Chabashira-sensei's voice trembled as she called out to me. "W-wait, Ayanokoji-kun, where are you going?"
I did not spare her a glance, my feet already carrying me towards the exit. My classmates watched on, their expressions a mix of confusion and trepidation. Only Koenji seemed to grasp the gravity of the situation, rising from his seat and silently following in my wake.
"W-well, um, let us just end this for today," Chabashira-sensei stammered, her attempt at composure betrayed by the quiver in her words. "There are no more classes for a whole month from now on. The next school day starts next month. You're all dismissed."
My classmates erupted into a chorus of relieved murmurs, their fear momentarily overshadowed by the prospect of an extended vacation. Fools, their ignorance would be their undoing.
As the class dispersed, Chabashira-sensei remained at her desk, her brow furrowed with evident concern. She must have sensed the magnitude of the crisis unfolding, the potential for the school year to be irrevocably disrupted.
Alone in my dorm room, I took stock of my situation, cataloging the supplies I had on hand. Food, at least enough to sustain me for a week, perhaps two if rationed carefully. But that would not be enough, not in the face of the apocalypse that was to come.
I knew what was to happen, the horrors that would soon engulf us all. This was no mere crisis, but the harbinger of a new, dreadful reality. And I would need to be prepared, for the world as we knew it was about to come crashing down.
As I surveyed the situation from my dorm room, I let out a resigned sigh. "Such a predicament," I muttered under my breath.
Quickly, I retrieved a small knife, one that could be easily concealed beneath the folds of my blazer. A measure of protection, however meager, against the horrors that were to come.
Locking my door behind me, I stepped out to assess the situation on campus. From this vantage point, I could not discern the full extent of the crisis unfolding, but I could see the reactions of my fellow students. Some were confused, others elated at the prospect of an extended vacation. Yet a select few wore expressions of suspicion, their instincts sensing the gravity of the situation.
I made my way towards the convenience store, intent on procuring the necessary supplies to weather the coming storm. The government may yet intervene, I reasoned, and if they could secure the island, then I would have ample provisions to sustain myself and potentially others.
As I exited the convenience store, my arms laden with supplies, I encountered a sight that chilled me to the core. Shambling towards me was a police officer, his uniform stained with blood, a ghastly red bite mark marring his left hand. His eyes had turned a sickly, milky white, and he moved with a disturbing, jerking gait.
Realizing that the announcement of the campus being a safe haven was a blatant lie, I quickly reached into my blazer and retrieved the small knife I had concealed. Gripping the handle tightly, I took a defensive stance, the blade turned backward, ready to strike if necessary.
The infected officer took notice of me and lunged forward with startling speed, its strength seemingly amplified by the infection. I grabbed its collar and rolled onto my back, kicking it forcefully in the stomach, causing it to stumble backward.
Regaining my footing, I shifted my grip on the knife, holding it in a forward-facing position. The infected officer regained its balance and approached me once more. In a split second, I lashed out, the blade slicing cleanly through its neck.
The infected's neck gave way with a sickening crunch, blood spraying forth in a crimson torrent that splattered across my face. Hastily, I wiped the viscous fluid from my eyes with a trembling hand, the handkerchief in my pocket offering little solace against the horror that now surrounded me.
