Uzumaki and The Dead (CH 2) (Patreon)
Content
A/N: This story is rated M for mature content not suitable for children.
All characters engaging in sexual act are eighteen years or older.
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Chapter 2: The Rising Dead
Fujimi Academy [Japan]
Naruto stretched, feeling the pleasant, deep ache in his muscles from last night’s intense session. Yuuki was still sprawled across his bed, a contented, sleepy smile on her face, the sheets tangled around her hips. He glanced at the clock on his bedside table: 10:45 AM.
“Seriously? We missed half the school day,” he chuckled, running a hand through his perpetually spiky hair.
He didn't really care about missing school, which he considered a mundane waste of his time, but it was too late to casually stroll into a classroom without raising an eyebrow from Kyoko, the red-haired teacher who was constantly on his case—and whose irritation he secretly enjoyed provoking. He decided he'd just take the day off. He showered quickly, letting the hot water wash away the lingering traces of sweat and Yuuki's musk. The image of the stained desk in Shidou’s classroom brought a fresh, vindictive smirk to his face. Enjoy the funk, you bastard. That's a taste of Uzumaki vengeance.
As he pulled on a clean black t-shirt and jeans, his thoughts drifted back to his own world. He missed the raw, tangible power of his chakra, the comforting roar of Kurama. He was stronger now than any non-combatant in this world, thanks to his heritage and his self-imposed, Rock Lee-style training regime, but it felt like wielding a plastic sword after mastering a legendary blade. Still, he was alive, he was free, and he had women lining up for his attention. Life was good.
He poked Yuuki awake. "Hey, sleeping beauty. I'm going to run to the grocery store. We're out of instant ramen and those ridiculously sugary energy drinks."
Yuuki blinked her yellow eyes sleepily, her curvy body shifting beneath the thin blanket. "Mmm, you, baka," she purred, stretching languidly, clearly still in her post-sex haze. "Just bring back some chips. And maybe some ice cream. And hurry back. My pussy misses you already."
"Got it. Chips, ice cream, and my return," he affirmed with a grin, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. "Don't go anywhere."
He grabbed his keys and wallet. The morning air was warm and muggy—a typical Japanese summer day. He started his beat-up sedan and pulled out of the apartment complex, the drone of the radio news already playing.
“...authorities are asking the public to remain calm following a reported violent outbreak at a local hospital. Eyewitnesses describe the perpetrators as acting in a state of extreme, unnatural aggression, biting and attacking first responders. We advise citizens to avoid large gatherings and exercise extreme caution. Repeat: avoid large gatherings. We are awaiting further instructions from the..."
Naruto tuned it out. Another weird, isolated incident. This world was tame, but occasionally some nutjob would go on a rampage. He pulled into the parking lot of a small convenience store near the high school, a place he frequented. The familiarity was immediately unsettling. The usual ambient noise—traffic, distant construction, chatter—was muted.
As he walked toward the automatic doors, a sound—a primal, wet, tearing sound—snapped his attention away from his shopping list. It wasn't the sound of a fistfight or a car crash. It was the sound of meat.
He saw a man in a ripped business suit sprawled on the pavement next to the store entrance. Crouched over him was a woman, her school uniform torn, her face a mask of dried blood, her eyes milky and dull. She wasn't just attacking; she was feeding. She was ripping flesh from the man's neck with a disgusting, feverish hunger. The sheer, feral violence of it was shocking even to someone who had witnessed the horrors of war.
Naruto’s Uzumaki instincts, honed by years of life-or-death combat, took over instantly. His perception, even without chakra, was far sharper than any civilian's. He saw the way she moved—slow, clumsy, but relentlessly driven. The intent was pure, mindless consumption. She wasn't human anymore.
He didn't pause to scream or panic like a civilian. He reacted like the trained weapon he was.
A large, heavy-duty metal trash can stood near the corner of the building. With a speed and strength that belied his lean build—a strength few humans in this world could match—Naruto snatched the metal can, swung it low and fast, and brought the reinforced edge down directly onto the woman's skull.
CRUNCH
The sound was sickeningly final. The woman went down instantly, her head folding in on itself like a crushed melon. She didn't twitch.
The businessman beneath her let out a gurgling, wet choke and went still.
Naruto stood over them, his heart hammering, but his mind perfectly calm. This was a fight. This was familiar.
It was not human. He crouched down, his fingers automatically tracing the contours of the man's neck, avoiding the massive, ragged wound. But the corpse didn't look right. Its eyes were also dull, and its jaw hung slack. Then, the impossible happened.
The "corpse" below him twitched. Its eyes—the same dead, milky white as its attacker's—snapped open, focused not on the sky, but on Naruto. The dead man's hands clawed weakly at the air, trying to reach him.
"Oh," Naruto muttered, a grim realization dawning, a cold, hard knot settling in his gut. He had dealt with reanimation jutsu, but this was different—this was organic, viral, terrifyingly widespread. "The dead are rising."
He didn't need a scroll, a sensor, or a genius Kage to figure this out. He recognized the pattern of an incurable plague, a catastrophic, immediate threat. This wasn't some village-level threat; this was an extinction-level event.
The automatic doors of the convenience store slid open. Three more figures shambled out, attracted by the noise and, more disturbingly, the scent of the fresh kill. They were clearly employees, still wearing their uniforms, their movements the same drunken, predatory shuffle.
Naruto straightened up. The fear was absent, replaced by the white-hot focus of a veteran shinobi. He had faced gods and monsters. These were just slow, fragile targets.
"Fine," he said, a cold, dangerous smile spreading across his face. "Let's see how well you handle a true Uzumaki in a bad mood."
He picked up the metal trash can again. It was a clumsy weapon, but it was heavy and fast.
The first zombie was a young woman, likely a cashier. She lunged with a guttural moan. Naruto sidestepped the pathetic lunge, brought the bottom of the can down in a swift, vertical arc, shattering the thing's collarbone. It stumbled, and he followed up with a vicious kick to the knee, buckling the leg. A quick, brutal swing of the can at the skull finished it. Splack.
The other two were on him. One was a large, middle-aged man. The other was a skinny teen. Naruto didn't waste time trying to break their limbs. He had learned one lesson instantly: destroy the head, destroy the threat.
Naruto used the can as a shield against a clumsy bite from the large man, then pivoted. The teen was closer. A powerful reverse elbow blow connected with the side of the teen's head, snapping his neck with a sickening pop. The zombie dropped, its motor functions failing instantly.
Now it was just him and the large man. The man was slow, but powerful and relentless. It managed to grab Naruto’s arm, its putrid breath hot on his face, its rotten teeth scraping against his skin. The touch was vile, but his skin was tough from years of exposure to kunai, shuriken, and his own raw power. The bite barely scratched him.
SNAP
Naruto, driven by adrenaline and sheer Uzumaki force, twisted his arm free and smashed his other elbow into the zombie's temple, driving it backward. The monster crashed into a parked car, denting the hood. It tried to rise again, driven only by the viral impulse.
Naruto looked wildly for a better weapon. He couldn't rely on one-hit kills with his bare hands if they kept coming. He grabbed the dented car door handle, yanked it clean off its hinges with a snarl of effort, and drove the jagged metal point of the handle deep into the zombie’s eye socket, straight into the brain.
The large body slumped over, the milky eye-ball pierced by the makeshift shiv. Silence returned, heavy and oppressive.
He leaned against the car, breathing hard, his instincts screaming. The fight had lasted less than thirty seconds. He had killed five people—or things—in under a minute.
He looked around. The street was quiet. Too quiet. A column of black smoke was rising in the distance, near the center of the city. He could hear sirens now, a chaotic, broken cacophony.
He glanced back at the mess. This was no longer a game. He had a limited resource—his body—and he had an unprotected girl back at his apartment.
"I can't waste time on these scrubs. I need a real weapon. Something reliable," Naruto thought.
He looked at the large man's corpse, then back at his car. The trunk.
Naruto ran to his trunk, his hands fumbling for the key. He didn't have a shinobi weapon, but he had something almost as good—the result of his 'unwinding' at the underground fight club. He threw open the trunk. Inside, wrapped carefully in a black tarp, was the weapon he used for his final, decisive matches.
A Kanabō. A thick, iron-studded war club, heavy enough to crush a skull in a single swing, designed for maximum bone-shattering impact.
He hefted the Kanabō. It felt good, the weight familiar and comforting. The smooth, worn wood where he gripped it, the lethal, heavy studs—this was a weapon. He was no longer a high school student. He was a survivor.
The game was on.
His first priority wasn't escape; it was retrieval. Yuuki. He had to get back to his apartment, which was a short five-minute drive away.
He threw the metal trash can into the back of his sedan and climbed in, tossing the blood-slicked Kanabō onto the passenger seat. He didn't bother buckling up. He needed speed.
The drive back was a horrific blur. In the five minutes since he'd entered the convenience store parking lot, the world had descended into hell.
Zombies—Shit-Eaters, he instantly dubbed them—were already swarming the streets. A bus had crashed into a lamppost, and a horde was tearing the screaming passengers out. A schoolgirl, likely from Fujimi Academy given the uniform, was running hysterically, only to be dragged down by two men in suits. The sounds of breaking glass, screams, and that wet, tearing sound of feeding were everywhere.
Naruto didn't hesitate. He drove on the sidewalk, blowing through stop signs. His sedan—suddenly his most valuable possession—slammed into two of the Shit-Eaters, sending their broken bodies flying into a storefront window. He felt a moment of cold, ruthless clarity. Collateral damage is acceptable.
He pulled into his apartment complex lot. It was eerily quiet, which was bad. Quiet meant the initial surge had already happened.
He grabbed the Kanabō and kicked his door open.
“Yuuki! We’re moving! Now!” he roared, his voice low and sharp, the tone he hadn't used since the Fourth War.
He found her sitting up in bed, looking confused and annoyed.
"Naruto, what the hell? You’re bleeding and you have a giant bat—"
"Quiet! Listen to me, Yuuki. This is not a drill. There’s a plague. People are eating each other. They're slow, but they're relentless, and the only way to stop them is to destroy the head. Put on some clothes, grab your phone, and get moving. We have maybe five minutes before this place is swarmed."
The sheer authority in his voice, the look in his eyes—the eyes of a predator who had just killed—snapped her out of her drowsiness. She was a hedonist, but not stupid. She moved with shocking speed, pulling on a mini-skirt and a tank top, grabbing a small backpack, all while staring at the dried blood on his sleeve.
"What about my parents?" she whispered, fear finally entering her voice.
"Forget them. You can't help them now. We need to focus on survival." He tossed her a baseball bat he kept for "self-defense." "This is only for an emergency. Aim for the head."
As they were about to leave, his Uzumaki senses, now strained but functional, picked up a movement in the hallway outside his apartment door. A sluggish scraping sound.
"Too late," Naruto hissed, gripping the Kanabō tight.
The door burst inward as a man—one of his neighbors, a frail salaryman who lived down the hall—stumbled in. The man's face was shredded, and he was staring blankly at Yuuki.
Naruto didn't wait for the moan. He swung the Kanabō with the force of a Rasengan, fueled by muscle memory and pure, protective fury.
KRAK!
The sound of the impact was like a ripe watermelon hitting concrete. The salaryman's head disintegrated, sending a spray of red-black fluid and gray matter across the wall. The body dropped like a sack of rocks.
Yuuki screamed, a thin, strangled sound, staring at the gore.
"Stop screaming!" Naruto commanded, his voice sharp but controlled. He shoved her out the door, stepping over the headless corpse. "Don't attract more. We're going to the school."
"The school? Why?" Yuuki choked out, clutching the bat uselessly.
"It's the highest point in the immediate area. It has tall fences, lots of supplies, and multiple vantage points. It’s the closest, largest fortress we have. Now run!"
Naruto's theory was simple: get to the most defensible structure and assess the resources. The school, Fujimi Academy, was only a few blocks away.
The streets were now chaos. They moved swiftly, sticking to the shadows of the buildings. Naruto, his mind running strategic calculations, was a whirlwind of practiced movement.
Three Shit-Eaters rounded the corner. Naruto didn't bother with subtlety. He met them head-on, the Kanabō a blur of deadly motion.
The first took the blow to the knee, shattering the joint, then the follow-up strike to the face, silencing it. The second tried to lunge. Naruto deflected it with the club, spinning the shaft into a horizontal strike that caught the third in the jaw, ripping it off the bone. He finished the second with a quick overhead smash. The third, jawless but still moaning, took two rapid blows before its skull yielded.
Fujimi Academy
They arrived at the school perimeter. The main gates were, thankfully, still locked. But the sight inside the courtyard was horrifying. Students—dozens of them—were shambling, attacking teachers and fellow students. The carnage was already widespread.
"No, no, no..." Yuuki whimpered, recognizing faces.
"We go over the fence," Naruto ordered, scaling the chain-link barrier with effortless grace, something he’d done thousands of times on Konoha’s walls. He dropped down and turned, providing a bracing hand to Yuuki. "Hurry!"
As Yuuki clumsily made it over, a woman's scream echoed nearby. It was coming from the front of the school entrance.
"Stay here, keep watch," Naruto commanded, though he knew she was frozen with terror. He didn't wait for a reply, sprinting toward the noise.
He rushed into the central courtyard, where he discovered the origin of the screams: Kyoko Hayashi, the red-haired teacher who had been scolding and flirting with him—at least that was his impression, especially since she often seemed to find opportunities to scold him while wearing outfits that left little to the imagination, her nipples frequently visible through her clothing—just the day before.
She was pinned against the double doors by a large male student. The student, now a Shit-Eater, was gnashing his teeth, tearing at her uniform. Kyoko was weakly pushing him away, tears streaming down her face, her eyes wide with shock.
A small crowd of four other zombies was closing in.
Naruto didn't hesitate. He had no personal loyalty to this woman, but she was a valuable, living asset, and he couldn't just stand by. He let out a blood-curdling, shinobi-style battle-cry—a deep, resonant sound that momentarily stunned the shambling attackers.
He leaped into the fray, a whirlwind of blunt, crushing force.
The first zombie was hit in mid-stride. Naruto’s Kanabō caved in its ribs and then its skull in a single, flowing movement. The second tried to flank him; Naruto caught its wrist and twisted, snapping the bones before driving the club through its chest cavity, using the momentum to spin and deliver a backhand smash to the skull of the third.
The heavy male student was still trying to bite Kyoko.
"Hey, jackass!" Naruto roared.
The zombie turned its milky gaze toward Naruto. It lumbered toward him, leaving Kyoko sobbing but untouched.
Naruto waited until the monster was in range, then delivered a short, sharp jab with the butt-end of the Kanabō to the center of the zombie's chest, momentarily stopping its forward momentum. As it tried to recover, Naruto shifted his grip, raised the club, and brought it down in a massive, two-handed swing. The impact was horrifyingly loud, liquefying the zombie's head and sending bone fragments scattering.
Naruto stood over Kyoko, his chest heaving, the air thick with the smell of blood, decay, and fear.
"Get up," he ordered, holding out his hand. "We're moving inside."
Kyoko stared at the wreckage. She looked at the destroyed face of the student, then up at the blonde boy who had just saved her, realizing the terrible, primal strength he possessed. She took his hand, her body trembling violently.
"U-Uzumaki... what... what is happening?"
"What’s happening is an apocalypse, Sensei. And you're now under my protection. Don't slow me down. We need to secure the building."
Faculty Lounge
They found two other survivors hiding in the faculty lounge: a skinny, terrified male teacher and a stern, older female nurse.
Naruto slammed the door shut and barricaded it with a heavy filing cabinet, his ears constantly listening for the telltale shuffle.
"Listen up, all of you!" Naruto's voice cut through the nervous chatter. "I am in command. I know how to fight these things. You don't. Anyone who disobeys me puts everyone's life at risk."
He faced Kyoko and the other two adults. "Nurse, I need to know your medical supply levels. Teacher, I need to know the school’s layout, particularly the roof access and kitchen storage. Kyoko-sensei, you are familiar with the student body. We need to find other survivors, but only those who can follow orders and fight."
The teachers were stunned. The high-school delinquent was suddenly barking orders with the authority of a military general. But the bloody Kanabō and the shattered door told them he was the only reason they were alive.
The skinny teacher immediately started stammering, "B-but the police... the government..."
Naruto glared at him, the coldness in his eyes silencing the man instantly. "The police are dead, and the government is already eating itself. We are the government now. You will listen to me, or you will become fodder. Understood?"
"Yes," Kyoko whispered, gripping her hands. She recognized the look: the look of absolute commitment to a terrifying cause.
"Good. Yuuki, you stay put. You're our sentinel. If you hear anything, let me know. Understood?"
Yuuki, pale but composed, nodded. The sight of the gore had shocked her into compliance.
Naruto then turned to the nurse. "We need to clear the way to the roof. We need height and visibility. Let's go to closest stairwell."
As the nurse led the way, Naruto paused, his eyes scanning the hallway. He spotted a fire axe mounted on the wall. He grabbed it, tossing the handle to the nurse.
"You're not defenseless," he instructed. "If they get past me, aim for the head. Don't hesitate. If you hesitate, you die."
He was back in his element: high-stakes combat, small-team maneuvers, and grim survival. He might not have his chakra, but he had the training of a Hokage, the ruthlessness of a war hero, and the raw power of an Uzumaki.
The school was under siege. The war had just begun.
Chapter End
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A/N: Naruto has cemented his role as a leader, alongside Yuuki and Kyoko, whom he rescued from a dire situation, as well as an original character who serves as both a nurse and teacher. The question now is whether he will choose to remain at the school and strengthen its defenses or seek out a safer location. Who will survive and who will meet their end? Continue reading to discover what happens next. Thank you all for your amazing support—take care!