[Cecil]
"Sir, you sure you just want to leave him alone?" Donald Ferguson asked.
"We're partly responsible for why he's like this, Donald," I told him. "It's our fault, our mistake that we couldn't find him sooner."
"Someone with his range of powers, we left him alone for far too long. I reckon he's not in that path yet, but if we leave him alone, sir, I think that might cause quite a problem."
I sighed. "Right now, he's our best bet, along with Mark, to fight whoever is from Nolan's planet. So, I think, yeah, we're gonna have to leave him alone."
"But don't you worry, he'll come right back here."
...
...
-----------------------
[Kaito]
"Sir!" I snapped out, the cashier's voice cutting through the heavy hum in my head.
She tapped her pen impatiently on the counter. "Cash or card?"
"Oh, yeah, the order." My fingers fumbled in my pocket, the crumpled bills feeling slick in my palm. Normal. Pay for food, get change. But nothing felt normal anymore, not since the lizard monster, not since Cecil's cool, calculating gaze. I handed over the money, my gaze darting around the brightly lit fast-food joint, half-expecting a GDA agent to appear in the reflection of the soda dispenser.
She gave me a polite smile as she took the money and counted out my change. "Here you go," she said, sliding the coins and receipt across the counter. "Your order will be ready in just a few minutes."
"Thanks," I muttered, stuffing the change back into my pocket, the metallic clink a sharp sound against my ringing ears. Maybe I was just being paranoid, the echo of Cecil's warnings still buzzing. But something was wrong. A suffocating wrongness that had clung to me since I'd woken up this morning, a weight pressing on my chest that no amount of deep breaths could dislodge.
A loud buzzer sounded from the kitchen. "Order for Kaito!"
I went to the counter, my hand already reaching for the paper bag.
"Wait, aren't you that—" The cashier's eyes widened, recognition dawning.
I didn't wait. Grabbing the bag, the scent of grease and salt suddenly cloying, I headed for the door, the bell jingling a false cheer as I stepped outside.
The city was a blend of chaos—cars honking, people chattering, the distant hum of an overhead drone. A vibrant, oblivious normal life. But it felt alien, a thin shell over something far more troubling. I took out my phone, a broken Samsung with a spiderweb of cracks across the screen—seven o'clock, on the dot.
I sighed, tucking the phone back into my pocket. The warm paper bag felt heavy, the comfort food I used to crave now an unappetizing lump. My stomach twisted.
I walked down the busy sidewalk, weaving through the crowd. People brushed past me, lost in their own worlds. A reality I could warp, twist, and undo. If I wanted to.
I had time. Assignments done. Senior year is almost over. My plans felt more urgent than ever now—college, a real degree, a life far away from that house, that cage where only I lived now. Because he wasn't human anymore. Not to me. Not a single word from him since god knows when.
I turned down my street, the familiar row of houses feeling like a stage set for a play I no longer belonged in. My house, the last one on the left, a small, slightly run-down place. I unlocked the front door, the click echoing like a gunshot. Every sound felt like a fucking hammer hitting against a bell.
I looked at my room, a dim light glowing from inside. The only place left that felt remotely like mine.
I entered my room, the dim light from my desk lamp casting long shadows. It was messy, familiar. My haven, small as it was. I closed the door behind me, the soft click final, shutting out the rest of the silent, waiting house. I dropped onto my bed, the springs groaning in protest. My phone was still in my pocket, vibrating faintly. A news alert, probably about me. I ignored it.
There was a chessboard on my desk, half-finished. A game I used to play against myself, or sometimes, against him, when he bothered to pretend. I stared at the pieces, thinking. Pawns. Knights. Kings. Pieces that moved according to strict, unbending rules. Unlike me. Unlike the world around me. I had to get out. College. A new city. A place where the rules weren't so transparent, so easy to shatter. A place where I could, maybe, just maybe, be normal again. Or at least, pretend to be.
The dim glow from my desk lamp was the only light that mattered. I peeled off my shirt, the fabric suddenly feeling too tight, too constricting. My skin still prickled, not from the cold, but from the raw exposure of being seen. Everyone knew now. Knew what I was. A freak. A weapon. Something to be feared, or worse, controlled.
I sighed, letting the curtain fall back into place. Sleep wouldn't come easily tonight. My mind raced, replaying the explosion of the monster, the sterile white rooms of the GDA, Cecil's unblinking eyes. And then, the silence of this house. The silence that only grew louder with each passing day.
I dropped onto the bed again, pulling a pillow over my head, trying to muffle the thoughts, the hum, the crushing weight of being Kaito. Just Kaito. A name that felt too small for the power I carried, and too big for the emptiness around me.
...
...
...
...zzzz...zzzz...
"BOOM BOOM, WAKE UP MOTHERPUCKER! IT'S SIX O'CLOCK!" Blasted into my ears, shaking away the sleepiness as if it were doing an exorcism. I threw the alarm clock at the floor, but it didn't shatter, maybe because I encased it in a metal shell.
I lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, the same cracked plaster I'd looked at every morning for years. It felt heavier now, more confining. Six o'clock. Another day. Another stretch of hours to fill, another set of normal things to pretend to do.
The floorboards creaked under my feet as I shuffled toward the bathroom, the hallway cloaked in shadows. I brushed my teeth, one of my most favourite parts of the day, the minty flavour of the toothpaste combined with drinking water after you've done brushing is fucking heavenly.
I took my towel and went for a hot shower. And after... ten minutes, I walked out of the bathroom, the steam escaping the room, looking like it could trigger a smoke detector. I got ready fast, not that I have anything to do now. My entire identity has been exposed, there's no chance that I can lead a normal life now. But I shouldn't complain, I should've just gotten the fuck away from there, but guess what? I have the brain of a Tic Tac.
I played the hero, and where did that get me? I don't know why but... I'm glad.
...
...
I'm glad that I actually saved that kid instead of letting him die. I wish I didn't, but I thank myself for doing it. It's like a paradox.
I pulled on a hoodie, yanked the strings tight.
I stepped outside, the door creaking behind me like it didn't want to let go. The sky was overcast—gray, dull, the kind of morning that made you feel like time wasn't moving forward, just circling the drain.
I didn't have a plan. Just motion. Motion was enough for now.
There, half-taped to a streetlight pole: a flyer. Black and white. Crookedly stapled. It read:
"Do You Feel Broken Yet?" And underneath it, in smaller font—like a whisper printed out: You're not alone. Meet others like you. 14th & Sable. 4 PM. No registration. Just show up.
'The fuck?' I thought as I looked around. Did these people dox me already or did they just see me going around looking like a fucking creep/emo.
"Huh?" I chuckled as I folded the flyer and put it in my pocket.
I stuffed my hands into my hoodie and drifted, aimless, like maybe if I looped the block enough times the universe would tell me what to do next.
By the time I made it back home, it was afternoon. Still two hours till the meet. Two hours to stew. To spiral. Or maybe to prep, though prep for what, I had no idea.
I sat on the edge of my bed, the chessboard still waiting for a move.
I moved a pawn forward.
A knock rattled the front door.
Not loud. Not demanding.
I froze. "Who are you looking for?" I shouted.
The voice on the other side cracked through the door like it didn't belong in this house, in this moment. It was small. Uneven.
"Um… Kaito?"
I opened the door just a crack. And there he was.
The kid. The one I saved from the rubble. Now standing in front of my door, a little cleaner, but still looking like a gust of wind could knock him over.
He clutched a brown paper bag like it was a peace offering. "I—I didn't know where else to go," he said. "I found your address from the school," Damn, they have that information? "I just… I thought maybe you'd want this. Or maybe you'd want to yell at me for showing up. Either way, I figured I owed you something."
I stared at him. This kid had no reason to find me. No reason to care.
"You shouldn't be here," I said, but my voice came out softer than I expected.
He glanced down at his shoes, then held out the bag. "It's just fries. And a milkshake. I didn't know what you liked."
The scent of grease hit me again—like déjà vu, looping from that fast food joint yesterday—but this time it felt... warmer. Still sad. Still off. But less radioactive.
"...You want to come in?" I asked.
His eyes widened. He nodded once, quickly. Like, if he took too long, I'd change my mind.
He stepped inside, careful like he didn't want to disturb anything. I shut the door behind him.
He set the bag on the table, peeled it open, and nudged the fries toward me. "Figured you might not have eaten," he said.
He was right.
I pulled out a chair and sat, arms crossed on the table. "You okay?" I asked, not sure why the words came out.
He gave me a tiny shrug. "I mean, you saved my life. So... yeah? Maybe."
There was a pause. Then he added, voice quieter, "I thought I was gonna die. I saw the claws coming and I—I was ready, y'know? And then everything went white. And then you. Just standing there like something out of a glitch."
I picked up a fry and twirled it between my fingers. "I wasn't trying to be a hero."
"Yeah," he said. "But you were anyway."
That one little decision fucked up my life and now, I'm looking at the decision sitting right in front of me. I do- don't know what to do or say.
"I don't believe that the fact you have superpowers makes you saving me any less heroic...It is reasonable if you had just decided to hide your powers, live a normal life, but you saved me, that makes you my hero, man."
I wasn't a hero. I was just... me.
The kid's gaze held mine, unwavering, like he truly believed what he was saying. I felt a pang of discomfort, unsure how to respond.
I looked away, breaking the spell, and focused on the fries instead. They were congealing, cold and greasy, but I ate one anyway.
The kid watched me, his eyes never leaving mine. "You don't have to say anything," he said softly. "I just... wanted to thank you. In person."
I nodded, still not looking at him. What could I say? That was no big deal? That I'd do it all over again? The truth was, I didn't know if I would. I didn't know what I'd do anymore.
What now? What did he want from me? Did he think I'd become some kind of mentor, guiding him through the superhero world?
Me, a mentor? Hardly.
The kid looked at me, curiosity sparking in his eyes. "What?"
I shook my head. "Nothing. Just... thinking."
He nodded, understanding in his expression. "I think too much too."
"So, how've you been enjoying your 'new' life?" I asked him.
The kid's expression faltered, and for a moment, I saw a glimpse of something deeper, something that went beyond gratitude or admiration.
"It's... different." He said, his tone carrying a weight of something. "One minute I was a normal kid, and next I'm not."
"It's only been two days since that incident, and an adjustment period is expected," I said, trying to offer some reassurance. "It's not easy to process everything that's happened. Give yourself time."
The kid nodded, his eyes dropping to the table. "I guess you're right. It's just... a lot to take in."
"Hey, I see that flyer in your pocket, what's it about?" He asked me.
I stopped for a moment. "Oh, it's nothing, the first rule of it says I can't talk about it."
"Oh, come on. I know my movies, dude." He told me. "Seriously, what's it about?" he asked me.
I sighed. "It's like a meet, for 'others like me'," I told him. "Now, hold up, I don't know what it actually means," I told him, pulling out the flyer from my pocket. I opened it up and put it on the table.
"Well, now that you're here, you wanna come? Just so you know," I took out my phone and set my destination to that place in Google Maps. "It's 2 hours away from here."
"You're not sure what it's about?" he asked, his voice laced with skepticism.I shook my head.
"No, I found this flyer and I'm not sure what to expect. But I'm going to check it out."
The kid nodded thoughtfully. "I see. Well, if you're going, I'll go with you."
I raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"
"Yeah, I've got nothing to do anyway." He told me.
"Okay, I'll book a cab."
I pulled out my phone and started searching for a cab-hailing app. "I'll book a ride. We can head out soon."
The kid nodded, his eyes fixed on the flyer. "You think it'll be okay?" he asked, his voice laced with uncertainty.
I shrugged. "I don't know. But we can try."
...
...
...
[14th & Sable, the meeting place, 4:00 P.M.]
I stepped out of the cab, looking at the building. I quickly paid the guy, and as he took off, I turned back to the building.
"Ready to do this?" I asked him.
He nodded, his eyes fixed on the building. "Yeah, let's go."
I took a deep breath and stepped forward, pushing open the door. As we entered, I looked around, taking in the faces. The room was dimly lit, with a few people scattered around.
They all seemed to be waiting for something, or someone.
I felt a sense of unease, unsure of what to expect. The kid was standing beside me, his eyes scanning the room.
"What now?" he whispered.
I shrugged. "I don't know. Let's just wait and see."
We stood there for a moment, before we were greeted by a woman, hot as fuck by the way.
"Looks like you brought a guest, no worries."
She smiled warmly, her eyes flicking between us. "Welcome, both of you. I'm glad you're here."
I raised an eyebrow, unsure of what to make of her friendly demeanor. The kid seemed to relax a bit, his shoulders easing down as he returned her smile.
"Thanks," I said, my voice neutral. "We're just here to see what this is about."
The woman nodded, her gaze sweeping the room. "Let's get started, then. Please, take a seat and we'll begin."
We followed her to a circle of chairs, the other attendees watching us with varying degrees of curiosity and suspicion. I sat down, the kid beside me, and waited for whatever was going to happen next.
The woman began to speak, her voice calm and soothing. "Welcome, everyone, to this gathering. My name is Anna and I'm here to facilitate our discussion."
I raised up my hand, "So JUST for future references, does everyone in this room have... powers?"
Anna gave a small, knowing smile, the kind you'd see on a therapist who's heard way too much but still finds it cute when someone thinks they're the first to ask.
"Good question," she said, clasping her hands together like a yoga instructor about to explain how chakras align with the IRS. "Let's just say... everyone here is different in a way the world doesn't always understand."
"So that's a yes," I muttered, slumping back in my chair.
The kid beside me leaned over and whispered, "That was the most HR-speak way of saying 'we're all freaks' I've ever heard."
Anna smirked, clearly catching that, but she let it slide. "Some of us have... abilities. Others are connected to events or changes that have made life difficult. What matters is you're here. You showed up. And that's not nothing."
"Okay," I said, arms crossed. "So, what, this is a therapy circle for people who can bench-press tanks or shoot lasers out of their nostrils?"
"No lasers so far," she said, "but you're not wrong. We meet because it helps to talk. And no one here's going to flinch if you say you melted a bus stop by accident."
A guy across the circle—maybe thirty, wearing a hoodie with the sleeves torn off and arms covered in faint scorch marks—nodded solemnly. "Been there."
"Jesus," I whispered. "I was joking."
"Not everyone is," Anna said with a calmness that made my sarcasm feel like throwing water on a grease fire. "The world doesn't prepare you for powers. Or for the trauma that comes with being treated like a weapon instead of a person."
The room went quiet for a beat. That word hung there—weapon—too accurate, too real. I looked down. The kid next to me glanced at me, then reached for a fry from the bag we still had. Bold little shit.
"So what do we do now?" I asked. "Group hug? Burn our superhero licenses in a ritual?"
Anna chuckled. "We talk. That's all. You can say as much or as little as you want. No one's here to fix you. We're here to understand."
A woman on the far side of the circle raised her hand. "I'll start. My name's Becca. I short-circuit electronics when I get nervous. Lost three phones this week. And a blender."
"Hi Becca," the room murmured.
The kid leaned closer to me again. "This is so weird."
"Yeah," I said. "But weird's kind of my normal now."
Anna looked at me expectantly. "Kaito, was it?"
I hesitated. Everyone was watching, but not like they wanted something. More like they were waiting to see if I'd jump, or bolt.
I cleared my throat. "Yeah. I'm... Kaito. I manipulate reality. Sort of. I break laws. Not the ones you're thinking, I mean the laws of physics and recently, I killed a lizard monster and now my life is public property."
"Yeah, everyone knows you, you're like the hottest topic of the week. You're quite fucking viral."
Becca snorted. "Yeah, TMZ said your cheekbones caused a five-car pileup. Congrats."
A few people laughed, and someone in the back went, "Dude does look like he walked out of a dystopian magazine spread."
I rolled my eyes, but the corner of my mouth twitched. "Cool. Can we get back to the part where I'm a walking existential threat instead of a thirst trap?"
The kid beside me leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, all smug. "Can't it be both?"
I shot him a look. "You're getting real bold for someone who brought me lukewarm fries."
Anna chuckled, stepping in before the roast session escalated into a full-blown TikTok thread. "Humor's a coping mechanism. A damn effective one, too."
"No shit," I muttered.
"But let's sit with what you said, Kaito," she added, her tone softening. "You said you manipulate reality. That's... big. Heavy. So tell me—what does that feel like for you?"
"If I answer it truthfully, you won't see me the same," I told them.
"You can tell us, we listen and we don't judge." she told me.
"Okay, then, I feel like... a god."