Author's Note: Watch closely for the moment Ayumi's hands start to shake. It's your turn to recognize. Can you?
POV: Ayumi SakamotoWord Count: ~3,400
Ayumi Sakamoto had spent the last sixteen hours trying to pretend that yesterday hadn't happened.
It wasn't working.
She sat at her desk, homework spread out in her color-coded system—blue for urgent, green for medium priority, yellow for long-term. Everything labeled, everything tracked, everything under control.
Except yesterday had happened, and no amount of organization could erase the memory of being humiliated in front of thirty classmates by Kaito Endo's stupid prank.
Her hand moved to her lower back unconsciously, fingertips grazing where that air blast had hit. No mark. No bruise. Just the memory of that thwap sound and the sensation—intimate, invasive, wrong. The coolness that had lingered, making her hyperaware of that specific area in a way that made her skin crawl even now.
And the laughter. God, the laughter.
Her phone buzzed. Then again. Three times.
Mina: OMG did you hear???
Mina: Kaito got suspended for THREE DAYS
Mina: He has to write you a formal apology
Three days. For humiliating her with his penis-shaped device, for violating her space, for making her a punchline—three days.
It didn't feel like enough.
Her phone buzzed again. Different number.
Unknown: Is this Ayumi Sakamoto?
She frowned. She didn't give her number to strangers.
Ayumi: Who is this?
Unknown: My name is Takeshi Ren. I'm a third-year at your school. I need to talk to you about something important. Can we meet?
Takeshi Ren. The name tugged at memory—quiet third-year, dated that cheerful girl Miko. Seemed nice from what she'd seen.
But that didn't explain this.
Ayumi: About what?
Takeshi: It would be better to explain in person. Tomorrow, 2 PM, the café across from school? My treat.
Every instinct screamed this was weird. Potentially dangerous. That she should block the number and forget this conversation.
But underneath her careful control was still the girl who asked too many questions, who wanted to understand even when understanding was uncomfortable.
Ayumi: How did you get my number?
Takeshi: From the student directory. I'm sorry for the intrusion. But trust me when I say this matters. This is important, Ayumi.
The use of her first name should have felt presumptuous. Instead, it felt sincere.
Ayumi: Fine. 2 PM tomorrow. But if this is some kind of joke, I'm leaving immediately.
Takeshi: It's not a joke. Thank you. You won't regret it.
The café was one of those trendy vintage places—mismatched furniture, exposed brick, chalkboard menu. Ayumi arrived exactly at 2 PM and found Takeshi already waiting.
He looked up when she entered, and his expression was... kind. Not predatory or weird. Just genuinely, disarmingly kind.
"Ayumi," he said, standing. "Thank you for coming."
"You have ten minutes," she said, sitting but keeping her bag within reach. Escape route planned. Always have an escape route.
"Fair enough." Takeshi leaned forward slightly. "First question—do you remember what happened in Shibuya about two months ago? The flash of light some people reported?"
She frowned. "Vaguely. Officials said it was probably electrical malfunction. Why?"
"Because that light wasn't random. It was an incident. An explosion of energy that affected roughly eighty people. Most died. The ones who survived—" He paused. "—developed abilities. Powers."
Ayumi stared. "This is a joke."
"It's not."
"Then you're crazy."
"Probably a little." He smiled, but there was steel underneath. "But that doesn't make it untrue. And you're going to develop them too."
"That's ridiculous. I wasn't anywhere near Shibuya."
"The energy spread. Fragments scattered across Tokyo, bonding with people. I've been tracking signatures—energy patterns indicating someone has a fragment but hasn't manifested yet." He met her eyes directly. "You have one, Ayumi. A strong one."
"I don't believe you."
"I know. Which is why I'll prove it.
[ contuine with the core 2 of Chapter 3 ]