Naruto walked ahead, with Miyamoto and Hirano behind him while she brought up the rear. The atmosphere from the meeting followed them like smoke, but she had already put it out of her mind.
There was a major problem that jumped out at her immediately—Miyamoto did not know how to move.
While Naruto moved like a ghost, silent as the grave with his presence all but gone, Miyamoto moved like a student trying to sneak.
In other words—loudly.
It was made worse by the fact that the girl was showing her displeasure at her for her actions in the little meeting. Not obviously—but in that passive-aggressive way girls loved so much.
It might have been funny if she cared.
No—she was more surprised that Hirano moved better than Miyamoto.
Now that is actually funny. The nerd moves better than the ace of a combat sport.
Even if it looked like it took all his concentration to do so.
It is actually a bit pathetic.
To think Miyamoto was fashioned as some sort of rival to her was just sad in retrospect. That the girl took it even the least bit seriously simply showed how unable she was to appreciate the distance between them.
She kept her silence though.
"Do you know what to look out for?" asked Naruto as soon as they were at the bottom of the stairs.
Miyamoto looked to speak, but Hirano replied first. "Not really."
Good. He knows his limits.
"Good," Naruto replied. "It is good to be aware of your limits." Turning to Miyamoto, he continued. "Takashi was correct in that—this is no longer a classroom. If you are unsure of something, the best place to attempt it is in training. You must be keenly aware of your limits."
Miyamoto's face clouded, but Naruto had already turned away and continued talking.
"You check the ABCDEs—alert status check, barrier check, condition of supplies check, defensive measures check, and escape route check."
"Mr Uzumaki," began Hirano. "The last four are self evident, but what does alert status check mean?"
"Saeko?" asked Mr Uzumaki, turning to her.
She answered with a small smile, strangely happy at being included by him. "You look, listen, and smell without exposing yourself yet. Is anything out of place? Does anything feel off?"
Naruto nodded. "Saeko is correct. You must approach all sweeps actively—never absent minded or with anything less than full focus. Your team is placing their lives in your hands."
He continued talking as he led them around.
"Barrier check is just that—you check that the barriers are intact. We are fortunate that the sports complex has the kind of barriers that are solid, but we will not always be here."
For some reason, Miyamoto looked surprised at that last thing.
Naruto continued though. "Condition of supplies works with logistics—which the others are handling. But in places with other kinds of defenses—electric fences for example—one might visually check the connections, and that the fence still works."
"Defensive measures would be traps?" Miyamoto asked, eager to contribute.
"Yes," replied Naruto. "Traps, tripwires, alerts and alarms—those sorts of things. For us, they might be counterproductive because the zombies are attracted to sound."
Miyamoto frowned a bit. "If that's the case, why did you dim the lights last night? Wouldn't it have been better to sleep with the lights?"
Naruto nodded approvingly. "Very good," he replied. "If I do something you do not understand, ask me. That is the only way you will grow. As for your question, do any of you want to give it a go? Saeko? Kohta?"
Kohta looked like he wanted to, so she let him.
"We are also on the lookout for other people?" he said, half questioning.
"Correct again—well done, Kohta," Naruto said. "Our enemies are not only zombies. We must also be on the lookout for any others—looters, raiders, or even just survivors."
Now Miyamoto was actually frowning, her fists clenched.
"How can you say that?" she asked. "Are you saying that you pick and choose who dies? Why would you not help others?"
"That is exactly what I am saying," insisted Naruto, stopping and facing the group.
They were in the vehicle bay, and the far side of the space was dark and filled with shadows. They framed Naruto, giving him the image of a man rising from the deep. The shadows flickered in the overhead light, blending with Naruto's shadow to look like a massive nine tailed beast just out of the corner of her eye.
She looked at it directly and the resemblance was gone, even with the shadows the way they had been before.
"Our first responsibility is to each other here," he continued. "If you do not understand that, you will get yourself and the rest of the group killed."
"I can't accept that," insisted Miyamoto, eyes flashing. "I won't become a monster."
Like us, you mean?
Hirano fidgeted, uncomfortable. He obviously agreed with Naruto—but saying it out loud felt like picking a side. It meant admitting something ugly.
"Maybe," said Naruto. "That will not make you the least hesitant of accepting the protection of monsters now, will it?"
He chuckled as he started moving again. "Oh no… You will remain on your soapbox, floating above the rivers of blood your monsters will shed for you."
Miyamoto's hands clenched into fists. The words were forming—she was ready to argue, ready to fight back—
and then Naruto turned away, already done with the conversation.
He didn't need to convince her.
Because in the end, she would accept their protection anyway.
"Saeko and I are heading out," he said, glancing at Hirano. "I didn't think it'd bear repeating, but tell Saya to keep an eye on the CCTV feed around the sports complex at all times. The only blind spot is right on the side where my office is, but there's no access point there."
He waited for Hirano's nod before leaving.
She turned to Miyamoto, nothing but a small smile on her face before she followed after him.
The journey back up was filled with an oppressive silence. The shadows in the sports complex seemed more alive—like they would suddenly jump out and resolve into concrete things.
Kohta watched Rei out of the corner of his eye. She was still tense, her shoulders tight and her face clouded.
Many people would struggle with the kind of thinking needed to survive.
I should be scared.
I should be horrified.
Wasn't it ironic that he was—dare he say, excited?
Because I am.
Not just as a gun nut. Not just as a doomsday lover.
But as a man.
I used to pray for days like this.
Well, not exactly. But, it was a chance to rewrite his story. The world that knew him as a fat nerd was no longer—ripped to shreds at the hands of the walking dead.
Now he was surrounded by people who, in those days, he used to look up at from the bottom where he squiggled.
Takashi—the cool delinquent.
Momo—the gentle queen.
Miku—the bubbly seductress.
Saya—the pragmatic genius.
Those days I used to think guys like Takashi had it all figured out.
Takashi was, in a word, disappointing.
Turns out, they just knew how to act like it.
Momo turned out to be a potato—barely there, but fantastic with some purpose.
Saya was even more intense than he would have ever guessed now that she had unmoored herself from the polite fictions that must have shackled her.
Not to mention that she probably saved my life.
Yes, he definitely wasn't at the bottom any longer, but he wasn't at the top either.
That place belonged to the two gargantuan titans of violence their midst—Saeko the Ice Queen, and Mr Uzumaki.
It was as though something shifted in them. He had not seen any aggression from them directed at any of them. He hadn't even seen them fight directly.
Yet…
Saeko was understandable. There was no one who had ever seen her fight—even in mere kendo spars— could think of her as anything other than dangerous. But now, the difference was like seeing a predator on the television, and then having said predator appear in your room.
Nothing could really prepare one for such an experience.
Mr Uzumaki was even worse. He was a lovable tiger mascot—like the tiger in the old Winnie the Pooh series—that turned out to have been worn by a tiger all along.
Absolutely jarring.
Their presence was like an aura—a pressure that pressed down on you the longer you were the focus of their attention.
It was more manageable with Saeko because she almost never spoke, preferring to watch.
With Mr Uzumaki, his charisma put him in the centre of things.
And the man was charismatic.
A few hundred years ago, he imagined, warlords would have been made of men like Mr Uzumaki—rallying strangers to fight and die for each other.
His charisma amplified his presence, making the physical weight of his full attention almost unbearable to him—not in an unpleasant way, but definitely in a way that judged you for your weakness.
It is no wonder Takashi cracked.
Do they all feel it too? That weight pressing on us?
He had been so angry that Takashi would start that shit. He'd clenched his fists and grit his teeth, trying to be polite.
But then, we're not in 'polite society' any longer, he realised.
Before he could do anything though, he happened to see Mr Uzumaki—completely unbothered, with just a hint of mild curiosity.
The reality when compared with his expectation was so jarring that his anger diffused.
He'd once gone vacationing with his parents as a child. For some unimaginable reason, they got it into their heads to go to India. There, in the muddy backwater that the locals called a nature reserve, he'd encountered this presence for the first time.
He'd been standing a little behind the group, leaning on a tree to catch his breath when the guide stopped and turned, freezing like he'd seen a ghost.
The rest of the party turned and similarly froze, his mother crying hot, silent tears. He'd looked up and saw a massive thing lying in the trees watching them all with something he would anthropomorphize as boredom.
A tiger, as he would later discover.
The thing dropped, close enough to see the rippling muscles under the banded skin. Close enough to reach out and swipe at him with paws bigger than his torso. It made a strange sound—a rough tearing that nearly shocked him off his feet, and brought absolute silence to the jungle they were in.
Looking back, It was the first time he'd felt truly small—not because he was weak, but because something far greater had chosen to let him live.
There was a very good reason he used the tiger imagery—even in his head.
Saeko reminded him of that tiger.
Naruto reminded him of that tiger as well.
It was honestly refreshing in that sense when compared to his world before.
Despite that…
No—because of that, I don't want to go back.
Rei opened the door, the slight creak of the hinges breaking him from his thoughts.
That might need oiling, he noted idly.
As they stepped into the room, the occupants looked up, acknowledging them, and promptly going back to their work.
The atmosphere seemed lighter now that the confrontation had ended—lighter, but also hyper-focused. Takashi not being in the room made it better.
I'm still going to punch him in the face.
Naruto's computer was still on, but they'd also brought Kyoko's computer from her former office, and Saya was busy in front of it.
Miku had a large notebook open in front of her, and she was copying out information. He leaned over in curiosity to look.
Her writing is surprisingly good…
She was writing a list of places and their addresses—malls, pharmacies and clinics, hardware stores, and so on. She looked like she was already some way into the notebook.
Momo was seated in front of Naruto's laptop, the printer beside it working. From what he could see, she was printing quick reference sheets—quick first aid, what looked like an edible plants guide, and something he recognised as a quick wound treatment guide lay on top of the pile of papers.
"Oi Saya…" he began. "Mr Uzumaki said that you need to keep an eye on the CCTV."
Saya glanced up for a moment before going back to what she was doing. "Yeah… thanks."
She paused for a beat. "You do know that Naruto doesn't care if you call him his name, don't you?"
Everyone looked up at her. She on the other hand didn't look up.
"Wouldn't that be too… I don't know? Casual?" asked Miku.
He didn't particularly care, so he slipped out while Saya was answering. He had to take a look at the roof.
Watching her move, she really is the Iron Dog's daughter.
He entertained a briefly hilarious image in his mind, of the man, huge, and with a festival nin mask, followed by a tiny Saeko, with her own festival nin mask, muttering under her breath "Nin, Nin, Nin…" as she shadowed him.
The real thing was a lot more serious though.
She moved like a stalking panther—deliberate, patient.
He followed, shadowing her at a half-step just off her left shoulder. They moved in sync—like the front and back paws of said panther. Her technique was flawless—each step placed just right, her weight distributed to muffle her steps to silence. Her hand hovered over her blade, not quite touching it, her shoulders flowing freely.
For his part, he was just relieved. Scouting was a breeze when your enemies were blind and dead to boot.
They started from the clinic just beside them. It was a single floor with a corridor running down its length, branching to the left and the right to lead to the supply room and Shizuka's office respectively. The rooms were open, and nearly empty—most of the contents were probably in their possession already.
Still, it was a start.
They locked all the doors except the door closest to the sports complex. They could do nothing about the windows though—they were low enough that anyone could hop over.
He reached over and tapped her shoulder, bringing her to a halt. Then, he walked the length of the walkway, marking out areas for barricades to break up the momentum of a mob.
Once done, he indicated for her to continue.
They doubled back towards the maintenance parking lot on the other side of the sports complex.
Some zombies were shambling about. They looked less robust than the previous day, and moved with even less coordination. The maintenance parking lot itself was a treasure trove. Besides the two buses normally used for the volleyball team, there were about half a dozen electric utility vehicles. The bus would be tricky to fit into the sports complex, but the utility vehicles?
Thank God for small mercies.
He took note of the numbers for all the vehicles—they'd need to pay the administrative building a visit.
Saeko took point again, and began angling them towards the science building.
They went past the zombies he had demolished yesterday.
Seems like a lifetime ago.
He saw her take note of the scene and file it away for later.
When they got to the science building, they immediately became more alert. The doors were locked.
Seems like we have other residents on the campus.
Saeko seemed to come to the same conclusion.
They went round the building, inspecting it. It was probably the most intact building in the school that was not the sports complex. Breaking in would be noisy though, so they moved on.
He made a mental note to come back himself.
The cafeteria was where they had to make their first kill for the day.
Saeko paused just inside the double doors opening into the mess hall, her shoulders tightening a touch as her hand fell to the hilt of her blade. The air hung heavy with the sharp metallic tang of blood, shot through with ammonia. Blood and gore were splattered liberally, with a particularly artistic splash all across the back wall, adding macabre detailing to the school emblem on the wall. At the other end of the hall, at least a dozen zombies gathered, pressed against the wall bearing the exhaust fans.
Well well well… What do we have here?
This presented the perfect opportunity to test Saeko.
He glanced at her. Her blade was in her hand, and her eyes were on his face. She saw something there and smiled before loping forward. As she passed, she tapped the edge of a serving table, drawing all the attention towards her. The zombies closest to her turned, picking up their pace as they moved to investigate the sound. A fresher zombie reached her first, stumbling blindly.
She twirled as she ghosted past it, her strike perfect. Her blade bit in with a solid thunk, chopping into something vital in its head. It dropped like a rock, the weight pulling it off her blade, and the sound of it hitting the floor adding a bit of urgency into the shambling corpses.
Then she was in their midst.
Her second strike went through the neck of its target, separating the head from the body. Two more zombies lunged in her direction, but she was no longer there. She danced between them, leading them towards the table, and tangling them up in the rows there.
By now, the noise was enough to attract all the zombies in the cafeteria.
One of the zombies following her lunged, a table getting in the way as it sprawled across it. A swift chop, and it dropped, struggles ended. She moved a tray in her off hand, catching another zombie which led with its open maw. The clang of the tray sharpened the urgency of the zombies, which were now one short as her blade followed, shaving it of its head.
Two more quick strikes, and the number of zombies had dropped to half a dozen.
She had run out of room to maneuver.
She ran at the far wall and planted her foot there. One step. Another. Then she pushed off, flinging herself over the onrushing zombies, and repositioning herself in an instant. Her opponents struggled to compensate, but they were too slow.
Too dead.
She retreated, two quick chops bringing down the same number of zombies. They fell, entangling the others rushing at her, and she took that time to set her stance.
She took a deep breath, stilled, then moved.
When she stopped, she was at the wall again, panting harshly—the most exertion he had ever seen from her. Behind her was surgical carnage, zombies dead and missing parts of their heads.
Beautiful.
Naruto allowed her a moment to catch her breath.
Her skin was flushed, and she could feel her mouth stretched into a smile, her heart still pounding in her ears—not from exertion, but from sheer joy.
How long had it been since she went past first gear?
Too long.
He looked at her in a subtly different manner now—as though really seeing her.
Do you like what you see, Naruto?
His eyes remained on her as she walked back towards him, her eyes locked on his, and very nearly preening. She rearranged her clothes and hair as she walked, adjusting them so that they fell properly again. Then she swung her blade—an abrupt slash that stripped it of the light gore coating it.
His eyes followed her hands all the way.
By the time she reached him, she was back to her proper self, and his eyes had closed up again.
But not quite as much as before.
She was aware enough to realise that a genie had left the bottle. Something happened in that communion of blood and broken flesh.
For a moment, she wondered if Naruto's attention was something new—if she had simply been unable to see it before now.
Maybe it didn't matter.
Not here. Not now.
Suddenly, she had to know.
"What happened to them?"
He didn't need to ask—he knew exactly what she meant.
"I stumbled into them when I went scouting yesterday," he replied. "Didn't really expect dead students to try and eat me."
She huffed.
She didn't need to ask either.
He happened to them.
"Well done," he said.
She just nodded and slipped back into the lead, her blade in her hands this time. Her appetite had been whetted, and she would get her satisfaction.
This world practically guaranteed it.
The storeroom was thankfully locked. As was the cold room.
They picked the keys from the cook's station.
The keys to the storeroom did not turn.
Naruto came forward, signalling for her to put her blade out of sight.
"Hey cook!" he called. "It's me—Naruto"
There was scrambling behind the door.
"What is your favourite order here," the voice called back. It sounded tired—weighted down with struggle and grief, and nearly disbelieving.
Naruto laughed. "That's easy! I only ever order Miso Ramen—three bowls."
The person laughed as well even as the door was unlocked.
It was just the head cook inside.
He was dressed in his uniform, with his name tag wildly askew. The uniform was filthy, the sleeves caked with dirt and streaked with grease. One of the pant legs was torn just above the knee. From the slight streaks of blood, it looked like the sleeve was soaked before it was ripped off.
The tag read 'Hiroshi Nakamura'.
The two men clasped hands even as they both stepped into the storeroom.
It smelled stale, like sweaty bodies, urine, and old blood. Even brightly lit, it still had a sort of gloom about it.
"Were you the ones causing that racket outside earlier?" asked Mr Nakamura, relief in his voice.
He looked exhausted. Empty bottles of water and bread wrappers were in a bucket in a corner of the room. Some of the bottles looked to contain urine.
"Yeah," Naruto replied. "We're holed up in the sports complex—about ten of us in total."
"Thank you Jesus," muttered the chef. "I've been pressed for the last couple of hours, and contemplating how I'd navigate and do my business outside."
"We were just trying to figure out what the rest of the school was like," replied Naruto. He gestured to her. "This is Saeko Busujima—I'm an acquaintance of her father. Saeko, this is Hiroshi—the best ramen cook in the business."
"You would know," said the man, even as Saeko replied. "Pleased to meet you, Mr Nakamura."
The man chuckled. "No need to stand on formalities. You can call me Hiroshi, Ms Busujima."
She smiled as well—a polite thing she used to navigate social situations. "Then I must insist that you call me Saeko, Hiroshi."
"Very well," he agreed. "Now I've got a date with the American President. If you'll excuse me?"
She looked confused even as he left.
"Does he know the American President?" she asked, looking at Naruto.
"What?" Naruto replied, sounding distracted as he mentally catalogued what was present in the storeroom. "No… it's an, what are those called? Idiom? Going to the white house is how we say that we're going to the toilet in polite company."
"You mean euphemism?"
"Yeah! that."
She just sighed to herself.
Men.
They escorted Hiroshi back to the sports complex. Naruto went to a CCTV camera and waved, and in a few minutes, Kohta was at the stairs.
"Mr Kiroshi!" cried Kohta, excited.
"Kohta my boy!" Hiroshi replied.
Seems like the two know each other.
"We're going back out," said Naruto, laughter in his voice as he gently urged Hiroshi inside, ignoring the reunion between the man and Kohta. Kohta nodded, even though there was a flash of worry on his face as they left.
Laughter transforms Naruto's face, she mused. It went from unique to lighting up the room wherever he was. Hiroshi seemed to have lightened his mood somewhat, and they set off in much lighter spirits.
This time, she went straight for the administrative block.
The outdoor field has significantly more zombies—nearly five dozen from her count. Looking towards the parking lot, she didn't bother trying to count. It was like a sea of shambling heads
"There was definitely another group in here," Naruto remarked quietly, pointing at the gate.
He'd told them that he had locked it previously. Now, it stood wide open, the gates warped and bent. There were zombies concentrated around it, and a lot of mangled corpses.
"Someone must have rammed into it while escaping," he said. "But someone else must have been able to quietly unlock it to escape earlier."
She agreed with that analysis.
They moved more quietly now, Naruto coming forward to take point as they crept into the administrative block. The smell of decay was heavy in the air. Zombies milled about, shambling aimlessly, but Naruto ignored them and focused on quietly dispatching the ones in their way.
He used a strange knife— short and hiltless, with the blade a solid thing that was wide just above the grip, and tapered to a point. It sank into heads nearly effortlessly, and he lowered the bodies gently, working their way up to the staff room.
That he managed all that with one arm was, quite frankly, very nearly unbelievable.
Even if she was seeing it with her own eyes.
She watched him—calm, measured, and deadly. One arm, and yet, the ease with which he worked was beyond impressive. It made her reconsider just how little she understood of him. His control was a weapon, as sharp as any blade.
For the first time, she got a glimpse of what Naruto really was.
They crept into the staff room, quiet as death. Naruto made for the board in the corner and picked up at least half a dozen keys.
He turned to her nodding as they began to reverse their journey.
As they left the administrative block, Naruto made her walk some way away from him, and towards the classroom block.
Then she heard a massive crash.
Followed shortly by another.
The zombies went crazy.
They rushed at the Administrative block from all sides, groaning and snarling in what passed for anticipation in their dead minds.
Naruto quietly slipped out, leaving the doors wide open for the oncoming horde to enter.
Brilliant, she thought. This way, he traps the zombies that get inside, and makes it less their concern.
They slipped away as the horde rushed towards the last loud noise, headed for the security outpost.
The room was wide open, but otherwise untouched. She saw in the monitor as the horde descended on the administrative block from all sides, the noise they made attracting even more zombies to the horde.
She turned to Naruto, but he was busy unplugging equipment and cords.
"We need radio and comms," he said simply, by way of explanation.
She found a pair of large sacks and helped him.
By the time they were done, only the monitors and their connections remained.
"We should drop these off before continuing," she suggested. With only one arm, he would be tied up if any situation arose.
They made their way back to the sports complex again. This time, they did not wait for the doors to open before leaving again.
Naruto and Saeko returned two more times after dropping him off. The first time to drop off a large sack of equipment that must have come from the security room, and the second to drop off bundled-up reference materials and maps he guessed were pilfered from the library.
Naruto's got a great thing going here, he thought.
And it was Naruto's. Sure there were two other adults, but Naruto's influence was obviously outsized. Kyoko had fallen on the new supplies like a shark, dragging a grumpy boy—Takashi along with her.
He hung around for a bit, simply glad to be alive before the itch to be doing something started up.
Ironically, in Naruto's absence, a girl named Saya seemed to be coordinating. It seemed amusing at first, but the more he interacted with her, the more confident he became that she was the natural choice.
He didn't really know her—apparently, she had never eaten at the cafeteria.
I'd definitely know her otherwise—that tongue is memorable.
She'd taken one look at him, sniffed, and wrinkled her nose.
"Bath first," she'd said.
He tried to argue, but she was not having it.
"You'd do us a world of good freshening up first. Working with you as you are would probably kill morale."
Yep… Memorable.
A bath and a tight fitting volleyball club uniform later, he was with Kohta and Saya as they tried to make space for where the bus would be.
Naruto had asked them to figure it out the last time he came around with Saeko. They intended to bring the school bus into the vehicle bay to make it easier to load things out for when they would eventually leave.
Now, all that was left was to open the vehicle bay doors.
"Let's leave it like this for now," Saya said, dusting off her hands. She carried herself as a supremely practical girl, and had no issues getting her hands dirty for what she felt was important.
She turned to Hiroshi as Kohta walked ahead. "So, what can you do?"
"I'm a cook," he said. "I can do logistics and the like too."
She could not keep her face from falling. "Please tell me that is not all."
He chuckled. "Well, I grew up on a farm. I can farm, tinker with vehicles—you know, stuff like that."
Her face lit up again. "Alright… That's good. You will have to learn more either way—we all do."
She was right, of course. He barely kept himself from sighing.
"I'm sure I will," he replied.
If I could fight, would the rest of the guys have become zombies?
That question wouldn't leave him. It sat there, bitter and unanswered.
The Lord would have sent me.
The Lord answered my cry for help and sent me Naruto. But, if he could not fight, he would have been unable to be used as an instrument of God's deliverance.
He'd been turning the matter in his head since the outbreak started. Left in the storeroom with only the sound of the dead beyond the door to keep him company, all he'd been able to do was think.
Why would God let such wickedness happen?
The thought tormented him.
Then he heard Naruto's voice at the door. It was as though an angel appeared to him, bringing him salvation. There was his answer.
Even in tragedy, the Lord still knows best.
What he needed to do now was to focus on learning and growing so that in the near future, he could also be an instrument of someone's salvation.
"Hey Hiroshi! Come on!" Saya called.
Hiroshi exhaled, forcing himself back to the present. He wasn't done thinking, but for now, there was work to do.
Not now, not yet, but soon.
For now, he'd be content with being an instrument of their nourishment.