Even so… we're the type to love messing around. The house turned into chaos like a prime-time sitcom.
"Hu hu… it hurts so bad, man!" Renji moaned, still sprawled on the floor, legs curled like a shrimp, face twisted in agony as if ready to be rushed to the hospital.
"Take it easy, Misaki. Otherwise he... loses more than dignity now, okay?" Hiyori giggled while covering her mouth, but the laughter slipped out like boiling water.
Misaki sat calmly, sipping her drink as if she'd just watered a plant. Unshaken and detached.
The entire living room echoed with loud laughter, as if everyone had forgotten that just days ago, our lives were nearly torn apart by a monstrous metal beast.
But I hadn't forgotten my original purpose. I had come to ask serious questions… not to kick off a comedy show.
I glared at my brother—who had entirely destroyed the mood—still writhing and groaning like a beached fish at the foot of the chair. All thanks to you, Renji. Serves you right!
I cleared my throat, trying to temper the comedic wave overtaking the room, and refocused:
"Ahem… Misaki, where does your power come from? Is it innate or trained?"
My gaze sharpened, full of expectation. Hiyori sat up straight, her face concentrated. Renji, still sprawled on the floor, perked an ear.
Misaki nodded lightly and set her glass down. Her pale gray eyes appeared distant, then she answered calmly, gently—as though recounting a fairy tale:
"It's innate, Tomokatsu. I was born with it."
She paused, eyes glancing in remembrance, then continued:
"Of course, it can be learned... but it's extremely difficult. You need talent and discipline. Ordinary people can't even reach this level."
"I see…" I nodded slowly. "So this is psychic power?"
"Yes."
"So does that mean… there must be others with psychic abilities, right?" I probed further, tone low—more assertion than question.
Misaki didn't answer immediately. Her gaze drifted toward the world beyond the window, where twilight filtered over the dining table. Then she nodded and said:
"Yes. They're all around the world."
She smiled, lips curling as though unveiling a centuries-old secret. Her voice dropped enigmatically:
"Yes, of course. But that's not all… Many people possess various abilities. They usually remain hidden to maintain balance in society. A balance among… three factions."
"Three factions?" I frowned, unsettled. It sounded fantastical, like something from a manga—but Misaki's serious gaze made me take it seriously.
She looked at me softly, eyes deep as if probing the soul:
"Tomokatsu," she said—utter sincerity in her tone—"do you believe in ghosts… or ancient legends?"
I frowned, immediately responding as if by reflex:
"Of course not. I'm a science person. That stuff is just fantasy."
Misaki nodded slowly, then stepped closer—soft as a cat's paw. She leaned in, her gray eyes drilling into mine as if conveying something beyond words:
"But I'm going to share a secret with you…" she whispered, "because I believe… you are someone who can change the world."
I froze. My heart pounded. For some reason… that statement tightened my chest. It felt as though an invisible thread had touched the deepest part of my consciousness—something I didn't even know existed.
The atmosphere abruptly shifted. Everyone fell silent, even Hiyori and Renji. We all sensed… Misaki wasn't joking.
She continued, voice deliberate as though narrating a forbidden myth:
"Actually, in this world—from ancient times to now… there have always been three great forces."
"One is humanity—people like you and me."
"Two: AGI-intelligent robots—known as RAGIs."
"And finally… people like me: psychics. And there are even magicians."
Her words echoed like distant thunder in my mind. My eyes opened wide.
"So that's it… yeah, those powers sound awesome," I said, excitement creeping into my voice. "Can you teach me? Can I learn too?"
Before she could answer, my sister—Hiyori—suddenly sprang up and kneeled before Misaki, left hand to her heart, right arm extended like she was making a sacred vow:
"Misaki-sama! Please guide us on the path of enlightenment!"
I nearly choked. Renji gaped.
Misaki's eyes widened for a moment, then she burst into a clear laugh—her voice ringing like polished metal:
"It's not that easy, kiddo," she said, gently patting Hiyori's head. "And for most people, it's almost impossible."
Hiyori bowed her head, deflated as if just denied a blessing.
"But…" Misaki emphasized, "maybe—a bit—if you dare cross the line between humanity and the supernatural."
Misaki stood up, long black hair drifting with each motion. She walked several steps into the center of the room, then paused, turning toward us. In that moment, light from the window cast her tall silhouette across the floor—like she carried something heavy, unspoken.
"In this world…" she said, gaze distant as if seeing beyond it all, "there are those who believe in science. And those who believe in the spiritual. But honestly… you'd be better off living a simple, peaceful life."
Her words drifted softly—but left a strange resonance within me. Not for the message itself… but for the gaze—a glimpse of a seasoned soul who'd seen what normal people couldn't fathom.
Ding dong… ding dong…
The doorbell suddenly rang, tearing through the philosophical tension.
I looked toward the corridor and called:
"Hiyori, check who's at the door."
"Yes!" she replied, curiosity in each step down the hallway.
The door opened to a soft breeze, carrying the chill and stillness of the night outside.
"Who's there?" Hiyori's voice called.
I heard a male voice—deep, confident, clear:
"Hey little miss… can I ask if Arisawa Misaki lives here?"
Hiyori froze. Standing before her was a young man in his early twenties—with an unmistakably different presence. Pale as night mist. Ash-gray hair neatly parted, falling over his forehead—both refined and cold. He wore a dark wool fedora. Most striking of all: a long black cloak in a semi-classic style, high collar pulled up—adding mystery.
Under the hallway lights, he looked like a detective from a novel… or maybe a member of some clandestine organization.
"She's here. Let me call her!" Hiyori replied swiftly, turning to call:
"Miss Misaki! Someone's here to see you!"
Misaki was pouring water in the kitchen. Hearing her name, she set the glass down, wiped her hands, and stepped out—voice gentle but alert:
"Who is it?"
But the moment her eyes met the person at the door, her body stiffened. She froze, eyes wide, lips trembling:
"Uh… is that you…?" she whispered, voice blending with the night breeze.
She took a few uncertain steps—barely believing her own eyes. The distance between them narrowed, the air thickened in a breathless silence.
"Why are you here…?" she repeated—this time louder.
After a moment, as though recognizing something, she tentatively said:
"…Captain?"
The young man smiled softly—his lips curling in a way that balanced intimacy and authority. His voice—steady and deep—carried echoes of memory:
"Sashiburidana, Misaki."
"Long time no see, Misaki."
The night breeze flushed through the corridor. Curtains fluttered gently.
That greeting… marked the official opening of a completely new chapter.