Kasumigaoka Utaha didn't pay much mind to the "hissing kitten" before her, but her internal agitation was clear. She stood with her arms crossed, her fingers tapping rhythmically against her elbow, while her uniform shoes clicked restlessly against the pavement beneath her bck tights.

  "The fence isn't actually that high," a girl nearby remarked casually, sounding far more composed than a high school girl should in this situation. "We could just climb over it when the time comes."

  Utaha and Sawamura Eriri both turned to look. Standing there was a girl who was undeniably cute, though in an understated way. She was average height with fine features, a well-proportioned figure, and striking white legs visible above her crew socks.

  Utaha looked up at the nearly three-meter-high fence and sighed. "It's a possibility. Though Eriri would likely never make it over."

  "You!" Eriri snapped, but her retort was cut short as she noticed the suffocating tension in the crowd around them begin to shift. People had overheard their conversation and were slowly moving toward the edges of the court.

  "..."

  "..."

  "By the way," Utaha asked, turning to the girl. "What was your name again?"

  "Oh? Me? I'm Katou Megumi."

  "Katou..." Utaha felt a flicker of recognition, but she couldn't quite pce it. "Have we met somewhere before?"

  "I don't think someone like me would be an acquaintance of a school celebrity," Meguri said with a hint of self-deprecation.

  "No, I'm sure I've seen you..." As the top student of her year, Utaha trusted her memory.

  "Well... I suppose I have been following you since we left the building."

  "!" Utaha was startled. "You've been following me this whole time?"

  "Yes. You seemed to be leading everyone quite intelligently, Senpai. But then the auditorium was locked, and I ended up following you here."

  "...I see." Utaha was genuinely surprised she hadn't noticed the girl at all.

  "So, what do we do now, Kasumigaoka-senpai?" Katou asked. Her voice sounded questioning, but her face remained entirely expressionless.

  "I..." Utaha checked the time on her phone. Her expression softened instantly, a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks. "Someone is coming to get me. We just have to wait a little longer."

  "Ha? Who's coming to get you? We're literally locked in a cage!" Eriri interjected, unable to stay quiet.

  "And what about you, Eriri? Are your parents coming?"

  "My parents' phones aren't going through," Katou added, her casual observation effectively ending the argument. The silence that followed was heavy.

  Outside the fence, the zombies finished devouring the fallen students. The dead rose again, joining the ranks of the monsters with staggering, limping gaits. The horde began to press against the tennis court fence, drawn by the movement of the living inside. They cwed at the wire, their twisted faces pressed against the mesh. The smell of copper and rot was nauseating.

  "What do we do?"

  "It's terrifying!"

  "We're safe as long as they stay out, right?"

  "How do we get out of here?!"

  "Sensei, help us!"

  Inside and outside the fence, chaos reigned.

  "It's alright! They can't get in!" the teachers shouted, trying to maintain order. But the fence rattled and groaned under the weight of the monsters, looking as if it might colpse at any moment. Fortunately, a chain-link fence was sturdier than a dozen zombies could manage.

  Suddenly, a roar echoed across the campus. A red streak tore around the corner of the building—a crimson fme of a car that looked like a knight's mount. The engine's scream didn't distract the zombies at the fence, but a new trail of monsters followed in the wake of the car.

  "Look at that!" The students stared in shock. Where did a car like that come from?

  The car drifted in a wide arc across the field and screeched to a halt near a patch of fresh blood. A man with messy, "bed-head" hair stepped out of the driver's side. The zombies following the car immediately lunged for him, the fastest ones leading the charge.

  He's dead, the crowd thought.

  The man reached down and snatched a blood-stained baseball bat from the pavement, gripping it with both hands.

  CRACK. CRACK.

  With the casual grace of a pro-league slugger, he swung. Every hit found its mark.

  CRACK. CRACK.

  The people behind the fence watched the scene through the gaps in the zombies, mesmerized.

  CRACK. CRACK.

  He casually brushed his long bangs back with one hand, exposing his forehead, and used the other to swing the bat into another monster's skull. It was a violent, bloody dispy, yet there was a rhythmic, coordinated beauty to his movements.

  He stepped over the st twitching body, ignoring the cwing hands of a fallen zombie, and raised the bat high for a final execution. The sound of the impact was sharp and final.

  "No way..." someone whispered.

  "Who is that guy?"

  "Is he here for us?"

  "Wait, he's coming this way!"

  Kagehiro Shiro walked toward the crowded tennis court. As he got closer, the students could see his face clearly. He was young, but his long hair—shading half his face—gave him a gloomy, almost decadent appearance. He rotated the bat, loosening his wrist, and held it in a high "Shindo Munen-ryu" stance.

  The boys inside the fence swallowed hard as Shiro approached the zombies still pressed against the wire. He swung with calcuted precision, driving the leftmost monster into the dirt. The sound of the impact was heavy—a testament to his raw power.

  The other zombies turned their milky eyes toward him, looking almost confused. Before they could react, Shiro was upon them. He dispatched them with the orderly efficiency of a chef prepping vegetables. One by one, the monsters fell. Any that tried to lunge were swatted aside with ease.

  The silence of the crowd broke into a roar of excitement and disbelief.

  "Amazing!"

  "Who the hell is he?"

  "We're saved!"

  "He's... he's actually really cool!"

  Once the st monster was still, Shiro leaned on his bat. "Is Kasumigaoka Utaha here?" His voice was clear—a mix of youthful mencholy and mature steadiness.

  "I'm here," Utaha said, stepping through the crowd.

  "Ah. I've come to take you home."

  "You're safe! You got here so fast," Utaha said, a brilliant smile lighting up her face—a look so radiant it left the onlookers dazed.

  "It was no trouble," Shiro replied. He looked fine, but if anyone looked at Shizuka-sensei's Aston Martin, they would see the front end was mangled. The headlights were shattered, and the hood was dented. He had tried his best to avoid direct head-on collisions to protect the engine, but the blood and gristle on the chassis told the story of his journey.

  "Wait there, I'm coming in," Shiro said.

  The students had been keeping their distance from the fence where the zombies were, leaving a small patch of empty ground. Utaha stood there alone. Shiro tossed the bat aside, took a few steps back, and broke into a sprint.

  With the agility of a panther, he leaped. His hand caught the top of the fence, and with a powerful heave, he vaulted over, his school uniform fluttering in the wind. As he nded, his bangs shifted, revealing a sharp, handsome face that left several of the girls in the front row breathless.

  He nded in a crouch, stabilized himself, and stood up. "Sorry I'm te."

  "You aren't," Utaha said, her smile growing even wider. Standing there in the spring breeze, she looked as beautiful as a poem.

  "Hey! You aren't a student of Toyogasaki, are you?" Ishikawa-sensei called out from his high chair.

  Shiro looked up at the man. "Hello. I'm a friend of Kasumigaoka Utaha. I'm here to take her with me."

  "A friend? Kasumigaoka, is this true?" Ishikawa asked, his voice dripping with suspicion.

  "Yes, Ishikawa-sensei. This is a very dear friend of mine—and a fellow author," Utaha announced, her tone filled with a pride she wanted the whole school to hear.

  "Wait... an author, like her?" the students whispered. Everyone knew Utaha had debuted as a novelist, and though they didn't know the details, her genius was undisputed. Her cssmates knew it best; she was the one who could sleep through every lecture and still rank first in the year.

  Ishikawa frowned. "I won't allow the gate to be opened. There are monsters out there. Who knows what dangers you'll let in?"

  "Yeah, Ishikawa-sensei is right..."

  "There are bodies everywhere."

  "We shouldn't open it."

  "But how do we get out eventually?"

  Shiro didn't care. "It's fine. We'll just climb back out."

  Ishikawa grumbled but fell silent.

  "Shiro-sensei! You actually came!" A voice shouted from the crowd as a boy pushed his way to the front.

  "Ah, Aki-kun. Good to see you're still alive," Shiro said, recognizing the "Otaku" from the signing event.

  "I can't believe it! The zombies were terrifying, but meeting you here... I'm so lucky! And I had no idea Shiro-sensei was so strong! You're an author, but your reflexes are insane! You've completely shattered my image of what a writer looks like. Did you study martial arts or something?!" Aki's fanboy energy was at full throttle.

  Shiro gave the boy a friendly pat. "Haha. Something like that. I'm a master of Shindo Munen-ryu."

  It was a lie, of course. If he started talking about "cutting paper" or "scroll rankings," they wouldn't understand. "Master" was a bel they'd recognize—the mark of a true swordsman.

  ***********************************************

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