High School of the Dead + One

「Sixteen Dead」

The sun was hiding behind the clouds, like it was afraid of what was about to happen.

Hisashi watched the white-haired girl carefully, unsure if she could actually do it. "Yuk, I can—"

"No," Yuki said, shaking her head. "I have to do it."

But even so, her voice shook.

It'd taken fourteen-year-old Yuki almost a week to get the courage to come this far and, even now, she didn't think she could do it. What was she going to do if he wouldn't let her leave? What if Hisashi got involved? What would she tell Rei and Takashi if Hisashi was hurt? She shuddered at just the idea—never mind if it actually happened—but they were the whole reason she was here: if she wanted to have real friendships, if she wanted to be able to stand on the same ground as Takashi, she had to leave this house. It wasn't a matter of choice anymore; this was the best thing so she could continue being with Hisashi, Takashi, Morita, and Rei. This was the only way she could be with her friends without worrying about them getting hurt.

"I'm here with you," Hisashi murmured, putting his hand on her shoulder. "I'll be right here the entire time."

That's the problem, she thought bitterly, even if she knew there was no way she'd be able to do this without him.

She took a deep breath, trying to center herself, willing herself not to be so afraid.

With a shaky hand, she opened the door.

The smell of cigarettes and alcohol was thick in the air, almost suffocating. Hisashi coughed a little, but Yuki was too used to it, inching her way to the living room.

He sat in the reclining chair, a bottle of beer in his hand. Two-hundred-and-fifty pounds of beer belly, the man looked more like a pot-belly pig than a person. A mess of white hair, the same as Yuki, was the only thing Hisashi could make out from his post at the edge of the entrance, but he could imagine the thick legs and big fists just from the bruises left on Yuki.

When the man caught sight of her, though, his glazed grey eyes sharpened. "What the hell do ya want?" the man barked.

"U-u-um..." she stammered, her words jumbling together. "I... I need to... talk... to you," she finally mumbled out.

The man raised an eyebrow, daring her to say something.

"I-I'm m-m-moving out, father," she said, looking at his feet.

He snarled, causing her head to snap up just in time to see a hand coming down. Hisashi's eyes widened at the sound of his palm hitting her cheek, cracking with such a force he was surprised that she didn't break down in tears. Hell, Hisashi was sure Rei would cry just hearing a sound like that, let alone having experience the pain it no doubt brought along with it.

"You're what!?" he demanded. "Who the fuck do you think you are? Moving? That's not a funny joke!"

"It's not a joke..." she said quietly, hand on her cheek as she looked down again. "I'm moving in with a friend."

Suddenly, the man caught sight of Hisashi and shoved Yuki into the wall, ramming her into the glass showcase. The force actually shattered the glass, scattering the knives inside.

"You!" the man boomed, leering down at Hisashi. "You're the one who's been putting these stupid ideas into her head, aren't you!?" He grabbed Hisashi's uniform shirt, bringing his face inches from his own. "Do you think you can take care of her? Huh? Do you think you can take care of her better than I can? Can you handle her? She's a piece of shit, you know! Look at how pathetic she is, covered in scars and bruises, laying in a pile of glass like some problem doll that no one wants. And now look at how selfish she's being, leaving her own mother behind to go play slut with you. I get needing to get laid, kid, but is she worth it!?"