Hello Highschool of the Dead archive :)

So this is my first attempt at a HSotD ficlet. I suppose one might call this a testing of the waters for me. I just started watching HSotD, and I absolutely love Saeko's character. I wanted to write a little something for her, and what we have here is somewhat of a retelling of that fateful night, four years into her past.

I must warn, I've only watched the anime, so if I've made an error of details here, I do apologize :)

Anyways, without further adieu, I don't own Highschool of the Dead ;)

Blood on Her Face

Saeko Busujima seemed to glide across the sidewalk as she made her way home from her father's Kendo studio. Alone as always, no friends at her sides, no boyfriend on her mind; just her, and her most beloved and greatest friend; her bokken.

Ever since he had placed a sword in her young hands, Master Busujima was endlessly proud of his little girl. Not a day came to pass that he had to force her to practice her craft; she loved learning, and she loved the art he passed down to her. Every day she pushed herself harder. By the time she was a mere thirteen years old, she possessed the skill and strength of a man nearly twice her age. When tryouts were held for the School's Kendo team, it came as no surprise to anyone that Master Busujima's one and only daughter would be named captain, and in her freshman year no less.

Every day she poured her knowledge into her teammates, instructing them precisely where and how to strike. Not one of her teammates could ever keep from flinching as her bokken crashed into the practice dummy. While they held her in the highest respect, her teammates all grew to fear her power. Even the seniors that hated her for usurping the highest position on the team never dared question her. Of course nothing ever came of their fears, and within her first year as head of the team, they hadn't lost a single tournament.

She should have been proud of herself. She should have felt more than a modicum of satisfaction at her accomplishments. Yet no matter how many tournaments she won, no matter how her teammates praised her prowess, not even the numerous obliterated practice dummies in her wake seemed to fill the void in Saeko's heart.

She longed for more than her practice, or some mere tournament could give her. She needed another way to further her craft, to take her skill to a higher level.

Every night she made the long walk home from her father's studio, and every night she searched for that which might bring her what she so desired. On this cold and still night, her wish finally came true.

She'd heard the footsteps before, but never had they grown so close so fast. Her heart should have raced with fear and anxiety; yet she remained unfailingly calm as she traversed the vacant sidewalk. There was no one around her, no one that might help her if she screamed; no one and nothing that could protect her save for her beloved wooden sword.

The footsteps had gotten so close to her, she could practically feel her pursuer's breath on her purple hair, and suddenly, she felt something spark within her. The corner of her lips perked up ever so slightly into a pointed smile, and it began. The man behind her finally made his presence known, pushing her up against a wall. Whether he noticed the sheathed weapon or not, he was intoxicated by how close he was to his prize.

Every night he watched her. Every night he made it a point to catch just a whiff of her wake, and now; he would finally have her.

Saeko turned her back to the wall to face him, wearing a look of immense fear on her face. If he only knew the surreal pleasure she took from the transformation he had invoked in her. She let out a weak whimper, inciting him further as his hands groped her slender, yet curvaceous body. He buried his face in the nape of her neck, his lips and tongue leaving a trail of saliva on her exposed flesh. With his eyes closed in supreme enjoyment of her taste, he couldn't see the smile on her lips. He couldn't see the bloodlust in her eyes, as she continued to whimper in would-be fear.

He paid no attention as her fingers tightly gripped her bokken.

In a motion almost too quick to behold, she pushed him away and unsheathed her practice weapon. Before her attacker could even register the image of the young girl before him, she raised the wooden blade above her head as she had thousands of times before. She caught a glimmer of terror on his face as her wooden friend came crashing down onto his shoulder blade with enough force to destroy a practice dummy. He immediately reached to his shoulder, though he should have dropped to his knees.

She whipped the wooden blade across his jaw, bringing his blood to spray across her smiling face, before taking one more swing. The curved wooden blade crashed into his thigh, shattering the bone within it, and finally bringing him to fall to the ground.

As he knelt before her, her attacker cried out in pain like she'd never heard, and she loved every second of it. She loved the warmth of his blood on her face, loved the sight of him as he cowered in the pain she had caused him. Never before had she felt such satisfaction, such raw and primal pleasure, as she stood victorious over him.

She wanted him to get up. She wanted him to put his hands on her again. She wanted just one more reason to exact her strength on him just one more time.

And that's that. If you made it this far, I hope you enjoyed it :)

I really want to write a longer, more in-depth HSotD fic, but I need a place to jump from. I've sorted out my pairings, I just need to find that perfect moment to springboard an idea.

Thanks very much for reading,
-jm