[Three weeks before the outbreak, Satoru was crouched in front of a news stand, peering over the top of his glasses at a bold article header that read MYSTERIOUS ILLNESS CLAIMS LIVES OF DOZENS - "NO CURE ON HORIZON."
He'd grinned, at the time. Pointed it out to Suguru and the others and pulled his best creepy expression.]
Have you heard about this? It's strange, right? I heard it's spread through biting. Almost like...
[Suguru had knocked him over the head before he could continue, and he'd stood up and shuffled towards him, making exaggerated groaning sounds and dragging his feet until everyone's reactions had him bursting into laughter.
He's not laughing now.
Crouched behind a random car on the street with Suguru by his side, he watches in horror as yet another person is reduced to pieces of flesh and viscera, torn apart by what were once fellow humans.
They're sitting ducks, really. They can't hide here forever- and why are they hiding, anyway? They're akuma-kin!! The strongest! Unbeatable, regardless of whether you're a stupid human or a mindless monster. Resolve begins to build in his chest, determination overtaking shock, and Satoru turns his head to Suguru, nodding slightly as he raises his bat and tightens his grip on it. His eyes are hard, mind already made up. They've been partners for long enough now that he knows Suguru will agree.]
The school is east. [Shoko is meant to be there today.] Ready?
( Suguru didn't want much from life. To cruise through high school, trying just hard enough to set him apart, and waste all other hours with his friends, in abandoned houses, smoking, talking shit, trying to forget the darker thoughts which plagued him.
Of course, it was never so easy with Satoru, who started fights and gained a following. His best friend, loud and arrogant, dashing any chance of peace and quiet. And as a result, Suguru had found himself in charge of a gang. One day they'd gifted him a jacket, then next they were calling him Right Hand Man. It was a hassle. The boy didn't care for it. Everyone else had assumed a role of him, right next to Satoru.
...But this. This is something else entirely. Gone are the days of stupid gangs and classroom fights. No, now their lives are on the line... How did he even get himself into this mess?
Suguru sighs, glancing at his friend poised and ready to fight his way to the school. Always running head first into everything. And Geto always protecting his back. )
Be careful.
( He murmurs. Taking one last drag of his cigarette before butting it into the ground. Satoru never is, but it's worth the warning any way. )
—Lets go.
( And Geto is up, vaulting over the bonnet of a car and straight into the grasp of a mindless, disgusting zombie. Before it can grab him, Geto is striking at its head like it might be a baseball. Rotten blood and guts splatter onto the car window. Some of it gets on Geto's sleeve, and he frowns. Gross. )
[It's just as he expected, and Gojo can't help but give Suguru a self-satisfied smirk as he follows him, dashing around the bonnet. All traces of concern are gone from his face as he swings his own bat into the stomach of the closest zombie. It flips forward onto it stomach, and Satoru swings down again, mashing it's head into the road.
His pant hems are similarly splattered in guts, but Satoru doesn't really care. He'll just buy- or find- new ones, right? He looks over at Geto and tilts his bat up against his shoulder.]
These guys really are mindless. I bet we could kill them in our sleep.
[Maybe he's too cavalier, considering the numbers they still have to work through to get to Shoko, but Gojo's confident. It's him and Suguru, after all.]
[Even as rough hands shake him by the shoulder and he's crowded back into a wall so that he's surrounded on every side, Yuta thinks to himself, it could be worse.
This school was meant to be different. A clean slate. No one here knew about the ghosts crawling up his back, about the guilt or the counsellors, or the two unsuccessful moves before this one- as if his mother thinks they just need a change in scenery.
It didn't seem to matter. Here he is all the same, as if the stench of weakness clings to him, an invitation these four boys have taken eagerly. Yuta sighs to himself, and it must be taken as a response to some taunting he didn't hear, because the next thing he knows, there's the quiet but unmistakable click of a switchblade.
Ah. Well, it got worse. Yuta freezes up, suddenly feeling less exhausted and a whole lot more alert.]
Um, hey... we can sort this out without that, right?
[They're pressed up in a far corner of one of the large school's courtyards, just distanced enough for no one to catch the gleam of metal, but close enough to a handful of students eating their lunch that Yuta feels a little embarrassed. I mean geez, they can't harrass a guy for his spare change in private?]
How many times does Maki have to tell these idiots not to start shit at school. It's bad enough they're fighting punks from other gangs. And she's the one who ends up getting jumped. But now they're picking on weaklings too?!
It's with the fury of a thousand bears, Maki Zenin, local deliquient and Sukeban of the school gang, slides in front of the alleyway entrance, kendo stick already pointed at her underclassmen. )
OI! What the hell do you think you're doing?!
( Murmured groans are whispered among the delinquents—'Oh shit, It's Maki.' 'We're fucking dead, dude.'—knowing no amount of grovelling is going to stop the beating they're about to get.
She's stomping into the alleyway, effectively trapping them all in her own lair, and stops upon realising who they're picking on...
Isn't that the Class Prez? What was his name again?
—Not good. Not good. If he snitches, Maki is done for. She's already been pulled into the Principal's office too many times to count. This would be her last warning... )
God damn it! ( And she swings, lining up the idiot's like a bowling pins and striking their heads without hesitation. One of 'em goes down, spit and a tooth flying out as he hits the ground, before she's jumping on the other ones. Her fists, bandaged and bloodied from her last fight, connecting with their cheeks. )
[Deep down, Yuta thinks this move is probably temporary too, but it's never stopped him from getting attached. He knows all his classmate's names, is friendly with most of them- but he's never had a conversation with Maki Zenin.
It's not even because she's so intimidating- it's more like Yuta knows who he is, and that's someone a girl like Maki would have no reason to entertain. She's so cool, strangely honorable despite her delinquent status, and Yuta can feel himself staring at her instead of doing anything useful.
He gasps as her kendo stick makes impact, throwing a hand up to protect himself from the gore, and watches through his fingers as two of the boys make an attempt to sprint, readily abandoning their friends.
Maybe he should be more scared, but Yuta finds that instead it's leeching out of him, replaced by awe. His eyes practically sparkle as Maki's fist collides with another face- she's so strong, and so fast.
At the other end of the courtyard, a small crowd has started to form, and Yuta thinks he can see one of their teachers beginning to wind their way through the students. On impulse, he grabs at Maki's arm, a likely dangerous choice, and tries to drag her in the other direction and further down the alley, determined that she won't get in trouble for saving him.]
Quick! Trust me, there's a hole in the fence over here!
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no subject
He'd grinned, at the time. Pointed it out to Suguru and the others and pulled his best creepy expression.]
Have you heard about this? It's strange, right? I heard it's spread through biting. Almost like...
[Suguru had knocked him over the head before he could continue, and he'd stood up and shuffled towards him, making exaggerated groaning sounds and dragging his feet until everyone's reactions had him bursting into laughter.
He's not laughing now.
Crouched behind a random car on the street with Suguru by his side, he watches in horror as yet another person is reduced to pieces of flesh and viscera, torn apart by what were once fellow humans.
They're sitting ducks, really. They can't hide here forever- and why are they hiding, anyway? They're akuma-kin!! The strongest! Unbeatable, regardless of whether you're a stupid human or a mindless monster. Resolve begins to build in his chest, determination overtaking shock, and Satoru turns his head to Suguru, nodding slightly as he raises his bat and tightens his grip on it. His eyes are hard, mind already made up. They've been partners for long enough now that he knows Suguru will agree.]
The school is east. [Shoko is meant to be there today.] Ready?
no subject
Of course, it was never so easy with Satoru, who started fights and gained a following. His best friend, loud and arrogant, dashing any chance of peace and quiet. And as a result, Suguru had found himself in charge of a gang. One day they'd gifted him a jacket, then next they were calling him Right Hand Man. It was a hassle. The boy didn't care for it. Everyone else had assumed a role of him, right next to Satoru.
...But this. This is something else entirely. Gone are the days of stupid gangs and classroom fights. No, now their lives are on the line... How did he even get himself into this mess?
Suguru sighs, glancing at his friend poised and ready to fight his way to the school. Always running head first into everything. And Geto always protecting his back. )
Be careful.
( He murmurs. Taking one last drag of his cigarette before butting it into the ground. Satoru never is, but it's worth the warning any way. )
—Lets go.
( And Geto is up, vaulting over the bonnet of a car and straight into the grasp of a mindless, disgusting zombie. Before it can grab him, Geto is striking at its head like it might be a baseball. Rotten blood and guts splatter onto the car window. Some of it gets on Geto's sleeve, and he frowns. Gross. )
no subject
[It's just as he expected, and Gojo can't help but give Suguru a self-satisfied smirk as he follows him, dashing around the bonnet. All traces of concern are gone from his face as he swings his own bat into the stomach of the closest zombie. It flips forward onto it stomach, and Satoru swings down again, mashing it's head into the road.
His pant hems are similarly splattered in guts, but Satoru doesn't really care. He'll just buy- or find- new ones, right? He looks over at Geto and tilts his bat up against his shoulder.]
These guys really are mindless. I bet we could kill them in our sleep.
[Maybe he's too cavalier, considering the numbers they still have to work through to get to Shoko, but Gojo's confident. It's him and Suguru, after all.]
no subject
This school was meant to be different. A clean slate. No one here knew about the ghosts crawling up his back, about the guilt or the counsellors, or the two unsuccessful moves before this one- as if his mother thinks they just need a change in scenery.
It didn't seem to matter. Here he is all the same, as if the stench of weakness clings to him, an invitation these four boys have taken eagerly. Yuta sighs to himself, and it must be taken as a response to some taunting he didn't hear, because the next thing he knows, there's the quiet but unmistakable click of a switchblade.
Ah. Well, it got worse. Yuta freezes up, suddenly feeling less exhausted and a whole lot more alert.]
Um, hey... we can sort this out without that, right?
[They're pressed up in a far corner of one of the large school's courtyards, just distanced enough for no one to catch the gleam of metal, but close enough to a handful of students eating their lunch that Yuta feels a little embarrassed. I mean geez, they can't harrass a guy for his spare change in private?]
no subject
How many times does Maki have to tell these idiots not to start shit at school. It's bad enough they're fighting punks from other gangs. And she's the one who ends up getting jumped. But now they're picking on weaklings too?!
It's with the fury of a thousand bears, Maki Zenin, local deliquient and Sukeban of the school gang, slides in front of the alleyway entrance, kendo stick already pointed at her underclassmen. )
OI! What the hell do you think you're doing?!
( Murmured groans are whispered among the delinquents—'Oh shit, It's Maki.' 'We're fucking dead, dude.'—knowing no amount of grovelling is going to stop the beating they're about to get.
She's stomping into the alleyway, effectively trapping them all in her own lair, and stops upon realising who they're picking on...
Isn't that the Class Prez? What was his name again?
—Not good. Not good. If he snitches, Maki is done for. She's already been pulled into the Principal's office too many times to count. This would be her last warning... )
God damn it! ( And she swings, lining up the idiot's like a bowling pins and striking their heads without hesitation. One of 'em goes down, spit and a tooth flying out as he hits the ground, before she's jumping on the other ones. Her fists, bandaged and bloodied from her last fight, connecting with their cheeks. )
no subject
It's not even because she's so intimidating- it's more like Yuta knows who he is, and that's someone a girl like Maki would have no reason to entertain. She's so cool, strangely honorable despite her delinquent status, and Yuta can feel himself staring at her instead of doing anything useful.
He gasps as her kendo stick makes impact, throwing a hand up to protect himself from the gore, and watches through his fingers as two of the boys make an attempt to sprint, readily abandoning their friends.
Maybe he should be more scared, but Yuta finds that instead it's leeching out of him, replaced by awe. His eyes practically sparkle as Maki's fist collides with another face- she's so strong, and so fast.
At the other end of the courtyard, a small crowd has started to form, and Yuta thinks he can see one of their teachers beginning to wind their way through the students. On impulse, he grabs at Maki's arm, a likely dangerous choice, and tries to drag her in the other direction and further down the alley, determined that she won't get in trouble for saving him.]
Quick! Trust me, there's a hole in the fence over here!