The next day, or presumably so, a twenty-something home-room teacher polished off a bottle of water (she'd prefer sake to water any day) and climbed into the cab of the War-Bus: a fifty-foot long, souped-up monstrosity with a gorgeous patina, bullet-proof windows , enough guns to equip a small army, and a supercharged blower. Yukariosa sighed and looked up at the yellow cat-thing dangling from the rear-view mirror. She knew this might be the last student-run she'd ever make of her short-lived life. The woman lifted her heavy hand and turned the ignition key. The mighty bus coughed to life, and the blower started shaking with horsepower.
Turning her gaze ahead, she saw her leader, The Immortan Kimura, prepare to give a speech to set off the War-Bus. The fierce man took hold of a bullhorn and looked down antagonistically at the flunkies below. His voice was like gravel on your skin.
"Once again, we send of my War-Bus to bring back students from the wasteland and school supplies from the depot. Once again, I salute my driver: Yukariosa, who will make the journey beyond our cities' walls. And I salute my half-dressed War-Girls, who will ride with me forever on the pillowy clouds of Raspberry Heaven!"
With that, Kimura turned off the mic and stormed away dramatically. Yukariosa put her foot down on the pedal, grasped the wheel, and took off with a crew of War-Girls away from the school.
As the War-Parade made their way toward the depot, Yukariosa suddenly shifted gears and veered off course into the uncharted wasteland. There was no turning back now. One of the War-Girls climbed down the top of the bus and hung on the sill of the driver's side window.
"Sensei, we're not going to pick up students or supplies?" The bespeckled student said in between munching on a Taiyaki.
"No, we need to go fill up first." Yukariosa said, but no sooner had she said that that her secret came out. Her whole reason for going for going off-road in the first place just reared her pretty head from the cargo hold of the bus.
"I can't breathe down there! I haven't bathed in months!" Shouted Mrs. Kimura, covered in grime and gasoline.
Yomi's mouth fell agape. Her Taiyaki dropped out and went under the wheels of the bus.
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" She yelled and aggressively grabbed Yukari's throat. The driver of the rig swerved to get her off, but ultimately threw one good punch that shattered Yomi's nose. The glassed girl fell down into the sand, writhing in pain, but had enough guts to shoot off a colored flare into the sky.
Before long, The Immortan Kimura had set forth a War-Parade the likes of which had never before been seen in the Japanese wasteland. Motor-scooters, bikes with cards in the spokes so they made a distinct rattling sound, and even a float on which the Ditz-Warrior rocked out with an acoustic guitar and unknown farts. The horse-toothed masked man led them in the front. He was determined to get his treasured waifu back. Only Terrible Tomo passed them all, running so fast, ahead of even the War-Bus, that a gargantuan sand-storm was kicked up in her wake.
Chiyo-Chan, strapped to the front of Kimura's car, took a deep breath before the storm engulfed them all.
"How much more can they take from me? First it's my scooter, now it's my homework!"