September 2024 – Tokyo

“Golden hair, red eyes, and a killer physique—yeah, that’s not me. He’s the popular guy in my class,” I muttered to myself, watching as Homura Ryuji strutted down the hallway, flanked by his usual crowd of admirers. The girls giggled at his every word, and even some of the guys shot him envious glances. “I’m the nerdy-looking guy with glasses and oversized clothes, just trying to blend into the background.”

It wasn’t that I had to hide, but it had become second nature. Keep quiet, stay unnoticed. And that was just how I liked it.

My name is Tanaka Kaito. I’m 16 years old, born in 2008, and a first-year high schooler at this school. To most people, I’m just another face in the crowd—the quiet, average kid who doesn’t stand out. Someone told me a long time ago to keep it that way, and I’ve taken that advice to heart. But there’s one big secret I keep buried, deeper than the surface.

I’m awakened—one of the rare few born with powers.

Yeah, sounds cool, right? Well, in reality, it’s more of a curse than anything else. There’s a reason people like me keep ourselves hidden. People fear what they don’t understand, and powers like mine? They’re the kind that draw unwanted attention. If you stand out, you risk becoming a target. I might joke about being like Batman sometimes—lurking in the shadows—but there’s more truth to that than I care to admit.

I sat in the back of class, pretending to take notes, but my mind was somewhere else. The lesson was droning on about history—dates and events I could barely care about. The teacher’s voice faded into the background as I stared out the window. The sky was clear, an endless blue that stretched beyond the horizon. A couple of birds soared in the distance, and for a brief moment, I wished I could just fly away, escape from this world, and leave all my problems behind.

But no. I had to keep my feet on the ground. Powers or not, I still had to live this life—at least on the outside. My best friend, Hiro, sat a few seats away, eyes glued to his phone under the desk. Most likely watching another episode of whatever anime he was obsessing over. He was too caught up in his world to notice what I was really going through, and I liked it that way. He never asked questions I didn’t want to answer, and I never had to lie to him.

Lunchtime came, and Hiro and I found our usual spot under the shade of a cherry blossom tree. He rambled on about some new anime he’d started watching—his excitement was contagious, even though I didn’t share the same enthusiasm. I just smiled, nodding here and there, letting him talk. Hiro never asked too much of me, and that was how I liked it.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. I gathered my things and waved at Hiro. “See you tomorrow,” I said, my voice casual, almost indifferent. Hiro barely looked up from his phone and gave me a half-hearted wave before diving back into his screen.

The walk home was peaceful, just the way I liked it. The streets were lined with cherry blossom trees, their pink petals drifting lazily to the ground like soft, pastel snowflakes. The sun was dipping low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. The hum of the city filled the air—the distant sounds of cars passing, the chatter of pedestrians, and the occasional bark of a dog.

My neighborhood wasn’t particularly busy, but there was always something happening. It felt alive. But no matter how busy the world around me got, I always felt like I was in my own little bubble. Keeping my distance, observing, but never fully engaging. It was safer that way. Less risk.

But then, it happened.

Just as I was turning the corner, heading toward the quieter street that led to my house, I saw them—a group of elementary school kids, probably about ten years old, carelessly crossing the road. They were laughing, pushing each other, completely unaware of the truck speeding toward them.

My heart froze. Everything around me seemed to slow down.

I didn’t think. I just acted.

I dropped my bag and sprinted forward. Faster than any normal person should be able to move. The world around me blurred as I dashed toward the kids. The surge of kinetic energy rushed through my body, my muscles pushing beyond their limits. I reached them just in time, shoving them out of the way as the truck bore down on us.

I could feel the energy coursing through me, my power amplifying my speed and strength. In that split second, I propelled the kids far enough to escape the truck's path, my own body skidding to a stop just in time. The truck roared past, inches away from us.

The kids blinked, confused and startled, but they were alive. They had no idea what had just happened. To them, I was just a blur, an unexpected gust of wind that swept them out of harm's way. Before anyone could process what had occurred, I was already gone, disappearing around the corner, my heart still racing.

I leaned against the wall of a nearby building, catching my breath. My hands trembled, the adrenaline still pumping through me. That was too close.

I couldn’t afford to slip up again.

No one could know. No one should ever know.

With a final glance back at the street, I picked up my bag and hurried home, head down, trying to blend back into the background. Just another day in the life of someone who wasn’t supposed to exist.