Bite To Death

"Fon!" Skull cries happily, the purple haired stuntman practically bouncing in his seat as he waves the martial artist over.

Colonnello can't help but smile as well. They've been in the safe zone for only a week but the atmosphere itself just relaxes, promising sanctuary. The sun is the right temperature of warm and all around is the sound of Namimori filled with life. It's been a month and a half since the outbreak yet people bounce back so quickly.

Lal snickers under her breath as Fon gets pulled into a free seat at the outdoor café table, a cup of tea already waiting for the martial artist.

"Fon," Lal begins solemnly. "Really, thank you for getting the message to us."

The note came by pigeon, of all things, and immediately after they received it, Lal and Colonnello took off from Australia, the two soldiers meeting Skull in China before making the last trek to Japan.

Despite how troublesome guiding a full ship was with only the three of them, it was easier than trying with strangers. They know how to work together because of the whole 'Arcobaleno' phase where they were all commissioned by Luche to guard her daughter Aria. The title sticks since the seven of them meet up occasionally and still take jobs together.

"There's no need to thank me," Fon says humbly, folding the large sleeves of his traditional Chinese tunic together. "It was on a guess more than anything."

"A guess that your little doppelganger would build an Empire?" Colonnello spoke up with a grin. "Well in that case - to Hibari Kyouya; may he never tire of playing king."

The other two raise their glasses in toast with laughter but Fon just shakes his head fondly.

"Which reminds me," Skull adds after the three take big gulps of their smoothies. "You said the boy has a mission for us?"

"Not quite," Fon hums, long braid of hair swinging with the motion of his head tilt. "He was originally planning to take off by himself and start working his way back to Namimori from the other end of Japan. His DC took exception to this and bribed him by saying that I will leave instead."

"Wait, so the kid hates you?" Skull wonders.

"More like… I won't let him go on suicide runs by himself," Fon sounds out slowly, picking the correct words.

"Oh!" Colonnello cries, snapping his fingers in a light bulb moment. "On the last chopper run, a few skyscr.a.p.ers went down. That was you two?"

Fon just sips his tea, not confirming nor denying the incident.

"And you're asking us to go with you," Lal says, stirring the dredges of her drink with the paper straw. "I wouldn't mind, as long as we have proper supplies and don't have to scavenge for food too much."

Colonnello and Skull grimace at faint memories of abandoned shops with jump scare zombies.

"He has promised weekly care packages, an airplane, and all of the berserker army personnel," Fon reassures the three.

"Why just berserkers?" Lal muses sceptically. "They're too hard to control, not to mention they tend to die quickly."

"These people are trained with a Hibari touch," Fon says with a too wide smile. "They don't die." And on that rather disturbing note, Fon stands and gestures the rest of them up. "It's best to meet him today – he's in a good mood."

The other three acquiesce, slurping up the rest of their drinks and leaving with a nod of thanks to the waiter. Money is starting to be introduced again, but no one actually bothers.

They soon come to a huge traditionally structured house but before they even reach the front steps, a muscled teen with a red armband steps out, arms laden with a folder.

They nod to Fon in greeting. "The Chairman is currently…" the DC member trails off, looking exasperated for a brief second before the professionally blank mask is back on. "He is in the backyard," the girls finishes with.

She then walks down the steps, her well defined biceps making Skull take a step back, and leads them around the house to a large metal fence painted black, the entire thing curving around the large property with no gaps to look through, just sleek metal.

She opens the gate by pressing her DC armband against a blank portion which lights up green for a split second and goes dark again. The hidden lock disengages with a hollow thunk and a carefully concealed door swings open automatically.

They all step through but the three people new to this house stop dead as the door swings shut behind them and locks audibly.

The portion of the backyard they're in spans the side of the house in a rectangular shape, cut off from the area directly behind the house by a clear wall. Behind the glass, a stunningly colourful garden can be seen with what seems to be millions of different plants arranged neatly at the edge of footpaths. A set of small wooden bridges lead down to the back end, zig-zagging over a twisting stream filled with fish and bright water plants.

Despite how incredibly beautiful that portion is, the three a.d.u.l.ts are more focused on the section they stand in. More specifically, on the twenty or so zombies standing perfectly still in a single straight row, their back to the people who just entered. The clothes are ripped and roughed up, like the usual on infected, most of it dark with dried blood.

In front of the zombie line-up is a large silver metal cage on wheels, with the top sealed over and the door wide open. Two more DC members stand at either side of the cage, completely at ease despite the crowd of infected not fifteen meters from them.

Hibari Kyouya sits at the top of the structure, his legs hanging over the side of the cage to the open doorway.

"Kyouya," Fon greets, his smile just a touch too amused. "These are the three I told you about."

Hibari Kyouya whistles. It swings up to a high pitch before dropping low and cutting off abruptly.

The infected whip round, dropping from their straight backed stance into the half slumped posture of normal zombies. Their heads jerks and teeth click together as they catch sight of the people by the door, but they don't move.

The DC girl who showed them to the backyard calmly starts walking to the Chairman, the file in her hands clearly meant for him.

The next command is a low whistle in three short bursts.

The infected launch themselves forward, sprinting for the girl who still strides towards her leader.

Colonnello snaps out of his shock, f.o.r.c.i.b.l.y pushing the concept of training zombies to the back of his mind as he watches in morbid curiosity. Would the kid really kill one of his DC? A quick glance to Skull, Lal and Fon shows that they're not going to help the girl.

Colonnello turns back just in time to see the crowd of infected split around the DC member, rushing past like a waterfall, and charge the one standing closest to them. Fon does nothing but smile as the three behind him draw their guns in preparation.

The whistle this time is a sharp note, higher pitched and hovering in the air longer.

The charge cuts off, the infected jerking to a stop barely a meter from Fon.

Another command of two long notes, one in a higher register and the second at a lower one, makes the infected turn and start shuffling towards the cage.

The teenager drops from the roof, his jacket flaring out behind him at the motion before settling again. He takes the file from the girl and walks straight through the herd of infected to get to Fon. The zombies give him a very wide berth.

"I thought Tetsuya was joking," Fon admits. "Why exactly are you training them?"

The teen stops in front of the martial artist and starts fl.i.c.k.i.n.g through the papers he was handed, ignoring the question.

The DC closes the cage door as the zombies inside stay perfectly still with vacant stares, before they start wheeling it off further down the backyard into what looks to be a small warehouse. The door to that opens and Colonnello gapes at more cages inside before the door is sealed again.

The DC leader closes the file and hands it over to Fon. "That is all the information you will need for your job, adjusted to cater for your herbivore friends being added."

"Thank you," Fon says politely as he accepts the folder. "But I would be a lot more assured if you told me you aren't training zombies just to cure your boredom."

"I am not," the teenager says with a sharp edge to his voice, his dislike at being questioned very blatant. "I am training them for battle."

"Actual battle?" Fon asks, partly hopeful but mostly sceptical. "Not just for a twisted version of chess?"

The reply of silence is very clear.