The weather on the rooftop was perfect, Kuroda Osamu thought as he leaned back against the edge of the wall, enjoying the soft breeze that caressed his face. This secluded spot was a refuge few knew about, and the tranquility that reigned there made him feel as if the world had been left behind.
"Why didn't I know about this place before?" he wondered aloud, his gaze lost in the horizon, savoring the view and the absolute silence that only the rooftop could offer.
However, the calm was short-lived. A strange sound, an unmistakable creak, shattered the stillness of the moment. At first, he thought it might be the wind moving something, but the next instant, the noise intensified, followed by unmistakable sounds of screaming. Screams, agonizing and horrific. The feeling of unease grew in his chest, and something inside him warned him that something was terribly wrong.
Osamu shot up, breathing deeply, and without thinking too much, he walked toward the edge of the rooftop. From there, he could see the main entrance of the school, just below, through broken windows and flickering lights. What he saw made his blood run cold.
At the threshold of the door, chaos was absolute. His classmates, those he knew, were now engulfed in a primitive struggle, a whirlwind of fallen and mutilated bodies. But it wasn't a normal fight. No. What Osamu saw was much worse. People weren't just fighting each other; they were tearing each other apart, literally ripping off pieces of flesh and skin. Blood splattered everywhere, and the air was thick with the nauseating stench of decaying meat.
Osamu took a step back, fear invading every corner of his being. What the hell was happening? Confusion overtook him, and for a moment, he stood paralyzed, unable to move a muscle. But something inside him, a primal instinct, urged him to act. He needed to get out of there. He needed to understand.
Without thinking, he began running toward the stairs. The nightmare he had witnessed at the entrance was enough to understand what was happening. It couldn't be, but the noises surrounding him, the screams from the lower floors, confirmed it: he was in the middle of an attack by… zombies?
The stairs echoed with his hurried steps, and every scream he heard pushed him to move faster, without stopping, without thinking. He reached the first floor and, peeking around a hallway, saw what he didn't want to see. A boy from his class, someone he knew, was stumbling toward him, with wide, crazed eyes and decomposing skin, as if rotting alive. His mouth, covered in blood, dripped with every movement, and his teeth, irregular and sharp, showed with hunger.
"So I was right…" Osamu murmured, his voice hoarse and full of disbelief.
The boy let out a guttural growl, and before Osamu could react, the monster lunged at him with terrifying speed.
Osamu didn't have time to think. The creature—his classmate, now a monster—was already too close. Its putrid breath reached his face, and with a desperate lunge, Osamu dove to the side, narrowly avoiding the zombified boy. The monster growled and, with clumsy movements, tried to turn to continue its hunt. But Osamu was no longer there.
The hallway had turned into a trap. With every second, the sound of dragging footsteps and guttural growls filled the air, coming from all directions. Osamu knew he couldn't run much longer. He couldn't keep fleeing aimlessly, without a plan.
He turned right, ran a few meters, and found more of them. The zombies, those horrifying reflections of what were once humans, blocked the exit. In front of him, one advanced slowly, its jaw hanging, its arms extended, while others began to approach from behind. The corridor had no way out.
"Dammit!" Osamu shouted, his breath heavy and his heart pounding like a drum in his chest.
He was trapped. Adrenaline surged, but fear paralyzed him. His mind screamed in panic, but his legs, though tired, kept moving. He had no other choice. The infirmary was nearby, and the door was open, though still empty, offering the only chance for salvation.
With a leap, Osamu ran toward the infirmary door, just barely being brushed by a hand that stretched out from a zombie trying to reach him. He felt an icy chill crawl over his body as it brushed against the creature's skin. Without thinking, he shoved the door with all his strength and entered the dark refuge.
The infirmary was unusually quiet. There was no noise, just a heavy silence that contrasted starkly with the clamor and chaos unfolding outside its walls. Osamu, panting from the run, couldn't help but wonder why this place was untouched. How could it be that there was no trace of the nightmare that had started just minutes ago? Outside, the world had turned into hell, but here… here it seemed as if nothing had changed.
"Shit, I need to think about what to do…" he muttered softly, running his hand through his long hair, trying to calm his racing breath. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and his mind was spinning in a whirlwind of chaos. He needed to do something. Not just to survive, but to protect himself. It was clear he couldn't stay here for long, but he also knew that escaping without a plan would only lead him straight to the abyss.
The sound of his voice echoed in the empty space, as if the place were a silent trap, waiting to catch him. As he moved through the room, he pulled a piece of cloth from his backpack to tie his hair back, realizing how uncomfortable it was to have it loose while running. He needed to focus, stop thinking about what he had seen. He needed clarity.
Determined, Osamu approached the door and locked it. He secured the entrance with a chair, pushing it against the doorknob to block it. "If they're like in the movies," he thought, "they shouldn't be able to open doors." For a brief moment, that small victory gave him some hope. Maybe it wouldn't be enough to protect him from the apocalypse, but at least, for a few minutes, he would be safe.
But then, the silence of the infirmary enveloped him. For a moment, Osamu thought he had been wrong. The calm seemed unshakable, and despite everything happening outside, it felt like nothing had changed in here. It was a breath, yes, but a tense one, filled with a strange stillness. Osamu sat down, recovering his strength, but something inside him remained alarmed. Something was wrong.
He approached one of the nearby beds, covered with white curtains. He thought about checking quickly, but not hearing anything unusual, he let his guard down slightly. "Maybe it's not so dangerous after all," he thought, though he knew he shouldn't let his guard down.
Then he saw it.
"Nino?" he asked quietly, almost not believing it. His eyes widened in disbelief as he saw one of his classmates, Nino, lying peacefully on the bed. Her features were relaxed, as if she were in a deep sleep, completely unaware of the horror unfolding outside the infirmary.
Osamu couldn't believe what he was seeing. Beside her, four other girls were also asleep, each in their own bed. They were Nino's sisters, the quintuplets who had become his friends since transferring to the school. They were all there, lying down as if nothing had happened.
"How…?" he whispered, horrified. "How can they sleep like that when everything outside is chaos?"
Incredulity took over him. The scene was surreal, an absolute contradiction. The girls, those girls he knew so well, so alive, so full of energy, were now there, lying in a deep sleep, completely oblivious to the tragedy crumbling the world outside. He didn't understand how they could be so calm when he was on the edge of collapse, struggling to understand what was happening.
The question that had been haunting him since it all began—why?—grew stronger. Why were they asleep? Why didn't they wake up, at least from fear, from danger? The answer was clear, though terrifying: they didn't know what was going on.
But for Osamu, this revelation meant a new problem. Not only did he have to think about how to survive himself, but now he had to protect them. All of them. He couldn't leave them here. If the zombies reached them, he could never forgive himself.
Terror gripped him again, but this time, the anguish was replaced by an urgent need for action.
"I can't leave them here. I can't leave them…" he muttered, his teeth clenched, looking at the sleeping quintuplets with a mix of desperation and fierce protectiveness. "I'm going to get them out of here, no matter what."
But how? How was he going to do that? How was he going to leave the infirmary without alerting the undead?
Osamu approached the window, his mind working on a plan. He had to find a way to wake them up without scaring them. He had to do something before everything collapsed completely.
Outside, the screams continued to echo. The world was no longer the same. And now, more than ever, he had to be more than just a spectator.