//Day 0 | Location: Nameless Forest - ClearingThere were three things that humans were good at.
One, they could communicate. Their language was complex and diverse, capable of conveying commands, descriptions, and emotions with deceptive ease.
Two, they could throw. No other animal exists with as strong a throwing arm as a human being, whom at their best could throw a ball twice as fast as a cheetah could sprint.
Three, they could run. They were not fast, but they could certainly be consistent, their bodies tuned to manage energy and body heat, intake oxygen and conserve fluids, for days upon days.
But was it enough?
Duncan’s basketball, hurled with all the force he had in his bones, was only enough to draw the attention of the charging beast. The cranium protected the most important organ of one’s body, after all, and regardless of how hard the ball
felt, its buoyancy meant that all the force that it carried upon impact was just as likely to bounce back against it. And so, it did. It bounced away in a different direction, and the wolfbear charged onwards.
This would have been the time to break, to run, but in that moment, as all the boys considered the pros and cons of splitting versus running in a group, Asahi stood up. To say that the branch he held was on fire may have been generous. Its tip was charred and smoking, but a proper blaze had not yet ignited. This was no torch. This was just a stick. But on the other hand? Regardless of what he wielded, this was Asahi! If
he was willing to stand up…
“Yosh!” Daisuke roared, as if shouting down the fear.
“Let’s do it, basketball team! Hiroshi, Juro, get the girls outta here! The rest of y’all, we’ll take down at least one of them! C’mon, Kurosh-”A shadow shot past the blonde-haired jock, past the pink-haired socialite. In Kuroshio Ogata Middle, there were two people who distinguished themselves as true martial artists. There was Maki, of course, who practiced samba and would butt heads with anyone. But then, there was her neighbour, her rival from another dojo, another fighting style, another philosophy.
There was Bansen Sasuke.
The wolfbear lunged at him, and he fell back in turn, protecting the most vital parts of his body with his arms while simultaneously kicking upwards with his feet. Such beasts possessed strength that humans could not compare with, and if it had truly been the size of a bear, his gambit would have failed even with the principles of physics and leverage on his side. But here? Against a monster the size of a girthy deer?
It
flipped over Sasuke, slamming onto its back.
And in that stunned instant, Kunio acted first, his reflexes kicking in as he dove atop the beast, trying to pin down one of its limbs with his whole body. Yuki, snapping out of it, leapt into the fray as well, but now the monster itself was scrambling for purchase, trying to find its footing.
“Go go go! Dogpile it!” Someone was shouting that. Someone from a distance.
Of course, that someone was Akito.
But in the brilliance of Sasuke’s technique, in the vulnerability that one of the wolfbears showed, all the boys: Asahi, Duncan, Kunio, Sohei, Yuki, Sasuke, they all forgot that there had been another wolfbear charging at the students.
…
Ayana though, could see it.
Could see Shun doing the same thing that Asahi did, brandishing a burning stick as if it could do anything against such a monster. Her own shoes were returned to her at such speeds she couldn’t even see, but perhaps it was better too, because immediately after that, Tsubaki smacked her on the head.
“What the hell are you doing, Ayana-chan?” she snapped, pulling against her wrist.
“We need to run!”Of course they did. The situation with one wolfbear and six of the most athletic boys in their class could go south way too quickly. She could see her step-sister running with the crowd of other girls, could see Ayano dragging her boyfriend away with her even as Kogen called (quite rudely) for his help. This was the Otherside, this was the portal and its monsters. Weren’t they all just being stupid, trying to fight here, when none of them had anything close to resembling a weapon?!
And if the boys were being stupid, then Shun had to be even stupider, trying to do what Asahi did, but without any of the support he had!
The motor-enthusiast’s pile of dirt scattered against the face of the beast that ran at her, which prompted it only to close its eyes before reopening them, vision wholly undisturbed. Closer and closer it drew, and faster and faster it seemed. Four limbs to propel it forward, hooked claws to offer greater traction than any running shoe, and a body that contained more strength than what any human bodybuilder could aspire towards.
That was the nature of what she was going to face off against.
The possibility of death was high. The branch in her hands was slim, unreliable. Her mind was scrambling now, weighed down by the consequence of action and inaction, of a timing that her reaction speed could not handle.
Someone was going to die.
But if Yuudai had a choice, that wasn’t going to be Shun.
He came from a farmer’s family. His father always did what he could to make sure he grew up alright. He had older siblings to pick fights with, younger siblings to take care of. He had his dreams and his ambitions, his love for poetry and rice fields, for the salt sting of the ocean waves and the memories they all made on that summer day. And he knew that if
he let Shun draw the wolfbear away, if he chose to run instead of fight…everything that he gained in his short life would have been worth nothing.
So, the boy made his own choice.
An impact struck Shun from the side, knocking her inches away from the reach of the wolfbear’s claw. In that fraction of a frozen second, she caught a glimpse of Yuudai’s gaze, filled with a confused desperation. And then both boy and beast was gone, smashing through the window of the burning bus, trapped in an inferno that should have been hers to suffer.
A cry of pain. The stench of burning flesh and vaporizing blood.
Her heart, roaring like a motor.
…
The branch snapped, but before the wolfbear’s jaws could clamp onto her shoulder, Rin jammed her bag into its mouth. Nylon and polyethylene tore, but steel was made sturdier and the monster growled. Between the strange thing it was biting into and the rocks that bounced against its head, it had decided.
Enough was enough.
And Masato, desperate to drag Rin out, had a front-row seat to it all, as the wolfbear whipped its head back and
threw Rin twelve meters into the sky. The student council president felt a throbbing pain where his nail had torn off, but that pain was secondary to watching one of his classmates get flung into a tree with such force that trunk shoot. To watching her limp form hang off from branches of a ten-meter high tree, like a doll tossed away by an angry child.
Her bag of tools spilled out its contents. A rain of steel. Nuts and bolts, screwdrivers and clamps, the hammer and its nails.
Kogen’s words failed to find purchase. Every rock he threw, every iota of bravado he mustered, all of it didn’t change the inevitable. Rin was dead. No one could have survived that. And even if she did, all that awaited her was a fatal drop from the top of the tree to the bottom. Against the strength that the monster demonstrated, what did he hope to accomplish with a handful of rocks?
And though all this may have been a defining moment for the two boys, for the monster that stood before them? It was just food for later. It could shake that lump of meat down from the trees after, but there was prey to be hunted
now.
So it charged.
And so she did too.
“Listen to the dumbass!” Maki leapt up onto the wolfbear’s back, arms wrapping snake-like around its neck, legs locking around its torso best as she could.
“Run, Masato! GO!!”Her arms could not squeeze past fur and fat and muscle to choke out the beast. Her legs wouldn’t last long against the wild rampaging that the wolfbear did to try to shake her off. And Masato too, could see the purple splotches on her right ankle.
A consequence of hasty action that brought no meaningful results.
Rin could no longer run. Maki couldn’t either.
Only he could.
Would he?