[Just Before Noon]
The city was breaking. Everywhere your eyes moved, destruction was all that could be seen. Buildings once towering now crumbled, flames dancing atop shattered roofs, the air thick with smoke and the stench of decay. The apocalypse had come, and Tokonosu City had fallen into chaos.
CRASH!
The gates of Fujimi Academy burst open with a deafening bang, a mini-bus barreling down the road like a wrecking ball. Its driver, a middle-aged man, looked haggard—his face streaked with tears and snot, eyes bulging wide with terror. He stomped on the gas, not daring to slow, plowing through the mindless undead that clawed at the bus, bones snapping beneath the tires.
The VROOM of the engine echoed, pulling a horde of zombies toward its deafening sound as the bus vanished around a corner. Left behind in the aftermath were the shambling figures of the undead, their hungry groans filling the air as they limped toward where the noise had gone, leaving behind the few remaining survivors at the academy.
Among the thick, overgrown bushes near the entrance, a handful of students who had missed the chance to board the bus huddled, holding their breaths, praying not to be noticed. Their hearts thundered in their chests, the relief palpable when the zombies shambled away.
Slowly, one by one, they stood up, eyes scanning the area. The first to rise was Saeko Busujima, her long, glossy purple hair catching the fleeting rays of sunlight. Her eyes, a cold, calculating blue, were framed by the delicate triangle of her bangs that nearly touched the bridge of her nose. The bokken she gripped glinted in the light, her slender yet powerful form ready to move, her pink lips shining as she breathed in the tense air.
Rei Miyamoto followed, her waist-length orange-brown hair swaying in the wind, tied in a loose ponytail. Her figure was the kind that would draw attention even in chaos—slender, with ample curves that defied the moment of terror. She gripped her makeshift spear, the muscles in her legs tightening as she readied herself.
Saya Takagi rose next, her twin ponytails of pink hair bouncing slightly as she moved, her fierce orange eyes scanning the area through her glasses. Her slender frame seemed at odds with the massive chest that pushed against her shirt, but she had little time to worry about that now. She adjusted her glasses, her sharp intellect racing through escape plans.
Behind them, Kouta Hirano, the short, overweight boy, hefted his nail gun, his sweat-slicked hair hanging awkwardly in his face. His eyes were wide with fear, but there was a gleam of determination in his gaze.
Finally, Takashi Komura, their unofficial leader, gripped his baseball bat tightly. His spiky black hair and school uniform were drenched in sweat, but he maintained a strong posture. His heart hammered in his chest, the weight of his responsibility pressing down on him as he glanced over at the others.
"Let's move," Takashi muttered, eyes scanning the street for any more signs of danger. They broke into a sprint, leaving the bushes behind, racing towards what they hoped was safety.
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[Near Sunset]
The sun dipped low in the sky, casting a blood-red hue over the city. The survivors found themselves trapped on a narrow bridge, surrounded by zombies closing in from both sides. The groans of the undead grew louder, the shuffling feet of the horde sending chills down their spines.
"Dammit, we're trapped!" Rei's voice trembled as she gripped her spear, her eyes darting back and forth between the waves of zombies. Sweat glistened on her forehead, her ample chest heaving with each breath as fear gnawed at her.
Takashi stood at the front, his bat clenched in his hands. He could feel his pulse pounding in his ears. "We need a plan. Fast," he growled, trying to keep his voice steady, his mind racing to find a way out.
Saeko stepped forward, calm as ever, her sword dripping with fresh blood. Her breasts bounced lightly as she adjusted her stance, the hem of her skirt fluttering in the wind. "Keep calm," she said in a smooth, almost seductive tone, her blue eyes locked on the approaching horde. "We can't afford to lose our heads."
Saya stomped her foot in frustration, her chest jiggling violently as she adjusted her glasses with a huff. "This is all your fault! I told you this bridge was a bad idea!" she snapped, glaring at Takashi.
Rei shot back, her voice rising. "You expect us to just stand around and get eaten? I'd rather take my chances!"
The tension between them crackled like electricity, but Saeko cut through it with a cold command. "Enough. Focus. We're fighting our way out of this."
The moans of the zombies were closing in. The metallic creak of the bridge groaned under the weight of the approaching horde. The undead were relentless, their decayed hands reaching out, mouths open in hunger. Hirano, his nail gun shaking in his hands, muttered nervously, "Just like a game... just like a game... aim for the head..."
CLANG!
The sound of the first swing echoed as Takashi bashed a zombie's head in, splattering blood across the pavement. "Go! Now!" he shouted, adrenaline kicking in.
The group sprang into action. Saeko's bokken slashed through the air with precision, her movements fluid and deadly, her skirt whipping around her thighs. Each strike was accompanied by the whoosh of air and the satisfying thud of impact. Rei thrust her spear with wild desperation, her ponytail flicking with every motion, while Saya yelled instructions, her ample chest bouncing as she tried to maintain composure.
The horde surged, but the survivors fought back with every ounce of strength they had. The once-quiet evening was now filled with the grotesque symphony of the undead, the clang of weapons, and the heavy breaths of those still clinging to life.
As the zombies pressed in, it seemed their hope was slipping away. The undead numbers grew, and exhaustion was beginning to set in. Takashi's grip on his bat tightened, his knuckles white. Thud! Crack! Another head split open, but the horde kept coming.
"They just keep coming!" Rei shouted, her voice edged with panic.
"Don't stop swinging!" Saeko's calm voice was a sharp contrast to the chaos. Her every movement was deliberate, her body moving with grace and strength, her sword a blur.
In the distance, a faint hum began to rise, the distinct whoosh of explosions breaking the tension.
Takashi's heart raced. Could it be? Someone was coming.
And then, over the horizon, a figure appeared—clad in black, a predatory smile on his face as he stepped into the chaos.
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A/N : Guess who's coming?