Part Thirty-One
Brian Boru
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A/N: This chapter was mostly the brainchild and hard work of Psyckosama and its thanks to him that this bad boy is still going...I still need to invest in that damn butterfly net for my coked out spazzing pixie of a muse. Further thanks to Lilbob for his contributions and Grey Rook for his proofreading services, this thing would never have gotten as far as it has without your help. Hope ya'll enjoy this slight deviation from Brody's personal adventures.
While Father Daniel Oshiro never liked to admit it, driving always made him feel sort of like a clown. At a clean two meters in height and 200 Kilos in weight, the simple fact was that there were very few vehicles in Japan that he could comfortably sit in let alone drive without being hunched over like those pictures of the Ox-King trying to drive a sub-compact in Dragonball.
Still, this was important work well worth the discomfort.
When Brody-san had left, that boy, Oga, had approached him about going out for more vehicles, and possibly "hitting up" several of the locations they'd seen on the way back for supplies.
While looting a storefront was an uncomfortable prospect to him, and was certainly not proper behavior for a man of the cloth, the simple reality was that the good of his flock far outweighed the laws of man.
He was sure that the Lord God would understand, though he would be making several extra prayers of penance, atop the many prayers he'd be making for the souls of the countless innocents who'd died over the past day. He couldn't give every one of them Last Rites, but he'd do his best to put their immortal souls to rest that they might find peace denied to them in life in God's embrace.
"Man, is it crowded in here." muttered one of the young toughs who had volunteered to accompany them. Speaking of embrace he was about done with the young man sitting directly behind him and his constant bellyaching about the lack of space. Lord give me strength…
They'd decided to take the smallest vehicle that could fit all of them. Which in this case was a Lexus wagon whose driver had abandoned the vehicle on the street only about a hundred meters from the entrance to the Storage Park, leaving the motor running with the keys in the ignition.
It has been judged to be a worthy sacrifice entirely due to its high quality. Even disconnecting the battery and moving the critical electronics into a shielded container probably wouldn't have been enough to save it in the event of the Electromagnetic Pulse that Brody-san was absolutely insistent that they'd soon face. The vehicle simply contained too many delicate electrical systems. Thus, it had been chosen to make this single one-way trip.
He'd be returning in a moving truck.
Now, normally, he'd have been quite pleased to be behind the wheel of such a fine vehicle. Not only was it finely made, with all the accouterments, but the seats could actually adjust to fit his frame.
This time, however, he'd rather have been trying to drive around in an old 360-cc Kei car. The Lexus was a fine, large, comfortable vehicle... when you weren't trying to fit 9 teenage boys and an additional 8 teenage girls into it along with the driver.
Even worse, with the undead about, and the fact that they were moving at a brisk 25 kilometers per hours, they were forced to keep the windows up.
The air conditioner was strong, but it was not meant to handle this many people. In addition, with the way that people were being crammed in, it was less cooling the car, and more making a couple of the girls complain loudly about frozen bottoms and uncomfortably placed drafts.
While he certainly appreciated those short skirts when he was a young man, as he grew older and wiser he found himself questioning what twisted logic had driven educational administrators to make them mandatory.
He could think of a couple of reasons, but considering them simply made him snort in condescension. And here they liked to cast aspersions about men of the cloth...
"You fucking pervert!" came a shrill cry from the back seat. Speak of the devil...
"Hey! What do you expect you crazy bitch, I've had your ass rubbing into my dick the entire time! Even a boney chick like you'll make a guy go hard if you do it long enough!"
"Are you calling me a no bottom flatty whose chest could be used to iron shirts!? I'll fucking kill you!"
He took a deep, long-suffering breath of hot, fetid, overused air. And that was enough...
He slammed on the breaks almost hard enough to kick through the footwell, while simultaneously jerking on the hand brake hard enough to make the metal squeal.
The overloaded vehicle screeched to a sudden stop punctuated by the sound of multiple thuds as the youths were slammed into seats, dashboards, and each other. Not hard enough to cause actual harm... but enough to be very uncomfortable.
Slowly he turned around and looked into the back, his vision slowly drifting over the many students within with a wild-eyed glare as he clenched his jaw and flexed his neck muscles, forcing blood into his skin, making his face turn a brilliant crimson.
The rest of the trip was as peaceful as the grave.
===================
To the outward observer, Hayato Shirakawa was the very image of manly leadership. Strong, proud, and on point, with his head held high, clad head to toe in armor he was ready to deal with any problem that came his way.
But that proud mask hid a terrified boy. A simmering mass of doubt and fear. Beyond the obvious fears of death and reanimation, he was Brody-sensei's deputy. He was the one who held the duty of protecting everyone else. Of telling them who fights and where.
It was a lot of weight for a seventeen-year-old boy, who before today had never seen anyone die. And if anyone died, it would be on him to take responsibility. If anyone died, it was probably because he messed up. It was a responsibility he'd have dumped on someone else's head in a moment, but at the same time, he would never do so because Brody-sensei had trusted him with it and no one else.
And as much as he hated it, at the same time, he was fearful that he was going to lose it. He didn't hate Takashi Komuro. Hell, he liked Takashi, but at the same time, he was afraid of him. Takashi, who'd joined them only in the past couple months, but who was already one of the only fighters in their group who could actually challenge him. Takashi, who was already respected by the others second only to himself and Kohta.
Takashi, the natural born leader. Takashi the natural born warrior.
And Hayato was nether. Everything he had he'd gotten the hard way, earned with blood, sweat, and tears. He became the best fighter by never staying down, always getting back up no matter how badly it hurt. By practicing his strikes until his hands bled. By exercising until it was all he could do to crawl into bed from the fatigue and exhaustion. By doing everything he could to earn the respect of his peers and dedicating himself body and soul to making sure that if someone had a problem, it was solved. If someone needed help, they were helped. By making sure no one was ever left behind, no matter the cost.
He'd been that person. The abandoned one, the forgotten one. Laughed at and dismissed by others as if he were nothing. It was a hellish fate that he'd allow no one to suffer. Not while he drew breath.
And that was his one fear above all others. Above death. Above failure. It was going back to being the nothing that Brody-sensei pulled out of the pits of despair. And as irrational as it was, seeing Takashi's rise made him feel threatened, as if he'd just be a rung to the other boy's rise, something to be stepped on and kicked back into that pit of hopelessness.
The fact that it had been Takashi and not him that Sensei had brought with him put this lingering fear at the forefront of his mind. Yes, sensei had said that as his second in command he needed him to command the others. But at the same time he couldn't help but feel that it was his place to be at his teacher's side... and that by taking Takashi he was replacing him.
He knew it was stupid. He knew that it was irrational. But that was fear for you.
"Hayato! We got another car coming!" shouted Kenta, one of the other Huscarls, shaking him from his mental meanderings, shoving those dark thoughts were they belonged. He didn't have time for them right now.
He quickly shot up the ladder laid against a container adjacent to the fence, his heavy arms and armor barely slowing him down.
Coming to his wiry comrade's side he looked in the direction the smaller Huscarl was pointing and spotted a familiar green Suzuki minivan making a beeline to the lot.
His heart jumped into his throat at the sight, and it was all he could do not to take a flying leap off of the roof to get to the gate faster.
After sliding down the ladder, he broke into a full run towards the entrance.
He'd tried calling earlier before leaving the school but the call had dropped with all the constant chatter over the cell towers, it was all he could do to send a couple of texts. He wasn't sure if he had explained where to go and what to do properly, or if it had even gotten through, but apparently, it had.
He came to a stop with a jerk when he reached the gate, the impromptu 50-meter dash, in full armor, during the heat of the day leaving him almost panting for a moment as his body struggled to regain lost oxygen.
Coming to a stop at the gate, he took a moment to regain his bearings. There was the gate guard, spears at the ready to drive back any dead. There was the first aid tent set up to both treat and examine anyone who came inside. As well as the food tent at the ready with leftovers and tea because with all the chaos that was going on, they'd determined that some warm tea and food in your belly could do the mind a lot of good.
And then, it seemed, there was the dozen or so armed people behind him, equipped with a mixture of everything from sword and spear to sporting equipment. There was even a pink-haired ganguro girl with a croquet mallet.
"There a problem?" asked Yoshi as he rested his prized replica Ulfberht sword on his shoulder.
Hayato smiled warmly at the cocky Thegn as he simply closed his eyes and shook his head. "No. No problem at all. Was just a bit... excited."
"Cool," replied the other youth. "Call me if you need me to hit something."
Looking back over as the gate began to open he simply replied by saying, "I'll do that."
Quickly the minivan was motioned inside and Hayato found himself pulling his helmet off and tossing it to one of the other boys, a member of the Kendo club who'd come running after him.
"Could you hold that for me for a minute?" he asked.
"Um, sure thing." the boy, who was actually in his Kendo armor, replied.
Hayato smiled and began to walk forward as the driver's side door opened, and from it emerged his grandfather.
Moments later he was joined by his mother and his grandfather's two apprentices. His mother, a slight woman who looked to be in her late thirties, started to run towards him the moment she saw him but, fighting his every instinct, he raised his hand.
"Wait!"
She paused in confusion and more than a little hurt that stuck him like a knife.
Steeling himself, he continued, "Mom, before you can come any closer, you have to let the people at the medical tent check you out. We can't risk anyone who's been bitten coming inside."
For a moment she looked as if she were ready to protest, but his grandfather stilled her with a hand on the shoulder.
"He is simply doing his duty," his grandfather stated with absolute surety, and a steely glint of pride in his eyes, "As a true man should."
===================
Even with the AC of his car running at full power, Shinzo Takayama was sweating like he'd just run a 100-meter dash in July. In the Gobi desert. The reason was fear and stress.
He was afraid for his wife. They lived on the seventh floor of their apartment building and if she were blocked in by the undead then she had no chance of getting out on her own. They obviously didn't have space to store much food and if the water was cut off then she only had a few days if that.
Trying to fight through them would be suicidal. He was willing to die for his family, but it wouldn't help them if he died before they were saved and from the sound of things, that's exactly what he was looking at.
Which brought him to the smirking, armor-clad teenage with the strange hair. Really, he didn't get why anyone would shave the sides and back, and but leave the top in a braided pony-tail. A top knot he could see, but this kid's hair. Just... strange.
But he wasn't about to judge the boy who'd volunteered to climb a building to get his wife and son out as anything but what he was. Heroic. Insane yes. But heroic nonetheless.
"What's your name?" he asked as they drove.
"Hoshi," he replied with a grin. "Hoshi Anzai. Friends call me Kumonga."
Shinzo blinked. "You mean like the Toho Kaiju?"
Hoshi smiled. "Yep!"
Shinzo quietly kept to himself his low opinion of the giant spider whose only real contribution to the Showa series was to bully Minilla, and who was last seen in Final Wars literally flying off into the sunset...
"Hochan." spoke a sweet and somewhat frazzled voice called out from the backseat of his car.
Inko Anzai was just about the last woman he'd expect to be the mother of a neo-viking thug. Short, plump, and sweet, she was like a human dumpling. With expressive eyes and a wide smile he could see how she'd probably been a beauty in her youth. Even now she was a woman best described as a huggable.
And she seemed to be quite fond of them too. The look on her son's face when she ambushed him at the door, crying by the gallon in happiness at the sight of her 'darling baby boy' was a piece of blackmail he'd never let the little punk live down.
Not because he had anything against the kid, mind you, but because it was hilarious.
Hiding the grimace from his mother at that embarrassing moniker, Geitur glanced back to his mother and said in a perfectly polite tone. "Yeah mom?"
"I wish you didn't use that nickname. You're not a monster, you're my little Spider-man."
"Mom!" he whined, "I've outgrown all that kiddie stuff."
"And yet you still make sure to record every episode of The Spectacular Spider-Man..." she said with a playful smile.
The boy began to stutter and blush, only for Shinzo to cut him off. "Spider-Man is a fine hero. Though I was always more a tokusatsu kid myself..."
The self-proclaimed Kumonga nodded sagaciously. "I always say there's two types of people. Super Sentai people and Kamen Rider people."
"Total Super Sentai guy right here." the teacher replied without a moment's hesitation.
"Good," the young punk said with a stiff nod. "We're going to get along just fine."
The moment of levity was cut short when his apartment complex came into view and his heart began to race before almost coming to a stop when he saw his wife and son standing on their balcony. The rest of the apartment was just as terrible as he feared, broken windows, people screaming and the undead swarming all over the place including several loitering on the balconies, making the fire escape an unlikely option. The entire visage was a perfect storm of horrible. Enough that a very real part of him wanted to simply break down and cry.
"Don't worry," Hoshi said with an unwavering tone. "I so got this. Just keep my back clear, okay?"
Shinzo looking to the boy, feeling empowered by the young man's courage.
"Right," he said, hoping beyond hope that the boy's courage wasn't unfounded.
"Hey mom," he said looking to the rear. "You got them ready?"
She nodded. "All done, honey," she said, referring to the pair of spears he'd asked her to put together.
The weapons themselves were somewhat ad hoc, a pair of cheap, hollow-gripped "camping" knives that had been fitted to a pair of shafts. In this case a mop handle and a long broomstick. He'd asked his mother to drive a couple screws into them while they drove to reinforce it on the way over.
One of them was apparently going to be his.
"I need you to call your wife," he said bluntly. "I need to tell her my plan."
Shinzo frowned. "What is it?"
The boy smirked. "Your wife's got plenty of clotheslines right?"
"Yes," he replied. "I believe so."
"She's gonna throw down a line then pull my rope up. Then she's gonna clip it to one of the fire escape rungs and I'll climb up. I'll kill any Zombies I see on my way up. If it's clear when I'm done, or at least close enough, then I can finish the job without getting myself killed. All else fails, I rappel down the side of the building with her and your kid on my back."
"But what if your line slips?" he demanded. The idea of watching his wife and son fall to their deaths was something he couldn't risk. Not ever.
"That's why I'm going to fix myself to multiple points on my way up," he replied. "One fails, the others get to take up the slack. I've been doing this for a while..."
"He took his first climbing lessons when he was six. He wanted to be Spider-Man when he grew up."
"Mom!"
She smiled. "I believe in you honey."
He blushed. "Thanks, mom..."
Shinzo couldn't help but sigh in relief. When a teenager says they've been doing something since they were six, it means that they've been doing it most of their life, and that was respectable. He'd just have to swallow his fear and put his faith in the boy.
"My apologies for doubting you, Anzai-san."
"Meh, it's your wife." the boy said, shrugging it off. "I'd think you were a prick if you weren't scared." Then his face hardened. "But enough of this touchy-feely shit. Call your wife. We're going to tell her the plan. And I'm going to need you to tell her to put on all of her thickest clothes."
"Hochan!" His mother gasped, her eyes wide and a little misty, as if hurt by his crude words.
"Oops..sorry mom, language…" He muttered sheepishly.
Ignoring that little interaction, Shinzo absently rubbed the heavy leather jacket that Brody-san had lent him.
Of course. Better safe than sorry.
As the car slowed to a stop, the two shared a look and for a moment, they were thinking with one mind.
"Let's do this shit."
Then the self-proclaimed Kumonga tensed up and looked back to his mother, expecting her to reprimand him. Instead, the woman simply looked him in the eye and smiled, looking as well pleased as a kitten with a can opener.
"You go do that shit."
=========================
Hisashi Igou liked to think himself largely free of things like petty jealousy. He liked to think himself blessed. He was smart, he was attractive, and he was talented. And this wasn't arrogance speaking. He was in line to be captain of the Karate team, while he was no womanizer, he knew he was popular with the girls, and his test scores spoke for themselves. He lived a blessed life, and because of that he did his best to never try and belittle or insult people for things out of their control, and never under any circumstances envy them for their personal victories.
Thusly, it was with the most heavy heart that he had to admit that he was jealous of Takashi. He didn't like it, and he honestly felt the need to apologize, but a treasonous part of him looked at his best friend's rise over the past few months and couldn't help but be a bit piqued.
It had all started when he'd become a rising star in the new Western Reenactment Club. Before that, Hisashi had been the fighter of the group. He respected him for it, but at the same time, it felt like something of a challenge.
Then his grades started to improve. He knew Takashi was smart but undermotivated. He was very much pleased with this. But at the same time, he couldn't help but notice Takashi was actually beginning to creep up on his grades.
These two, he could almost understand. He somewhat felt like his place in their group was being challenged. But at the same time, he welcomed it. Having a best friend was good and righteous thing. Having a best friend and a rival was a glorious way to fuel the fires of your spirit and drive you to new heights.
It was the last two aspects however that he really couldn't help but get irked by.
First and foremost was what really made him feel those unwanted pangs though was the current situation. Now, he knew that was the most idiotic thing possible to say considering it was the end of the damned world, but he couldn't help it. It was part of being human, even if it was something that he knew to be completely stupid.
He was outright jealous of Takashi and how he'd jumped right into a situation of de facto authority. He was fighting on the line against the undead. He was going on adventures with Brody-sensei. People were making room when he walked past.
Which of course lead him into the second aspect.
He was dating one of the hottest girls in the school and now he had Saya freckin' Takagi giving him love eyes!
He wouldn't even pretend that he didn't like Rei. She was beautiful, intelligent, and kind with a fire to her he couldn't help but admire. Everything a man could desire in a woman. Even when they'd been estranged, he had done as much as he could to respect Takashi's feelings for her, but having seen his friend's distance from her and her resulting distance from him.
And then there was Saya who frankly was intelligent, hotter than hell, and actually shockingly sane. She was basically a statistical impossibility. And she was rich on top of it just to add more improbability to it all.
To be blunt. She was out of his league. She was out of both of their leagues. Hell. She was out of the league of anyone he'd ever met so far that she was like this illustrious goddess standing on a great golden pedestal made out of pure shining 'too good for you' all in an extra fun-sized package.
He couldn't help but grunt in annoyance and exasperation at that last bit. And maybe a bit of resentment. His best friend had two hot girls going after him and here he was, a bachelor.
It was like the world had turned into an anime overnight, and as dumb as it sounded, as much as it irked him, he couldn't help but feel... well... usurped. Like there was this stupid, puerile little voice inside him that couldn't help but say...
I should be the harem protagonist, god damn it!
This really just left him with two paths. First, he could become jealous of his best friend. This was simply unbecoming and unacceptable and would reflect very poorly on him. It would be shameful and he would not allow it.
Second, he could embrace it. If Takashi was fated to be his rival, he would not only accept the challenge but revel in it. He would allow his best friend to become the measure of which he judged himself and try and surpass him. And if he could not surpass him, he would at least force him to give his best so as to never allow himself to become complacent and fall behind again.
And he'd encourage Takashi to do the same. After all, nothing is sadder than watching your rival fall by the wayside, right? It was something that couldn't be permitted!
Oh, and he really needed to get a girlfriend. Can't forget that bit.
"Hey, Hisashi!"
He smiled and looked up to the face of Wakata Kuniyoshi, his senpai and the captain of the team. He was a good guy who, while he was no genius martial artist, he was a hard worker who had learned well from his own struggles and come out of it with a gift for motivating others to do their best and help them learn. His dream was to be the master of his own Dojo someday, and he very much believed in his captain.
"Yes, senpai?"
The older boy didn't answer at first, seeming to gather his thoughts before smiled weakly. "God this is all so fucked up."
Takashi simply nodded. That much was for sure and it's not like he could really add anything to better clarify exactly how fucked up the situation really was.
"Tell me about it." It was all he could really say.
"We need to talk," his captain said after a long pause, his face clearly showing some slight discomfort.
This made Hisashi frown. His fellow student looked very pensive and uncomfortable. "Is something the matter?"
He paused. Stupid question.
"Besides... well... everything else?"
The older teen laughed. "It's not that something is wrong," he said. "More... look. Can I be honest with you, Hisashi?"
Hisashi nodded. "Of course!"
Wakata sighed. "Listen, well, I don't know how to put this, and considering the situation, it might seem like a stupid thing to say but... I want you to take over the club."
If there was anything he was going to say, that was probably the last thing Hisashi expected to hear. Wakata was a good guy and Hisashi was perfectly happy to be his subordinate. He couldn't imagine why he'd want to step down as captain.
"I don't understand," Hisashi replied. "You're a good captain."
"Hisashi," Wakata said after a moment. "I'm a teacher. I like helping others learn, and I at least like to think I'm good at it... but you're a better leader and a better fighter than I am. There's a reason I always ask for your advice. You're better at it than I am, and if we were the same age, you'd already be captain for sure." He took a deep breath. "When this was a school club, giving it my all to make sure that everyone knew their stuff and asking advice was good enough. But this is life and death and the guys... they deserve the best leader, the best fighter, the guy who can inspire them to never stop fighting... and that? It's not me. It's you."
Hisashi didn't know what to say. On one hand, what until the world went mad had been one of his ambitions was offering itself to him. On the other, it hurt to see someone he both respected and admired to be putting himself out like that and saying that he was wanting. But at the same time, he could feel the respect and faith that his senior had for him and it was touching. So very, very deeply touching that he had that much faith in him.
"I... have you talked to the others about this?" he asked. "I mean, I don't want to just spring this on them."
He nodded sadly. "Yeah, and they're with it. We all think this is for the best."
Hisashi closed his eyes and slowly bowed to his senpai. "Very well, I accept this honor."
Wakata couldn't help but smile. "Great, so what now, Captain?"
Hisashi smiled. "Well how about you tell me what you had everyone doing?"
The older boy nodded. "Well right now I told everyone to search containers for useful stuff. We're going to be moving out in a day or so, right? So we only have so much time."
He couldn't help but nod. "Good idea. As I'd expect of my second in command." He grinned. "You're not getting out of this that easily, Wakata."
The other boy smiled wearily. "I can live with that. So what's your plan?"
He looked at the fence. "We're going to need to diversify our skills."
Wakata blinked. "What? How so?"
"Karate's great. I love it, and we're going to teach it to as many people as possible but we're going to need to expand our weapons skills," Hisashi explained. "Hand to hand with zombies is not a good idea."
Wakata nodded. "Good call. Anyone in particular you're thinking?"
"Yeah," he replied after a moment, "Brody-sensei for one."
"You sure?"
He nodded. "Yeah. You saw how his guys fought off that horde. His fighting style is good against large numbers of weak opponents. We need to be able to help out and the more shields they have the better we can protect the others. Otherwise, I'll have to talk to the... well... other club captains."
Wakata smiled, "And make sure to tell them I'll teach anyone who wants to learn."
"Of cour-" he began before being cut off.
"Senpai!"
Both boys turned to look at the onrushing form of Shouta Murata. He was a first-year, a short but diligent student who was very much a late bloomer, which meant that while he was 15, he looked closer to 12. Or as some of the more ignorant members of the student body would say, stick him in a dress and he'd make a cute girl.
"Yes?" Hisashi asked.
He looked over to Hisashi and then glanced to Wakata, who then turned to his and nodded to Hisashi.
Shouta nodded in understanding and took a deep breath. "We found something. You need to see this."
Hisashi nodded to him. "Alright, lead the way"
He was quickly directed to a storage container that had already begun to gather a crowd.
"Settle down and let the captain though!" Wakata announced in his best "Do as I say" voice.
And it was a strong voice at that, which did a good job of getting everyone to calm down and step to the side.
Inside the container, he saw a large number of boxes of all kinds and of all sizes. Though he did notice one thing off the top of his head. A predominant number of them were wide, tall, and flat.
The team seemed to be gathered around an open box and were looking at something. And every one of them was smiling.
"Alright guys," he said, doing his best to project authority and control. "What do you have for me?"
Yuudai, one of the seniors just grinned at him and passed him what looked to be a brochure. "See for yourself, captain."
Hisashi did so and what he saw on the front of it made his eyes go wide.
Akatsuki Solar.
His eyes immediately went to the contents of the container as his jaw went just a little bit slack. Dozens of boxes, flat and wide. Many of which were taller than he was. The intensity of the realization of what he was looking at was very much like being struck in the face with a fresh fish.
Needless to say, their smiles were infectious.
"Good job, guys," he said, not knowing what else to say. "Good job guys."
----------------------
Some people would claim that Yusuke Sawanara was a demon. Others said he was a bear of a man. Personally, the self-proclaimed Onikumo liked to think he was both.
He'd always been from the rough side of town. He'd seen both his first robbery and stabbing before he entered grade school, and participated in both by the time he was in middle school. He was not a nice person, he'd admit that.
Didn't hurt that he was huge. Some guys hit puberty. Puberty hit him. He was taller than any of his teachers at twelve and started shaving at age thirteen. He was just one of those guys who had a natural gift for violence. The kind who were big and capable of breaking a man with the ease most people took a shit. He wasn't born looking for a life of crime, just, well, he was always just the biggest and the strongest guy around.
And in a world where weakness is death and the strong take what they want, of course he was going to leverage the one thing he had going for him. It's not like his grades were worth a goddamn and he sure as hell wasn't going to get by on his looks.
Strange how things turn out, really. A year ago he was the number one punk in town. Now he was a zombie hunting Viking. Shit's stranger than Anime.
But was the last part that had got him thinking. There was this nerd girl from the rich kids school giving him love eyes or some shit. She was short and built like a rail. Pale as a ghost and with these dark bags under her eyes. If she looked any more fucked up like that he'd be wondering if she didn't belong on the other side of the fence.
Still, a girl was a girl, and he wasn't the picky type.
"Like what you see, girl?"
He smirked and pulled up his shirt sleeve to show off a bicep that was probably wider around than her torso.
She flushed somewhat, going wide-eyed at the display, bringing a smile to the bears-ogre's face.
"No," she replied, catching herself, "I saw you pulling the seats out of that van."
He nodded. Yeah. They'd managed to nab a couple vehicles from outside the gate, and had just finished ripping the seats out. He wasn't going to say much about the smell, but it was sure as shit better than hoofing it.
"What of it?" he asked.
"I was thinking," she replied. "About that one..."
She pointed to the largest, and frankly, the creepiest of the lot. A minibus that looked like goddamned Pikachu.
He couldn't help but shudder.
Now that one had been the stuff of pure goddamned nightmares.
"You okay?"
He stood up ramrod straight.
He grunted with embarrassment. "Yeah, I'm fine..."
She frowned slightly. "We could use more of those."
He grimaced at the very thought of it.
So many little eyes...
But at the same time, she was right.
"What are you thinking?" he asked, "Cruise around the city and look for busses full of zombie first-graders?"
She flinched and shook her head. "No, nothing like that... it's just... well... they have to come from somewhere? Right?"
His eyes went wide and he smiled. Most people said it was a terrifying sight, but she seemed to be unshaken by it.
Good on you, girly.
"You skinny little genius!" he barked jumping to his feet.
She blinked in confusion. "What?"
Without even saying a word, he put his hands around her waist, completely covering it, and lifted her into the air as if she was weightless, then plopped the crimson, petrified girl onto his shoulder as if she were a humanoid parrot.
"Come on girly." he barked, "Let's you and I go talk to some nerds about finding us a bus depot to loot!"
----------------------------------
As Souichiro Takagi watched Brody's vehicle vanish into the distance he could not help but be beset by both fear and doubt. He'd never admit such things, but it was the honest reality of it for a multitude of reasons.
First, there was the issue of pride. It somewhat stung for him to effectively pass on initiative, and with it, the effective torch of leadership to the strange gaijin. His own followers would deny he'd done such a thing, but he knew the truth. In the end, a leader had to lead. He made the decisions and right now, he was deferring to another. And as much as it pained him to even admit to himself, the man was likely to continue to do so.
For Souichiro was a man out of his element. He knew how to keep his people alive, he'd planned for all sorts of emergencies. But even with his wife's invaluable aid, he had no idea how to manage this and the time it would take them to come to terms with it. And in times like this, a moment wasted was a life lost.
Thomas Brody, on the other hand, had had an entire year to come to terms. To plan and to prepare. He had the gift of foresight and that was a tool that could not be understated. If a moment wasted was a life lost, then his year of dutiful preparation had saved the lives of thousands.
His own included. And most importantly, that of his dearest Yuriko. For that alone, he would have been willing to swear a life's debt to the man.
He'd have to come to terms with the reality. By the time Brody's preparations reached their fruition, attempting to seize control politically would be unbecoming, and attempting to do so via force would be an unforgivable act he could not even entertain. His ancestors would turn their backs on him for even imagining such a shameful display.
But despite all of this, as he watched the vehicle retreat, he could not help but feel his heart become burdened with terror. For inside it was the most precious of his treasures. The only thing he'd sacrifice all others for.
He only hoped the man would comprehend the sheer enormity of trust shown by granting him custody of his precious Saya.
There was a small shuffle of movement next to him, and he glanced down to see his wife standing next to him.
Without a word, his eyes turned back to the street, but his hand reached out and grasped hers. And then his heart was lifted and he was filled with fresh confidence. They would survive this. They would thrive. The fires of the Japanese spirit would never be extinguished.
"Hey, Takagi-dude..."
His teeth clenched with enough force that he could hear the enamel creak as the scent of cannabis smoke cursed his nostrils with its pungent presence.
Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, and failing, his did his best to still the flames of his burning blood and deal with this... situation properly.
Removing his hand from his wife's grasp, he slowly turned around, his eyes all but blazing in their sockets.
Standing before him one of Brody's delinquents. Obviously one of the ones who, despite the teacher's best efforts, had failed to awaken his true warrior spirit and instead had grown dependent on drugs to make up for his inadequacies as a man. He was standing before him, eyes bloodshot, and his face twisted into the stupid smile of someone who was possessed of only half their wits but believed they'd just come to the most profound realization in the history of man.
"What," he stated with the finality of the grave.
"I've been thinkin', Takagi-dude," he said with a wide, earnest smile as he was left completely oblivious to Souichiro's fury.
"What," he repeated, doing his best to keep his blood pressure under control as he could feel the veins in his neck begin to pulsate under the force.
"We really ought to... you know go nab my cousin's grow op," he said with complete irreverence. "It's like... huge."
It took him a moment to realize what the... absolute raging moron... before him had said before he could fully process it. He'd actually had to think about it twice, each time his anger doubled upon itself. Was this drug-addled twit seriously suggesting that he, the head of the local Ultra-nationalist organization? A man who had repeated crusaded against the evils of drug use... aid him in retrieving something so honorless and debased?
I was almost enough to push him beyond the limits of his rationality. Almost. But almost was still more than most.
It was only his wife's hand on his shoulders that had kept him from ordering some sort of punishment for the boy. It was really all he could do to keep from throttling him.
But what he heard next was what really sent his mind reeling.
"That is a brilliant suggestion." his wife stated with absolute earnestly.
For the second time in as many minutes, his mind lurched as it was violently wrenched from its train of thought.
He knew Yuriko was absolutely not one to entertain fools. So why would she seriously suggest that they do something so insanely stupid?
His questioning eyes met hers, and she simply said one sentence.
"Hemp is a very useful plant," she stated.
The fires of his soul quickly quieted. Of course. Cannabis was the hemp plant. Yes. He could absolutely see how that would be useful. But for his wife to say something was very useful, it had to have much more going for it than making rope.
He'd asked her to outline it when they had a moment. Until then, he'd allow her to handle it, something which she agreed upon with an unspoken nod.
"Very well," he said, as he doused the flames of his spirit. "My wife will handle this."
The young man smiled. "Righto!"
"And never call me 'Takagi-dude' again"
"Um...righto…?"
While Father Daniel Oshiro never liked to admit it, driving always made him feel sort of like a clown. At a clean two meters in height and 200 Kilos in weight, the simple fact was that there were very few vehicles in Japan that he could comfortably sit in let alone drive without being hunched over like those pictures of the Ox-King trying to drive a sub-compact in Dragonball.
Still, this was important work well worth the discomfort.
When Brody-san had left, that boy, Oga, had approached him about going out for more vehicles, and possibly "hitting up" several of the locations they'd seen on the way back for supplies.
While looting a storefront was an uncomfortable prospect to him, and was certainly not proper behavior for a man of the cloth, the simple reality was that the good of his flock far outweighed the laws of man.
He was sure that the Lord God would understand, though he would be making several extra prayers of penance, atop the many prayers he'd be making for the souls of the countless innocents who'd died over the past day. He couldn't give every one of them Last Rites, but he'd do his best to put their immortal souls to rest that they might find peace denied to them in life in God's embrace.
"Man, is it crowded in here." muttered one of the young toughs who had volunteered to accompany them. Speaking of embrace he was about done with the young man sitting directly behind him and his constant bellyaching about the lack of space. Lord give me strength…
They'd decided to take the smallest vehicle that could fit all of them. Which in this case was a Lexus wagon whose driver had abandoned the vehicle on the street only about a hundred meters from the entrance to the Storage Park, leaving the motor running with the keys in the ignition.
It has been judged to be a worthy sacrifice entirely due to its high quality. Even disconnecting the battery and moving the critical electronics into a shielded container probably wouldn't have been enough to save it in the event of the Electromagnetic Pulse that Brody-san was absolutely insistent that they'd soon face. The vehicle simply contained too many delicate electrical systems. Thus, it had been chosen to make this single one-way trip.
He'd be returning in a moving truck.
Now, normally, he'd have been quite pleased to be behind the wheel of such a fine vehicle. Not only was it finely made, with all the accouterments, but the seats could actually adjust to fit his frame.
This time, however, he'd rather have been trying to drive around in an old 360-cc Kei car. The Lexus was a fine, large, comfortable vehicle... when you weren't trying to fit 9 teenage boys and an additional 8 teenage girls into it along with the driver.
Even worse, with the undead about, and the fact that they were moving at a brisk 25 kilometers per hours, they were forced to keep the windows up.
The air conditioner was strong, but it was not meant to handle this many people. In addition, with the way that people were being crammed in, it was less cooling the car, and more making a couple of the girls complain loudly about frozen bottoms and uncomfortably placed drafts.
While he certainly appreciated those short skirts when he was a young man, as he grew older and wiser he found himself questioning what twisted logic had driven educational administrators to make them mandatory.
He could think of a couple of reasons, but considering them simply made him snort in condescension. And here they liked to cast aspersions about men of the cloth...
"You fucking pervert!" came a shrill cry from the back seat. Speak of the devil...
"Hey! What do you expect you crazy bitch, I've had your ass rubbing into my dick the entire time! Even a boney chick like you'll make a guy go hard if you do it long enough!"
"Are you calling me a no bottom flatty whose chest could be used to iron shirts!? I'll fucking kill you!"
He took a deep, long-suffering breath of hot, fetid, overused air. And that was enough...
He slammed on the breaks almost hard enough to kick through the footwell, while simultaneously jerking on the hand brake hard enough to make the metal squeal.
The overloaded vehicle screeched to a sudden stop punctuated by the sound of multiple thuds as the youths were slammed into seats, dashboards, and each other. Not hard enough to cause actual harm... but enough to be very uncomfortable.
Slowly he turned around and looked into the back, his vision slowly drifting over the many students within with a wild-eyed glare as he clenched his jaw and flexed his neck muscles, forcing blood into his skin, making his face turn a brilliant crimson.
The rest of the trip was as peaceful as the grave.
===================
To the outward observer, Hayato Shirakawa was the very image of manly leadership. Strong, proud, and on point, with his head held high, clad head to toe in armor he was ready to deal with any problem that came his way.
But that proud mask hid a terrified boy. A simmering mass of doubt and fear. Beyond the obvious fears of death and reanimation, he was Brody-sensei's deputy. He was the one who held the duty of protecting everyone else. Of telling them who fights and where.
It was a lot of weight for a seventeen-year-old boy, who before today had never seen anyone die. And if anyone died, it would be on him to take responsibility. If anyone died, it was probably because he messed up. It was a responsibility he'd have dumped on someone else's head in a moment, but at the same time, he would never do so because Brody-sensei had trusted him with it and no one else.
And as much as he hated it, at the same time, he was fearful that he was going to lose it. He didn't hate Takashi Komuro. Hell, he liked Takashi, but at the same time, he was afraid of him. Takashi, who'd joined them only in the past couple months, but who was already one of the only fighters in their group who could actually challenge him. Takashi, who was already respected by the others second only to himself and Kohta.
Takashi, the natural born leader. Takashi the natural born warrior.
And Hayato was nether. Everything he had he'd gotten the hard way, earned with blood, sweat, and tears. He became the best fighter by never staying down, always getting back up no matter how badly it hurt. By practicing his strikes until his hands bled. By exercising until it was all he could do to crawl into bed from the fatigue and exhaustion. By doing everything he could to earn the respect of his peers and dedicating himself body and soul to making sure that if someone had a problem, it was solved. If someone needed help, they were helped. By making sure no one was ever left behind, no matter the cost.
He'd been that person. The abandoned one, the forgotten one. Laughed at and dismissed by others as if he were nothing. It was a hellish fate that he'd allow no one to suffer. Not while he drew breath.
And that was his one fear above all others. Above death. Above failure. It was going back to being the nothing that Brody-sensei pulled out of the pits of despair. And as irrational as it was, seeing Takashi's rise made him feel threatened, as if he'd just be a rung to the other boy's rise, something to be stepped on and kicked back into that pit of hopelessness.
The fact that it had been Takashi and not him that Sensei had brought with him put this lingering fear at the forefront of his mind. Yes, sensei had said that as his second in command he needed him to command the others. But at the same time he couldn't help but feel that it was his place to be at his teacher's side... and that by taking Takashi he was replacing him.
He knew it was stupid. He knew that it was irrational. But that was fear for you.
"Hayato! We got another car coming!" shouted Kenta, one of the other Huscarls, shaking him from his mental meanderings, shoving those dark thoughts were they belonged. He didn't have time for them right now.
He quickly shot up the ladder laid against a container adjacent to the fence, his heavy arms and armor barely slowing him down.
Coming to his wiry comrade's side he looked in the direction the smaller Huscarl was pointing and spotted a familiar green Suzuki minivan making a beeline to the lot.
His heart jumped into his throat at the sight, and it was all he could do not to take a flying leap off of the roof to get to the gate faster.
After sliding down the ladder, he broke into a full run towards the entrance.
He'd tried calling earlier before leaving the school but the call had dropped with all the constant chatter over the cell towers, it was all he could do to send a couple of texts. He wasn't sure if he had explained where to go and what to do properly, or if it had even gotten through, but apparently, it had.
He came to a stop with a jerk when he reached the gate, the impromptu 50-meter dash, in full armor, during the heat of the day leaving him almost panting for a moment as his body struggled to regain lost oxygen.
Coming to a stop at the gate, he took a moment to regain his bearings. There was the gate guard, spears at the ready to drive back any dead. There was the first aid tent set up to both treat and examine anyone who came inside. As well as the food tent at the ready with leftovers and tea because with all the chaos that was going on, they'd determined that some warm tea and food in your belly could do the mind a lot of good.
And then, it seemed, there was the dozen or so armed people behind him, equipped with a mixture of everything from sword and spear to sporting equipment. There was even a pink-haired ganguro girl with a croquet mallet.
"There a problem?" asked Yoshi as he rested his prized replica Ulfberht sword on his shoulder.
Hayato smiled warmly at the cocky Thegn as he simply closed his eyes and shook his head. "No. No problem at all. Was just a bit... excited."
"Cool," replied the other youth. "Call me if you need me to hit something."
Looking back over as the gate began to open he simply replied by saying, "I'll do that."
Quickly the minivan was motioned inside and Hayato found himself pulling his helmet off and tossing it to one of the other boys, a member of the Kendo club who'd come running after him.
"Could you hold that for me for a minute?" he asked.
"Um, sure thing." the boy, who was actually in his Kendo armor, replied.
Hayato smiled and began to walk forward as the driver's side door opened, and from it emerged his grandfather.
Moments later he was joined by his mother and his grandfather's two apprentices. His mother, a slight woman who looked to be in her late thirties, started to run towards him the moment she saw him but, fighting his every instinct, he raised his hand.
"Wait!"
She paused in confusion and more than a little hurt that stuck him like a knife.
Steeling himself, he continued, "Mom, before you can come any closer, you have to let the people at the medical tent check you out. We can't risk anyone who's been bitten coming inside."
For a moment she looked as if she were ready to protest, but his grandfather stilled her with a hand on the shoulder.
"He is simply doing his duty," his grandfather stated with absolute surety, and a steely glint of pride in his eyes, "As a true man should."
===================
Even with the AC of his car running at full power, Shinzo Takayama was sweating like he'd just run a 100-meter dash in July. In the Gobi desert. The reason was fear and stress.
He was afraid for his wife. They lived on the seventh floor of their apartment building and if she were blocked in by the undead then she had no chance of getting out on her own. They obviously didn't have space to store much food and if the water was cut off then she only had a few days if that.
Trying to fight through them would be suicidal. He was willing to die for his family, but it wouldn't help them if he died before they were saved and from the sound of things, that's exactly what he was looking at.
Which brought him to the smirking, armor-clad teenage with the strange hair. Really, he didn't get why anyone would shave the sides and back, and but leave the top in a braided pony-tail. A top knot he could see, but this kid's hair. Just... strange.
But he wasn't about to judge the boy who'd volunteered to climb a building to get his wife and son out as anything but what he was. Heroic. Insane yes. But heroic nonetheless.
"What's your name?" he asked as they drove.
"Hoshi," he replied with a grin. "Hoshi Anzai. Friends call me Kumonga."
Shinzo blinked. "You mean like the Toho Kaiju?"
Hoshi smiled. "Yep!"
Shinzo quietly kept to himself his low opinion of the giant spider whose only real contribution to the Showa series was to bully Minilla, and who was last seen in Final Wars literally flying off into the sunset...
"Hochan." spoke a sweet and somewhat frazzled voice called out from the backseat of his car.
Inko Anzai was just about the last woman he'd expect to be the mother of a neo-viking thug. Short, plump, and sweet, she was like a human dumpling. With expressive eyes and a wide smile he could see how she'd probably been a beauty in her youth. Even now she was a woman best described as a huggable.
And she seemed to be quite fond of them too. The look on her son's face when she ambushed him at the door, crying by the gallon in happiness at the sight of her 'darling baby boy' was a piece of blackmail he'd never let the little punk live down.
Not because he had anything against the kid, mind you, but because it was hilarious.
Hiding the grimace from his mother at that embarrassing moniker, Geitur glanced back to his mother and said in a perfectly polite tone. "Yeah mom?"
"I wish you didn't use that nickname. You're not a monster, you're my little Spider-man."
"Mom!" he whined, "I've outgrown all that kiddie stuff."
"And yet you still make sure to record every episode of The Spectacular Spider-Man..." she said with a playful smile.
The boy began to stutter and blush, only for Shinzo to cut him off. "Spider-Man is a fine hero. Though I was always more a tokusatsu kid myself..."
The self-proclaimed Kumonga nodded sagaciously. "I always say there's two types of people. Super Sentai people and Kamen Rider people."
"Total Super Sentai guy right here." the teacher replied without a moment's hesitation.
"Good," the young punk said with a stiff nod. "We're going to get along just fine."
The moment of levity was cut short when his apartment complex came into view and his heart began to race before almost coming to a stop when he saw his wife and son standing on their balcony. The rest of the apartment was just as terrible as he feared, broken windows, people screaming and the undead swarming all over the place including several loitering on the balconies, making the fire escape an unlikely option. The entire visage was a perfect storm of horrible. Enough that a very real part of him wanted to simply break down and cry.
"Don't worry," Hoshi said with an unwavering tone. "I so got this. Just keep my back clear, okay?"
Shinzo looking to the boy, feeling empowered by the young man's courage.
"Right," he said, hoping beyond hope that the boy's courage wasn't unfounded.
"Hey mom," he said looking to the rear. "You got them ready?"
She nodded. "All done, honey," she said, referring to the pair of spears he'd asked her to put together.
The weapons themselves were somewhat ad hoc, a pair of cheap, hollow-gripped "camping" knives that had been fitted to a pair of shafts. In this case a mop handle and a long broomstick. He'd asked his mother to drive a couple screws into them while they drove to reinforce it on the way over.
One of them was apparently going to be his.
"I need you to call your wife," he said bluntly. "I need to tell her my plan."
Shinzo frowned. "What is it?"
The boy smirked. "Your wife's got plenty of clotheslines right?"
"Yes," he replied. "I believe so."
"She's gonna throw down a line then pull my rope up. Then she's gonna clip it to one of the fire escape rungs and I'll climb up. I'll kill any Zombies I see on my way up. If it's clear when I'm done, or at least close enough, then I can finish the job without getting myself killed. All else fails, I rappel down the side of the building with her and your kid on my back."
"But what if your line slips?" he demanded. The idea of watching his wife and son fall to their deaths was something he couldn't risk. Not ever.
"That's why I'm going to fix myself to multiple points on my way up," he replied. "One fails, the others get to take up the slack. I've been doing this for a while..."
"He took his first climbing lessons when he was six. He wanted to be Spider-Man when he grew up."
"Mom!"
She smiled. "I believe in you honey."
He blushed. "Thanks, mom..."
Shinzo couldn't help but sigh in relief. When a teenager says they've been doing something since they were six, it means that they've been doing it most of their life, and that was respectable. He'd just have to swallow his fear and put his faith in the boy.
"My apologies for doubting you, Anzai-san."
"Meh, it's your wife." the boy said, shrugging it off. "I'd think you were a prick if you weren't scared." Then his face hardened. "But enough of this touchy-feely shit. Call your wife. We're going to tell her the plan. And I'm going to need you to tell her to put on all of her thickest clothes."
"Hochan!" His mother gasped, her eyes wide and a little misty, as if hurt by his crude words.
"Oops..sorry mom, language…" He muttered sheepishly.
Ignoring that little interaction, Shinzo absently rubbed the heavy leather jacket that Brody-san had lent him.
Of course. Better safe than sorry.
As the car slowed to a stop, the two shared a look and for a moment, they were thinking with one mind.
"Let's do this shit."
Then the self-proclaimed Kumonga tensed up and looked back to his mother, expecting her to reprimand him. Instead, the woman simply looked him in the eye and smiled, looking as well pleased as a kitten with a can opener.
"You go do that shit."
=========================
Hisashi Igou liked to think himself largely free of things like petty jealousy. He liked to think himself blessed. He was smart, he was attractive, and he was talented. And this wasn't arrogance speaking. He was in line to be captain of the Karate team, while he was no womanizer, he knew he was popular with the girls, and his test scores spoke for themselves. He lived a blessed life, and because of that he did his best to never try and belittle or insult people for things out of their control, and never under any circumstances envy them for their personal victories.
Thusly, it was with the most heavy heart that he had to admit that he was jealous of Takashi. He didn't like it, and he honestly felt the need to apologize, but a treasonous part of him looked at his best friend's rise over the past few months and couldn't help but be a bit piqued.
It had all started when he'd become a rising star in the new Western Reenactment Club. Before that, Hisashi had been the fighter of the group. He respected him for it, but at the same time, it felt like something of a challenge.
Then his grades started to improve. He knew Takashi was smart but undermotivated. He was very much pleased with this. But at the same time, he couldn't help but notice Takashi was actually beginning to creep up on his grades.
These two, he could almost understand. He somewhat felt like his place in their group was being challenged. But at the same time, he welcomed it. Having a best friend was good and righteous thing. Having a best friend and a rival was a glorious way to fuel the fires of your spirit and drive you to new heights.
It was the last two aspects however that he really couldn't help but get irked by.
First and foremost was what really made him feel those unwanted pangs though was the current situation. Now, he knew that was the most idiotic thing possible to say considering it was the end of the damned world, but he couldn't help it. It was part of being human, even if it was something that he knew to be completely stupid.
He was outright jealous of Takashi and how he'd jumped right into a situation of de facto authority. He was fighting on the line against the undead. He was going on adventures with Brody-sensei. People were making room when he walked past.
Which of course lead him into the second aspect.
He was dating one of the hottest girls in the school and now he had Saya freckin' Takagi giving him love eyes!
He wouldn't even pretend that he didn't like Rei. She was beautiful, intelligent, and kind with a fire to her he couldn't help but admire. Everything a man could desire in a woman. Even when they'd been estranged, he had done as much as he could to respect Takashi's feelings for her, but having seen his friend's distance from her and her resulting distance from him.
And then there was Saya who frankly was intelligent, hotter than hell, and actually shockingly sane. She was basically a statistical impossibility. And she was rich on top of it just to add more improbability to it all.
To be blunt. She was out of his league. She was out of both of their leagues. Hell. She was out of the league of anyone he'd ever met so far that she was like this illustrious goddess standing on a great golden pedestal made out of pure shining 'too good for you' all in an extra fun-sized package.
He couldn't help but grunt in annoyance and exasperation at that last bit. And maybe a bit of resentment. His best friend had two hot girls going after him and here he was, a bachelor.
It was like the world had turned into an anime overnight, and as dumb as it sounded, as much as it irked him, he couldn't help but feel... well... usurped. Like there was this stupid, puerile little voice inside him that couldn't help but say...
I should be the harem protagonist, god damn it!
This really just left him with two paths. First, he could become jealous of his best friend. This was simply unbecoming and unacceptable and would reflect very poorly on him. It would be shameful and he would not allow it.
Second, he could embrace it. If Takashi was fated to be his rival, he would not only accept the challenge but revel in it. He would allow his best friend to become the measure of which he judged himself and try and surpass him. And if he could not surpass him, he would at least force him to give his best so as to never allow himself to become complacent and fall behind again.
And he'd encourage Takashi to do the same. After all, nothing is sadder than watching your rival fall by the wayside, right? It was something that couldn't be permitted!
Oh, and he really needed to get a girlfriend. Can't forget that bit.
"Hey, Hisashi!"
He smiled and looked up to the face of Wakata Kuniyoshi, his senpai and the captain of the team. He was a good guy who, while he was no genius martial artist, he was a hard worker who had learned well from his own struggles and come out of it with a gift for motivating others to do their best and help them learn. His dream was to be the master of his own Dojo someday, and he very much believed in his captain.
"Yes, senpai?"
The older boy didn't answer at first, seeming to gather his thoughts before smiled weakly. "God this is all so fucked up."
Takashi simply nodded. That much was for sure and it's not like he could really add anything to better clarify exactly how fucked up the situation really was.
"Tell me about it." It was all he could really say.
"We need to talk," his captain said after a long pause, his face clearly showing some slight discomfort.
This made Hisashi frown. His fellow student looked very pensive and uncomfortable. "Is something the matter?"
He paused. Stupid question.
"Besides... well... everything else?"
The older teen laughed. "It's not that something is wrong," he said. "More... look. Can I be honest with you, Hisashi?"
Hisashi nodded. "Of course!"
Wakata sighed. "Listen, well, I don't know how to put this, and considering the situation, it might seem like a stupid thing to say but... I want you to take over the club."
If there was anything he was going to say, that was probably the last thing Hisashi expected to hear. Wakata was a good guy and Hisashi was perfectly happy to be his subordinate. He couldn't imagine why he'd want to step down as captain.
"I don't understand," Hisashi replied. "You're a good captain."
"Hisashi," Wakata said after a moment. "I'm a teacher. I like helping others learn, and I at least like to think I'm good at it... but you're a better leader and a better fighter than I am. There's a reason I always ask for your advice. You're better at it than I am, and if we were the same age, you'd already be captain for sure." He took a deep breath. "When this was a school club, giving it my all to make sure that everyone knew their stuff and asking advice was good enough. But this is life and death and the guys... they deserve the best leader, the best fighter, the guy who can inspire them to never stop fighting... and that? It's not me. It's you."
Hisashi didn't know what to say. On one hand, what until the world went mad had been one of his ambitions was offering itself to him. On the other, it hurt to see someone he both respected and admired to be putting himself out like that and saying that he was wanting. But at the same time, he could feel the respect and faith that his senior had for him and it was touching. So very, very deeply touching that he had that much faith in him.
"I... have you talked to the others about this?" he asked. "I mean, I don't want to just spring this on them."
He nodded sadly. "Yeah, and they're with it. We all think this is for the best."
Hisashi closed his eyes and slowly bowed to his senpai. "Very well, I accept this honor."
Wakata couldn't help but smile. "Great, so what now, Captain?"
Hisashi smiled. "Well how about you tell me what you had everyone doing?"
The older boy nodded. "Well right now I told everyone to search containers for useful stuff. We're going to be moving out in a day or so, right? So we only have so much time."
He couldn't help but nod. "Good idea. As I'd expect of my second in command." He grinned. "You're not getting out of this that easily, Wakata."
The other boy smiled wearily. "I can live with that. So what's your plan?"
He looked at the fence. "We're going to need to diversify our skills."
Wakata blinked. "What? How so?"
"Karate's great. I love it, and we're going to teach it to as many people as possible but we're going to need to expand our weapons skills," Hisashi explained. "Hand to hand with zombies is not a good idea."
Wakata nodded. "Good call. Anyone in particular you're thinking?"
"Yeah," he replied after a moment, "Brody-sensei for one."
"You sure?"
He nodded. "Yeah. You saw how his guys fought off that horde. His fighting style is good against large numbers of weak opponents. We need to be able to help out and the more shields they have the better we can protect the others. Otherwise, I'll have to talk to the... well... other club captains."
Wakata smiled, "And make sure to tell them I'll teach anyone who wants to learn."
"Of cour-" he began before being cut off.
"Senpai!"
Both boys turned to look at the onrushing form of Shouta Murata. He was a first-year, a short but diligent student who was very much a late bloomer, which meant that while he was 15, he looked closer to 12. Or as some of the more ignorant members of the student body would say, stick him in a dress and he'd make a cute girl.
"Yes?" Hisashi asked.
He looked over to Hisashi and then glanced to Wakata, who then turned to his and nodded to Hisashi.
Shouta nodded in understanding and took a deep breath. "We found something. You need to see this."
Hisashi nodded to him. "Alright, lead the way"
He was quickly directed to a storage container that had already begun to gather a crowd.
"Settle down and let the captain though!" Wakata announced in his best "Do as I say" voice.
And it was a strong voice at that, which did a good job of getting everyone to calm down and step to the side.
Inside the container, he saw a large number of boxes of all kinds and of all sizes. Though he did notice one thing off the top of his head. A predominant number of them were wide, tall, and flat.
The team seemed to be gathered around an open box and were looking at something. And every one of them was smiling.
"Alright guys," he said, doing his best to project authority and control. "What do you have for me?"
Yuudai, one of the seniors just grinned at him and passed him what looked to be a brochure. "See for yourself, captain."
Hisashi did so and what he saw on the front of it made his eyes go wide.
Akatsuki Solar.
His eyes immediately went to the contents of the container as his jaw went just a little bit slack. Dozens of boxes, flat and wide. Many of which were taller than he was. The intensity of the realization of what he was looking at was very much like being struck in the face with a fresh fish.
Needless to say, their smiles were infectious.
"Good job, guys," he said, not knowing what else to say. "Good job guys."
----------------------
Some people would claim that Yusuke Sawanara was a demon. Others said he was a bear of a man. Personally, the self-proclaimed Onikumo liked to think he was both.
He'd always been from the rough side of town. He'd seen both his first robbery and stabbing before he entered grade school, and participated in both by the time he was in middle school. He was not a nice person, he'd admit that.
Didn't hurt that he was huge. Some guys hit puberty. Puberty hit him. He was taller than any of his teachers at twelve and started shaving at age thirteen. He was just one of those guys who had a natural gift for violence. The kind who were big and capable of breaking a man with the ease most people took a shit. He wasn't born looking for a life of crime, just, well, he was always just the biggest and the strongest guy around.
And in a world where weakness is death and the strong take what they want, of course he was going to leverage the one thing he had going for him. It's not like his grades were worth a goddamn and he sure as hell wasn't going to get by on his looks.
Strange how things turn out, really. A year ago he was the number one punk in town. Now he was a zombie hunting Viking. Shit's stranger than Anime.
But was the last part that had got him thinking. There was this nerd girl from the rich kids school giving him love eyes or some shit. She was short and built like a rail. Pale as a ghost and with these dark bags under her eyes. If she looked any more fucked up like that he'd be wondering if she didn't belong on the other side of the fence.
Still, a girl was a girl, and he wasn't the picky type.
"Like what you see, girl?"
He smirked and pulled up his shirt sleeve to show off a bicep that was probably wider around than her torso.
She flushed somewhat, going wide-eyed at the display, bringing a smile to the bears-ogre's face.
"No," she replied, catching herself, "I saw you pulling the seats out of that van."
He nodded. Yeah. They'd managed to nab a couple vehicles from outside the gate, and had just finished ripping the seats out. He wasn't going to say much about the smell, but it was sure as shit better than hoofing it.
"What of it?" he asked.
"I was thinking," she replied. "About that one..."
She pointed to the largest, and frankly, the creepiest of the lot. A minibus that looked like goddamned Pikachu.
He couldn't help but shudder.
Now that one had been the stuff of pure goddamned nightmares.
"You okay?"
He stood up ramrod straight.
He grunted with embarrassment. "Yeah, I'm fine..."
She frowned slightly. "We could use more of those."
He grimaced at the very thought of it.
So many little eyes...
But at the same time, she was right.
"What are you thinking?" he asked, "Cruise around the city and look for busses full of zombie first-graders?"
She flinched and shook her head. "No, nothing like that... it's just... well... they have to come from somewhere? Right?"
His eyes went wide and he smiled. Most people said it was a terrifying sight, but she seemed to be unshaken by it.
Good on you, girly.
"You skinny little genius!" he barked jumping to his feet.
She blinked in confusion. "What?"
Without even saying a word, he put his hands around her waist, completely covering it, and lifted her into the air as if she was weightless, then plopped the crimson, petrified girl onto his shoulder as if she were a humanoid parrot.
"Come on girly." he barked, "Let's you and I go talk to some nerds about finding us a bus depot to loot!"
----------------------------------
As Souichiro Takagi watched Brody's vehicle vanish into the distance he could not help but be beset by both fear and doubt. He'd never admit such things, but it was the honest reality of it for a multitude of reasons.
First, there was the issue of pride. It somewhat stung for him to effectively pass on initiative, and with it, the effective torch of leadership to the strange gaijin. His own followers would deny he'd done such a thing, but he knew the truth. In the end, a leader had to lead. He made the decisions and right now, he was deferring to another. And as much as it pained him to even admit to himself, the man was likely to continue to do so.
For Souichiro was a man out of his element. He knew how to keep his people alive, he'd planned for all sorts of emergencies. But even with his wife's invaluable aid, he had no idea how to manage this and the time it would take them to come to terms with it. And in times like this, a moment wasted was a life lost.
Thomas Brody, on the other hand, had had an entire year to come to terms. To plan and to prepare. He had the gift of foresight and that was a tool that could not be understated. If a moment wasted was a life lost, then his year of dutiful preparation had saved the lives of thousands.
His own included. And most importantly, that of his dearest Yuriko. For that alone, he would have been willing to swear a life's debt to the man.
He'd have to come to terms with the reality. By the time Brody's preparations reached their fruition, attempting to seize control politically would be unbecoming, and attempting to do so via force would be an unforgivable act he could not even entertain. His ancestors would turn their backs on him for even imagining such a shameful display.
But despite all of this, as he watched the vehicle retreat, he could not help but feel his heart become burdened with terror. For inside it was the most precious of his treasures. The only thing he'd sacrifice all others for.
He only hoped the man would comprehend the sheer enormity of trust shown by granting him custody of his precious Saya.
There was a small shuffle of movement next to him, and he glanced down to see his wife standing next to him.
Without a word, his eyes turned back to the street, but his hand reached out and grasped hers. And then his heart was lifted and he was filled with fresh confidence. They would survive this. They would thrive. The fires of the Japanese spirit would never be extinguished.
"Hey, Takagi-dude..."
His teeth clenched with enough force that he could hear the enamel creak as the scent of cannabis smoke cursed his nostrils with its pungent presence.
Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, and failing, his did his best to still the flames of his burning blood and deal with this... situation properly.
Removing his hand from his wife's grasp, he slowly turned around, his eyes all but blazing in their sockets.
Standing before him one of Brody's delinquents. Obviously one of the ones who, despite the teacher's best efforts, had failed to awaken his true warrior spirit and instead had grown dependent on drugs to make up for his inadequacies as a man. He was standing before him, eyes bloodshot, and his face twisted into the stupid smile of someone who was possessed of only half their wits but believed they'd just come to the most profound realization in the history of man.
"What," he stated with the finality of the grave.
"I've been thinkin', Takagi-dude," he said with a wide, earnest smile as he was left completely oblivious to Souichiro's fury.
"What," he repeated, doing his best to keep his blood pressure under control as he could feel the veins in his neck begin to pulsate under the force.
"We really ought to... you know go nab my cousin's grow op," he said with complete irreverence. "It's like... huge."
It took him a moment to realize what the... absolute raging moron... before him had said before he could fully process it. He'd actually had to think about it twice, each time his anger doubled upon itself. Was this drug-addled twit seriously suggesting that he, the head of the local Ultra-nationalist organization? A man who had repeated crusaded against the evils of drug use... aid him in retrieving something so honorless and debased?
I was almost enough to push him beyond the limits of his rationality. Almost. But almost was still more than most.
It was only his wife's hand on his shoulders that had kept him from ordering some sort of punishment for the boy. It was really all he could do to keep from throttling him.
But what he heard next was what really sent his mind reeling.
"That is a brilliant suggestion." his wife stated with absolute earnestly.
For the second time in as many minutes, his mind lurched as it was violently wrenched from its train of thought.
He knew Yuriko was absolutely not one to entertain fools. So why would she seriously suggest that they do something so insanely stupid?
His questioning eyes met hers, and she simply said one sentence.
"Hemp is a very useful plant," she stated.
The fires of his soul quickly quieted. Of course. Cannabis was the hemp plant. Yes. He could absolutely see how that would be useful. But for his wife to say something was very useful, it had to have much more going for it than making rope.
He'd asked her to outline it when they had a moment. Until then, he'd allow her to handle it, something which she agreed upon with an unspoken nod.
"Very well," he said, as he doused the flames of his spirit. "My wife will handle this."
The young man smiled. "Righto!"
"And never call me 'Takagi-dude' again"
"Um...righto…?"