You knooooooow, it’s been awhile since I came out of nowhere with something completely irrelevant. So I think it’s about time I remedy that!! Hope you guys missed me!!

Finally, I can get back to posting some good stuff for readers. It’s a series I hope people really like. If I get enough positive feedback, who knows what else I’ll do?

The moment you’ve all been waiting for: with a word count of 5167,



DANGANPOCALYPSE: Death Road To Canada, Part 1

“I’ll only come with you if you agree to join my organization.”



“Seriously? Are you even sure that your followers are going to even make it to Canada? I seriously doubt that you’re thinking about it realistically.”

“Well, guess we can’t find out till we get there, right?”

Kokichi hung off a brick wall, swinging his legs as he looked down. A girl with long braids looked up in frustration. Unfortunately, she didn’t have much time to think before the supreme leader snapped to get her attention.

“Here, catch.” Kokichi tossed her something and she caught it with one hand skillfully. She opened her hand to see a pair of broken glasses with red framing. Her head shot up in rage, and she pulled him off the ledge he was swinging on. He gave a wide grin as he looked her directly in the eyes.

“Oh, so you are Touko Fukawa! This guy who kept claiming that he was above the rest of the survivors talked about you and your smell since you never bathe yourself. He said I’d recognize the smell, but I didn’t think it was going to be this poignant.”

“That doesn’t matter right now! Where is he? Why won’t you tell me?!” Fukawa ignored the remarks Kokichi made, shaking him like a rag doll. He wriggled out of her grasp and took the glasses back from her.

“Well, I have to have some way to convince you to come with me. No worries, he wasn’t dead or anything like that.” He twirled a lock of his hair absentmindedly as he started walking over to a car. Fukawa looked around quickly, wondering if she should be listening to the voice in the back of her mind that was telling her to stop. She shook her head and moved towards the car quickly and got into the car.

“Aww, so you’re coming with me! Great, I have some food in the glove compartment in front of you, and I’ve got some music choices that you can go through.” He motioned over to a CD book that he owned, which Fukawa took in her hands. Flipping through, the majority of it were pretty well known songs. One of them looked like it was a personalized disc that was labeled “Pop meme jams” in blue writing with lots of lines to make it look emphasized. She stopped for a moment on one of the newer looking CD’s and notices the name “Sayaka Maizono” on it. She recalled that she was supposed to have been in her class. With a shrug, she popped in a random CD with some calming piano music.

“So… Toki. Can I call you that? Toki?” Kokichi asked with a smirk. Fukawa groaned.

“I’ve only let one person call me that before, and even then… not for very long. I don’t like nicknames.” She thought of the blasting of weird bears that happened in Towa city. They were called Monokumas if she wasn’t mistaken.

“Well, that’s fine I guess. Tell me- how long have you been fighting alone? Any idea?”

“I would say… a-about ten days. It wasn’t until I got separated from master, who told me to wait here! Y-yes, that-that’s right, he told me to… to wait… ah…” Toko held herself, panting as her imagination got her excited. Kokichi pretended that he didn’t see this for his own sake. The trip was pretty quiet until Kokichi finally broke the silence.

“As fun as this chit-chat we have going on between us is, and it totally pains me to say this, we should probably make a pit stop at this Y’all Mart. You have anything to defend yourself with?” He asked. Fukawa pulled out a couple pairs of intricately made scissors. The same ones she had murdered people with along with Monokumas and now… zombies. Kokichi laughed as she showed them off.

“What are you gonna do, give them the most menacing haircut ever? You’re like the threatening hair stylist who no one wants to admit they don’t like their haircut because you’ll probably slit their throats.” Kokichi parked the car, getting little attention from the small horde that seemed uninterested in them.

“Okay, short-shit, how do you plan to get past them? You don’t look like you’ve got a weapon on you.” Fukawa motioned to his entire body. He rolled his eyes, pulling some extra dirtied clothes from the back seat of the car.

“If you move, smell, and look like them, they ignore you. But by all means, if you think I need a weapon…” Kokichi bucked his hips, finally fishing out a pink knitting needle from his pocket. “I got it from someone in my class who was killer at making cosplays. I picked up a few skills from her, actually.” He smiled at the girl.

“Why do I feel like that’s a lie?” Fukawa shook her head.

“Awww, you figured me out quicker than Shuichi! No fair- but yeah, it was a lie!”

Before there could be more complaining, the short boy slid out of the driver’s seat and moved with a limp. Fukawa watched as he blended in with the horde, wondering how he picked up such a useful tip. She couldn’t use the same methods as she was far too worried that she would pass out from blood on her clothes. Then again…

“W-well, here goes nothing. Let’s just hope I find somewhere to wash these later,” Fukawa grumbled. She got out of the car and quickly followed her new companion, looking for a zombie motionless on the ground. She didn’t catch the eye of any zombie as she bent down, splattering blood on her clothes while she grimaced. She didn’t want to lose control of herself yet, much less in front of a person who she wasn’t sure she would have any control around. Faking a limp, she moved towards the door of the store.

As she walked in, she lost sight of Kokichi. There were a lot more Zombies than she realized, and thanked her lucky stars that she blended in. She walked over towards shelves, scooping up as much food as possible. She found a lot of gasoline in the back room, where she finally caught sight of Kokichi. He had grabbed multiple cloth bags from god knows where and was filling them with as much supplies as possible. Fukawa walked over to him, taking a few of the bags out of his grasp.

“Oh, so you followed my lead! Thank goodness, now I don’t have to worry about you making a commotion and possibly getting us both killed!” He laughed. A zombie picked up its head, only for Kokichi to implant the knitting needle in its head. It dropped over after a few skillful stabs, ceasing movement entirely. The bookworm looked away from the body, feeling like she was going to pass out.

“Yeah, no shit I followed you. If I didn’t and something bad happened, you’d be dead. Now, I’m gonna try to actually do something for us by taking some of the weapons. At this rate, that flimsy needle won’t last more than five minutes.” Kokichi rolled his eyes but nodded.

“Fine, fine. Do whatever pleases you, but I don’t think it would be very wise to take more than we can use, you know?” He turned back around to face some of the crates, almost falling in one as he tried to reach for a bag of chips. Fukawa smirked as she left the room to find something besides junk food.

She passed back towards the bathroom, deciding to check it out. When she walked in, she saw five zombies roaming around the stalls. A soft knock on the door could be heard, and Fukawa couldn’t help but notice a rope hanging from the ceiling. Quickly thinking, she jumped up onto the sink and cut it down. A loud thud could be heard as something slumped up against the door, catching the attention of the undead. They started ramming into the door mercilessly, fighting to break it down. She climbed onto the top of the stall and peered down, instantly regretting what she saw.

A person with bright pink hair was laying on the ground, weakly coughing and trying to gasp for breath. Their hair was probably originally covered by the beanie laying next to them, and their jumpsuit was tattered. They couldn’t seem to get themselves off the ground, and Fukawa could tell that whoever it was probably wasn’t going to last much longer with the amount of progress the zombies had made on the stall.

“I can’t believe I’m about to do this,” She mumbled as she pulled up her skirt slightly. Under a band she had tied around her right leg was a taser she had attached to her from back when she was trying to rescue Komaru. The person on the ground slowly turned to look up, still sputtering and their almost completely glazed over eyes barely registering the scene playing out above them. With a single zap from the taser, Fukawa felt herself change, smiling as she felt that familiar bloodlust course through her. She flipped off the top of the stalls, reaching for the scissors that she had tailored to her liking a long while back. She bowed in a comical manner.

“Now, which one of you do I get to make into a Zombo-Filet first?” She cackled as she ran towards the group, her arms behind her back before she came up. With an act of sheer power, she snapped the neck of the zombie closest to her, making it falter on it’s original goal. She stuck the scissors in the back of its throat and pushed off of it with her heel, sending it flying back into the remaining ones on the door. Their attention was diverted as they all turned to face what caused the commotion. Before they could get a move on her, she flung multiple pairs of scissors into their heads. She bounced up to them, twisting them further into the corpses with no mercy. Eventually, they were all actually deceased at her feet. She shrieked with laughter as she held her stomach. She finally calmed down, and washed her scissors while humming a tune.

The moment they were all clean, she turned off the water flow to the sink, finally able to hear more audible choking sounds. She went back over to the closed stall, knocking on it.

“Knock knock~! Come out already!” Genocider called melodiously, making the coughs come to a stop. After waiting a few seconds, she grew bored of waiting for the person to get up and respond, and climbed over the stall door.

Upon closer inspection, she could see this was a male probably around the same age as her. He had one braid on the left side of his face that fell to his chin, and he had sharp pointed teeth. He had gotten the strength to crawl into a corner of the stall, still shaking and coughing. There was a clear rope burn around his neck, and the noose he had tied was still loosely clinging to him. She flipped the taser that she had grabbed once more in her hand before putting it up to her head.

The next moment, Fukawa realized that she was in front of the person who she saved. She kneeled on the ground, slapping him. He looked up, absolutely terrified.

“AAA-“ He started to yell before hacking once again, and bringing his hand up to his throat. Fukawa glanced around before handing him a water bottle she had foraged off the shelves.

“Y-you better drink this. I don’t have a lot, so you have to earn your keep and come with me.” She stated, not paying mind to the shocked look she was getting. The man took the bottle shakily, eyeing it to see if it had been tampered with. When he realized it was essentially brand new, he wasted no time screwing the cap off and bringing it to his mouth. After a few big gulps, he pocketed it, shaking less now. Fukawa felt him tug at her shirt, making her whip around. He got up slowly, dusting himself off and fiddling with the rope he had draped and tied around his throat. He stuck it into a bag when he untied it completely, looking a little disappointed it wasn’t as long as before.

“Who… are you?” the man asked slowly. His voice seemed to have left him, as he strained to get words out despite the pain it was bringing to his vocal cords.

“You’ll probably forget after I tell you. It’s Touko Fukawa, though. I’d ask your name, but we’re sort of in the middle of the apocalypse and I don’t feel like getting killed after risking my life to save you.” Fukawa quickly took his hand and yanked him out, pushing the zombies out of the way instead of her original tactic of blending in. The guy looked out behind him as he followed, trying to hold back a scream as he looked to see a giant group of the undead hustling towards them.

Fukawa ignored the loud groans they were making when she saw Kokichi motioning for them to hurry up. He was already by the car, stabbing a couple of zombies with the knitting needle from before. It snapped and he cursed, grabbing a shopping cart and flinging it onto the ones closest to him. The two finally reached the car, and Kokichi put the pedal to the medal, squealing away from sight.

It had been silent for a few minutes before the guy in the back spoke up.

“Are you guys gonna kill me?” He said, his voice sounding less strained than before. Fukawa shot a glare back at him.

“Look. You were gonna kill you. We gain nothing from having you die. Calm down, you shark-toothed imbecile.” They all sat in more labored silence until the man in the back decided to speak up. “So, I know you’re Touko, but… uh…?” He looked cautiously at the grape driving the car.

“Ohhhh, you wanna get to know me? Is it because I’m so alluring that you just can’t stand it anymore? I’m Kokichi Ouma, and I was pretty well known as the ultimate supreme leader back before all of this happened,” He stated, not really caring about the shocked gasps coming from both of the passengers.

“You. You’re an ultimate?” Fukawa asked, a pointed glare at Kokichi. He nodded and shrugged.

“No worries, I know you’re an ultimate too. Lemon head told me all about you, actually.” Kokichi paused as he gripped the steering wheel tightly, not losing his smile. “As fun as it would be to talk about the past, something tells me you don’t want to scare edgy pink lemonade anymore than you already have.”

“I have a name, y’know, along with an ultimate talent myself! You’re lucky that you picked up Kazuichi Souda, the ultimate mechanic!” He smiled, pulling a thumbs up. There was a beat of silence, and Kazuichi could feel the silence eating at him. Before he could comment on it, Kokichi laughed, his eyes squeezed shut.

“So lemme get this straight: you look like you just walked out of the Animorphs series with those teeth, have survived ten days straight probably using your cowardice to hide in a single Y’allmart until the horde infested it, and your talent is being able to fix dinky Honda Civics? What. A. Talent.” He wiped a tear from his eye, shaking his head. Toko held her tongue, watching the mechanic in the back seat try not to get agitated.

“Hey, I’m useful for more than fixing up tiny cars that can’t survive more than a gentle graze on a passenger door! I can fix up stuff as small as a watch like Kuzuryuu wears to a plane!” He groaned in the back, crossing his arms and looking out the window like a moping teenager wishing they were in a sad music video.

“You may be able to do that, but I’m pretty sure being a mechanic doesn’t help if you don’t even have the necessary tools to fix something. How do you not have a car, exactly?” Toko muttered, fiddling with the hem of her skirt.

“Look, it isn’t my fault some blue-haired chick and Teruteru left me behind, stealing my car and all!” Kazuichi pouted, clenching his fists. He realized how worked up he was getting and sighed, taking off his beanie. “All those modifications, wasted on a cosplayer and a chef. They wouldn’t even know how to use my car to its full potential.”

“Says every pretentious driver of a Tesla ever.” Toko grumbled. She relaxed when she realized either no one heard it or felt the need to comment on it. The piano music filled the silence as they moved forward, the empty roads stretching far ahead of them. Eventually, every note of the music faded out of existence, becoming mere background noise for the weary travelers. Toko thought about how fitting it would be for a touching story about how three strangers worked together to get to somewhere safer, scoffing out loud at the idea. She was above writing something so completely predictable.

“So, uh, not to be that person and all, but I really have to pee,” Kazuichi piped up in the back, crossing his legs together. Expecting to be made fun of, he simply got a hum of agreement from Kokichi.

“We need to stop anyways, and try to find somewhere to get some gas. We could seriously use it. You’d know how to siphon gas, right pinky?” Kokichi asked in a contrasting serious tone. The mechanic didn’t get much time to answer as they pulled into a Shell gas station, littered with abandoned cars and stains on the ground. Whatever zombie-related incident had happened here didn’t happen recently, Toko figured. She got out of the car, watching Kazuichi fumble to open the car door since Kokichi hadn’t turned it off yet.

“We have time, Soda can. There isn’t anything to worry about right now, so it would be wiser to wait till the car is off, don’t you think?” Kokichi shook his head slowly, turning the key and taking it out of the ignition. Kazuichi didn’t respond, wasting no time to get out of the car. Kokichi popped the trunk, revealing an extra tire, extra food, a few rags, and a couple tubes, one short, one long. He cracked his knuckles and looked around the area, spotting an empty gas container. He walked over to it, picking it up in one hand. Turning his head over his shoulder, he could see Toko and Kokichi talking about what to do about food.

“But what if others come through here? Wouldn’t it be a good idea to-to make sure they have something for themselves?” Toko argued, throwing her hands behind her in fists.

“What if we run out of food and can’t find any later? We’re looking out for ourselves first, not anyone else. That’s what your blonde cracker of a boyfriend or whatever he is would have done,” Kokichi replied, his temper slowly being lost the further the argument went on. Kazuichi would normally have broken up the fight, but found some comfort in people bickering. It reminded him of how he and Nagito didn’t necessarily get along, but still were able to coexist. Focusing back on the task at hand, Kazuichi settled in front of a random car.

Setting down the container near the car, he took the two tubes and fed them into the gas compartment. He put his mouth on the shorter tube and blew as hard as he could. Soon enough, he saw the fluid flow through the other into the container. He listened to the gentle drops on the bottom of the gas can, visibly relaxing. He put his hand on his neck, only to remember how he almost asphyxiated himself only hours beforehand. He shivered, seeing the reflection of himself in the car. The rope burn was still visible, even when he attempted to pop his collar out. He turned his attention back to the car, realizing it was almost completely finished. He put his thumb on the longer tube, pulling it out of the car. He looked up, realizing the fighting had stopped. Toko was next to him at a different car, mimicking his movements.

“So you know a trick or two about siphoning, huh?” He asked, attempting to make some small talk. She shrugged, watching the gas go through the tube.

“When you write, you research things so they’re as accurate as possible. Why do you think people found such appeal in my novel, ‘So Lingers the Ocean?’” She replied, moving a bit of hair out of her face. Kazuichi nodded, moving over to the other car beside her.

“Well, I may never have been an avid reader myself, but I’m sure it takes a lot of time to come up with all of that. I’ve never been good with words, either, so I guess it’s nice to have someone who is.” Kazuichi smiled, and Toko stopped for a moment. The positivity brought Komaru’s smiling face back into her mind, and she softened her look at the mechanic if only for a moment. She was going to say something, but was cut off by Kokichi whistling to get their attention.

“I’d love to continue this chit chat, but I think we should leave. I think we’ll have company if we don’t, otherwise.” He motioned to the highway, crawling with more zombies than before. They nodded, grabbing the gas, the food that they could, and whatever goodies they could obtain from the other cars before jumping into the car. With urgency moving him, Kokichi shoved the key into the car, turning it and stepping on the pedal. The car skidded away from the action, Kokichi laughing as he swerved back onto the highway. With that, all of their nerves dissipated. Toko’s shoulders relaxed, and Kazuichi grabbed his wrench from his pocket, feeling all the ridges on his tool.

“I know that traveling to Canada takes precedence over a lot of other things, but we’ll be fatigued if we don’t find somewhere to actually rest,” Toko said, glancing over at Kokichi.

“I know, I know. Sooner or later, we will. I’ve got a specific place in mind, so just hold on till we get there,” He bit his lip, focusing more on the road ahead of them. Toko leaned back in her seat, staring at the roof of the car. There were so many questions she had, but couldn’t ask at the moment. She would wait until they weren’t depending on the driver being able to safely escort them.

The hours eventually blended together until Kokichi hit the brakes on the car and turned off the AC. Kazuichi stirred in the back, rubbing his head. Toko snapped out of her daydreams, watching Kokichi turn off the car and get out. He stretched his arms, letting her see how tattered his clothes were. His small frame was more apparent when he wasn’t in the midst of moving around quickly. In front of him were multiple small buildings, people walking between them, and a campfire.

“Welcome to the trader camp. I have a stockpile of food, and the reason is so we can stay at places like these. I know, I know. I’m a genius, no need to thank me.” Kazuichi practically rolled out of the car, his hand still on his head. Toko got out and stood awkwardly behind the two males. She peeked around, looking out of curiosity for any familiar faces. They all looked as though they were stuck on the pasts they had made for themselves, all tired and broken. She squinted at the sight of the one head turned towards them, wide-eyed. A small girl eyed Kokichi, lazily looking up at his clothes.

“Kokichi, you really need to wash your clothes. They look gross,” she uttered lazily. He looked down at her and gasped.

“Wooooow, I can’t believe you’re in one piece! I missed you sooo much!!!” Kokichi erupted into a fountain of crocodile tears, running to her with open arms. The red-headed girl didn’t get enough time to react, and was in a bear hug she struggled to get out of. She squirmed as Kokichi somehow managed to lift her into the air.

“Let go of me! This is no way to treat a great and powerful mage!” She yelled, flailing about in vain. He finally put her on the ground and she checked her clothes quickly to see the damage done. She picked her hat off the ground, wiping the rim of it off.

“I’m sorry, I can’t believe someone as bossy as him could have friends. Who are you, exactly?” Toko questioned, turning the girl’s attention to her. She took a breath in, muttering something about not having enough mana for all of the excitement.

“Nyeh, I’m Himiko. I can’t say I’m really friends with Kokichi, but a familiar face is a familiar face.” She looked off into the distance absentmindedly, her finger on her lips. Toko remembered the same aloof vibe from Kyoko, but shook the thought of her old classmate out of her head. It wouldn’t do her any good to wonder how she was doing.

“What are you saying? We were besties– wait, is she here?” Kokichi whipped his head around, a paranoid expression taking over his face. Himiko sighed loudly as she shook her head.

“We got separated by a horde, and Tenko told me that there would be a place nearby that would house me if I said she would give them food for my stay. I’m not sure what she’s doing, but I’m sure she’s fine if that’s why you were curious.” She nodded to herself as she spoke, affirming to herself that she was correct.

“Oh no, that’s not why I asked! I just didn’t want to get pummeled into the ground for hugging you against your will. You know better than I do that I probably wouldn’t be standing if she had seen it,” Kokichi grinned. “I’m sure that wherever she is, her degenerate male senses are going off the charts.”

“Look, I have no clue what that even means, but can we please find somewhere to wash our clothes? I still look like a mess, and this stench is absolutely horrible.” Toko motioned to her messy clothing, trying not to think about how unsightly her master would see her as. Himiko looked at her, nodding as she rubbed her eyes.

“Yeah, we have that. You’ll probably need to wash yourself too, considering that, no offense, you reek worse than those stinkbugs Gonta has,” she said, adding a leisurely hand movement in front of her nose. Toko felt herself want to snap at her, but decided that any protest may put her out of a place to rest. Himiko started walking in the direction of one of the smaller buildings. Toko picked up her pace so she could make sure she didn’t get left behind, fidgeting to get inside the building.

Kazuichi stood, watching Kokichi look around for somewhere to sit down. There were a lot of unfamiliar faces to him, but he couldn’t help but pick out the messy brown hair in front of a campfire, feasting on some food. Akane popped in to his head, carelessly munching on whatever dish the perverted chef had made. He knew that she would probably be doing fine in an apocalypse, all things considered. The thought of her being dead seemed impossible– especially with Nekomaru, those two could burst through an entire day-long siege of the undead if they so desired.

He snapped out of his pondering to realize that Kokichi was already talking with some other people around the place. He panicked, finally bringing himself to try and be useful. He started chatting up some of the other people around, asking if they needed any work done on whatever car they were using. He got some food out of his labor, even if the tasks weren’t that grueling.

A couple hours had passed before they all reconvened. Fukawa’s skirt had been sewn up by someone so she wouldn’t seem as obscene. She was well aware that they would probably just get torn again, yet she couldn’t bring herself to deny the lady who offered. She looked at Kokichi, who looked in a lot better condition than before. She figured that getting attention from more than a couple people perked him up, noting the way he was more energetic and bouncy with his movements.

“Aaaaand… you’re dirty. You really didn’t take a chance to use some clean water to not look like some hobo?” Toko groaned as Kazuichi walked up to them all, smiling. She expected some sort of defensive statement, but all she got was a whistle and a smile as he put his hands on his hips.

“Working on cars for other people put me back in my element, so I don’t mind looking like this. Jumpsuits are made to get dirty, anyways.”

“Sure they are, but should the guy we caught hanging around in a bathroom be doing things that could harm him?” Kokichi chimed in, hiding behind Toko. She shrugged his hands off her arm, resisting the urge to hiss at him.

“Look, I just didn’t feel like having my life taken by a horde of undead people who look like they came out of that one Michael Jackson music video.” Kazuichi shuddered thinking about the video, considering it always creeped him out more than he would normally admit.

“Ohhh, are you like space case with a big case of scaredy cat syndrome? You even make freaky faces like him!” Kokichi struck a pose as his eyes widened in excitement. “You even tried to go out like a coward; you guys must be related somehow!”

“Do we seriously have to make fun of me right now? Can’t we find something else to do?” Kazuichi asked quietly, pulling his beanie down, sniffling. Kokichi pointed to an area by the fire, an empty log waiting for them.

“Fine by me, so long as we eat some food and enjoy some warmth. It’s bound to get colder tonight, so I’ll be over there if you need me,” Kokichi scampered over to the area, gleefully putting his hands near the fire. Toko and Kazuichi looked at each other with some hesitation before following the leader’s steps.

The rest of the night was filled with small talk, food, and rest. They knew that the road ahead of them was far longer than they could hope to accomplish by themselves. In their slumber before they awoke, they peacefully dreamt of a world where they could finally relax after not being able to get any breaks.