In The Walking Dead as Itachi Uchiha ?! (TWD)

After we finished eating and talking, we all returned to our tents. While walking Amy back to the RV, I could feel Andrea's piercing gaze on my back, watchful, protective, making sure I didn't try anything I shouldn't. We said our goodbyes and tucked in for the night.

I slowly wake as the sun begins to rise. For a moment, I stay still in my sleeping bag, staring up at the ceiling of the tent, listening to the quiet. Then, finally, I sit up and decide to get moving.

There's a long day ahead of me.

I want to make use of the time. If I'm going to keep dealing with walkers, I'll need something that won't risk dulling my weapons. 

Simple wooden senbon. Something disposable should work for now.

Stepping out of my tent, I start looking around for what I need: solid branches, smooth enough to carve, strong enough to pierce the head.

Theoretically, it should work against walkers. Their heads are softer than a human's, rotted, softer. A well-placed shot should be enough to pierce the skull.

While I search the camp for suitable wood, my mind drifts to a different problem: guns.

I still need to get one. A simple handgun would do. It's not about relying on it, just having options. The piercing power alone makes it useful. Or when I need to take someone out from a distance… A place where I can't retrieve my shuriken or kunai. Or when using a kunai or shuriken isn't practical.

I could try asking Rick. For one, when he gets his bag back. But he probably won't hand one over, not when I don't even know how to use it properly.

I'd need to ask about learning first.

Hitting a target? That shouldn't be too hard for me. My aim's already inhuman.

But a gun isn't just about aim. I'd need to know how to take it apart, clean it, put it back together before he'd trust me enough to carry my own.

I could lie and say I've fired guns before, that I'm just unfamiliar with the maintenance.

But that's not the priority right now.

Before then, we shouldn't run into any other people, and if we do, I shouldn't have a problem handling them.

I finish gathering all the suitable sticks for senbon and make my way back near my tent.

I sit on a nearby log, setting the sticks beside me. 

I pull out the kunai from my holster.

I shave the bark down, smooth the edge, taper the point. One stick at a time.Simple work. Steady hands. No rush.

After 30 minutes of carving

I end up with ten senbon, only three of which are actually usable.

Well… better than nothing. I shouldn't have expected this to be that simple.

I open the zipper slowly, trying not to wake Lori or Carl before stepping out of the tent.

That's when I see him.

Itachi.

He's sitting on a log not far from the tents, a pile of thin branches at his side. He's carving quietly, focused, like he's done this a thousand times before. No wasted movements.

He said he was trained to kill. Started young. Some kind of "ninja" background, though the kid never threw the word around himself. Just said it straight. Calm. Casual. Like it was nothing new.

Honestly, I don't fully believe his story, but he gives no reason to doubt it either. The way he moves, the way he talks… he sounds like a war veteran. Not to mention those knife skills, they're from someone highly trained. I haven't seen anyone that good with a blade before.

But even then… I can't really consider him dangerous to us.

He saved our lives. If not for him, I might've never seen Lori and Carl again - and for that, I'm forever grateful.

And the way he stepped in to protect Carol yesterday...

And besides all that… he's still a kid in my eyes.

I shake my head, trying to push the thoughts away. Thinking in circles won't change anything.He's here. He saved us. That's what matters.

I decide to approach him.

" Morning " - I say casually as I walk up.

He doesn't flinch or look surprised. Just finishes checking one of the sharp, needle-like things he carved before glancing up at me with a small nod.

" Morning " - he replies, calm, steady.

I glance down beside him. Two thin, sharpened sticks sit neatly to the side. The rest—broken, splintered—lie scattered among wood shavings. He's holding the third one in his hand, turning it slightly between his fingers, maybe even judging the weight.

I nod toward the sharpened ones next to him.

" What are those? " - There's a trace of confusion in my voice. I've never seen anything like them.

" Senbon. Throwing needles " - he replies, voice sharp and to the point.

Throwing needles.

That's not something I expected to hear this morning, especially not ones made out of wood.

They're long, sure, but they look fragile.

Hard to believe anyone could throw one hard enough to pierce a walker's skull.

" They're weapons? " - I ask, voice light with surprise.

" Yeah " - he says simply, placing the needle beside the other two. " Not ideal. Just something I can afford to lose. "

I watch him for a second longer, then glance at the finished set.

" You really think those'll work? " I ask. Not in doubt, just the honest kind of curiosity that comes from seeing something unfamiliar.

He gives me a small nod.

" If thrown right " he says. " They're not strong, but with enough force, they'll go through the eye. Into the brain. That's all it takes "

He pauses.

" But I still need to test it. Haven't tried them on a walker yet "

He doesn't say it like he's nervous. Just a matter - of-fact. Like it's part of the process.

I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out.

What do you even say to that?

He looks younger than Glenn… but when he talks like that?

Haven't tried them on a walker yet.

Like it's nothing. Like he's talking about taking out the trash or tying his shoes.

Kid doesn't talk much—but everything he does says plenty.

Not even twenty-four hours have passed since we got back from Atlanta, and already he's set up a perimeter around his tent, helped Carol without hesitation… and now he's making weapons out of sticks.

None of it loud. None of it for show.

Just quiet action. Like he's always preparing for the worst.

Let out a slow breath, then say.

" I'm gonna grab a bite before the day really starts. You want me to gran you something? " 

He looks at me before responding 

" No, thank you. I'll eat later. " - He offers a kind smile.

I was momentarily stunned when he smiled like that - he almost seemed to turn into a different person, shifting from dark and mysterious to a kind, older brother vibe.

I should try introducing him to Carl. When we got back to our tent, he wouldn't stop asking questions about him. Well, I guess any kid would get excited when he hears that someone is practically a real-life ninja.

Remembering the conversation I had with Carl, I let out a light chuckle.

He looks at me, a bit confused by the laugh, but I don't comment on it.

" Well, good luck on your sinbon? " - I say, the last part trying to remember what they're called.

" Senbon " - He is smirking at me.

" Yea good luck on your senbon " - I respond by emphasizing the last part.

" But on a serious note, if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. I owe you at least that much. For helping me out " I say it in a firm voice so he understands I'm serious.

After he nods, I start walking toward the center of the camp, giving a slight wave of my hand back to him.

After Rick leaves, I clean up the area, clearing away the stripped bark and tucking the finished senbon into a small pouch. Then I head back into my tent to grab a pair of sweatpants - figured it's time to get some exercise in.

I step inside and slip off my jeans, pulling on the sweatpants instead straping back the kunai holder to my leg. The hoodie comes off next, leaving just a plain black compression shirt clinging to my frame.

Exiting my tent, I head off into the woods, far enough from camp not to be seen but close enough to come back quickly if something unexpected happens.

I start with stretches, my body moving on instinct.

Then the training begins.

Handstand pushups. Pull-ups on a sturdy branch. Squats, kicks, knee strikes. Every motion clean, every breath steady.

Each motion is precise to the millimeter.

By the time I stop, sweat clings to my skin and the morning light is creeping higher through the clouds.

An hour passed. Time to head back.

<3rd Person Pov>

The clouds hung low over the camp, casting everything in soft gray light. The usual morning bustle had picked up - the kind of slow rhythm that made the place feel almost normal, even if only for a moment.

Rick made his way across the clearing, passing people, greeting them as they were going about their routines. Near the RV, Carol stood over a worn wooden ironing board. In her hands was an old-fashioned flat iron - the kind you had to heat by fire. The metal still carried a faint warmth from earlier coals, and she moved it carefully across Rick's shirt with gentle strokes.

She looked up as he approached, and with a soft voice, she greeted Rick.

" Morning "

He returned the greeting with a small nod.

" Morning "

Carol set the iron aside gently, checking the fabric beneath her fingers.

" They're still a little damp. The sun'll have 'em dry in no time "

Rick blinked, surprised.

" You washed my clothes? "

" Well, best we could " she replied with a half-smile. " Scrubbing on a washboard ain't half as good as my old Maytag back home "

Rick responds

"That's very kind. Thank you."

She gave a small nod and went back to her task

Not far from them, Glenn stood near his car, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. His Dodge Challenger was surrounded now by a few others.

" Look at 'em. Vultures " - he muttered under his breath.

"Yeah, go on, strip it clean."

Dale walks past him carrying a fuel container.

" Generators need every drop of fuel they can get. Got no power without it. Sorry, Glenn. "

Glenn let out a sharp breath, continuing to watch as his new ride got stripped clean.

A little farther off, near the makeshift laundry line strung between two trees, Amy and Andrea carried wicker baskets filled with dirty clothes. Andrea led the way, while Amy lagged just a step behind, her eyes scanning the camp almost absently, finally speaking.

"Have you seen him anywhere?" she asked, trying to sound casual - but the way her voice tipped upward at the end gave her away.

Andrea didn't look back at first. Just smirked as she kept walking.

" You really got a thing for him, don't you? " - she said playfully, finally glancing over her shoulder, amusement clear in her tone.

Amy nearly tripped over a root.

" What?! No! " Her voice cracked slightly with the rush of denial.

Andrea stopped walking and raised an eyebrow.

Amy lowered her head a bit, gripping the basket tighter. Her voice softened, almost a whisper.

" Yes. No. I don't know... I just want to get to know him better. "

Andrea laughed at her sister's flustered state before suddenly stopping.

Her gaze shifted behind Amy, something catching her eye. Her expression changed from amused to interested, then to impressed.

She gave a low, playful whistle.

" Now you don't get to see that often. "

Amy turned quickly, following her sister's gaze.

Itachi stepped out of the woods, the branches parting slightly around him like he belonged to the forest. He was drenched in sweat, black compression shirt clinging to every cut and contour of muscle, chest rising with steady breath.

Even from across the camp, it was clear he had just finished an intense workout.

Amy stopped walking, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. She stared - practically drooling and completely unaware of how obvious it was.

Andrea turned back, biting back another laugh as she took in her sister's stunned expression.

" Easy there, Romeo. You're gonna catch flies. "

As I stepped out from the trees, I caught sight of the camp shifting into motion. Morning routines. Rick talking to Carol near a makeshift ironing board. Glenn grumbling while looking at his car while Morales and Jim are scraping it. 

Then I noticed Amy standing next to Andrea.

She expressed somewhere between surprise and… something else. It was subtle, but noticeable like she'd been caught staring and didn't know how to recover.

Andrea stood beside her, trying to suppress a grin.

That's when I noticed what they were holding.

Wicker laundry baskets. Full. Looked like they were heading towards the lake.

I started walking towards them.

Andrea raised a brow. Amy quickly looked away, fumbling slightly with her grip on the basket.

" You're going to wash the clothes? " I asked, keeping my tone neutral.

Amy nodded. " Yeah. Down by the lake. "

" Mind if I join you? I've got a few things that need to be washed as well. " - I asked politely.

" Sure, we don't mind " she responded quickly, voice a little too high.

She cleared her throat, trying to compose herself.

Andrea just watched, finally deciding to speak up as well.

" In the camp, women handle the washing, cooking, and cleaning " - She said with some bitterness in her voice

" You can just bring your clothes to us, and we'll take care of them. "

Amy immediately shot her a glare - The kind that could kill.

I don't know if it's actually cute or scary that she's reacting to it that strongly.Maybe both?

And for some reason… it stirred something in me. Not just amusement. Not just surprise.There was something warm about the way she stood up, not for me exactly, but because of me.

It was not something I was used to... but I didn't mind it.

Andrea raised her hands slightly, shrugging with a half-smile.

" But hey, you can help if you want. No one's gonna blame you for pitching in. Just don't let Miranda see you, or you'll be joining us every time. "

I wasn't planning on helping. I just wanted to wash my clothes on a washboard with some soap…

I wanted to correct her…

But with Amy looking up at me with those puppy eyes, saying no suddenly felt a lot harder than it should.

I nodded once.

Well… guess I'm helping.

Andrea's smile stretched wider, smug now.

" Great! Grab your stuff and meet us by the lake, " she said like she'd just won a game I didn't know we were playing.

She turned and started walking away without waiting for a reply.

Amy nodded, smiling softly.

" See you there " - she said, before following Andrea

Whit a little bounce in her step she clearly didn't realize she had.

Then the realization hit me.

She tricked me.

She used Amy against me, didn't she…

After changing out of my training clothes, I gather what needs washing, my spare clothes, what I slept in, even my Anbu gear.

By the time I get there, Andrea and Amy have already reached the shallows. The baskets sit nearby, sleeves rolled up as they sit on plastic stools just above the waterline, hands deep in soapy water washing the clothes.

I tried to make my footsteps louder as I approached, not wanting to overhear anything I shouldn't.

Walking loudly… that's harder than I expected. 

This body moves in silence without thinking. Trying to undo that - to make noise on purpose - it's like telling myself to forget how to breathe.

Andrea glanced over her shoulder, smirking

" You made it. I was starting to think you'd bailed. "

Amy looked up from her scrubbing, a few strands of hair stuck to her cheek, and giving me a bright smile.

" We saved you a spot " 

she said playfully, nudging a small stool beside her 

" We just got started. "

I gave a small nod and set my bundle of clothes down beside the others.

I rolled up my sleeves and sat down on the empty stool near Amy.

She paused mid-scrub, her fingers lingering on the fabric before glancing over at me.

" Mind if I ask you something? "

I gave her a calm nod. " Sure. "

She hesitated for a beat, then spoke again.

" What did you mean when you said you were trained? Like… some kind of military school or something? "

Andrea shifted slightly on her stool, pretending not to be interested - but the way she leaned in just a bit said otherwise.

I shook my head.

" Not exactly. It was more like… family training. "

Andrea raised an eyebrow.

" Family? "

I nod to her.

" Yes. In our family, it was mandatory to begin teaching children from a young age. Mostly in traditional Japanese weapons and martial arts. "

Amy blinked, confused.

" Wait… I mean, I read somewhere that Japanese people value their traditions, but I didn't think it was that serious. "

Andrea gave a slow nod, clearly surprised too.

I clarified.

" It wasn't a national thing. Just our family. We come from a lineage that traces back to a ninja clan… if you could call it that. The training's been passed down for hundreds of years. "

Amy perked up, eyes lighting up.

" Wait… so you're a real-life ninja? "

I let out a low chuckle.

" Yes. "

Andrea blinked and turned to her sister, half-flabbergasted.

" Amy, you can't be serious. That's the only thing you heard? "

But Amy didn't even hear her. The questions came fast.

" Is that why you always wear black? "

"Have you ever done that thing where you catch flies with chopsticks? Is that actually possible? "

" Wait-please tell me broom combat was a real thing. "

I answered simply, chuckling at some of her more ridiculous questions.

Andrea tried to cut in once or twice, slipping in a question of her own, but Amy cut her off each time with another of her own.

That back-and-forth carried on until every last shirt, sock, and scrap of fabric was rinsed and wrung out.

Once everything was clean, we gathered up the baskets and started heading back toward camp.

Amy walked beside me, still riding the energy of our conversation, her steps light and close. Andrea trailed just behind, quieter now, though I caught her shaking her head once - probably at her sister, or maybe at me.

Arriving back at camp, we split up.

Amy and Andrea headed towards the lines to hang the laundry, still talking quietly between themselves. I turned towards my tent, already shifting my focus.

If the pattern holds, a walker herd will arrive tomorrow. I'll need to keep a close eye on both Amy and Jim.

I was halfway to my tent when I heard it - Sophia and Carl screaming.

I changed direction immediately, feet moving before my thoughts could catch up.

I'd gotten so absorbed in the conversation with Amy… I actually forgot about the walker that was supposed to appear today.

As I moved through the trees, weaving between the trunks, I caught glimpses through the gaps. The kids were safe, already hugging Lori and Carol.

And the walker… it was hunched over a deer. Just like in the original story.

I slowed my pace, approaching carefully as the others began to surround it—Rick, Shane, Glenn, and a few others. Weapons raised. Voices tight.

I said nothing, just moved in quietly behind the rest of them.

I heard Andrea and Amy rushing over here as well, eyes wide with alarm.

Amy's pace faltered as she caught sight of the scene—figures closing in on the walker, blood smeared in the grass.

I could warn her. Tell her not to look.

Spare her from the sight.

But I didn't.

She needs to see this.

No one survives by looking away. Not in this world.

It might seem cruel - maybe it is - that I want her to get used to things like this. But there's no place anymore for innocent people.

You either change… or you die.

When I turned my attention back to the group, my expression flattened into pure disbelief.

What the hell are they doing?

They were swarming the walker, yes - but not killing it. Just beating it. Swinging tools, sticks, whatever they had… hitting everywhere except the head.

Like they were jumping some thug in a back-alley brawl. Like that would do anything.

Did this happen in the show? I couldn't remember. Maybe I blocked it out of secondhand embarrassment.

Because right now, it was just... sad.

Then Dale stepped forward, face set, hands white-knuckled around the old fire axe.

He swung.

The blade met the neck with a wet crunch, severing the head clean from the shoulders. It hit the dirt with a thud… and kept moving.

The jaws snapped. The eyes rolled. The damn thing was still alive.

They'd cut it clean—but not where it mattered.

I stared in disbelief.

They weren't aiming for the head. Not one of them.

 It was like they were avoiding the one place that mattered.

" It's the first one we've had up here " - Dale muttered, still catching his breath.

" They never come this far up the mountain. "

Jim spoke from behind him, voice low.

" Well, they're running out of food in the city, that's what. "

I stepped closer, my voice just above a whisper.

" They don't move alone. "

Heads turned. A few faces stiffened, eyes snapping toward me.

I kept my gaze on the twitching walker's head, its jaw still working uselessly against the dirt.

" There are only two possibilities, " I said calmly.

" Either there are more nearby and this one wandered off— "

People exchanged nervous glances. I could feel the air shift. A quiet tension creeping in.

I was about to finish when someone else did it for me.

" —Or this is just the first one. And more are on the way. "

Daryl stepped out of the treeline, crossbow slung over his shoulder, his expression a mix of irritation and grim certainty. The way he said it… it wasn't theory. It was instinct.

Dale looked to me, his expression tight.

" You think there are more coming this way? "

I met his gaze, my voice steady.

" I'm not certain… but it's better to prepare for the worst. "

Before anyone could respond, the severed walker head twisted suddenly—its dead eyes rolling, jaws snapping wildly at the air.

Amy flinched.

" Oh god. "

She looked like she was about to throw up - her face had gone pale, and her hands were trembling slightly.

But to my surprise… she didn't walk away.

Instead, she just turned her head, averting her gaze from the snapping walker head, breathing slowly like she was trying to hold it together.

Andrea leaned in, gently putting a hand on her shoulder, whispering something to calm her down.

It wasn't much.

But it mattered.

She didn't run.

Daryl stepped forward, clearly disgusted.

" Come on, people. What the hell? "

He didn't hesitate. Raised his crossbow and fired. The bolt buried itself through the walker's skull with a crunch.

" It's gotta be the brain. Don't y'all know nothin'? "

Daryl's eyes locked on the deer carcass, and his face twisted with frustration.

" I've been tracking this damn deer for miles " - he muttered, stepping closer.

" Gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison. "

He crouched beside it, examining the torn flank where the walker had fed.

" What do you think? "- he asked, glancing toward the group.

" Think we can cut around this chewed-up part right here? "

There was a short silence. Shane shook his head.

" I wouldn't risk that. "

Daryl exhaled sharply through his nose and stood up again, clearly pissed.

" That's a damn shame " - he grumbled.

" Got some squirrel… about a dozen or so. That'll have to do " - he muttered, giving the deer one last glare before turning.

Without another word, Daryl started walking back toward camp, crossbow on his back and the squirrels swinging lightly in one hand.

I followed behind everyone, noticing how Rick and Shane exchanged a look - brief, but loaded.

They had another problem now. 

Breaking the news about Merle Dixon.

Daryl was already raising his voice.

" Merle! Merle! Get your ugly ass out here! I got us some squirrel! Let's stew 'em up! "

People nearby flinched at the sudden shouting. Carol instinctively pulled Sophia closer. I could feel the tension ripple outward.

Shane started walking closer to Daryl.

" Daryl, just slow up a bit. I need to talk to you. "

" About what? " - Daryl snapped.

" About Merle. There was a… there was a problem in Atlanta. "

Daryl stiffened.

" He dead? "

" We're not sure " - Shane answered carefully.

" He either is or he ain't! "

That was when Rick stepped in. Calm. Firm. Steady.

" No easy way to say this, so I'll just say it. "

Daryl turned, narrowing his eyes.

" Who are you? "

" Rick Grimes. "

" Rick Grimes, you got something you want to tell me?! " - he said, his voice sharp with aggression.

" Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof. Hooked him to a piece of metal. He's still there. "

Daryl froze.

" Hold on. Let me process this. You're saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof and you left him there?! "

Rick repeated calmly.

" Yeah. "

Daryl didn't hesitate. He lunged straight at Rick, rage overtaking reason.

But before he could reach him, Shane stepped in fast, tackling him mid-charge and slamming him down into the dirt with a hard push.

Daryl snarled, furious.

Then his hand darted down. taking out his knife from the belt.

" Hey! Watch the knife! " T-Dog shouted.

<3rd Person Pov>

 Daryl surged to his feet, eyes flashing with anger.. In one swift motion, he swings a knife toward Rick's side, aiming to catch him off guard.

But before the blade can reach its mark, a shadow moves behind Rick.

Itachi steps out with lethal grace, closing the distance in a heartbeat.

Itachi's hand snapped up, catching Daryl's wrist mid-swing before twisting sharply. The knife slipping out from Daryl's hand.

Without missing a beat, Itachi trips Daryl forward, sending him sprawling onto his stomach.

In one fluid movement, Itachi pins Daryl down, twisting his arm behind his back.

He sits fully on Daryl's back, one leg stretched out on the ground for balance, while the other leg is pressed firmly on the back of Daryl's head, holding him securely in place.

Daryl grits his teeth, struggling beneath the hold, but Itachi's grip is unbreakable.

For a moment, the camp falls silent, the tension palpable.

Itachi's calm gaze meets Daryl's defiant one, a silent warning clear in his eyes.

Rick blinked out of his surprise, then slowly stepped forward.

He crouched in front of Daryl, voice steady.

" I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that? "

He let the question hang for a moment, then repeated it more firmly.

" Do you think we can manage that? "

Itachi's gaze stayed on Daryl a moment longer before Rick gave him a small nod. Itachi returned it silently, then released Daryl's arm and stepped away without a word.

Daryl didn't calm down, not really - just burned quieter. Rick kept his tone steady, explaining what happened to Merle. T-Dog stepped in, tried to take some blame. Said he lost the key. Explained that he locked the rooftop door.

None of it mattered. Not to Daryl.

He just wanted to know where his brother was. So he could go get him.

Rick didn't flinch. Said he was going back. Glenn and T-dog joind in as well

That was all Daryl needed to hear.

I stepped away quietly, letting Rick and the others handle the rest. The tension still clung to the air, heavy like smoke. I didn't feel like standing around.

My eyes scanned the camp. People were shaken—murmuring, glancing at Daryl like he was a lit fuse.

I found an empty chair nearby and sat down. 

I heard soft footsteps approach. Then a pause.

" Hey... " - Amy's voice was softer than usual, hesitant, almost uncertain.

" Are you okay? "

There was a flicker of worry in her tone.

I looked at her. Her brows were slightly drawn, lips pressed together—not playful this time. Just concerned.

I nodded slightly, keeping my voice calm.

" I'm fine. "

Then, after a moment, I let my tone soften.

" And how about you… are you okay now? "

Amy hesitated. Her arms crossed lightly over her chest, fingers curling against her sleeves.

" I don't know " - she admitted.

" I was already struggling when I saw it eating the deer… but when the head started moving "

She paused, swallowing hard.

" That's when it got worse. I just froze. My whole body felt like it wasn't mine anymore. Like I couldn't even think straight. " - She said before continuing.

" I know I'm not strong. Not like the others. "

She then lets her hands fall.

" I hate that I panic like that… but I can't help it. "

I watched her carefully for a moment, then spoke - soft, but steady.

" You're stronger than you think. "

She looked up, a flicker of surprise in her eyes.

" You stayed. Even when it scared you. Even when you wanted to walk away. "

I paused, letting the words settle.

" That matters. Trying matters. "

My voice lowered slightly, steady and calm.

" Fear doesn't make you weak, Amy. Running from it does. "

" You stayed. Even when it scared you, when you wanted to walk away. "

Amy looked down, her fingers twisting at the hem of her shirt. The firelight flickered in her eyes, making them look softer. More unsure.

" I wanted to run " - she admitted quietly.

" When its head moved… I thought I was gonna lose it. I've never seen something like that before. Not that close. Not when it's still... alive. "

Her voice cracked just slightly on the last word, and she cleared her throat quickly.

" But you didn't run "- I said again, gently.

" That's the part that matters. "

Amy gave a weak laugh.

" You make it sound like I was brave or something. "

" No, " I replied.

" You were scared. But you didn't let that stop you. That's stronger than you think. "

There was a beat of silence.

Then she looked at me and smiled - soft and honest, just as a new voice cut in, uncertain and a little high-pitched.

" Uh… am I interrupting something? "

Glenn stood there awkwardly.

His eyes darted from me to Amy and then back again, clearly wondering if he'd just stepped into something he shouldn't have.

Amy turned and let out a small laugh.

" No, no. We were just finishing up. "

She gave me a warm smile, then added over her shoulder to Glenn,

" Your turn. "

Glenn blinked.

" Oh, cool. I mean—not like that, I just meant… you know what I meant. "

I gave Glenn a small nod, letting his flustered words hang in the air without judgment. He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes darting toward the treeline like he wished he could vanish into it.

" Uh… Rick sent me here as he's kinda… busy right now. With Lori and Shane. "

" They're having this huge argument. Like, full-volume, everybody-can-hear-it kind of thing. About the run. About Merle. About... everything. "

He waved vaguely at the air.

" And, y'know, the maybe-walker-horde thing you and Daryl mentioned? That didn't exactly calm anybody down. "

" So yeah. It's kinda a mess over there. And Rick thought it'd be better if i came and asked you... while he, uh… de-escalates. "

He gave a weak shrug and a sheepish smile.

" Anyway, uh… yeah. Just, y'know, keep an eye on things. Rick said he trusts you. "

I stayed quiet, letting him finish.

He shifted again, shrugging tighter.

" No pressure or anything. Just... y'know. Pressure. "

" Sorry for throwing it on you like this. "

I shook my head slightly, my voice calm.

" Don't worry. I'll keep them safe. "

Glenn let out a breath, some tension easing from his shoulders.

" Thanks, man. Really. "

With that, he turned and walked off towards the RV.

--------------------------------------

Author's Note:

Hope you all enjoyed the chapter!

And a big thank you for 200 power stones!!Honestly, I didn't expect to even reach 20, so this was a major surprise.Huge thanks to everyone supporting this fanfic — I really appreciate it.

Let me know if the characters feel real to you!It helps a lot to have an outside perspective.

Now, about this chapter — it's a big one, over 5,000 words — the longest so far by a long shot.

I tried to accomplish a lot in this one:

First, I wanted to show Rick's thoughts about the MC, and why he might be inclined to trust him. I hope I made it feel realistic and in line with Rick's character.

Second, I wanted to expand Amy's character a bit. I didn't want her to just be the group's "positivity charm." I wanted to show that she recognizes her own mental weakness and how much she relies on Andrea — and hint at her slowly starting to grow. And of course, to deepen her bond with the MC.

Third, I wanted to show that the MC isn't perfect. He's still human, and can be tricked (like Andrea roping him into helping with laundry 😅). I also added some light foreshadowing about his past — why he didn't seem too shocked by reincarnation, and the kind of life he might of had before."It was not something I was used to... but I didn't mind it."

And a few other things too — like the MC stepping in to protect Rick (even when he knew Rick could handle it), and how he's slowly trying to establish himself as Rick's right-hand man.

If you have any questions about future plans or anything else, feel free to ask!

Thanks again for reading!! 🙏