The next morning broke gray and heavy. Clouds pressed low, smothering the sun, turning the city into a world of shadows and ash. The smell of last night's stew still lingered faintly in the cafeteria, but it mixed with the stink of burnt corpses that never seemed to leave the school grounds.

Riku woke before the others. He always did. The floor was hard under his back, the faint draft of broken windows creeping in. Rifle across his chest, he pushed himself upright without a sound. For a moment, he listened—no footsteps outside the walls, no moans, no gunfire. Only the distant creak of a ruined city settling into itself.

He slipped out into the yard. Survivors were already moving: two men hauling water buckets, a woman sweeping ash into piles, another checking the barricade's wire. They nodded at him but didn't speak. Riku liked it better that way.

Suzune stood on the rooftop watch, her silhouette sharp against the pale sky. She raised a hand in brief acknowledgement. Riku gave one back before starting his usual walk around the perimeter. He counted steps, noted weak spots, cataloged exits. He didn't trust this place, but he was learning its shape.

When he came back through the cafeteria doors, Hana was already awake. She rubbed her eyes, blanket dragging across the tiles as she shuffled toward Yui's cot. Yui's fever had broken further, her face no longer pale gray but flushed with fragile warmth. She smiled faintly at Hana's chatter. Kenji sat beside her, holding her hand like it was the last thread tying him to life.

Miko brought them water, crouching to check Yui's forehead. She sighed with relief. "Still down. That's good."

Kenji's eyes watered. "If not for you…" He trailed off, too choked to finish.

Riku watched from the doorway. He didn't interrupt.

Ichika was slower to wake. She dragged herself to the table with her usual scowl, muttering curses at the cracked tiles. "Another glorious day in the apocalypse," she grumbled, snatching a stale piece of bread left from last night.

"Eat slower," Suzune said as she entered, rifle slung.

"Why? Scared I'll choke before the shamblers get me?" Ichika shot back.

Suzune ignored her.

By midmorning, Sato called another meeting. The cafeteria once more became the room of decisions. Riku sat with his group, across from Sato and his lieutenants.

"The depot raid got us food," Sato began. His voice was calm, steady, like a man used to leading. "But it also left survivors. Raiders don't forget. They'll follow. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe a week. But they'll come."

A ripple of unease went through his people.

Riku said nothing. He already knew.

"We'll double the watch," Sato continued. "Reinforce the north barricade. If they hit, that's where they'll come first."

Riku leaned forward, voice flat. "They will hit. Question is how soon, and how hard."

Sato met his gaze. "Then we prepare. Together."

Suzune gave Riku the smallest nod. Miko's lips pressed tight, as if bracing herself. Ichika just sighed, rolling her eyes, though she didn't argue.

Kenji's hand rose timidly. "I can help. Carry. Hammer. Whatever you need."

One of Sato's lieutenants looked skeptical, but Sato nodded. "Work is work."

By noon, everyone had been set to tasks.

Riku spent the day walking the perimeter again, but this time with Sato at his side. The older man pointed out choke points, fallback spots, caches of fuel and ammo. Riku listened, memorizing. He offered no praise, no criticism, just questions:

"How many rifles?"

"Twenty-five working, with limited rounds."

"How much water?"

"Three weeks rationed."

"Escape routes?"

Sato hesitated before answering. "Two. Neither good."

That answer told Riku enough. If this place fell, it fell hard.

Suzune worked with the rooftop team, adjusting sightlines, making suggestions. At first, the other sharpshooter bristled, but after watching her drop a bottle at two hundred meters with one calm squeeze, he shut his mouth.

Miko stayed with the medics. She boiled rags, washed wounds, even forced herself to stitch a cut on a boy's arm when the others faltered. Her hands trembled, but she didn't stop. Yui watched from her cot, whispering encouragement.

Kenji hauled crates until his back bent, face dripping sweat. Nobody mocked him. Work was work.

Ichika hammered boards on the north barricade, muttering insults at the hammer every time she missed. By the end, her palms were blistered, but the wall stood stronger.

Hana played again with the other children, their laughter brief but real. The sound drew looks from tired survivors who hadn't heard joy in months.

That night, stew again. This time with actual beans and rice, richer than before. The cafeteria buzzed with low conversation.

Sato sat across from Riku. "You saw how they worked. They're survivors. Like you."

Riku's eyes stayed flat. "Until they aren't."

Sato smiled faintly, not offended. "That's the truth, isn't it?"

The second night came uneasy. Rain tapped against the windows, steady and cold. The air smelled of wet ash.

Riku took first watch, perched near the north barricade. Suzune relieved him halfway through. Miko tried to sleep beside Hana, but her eyes kept flicking to the door. Ichika muttered in dreams, clutching her walkie like a lifeline.

At dawn, a sound cut the silence.

Not moans. Not shuffling. Engines.

Riku snapped awake, rifle already in hand. He climbed the rooftop two steps at a time. Suzune was already there, scope raised, jaw clenched.

On the horizon, shapes moved. Trucks. Motorbikes. Raiders.

They were coming.

Sato appeared beside them, face grim. "They found us faster than I hoped."

"How many?" Riku asked.

"Two trucks. Maybe thirty men."

Riku scanned the roads, eyes narrowing. "Not a swarm. A strike team."

Suzune adjusted her scope. "Enough to crack us if we're sloppy."

Sato shouted orders. Survivors scrambled—rifles to the barricade, spears ready, fuel poured into bottles. The school stirred with frantic energy.

Miko and the medics rushed to move the sick deeper into the halls. Hana clung to Yui's hand, eyes wide with fear. Kenji hovered helplessly until Riku grabbed him by the collar.

"Stay with them. Don't let them near the windows."

Kenji nodded, face pale.

Ichika loaded her rifle, muttering curses. "Guess resting's over."

Riku set himself at the north barricade, rifle steady. Suzune crouched beside him, calm as always. Sato stood at the center, voice sharp, steady.

Engines grew louder. Tires crunched broken glass. Raiders whooped and shouted, firing into the air as they closed.

"Hold!" Sato barked.

Riku's voice cut through, low but hard. "Wait until they're in range. Don't waste rounds."

The raiders came into sight. A pickup truck with steel plates welded to the sides. Motorbikes weaving ahead. Men with rifles, bats, chains. Their laughter carried like knives.

The first shots cracked. Suzune dropped a biker clean off his seat. Riku's round punched through another's chest. The pickup swerved, bullets sparking off the barricade. Survivors answered with a ragged volley.

The fight began.

The barricade shook under the first impact. Raiders slammed bikes into the wire, trying to rip gaps. Molotovs arced, flames licking the wood. Survivors doused them with buckets of water, screaming curses.

Riku fired calm, measured shots. One. Two. Three. Each hit dropped a man. Suzune matched his rhythm. Together, they slowed the charge.

But numbers pressed heavy.

The pickup rammed the gate, metal screeching. Survivors jammed poles against it, straining to hold. Raiders leaned out, firing wild bursts. One man on the wall cried out, blood spraying.

Sato dragged him back, shouting for another to take his place.

Ichika swore loudly, firing until her magazine clicked empty. "They're pushing too hard!"

"Reload!" Riku snapped.

She fumbled, hands shaking, but obeyed.

From the rooftop, a woman shouted, "Second truck! Coming from the east!"

Riku's gut clenched. "They're splitting us."

Sato barked new orders, shifting fighters east. The barricade groaned again under the pickup's weight.

Riku vaulted up the ladder to the rooftop. Suzune followed. They lined up shots on the second truck, picking off men in the bed before they reached the wall.

"Two more down!" Suzune called.

"Not enough," Riku growled.

The truck slammed into the east barricade, wood snapping, wire tearing. Raiders poured forward with wild screams. Survivors met them with spears and bats, the clash brutal and bloody.

Miko's voice echoed from below, panicked. "They're inside!"

Riku's jaw locked. He fired twice more, then shouted, "Fall back to the courtyard! Funnel them in!"

Sato caught the command and roared it himself. Survivors pulled back in ragged order, drawing raiders deeper. The school became a maze of choke points, desks and wire forcing narrow lanes.

Riku dropped from the rooftop, boots hitting hard. Rifle in one hand, knife in the other, he met the first raider through the barricade with a blade across the throat. Suzune fired over his shoulder, dropping another before he could swing his bat.

Ichika shouted from behind a stack of desks, "This is insane!"

"Welcome to survival," Riku barked back.

The fight raged. Raiders spilled into the halls, their yells clashing with the screams of survivors. Shots echoed, flames spread, blood smeared the walls.

In the cafeteria, Hana clutched Yui under the table while Kenji stood guard with a broken pipe, shaking but determined.

Miko tore strips of cloth, pressing them against wounds as bodies stumbled back from the line.

Riku fought like a machine. Calm. Brutal. No wasted movement. Every bullet a kill, every strike a finish. Suzune matched him, her rifle barking steady, controlled.

The raiders hadn't expected this much resistance. Their charge slowed. Their shouts grew strained. When the second pickup caught fire from a Molotov and exploded, the tide shifted.

Sato bellowed, "Push them back!"

Survivors surged. Raiders broke. Some ran, dragging wounded. Others fought to the last and fell under the steel and fire.

Minutes stretched like hours. Then, silence.

The school stood. Barely.

The barricades were scarred, the halls bloodied, but the raiders were gone. Survivors slumped against walls, panting, bleeding, alive.

Riku stood in the yard, chest heaving, rifle smoking. Suzune beside him, eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of return.

Sato limped forward, gripping his side. "We held."

Riku wiped blood from his knife. "They'll be back. Stronger."

Sato's gaze hardened. "Then we'll be ready."

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