Hey fans! Now, before you say anything- YES! Of course Psycho of the Dead will be updated soon. In about a week, in fact! In the meantime, enjoy the new HOTD series! As for POTD(originally I thought there would be 3 more chaps left, now I'm thinking more like 13 more chapters left, maybe even more. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the story of Ichiro Watanabe! My love for HOTD will NEVER die!)

As a side note, my commissions are open :)

Prologue: Enter the Dead

I snuck out the night before the world came to an end.

Trying to sleep was pointless, after all. Whenever I closed my eyes, I could practically hear my father smack my mom around. The persistent thought 'I should be home with her. Protecting her' was a thought I simply could not get out of my head. But even if I was home, I was powerless to stop it. I'd tried once. Even now, years later, I can still feel the phantom pain of dad's fists and belt on my body and hear the cries of my mother as she threw herself in front of me begging my father to "punish her instead." Funny that I had been the one trying to protect her and yet she was the one who ended up saving me... and she was beaten worse than ever.

I learned a lesson that day. Being a man, protecting others? Trying to do so is pointless if you're weak. Seeing my usually quiet and broken mom beg for me...it changed everything. I was disturbed by my own weakness, I was determined to change. To save her. I had to be stronger.

When I was sent away to dorm at Fujimi Academy, I started picking fights with everyone. Not to become stronger, necessarily, but because I had issues. I won't pretend that my behavior growing up was righteous or worth it in the end. I hurt a lot of people, including myself. At some point, my teachers tried to direct my anger and desire to "become a man" in a healthy direction. Joined the karate club for a while, was pretty good at it. Don't really know what happened after that. I guess being a good kid, following the rules, got pretty fucking boring.

The night before They came, I was exhausted. Tired of schoolwork, tired of trying to socialize and my bad reputation, and tired of being a terrible son.
So I snuck out as I had countless times before. I made sure no adults were in the hallway, and slipped out the way I had countless times. A few moments later I escaped into the night. I met up with the other guys, all crowded in the usual hangout (a narrow area between two buildings we'd found, it was practically an alley). We were not a normal group of friends. We were a bunch of thugs with shitty reputations at Fujimi, but we were not quite the "gang" that people tried to make us out to be. We were just a bunch of troublemaking losers who hung out at night. Never hurt anyone, really.

I was surprised. One of the guys had beer, he handed me one and I sat back and cracked it open.

The night air was soon swollen with our complaints about... everything and the smoke from our cigarettes made wispy tendrils in the air. We bitched about school and teachers, about girls and household rules. I used to be quiet and not voice my opinion about anything. I was fine just being there, but around the time I started smoking I also started opening up.

The night before They came, the night before the world became a living hell, I remember saying out loud, "I wish I didn't have to deal with any of this shit anymore. Wish it'd all just fucking end." The guys all laughed at that and nodded.

"I'll drink to that," my friend Jun chuckled, as he shattered his beer bottle against the wall of the alley. If he'd drink to that, why was he smashing the bottle? I wondered that, but didn't say anything. He was always very dramatic. He yawned in an exaggerated way and stretched. "Gonna head home."

After that, the other guys started disappearing one by one. We had to be ready for class in the morning, etcetera. Couldn't afford to be out at night. Everyone slinked off, until it was just my friend Fujimaro and I. He wasn't very talkative and neither was I so we both enjoyed the silence and basked in our mutual agreement that the world sucked.

Maybe someone heard my wish. "Be careful what you wish for", isn't that how the saying goes?

It's a bit too late for that. I had thought my life was hell, but I had no idea. No idea at all.

This was not the first time some random asshole attacked me on the roof of the school, but it was the first time they had such a dumb reason for doing so. Tsunoda(the bleach blond idiot in front of me) challenged me to a fight because I had apparently "looked at his girl in a bad way." His girl being my classmate Yuuki Miku. Apparently smiling at a girl and talking to her about classwork is hitting on her. According to this scumbag, anyways. I didn't blame him for being paranoid about his crush, truth be told. Yuuki Miku was known to be quite the perverted slut. I just don't see the sense in fighting people over a girl who isn't even his girlfriend, who spreads her legs for every guy under the sun.

"You damn bastard!" Tsunoda roared as he slammed into me, specifically my stomach. He headbutted me full force and I grimaced as pain erupted in the spot he hit. I clenched my teeth and wrapped my arms around his head. I tried to force him away but the muscular, sweaty boy clung to me around the waist. He was pushing me backward. I tried again to shake him off, wrestling with him, but Tsunoda was just too strong.

I had hoped to disengage and get away without anyone getting hurt, but it seemed I had no choice now. He wanted a fight and he would get one...With as much strength as I could muster, I slammed my knee upward. It connected with something. A pig-like squeal filled my ears, making the blood pump faster in my veins. Surprisingly, the ugly bastard didn't drop to his knees as I'd hoped but his grip on me did loosen.

Now's my chance!

I shoved my attacker backward. I could have walked away at that point, but the blood rushing through my head and my racing heart demanded I do more than "walk away." When he brought me up here, Tsunoda planned to beat me for no good reason. Maybe he would've just punched me, but his headbutt to the gut made it seem that he planned to do more than that. He deserved to suffer. He deserved what I was gonna do to him.

Excitement and bloodlust rushed through me as I dashed forward and tackled the stumbling bastard to the ground. I brought my fist back, again and again, grinning in satisfaction when cartilage crunched beneath my knuckles and blood exploded from somewhere. The boy's face seemed to cave beneath my blows and he blabbed and begged for mercy.

In the distance, or what sounded like it, I could hear cheers. I couldn't bring myself to look and see if I was right or imagining them. I was too lost in the spray of blood.

"Tell me you're sorry, and I'll stop," I snarled, gazing down at the face of the squirming boy beneath me. At first, it seemed like he was going to be stubborn and refuse to, but much to my disappointment, he gave in immediately. When he screamed "I'm sorry," I pulled away.

I panted heavily. The sight of his smashed face was deeply satisfying to me, my fists were completely coated in deep, red blood. I stood up and brushed off my uniform. Blood smeared on my blue undershirt. My hands were a little sore from dishing out such a harsh beating but it was clear my victim was in a lot more pain.

I kicked his side for good measure, enjoying Tsunoda's deeply pained groan. When I raised my foot back a second kick, something slammed into me from the side. Hard. I hadn't expected it so I hit the ground, my head knocking against the cement. Confusion riddled my brain and for a moment I was paralyzed. I was knocked out of my dazed mental state when a fist collided with my mouth, blood spilling from my now sore lips. I managed to duck my head, hiding my face from the next punch but his fist still hit my skull. It hurt both of us bad and for a moment I saw stars.

"Ah shit, my knuckles," the guy who punched me whined. My head throbbed with pain and everything seemed strangely foggy... Damn this bastard, whoever he is, he hits hard. The next punch made my vision go black. I tried to push away and against the force holding me down but it was futile. Whoever this fucker was, he was just too heavy. This was over. It was dumb of me to think Tsunoda would ever play fair. He'd acted like it'd be just the two of us, but now there were at least two other guys attacking me.

I'm not dumb. I know when to throw the towel in. What I had to do now was minimize the damage to my body. A teacher was probably already on the way, it was a matter of holding out for rescue. I shielded my face with my one free arm. Drawing any possible attention from my groin by acting as if my face was what I was worried about. It worked. Peeved, one of Tsunoda 's thugs ripped my arm away and proceeded to throw a punch.

My vision went black and blurry. Blinking blearily, I gazed up at my ugly attackers. They were all sweaty and visibly angry. For what felt like forever, all I knew was pain. Blow after blow hit my face and my gut, and despite my efforts, a few hit my groin too. Thankfully, the abuse wasn't too bad. The bastards hit hard but didn't seem to aim for any vital points. I knew it was over when the onslaught of pain finally ended.

I opened my eyes, blood pouring from my nose and mouth and various other wounds on my face. I hurt all over but I'd been through a lot worse. Panting heavily through broken lips, I let my entire body slump. Oddly enough, I couldn't help but notice how beautiful the blurry sky looked… I reached for it, chuckling softly. The sun streamed through my fingertips.

My fingers were coated in blood. Tsunoda's blood. It was oddly satisfying. The sunlight made the red moisture glisten eerily and I smiled slightly at the sight...

"Hey! Let me go bastard!" A demanding voice stole my attention. I watched through battered eyes as a couple of teachers pulled the attacking boys away from me. Now that I could actually look at them, I realized I was right. They were Tsunoda's lackeys. Once they saw I'd beaten Tsunoda fair and square they had to cheat. Or maybe they just didn't want to see their friend hurt. Either way, I was pissed but in no condition to do anything about it.

"Again, Watanabe-san?" A familiar voice murmured and a pretty, worried face appeared above mine. I cursed my terrible luck, embarrassment rushing through me. Of course, it would be Kyoko Hayashi, the one person whose opinion of me I cared about, who found me in this position. She was friends with my mother so she would definitely find out and I'd come home to her ranting and raving about what a "bad son" I was and how "I'm lucky my dad didn't find out."

Despite seeming worried, she also seemed quite angry. That made sense. She was my teacher afterall. "You told me this wouldn't happen again." Staring up into her worried eyes, I felt like crap for disappointing her again. But that's all I ever do. Disappoint.

I sat up and stiffly got to my feet, resisting the urge to groan in pain. "Don't look at me like that, I didn't start this shit. Tsunoda-san started this," I grumbled.. Hayashi-sensei poked me hard in the chest and I winced. It was bruised there...

"You didn't have to finish it! Look at that poor boy, look what you did to him. You did as much damage to him alone as three did to you. You and I both know you went overboard." Panting heavily, still in pain, I glanced in Tsunoda's direction. Some teachers were helping him stand. I guess I had wailed on him a bit harder than I'd thought. Crimson was streaming from his nose down his chin. His eyes were black and swollen. He didn't deserve that much of a beating, but sometimes my anger gets the best of me.

I sighed.

"I'm glad you understand, Watanabe-san. I'll be taking you to my office and we'll be having a nice, long discussion while we wait for Marikawa-sensei to finish with Tsunoda-san and his friends."

So Hayashi-sensei didn't want me to be in the nurse's office with the other boys? I suppose that made sense. I wished I could have treatment first, but I wasn't going to complain out loud. I didn't argue with or question her, just waited for her to lead the way. Seeing I was being obedient, Hayashi-sensei smiled and started stalking away. I trudged behind her, my steps unsteady.

My groin ached something fierce and my face felt like it'd been hit by a battering ram...repeatedly. I had been right. At some point, a crowd of other students had gathered to watch Tsunoda and I brawl. Now that I was caught I was no longer a source of entertainment to them, so they stared at me with disgust as I passed. Another teacher was attempting to get them to disperse, but they were not listening to him at all.

Despite the consequences I'd soon be facing, I could not bring myself to regret this. I had beaten Tsunoda. I was stronger than him. Although now, for sure, I was going to be suspended. Dad would definitely find out this time.

"You can't keep pulling this crap," Hayashi-sensei muttered, shaking her head and rubbing at her temples. Her heels clicked noisily on the hallway floor. Apparently, she had a migraine from all this commotion. My head hurt too but unlike me, she hadn't been kicked or punched in the skull as of late. She didn't have the right to complain. Not that I'd say that out loud.

My father always said, "When dealing with women it's better to shut up ninety percent of the time. The other ten percent of the time you should just smile and pretend you agree with them." He was a piece of human garbage, but he was right about this. My experiences with girls in the past were a testament to that. Women did not like it when you argued with them, no matter how logical your argument.

So instead of saying anything, I silently appreciated how Hayashi-sensei let me use her for support. I especially enjoyed the view I got of her cleavage whenever I looked to the left. Her huge boobs were practically popping out of her top. I wet my lips. Kyoko Hayashi's breasts had entered my fantasies more times than I can count, and her habit of wearing low cut tops in school did not help that.

While I was lost in thought, we reached her office. Technically it was an office for all the P.E teachers and a place where students were brought whenever our P.E assignments could not be done outside. Tests, written work, etcetera.

A wall of windows sat behind the desks, and I could smell a potted plant somewhere nearby. It was crisp and cool, the air conditioner constantly blowing gentle, cold gusts of air into the room.

I sat down in one of the chairs and crossed my arms. I stared at Hayashi-sensei, wishing her beautiful face was wearing a smile right now and not an anxiety-riddled frown. She huffed, tucking a strand of her red hair behind her ear, sniffing pompously.

"You realize how this looks, correct? No one is sticking up for you among the spectating students. The opposite, in fact. When I asked what happened a lot of them claimed you attacked Tsunoda-san in a fit of sudden rage." I snorted, unable to restrain a fit of laughter. Hayashi-Sensei's face grew taut with aggravation so I forced my laughter back into my chest, settling on a mocking smile instead.

Hayashi-sensei glared at me but continued her lecture. "Normally claims like "Student A got mad and attacked Student B randomly" would be thoroughly investigated...but you have a history and despite having a snotty attitude, Tsunoda Senzo has a good record. A clean one. As for his friends, their records are just as clean. But yours…"

I didn't know what she wanted me to say. So I just said nothing. Of course, I knew how it looked. Appearance alone made me a target for other's suspicions. I've been told countless times that I look like a thug. That I look like a troublemaker, teachers made sure to point that out daily. Namely my wild dark hair, my unkempt uniform. They liked to tell me "You need to relax more, you always look angry and unfriendly. You should smile more often."

I didn't choose to look unapproachable, but I can't change that. I've gotten used to the fact that girls are often scared of me, and guys always assume I want to start shit with them. No wonder Tsunoda's thug friends lied and claimed I started stuff. It was an easy thing to believe.

I've never even had a girlfriend before, not that I was interested in anyone but Hayashi-sensei, and she was not a person I would ever confess my feelings to. Afterall, she was my teacher, and nearly double my age. I didn't have a chance, and it wasn't exactly appropriate.

And if I told Hayashi-sensei how I felt I'm sure she'd get uncomfortable. She'd stop being the only person to defend me, she'd stop being there for me. I couldn't afford that.

The constant pain in my body and my negative train of thoughts forced me into a toxic mood. I shook my head with a scowl, "Whatever. Hopefully, I will get suspended so I don't have to deal with this shit anymore. Not having to go to school sounds like a damn blessing."

Hayashi-sensei sat down in a chair directly across from me. I swallowed as she crossed her arms, her eyes full of anger. Heat spread across my cheeks and I wondered if I should look away. When she crossed her arms like that her boobs were all propped up, her deep cleavage visible...and when I looked down I could see her panties. They were black, lacy. Mature. I blushed and forced my gaze away.

"Suspended? Enough of that talk, brat," Hayashi-sensei muttered softly. Apparently, she didn't notice where I was looking, or she didn't care. Her words stole my interest, anyway. No way...she was going to cover for my sorry ass again? Her next words confirmed that. "You're not getting suspended anytime soon. I'll talk to the principal."

"And what about when Tsunoda's parents demand it?" I clenched my fists. How many times had Hayashi-sensei saved me from suspension? Saved me from getting kicked out. Getting me detentions instead of the punishment I really deserved.

"We'll take it by the day. Ichiro-kun." My heart thumped in my chest. She had switched to my first name. It made my heart warm. Memories of her coming into my family's apartment and putting a halt to the constant stream of abuse by just smiling at me and calling me 'Ichiro-kun' instead of brat or 'boy' flooded into my brain. Coupled with the sight of her breasts, and her panties, my heart threatened to break out of my chest.

"But, Hayashi-sensei…"

"You can call me Kyoko-chan when it's just the two of us, Ichiro-kun." My face felt like it was burning up.

I exhaled heavily, trembling under her powerful gaze. Was she doing this on purpose? "K-Kyoko-chan, then..." The lack of formality and such affection when referring to her was almost too much to bear. "Err, Kyoko-sensei," I managed, and she smiled a little, "You can't keep saving my sorry ass..."

"Make no mistake, I like to help you Ichiro-kun. Whenever I can. But I need you to look at me and tell me one thing." I hesitated but decided I'd meet her gaze. "Complete honesty." I nodded.

I knew what her question was going to be. The same question she asked me last time I got into a fight.

"Did you lose control when you hit that boy?"

Yes. I had. I should have walked away when I shoved him off. But I couldn't. I'd been too angry. I didn't want to tell her that. Whenever I mentioned my strange angry compulsions Hayashi-sensei got that sad look on her face that she usually only wore when she was talking to my mom about my father. In other words, she saw my father in me.

"Yes," I mumbled, sticking my bloody hands out and gazing at them. I remembered the strange joy I'd felt when I'd pulled my fists away and saw the sorry state Tsunoda was in. How beautiful the sky had looked, how satisfied I'd been. Like an animal that's been starved and finally had a big meal. It'd been a while since I'd had my last fight, afterall.

Hayashi-sensei nodded solemnly. "I thought so. You are not going to get suspended. And your father will not find out about this." Relief flooded my chest. She killed it abruptly. "But in return, I want you to see a therapist. I'll talk to your mother about it, I'll tell her...about your anger...and we can go from there."

"No." I stood, shaking my head. "No way, Hayashi-sensei. My mother can never find out that I'm like my father in any way. I'd rather her believe I'm just a terrible son that starts fights because of stupid reasons!" She couldn't know about the way I lose control.

"Sit back down, Ichiro-kun. I'm not going to make you." Her eyes were so warm and genuine that I decided I'd trust her and sat down, albeit stiffly. My nerves were frayed. It was a depressing thought that Hayashi-sensei thought I needed therapy. Did she think of me as a problem child, a person she could save since she couldn't save my mom from my father?

I decided not to voice my thoughts. Instead, I snuck glances at her breasts and crotch while she lectured me about the benefits of therapy and why she thought I needed it, how it helped people all the time. Something I didn't really care about. My anger was something that I could control if I really wanted to. (A lie that I'd used to comfort myself so many times before…)

I glanced between her thighs, and then back at her breasts. Did she shave? Or did she let it grow down there? I wondered how long it'd been since she'd been touched by a man. I know she has a thing for one of the other P.E Teachers, specifically Teshima-sensei, but I also know he's married with kids and I doubted she'd act on her feelings because of that.

Teshima-sensei was stupid to not ditch his wife and bang her, or just have an affair. She got all blushy and nervous whenever he addressed her so he obviously knew about her feelings. I'd have fucked her ten times over in his position. Kyoko Hayashi was gorgeous, afterall. The only physical flaw she had was maybe looking worn out, even though she's only thirty years old. Maybe it was the fact that she was a teacher. Dealing with kids like me every day probably raised her stress level to the roof and it showed. Not to mention how she was the advisor of the ping-pong team, which hadn't won a tournament in who knows how long, if ever. Other than the slight vibe that she was unhappy, she was still beautiful with her dark red hair, amber eyes, and those huge breasts…

"I get the feeling you're not listening."

"You'd be right," I grinned, "but I get what you're saying. I've gotta try harder to avoid fights, but it's not like I ever even do anything to provoke them. I honestly was just minding my own business in my classroom, Tsunoda demanded I go to the roof with him, said I looked at his crush the wrong way, and then he attacked…"

"So your teacher saw and heard this," Hayashi-sensei asked with a raised eyebrow, interested.

"Nah, just the girl and some of Tsunoda's friends. The ones that beat me up."

Hayashi-sensei pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, writing down my words in a tiny notebook, "the girl's name?"

"Yuuki Miku," I blushed, "There's no use talking to her…" Just as I was saying that Hayashi-sensei's phone rang.

"Hello, Kyoko Hayashi speaking?"

I sat and watched her. Her body tensed up. "A suspicious man? Hmm, I'll inform the other faculty members, for now just send some of the other sports club advisors. I have a situation I need to take care of right now." I cocked my head, curious as to what was going on. I ran my fingers through my sweaty hair, dark brows furrowed.

"What's going on," I asked when she hung up the phone. Hayashi sighed, hand on hip.

"Not that it's any of your business, but it appears that a suspicious man is at the front gate. Because I'm with you I can't do much about it, but they're sending a few other teachers down to see what's going on." I grinned.

"Yeah cause a bunch of teachers can do something against a possible maniac. Sure." I stood up and walked towards the doorway. "My face hurts. Well, everything hurts. Can we head to the nurse's office now?" Hayashi-sensei sighed, stepping closer.

"I was going to wait for Marikawa-sensei to come to us but...It would be rather awful if we were to keep you waiting any longer with that beat up face of yours. She's probably done with the other boys…"

I frowned. "Why do you sound doubtful?"

"Let's just say she's not all there, now come on." I stuck my hands into the pockets of my uniform, trudging behind her. Classes were in session left and right. Maybe the day wouldn't be so bad after all, once I got patched up. I doubted it, though. I'd had a bad feeling since I'd first gotten up in the morning- a sensation where I just knew everything was going to go wrong today. And even as we walked towards the infirmary, a heavy feeling sat in my chest. Maybe it was that sketchy call Hayashi-sensei got, who knows. Either way, something was going on.

Everything was so...quiet. Classroom after classroom with no rambunctious student, no troublemakers walking the halls.

Then, just like that-a sound. A dark-haired boy came running from down the hallway. He looked somewhat familiar, upon closer inspection, I realized he was a classmate. Takashi Komuro. He was known to be somewhat of a delinquent like myself. Less for fighting though, more because he skipped nonstop and talked back to teachers. He was running fast like he was in a race or something. Hayashi-sensei looked peeved, and she reached out to stop him.

"Excuse me, Komuro-san!"

Komura froze for just a second. Yes, I definitely recognized him. For a moment we just stared at each other. His brown eyes were narrow, sweat all over his face, dark brown hair clumping on his forehead. He looked terrified. "Someone...just got killed at the front gates…I-I have to go. Get out of my way! You should run too. We all need to get the hell outta here." He bolted past us.

I couldn't believe what I'd just heard. Normally, a claim like "someone just got killed" was something I wouldn't believe, but Takashi's pale and sweaty face made it evident he was speaking the truth. And there had been mention of a "suspicious man" at the gates earlier…

"K-Killed!? What are you talking about? Komuro-san! Komuro-san, you get back here this instant!" Hayashi-sensei yelled but the boy was already gone, sprinting down the hallway. For a moment, we gazed after him in silence. We both contemplated what we had just heard.

"So that man killed someone," I murmured, "I'm glad you didn't go investigate with the other teachers, Kyoko-sensei."

Hayashi-sensei didn't say anything about my lack of formality. She let it go, maybe because she was worried too. "A murder at the gate..? Teshima-sensei would have called me." She clearly felt something for him. "He would have texted me...Not to mention, we didn't hear a gun go off and the man would have never been let in..."

I was getting exasperated listening to her monologue. "Kyoko-sensei, can we worry about this later? Shouldn't you go to the principal and tell him what's going on?"

Hayashi-sensei looked me dead in the eyes. "I sincerely doubt anyone was killed."

I sighed. "You're kidding, right?"

The woman's nervousness faded away, and her expression hardened. "You won't be leaving school, Ichiro-kun. If something did happen, we'd know. Teshima-sensei would call me in an emergency the moment anything happened. And as a teacher, I can't leave you alone after a fight. So I'll escort you to the infirmary, and then I will go to the principal alone... I'll let another teacher handle that boy."

Was she dumb? She trusted Teshima-sensei so much that she was willing to risk the school being assaulted by some strange man? That was the dumbest thing I'd ever heard! Especially since Teshima could have been the one who got killed in the first place.

"How do you know Teshima-sensei wasn't the person Komuro-san claimed was killed? Do you really want to take a risk like this?"

Hayashi-sensei twisted and glared at me. She shoved her glasses up her nose rudely, making quite a huff. "Komuro-san lied. He wanted to leave school early, no doubt. Four or more teachers went to investigate this stranger at the gates. There is no way he killed all four of them. And there's no reason to, in the first place."

She was an idiot.

A small, twisted part of me was tempted to just ditch Hayashi-sensei and get the hell out of here. It was a gut feeling. An instinct. Like a dog, I sensed danger and felt the urge to run with my tail between my legs, but I ignored it. It was an overreaction. Maybe my head got messed up by all that punching. I forced myself to relax. Everything was fine. What happened with Komuro-san was strange, but nothing too serious, there was no reason to run away.

If only I'd known...I'd taken it all for granted.