[13 years later...]
I sat on my chair, resting my legs on the table. It was the lunch break, everyone was out of the classroom. I slowly took out my headphones and wore them.
The usual noise of the schoolyard outside was muffled as the bass of some random track filled my ears. I didn't care what I listened to; it was just background noise. I liked it that way. The world had a way of getting too loud, so I needed something to drown it out.
I leaned back in the chair, letting it creak under me, and stared at the ceiling. The fluorescent lights buzzed like angry bees in a jar.
Thirteen years had passed. Thirteen years since everything changed that day.
That moment when I thought I was invincible.
But reality, like a cruel joke, had a way of slapping you in the face. My powers weren't this gift, this shining beacon that I thought they were. They were a burden. A curse, almost.
Friction. Gravity. Nerve signals. It was all still there, buried inside me like a maze of contradictions I could barely navigate. Some days, I barely felt it. Others, it was like the world was about to implode. It got worse the longer I ignored it. The pressure, the pulse under my skin, the hum in my ears when I did something stupid, like losing control of the air pressure in the room just by thinking too hard.
And the headaches. Don't get me started on the headaches.
I was 18 now. A grown-up, in some eyes. But I hadn't grown up, not in the ways that matter. You could have called me a walking, talking contradiction. On the outside, I was fine—good grades, smooth talker when I wanted to be. Hell, I could blend in better than a chameleon at a costume party. But on the inside?
Well, that was another story.
I flexed my fingers absentmindedly, the dull throb in my bones reminding me of that day, of all the days before. When I was just a kid trying to make sense of this mess. Now? Now, I was just trying to keep the walls from cracking. To keep the whole damn house from falling apart.
The door swung open, and one of the teachers peeked inside. "You coming out, Kaito? It's lunch break, go eat something.
She lingered in the doorway for a second, like she wasn't sure if she should push it or not. I could hear the faint shuffle of her shoes on the tile, the sound of hesitation. Then she sighed.
"Alright, just... don't be holed up in here all day, okay?"
I didn't answer. I didn't have to. She knew the deal by now. I wasn't some model student, but I wasn't causing trouble either. I kept to myself. And that was enough for most people.
The door clicked shut behind her, and I was alone again. Perfectly fine with that.
I took the headphones off, letting the silence fill the space. The music in my head was still lingering, even though it was gone from my ears. It wasn't like it was my silence, but it felt more like a void I could control. And I needed that control, even if it was just over this little corner of the world.
I ran my hand through my hair and slouched further into the chair, pushing my feet up on the desk, still staring at the ceiling.
Sometimes I wondered if I'd ever figure out what this all was. If I could just crack the code of these damn powers. But the longer I sat with them, the less clear it became. Every time I felt like I understood something, something new hit me like a punch in the gut.
Yeah, maybe I was a bit hungry, so I slowly opened my eyes, placing my headphones in my bag. Before I could settle back in, I was suddenly struck on the head by a book. I groaned.
"Ronnie, my guy. Do me a favour, will ya'?" I stood up.
"Hey, hey, hey, it was just a mistake, chill out." He laughed. I knew he was lying. But I also knew people like him were not worth dealing with.
I rubbed the back of my head, trying to shake off the dull throb from where the book hit. My gaze shot toward Ronnie, who was leaning against the doorframe like he had all the time in the world. His usual smirk was plastered on his face, like he was always one step away from getting himself into trouble.
"Yeah, sure," I said, my voice flat. "A real accident."
"Nice throw, asshole," I muttered, not even bothering to get up.
He snickered, not at all sorry. "What, you can't take a joke, Kaito?" he said, voice dripping with that faux sweetness he always put on when he wanted to get under my skin. "You're always in here, hiding away like some kind of freak. Just trying to be a little... sociable, y'know?"
"Be a little 'sociable' with someone else, alright? I don't know what's your aim here, but trust me, I don't wanna fuck with you but if you do, I will."
Ronnie raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by my threat. The smirk didn't leave his face; in fact, it just deepened like he was trying to provoke me into making the first move. He always had that ability to twist a situation, to make you feel like you were the one overreacting, even when he was the one being a jackass.
"Oooh, big talk from the quiet kid," he teased, dragging his foot along the floor like he was bored. "What's the matter, Kaito? Too busy hiding away like some kind of freak? Just trying to be a little... sociable, y'know?"
I clenched my jaw, feeling that familiar flicker of tension rise in my chest. I didn't want to snap. I didn't. But Ronnie always found a way to needle under your skin, like an annoying itch you couldn't scratch.
"You think you're clever, don't you?" I said, pushing myself off the chair and walking toward him slowly, deliberately. "But I'm not the one who needs to prove something here."
Ronnie didn't budge. If anything, he leaned in a little more, practically daring me to take a swing. His eyes glinted with that familiar predatory gleam—he knew how to push, how to make you feel small, how to get under your skin until you either broke or gave in.
"You think you're better than everyone, don't you?" he said, voice low and taunting now, a dangerous edge creeping in. "But you're just like all the other losers who can't even talk to anyone without hiding behind some bullshit music or whatever it is you're doing in here. You've been living in your little bubble for too long, Kaito. Newsflash: You're not special. No one cares. People are gonna start noticing."
Alright, I can't take it anymore. I grabbed his head and slammed it onto the table.
The impact of his head slamming onto the desk was satisfying, a sharp thud that reverberated through my palms. Ronnie let out a grunt of surprise, his hands instinctively shooting up to his face as if trying to process what had just happened. His cocky grin faltered for a second, but it quickly shifted back into that irritating, defensive sneer.
I put a hand over his mouth. "You clearly don't know who you're talking to. You think that if you come up to me like a classic high school bully, I would just allow myself to get bullied? You are clearly fucking delusional."
Ronnie's eyes widened for a moment, his body stiffening as if he had just realized he had been dealing with something far more dangerous than he initially thought. He struggled beneath my grip, but I wasn't about to let him off easy. I could feel the pulse in my fingertips, the way the tension built up in my muscles as I held him there.
"You think I care about your little games?" I continued, my voice low, but sharp. "You think I'm just some kid to mess with, just because I stay quiet or keep to myself?" I leaned in closer, feeling the weight of my words sink in.
The fluorescent lights flickered above us, casting long, harsh shadows across the room as I kept my grip firm. The world outside seemed to fade, the noise of the schoolyard a distant hum now, drowned out by the pounding of my own heart. I wasn't sure if I was angry anymore or just... done with this.
"You're nothing but a distraction, Ronnie," I said, my voice colder now. "You don't scare me. You never did. And you never will."
I could see the fear flash in his eyes, the cracks in his bravado starting to show. For all his arrogance, he wasn't prepared for this. Hell, neither was I, but I wasn't backing down.
I gave his head one more shove into the desk, hard enough to make the wood groan under the pressure.
"Here's the deal, Ronnie," I muttered, my grip loosening just enough for him to speak. "You stay the hell out of my way, and I won't make your life miserable. Keep pushing, and we'll see just how long that cocky little smirk lasts, yeah?"
He was silent for a long moment, probably trying to decide if he was going to try to make a scene or back off. I could feel the tension building, like everything was hanging by a thread. He looked like he was weighing his options.
Finally, he muttered, barely audible, "You're crazy, Kaito."
I smirked. "Good. At least you're catching up."
With one last shove, I let him go. Ronnie scrambled back, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, clearly rattled but still trying to hold onto his dignity.
I took a step back, my pulse finally beginning to calm as I stood there, watching him. "Get out of my face, Ronnie," I said, my voice calm again. "If you know what's good for you, you'll take your little temper tantrum elsewhere."
"And hey, if I hear any complaint against me..." I stopped myself. "You get it, right?"
Ronnie shot me one last glare, his jaw tight as he wiped the last of the sweat from his face. He probably wanted to throw something back at me, but the wind had been knocked out of him. For a moment, he just stood there, trying to regain some semblance of his usual cocky posture, but the fear was there. I could see it in the way he clenched his fists, the way he hesitated to take another step toward me.
"Whatever," He muttered.
I finally got out of the classroom and went to the cafeteria.
The cafeteria was as chaotic as ever.
Ronnie was the kind of guy who couldn't take a hint—too dumb to realize when it was time to back off, and too cocky to know when he was out of his depth. I had made it clear enough, but knowing Ronnie, he'd probably be back with a bunch of his buddies soon enough, trying to make me look like the bad guy.
I took a plate and got in line.
I grabbed my food and found a spot at the far end of the cafeteria, away from the usual crowd. People gave me a wide berth—most of them had gotten used to the fact that I wasn't exactly the "sit with the popular kids" kind of guy. I was more like the background noise they tried to forget existed, and that suited me just fine.
I dug into my food, pushing the thoughts aside.
All was fine until *BOOM*.
The sound of the explosion echoed through the walls of the cafeteria, followed by the harsh screech of the fire alarm. The room jolted, and for a split second, everything seemed to freeze. Then chaos. People screamed, some diving under tables, others rushing to the exits. The once bustling cafeteria now turned into a panic zone.
I didn't flinch. Bitch couldn't find anything except this school, huh?
I'll just escape, I have nothing to do around here.
I slowly got up and ran over to the exit. Teachers were screaming orders nobody listened to. It's in human nature not to follow orders, to do the exact opposite of what is told. If I were just as powerless as they are, I'm pretty sure I'd be the same.
But then—
Another boom. Closer this time.
The ground lurched under me, like a giant hand had slapped the whole building from underneath. I stumbled, catching myself on a nearby table.
The screams grew louder, sharper.
Not panic anymore. Terror.
I took a quick glance at the villain, it was a... lizard kinda thing. Fucking gross.
—and big. God, was it big.
Seven, maybe eight feet tall, with scaly green flesh that looked like it hadn't bathed since the dinosaurs dipped out. Jaws lined with rows of jagged teeth, beady yellow eyes flickering with that animalistic hunger that said, "You're on the menu, buddy."
I could still get out of here unscathed. Just need to find the right opening.
Let the teachers play hero, let the wannabe tough guys get eaten first — my plan was simple: exit stage left.
But as I weaved through the mess of overturned chairs and spilled food trays, my eye caught something.
A kid.Probably a freshman. Scrawny, backpack way too big for his body, stuck under a collapsed table, struggling like a bug on its back.
Of course. Of fucking course.
I cursed under my breath. It would've been easy to ignore it. Real easy. Survival instincts said, "Leave him." But some other, dumber part of me — the one that refused to just be like everybody else — made my feet slow down.
Goddammit, Kaito.
I glanced at the lizard thing again. It was tearing into a vending machine like it owed him money, too busy chomping down bags of chips to notice me. Yet.
I sprinted over, sliding across the slick cafeteria floor like a second-rate action movie star, and braced my shoulder against the chunk of table pinning the kid down.
"Move when I say," I barked.
Wide eyes stared up at me. Kid nodded, terror-struck. The thing was metal, and pretty damn heavy.
I broke the gravity affecting the table. I counted under my breath — "One, two, three" — and lifted it.
The metal table, now practically weightless thanks to my power, floated up like a balloon. The freshman scrambled out from underneath it on hands and knees, gasping like he'd just been waterboarded by life itself.
"Go, now," I snapped, tossing the table aside like it was made of cardboard. It clanged against the floor, drawing the attention of... yeah. Mr. Scaly Disaster himself.
The lizard-thing's head whipped around, a low, guttural growl rumbling from deep in its throat. Its beady yellow eyes locked onto me. Great. Because saving one idiot apparently meant earning a personal invitation to get ripped in half.
The kid bolted toward the exit like a bat out of hell, and for a second, I thought maybe I could just also beeline outta there. Just walk away. Blend into the chaos.
But no. The universe decided to flip me the bird yet again.
The lizard thing roared—a full-body, glass-rattling roar—and started charging.
At me.
I reinforced its inertia, stopping it dead in its tracks. And with a flick of my power, I broke its density and with a touch, it burst.
The hallway echoed with panicked footsteps and screaming as the remains of Mr. Scaly Disaster rained down like really gross, chunky confetti.
I stood there, breathing a little heavier, wiping a glob of greenish something off my cheek with the back of my sleeve.
"Gross," I muttered. Well, at least it got done quick, right?