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[Shintoko Academy grounds]

Bang! The sharp, unmistakable sound of a gunshot was heard from the distance, abruptly halting Takashi in his tracks. The noise seemed to come from one of the school buildings, and its suddenness sent a jolt of apprehension through him.

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'What the hell was that?' Takashi's thoughts raced as he weighed his options. 'Should I go back and check? But... I'm almost there.' He wrestled with the decision, acutely aware that every second counted. The school's sprawling layout meant that doubling back would cost him precious minutes.

With a mental sigh, he hoped fervently that those that came with him were safe.

Takashi continued forward with cautious steps, the sound of the gunshot still lingering in his mind. As he neared the gymnasium door, his eyes caught sight of two small figures. They were frantically clawing at the entrance.

They were two deceased children, their movements unnaturally jerky and unsettling. Takashi's heart raced as he processed the scene.

Gripping the bat tightly in one hand and the small pistol he had acquired from the place of Shizuka's friend in the other hand, he steeled himself. Determination set in his eyes, he advanced towards the door. Every step was measured, a mix of caution and resolve fueling his movements. He knew what he had to do, even if it pained him. The gymnasium was just ahead, and he couldn't let anything, not even the haunting sight before him, stop him from reaching his destination.

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His lips pursed together as he let out a sharp high-pitched sound. With a quick whistle, it instantly alerted the two dead children.

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Their heads snapped towards the sound, and in an unnaturally swift motion, they charged toward Takashi. Despite their small stature and eaten appearance, they moved at a faster pace.

It was no problem for Takashi as his movements were calm and precise despite the adrenaline coursing through him. He fired the pistol at one of the attackers, aiming for a clean shot. The bullet struck its knee, not a perfect hit, but enough to send it tumbling to the ground. As the other lunged at him, Takashi's instincts took over, and he swung his bat with force, knocking it back just in time.

With the child now lying on the ground from the hit, Takashi didn't hesitate and took the opportunity as he raised his pistol and delivered a final, decisive head shot.

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Bang! The sound reverberated around as he then tucked in the gun into his pockets, marking the end of the brief but intense skirmish. Takashi relaxed his tense posture, allowing himself a moment to breathe in the sudden quiet environment. The reality of what he had just done weighed heavily on him.

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'That gunshot will certainly attract more of them. It doesn't matter, I'll face them all.' he thought grimly, steeling himself for the next wave of danger.

But his contemplation was abruptly cut short by a raspy growl. The second child, the one he had shot in the knee, was now dragging itself across the floor, its leg rendered useless. Takashi readied himself once again, his resolve unwavering in the face of this relentless threat.

As the child zombie crawled towards him, Takashi made a decisive move. With a hardened expression, he stepped forward, resolving to end this grim encounter.

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His boot came down hard on the child's head with a forceful stomp. Yet, the creature continued to move. Without pausing, Takashi repeated the action, each stomp a grim necessity in this brutal world. Slam! Slam! Slam!

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The sounds of the struggle echoed a harsh symphony of survival. Takashi's breaths became heavier with each exertion.

Finally, after trampling on his target, the child lay unmoving, its head crushed beyond recognition on the pavement. Takashi stopped and was panting heavily from the effort. The silence that followed was oppressive.

A brief, rueful chuckle escaped Takashi's lips. "That store clerk made it look so easy.' he muttered, his mind flashing back to a memory of the entity effortlessly dealing with a similar situation. The ease with which the entity had delivered a single, firm stomp to shatter a hard skull was in stark contrast to his own grueling effort.

The comparison lingered in his mind as he regained his composure. He couldn't help but feel a mix of admiration and a tinge of envy for the entity's apparent skill and strength.

Takashi cast a lingering glance at the gymnasium door, piecing together the clues in his mind. 'The frantic clawing from earlier... shows that there are survivors inside.' he deduced, his gaze sharpening with this realization. Now standing in front of the door, he contemplated his next move.

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With a cautious, deliberate motion, he raised his hand to knock, ready to make contact. But just as his knuckles neared the door, a click resounded in the air.

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The unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked froze him in his tracks. It came from behind, a chilling reminder that danger in this world was never far away. Takashi's heart raced, and a cold wave of apprehension washed over him. Every instinct screamed that he was now in the crosshairs of an unseen assailant.

The commanding, manly voice cut through the tense atmosphere, dictating Takashi's next actions with an air of undeniable authority. "If I were you, I'd drop whatever's in my hand, raise both arms up, then turn around slowly."

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Takashi exhaled a silent, internal sigh, recognizing the precariousness of his situation. With a reluctant but controlled movement, he let the bat fall to the ground with a clanking noise.

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The idea of catching his unknown captor off guard lingered in his mind, a risky but potentially a life saving move. He knew he had to bide his time, wait for the right moment, if it came at all. His arms rose slowly, showing his compliance, while his mind raced with plans and possibilities.

"Your gun too. You think all that noise you caused was just from a bat? Empty your pockets, now. " the commanding voice demanded.

Realizing that any sudden move could escalate the situation dangerously, Takashi decided to not waste as much time as possible, his thought-out plan was now useless. He carefully lowered one hand, reaching slowly for the gun strapped in his pocket. With a steady hand, he removed it, ensuring his movements were clear and non-threatening.

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It fell to the ground with a thud. As Takashi slowly turned, the faces of his captors came into view. With each incremental movement, his eyes widened in disbelief. What he saw was beyond anything he could have anticipated.

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"Takashi?" Voiced the man holding the gun. The tone was one of surprise, tinged with a recognition that seemed to resonate deeply.

The man behind the gunman was equally stunned, "Masaru, is that..." he trailed off, unable to fully articulate his shock.

The realization hit Takashi like a wave. "Oto-san..." he whispered, barely audible. The man in front of him, the one who had just moments ago held him at gunpoint, was his own father.

His father, equally shaken, slowly lowered the gun, his eyes searching Takashi's face, seeking confirmation. The tension in the air began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of surreal reunion.

"Just where-" His father's voice trailed off, heavy with unspoken emotions and the burden of grim expectations. Before he could finish, Takashi closed the distance between them in a few quick strides, enveloping his father in a sudden, heartfelt embrace.

The initial shock of the hug was soon replaced by a shared sense of relief. Takashi's lingering hope, the faint yet persistent belief that one of his parents might have survived, was finally realized in this embrace. His father returned the hug with equal intensity.

After a moment, they slowly disentangled from the hug. Takashi took a step back, his eyes scanning his father's face and uniform more closely. The uniform, a symbol of order and protection, now bore the marks of the chaos that had engulfed their world. The bloodstains were a stark reminder of the struggles and dangers his father must have faced.

"It's good to see you too." Takashi chuckled. The sound was light, but it carried the weight of countless unasked questions and untold stories.

His father offered a weary, yet genuine smile. "You have no idea what I've gone through to find you, son." he replied with a chuckle at the end.

"Takashi. " the man standing behind his father spoke up. The sound of his voice tugged at Takashi's memory, evoking a sense of familiarity. However, the man's head was angled slightly downwards, obscuring most of his face and adding to the mystery of his identity.

Takashi noticed the man's attire, it was like his father's police uniform, but with the addition of a detective's coat draped over it. The coat, like his father's uniform, bore the stains of hardship and conflict.

As the man hesitated, a palpable tension filled the air, heightening the sense of anticipation. "Have you seen… " he began, his voice trailing off momentarily. Then, with a certain gravity, he uttered the name. "Rei?"

The mention of that one name, Rei.  solidified Takashi's suspicions. 'There's no doubt about it,' he thought, piecing together the clues. A police officer who was inquiring about Rei could only be one person, her father, Mr. Miyamoto.

Takashi's face softened into a smile, one meant to convey reassurance and comfort. "She's in good hands, Mr. Miyamoto," he said, his voice steady and warm. "She and a group of people are heading to the Takagi estates."

The relief that washed over Mr. Miyamoto's face was palpable. His eyes, which had held a tense mixture of worry and hope, now showed a glimmer of gratitude and reassurance. He nodded slowly, absorbing the news of his daughter's safety, a burden visibly lifting from his shoulders.

Masaru, Takashi's father, placed a hand on Mr. Miyamoto's shoulder, offering silent support. The bond between the two men, united by their profession and now their shared concern for their children, was evident.

"Now the question is, what are you guys doing here?" Takashi asked, his curiosity piqued as he noticed Mr. Miyamoto clutching two plastic bags heavy with supplies.

"Same as you," his father responded with a light chuckle, the tension easing slightly in the air. "You came looking for her?" He eyed his son, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Is she..." Takashi began, his voice trailing off. The implication of their presence here, coupled with the supplies they were carrying, sparked a flicker of hope within him. Was it possible that she was here, alive and well, in the gymnasium?

"You might want to wait and find out. " his father teased, the smile on his face growing a bit wider. That elicited a resigned sigh from Mr.Miyamoto.

"Well done, Masaru. You basically just told him that she's alive and well," Mr. Miyamoto said, a hint of amusement in his voice, "Anyways, knock on the door and let them know we're here."

Takashi's heart raced at the prospect of being reunited with his mother. He went to pick up his bat and the dropped gun. Then he watched as his father stepped forward to announce their arrival, the gymnasium door standing as the final barrier between him and the answers he so desperately sought.

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The sound of knocking reverberated against the gymnasium door. "We're here, we've brought supplies." Masaru announced, his voice steady and clear. A few tense seconds passed in silence before the audible sound of a lock being disengaged broke the stillness.

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Click. As the door slid open, the figure who appeared was not who they had expected. Masaru's brow furrowed in surprise. "Where-" he began to ask, but he was swiftly interrupted.

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"She went to the restroom. She should come out at any moment now." the woman interjected. Her voice was calm and carried an air of authority. She was a striking figure, with long brunette hair cascading over the shoulders of her open lab coat. Underneath, she wore a soft green turtleneck sweater that contrasted sharply with her beige tight pants. A pair of glasses framed her intelligent eyes, adding to her scholarly appearance.

The woman gestured for them to enter, her expression changing from composed to one of surprise as her eyes landed on Takashi.

"Is that who I think it is?" she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Takashi's father responded with a light chuckle. "She'll be very surprised to see him, that's for sure." he said, a hint of amusement in his tone, knowing the emotional impact Takashi's presence would have.

The woman let out a small sigh. "Alright, just leave the supplies on the table. We'll call everyone to eat later." she instructed, her tone efficient and practical.

Stepping inside, Takashi took a moment to survey his surroundings. The gymnasium was spacious, larger than any P.E. court he’d ever seen. 'This is much larger than I expected,' he thought, absorbing the grand scale of the space. He knew his mother worked at a prestigious school, but this was ridiculous.

In the distance, he noticed people scattered across the place. The group was small, composed mostly of teachers, parents, and children ranging in age from 6 to 14 years old. The atmosphere was a blend of quiet resilience and subdued activity, each person absorbed in their own thoughts or small tasks.

Takashi's gaze moved across the room, taking in the faces and the makeshift living arrangements that had been set up. This place, which once echoed with the sounds of sports and cheers, now served as a sanctuary for those seeking refuge.

As Takashi's father and Mr. Miyamoto moved away to leave the supplies on the table, the woman who had opened the door stepped closer to Takashi.

"Fujimi High School, huh?" she said, a tired but genuine smile spreading across her face. "Your mother told me a lot about you."

Takashi, feeling a bit self-conscious, replied with a light chuckle, "Positive stuff, I hope." He scratched his head, trying to maintain a casual demeanor despite the unexpected attention.

She let out a soft laugh, her eyes brightening for a moment. "Well, actually, it's quite the opposite. She always seemed to compare you to a favorite student of hers. Want to know the things she said?" The smirk on her face was playful.

Takashi let out a small sigh, "I'm good, I think I've got an idea of what she might have said. " he responded.

The woman's expression shifted to one of weariness mixed with concern after a brief pause in their conversation. "Were there any survivors?" she asked, her voice carrying the weight of someone who had seen too much yet still held onto hope.

Takashi nodded, "Yes, there were survivors. We started off as a group, but things forced us to split up. Those who arrived with me shared that they, too, had to disband. Apparently, a teacher assumed the role of a leader, drawing people under his wing with promises that turned out to be false hopes."

The woman's question was specific, her tone imbued with a quiet urgency. "Among those in your group, before you disbanded, was there a girl with shoulder-length brown hair who wore glasses? She should be a year younger than you," she inquired.

Takashi paused, realizing the significance of her question. He sifted through his memories, trying to recall if anyone fitting that description had been part of their group. After a moment of contemplation, he nodded slowly. "There actually was someone like that," he confirmed, his voice tinged with realization. "She was with us at first, but she chose to leave with another group, presumably her friends that split off from us. She didn't mention where she was headed, though."

The woman's expression shifted subtly, concern crossing her features. It was clear that the girl Takashi mentioned held some importance to her.

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The sudden sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the gymnasium, growing louder and more urgent with each passing second.

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Takashi instinctively turned towards the source of the noise, only to find himself suddenly enveloped in a tight embrace. The person holding him was overwhelmed with emotion, her voice quivering as she spoke.

"You're alive! You don't know how worried I was," she sobbed softly, her relief palpable as she clung to Takashi. The warmth and familiarity of the embrace cut through his initial surprise, triggering a flood of emotions.

"O- Oka-san..." Takashi managed to utter, his voice choked with emotion. The realization that he was in his mother's arms, that she was here and safe, filled him with a sense of relief and joy he hadn't felt in what seemed like an eternity.

His mother pulled back slightly to look at him, her eyes brimming with tears of happiness. Her face, a mix of worry and love, bore the signs of the challenges she had endured. Yet, in this moment, all that mattered was their reunion.

The tender moment between mother and son was abruptly transformed as his mother's expression morphed into one of anger. Her relief at seeing him safe quickly turned into frustration.

"You idiot! Can't you at least call back?! I called you over 20 times, you dolt!" she exclaimed, her voice rising in volume. She began to pinch and pull at his ears, her actions punctuating each word with a mix of annoyance and concern.

"WHAT'S THE USE OF BUYING YOU A PHONE IF YOU DON'T USE IT IN URGENT MATTERS!" she continued, her scolding intensifying.

Takashi winced, both from the physical discomfort and the guilt of causing his mother such worry. "I forgot, AH OW, I forgot to bring it with me!" he managed to say, trying to free himself from the painful ear-tugging.

Takashi's father stepped in, his voice calm yet firm, effectively diffusing the escalating tension. "That's enough, Yuko. I think the boy knows what he did wrong," he said, gently intervening in the mother-son exchange.

Yuko, Takashi's mother, let out an exasperated sigh, her hands finally releasing their grip on Takashi's ears. Her eyes, still filled with the fire of maternal concern, bore into him. "One more dumb mistake like that, and you'll receive a hell of a beating. You hear me, mister?" she warned, her tone serious yet tinged with relief.

Takashi nodded quickly. "Y-yes, no more dumb mistakes."

The conversation shifted from familial reunion to the pressing matter of their survival. Mr. Miyamoto broached the subject. "Now that's done and over with, what's our next step? The food supply in the cafeteria won’t last long, just so you know."

The woman in the lab coat chimed in with a suggestion, "We can stay here for a couple of days, see how things pan out. After that, we should scout for any military-made shelters."

Yuko, nodding in agreement, added, "Kanae is right. We need to stay put for now and keep an eye out for any nearby shelter."

Takashi's father exhaled a weary sigh, his experience as a police officer lending him a realistic perspective. "That's a possibility but finding a safe shelter could take a while. The closest one was in the west district, but that got breached recently, so it’s no longer safe."

As the group continued their discussion, Takashi withdrew into his own thoughts, contemplating how he could contribute to their survival. The conversation around him became a distant hum, providing a backdrop to his intense focus.

'He's right, the west area isn’t safe anymore. Maybe heading to the Takagi estates could be an option, but first, we'd need to scout it out, then return here to confirm the situation. It’s a lengthy process, but it will be one of our options,' he thought, weighing the risks and logistics of such a move.

Lost in contemplation, a memory suddenly surfaced in his mind. "The gas station..." he muttered under his breath, not realizing he had spoken aloud.

Mr. Miyamoto, ever attentive, picked up on Takashi's quiet utterance. "You said something, Takashi?" he asked, turning towards the teen.

Takashi hesitated for a moment before responding, "I think I know of a place." His voice trailed off as he revisited the thought in his mind.

'But that gas station is a bit far. If only it was nearby, that would’ve been convenient. It's one of the options that we can consider.' he sighed internally. His mind conjured up the image of the abnormal Market he had visited, a place that seemed like a potential haven in these desperate times.

"And where would that be." Mr. Miyamoto said, awaiting the teen's reply.

Just as Takashi was about to voice his thoughts and share his tentative plans with the group, an unexpected and startling event abruptly shifted everyone's attention.

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A chorus of sharp gasps rang out, quickly followed by a wave of alarmed screams. Every pair of eyes in the gymnasium turned towards the center of the room.

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A door, seemingly out of nowhere, had materialized right in the middle of the gymnasium. It wasn't just any door, but one that exuded an aura of mystery and grandeur. The door was golden, its surface shimmering and catching the light in a way that was almost hypnotic. Emblazoned on it was the symbol of a scale, intricately designed and imbued with an air of significance.

A sense of familiar unease washed over Takashi as he gazed at the golden door. 'This feeling... it's just like when I entered the store,' he thought, a mix of apprehension and curiosity stirring within him. 'Could it be?' His feet moved almost of their own accord, drawing him closer to the mysterious door.

"TAKASHI! THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!" His father's voice, laced with alarm, echoed through the gymnasium. Both he and Mr. Miyamoto had their guns trained on the door, ready to react at the first sign of danger. "GET THE HELL AWAY FROM THAT THING!" his father shouted, his concern palpable.

But Takashi, captivated by the door's mystic aura, continued to advance, ignoring the frantic calls of his father. The people around them reacted with a mix of fear and caution. Some sought refuge, hiding behind those with weapons, while others, ready to defend themselves, clutched their weapons tighter.

"TAKASHI! DON'T YOU DARE GET ANY CLOSER!" This time it was Yuko, his mother, who yelled out in desperation. Yet, Takashi's hand had already found its way to the doorknob, his fingers wrapping around it as he pulled the door open slightly. At that moment, Yuko rushed to his side, her hand firmly grasping his wrist in an attempt to halt his actions.

Yuko's glare at her son was a complex tapestry of emotions, predominantly worry, tinged with fear about the mysterious portal that had appeared so unexpectedly. "Wait,  This here, this could be a safe haven for all the survivors! Please, you have to let me go and get everyone in!" Takashi pleaded earnestly, his voice conveying his conviction that the door was a gateway to safety.

"Takashi! Listen to yourself! Have you lost your mind?!" Yuko's voice was thick with panic as she tried to pull him away from the anomaly, her maternal instinct to protect him overriding everything else.

"Please! This could be our only hope for survival!" Takashi implored, his belief in the potential of the doorway unwavering.

Masaru chose to approach and to assist in holding his son back but he was too late.

 With a sudden, forceful tug, he broke free from his mother's grasp. Stepping through the doorway, he was determined to prove to everyone that this was indeed a gateway to the Market, a place he believed could offer refuge.

"Wai-" Yuko's protest was cut short as Takashi closed the door firmly behind him, sealing himself inside the unknown.

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