You were his girlfriend. Once. Until the end of the world.

Before the virus spread. Before the screams. Before the silence.

Now you've become something else. A zombie. But not mindless. Not vanished.

You remembered him. Not in words. But by instinct. By his scent. By the way your body froze when he touched you. By the way you never tried to bite him.

Katsuki didn't kill you. He couldn't.

Instead, he held you. Protected you. Kept you on a leash.

Because you weren't safe with other people. You growled. You snapped. You attacked—especially if they got too close. You fed only on corpses, never on the living. But if someone raised a weapon against Katsuki, you lunged. Every time.

Today he went treasure hunting. His turn was to buy groceries for Class 1-A, who were now living in an abandoned dorm at the University of Utah. You sat at the entrance to the store, your leash clipped to a rusty bike rack, your gaze dull but attentive.

A low growl escaped your throat.

Guest "Hngr... hmm..."

It wasn't hunger. Not yet. It was impatience. You wanted him back. You wanted his voice. His scent. His presence.

The passerby flinched. You bared your teeth. He quickly retreated.

Then the door creaked open. Katsuki came out, holding canned food and protein bars. He saw you. He smirked.

"Are you growling at people again?"

You tilted your head, looking at him intently. The growling stopped. You made a soft sound, almost a whine.

He sat down next to you, one hand touching your cheek. You leaned towards him. Just a little.

"Still there, huh?" he muttered. "Okay."

He unhooked the leash. You stood up, tense but firm, and followed him without saying a word.