leave me alone i angery

January 26th, 20XX.

It was the date Lexa figured out, several hours later after she was hospitalized as the intense pain she experienced was, as she partially expected, due to a collapsed lung—or, to be more medically correct, a primary spontaneous pneumothorax. Part of her left lung ruptured with air leaking into the pleural cavity, thus the balance of pressure was offset. As a result, her lung shriveled, withering like a balloon with a hole in it. By no apparent causes either, although the very same thing happened when she had collapsed in the past so it wasn't 𝘵𝘰𝘰 troubling.

But it was weird. Everything about this was weird, but the weirdest thing—aside from being in a fictional world—was no matter how she checked the date, the year was partially blocked out, only showing that it was the 21st century. Maybe it had something to do with Highschool of the Dead not having a set year? Lexa wasn't sure.

In the end, she couldn't dwell too much on the lack of a set year beyond sometime in 2000. Because just like the date, Lexa figured out something else while hospitalized. While this had been her third collapse ever, she was told it had only been her second collapse. Weirdly enough, if her memory served her right—and she was certain it did—it was around this particular month she had suffered from the second and last collapse in her old world, only at fourteen instead of the eighteen—and wow, was that weird too—she was now.

Her old world. It was a little weird to give it that title, admittedly, but calling it the real world didn't seem any better. Yes, she was in a reality that belonged to a manga series, but aside from a few odd instances, everything felt real. Actually, no. Everything was real. It was far too much for it to not be some level of real, but how she got into the world was anyone's guess.

...She didn't think she'd be able to escape or go back to where she came from though. Not without taking some pretty drastic measures, although as far as her knowledge on the isekai genre—ugh, really, why did it have to be that of all things—that was just how it was. Par for the course, typical. No one knew anything as to why they'd been sent or reborn into another world, and usually, they never would because there were usually more pressing matters.

𝘈𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨.

Anyway. As far as her lung went, this third—technically second, by this world's standards—collapse was a bit more severe than her previous experiences. She did not entirely lose consciousness at the scene, which was pretty much par for the course, but the pain and the shortness of breath that occurred with her deflated lung were anything but minor. Even after she was admitted to the hospital, and as much as she tried to recall the events, her memory was foggy at best. Frustrating as it was, it made sense. At the time, she could hardly breathe, her chest feeling as though there was a large, heavy weight on top of her that refused to get off, no matter how much she writhed in pain.

Lexa believed Saeko stayed as long as she could with her though. Reassuring her, comforting her. It made her wonder if she had any relations with the modern-day samurai as it was odd to believe Saeko would be this caring toward some stranger. Yes, Saeko conducted herself in a manner that was very desirable in traditional Japanese upbringings, but, with the events of the series in mind off the top of Lexa's head, Saeko was the first to realize that she and everyone else didn't have the resources to save everyone they come across when the group stayed at… the house of Marikawa Shizuka's friend.

What exactly was the name again? Something Rika. Rika… Minami? Eh, sounded about right. Minami Rika. One of the top five snipers in the Japan Self-Defense Force.

Anywho, Saeko had that cruel realization that not everyone could be saved and made it so no one would come to the house looking for help, keeping a low profile. Most would agree it was a smart but callous choice of Saeko's, especially that early on into the world ending. Not to mention what Saeko had done in the past, the dark side she kept buried with her sadism hidden behind the calm, collected exterior of a proper woman.

𝘚𝘢𝘦𝘬𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘻𝘶𝘬𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩. 𝘗𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘨𝘶𝘺 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘚𝘢𝘺𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘻𝘰𝘮𝘣𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯… 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧-𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦. 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘧 𝘐'𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘐'𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥, 𝘣𝘶𝘵…

Her eyebrow twitched. She could already tell this was going to be quite the headache. However, she decided that if she was something to Busujima Saeko, then figuring out exactly what would have to be put on hold for now. Bigger fish to fry, unfortunately… because, after all, this world was doomed to end.

'𝘊𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘻𝘰𝘮𝘣𝘪𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘺𝘱𝘴𝘦, 𝘰𝘣𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺.

It was a bitterness-fueled thought. It was really just her luck to be isekai'd in a world where overpowered, flesh-eating fuckheads would appear in spring. At least that was when Lexa had wagered since the title of the first chapter—and episode if she counted the anime—was called 𝘚𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘥. That, and the series did show cherry blossoms in bloom several times within the scenery.

𝘔𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘡-𝘋𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘈𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘭 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘮. Given that it was nearing the end of January, it left her with not quite two months at the earliest before the world would have to face the threat of . Zombies.

…Yeah, no. Zombies just sounded bizarre. Probably because Them weren't like most media zombies, Lexa guessed. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 were blind and relied entirely on hunting through sound, which was somewhat commonplace, sure, but most zombie media she saw didn't have the living dead so strong you'd stand no chance of escaping once grabbed—nor did they have the capability of defying the physics of the human body. Well, aside from still moving after death, but the point still stood that Lexa couldn't recall any other living dead opening their mouths so wide that it just flat-out unhinging their jaws 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 or somehow be able to turn their head almost a near 180-degree like an owl while in a headlock, certainly snapping a few bones in their neck.

𝘖𝘧𝘧-𝘵𝘰𝘱𝘪𝘤. 𝘍𝘰𝘤𝘶𝘴.

Right, right. Anyway, Z-Day could occur from late March to early April, though the more Lexa pondered, the more she began to lean towards April. In Japan, the start of the school year was April, and the main male character, Komuro Takashi, was taking Miyamoto Rei dating his best friend rather hard, especially when it seemed as though it was almost directly after she told him she'd be repeating a grade.

…𝘈𝘩. 𝘙𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘺, 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘺 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘎𝘰𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘹 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵.

Shidō Kōichi. He was a major problem for the series, especially when it was shown in the last few chapters that he was at the same exact elementary school the main cast was heading for. 𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 seemingly convincing the neighbors of the Miyamoto's to leave the mother of Rei out to die, but Lexa wasn't entirely sure about that. He was also the biggest reason why the main group gave up the mini-bus they used to get out of the school.

One could say that losing the mini-bus didn't matter, with Takashi and Co. going to Rika's house and plundering the illegal firearms she had instead, but the true problem would begin with Shidō showing up to the Takagi Estate. Where, if Lexa remembered correctly, the mini-bus would crash into one of the barricades after Shidō and his followers were forced away, letting in some of Them more quickly. All because of an EMP blast that had been written all kinds of wrong.

𝘙𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦… 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘡-𝘋𝘢𝘺. 𝘈𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵, 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘖𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘱𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘹𝘦𝘥.

"You'll be hospitalized for a week, maybe ten to twelve days."

Oh. Right. Yeah, Lexa had figured out something else.

Lifting her chin slightly to her right and keeping her head on the pillow, her eyes landed on an old woman, who she was very familiar with. Someone she loved dearly even but hadn't seen for far too long. An almost forgotten childhood memory. With long, silver hair pulled back in a bun, not a hair out of place, and warm, dark eyes shining with affection.

"The doctor said there's most likely no need for surgery, surprisingly, but they're going to start a drainage treatment," Hayashi Akari said in a soft voice, so mild-mannered. The woman had arrived as soon as she heard about the collapse, and the sight of her small, hunched frame brought a warm feeling in Lexa despite the pain in her chest and the suffocating feeling that didn't seem like it would ever subside.

"...Alright."

"I feel so terrible for you. You were doing so well only for it to collapse again six months later!"

Yeah. Sounded about right. She was pretty sure that was when her second collapse happened. The second collapse in the old world anyway, but while this initial collapse in this world was more severe than the others she had, Lexa noted she was going through the same scenario. She didn't need surgery before, and she didn't seem like she'd need it now. In fact, after resting for a bit, the suffocating pain in her chest had eased, although it was still pretty bad, and the X-ray of one of her lungs—shriveled and twisted—flashed through her mind.

"Ah. I'm sorry, Grandma…"

Biologically speaking, she and Akari shared no relation. Not even through marriage. Akari was her next-door neighbor, who offered to take care of her whenever her father was busy, and she was even her legal guardian in these types of situations due to her father's busy schedule. Saying grandma only felt…

Natural. Yeah, that was the word, and it was never a word Lexa used to describe many things. For Akari, that word was special.

"Now," Akari began, wrinkly lips pursed, "there's nothing for you to feel bad about. You can't help being ill, Lexa."

Yet another thing she found. Her name was still the same—or well, part of it anyway. Lexa, but her surname was apparently 𝘋𝘰𝘪 and not 𝘒𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘰. She thought it would have been 𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘢 like it originally was while she lived in Japan, but she guessed not. Another difference.

As Akari finished the sentence, the frown melted away into a smile with the wrinkles around her eyes deepening twice as much. Going by her own age of eighteen, the woman would be… sixty-eight, Lexa was sure, but Akari was still as lively as ever for being a frail-looking woman.

"Still," Lexa said, returning the smile with one of her own, "I am sorry for all of the trouble."

"Nonsense. It's no trouble to me at all, especially since my kids are all grown and my grands rarely visit," Akari told her, voice surprisingly firm. It was a tone Lexa knew she had no room to argue against. "You're like my child, too, you know. Anywho, I brought you some clothes, and if there is anything else you need, you let me know."

"...Thank you, Grandma." Her voice was raspy as Akari set a bag down beside the bed. She swallowed thickly, making sure not to move much as the pain seemed to increase whenever she shifted. "...What about my dad?"

It was not a question Lexa was prepared for, not truly. In her old world, her father had died when she was around 24, and it had been five long years since then. The fact that Akari was here meant that her dad should be around, too, and while it brought some happiness, it also brought...

Dread. Crushing dread. Because if her father was here, it meant that he had to deal with Them, too, eventually. Just like Akari.

"He'll be here tomorrow morning," Akari said. "Work ran late."

A new worry added for the oncoming days. She gave a tentative nod, turning her head back to stare at the ceiling.

"Oh, and your friend wished you a swift recovery."

She looked at Akari from her peripherals. "...Friend?"

Akari gave her a raised eyebrow, a peculiar look. "Busujima-san. Is she not your friend? You're both in the same club—" Her eyes widened slightly in what could only be a realization, and she let out a small gasp. "Oh no. You won't be able to do kendo anymore, and just when you were starting back, too."

"Ah..."

Friend. So Akari felt confident enough to feel as though she and Saeko were friends. That, and she was apparently a member of the kendo club. It wasn't too surprising as she'd been a part of the club back in her old world, but she was certain she had quit in middle school, more focused on less than legal activities. Based on Akari's words, that wasn't the case for this world as she had instead continued being part of the club. Tried to, at least.

...Did Saeko have anything to do with that then? Ugh. Another thing to figure out on the ever-growing list of problems. 𝘉𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘎𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘮𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨.

"The pain has made my head a bit fuzzy"—a lie—"so that slipped my mind." Undoubtedly a lie. She had a better memory than most, especially if she tried hard to remember. "It's okay about kendo though. It wasn't too fun, really."

The elderly woman released an 'oh-ho,' and Lexa didn't know just how much she missed Akari's tiny laugh whenever she found out something interesting. Her heart fluttered but only for a moment. "Is that so? I would've thought you liked it quite well since you dropped archery for it when you were younger, and you calmed down quite a bit."

Lexa gave a weak laugh, the pain spiking for a second. She didn't calm down in the slightest even when she was doing archery. She just became better at hiding the less than acceptable activities she'd do, but there was no need to let Akari know. No need to disappoint. "Yeah..."

Akari did not stick around for much longer. A nurse came, calling Lexa to a treatment room in the internal medicine department, and Akari promised she'd be back early in the morning.

Lexa hadn't been paying much attention to the nurses and the doctor but she was pretty sure the treatment she'd receive was called pleural drainage—where she'd be given a local anesthetic, then they would cut her chest open with a scalpel and insert a thin tube into her pleural cavity. Back in her old world, the treatment happened for a full week until her collapsed lung reinflated to its original shape and the hole sealed up, and then she was released without further incident. She was told that she had experienced a full recovery, but in the same breath, the doctor said there was a chance of recurrence.

Funny how she did get that recurrence. It only took her being transported into another world after she—

...𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘦, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘐... 𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯?

A dark thought. Very dark, but Lexa didn't have the time to follow that train of thought. The nurses prodded her, preparing her for the treatment, and so her attention was instead focused there. The lead physician wasn't terrible and neither was the pain as the tube was put into her. Just like before, if the air escaped through the tube and her lung reinflated with the hole closing up, she'd be on her way to a release—and once again, in the same breath, she was told there was a chance of another relapse even with a full recovery. With how severe this case seemed to be initially, they would most likely have to consider surgery if it happened once more.

Before in her old world when she heard this, it was depressing. Now not so much. Maybe because there were more pressing matters? Lexa wasn't sure. However, in her condition, there was little she could do. While her condition wasn't life-threatening, she was bedridden and weak.

...Weak just like before. With Kai. With Narumi. With everything.

She squeezed her eyes shut, flinching. The respirator beside her bed emitted a soft huffing, the sound of the air it sucked out of her chest being expelled through water inside the machine.

...𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵? 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐… 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘦? 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘰𝘵. 𝘜𝘯𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴… 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭. 𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥… 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘯𝘥. 𝘉𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘭𝘧𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘥… 𝘈𝘬𝘢𝘳𝘪 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. 𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦.

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴… 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘦𝘭. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮. 𝘞𝘩𝘺…?

𝘐… 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴?

The more Lexa thought about it, the more it seemed all too cruel. Although she died somewhat against her will, Lexa did resign herself to her fate partially because she thought she deserved to die, but another part of her simply wanted an escape. Escape from the terrible ordeal, from Kai, from the crushing guilt of Narumi. Everything.

In a way, Lexa supposed she did escape, but she was simply thrown into another situation that was arguably worse. In her old world, if she hadn't… died… she would have a normal life to go back to. Well, as normal as it could get with the abnormal profession she chose that fucked up someone else's life. Sure, she'd be spending the rest of her days repenting to Narumi, for fucking up her life, but this world? Normalcy wouldn't have a place to exist soon for the living dead would make sure of that. Even with the amount of fanservice, the series made a point in showing the characters adapting to the horrific events in a way that couldn't ever be unlearned if the world somehow returned to normal.

...Not to mention that if Akari and her dad were here, surely others from her past were around as well. Including Kai. She wasn't sure why she hadn't thought of him earlier, but it was likely just a trauma response. Out of sight, out of mind or it simply just did not happen if she blocked it out enough. (Like 𝘏𝘦𝘳.)

Met with the sight of the ceiling as she opened her eyes, Lexa looked out the window of her room.

She was in the inpatient ward, a ten-story building. Her room was on the eighth floor. Hazy points of illumination were below the dark sky, the city lights of Tokonosu City. It was…

Colorful. It reminded her a lot of the city lights back in Tokyo, actually.

Slowly, she sat up, and the incision below her armpit, where the tube had been inserted, throbbed and mingled with the ever-present chest pain, but it did not matter.

𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦…

Following that thought, Lexa did not hesitate to rip the tube out, freeing herself from her link to the machine. The pain barely registered, surprisingly, as blood spurted from the wound she made, warm and sticky, while the suffocating feeling increased tenfold. She ripped out the IV-drip, too, and stood, stumbling to the window.

The latch release was easy enough to find, but sliding the window open took more effort than she liked. A brisk, chilled breeze hit her face as soon as the window was opened, a shudder rolling down her spine. Peeking out, she hummed. Concrete was what she saw, and this height would do her good, but she had to be quick. Surely she'd be found out if she lingered, and she wasn't sure if she even had the strength to fight back against anyone who tried stopping her.

So out the window Lexa went, putting her feet along the ledge. She hadn't noticed before, but the moon was bright and full, looming over her. It felt… menacing in a way, especially with the very few stars she could see. Yet somehow it made the night beautiful, and she took a second to bask in the glow before there was a shout behind her.

It was far too late though. Her mind was made up, and all she needed to do was step off and let gravity take care of the rest. Whoever it was wouldn't have the time to catch her.

And so with a smile, Lexa stepped off the ledge.

The concrete approached fast, and she closed her eyes, preparing herself for when she'd hit the ground, her bones breaking and—

She did not hit the ground. Suddenly, the gusts of wind were no longer there, the chill of the night air gone. She couldn't seem to open her eyes but she knew there was darkness. Nothing but darkness. She felt weightless, too.

And then. And then, a few seconds passed, and finally, the darkness gave away and the weightless feeling passed with the ability to open her eyes returning. As her eyelids parted, her vision adjusting quickly, Lexa was greeted with the familiar sight of her hospital room's ceiling.

...𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵?

The respirator emitted the same soft huffing as before. She could see the IV drip in her hand, and it did not take her long to see and feel the tube below her armpit. As though she hadn't ever ripped them out.

Yet Lexa was so very certain she had jumped out the window, but here she was, lying in bed instead of being a pile of broken bones and bloody mush. Was it all a dream? A fantasy? No. No way. No fucking way.

She looked out the window. Unlike before, the window was fogged out and it looked as though someone had taken their finger to write out letters on the glass. Anger—

No. Rage surged through her, scorching as her eyes glared darkly, peering over the words:

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒅𝒊𝒆.