Disclaimer: I do not own High School of the Dead.

A/N: Mayuri is a completely unimportant OC I created simply to show a 3rd person POV on Takashi's group – just ignore her, mostly.

Mayuri was fascinated. There were rumours around the shelter about them. Everyone talked about the mismatched survivor group with a mixture of fear, bewilderment, and awe. No one understood them, and they most likely never would.

Everyone knew their names, however.

Rei Miyamoto, a pretty auburn-haired girl with reddish-brown eyes and an athletic figure. She expertly wielded a M1A1 Rifle with a bayonet attached, and was also the childhood friend of the group's leader.

Saeko Busujima, a stunning girl with long purple hair and piercing blue eyes. She was the daughter of Master Busujima, and had surpassed her father in the way of the sword, specializing in melee attacks.

Saya Takagi, a glasses-wearing pinkette with fierce orange eyes and almost constantly furrowed eyebrows. She was the genius daughter of the prestigious Takagi family, and the main strategist of the group, as well as a childhood friend of its leader.

Kohta Hirano, a short and overweight, yet unmistakably muscular boy with black, shoulder-length hair and brown eyes. He was an expert in firearms and marksmanship without compare, and a close friend of the leader's.

Shizuka Marikawa, a voluptuous blonde, brown-eyed beauty. She was the oldest of the group, and as famous for her enormous breasts as she was for her extensive medical knowledge that had saved many lives.

Alice Marisato, an eight-year-old child with dark pink hair and purple eyes. She was always accompanied by one of the group members and her dog, Zeke.

And finally, perhaps most importantly (although he would not agree with such a statement), Takashi Komuro. An attractive young man with spiky black hair and piercing brown eyes. He had a slender yet powerful build that allowed him to use a variety of different fighting styles, but he specialized in guns. Also the founder and leader of the group.

Komuro's group had arrived at the shelter 3 years ago, 16 months and 21 days after the epidemic broke out. At first, no one could believe that a group of high school students (with an elementary kid and a dog, no less) had managed to survive for more than a year alone in the hell that had become the world. No one had expected survivors to appear – search parties had stopped going out a long time ago. The shock that the refugees at the shelter felt at their arrival was only amplified by how striking the group was. All the girls were uncommonly beautiful. The leader was very handsome and charismatic. Even the other boy in the group, despite his short height and pudginess, held a certain charm that attracted others.

What truly made them stand out, however, was the intensity with which they carried themselves. As though something might attack them at any moment, their postures were always tense and ready. They moved with a fluidity one would expect to find in a lion or a panther, some form of animal predator, but never in a human. Every action was performed with grace – no awkward or unnecessary movements. What was, perhaps, most striking about them, however, was how they always moved as a unit. Without even looking at each other, they seemed to know where the other was and adjusted accordingly. Instead of a group of different individuals, they seemed to be simply parts of a whole.

Upon arrival at the shelter three years ago, Komuro's group had undergone a series of intensive tests to ensure that they were in no way contaminated. People could not believe that they had survived so long on their own, and were incredibly suspicious. The tests took a long time, and several of the members reacted negatively to the contact with the doctors and security personnel. Mayuri thought she understood – after spending so long with only each other in the hell that was the world outside the shelter's walls, where a foreign touch could mean being captured and bitten, being touched by others would be an uncomfortable experience.

There was a moment where some of the group members, Rei Miyamoto and Kohta Hirano, if she remembered correctly, looked as though they were going to protest and cause a scene, making the officers ready their weapons, but one stern look from Takashi Komuro calmed them. Both members seemed to gain strength from his gaze, and allowed the doctors to evaluate them. Things proceeded without incident after that.

Once the tests were concluded and it was proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that all of those in the group were 100% human, people wondered. How had these high school students not been bitten by them? How had they found shelter, food, and water for sixteen months? How had they not succumbed to the depths of despair, capitulated to depravity, given in to hopelessness, when so many others (older, wiser, more experienced than they, people would claim) had failed? And for almost a year and a half? There were veteran soldiers that had not lasted a week before committing suicide.

Admittedly, the group had one adult with them, Shizuka Marikawa, however it was not she who lead them. Instead, the leader of the group was unmistakably Takashi Komuro, a high school boy.

The members of the group didn't even have to say whom their leader when they arrived, it was obvious by the way they interacted. They all paid attention to his minute movements, as though looking for signals on how to react to particular situations. One twitch of his hand and they all had their weapons readied, one sigh and they relaxed. They deferred to Komuro, listening with unusual attentiveness when he spoke and instinctively following his decisions. Even the way they walked indicated that Komuro was their leader, with him at the front-center, Busujima and Miyamoto on either side, as though serving as bodyguards. Hirano would follow behind, shielding Komuro's back and protecting both Marikawa and the young Alice, who were positioned in the middle of the group.

Only a blind and deaf man would be unable to see the dedication and the utmost trust each member of the group had for Komuro. Mayuri could understand a bit. Komuro was very charismatic, and there was something about the way he walked (sure of himself, secure in his body's abilities), or perhaps something about the way he talked (with calm deliberation, as though every words was incredibly important) that inspired confidence and trust. She idly thought that the group would have probably not survived even a month, much less almost seventeen months, without his leadership skills.

When Komuro's group arrived at the shelter, they purchased a relatively large house of their own, right next to Mayuri's. As time progressed, Mayuri and others were surprised to see how the house steadily became more fortified and heavily barricaded. Mayuri noticed that they slept in shifts, always with at least one member on the rooftop of the house, keeping an eye out for possible threats. People excused it as paranoia, habits cultivated by the sixteen plus months of torment they had to go through. She knew others though of the group as scary, though, and even Mayuri had to agree that there was something frightening about the group.

As though they had seen Hell and survived, but only at the cost of taking a bit of that Hell in them.

Eventually, people realized that an 8-year-old girl was living with a group of teenagers who likely suffered from some form of PTSD. Alice was an adorable girl, and doubtlessly there would be adults who would want to adopt her. So many children had been lost to them, that they were viewed as more precious than anything else. A child up for adoption would never be left wanting for very long in this day and age. Mayuri supposed that was one of the few bright sides of the apocalypse. Mayuri was at her window when she saw a man carrying a badge, presumably from child services, knock on her neighbours' house. The orange-haired girl, Miyamoto, answered the door, though not before checking to see whom it was. She didn't invite the man into the house, which Mayuri thought was rather rude, but then again, these people had lived outside of civilization for almost a year and a half. A little rudeness could be excused. After talking for a few minutes, where Miyamoto got increasingly agitated, the orangette went back inside. Mayuri thought it was to fetch Alice in order for the young girl to leave with the officer, but instead it was Komuro who exited the house.

The leader of the group was still sporting his usual intense look, his arms crossed as he listened to what the officer had to say. From her window, Mayuri could see that Miyamoto and Busujima were both right behind Komuro, whether in an effort to intimidate the officer or simply due to force of habit, she wasn't sure. The former was rather superfluous, she felt, as Komuro was plenty intimidating all by himself. While the officer was still talking to the leader, little Alice appeared beside Komuro. The officer made a move to touch the girl, but quickly retracted his hand after Komuro said something, visibly paling even from where she was sitting, and quickly walked away from her neighbors' house. Komuro simply ruffled Alice's hair, ushering her back inside with a kind expression on his face.

Ah, it appeared that Alice would be staying with the Komuro group after all. The officer should have known that the members of the group wouldn't allow themselves to be separated from each other. Everyone could see that they were dedicated to Komuro (and to each other) entirely too much for that to happen.

No one truly realized just how far this trust and dedication went until, five months after first arriving at the shelter, the Komuro group decided to join the military in their expeditions outside the shelter walls. It was incredibly risky, and many couldn't understand how the high school students could possibly want to go back to the hell they had just escaped when they were finally safe from harm. Mayuri knew, though. She was a perceptive girl, and she had seen how the Komuro group felt uncomfortable in the shelter. They were isolated from the rest of society, only truly relaxing when they thought they were alone with each other. They had spent so long fighting for survival that they no longer knew how to react to an every-day peaceful lifestyle. They grew increasingly restless, as though forcing themselves to go through the motions that the rest of civilization went through.

There was just something different about them. They didn't like following society's rules and regulations that others adhered to without thinking. They were more primal and their morals slightly off. They didn't fit with the rest of this society – only with each other.

When the Komuro group joined the military forces, the higher-ups had tried to separate the group, stating that an alternate group required a medic and Marikawa was needed, or that a sword-weilder would be much better suited to a more specialized team and Busujima should join them instead of Komuro's squad. It was all useless, though. No amount of threatening, bribing, or cajoling would convince the members to leave Komuro's squad. They trusted each other implicitly and could simply not work with anyone else. Nothing would separate the group. And they would follow no one other than Komuro.

(Personally, Mayuri thought things were better this way. The Komuro group was one of the best military squads in existence. They had yet to suffer a casualty and always completed their missions with awe-inspiring efficiency. Their kill count of them was also unparalleled. Even the veteran soldiers looked up to them.)

But Mayuri was curious. In an uncharacteristic show of courage, Mayuri had once approached one of the Komuro group's members, Saeko Busujima, and asked why none of them would ever join another group.

Busujima-san had laughed, features lighting up in a rare and beautiful show of amusement. "Because we cannot follow anyone other than Takashi".

Mayuri was confused. The answer seemed so definitive, yet it was so ambiguous as well. There were several experienced, high-seating military officers that could lead them. Why was Komuro the only one they could follow? And so Mayuri questioned Busejima-san again.

"Why?"

Busujima-san took on a more somber expression. "Because there is no better leader. He is noble, he is ruthless, and he is trustworthy. For sixteen months and 21 days we managed to stay alive, and it's thanks to his leadership. People underestimate him because of how young he is, but I consider myself incredibly lucky to have found him in this hell." Busujima-san had a far off look, as though seeing things into the distance that I couldn't. Suddenly, Busujima-san was looking at Mayuri again, with piercing blue eyes that seemed to weigh her very soul. More fiercely, yet in almost a whisper, she said,

"We all know he is our best hope of survival. No one else can compare".

Mayuri was forced to look away from her gaze, and noticed that the rest of Komuro's group had come back, and probably listened to the last part of their conversation. They had hard, determined glints in their eyes, the eyes of survivors, that intimidated Mayuri. Busujima saw them as well (or perhaps she always knew, they always seemed to know where one another was, after all), and turned to look at the group. They all nodded in response, as though agreeing with what she had said. Komuro approached Busujima, and stopped right in front of her. His hand reached out to cradle the beautiful woman's head, looking deeply into her eyes. Mayuri wondered how neither of them blushed, despite the intensity of the moment. At some unspoken signal, both their eyes closed and foreheads touched. After a while, the rest of the group approached them, all touching either Busujima or Komuro with steady and comforting hands. No words were said. No words were needed. It was a moment of unity, trust, and family. Mayuri felt she was intruding on a personal moment.

When Mayuri got back home, her fascination for the group had only increased.

But she wouldn't ask again.