It was early morning—around 7:30—and rain drizzled steadily from a grayish blue sky. The city was already awake. Shoes splashed softly against the pavement as people hurried to work, coats pulled tight, umbrellas blooming like dark flowers along the streets.
Near the road, a shallow puddle trembled with every raindrop. The reflection of the sky shivered across its surface. Just beyond, a small football pitch stretched out, its grass darkened and slick with rain. Despite the weather, children were still playing, their laughter cutting through the dull morning as they chased the ball across the soaked field.
Chirp. Chirp. Chirp.
The sound echoed faintly, blending with the rain and the distant hum of the city.
From above, the scene unfolded like a living map. The pitch lay below, shining with moisture, the children moving like bright sparks against the gray ground. Along the path beside the field, adults passed by in steady streams, most of them ordinary—heads down, steps quick, minds fixed on work.
But not all of them walked.
One figure drifted through the air, hovering effortlessly above the street, rain sliding off them as if gravity itself had loosened its grip. Nearby, another person glided forward atop a thin stream of flowing water, the pavement parting beneath their feet. These sights barely drew attention. In this world, such things were not a miracle—they were normal.
The rain kept falling, washing over the city without pause. Above the football pitch and the passing crowds, the morning moved on, indifferent to laughter, powers, and routine alike. Life continued—noisy, crowded, alive.
But not everywhere.
A few streets away, tucked inside a quiet apartment building, the world felt hollow.
Kanasei's apartment lay in near darkness. The lights were off, untouched. Thin strands of sunlight slipped through the windows, strained and weakened by drawn curtains, casting pale lines across the room. Dust floated lazily in the air, caught in that dull glow.
The air itself seemed heavy.
Then the quiet broke.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
The digital alarm pierced the stillness, sharp and mechanical, echoing off the bare walls. From the bed, a pale hand emerged from beneath the sheets, moving without urgency. Kanasei reached out blindly until his fingers found the clock.
Click.
The sound cut the noise cleanly.
Silence returned, thicker than before.
After a moment, Kanasei slowly pushed himself upright, sitting at the very edge of the bed. He rubbed at his eyes, shoulders slumped, his posture already tired as if the day had exhausted him before it had even begun. The dim light brushed against the side of his face, never fully revealing it, leaving him half-hidden in shadow.
Morning had arrived.
And he looked like someone who wished it hadn't.
Kanasei stood up from the bed, his movements sluggish, as if gravity weighed heavier on him than it did on everyone else. The floor was cold beneath his feet as he dragged himself across the dark room, each step quiet, unhurried.
He stopped in front of the bathroom door and reached for the handle.
Click.
The door opened, and light spilled out instantly. It stretched across the bedroom floor, cutting through the darkness in a sharp line, exposing the mess of shadows the curtains had hidden. For a brief moment, the light framed Kanasei's silhouette, thin and still, caught between night and morning.
Then he stepped forward and disappeared into the bathroom.
The door remained open behind him, the glow continuing to bleed into the room as the day pressed in, whether he was ready for it or not.
The bathroom light was harsh against Kanasei's skin as he moved inside. He stood for a moment under the fluorescent glare, the quiet hum of the water heater filling the silence. A mirror hung on the wall, and for a second, he caught his own reflection—pale, tired, eyes still half-closed. He leaned forward, splashing cold water onto his face, the droplets running down to mingle with the damp strands of hair that clung to his forehead.
He dried himself off lazily, the towel rough against his skin, and without urgency, left the bathroom. The light followed him into the bedroom, casting long lines across the floor, illuminating the path toward his closet.
Kanasei stopped in front of it, hands hovering over the handles for a moment before he pulled open the door. Inside, his clothes waited in neat disarray, the familiar textures and colors grounding him slightly in the otherwise oppressive quiet.
He began to pull off his pajama shirt, fingers working lazily over the soft fabric. He didn't reveal much, just lifting it halfway up his torso before the movement slowed, letting the small rustle of cloth echo in the still room.
Kanasei finished pulling on his black shirt and jacket, the red sleeves hanging loosely from his arms. He exhaled slowly, straightened his posture just enough to lessen the forward tilt of his head, and stepped toward the bedroom door.
Click.
The door closed behind him, cutting off the last trace of bedroom shadow, and he moved down the short hallway toward the kitchen. Each step echoed softly against the floorboards.
The kitchen was small and sparse. Kanasei reached for a pan, placing it carefully on the stove. He flicked the burner on.
Fffshhhh.
Steam hissed as the metal warmed, a tiny promise of something to come. From the refrigerator, he retrieved an egg, cracked it carefully against the edge of the pan, and let it fall. The yolk settled, bright against the hot surface.
He stood there for a moment as it sizzled, tall and broad, the tips of his black-and-red hair brushing against his jacket's collar, eyes half-lidded in habitual fatigue. He watched the egg cook, listening to the rain pattering outside and the quiet hiss of the pan.
The heat on the pan eventually died down. Kanasei slid the egg onto a plate with little care, the edges slightly crisped, the yolk still intact. He turned the stove off and carried the plate over to the table near the kitchen's entrance and set it down.
The porcelain made a soft sound as it met the surface.
He pulled a chair out, the legs scraping faintly against the floor, and lowered himself into it. The chair creaked under his height as he leaned forward slightly, shoulders relaxed beneath the loose jacket.
Kanasei began to eat, movements slow and mechanical, eyes unfocused as he stared down at the plate.
Kanasei finished eating in silence. He stood from the table, carried the plate to the kitchen sink, and set it down beneath the faucet. Water ran softly as he rinsed away the remnants of his meal, the sound filling the apartment in place of thought. He scrubbed the plate clean, set it aside, then washed his hands.
He moved toward the front door, the apartment unchanged—dim, still, indifferent. Fingers slipped into his black, fingerless gloves, and for a moment, he glanced at the half-zipped zipper, the red line running down the front of his jacket. Slipping on his sneakers, he straightened and reached for the handle. He adjusted the headphones around his neck, the silver-grey ear cups glinting faintly in the dim morning light.
The door opened.
Sunlight poured in all at once, sharp and blinding after the darkness inside. Kanasei lifted a hand to shield his eyes, standing tall in the doorway as his form dissolved into silhouette.
Slowly, his vision adjusted. Black hair tipped with red caught the light. The headphones around his neck glinted faintly, and the loose jacket shifted as he lowered his hand. His half-lidded eyes finally met the morning.
Click.
Kanasei closed the door behind him and began his descent down the narrow staircase. His footsteps echoed softly as he moved, unhurried. Outside, the rain had finally eased, leaving the air cold and washed in pale blue light. Puddles clung to the road, reflecting the sky in fractured pieces. He stepped onto the street and headed toward his college.
Despite his height—towering over most people he passed—and the way his presence made him seem older, Kanasei was nineteen. A bag hung from his right shoulder, his hand gripping the strap out of habit as he walked. His posture leaned slightly forward, eyes half-lidded, gaze unfocused.
People hurried past on foot, others ran, some hovered above the ground, and a few drifted through the air as if the rules of gravity barely applied to them. Kanasei barely noticed. His thoughts had already pulled him elsewhere.
I should've gone earlier to study a bit more…
By the time Kanasei reached his college, the grounds were already alive with noise. He passed through the open gates, tall frame slipping between clusters of students deep in conversation. Laughter, overlapping voices, and hurried footsteps blended into a constant hum as people moved in every direction.
He had taken only a few steps inside when hands suddenly landed on his shoulders.
Before Kanasei could react, a weight pressed down and a figure vaulted upward, using him as leverage. Someone pushed off his shoulders and flipped lightly into the air, landing beside Kanasei.
It was Nobu Yasu.
"Yo!" Nobu said as he hit the ground, grinning like he hadn't just startled half the people nearby.
Kanasei stopped. He turned slowly, gaze settling on Nobu with visible irritation. Nobu, unfazed, held out his hand for a dap-up, arm frozen mid-air as if the gesture were inevitable. Kanasei stared at it for a moment.
"Can you greet me normally?" he said flatly.
Without waiting for a response, Kanasei shook his head and walked past him, continuing deeper into the campus. Nobu remained where he was, hand still raised, blinking once as he watched Kanasei disappear into the crowd.
Nobu sprinted after him, long legs pumping as he called out, voice loud enough to turn heads.
"Wait up, you fricking giraffe!"
Kanasei didn't bother to turn. His stride stayed steady, almost lethargic, the bag over his shoulder swinging lightly with each step. Nobu's shout echoed behind him, bouncing off the campus buildings, but Kanasei remained unmoved.
Before Kanasei could react, a quick smack landed on the back of his head.
"Ow!" he muttered quietly, though not with much emotion.
Nobu grinned, unbothered, and darted off ahead, leaving the taller figure trailing silently.
From the corner of the courtyard, partially hidden in shadow, a figure watched them. Only a sliver of the person was visible, a dark silhouette framed against the sunlight. Their posture was still, unreadable, but their gaze was fixed intently on Nobu and Kanasei as they moved further away.