flecks of dust. It even had the same bright Red Cross painted on it as the hospital did. It hung above the door crudely painted in a bright blood red. It appeared to be oozing and dripping even though the paint itself was dry and cracked, flaking off from the harshness of the wind.

I opened my mouth to protest. To laugh. To scoff. To make some indication that I didn't want to go there. But before I could, Viktor started walking down the narrow stone path leading to the chipped grey door. He didn't even pause to knock once he arrived. He just pushed it open and strolled into the hideous building as if he owned the place, and he had every right in the world to be there.

He looked arrogant when he strolled in, and that left an uneasy feeling in my stomach and a bitter taste in my mouth. The disgust the building gave off was starting to affect me. I hesitantly followed Viktor into the grey.

If I thought the appearance of the building was bad, the smell was downright torturous.
It smelled sharp and clean and vaguely of rubbing alcohol. It smelled like the scent of the hospital. Even thought it was covered by layers of decay and death, the poignant hospital smells still hung heavy in the air of my old home.

Just when I was getting too lost in my thoughts, too deep into the flashback of my former residence, Viktor cleared his throat.  I looked up at him and he smiled.

"My friend is in the other room, I'm going to go say hi and introduce you, hang behind the doorway until I tell you to come in. He's not the, uh, most accepting person about your- condition." Viktor spoke quietly to me.

I nodded and followed him to the doorway entering into the next room, hiding behind the wall next to it. He walked into the door frame, a smile glowing on his face.

"Hey!"

A voice on the other side of the wall spoke up, it sounded young and angry "Viktor! What the fuck were you doing yesterday. JJ said you needed help but when we got to the wall you were gone!"

Viktor shifted on his feet uncomfortably and raised a hand to rub the back of his neck,
"Yeah sorry about that..."

"You better be." The voice growled.

Viktor gave a curt nod into the other room, and then briefed a quick glance at me.

"Hey, I came here because I need a favor..."

"Of course you do. That's why you always come here. Is your arm hurt like JJ said?"

"No, I have a... friend that needs your help actually." He looked at me and made a gesture to follow him.

I walked into the room following his lead. The other room was small and cramped, hospital supplies lined one wall, medicine on shelves lined another, and the last contained a large wooden bookshelf. Eventually my eyes focused on the human Viktor was talking to. He was just a boy, no older than 15. Soft blonde hair hung down in long locks framing the sides of his face. I turned to Viktor, who was standing next to me, to ask what I should do. Before I could open my mouth though, he reached an arm around my shoulder.

"Take the hat off." He whispered in my ear.

I obeyed, ruffling the hair on my head in an attempt to make it look presentable. Tearing my gaze away from Viktor I looked at the blonde.

His eyes met mine and he looked me up and down, scanning every inch of my face. The longer he analyzed the more horrified he looked. An expression of full blown terror enveloped his face as he stumbled back, tripping, falling over the things in the room. Scrambling to get away from me.

"Viktor!" He cried, his voice no longer low and angry but high and shrill, absolutely filled with fear,
"Why did you bring one of them-" he spit the words out like a curse, "into the walls."

"Yuri, stop." He told the struggling boy calmly, his voice even and his hand raised in a reproachful manner.

"No, Viktor what the actual hell, aren't you supposed to kill them- shoot it!" He was practically screaming now. I started backing out of the room, I was slightly afraid of the young boy and I felt guilty about the distress I caused him, but Viktor stopped me.

"Yuri- listen. He's different, I'm not sure why, but he is."

He turned to me, his eyes pleading. "Say something." He whispered.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and opened my mouth.

"Hey," I said "I promise... I won't h-hurt you."

The second the words rang from my mouth he stopped struggling. His face paled and his mouth opened in surprise. His eyes were as wide as saucers, shock replacing the horror that was previously in them.

"Y-you can talk?" He asked in disbelief.

"Yes." I answered simply.

"We need your help," Viktor said, "we want to find out what's different about him, why he's like this."

The blonde looked and Viktor and swallowed, his showy adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

"Alright." He said hesitantly, "but you owe me big."

Viktor sighed in relief, his chest physically sagging.
"Thank you." He told the boy.

The blonde fixed a pointed look at me, a look of pure disgust on his face.

"Does IT have a name." He asked Viktor.

I felt annoyed by this, he was talking like I wasn't even there- like I didn't have the mental capacity to answer my own name. I scoffed.

"My name... is Yuuri."  I told him.

"Yuuri?" He sputtered out indignantly, turning to Viktor he shouted, "you did NOT name your pet zombie after me!"

"That's the name he told me!" Viktor replied defensively shrugging, "And besides he's older so he would've had it first."

"I'm not his... p-pet." I threw in helpfully.

"He's not my pet." Viktor agreed.

The boy, who I assumed to be named Yuri, rolled his eyes.

"Whatever" he spat out, "it's just going to be confusing. That's all."

It was one of the most passive aggressive sentences I'd ever heard. Teenage rebellion practically dripped off of him like sweat.

"Simple solution, we can call you something else.... how about yurio!" Viktor responded brightly. Chipper as always.

Yurio's face grew red and splotchy, "wha-what!" He sputtered out, "that's the most stupid thing I've ever heard! And besides why change my name- I'm actually alive unlike some people in this room. If they can even be counted as people..."

He was vicious and cruel and hated me. The more I realized this the farther I felt my heart sink. He wouldn't be any help to me if he hated me so much. Viktor however didn't seem to be disheartened at all.

"Oh come on Yurio, he's our guest!"

The boy glared at Viktor upon hearing his new nickname.

"Whatever," He spat at Viktor. "Let's just start with the examination."

...

The table where he had me sit was cold and metal and hard against my body, I shifted uncomfortably. Everything in the room was giving me ugly flashbacks to the festering hospital base, from the rusted IV racks to the crinkly paper sheets on the dull hospital bed.

The checkup had been unpleasant so far to say the least. The small blonde boy had shined a flashlight in my eyes, ears and mouth, taken a blood sample using the longest needle I'd ever seen, hit my kneecaps with a hammer (though I got revenge by kicking him), checked for "scoliosis", taken my weight (which brought a new wave of insults about, most revolving around "Dead Pig"), and taken my blood pressure.

Viktor was on the other side of the room admiring the book shelf that lined the wall. I even had to admit it was pretty impressive. The shelf was a grandeur, tall and dark. Deep brown oak wood shelves lined with tightly bound leather books in every color you could image. Sizes varied from pamphlets to novels that weighed the shelves down with their excessive number of pages. Yurio noticed my prolonged staring.

"They're medical books." He explained, gaining my attention.

"Have y-you really... read all of them?" I asked quietly in awe.

"You don't get called a medical prodigy for just sitting around and rotting all day." He said with a sneer, unwrapping a rusty metal stethoscope from around his neck.

"This is just a standard procedure," He told me, not without malice, placing the object in his ears. "Seeing as you're dead it isn't necessary, but I like to be thorough with my checkups."

He reached over and unbuttoned the top few buttons of my cotton flannel, placing the silver circle on the center of my chest. It was surprisingly cold, almost like ice. I had to refrain myself from jerking away upon touch. Instead I watched the circle on my chest. I tried to sit as still as possible, I didn't want to be a difficult patient and give him anymore reason to hate me.

My thoughts were interrupted by a sharp intake of breath. Startled I looked up. Yurio's eyes were wide and confused. His lips were parted slightly in surprise, and his eyebrows were furrowed. Viktor walked over, placing a warm hand on shoulder. I glanced briefly at the soft pale hand and smiled. The warmth he gave off almost completely eradicated the frigidness of the heinous medical equipment.

"What's wrong." Viktor questioned, concern thick in his voice.

Yurio blinked, closing his mouth and opening it again, giving off a vaguely fish-like presence. He swallowed, a noticeable gulp that showed in his throat. Then suddenly, with a concerningly composed gracefulness, he slipped the stethoscope out from under my shirt and the pieces from his ears. He closed his eyes and breathed in, turning his back to Viktor and I.

"Your pet zombie has a heartbeat." He told Viktor, his voice shaking slightly.

The room went silent, as we all took in this information. Quietness stifled the room, I felt almost like I was suffocating.

"W-what?" I asked, not sure I had properly heard.

"I said," he retorted, annoyance lacing his voice, "that you have a heartbeat."

He hurled the words like a weapon into the cramped room. I blinked in confusion. Did that mean that I was alive? From what I understood most humans counted a heartbeat as life. Before the apocalypse people in hospitals were considered dead if their heart stopped and they flatlined. I opened my mouth to question him further, but Viktor beat me to it.

"What does that mean exactly?"

Yurio finally turned around. His hands curled in fists at his side.

"I. Don't. Know." He admitted through clenched teeth.

"Am I alive?"I asked him. I hated the way my voice sounded desperate. I didn't want to admit weakness in front of this boy. He seemed like the type to analyze everything about you- every little flaw, and when the time was right he would use it all against you.

"I. Don't. Know!" He reiterated, sounding even more frustrated.

"I need to go write something down and see what the books say." He told Viktor abruptly, and then left the room with heavy steps.

I turned to face Viktor. I couldn't detect what he was thinking. Emotions passed on his face at a million miles an hour, one second hope flickered on his lips, the next confusion dawned in his eyes.

"Does this mean you're alive?" He asked me, as if I hadn't just asked Yurio that.

"I don't know," I replied honestly, my voice a little bit shaky. "Maybe I'm... a little b-bit dead and a little bit alive."

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe I am alive, if I... do have a h-heartbeat. But maybe I'm more dead than alive."

Viktor blinked, stunned.

"I don't... know." I shook my head and bit my bottom lip. "This entire thing is t-too confusing."

Viktor moved his hand off my shoulder, and instead placed it on my hand that was resting on the table. It was nice. His hand enveloped mine, warm and soft, like a blanket. His other hand he used to softly grab my chin, pushing it up slightly so I was forced to gaze in his eyes.

"We'll figure this out Yuuri. I promise." He said with a smile dancing on his lips. His previously confusion-muddled eyes lit up brighter now with the prospect of hope and determination.

I looked at him, and he looked at me. I felt like I couldn't breathe (even more so than normal). It was like his eyes had put me in a trance. Nothing else mattered, nothing else around me existed, except for the clear piercing blue eyes before me. His features didn't look sharp in that moment. They looked soft, his hair looked soft- he looked soft. Soft and warm and inviting and beautiful, and goddammit why could I stop staring at him. His eyes held steady with mine until they flickered down briefly, to glance at my lips and back. We stood like that, like deer caught in headlights, neither of us daring to move but at the same time both desperately wanting to flee. We stood like that for whet felt like forever.

Or, at least until Yurio walked back in the room.

"What the hell! Get a room!" Rang his voice, dripping with disgust.

Almost at once we sprang apart. I felt my face heat up, a blush racing down my cheeks and flushing my ears. I expected him to yell at us more, but surprisingly enough he dropped the topic as soon as he saw my face.

"Interesting," he hummed, completely forgetting about being angry, "you can blush."

"Y-yeah." I stammered out, still seething with embarrassment.

He cleared his throat and wrote something down on a clipboard he had brought in with him.

"I'm going to ask a few questions. I need you to answer them honestly. If you don't I will not be able to properly diagnose you, and there will be no possible way for us to figure out what you're like this. Do you understand?" He talked to me as if I were an ignorant kid, though it was obvious he was years younger than I.

"Yes."

"Ok, first question. What is your name." He asked in a monotonous voice.

"Yuuri." I quipped back quickly.

"No last name?"

I stopped for a minute. Did I have a last name? I wracked my memory, combing through every inch of brain- every piece of information I had stored to see if I could remember. Just when I was about to give up though, I remembered.

"Katsuki."

"Are you sure?" He sounded skeptical.

"Yes." I said with a nod of my head.

"Are the other zombies like you. Can they talk and think and breath?"

"No. I haven't M-met any like me."

"What traits do you posses that deviate from normal undead behavior?" He inquired further.

"I need to sleep," I started, "I can eat human food. I can b-breath. I dream....I can think independently, i can... sing, I can b-blush, I can... talk, and apparently I have a h-heartbeat."

He nodded and scribbled furiously away.

"Do you produce waste?" He asked me.

I shifted uncomfortably on the table. "That's a little... personal..." I said.

"I'm a doctor, I'm supposed to ask invasive questions. That's how I know what's wrong. Answer please." He sounded frustrated.

"Yes." I replied embarrassed.

"Do you think you feel emotions and have thoughts the same way that living people do."

"Yes." I answer back immediately. That was one thing I was completely sure of.

"Are you sexually active?"

I felt the blush heat up in my face again.

"I've been living in a z-zombie lair for three y-years... so, no."  I said rather defensively.

He raised an eyebrow and checked a mark on his paper.

"Has your condition remained consistent since the start of the apocalypse?" He asked.

I thought back to my first year as a zombie. The drowsy muddled thoughts. How slow I was. The drastic realization of what I'd become. I was so much... slower then. Everything was blurrier. But as time went on, I got better. I got more alive. Even just this morning, my limp had started to heal.

I told Yurio this. He frowned.

"You described it as both 'slow' and 'muddled' at the start of the apocalypse. Were you physically worse, mentally worse, or both?"

"Both." I answered.

He frowned again, the gesture scrunching his face. He scanned his clipboard once more, eyes roaming the paper hungrily. He sighed, his shoulders heaving up and down with the motion. Then he looked Viktor in the eyes

"Well. I think I know what's wrong."