"What the hell is going on? If there's a lockdown, they should at least tell us why," Isamu scoffed scratching the back of his neck.
Denji chuckled at his reaction. "Chill out, Isamu. It's our last year, let's just bear it for now. Hey, you figured out where you're going for college yet?"
Isamu sighed, leaning back on his chair with a tired expression. It was a question he'd heard too many times, and he responded right away as if he was expecting the question. "Not yet. Still, uh, exploring my options."
'Why does everyone keep bugging me about college? Like it's somehow going to change our lives or something. It's just four more years of the same grind, the same bullsh*t. Whatever. Maybe if I pretend to sleep, I won't have to hear about it again today'. He let his eyes shut, hoping to drift off.
Earlier that day...
The same small dog was barking incessantly outside that same house. As an elderly lady in a thick, pink jacket passed by, she glanced at the dog, now whimpering.
BANG, BANG. Something heavy hit the door from inside the house.
The woman peered curiously toward the door, pushing down a sudden wave of unease as the wind caught her hat and blew it off.
"Hey, Taka? You home? That dog's been going on since yesterday! Come on, let him in—he's disturbing the whole neighborhood." She stepped closer, the dogs whimpering getting louder.
With a sudden crash, the door burst open, and a gaunt, pale, wide-eyed man hurled himself at her, knocking her down and sinking his teeth into her neck. Her scream echoed into the street.
...
Isamu and Denji ambled through the bustling hallway at school, weaving around students heading in the opposite direction toward the principal's office.
"Why aren't they letting anyone leave the school? Feels serious—like a terrorist attack or something," Denji muttered, bumping into students without much concern.
Isamu shook his head, glancing at the students rushing past. "I don't buy it. If it was a terror threat, we'd be hearing sirens, or something. But they took our phones, so who knows?"
They eventually reached the club room where the volleyball team was gathering. The space was cramped, with rows of lockers and a few worn wooden benches. Isamu sat down with a tired sigh, while Denji grabbed his shoes.
"So, what's your theory on all this lockdown thing?" Denji asked, smirking as he took off his jacket.
Isamu considered it for a moment, then shrugged. "Maybe it's a disease."
"A disease?" echoed Takumi Yamada, who was lacing up his sneakers. With his piercing blue eyes and slightly wavy silver hair, Takumi was the must-have "popular guy" around school. He was also the team's tallest player coming in at 186 cm and their ace receiver. He was just taller than Denji and Isamu.
"Yeah, like COVID or something. Could be they're keeping us here to stop it from spreading, like a quarantine or something. I mean, what else would explain it?"
Takumi's nose wrinkled. "If it's anything like COVID, that sucks big time, those days were boring as f**k. The last thing we need is another lockdown." He grabbed his water bottle and headed toward the door.
Practice went on like any other day. They fell into a familiar rhythm—Takumi with his smooth receives, Isamu setting up precise passes, and Denji executing powerful spikes. The trio worked seamlessly together, the kind of chemistry that had made them a force at the prefectural tournaments the past two years.
But their focus was lost when a loud bang echoed from the gym doors behind them.
They all froze, glancing toward the doors. The ball dropped and bounced, forgotten, as the banging continued, louder and more aggressive.
"What the hell's that noise?" one of the players muttered, looking uneasy.
Just then, the door flew open. A man barged through, bloody and disheveled, his shirt torn and face pale, smeared with dirt and blood. His gaze was unfocused, and a low, soft growl escaped his throat.
Denji took a step forward, looking genuinely concerned. "Hey, are you okay sir? Were you in an accident?"
The man didn't respond; he just staggered further into the gym ignoring them, his hands reaching out clumsily. Takumi, irritated by the man's silence, tossed the volleyball into the air and spiked it toward him.
The ball struck the man's head and bounced off harmlessly. The man turned his face towards them, attention snapped to the ball, and he suddenly lunged at it, crawling along the floor in a frenzy.
"What is this guy's problem?" one of the players asked nervously.
The man whipped his head up, his eyes locking onto the player who spoke. In a flash, he jumped, tackling the player to the ground and sinking his teeth into his shoulder. The player's scream filled the gym, and panic erupted. Everyone took a step back scared.
"What the hell, man? Get off him!" Another player kicked the man away, but the man lunged again, this time taking down his attacker with terrifying speed. Then, more erratic figures like the man rushed through the doors, their faces equally contorted with madness, growling as they moved.
"Run!" Denji shouted, sprinting for the other door in the opposite direction.
He didn't have to say it twice. Isamu, Takumi, and the others scrambled after him, barging out into the campus as screams and confusion spread around them.
They rushed towards the club room not far from the gymnasium. As they bolted up the stairs, Isamu's heart hammered in his chest. They pushed into the club room, slamming the door and locking it, panting in the darkened room.
Denji put his hands on his head, his eyes wide with disbelief. "What the hell was that?!"
"Those people... something's wrong with them!" Isamu muttered between breaths.
"No shit Sherlock," muttered the short player that followed behind them.
Moving quickly, Isamu shut the blinds and gestured to the others. "Help me push this locker against the door. We can't let those people in here."
They strained, muscles nervously shaking as they pushed the locker into place, barricading the door.
...
Isamu peeked through the blinds and caught sight of a player they had left in the gym. His hand was bloodied, his face pale and weird, and he was staggering in the same, deranged way as the others that came into the gymnasium.
"It's contagious," he whispered, dread settling in the pit of his stomach.