[Third Person's PoV]
5 years later…
"I hate this. I feel stupid," muttered a small girl with light brown hair and scarlet-hazel eyes. She held a single finger pointed upwards above her head, her tiny arm trembling with both frustration and embarrassment. A red backpack, slightly too big for her frame, clung tightly to her back. "Don't you feel stupid doing it too, Clark?"
Walking beside her was a boy who was five, the same age as her. Clark wore a blue hoodie and a matching backpack. His black hair was silky, neatly parted down the middle like someone had carefully combed it that morning. He mirrored her pose—one finger lifted solemnly toward the sky. But unlike Momo, his expression held a kind of forced confidence. "A bit," he admitted with a shrug, "but I trust Granny. She wouldn't have us do something silly without a reason."
Momo, Seiko Ayase's actual granddaughter, puffed out her cheeks in frustration. "But people laugh at us. They point. I hate it. It's embarrassing."
Clark scoffed, shoving his hand in his pockets as they continued walking side by side toward the school gates. "So what? I'll just beat them up again if they try anything."
"Clark!" Momo whined, her eyes wide with worry. "Grandma said not to do that anymore. You'll get in trouble. I don't want you getting in trouble because of me."
Clark rolled his eyes dramatically. "It's not like I really beat them up. I just give them a little nudge with my leg, and they trip. If anything, it's their fault for not watching where they're going. Clumsy idiots."
Momo couldn't help but giggle. She covered her mouth with her tiny hand, her shoulders bouncing with laughter. "It was kind of funny to watch."
Clark gave her a quick pat on the back of her backpack as if to comfort her. "See? So don't let what anyone says bother you. Granny says this finger thing is for good luck, right? But I think it's more than that. I think it's to keep us safe."
"Safe?" Momo blinked. "Safe from what?"
Clark leaned in dramatically, lowering his voice to a whisper like he was revealing a dark secret. "From the monsters under your bed. This—" he gestured to their raised fingers, "—this keeps them away. If you stop, they might come and eat you up. And you know what kind of kids monsters like the most?"
Momo leaned in nervously. "W-What kind?"
"Little girls," Clark whispered ominously, "with brown hair and hazel eyes."
Momo's face paled instantly.
Clark didn't stop there. "You better keep that finger up, Momo. If you let it down, they'll come crawling out, teeth and claws and all. And they'll gobble you up in one bite!"
Momo trembled like a leaf in the wind, her hazel eyes wide with terror. Tears welled up until they overflowed, spilling down her cheeks. "I am a little girl with brown hair! Waaaaah!" she cried, breaking into loud sobs.
Clark burst into laughter, unable to contain his amusement. Being stuck as a little kid was incredibly boring most days, so he took any chance he could to stir things up—even if it meant a little drama. It was his own way of have fun.
…
However, fun always came with a price.
Now Clark sat stiffly in the principal's office, staring at the floor and trying not to fidget. It was his turn to tremble like a leaf.
Seiko Ayase stood behind him, silent and cold as a blizzard. Her presence was enough to freeze the entire room. She didn't say a word, but her expression said plenty—it was the kind of expression that made grown men apologize without knowing what for.
Momo sat to the side, still sniffling, her face red and blotchy from crying. Her finger remained dutifully pointed upward, even as she clutched her backpack like a safety blanket. She refused to lower it, still terrified that the monsters would find her.
The principal recounted what had happened—how Momo had arrived at school sobbing uncontrollably, refusing to put her finger down, and how she insisted she would be eaten by monsters if she did. When asked why, she tearfully explained what Clark had told her on the way to school.
Throughout the entire explanation, Seiko listened silently, nodding occasionally. "I see," she said once, voice calm and deadly quiet.
Once they were finally dismissed from the office, Seiko knelt down beside Momo. Her tone softened, just a little, as she gently took the girl's hand. "Sweetie, you can put your finger down now. There's no such thing as monsters under the bed. Clark is just a dummy. A big, loud, dum-dum idiot who doesn't know when to keep that big mouth of his shut."
Clark winced at the glare Seiko sent his way. Under her piercing stare, he quickly confessed that he was only joking. He mumbled a weak apology, which Momo accepted with a small sniff and a hiccup.
And despite everything, they left school early.
Which, all things considered, was exactly what Clark had been hoping for from the start.
'Score,' he thought with a grin
…
'Not score,' Clark thought bitterly as he stood stiffly in front of Seiko Ayase.
She sat on the floor of their old dojo like a queen holding court, a metal bat resting lazily against her shoulder, one leg up and the other bent comfortably. A cigarette clung stubbornly to the corner of her lips, a small plume of smoke curling into the air like a warning flag. Her eyes were half-lidded, but the weight behind them was anything but tired. They were sharp, focused.
"So," she said, exhaling slowly through her nose, her voice deceptively calm, "care to explain what made you think it was funny to traumatize Momo like that?"
She took a long drag from her cigarette.
Clark swallowed. His instincts screamed at him to run, but he stood his ground—barely. 'It's like I'm facing a gangster,' he thought, watching the way her grip casually adjusted on the bat.
"It wasn't to traumatize her!" he defended, raising his hands in surrender. "I was trying to help her! She was being bullied, starting to hate the ritual—she wanted to stop. I thought if I told her something scary, it might make her want to keep doing it. Like motivation!"
BANK!
Clark didn't even see the bat move. One moment Seiko was sitting, the next she had struck him clean across the torso with a force that launched him through the sliding wooden door.
He sailed outside, broke through the frame, and ragdolled across the hard dirt and stone, landing with a loud thud.
"Ugh…" he groaned, curling up slightly and trembling. "You know… if this wasn't part of my training to control the solar energy I'm absorbing, this would definitely qualify as abuse."
"Lucky for me and unfortunately for you," Seiko's voice echoed out as she stepped calmly over the splintered remains of the doorway, "it is both."
She pointed her bat at him, now standing tall with a deadly gleam in her eye. "Now get up. Either you learn to control the energy inside you, or I beat some manners into that thick skull of yours for thinking you could just scare your sister like that."
"Did I mention it was for her benefit?" Clark said, ducking as she swung again—this time at his head.
"This," she said, slamming the bat down with enough force to crater the ground beneath her feet, "is for yours."
Clark dodged backward just in time, the stone beneath him spider-webbing from the impact.
Panting, he muttered apologetically, "Okay… maybe I did take it too far. I didn't think she'd actually take me seriously."
Seiko's eyes softened only slightly at the sincerity in his voice.
"I get what you were trying to do," she admitted, "but you always pick the worst, most unorthodox ways to do things. You solve violence with violence, and kindness… still with violence. If I don't knock some values into you, I'll have failed you as your teacher—and your grandmother."
Clark blinked, caught off guard. "Grandmother? More like a mother, really…"
He immediately regretted saying it out loud.
Seiko paused, something unspoken flickering in her eyes.
She looked away, tapping the ash off her cigarette. "You've probably got parents out there somewhere. Parents who gave you life. It would be disrespectful to call me anything else."
She turned back to him, her voice sharp again. "Now stand still."
"You stand still! You're trying to kill me here!"
What followed was a whirlwind of movement. Clark dodged, ducked, and flipped backward as Seiko rained down a flurry of strikes that cracked the earth and split the air. He deflected some with his arms, wincing as each blow sent shockwaves up his bones like gunshots.
Every block left faint afterimages in the air from the speed of his movements. He was getting stronger—too strong for a normal five-year-old—but Seiko was still stronger, more disciplined, and somehow always one step ahead.
The fight went on until Clark was left wheezing, hunched over in exhaustion, sweat clinging to his skin. He had torn off his hoodie and shirt, letting the sunlight hit his bare back. His body soaked up the rays greedily, already beginning to recover.
"Have I ever told you what a monster you are?" he panted, wiping sweat from his jaw, legs trembling.
"Says the little freak absorbing solar energy like a sponge," Seiko scoffed. "We've only been training for six months—six—and already I see muscle starting to form. You're not even close to done growing, and you're already terrifying."
She slung the bat over her shoulders, leveling her gaze with him. Her tone dropped into seriousness again.
"I'm telling you now—don't ever do what you did to Momo again. If I hear she cried because of you even one more time, we're doubling your training. Are we clear?"
Clark looked down, the guilt finally settling in. "...Yeah. Sorry."
Seiko exhaled, then scoffed, "Don't apologize to me, brat. Go apologize to her."
She turned away, then paused, the faintest of smiles pulling at her lips.
"And if you keep up this progress… maybe I'll take you on a trip with me in a few years."
Clark's head shot up, eyes wide with excitement. "Seriously!?"
He knew what kind of trips she meant. He wasn't clueless. Not anymore. The supernatural world was real—and Clark was already aware of just how deep it went.
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