The Coming Storm

"Everyone has the desire to kill, but as humans, we must learn to control those urges."

"Only when the time and place are right should we unleash that part of ourselves."

"Believe me, that day isn't far off."

"When it comes, you'll be completely free."

Qin Yumou was, of course, referring to the coming outbreak—the world where the dead rise and society collapses.

Once the dead take over, all bets are off. There will be no government, no self-defense forces. Just chaos—and freedom. Killing the dead won't be a crime. In fact, it'll be necessary.

And even killing the living… might become just another option.

"Are you talking about the true spiritual dream... the one that's coming?" asked Saeko Busujima.

"Yes."

"I look forward to that day," she replied with a rare gleam in her eyes. "But before that..."

She suddenly hurled her wooden sword at Qin Yumou with surprising speed. He sidestepped easily and caught it mid-air with one hand.

"How about a proper fight? Fists only. No weapons."

Saeko dropped her stance and raised her fists, transitioning into hand-to-hand combat. Qin Yumou followed suit, dropping both the wooden sword and his cane.

They clashed.

Fist met flesh.

One punch after another.

Each strike echoing like a drumbeat of rising adrenaline.

"Haaah… It's been so long since I've felt this alive!" Saeko let out a breathy laugh, barely winded. Her cheeks were flushed, a strange kind of excitement in her eyes.

Her uniform clung tightly to her skin, but she didn't seem to care about modesty. After all, her opponent was blind.

Or so she thought.

Qin Yumou, though technically blind, took in the sight in his own unique way. 'I mean, I'm not really using my eyes,' he thought smugly.

"The bell's already rung. Are you sure you're skipping class?" he asked.

"In my current state, I don't think I'm suited for class. A change of clothes sounds more appropriate."

"Fair."

It must be uncomfortable wearing wet clothes all day, especially after an intense spar.

"Then, Yumou-kun, why don't you come over to my place? We can talk in detail about what happened last night... in the girls' bathroom."

Saeko's words were casual, but her gaze was focused.

"I thought you weren't that curious," Qin Yumou replied with a faint smile. "Or maybe you already understand those things."

"I'm more curious to know whether you and I… are the same kind of people."

She said it with a cool confidence, unfazed by the implication. She had, after all, kept her composure even during the initial zombie outbreak.

Calm, strong, and dependable—that was Saeko Busujima.

"Before that, I need to inform Yukino. And I'll need to leave before the next class. Someone's waiting for me at home."

A man doesn't vanish without a word. Especially one who just had a home-cooked breakfast. That's not just rude—it's unworthy of being called a man.

Hiratsuka-sensei would definitely be upset.

And Qin Yumou didn't want to disappoint her.

"You're quite the dependable junior, aren't you?" Saeko smiled. "I'll wait for you at the school gate. Don't stand me up."

She was already well-acquainted with him—his routines, relationships, and personality. That steadiness in him… it made her eyes shine.

Sometimes, similar people are drawn to each other. Not just in gender, but in character.

Yukino Yukinoshita clearly brightened upon seeing Qin Yumou.

But when she learned he had to leave early, her expression dimmed. The Ice Queen of the Service Club—usually cold and distant—suddenly looked a little… lonely.

"Is it Saeko-senpai?" she asked.

"Yes. We have a few things to discuss."

He didn't hide it. He saw Yukino earlier, lurking nearby during his interaction with Saeko. Her question wasn't a surprise—only her directness was.

Yukino fiddled nervously with her fingers, her usual calm demeanor wavering. Her pale, slender fingers intertwined tightly.

He wondered if they were as soft as Hiratsuka's. She always felt a little cool to the touch, but pleasant. A strange sensation.

"When will you be back, Yumou-kun?" she asked, clearly trying to change the subject.

She was, after all, only his club senpai. She had no real claim to pry into his personal life.

"Sorry, Yukino. I probably won't be back today. Hiratsuka-sensei called in sick, so I'll go straight home after meeting Saeko."

He kept it honest.

"Hiratsuka-sensei, huh…" Yukino nodded, a little defeated.

That meant she wouldn't see him for the rest of the day.

Qin Yumou reached out and gently patted her head.

"I'll be back tomorrow morning."

A faint stream of energy flowed from his palm into her.

Now that he knew this world wasn't ordinary, he had to make some preparations.

For instance, Hiratsuka's body was already infused with plenty of spiritual energy. Evil spirits avoided her. Getting too close could kill them.

Sometimes he wondered: Was this divine energy? Or just spiritual force?

Either way, it worked.

"Okay. See you tomorrow, Yumou-kun," Yukino whispered. She didn't pull away from his hand.

Later That Day

The streets were nearly empty. Everyone was either at school or work.

A tall girl with long, dark-purple hair walked ahead, wearing a soaked school uniform and holding a wooden sword. Her face was cool, her figure voluptuous.

Behind her walked a tall, handsome young man.

Too bad… he was blind.

Still, he moved with poise, tapping his cane gently along the sidewalk. His posture was straight, his steps confident. From behind, no one would've guessed he couldn't see.

Warmth pulsed from their joined hands. With each touch, Qin Yumou grew stronger.

He didn't mind holding hands. It wasn't like he was the one being taken advantage of.

Rain poured suddenly from the sky.

They had no umbrellas. In seconds, both were soaked.

Thankfully, they arrived at her house.

A small, traditional-style home marked with the name Busujima.

"We're here, Yumou-kun," she said softly.

She ushered him inside.

Their soaked uniforms clung tightly to their skin. Saeko's figure, already stunning, now left little to the imagination.

Qin Yumou, ever the gentleman, reached to remove his shoes. Before he could, Saeko knelt gracefully and helped him.

She slid off his shoes and slipped on dry house slippers for him, moving with the care of a devoted wife welcoming her husband home.

A true Yamato Nadeshiko—elegant and devoted.

"Careful, Yumou-kun," she warned, taking his hand.

Her own feet, clad in damp black stockings, stepped directly onto the floor.

"I'm still wet," he reminded her.

"It's fine," she replied sweetly, guiding him to the couch.

"Please wait a moment, Yumou-kun."

While she left the room, he scanned his surroundings.

The home was tidy, cozy, lived-in. The kitchen was clearly used often—he remembered she was good at cooking.

Then, as his perception brushed past one of the rooms, he lingered.

Her uniform had come off. Drenched fabric peeled away.

Her figure… terrifyingly perfect.

83(D)-56-86 cm. A body others would envy, and gravity had clearly given up on.

A skirt fell to the floor. Her pale thighs peeked through.

She peeled off her soaked socks. What he saw next made him pause.

Purple… classy. Just like Song-ge said.

She reappeared with a neatly wrapped suit.

"This belonged to my father. He hasn't returned from abroad yet, so it's unused. I think it should fit you, Yumou-kun."

There were no other men's clothes in the house—Saeko lived alone.

He nodded slightly, noting once again how she always dressed so… daringly.

But then again, why worry about modesty in front of a blind man?

Still, it's dangerous to assume every blind man is harmless.

"The bath is ready. You'll catch cold if you stay wet."

She led him to the bathroom. The tub was full of steaming water.

"Saeko-senpai, you're being way too trusting," he said, shaking his head.

From the moment he entered, she had treated him as someone reliable, safe.

No hesitation. No caution. Only trust and gentle hospitality.