Chapter 23

Saeko sat seiza, the traditional kneeling position, on the center of the kendo mat. The smooth wooden floor radiated a cool warmth beneath her knees. Her shinai, the bamboo sword used in kendo, lay horizontally in front of her, its simple elegance a stark contrast to the turmoil within.

She closed her eyes, seeking solace in the familiar ritual of meditation. Yet, the familiar breaths and mantra failed to quiet the storm brewing inside. The past few months replayed like a cruel movie reel, each frame etched with heartache.

The one who filled the void in her lonely life, who shared stolen moments of laughter and the moments of sadness. But fate, it seemed, had a cruel sense of humor. She knew that the man he loved was a playboy, his affections settling upon her best friend.

Saeko knew this day would come. She knew that Will is a scumbag but he knew how to love and cherish them. Her heart, once guarded by cynicism, had opened a crack, allowing hope to bloom. But like a wilted flower choked by frost, it had withered under the harsh reality.

"I don't deserve love," she whispered, the words a bitter truth long buried deep within. Each time she relished another's pain, the guilt gnawed at her, amplifying the cold, emotionless mask she wore. It was a defense mechanism, a shield against further vulnerability.

But a part of her longed to shed the mask, to feel the warmth of genuine connection. Yet, the fear of rejection, of the crushing confirmation that she was truly unlovable, held her captive.

A single tear escaped, rolling down her cheek and landing with a soft plop on the smooth wood. In the silence of the dojo, the sound echoed, a stark reminder of her solitude.

Saeko gripped the tsuba, the guard of her shinai, seeking solace in its familiar solidity. The wood felt cool against her palm, a grounding force.

Taking a deep breath, she started her kendo practice. As she moved through the kata, the disciplined flow of strikes and stances offered a temporary escape. 

With each strike, she channeled her pain, her frustration, her longing, into the controlled power of the sword.

The dojo became her sanctuary, the rhythmic swish of the shinai her voice, expressing emotions she could not yet articulate. 

In the sweat and strain, she found a semblance of peace, a flicker of something akin to hope. Perhaps, like the phoenix rising from the ashes, she, too, could one day shed the mask and step into the light, ready to embrace love, even if it meant risking the possibility of pain.

The final strike echoed in the dojo, leaving the air thick with the scent of wood and sweat. Saeko, chest heaving, lowered her shinai, a bittersweet taste in her mouth. 

Deep down, the truth resonated like a low drumbeat - she craved more than the fleeting solace of kendo. She yearned for his warmth, the quiet intimacy of sharing mornings, the comfort of knowing he was hers. The regret, a constant gnawing ache, whispered of what could have been.

He had accepted her, she knew. He'd looked into her eyes, seen the darkness she held within, and whispered, "I would accept it all." But his actions spoke a different language, placing her firmly in the friend zone, a confidante but not a lover.

A shrill ring from her phone shattered the melancholic silence. As she reached for it, a terrifying sound assaulted her ears - a guttural, rabid banging emanating from the dojo entrance. 

Before she could react, the door swung open with a sickening crash, revealing a figure unlike anything she'd ever seen.

Gone was the semblance of humanity, replaced by vacant eyes and a face contorted in a grotesque parody of a scream. In a split second, the figure lunged, claws outstretched, a horrifying image ripped straight from her worst nightmares.

Instinct took over. Years of kendo training flowed through her veins as she raised her shinai, meeting the charge head-on. The impact resonated through her bones, but the creature remained standing, its head tilting at an unnatural angle. 

Blood, a sickly green tinged with black, poured from the gaping wound where her strike connected.

Saeko's eyes widened in horror. This wasn't a human, it was something else entirely. Kendo, effective against humans, was useless against this new threat. The world tilted on its axis as the realization dawned - the apocalypse had arrived, and she was unprepared.

The monster screeched, a sound that sent shivers down her spine, and lunged again. Saeko knew at that moment that her fight had just begun, a fight not just for survival, but for everything she held dear, even the love she could not have. Kendo might not be enough, but she was Saeko, the kendo master, and she would not go down without a fight.

Saeko spun, her kendo training kicking in with practiced efficiency. The shinai met the creature's outstretched claw, the impact sending a jolt through her arm but barely fazing the undead monstrosity.

A thrill, sharp and primal, coursed through her. It wasn't the thrill of victory, not quite, but the familiar tang of power, of control.

With a savage glint in her eyes, she struck again and again, each blow fueled not by fear, but by a dark satisfaction. 

As the creature crumpled to the ground, its blood staining the pristine kendo mat, Saeko felt a macabre euphoria erupt within her.

Glancing down at her phone, she saw the message flashing on the screen: "Rabid humans biting people, don't approach kill on sight." A cold smile spread across her face, replacing the lingering sadness. This wasn't a joke. This was her world now, a twisted playground where her monstrous tendencies could finally be unleashed.

Saeko didn't waste time grieving the past. She grabbed her phone, the message acting as a twisted confirmation of her desires. With the grace of a predator, she slipped out of the dojo, her shinai held high. 

Outside, the world was in chaos, the once familiar halls swarmed with the shambling forms of the undead.

Saeko charged into the fray, a twisted warrior in her element. Every swing of her shinai was precise, deadly, and punctuated by a chilling laugh. 

Each fallen victim fueled the darkness within her, a perverse satisfaction replacing the longing that had haunted her.

The apocalypse, for Saeko, wasn't a nightmare, but a twisted awakening. In this world of the damned, she was finally free. The once hidden monster had risen, and a sadistic smile painted in blood was her only solace.

The chaos outside the dojo was a symphony of screams and moans, punctuated by the sickening thud of flesh meeting bone. Saeko stood at the threshold, a chilling calm settling over her. 

The carnage, the panic etched on the faces of fleeing students - it was all strangely familiar. It mirrored the day Will had seen the darkness within her, the day he'd looked beyond the mask and accepted her, monster and all.

A grim smile played on her lips. Back then, the darkness had been a secret shame, a part of her she kept hidden. 

Now, under the blue sky, it was a twisted badge of honor, a weapon she wielded with chilling efficiency.

She swung her shinai, killing the lumbering figure with a single, precise strike. The metallic tang of blood filled the air, a perversely sweet perfume. 

As she moved through the carnage, she couldn't help but be reminded of the controlled violence of kendo practice. But here, the stakes were life and death, and the thrill that coursed through her was raw, primal.

Rounding a corner, she came face-to-face with a scene straight out of a nightmare. A horde of the undead clawed at the shattered glass doors of the nurses' office, desperate figures trapped within shrieking for help.

—-------------------------------------------------

The sterile white of the nurse's office was stained crimson. Moaning figures lay sprawled on the beds, some seemingly peaceful, others stirring with an unnatural hunger. In the corner, one student, his face pale and lifeless, suddenly rose, a guttural growl escaping his throat.

His friend, eyes widening in horror, stumbled back. "O-Okada..." he stammered, a name soon swallowed by a desperate cry.

The undead student lunged, pinning his friend to the ground. A frantic struggle ensued, a dance of desperation and terror. The living student, eyes welling with tears, fumbled for anything to defend himself. His hand found a metal pole, a glint of cold steel in the flickering fluorescent lights.

With a choked sob, he plunged the pole into the chest of his reanimated friend. The zombie let out a final, gurgling moan before collapsing, lifeless once more. The student stood there, drenched in his friend's blood, shaking uncontrollably.

"Crap… crap…" he choked out, the apology a hollow echo in the silent room.

Shizuka-sensei, oblivious to the scene unfolding behind her, hummed to herself as she flipped through a crumpled medical textbook. Her brow furrowed in concentration, her tongue poking out the corner of her mouth in deep thought.

"Hmm, this doesn't make any sense," she mumbled, tapping her finger against her cheek. "Bite marks, fever, erratic behavior… but no known virus matches these symptoms."

The horrifying image of his friend reanimated and the blood staining his hands flashed behind the student's eyes. His desperate cry, "Whatever shall I do?", was lost in the sterile silence of the office, unanswered by the oblivious teacher and unheard by the world outside that had seemingly descended into chaos.

In the nurse's office, two separate realities intertwined - oblivious innocence humming amongst the echoes of a nightmare, a stark portrait of the sudden, brutal awakening that had become their new normal.

The airwaves crackled with static as Shizuka-sensei pressed the phone closer to her ear. "I can't get a hold of the police or the fire department!" she exclaimed, a hint of panic lacing her usually bubbly voice.

Shizuka, oblivious to the carnage taking place behind her, slumped back in her chair. 

"I could treat people, but they're screwed once they get bitten, and they come back to life after they die," she mumbled, tapping her chin with a finger. "I feel like I'm in one of those movies that weirdos like." Her brow furrowed in concentration, then relaxed as a playful smile spread across her face. "Is it really that amazing?" she asked herself, tilting her head to the side and giggling softly.

Suddenly, a scream ripped through the room, shattering her whimsical reverie. The student, his face etched with terror, stood between her and the window, desperately fending off a horde of undead figures clawing at the broken glass.

"Hold on a sec!" Shizuka chirped, her voice devoid of urgency. She sauntered over to the medicine cabinet, humming a tune as she rummaged through the supplies. "I should take whatever I can carry."

The student grunted in exertion, shoving the zombies back as their moans and growls filled the small room. "Please hurry! Shizuka-sensei!" he yelled, his voice strained with exhaustion.

Shizuka finally emerged, a small bag slung nonchalantly over her shoulder. "Alright, alright, I'm coming!" she chirped, oblivious to the danger the student faced. "But I left my favorite stethoscope, so I guess I'll have to diagnose everyone the old-fashioned way!"

She skipped towards the doorway, her cheerfulness jarring against the grim reality of the scene. As she stepped past the student, he gave her a look of utter disbelief and horror. He knew, in that moment, that he was on his own.

Shizuka, completely unaware of the gravity of the situation, skipped out of the room, humming a tune and twirling her bag strap. The student, left to face the encroaching horde, let out a guttural yell, a mixture of frustration and fear, as he braced himself for the inevitable struggle.

Panic contorted the student's face as he shoved against the undead figures clawing at the broken window. "Shizuka-sensei! Run away! Quickly!" he screamed, his voice hoarse from exertion.

Shizuka, oblivious to the urgency, continued rummaging through the medicine cabinet, her chirpy demeanor in stark contrast to the unfolding chaos.

Suddenly, a sickening crunch echoed through the room. The student, overwhelmed by the horde, stumbled back, a guttural moan escaping his lips as a zombie sunk its teeth into his arm.

Blood welled up, staining his shirt crimson. He looked at Shizuka, his eyes wide with a mix of terror and betrayal, but all he managed was a choked gasp before collapsing onto the floor.

Shizuka finally emerged, a small bag slung over her shoulder. She paused, tilting her head in an airheaded manner. "Uhhhh... What'd you say your name was again?" she asked, her voice a cheerful lilt that sent shivers down the student's spine even in his dying moments.

"Huh? H-Hey now..." the student stammered, his voice weak and fading. He reached out a trembling hand towards Shizuka, a silent plea for help or understanding, but she remained oblivious, her focus solely on her own trivial world.

Before the student could utter another sound, his eyes glazed over, and his hand fell limply to the floor. He joined the ranks of the undead, another victim in this unfolding nightmare, all while Shizuka, completely unaware of the gravity of the situation, skipped out of the room, humming a tune and twirling her bag strap.

The silence left behind was deafening, broken only by the moans of the undead as they feasted on their fallen comrade. In that chilling silence, the line between innocence and ignorance, between obliviousness and cruelty, blurred into a horrifying reality, a stark reminder of the consequences of naivety in the face of a world gone mad.

—-------------------------------------------------

Saeko burst through the shattered glass door, her shinai a blur of deadly efficiency as she dispatched the feasting zombies. 

The air hung thick with the stench of blood and decay, a grim backdrop to the tableau before her. Shizuka, still blissfully unaware, skipped out of the room, leaving behind a scene of devastation.

Saeko approached the fallen student, her sharp eyes locking onto the bite mark marring his arm. He looked up at her, a flicker of hope battling the despair in his eyes. 

"I am Busujima Saeko, captain of the Kendo Club. Tell me, what is your name?" Her voice was a low murmur, devoid of warmth, yet strangely calming in the chaos.

A weak but resolute smile played on Ishii's lips. "Ishii... Kazu."

Saeko nodded, her gaze unwavering. "You fought bravely to protect Dr. Marikawa, Ishii. Your courage is nothing short of praiseworthy."

Ishii's grip tightened on the floor, his voice barely a whisper. "Do you know... what happens... once you've been bitten?"

He nods seeing what happened with his own two eyes.

"Yes," Saeko replied bluntly. "There is no coming back."

Ishii's face contorted in a brief grimace, then softened into acceptance. He closed his eyes, a single tear tracing a path down his cheek. He understood.

"Do you wish for your parents or friends to witness you like that?" Saeko inquired, her voice emotionless.

He shook his head weakly, a single tear escaping his closed eyelids.

Saeko knelt beside him, her gaze holding a strange reverence. "If you do not," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "then I shall end your life for you here and now. Though, it would be my first time killing another."

Ishii opened his eyes, meeting her stare. In that moment, a silent understanding passed between them. A warrior's acceptance, a burden shared, a flicker of humanity amidst the encroaching darkness.

The final plea escaped Ishii's lips, a choked, desperate "P-Please..."

Before Shizuka, who had re-entered the room and was about to speak, could utter another word, Saeko acted. Her shinai whipped through the air, a blur of deadly wood propelled by grim purpose. With a sickening thud, it connected with Ishii's skull, the impact mercifully silencing his plea along with his life.

Shizuka, ever bubbly, gasped, a look of bewilderment etched on her face. "W-Wait a sec, what--" she stammered, her words dying in her throat as she took in the gruesome scene.

Saeko turned to face her, her eyes cold and emotionless. "I recognize that you are the school nurse, but I request you not interfere," she stated, her voice devoid of warmth, yet strangely compelling. "One of our duties as women," she continued, her words laced with a dark humor, "is to protect a man's pride."

Shizuka's confusion morphed into a mix of fear and fascination. This woman, radiating an aura of controlled chaos, was unlike anyone she had ever encountered. Yet, in her warped logic, Saeko offered a twisted form of compassion, shielding Ishii from the horrific fate that awaited him.

Saeko remained silent, her gaze fixed on the fallen student. Each heavy step echoed in the room, a drumbeat of uncertainty. Finally, the figures stepped through the broken doorway.

As Saeko stood poised, her shinai held loosely at her side, the approaching footsteps grew louder. Shizuka, still clinging to her back, whimpered softly. "Who is it?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

Will's eyes widened as they took in the scene: the bloodstained floor, the slumped form of the student, and Saeko, her face streaked with crimson, a stark contrast to her usually stoic expression.

"Saeko!" he cried out, rushing towards her. His worry was evident in his voice, his usually playful demeanor replaced by a grim seriousness.

Before he could reach her, Sawa placed a hand on his arm, her brow furrowed in concern. "Will, wait," she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur.

Ignoring her momentarily, Will reached out, his hand hovering near Saeko's face. "Are you alright?" he asked gently, his eyes filled with worry and a touch of fear.

Saeko met his gaze, her own eyes devoid of their usual spark. "I'm fine," she said, her voice flat and emotionless. 

It was a lie, but the truth felt too heavy to bear, the darkness within her threatening to spill forth.

His worry was a stark contrast to the chilling scene surrounding them. 

He reached out, his warm touch a stark contrast to the coldness in her own skin, and grasped her blood-soaked hands.

"I'm glad you're okay." 

The warmth of his touch sent a jolt through Saeko, a spark that threatened to ignite the embers of the warmth she thought long extinguished. It was a warmth that resonated with the flicker of humanity struggling within her, a reminder of why she had fallen for Will in the first place.

He wasn't afraid. He didn't recoil at the blood staining her hands, a testament to the darkness she now embraced. He simply saw her, Saeko, even amidst the chaos and the monster she felt herself becoming.

The realization struck her with the force of a revelation. No matter how far she strayed into the darkness, no matter how deep the monster clawed its way to the surface, Will saw her. He saw the scared girl beneath the cold exterior, the girl who craved connection and love, even in this warped world.

Tears welled up in Saeko's eyes, a stark contrast to the cold glint that had resided there moments ago. They were tears not just of relief, but of a dawning understanding. The world might be a wasteland, the darkness might be a constant companion, but as long as she had Will, as long as that glimmer of humanity remained, she wouldn't face it alone.

She squeezed his hand back, a silent promise, a flicker of hope rekindled in the depths of her eyes. In the face of the apocalypse, in the face of the monster she had become, Will's care was a beacon, a reminder that even in the darkest corners, a spark of light could still survive.