Work Text:
Kurumi is standing on the rooftop, gripping her shovel as tightly as she possibly can.
There are some days where she doesn't like her dear shovel. It reminds her too much. Too much of the horrible feeling of piercing the flesh of her freshly turned senior. But the reminders are sometimes welcome. She needs to remember sometimes. To remember that she isn't as innocent or kind and caring as people like her club mates.
She doesn't even know why she wants to be reminded. It was a horrible moment. The worst she's ever experienced, actually. That small amount of pain is just enough to keep her going, though. The constant reminder of her brush with death, and ending another life. She sometimes wonders if he could even feel it. Or if he had enough sense to watch her swing the shovel into his neck.
Sometimes she thinks about returning to her old habit. It's not like she wouldn't deserve it. She regularly ends the lives of zombies. Sure, they probably don't have enough sense to not hurt humans, but they clearly still go to the places they cared about. She's seen zombies in track uniforms at the track. She knows they were human, but she doesn't seem to care. She's still able to hang out with everyone and smile, like she's innocent.
Kurumi thinks back to the days right after the school living club was formed. She was regularly hurting herself. She only stopped because Miss Sakura found her with her gloves off, and blood pouring down her wrist.
She shakes her head. I can't go back. We have limited medical supplies, and someone might catch me. Or worse... I get infected because of it... Kurumi loosens her grip on her shovel. I've been alone with my thoughts for too long. She looks at her teacher's grave. "I'm going now, Miss Sakura."
Kurumi walks to the door and walks down the stairs. Yuuri is probably cooking right now, maybe Kurumi can get a taste test.