"What do you mean, 'no problem'?" Hachiman looked at his friend with genuine anger. "I've never cared about the people on the other side. The only one I'm worried about is you!"
"Are you really going to do this? In a way that scars your own soul?"
How ironic, Shiro thought. To hear those words from your mouth, Hachiman.
"Once you do this, have you thought about what comes next? Even if it's the right choice, the fact remains." Hachiman's voice lowered. "You'll be an outcast."
Hachiman never underestimated the malice of the crowd. Gentle, "correct" people always struggled to survive because the world was neither gentle nor correct. If Shiro killed the infected now, even if it was for the greater good, everyone would label him a murderer.
"Wow, he actually killed his own classmates."
"He's a murderer."
"Why is someone like him still allowed to be here?"
Hachiman could already hear the whispers. Even if Shiro was proven right later, the atmosphere would have solidified. People would refuse the facts, reject the truth, and instinctively ostracize him. The world was unchangeable.
"I'm no Prince Arthas," Shiro remarked with a self-deprecating smirk. "We're friends, Hachiman. Do you really think I care about irrelevant people?"
They were both "Solitary Kings," after all.
"It's different! It's not the same!" Hachiman argued. Their isolation was a choice—a voluntary withdrawal. Shiro was talking about forced exile. He was twisting the concept.
"It's exactly the same." Shiro's eyes glinted with a chilling, unnatural light. Hachiman didn't look away, meeting his gaze with sharp intensity.
"I am doing this for myself. For us," Shiro said, the "us" clearly referring to the two of them.
"And I'm stopping you for myself. For us," Hachiman countered. They were friends. That was the bottom line.
"You've really changed," Shiro mused. "What turned you into this? My way is the most efficient. If we have no better solution and simply let things deteriorate, is that 'correct'?" Shiro looked past Hachiman toward Hayama.
"I..." Hayama struggled visibly. He truly wanted everyone to be saved. Everyone.
"This is the optimal solution, Hachiman! The optimal solution! I'm the only one here who can actually do it, so I'm the one who has to go." Shiro's voice rose into a roar, his usually calm, lazy face rippling with the intensity of a storm.
They couldn't expect anyone else to kill without hesitation. Even if the victims hadn't "woken up" yet, the law only recognized self-defense. Any proactive strike was technically a crime. For Shiro, it would just be another scene added to his nightmares—and he was already well-acquainted with nightmares.
"I know!" Hachiman stood his ground.
"If you've already made your resolve, then do it." Yukino stepped forward.
"You!" Hachiman turned to look at the Ice Queen.
"I have confirmed the existence of the zombies. Allowing them to wake up and run rampant would be... bad for Sobu High."
Yukino was a kind person at heart. Shiro knew she wanted to say it would be bad for "everyone," but she masked her concern under the name of the school.
"See? That's how it is," Shiro said to Hachiman with a thin smile.
"Fine." Hachiman's posture slumped as he sighed in defeat. He took a deep breath. "I'm coming with you."
"There's no need—"
"I'm going too," Yukino added.
"I'm coming as well," Hayama joined in.
You people... Shiro thought.
Shiro led the way back toward the main building, followed by Hachiman, Yukino, and Hayama. Before leaving, Hayama gave strict instructions to the students at the barricade: if anything went wrong, they were to seal the corridor immediately.
"Yukinoshita, are they really... zombies?" Hayama asked, seeking one final confirmation.
"Yes. I saw them with my own eyes." She brushed a strand of hair back, her gaze fixed forward. "Twisting on the ground without reason, baring their fangs the moment they see a human... If the movies use the word 'zombie' for such creatures, then it is a fitting description."
She had never played the games, but she had been forced to watch horror movies with her older sister, Haruno.
Shiro opened the door to the first classroom. It was a third-year room. No one was standing; only the fallen students littered the floor.
"How are you going to do it?" Hachiman asked.
"Snap their necks." Shiro approached the first student. "They seem to rely on the brain and nervous system. If the spinal cord is severed at the brain stem, their bodies shouldn't be able to move."
He placed his right hand on the student's jaw and his left on the back of the head. He checked the pulse at the wrist first. Blood was still flowing, but the pulse was microscopic. The body temperature was plummeting—it was already as cold as a corpse. No heartbeat.
Shiro looked at the others. "Confirmed. He's dead."
"Are you absolutely sure?" Hayama asked, still desperate for a miracle.
"Yes." Shiro applied pressure.
CRACK.
The sharp sound echoed in the silent room.
Hayama stepped forward to check the bodies himself. He wanted to prove Shiro was wrong, that Shiro's "sacrifice" was unnecessary, and that his own optimism was justified.
"..."
"Move aside. This is the last one," Shiro said, gently nudging Hayama's frozen body. He snapped the neck of the final student in the room.
After that, the pace quickened. They finished the third-year floor quickly; they were racing against the clock. Hayama remained silent the whole time, following only to keep his own sanity. Hachiman couldn't bring himself to help, and his guilt over his own "uselessness" ate at him. Yukino watched Shiro's every move with a sharp, calculating gaze. Today was the day her worldview shattered, but it was also the day her true freedom began.
As they reached the second-year floor, Hachiman looked back toward the Special Building. He saw Shizuka-sensei and the other teachers standing on the opposite walkway, watching them. Their silence was their greatest support; it allowed the students to believe what they were doing was sanctioned.
In the classroom next to Yukino's, they found Nakamura-sensei, the Math teacher. Shiro gave him the same mercy as the students. Though Yukino's expression didn't change, there was a flash of sadness in her eyes.
By the time they reached the first-year classrooms, things were changing. Some students were already twitching, stumbling over desks and chairs in a mindless daze. Shiro moved behind them, taking them down before they could fully realize their hunger.
Finally, they reached the faculty lounge on the first floor. It was Tsurumi-sensei, the Home Economics teacher. She was a kind woman, recently married. Hachiman remembered her well. Shiro did what he had to do.
They returned to the Special Building across the fourth-floor rooftop bridge. They were met with stares from the students. People knew what they had done. Hayama's presence kept them from speaking out, but the atmosphere was thick. Students in the distance whispered, while those nearby pointedly looked away.
"I'm going to find Hiratsuka-sensei," Hayama said, heading downstairs.
"What about us?" Hachiman asked Shiro quietly.
"How about a tour of your clubroom?"
Entering the Service Club for the first time, Shiro noted it was practically empty. Aside from the sign on the door, there was nothing to suggest it was a club. The desks had been moved to the barricades. It was just a storage room with a few boxes, a folding table, and some stacked chairs.
Shiro sat in the chair that usually belonged to Yukino. Hachiman took his usual spot opposite him. Yukino frowned at her occupied seat, then pulled over a spare chair. After what had just happened, her opinion of Shiro had shifted.
"So tired..." Shiro leaned back, staring at the white ceiling.
"Tell me about it..." Hachiman sprawled in his chair, exhausted by his friend's stubbornness.
"Are we done for now?" Hachiman asked. He just wanted to go back to his own space, where no one bothered him.
"We can't rest yet."
"?" Hachiman bolted upright. "What now? What else are you dragging me into?" He pointedly didn't include Yukino in the "us."
"Tell me," Hachiman pressed. He knew Shiro too well. If Shiro was involving him, it was big.
Shiro didn't waste time. "I saw injured students among the crowd we let in."
Hachiman's brow furrowed. "I saw them too."
"Then we aren't safe yet."
"Right. Those people will turn eventually," Hachiman agreed.
Shiro made a gesture for him to stay calm. "Don't worry. This time, we won't have to be the ones on the front line."
"Explain." Hachiman didn't trust him for a second.
"Hachiman, do you know how we take control of Sobu High?"
"!!!" Hachiman stared. "Control? That's where we're going?"
"I'm out." Hachiman stood up to leave.
"You want to go home? How do you plan to stay safe on the way?"
Hachiman paused, let out a thoughtful huff, and sat back down heavily. "What's your plan?"
"I..."
Ring! Ring-ring-ring!
Shiro's phone suddenly blared. He pulled it out. The caller ID read: Kasumigaoka Utaha.
He tapped the answer button and put it to his ear. "Excuse me, I need to take this."
"Hello?" Utaha's voice came through, sounding uncharacteristically frantic.
"I'm here."
"Shiro-kun... my school... everyone is collapsing." Her breathing was shallow, betraying her terror. She was crouching in the back of her classroom, hidden as she made the call.
Usually, she would have assumed it was food poisoning, but after Shiro's warning yesterday, she had been on high alert.
"It's happening here too," Shiro said.
"It's at your school too?!"
"Listen to me, Utaha. It's not an accident. I've confirmed it—they're zombies. The people who collapsed are the primary infected. Once the virus replicates, they will turn."
"Zombies?!" Utaha whispered harshly, but she wasn't alone.
"Zombies?!" someone nearby shrieked.
The classroom fell silent. Every eye turned toward the source—the back of the room where Utaha, the beautiful genius of Toyogasaki, was huddled. Her dark blue sailor uniform, signature black tights, and white headband made her the center of attention even now.
"What's happening?" Shiro asked, hearing the silence over the line.
"Nothing. It's fine," Utaha said, regaining her composure.
THUD.
A boy nearby instinctively shoved a collapsed classmate away. The tension in the room snapped. Students began to scramble away from the "fainted" bodies. It was like a single snowflake starting an avalanche. The boys were paralyzed, but a group of girls who were usually friendly with Utaha crowded around her, desperate to hear what was being said on the phone.
"Sigh." Utaha looked at the girls. They were looking at her with wide, pleading eyes. This wasn't the time for gossip.
"Shiro... tell me what to do."
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