I should be dead.
No poetic last stand. No saving the world. I died because I slipped while carrying ramen and hit my head on the damn kitchen floor. One moment, I was cursing the microwave for stopping at 00:01, and the next—I woke up in a high school classroom.
Not just any high school.
Fujimi High.
It didn't hit me at first. Everything was too real. Too sharp. The faint sound of chalk tapping on a blackboard. The soft rustle of uniforms. The slight ache in my lower back from the crappy desk. And then I saw him—Takashi Komuro, head resting on his arm, half-asleep two rows ahead.
I knew that spiky hair. Knew the scowl. Knew this world.
Highschool of the Dead.
It punched the breath out of me. Three days before the outbreak, if my memory served me right. Which meant I was on a countdown to hell—zombies, betrayal, gunfire, and more cleavage than a doujinshi artist's fever dream.
I should've panicked. I should've cried. I laughed.
Because why not? I'd already died once. What's a second go?
That's when the voice in my head kicked in.
"Initializing Contract Demon System. Host compatibility... confirmed."
I blinked. Looked around. No one else seemed to hear it.
"New host identified. Due to your spectacularly pathetic death and complete lack of accomplishments, you've been granted access to the Contract Demon System. Congratulations, and try not to waste it."
"...The hell?"
"System online. You are now capable of forming emotional contracts with individuals. Fulfill their desires, fix their broken hearts, help them survive—whatever it takes. In return, you'll receive rewards tailored to your needs. Power, abilities, enhancements. Think of it as a demonic loyalty program."
"Why?"
"Because you're entertaining. And expendable. And let's be honest—you're not cut out for survival without help."
I stared blankly at the window. Down below, students gathered in the courtyard. Somewhere in the teacher's lounge, Shido was probably oozing smugness. Saya Takagi was arguing with someone two classrooms away. I didn't need to see her. I recognized the voice. Sharp, fast, angry. The world was alive, ticking down to collapse.
"Do I get a manual?" I asked quietly.
"Figure it out. You've got three days."
Perfect.
After class, I didn't go home. I wandered. Old habit from my past life. I'd never been good at rushing into things. I needed time to breathe, to think.
Behind the gym, I found her.
She wasn't from the anime—at least, not that I remembered. Short brown hair, sleeves rolled to her elbows, hunched over and biting her lip hard enough to leave marks. She held a photo in one hand. A couple. Smiling. The kind of picture you frame until it makes you sick to look at.
She didn't notice me until I was too close to turn back.
"You lost?" she asked, voice scratchy.
"No." I nodded at the photo. "Looks like you might be, though."
She stared. Not in that anime way where a girl's eyes sparkle and she suddenly decides you're her savior. Just… wary. Like someone tired of being hurt by people pretending to care.
I didn't push. I sat on the edge of the concrete, a few feet away.
Silence.
Eventually, she spoke. "He dumped me. Said I was 'too clingy'. Found someone else on the track team."
"Sounds like an idiot."
She let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah. He was."
I glanced at her name tag. Miyako. Quiet type. Probably one of the students who'd die in the background, if the show followed its original path. Nameless. Faceless. Forgotten.
Not if I could help it.
And just like that, the system whispered.
"Emotional resonance detected. Contract available."
No flashy interface. No glowing runes. Just the faint thrum of something shifting in the air between us.
I didn't say anything mystical. Didn't chant Latin or offer a blood pact. I just looked at her and said, "Want to prove him wrong?"
She blinked. "What?"
"Let's start with getting you some self-respect back. I'll help."
"Why?" she asked, voice low.
"Because I've been where you are," I said. "And because I need allies. This world's about to get very ugly."
She didn't understand, not yet. But something in my tone must've cut through the fog, because she nodded.
Just once.
That was all it took.
When I walked home—my home now, I guess—I felt something change in me. A lightness in my step. Like I'd spent years wearing weights without realizing it.
The system murmured again.
"Contract formed: Heartbreak Redemption Pact. Reward granted. +1 Agility. Item unlocked: Demon's Whisper Ring."
I didn't know what the ring did yet. I didn't ask.
What mattered was that I'd saved someone. Maybe just from herself, maybe from something worse. And in return, I felt faster, sharper. Like I could actually outrun a horde of corpses if I had to.
Three days. That was all I had to prepare.
And I wasn't going to waste a second.