[Third Person POV]
Clark and Lala came down for breakfast dressed neatly in their school uniforms. Clark walked ahead with his usual calm stride while Lala trailed behind, limping slightly, her steps uneven and exaggerated enough to catch attention.
The moment they entered the dining area, Momo and Seiko froze mid-bite, their faces instantly heating up crimson. Neither of them spoke a word; instead, they both dropped their gazes and focused fiercely on their plates, shoving food into their mouths like it was the only way to survive the awkward atmosphere.
When Lala sat down, she winced audibly, shifting in her chair as she massaged her backside. With watery eyes and a pout that was somewhere between sulking and theatrics, she turned on Clark.
"You were too rough, Clark! Now it's going to hurt every single time I sit down!" she whined, her voice loud enough to make both Momo and Seiko's blushes deepen.
Seiko, unlike Momo, forced herself to regain composure. She straightened her posture, her face smoothing into a perfectly unreadable mask as she lifted her gaze and stared at Clark wordlessly.
Clark, normally composed in every situation, felt the heat creeping up his own neck. Even he couldn't completely endure this kind of open embarrassment. His expression twitched, but he tried to keep it neutral.
"I swear I can still feel your handprint on my butt," Lala whimpered dramatically. "It's almost like I've been branded by your hand."
Momo buried her entire face in her bowl, practically willing herself to disappear. Seiko, however, continued staring at Clark in silence, her poker face somehow heavier than words.
Clark finally turned toward Lala, his voice monotone and accusing. "You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"
"Doing what?" Lala blinked innocently, as if she had no idea what he meant.
Seiko finally broke her silence, her gaze unwavering. "When you're doing things like that," she said flatly, "do it in your Fortress. Don't do it here."
Clark sighed, holding his forehead with one hand. Lala's eyes lit up."Fortress? What fortress?"
Momo, who had been hiding behind her food, perked up and pouted. "It's some secret palace Clark has where he goes to train. He's stingy and won't invite us inside."
"Cool! Can I come and see it?!" Lala asked, her excitement bursting out in her voice.
"Sure," Clark said with a casual shrug, as if it were nothing.
"Yes!!" Lala cheered, pumping her fist into the air.
"Wha—! Hey now!" Momo slammed her hands on the table, her voice sharp with indignation. "I've asked you before and you declined! What kind of bullshit is this?!"
"That's because you had no reason to be there," Clark replied calmly. "I was already planning to invite Lala—even if she's being a pain in the ass today."
"Hey!" Lala huffed, puffing her cheeks.
Clark ignored her completely and continued, "I wanted to consult her for some side projects I've been working on. She may appear ditzy, an airhead, a total bimbo in every sense of the word—"
"I'm sitting right here…" Lala muttered, twitching.
"—but I can't deny her inventions are impressive, even if half of them are weird. If I keep an eye on what she builds, the chances of disaster are lower." He turned to Lala, expression sharpening into sincerity. "So, could I ask for your help in creating something for me?"
"Absolutely!" Lala said proudly, her eyes shining with determination. "You can count on me!"
"Can I come too? Please!" Momo suddenly jumped in, clasping her hands together as if praying. "I've been dying to see your Fortress!"
Clark shrugged again, nonchalant. "Whatever."
"Yes!!" Momo shouted, grinning from ear to ear.
Breakfast wrapped up quickly after that, and soon everyone was heading off to school.
…
Classes passed in a blur of lectures, note-taking, and whispered chatter. Every so often, Clark excused himself, slipping out with quiet precision whenever duty called him as Superman. Each time, he returned just quickly enough that no one thought to question where he'd gone.
When lunch finally arrived, Clark wandered toward the staircase that led up to the rooftop. He froze halfway up, his hand lingering on the railing. Memories of the last time he'd been there flickered across his mind—moments he'd rather not relive. Clicking his tongue, he turned around and walked the other way, deciding to avoid it entirely.
The hallways buzzed with energy as students crowded together in little groups. Today, however, one particular crowd had gathered in front of a large wall. Dozens of eyes were fixed on the posted sheet of paper.
Clark glanced up as he passed. It was the results of yesterday's mock exam.
At the very top, written in bold with a perfect score, was his name.
Clark barely reacted. He had already seen the results earlier in the morning. Without so much as a second glance, he kept walking, unaffected by the whispers of admiration and jealousy buzzing around him.
Although he didn't feel thirsty, he liked the act of drinking something, Clark wandered lazily down the hall and pushed into the cafeteria. The hum of students chatting, trays clattering, and vending machines buzzing filled the air, but he ignored all of it. He made a straight line for the row of glowing vending machines, shoulders slightly hunched as if the noise bored him.
He planted himself in front of one, staring at the colorful labels without really reading them. After a long pause, he sighed into his palm and muttered, "Sol…"
In his ear came the AI's perfectly flat response, "This is an abuse of power, Kal-El."
"Just do it," Clark replied without missing a beat, pressing his finger against the picture of a carbonated drink. "I'm not paying for that shit."
A metallic plunk followed, the can tumbling into the tray below. Clark bent down, scooping it up casually. As he cracked it open, the fizz hissed out, and for a moment his eyes shifted sideways.
He didn't even bother to look directly when he asked, "What do you want?"
A cheerful voice answered, "You're Clark, right? Clark Ayase?"
Turning his head, Clark's gaze landed on Yotsuba Nakano standing there, arms tucked behind her back and a wide grin plastered across her face. Her energy radiated like sunshine—too bright, too eager.
"Nope," Clark deadpanned, turning right back around and strolling off while sipping from the can.
"We share gym class together…" Yotsuba tried again, her voice continued to be cheerful, unaffected by his tone or words.
Clark gave her a side glance, unimpressed. "Then why waste my time asking me stupid questions you already know the answer to?" His tone was sharp, clipped, as if words were currency and she was wasting his.
"Because it's supposed to be an opener question," Yotsuba explained, smiling even wider, she for some reason reminded him of a sunflower. "You know… a nice way to start talking and break the ice."
"You're fat enough to do that on your own. Leave me out of it." Clark said as he tilted his head back, pouring the soda down his throat.
The smile froze on her lips. Her face stiffened, then slowly wilted as the shadow of her bangs covered her eyes. When she lifted her gaze again, half her face was cast in darkness, her once-friendly expression twisting into something sharp and venomous. Her hand rested firmly on her hip as her voice dropped, low and warning: "Excuse me? What did you just say to me?"
…
Up above, the rooftop door suddenly slammed open.
"Clark!! Clark-Clark-Clark-Clark-Clark!!" Lois's voice carried before she even appeared, each repetition of his name growing faster, breathless with excitement, calling out his name also sounded like a horse galloping.
She burst through the door holding a laptop high over her head as if it were a trophy, nearly tripping on the last step of the stairs in her rush. "You won't believe it!! I got to meet THE SUPERMAN!! I interviewed Superman!!" she squealed.
Balancing precariously on her head with one hand, she climbed the rungs of the ladder with the other hand. The laptop wobbling dangerously. Somehow, she managed to haul herself up to the roof, her grin so wide it practically glowed.
"Clark—" she called, her voice brimming with joy.
But when her eyes swept the rooftop, her steps faltered. The space was empty. Not a single trace of him.
Her words caught in her throat. "…Clark?"
Her grin slowly faded, the excitement in her eyes. Lowering the laptop from her head, Lois held it closer to her chest, staring at the screen as though it might answer her instead.
Her lips pressed together, trembling into an awkward smile. "You aren't… you aren't avoiding me because of what happened last time, are you?" she whispered to herself, her expression downcast, "I really hope you're not"
She chewed her lower lip, staring down at the laptop. On the screen, the article headline stared back at her:
"Superman: The Last Son of Krypton"
Subheading: Man of Steel, Heart of Gold.
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