[7:39 PM]
The night dropped over Tokyo, swallowing the last glimmers of sunlight. Neon signs buzzed to life, casting glows across the sidewalks and windows. The city had transformed, its skyscrapers like giant circuit boards lit up in electric hues, as if Tokyo itself had entered a different phase of existence once the sun vanished.
Takami sat silently on the floor of the living room, back slightly slouched against the couch. His eyes weren't on the TV, nor on the homework sprawled across the low table in front of Yosuke. Tomoe sat with her knees up, focused on her sketchpad, her little hands clutching a color pencil like it was a magic wand. She was humming quietly, completely immersed in her world of crayons and imagination.
But Takami's mind? It wasn't here. Not really.
His gaze drifted to the phone on the table. He reached out, picked it up, and tried calling again, his thumb hesitated just a second on the contact name: Mom. Before the call could even go through, the door clicked.
It opened.
And she walked in.
Their mother, graceful yet obviously worn out, entered the apartment. She still held that resilient brightness. Her smile was as radiant as ever, though Takami could read beneath it. He always could.
Tomoe spotted her first. "Mommy!" she squealed and dashed into her arms, all energy and joy. Her mom knelt and scooped her up, spinning once with a chuckle, though the weight of fatigue was obvious in her joints.
Yosuke followed after, stretching and yawning exaggeratedly as he offered her a soft hug.
Takami stood now, she turned and wrapped her arms around him, he softened and hugged back.
"You guys eaten yet?" she asked with that usual cheerful pitch, the kind only a mom could keep consistent through stress and exhaustion.
"Mmhmm," Tomoe nodded. "Big brother made rice! And we had ramen when we came back from school!"
"That's nice," she smiled, brushing some hair from Tomoe's face. Then her eyes shifted to Takami with tenderness. "Thank you, Takami."
He rolled his eyes lightly but nodded. "Stop acting like it's not my duty when you're not around. It's okay, Mom."
She laughed softly, more out of appreciation than humor. "Fine, fine. I'll take a quick shower, I'm absolutely exhausted," she said as she headed toward her room.
As soon as she left , Takami's phone buzzed. The caller ID flashed: Twin.
He picked up.
"Hey."
"Sup, dummy," Yuri's voice came through with her usual energy. Smooth, sassy, and unfiltered.
Takami smirked. "I'm good. Been a while."
"Yeah, well," she said, the grin almost audible in her voice. "Guess who's been leveling up recently?"
"Me?"
"No, idiot. Me."
His brows lifted. "You got a system too?"
Yuri groaned. "Not literally, dumbass. I've been training. You know, working on mastering my powers for once. I try to understand it more."
Takami chuckled, though a brief shadow crossed his face. His thoughts flashed back to that chaotic night, the attack, the night he was given the system.
"Yeah, you needed to," he muttered absentmindedly.
"What did you say?" she asked sharply.
"Uh, nothing." He snapped back to the present, shaking the image from his head.
"I heard you," she teased. "You said something shady, I know it."
"What did I say then?"
"...Okay you win," she huffed. "Stop that. You know I hate being left hanging on something I only heard halfway."
"When did that start?" he said with a sly grin.
"You know what? Forget it. I'm taking revenge. Mark my words, dummy. You won't see it coming."
Takami laughed under his breath. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever."
Yuri cleared her throat. "Anyway, the real reason I called. Jimin wants to hang out tomorrow. Evening I think."
"Why didn't he call me?"
"Said your line's been acting up or something. Kept going straight to voicemail."
"Ah. Okay, makes sense. So, usual place?"
"The café," she confirmed. "Not the cabin this time. The lady at the counter's been asking where we've been. It's like we split up or something."
"Yeah, it has been a while since we went there together," Takami said, feeling a twinge of nostalgia. "Alright. See you there."
"Good. Sleep tight, dummy," Yuri said with a small laugh before hanging up.
Takami sighed, then stood and headed toward his room. He collapsed onto the bed, half on, half off, legs still dangling.
He stared at the ceiling for a moment, his thoughts spiraling.
"I really haven't realized how much the system's been isolating me from the little social life I had. And I remember telling Yuri I wouldn't fall for this…"
His words hung in the air, soft and filled with a tired sort of clarity. The kind that came when everything was finally quiet.
A sudden weight pressed against his legs.
Velis, leapt onto the bed. Its soft fur brushed against Takami's skin as it curled up lazily by his side.
Takami sat up and gently scratched its head. Velis purred softly, blinking its mixed colored eyes.
Then Takami noticed the empty food bowl by the wall.
"Ahh, my bad." He stood up, went to the desk, and grabbed the sealed bag of cat food. He poured a generous amount into the bowl.
Velis headed over and began eating.
Takami leaned against the doorframe, arms folded. The corner of his lips tugged upward. "At least you're easy to please."
He returned to his bed and this time let gravity take full control, falling face-first into the mattress. A muffled groan escaped his lips.
"Life sure is a lot of work," he muttered into the sheets.
Seconds passed. Then minutes. Sleep stole him quietly.
Next Morning.
The alarm didn't need to scream. Takami stirred on his own as the early morning chill crawled through the slightly open window. The first strands of sunlight were enough to nudge his internal clock awake.
He sat up slowly, yawning wide with a stretch that made his shoulders crack. His hair was a mess, poking out like it'd fought a spirit in his sleep. He rubbed his eyes, then ran a hand through it lazily before dragging himself out of bed and heading straight to the bathroom.
The routine kicked in.
Toothpaste, brush, scrub, rinse. He stepped into the shower, letting the cold water splash over him. Sharp and refreshing, it was like a static shock to the nerves, a reminder that he was still alive, still breathing, and still himself… for now.
By the time he stepped out, towel hanging off his shoulders, he checked his phone. 6:18 AM.
"Okay," he muttered to himself, satisfied.
On the floor, Velis was spread like a puddle of fur, stretching. Its tail flicked once.
"Lazy cat," Takami said with a teasing whisper, a tired grin tugging at his lips.
Velis yawned in response, clearly unbothered.
Moments later, dressed in a black tee, sweats, and track shoes, gym bag over his shoulder, Takami stepped out into the crisp Tokyo dawn. The city hadn't fully awakened yet. Cars still sparse, streets quiet, the occasional jogger running past with headphones in. The world, in this hour, still felt human.
By the time he arrived at the gym, the building was lit but not crowded. Yet, something was off.
The second he stepped through the door, he could feel the eyes on him.
It was subtle at first. Then a few murmurs. A couple of glances from people he didn't recognize.
Takami kept walking. Ignore it. It'll pass.
But it didn't.
A slim, eager-looking guy approached. He had the nervous energy of someone building up courage the entire time Takami walked in.
"Hey," the guy greeted.
Takami turned to him, blinking. "Yeah?"
"Can I, you know... train with you today?" he asked, already scratching the back of his neck nervously. "You've, like, really changed since the last time I saw you here. Seriously, man. Maybe I could learn your training style?"
Takami raised a brow. "No."
He was confused, politely, but firmly trying to walk off.
The guy stepped in front of him again, arms half-raised.
"Hey hey, please. Come on. You just had a dope transformation. Don't keep the cheat code to yourself. Bro code, right?"
Takami palmed his face, exhaling deeply. Why did this feel like a bad slice-of-life side quest?
"You sure about this?" he asked, voice flat, tone warning.
"Is that a yes?" the guy grinned. "If it is, then yeah I'm fully sure."
Takami didn't answer. He just walked past him and headed for the mats.
The guy followed, cheerful as a puppy.
Takami pulled off his jacket, revealing a black training singlet that hugged his toned frame. His muscles weren't bulky, but they were defined through a rhythm of combat, training, and life-or-death situations this guy would never guess.
He dropped into a push-up stance on the mat.
The guy mimicked him and waited.
"Stop when I do," Takami said calmly.
And then he started.
Each push-up was clean, sharp, consistent, like a piston. By the time they hit seventy, the guy was visibly shaking, arms trembling.
Ten more and he dropped, chest heaving against the mat. "N-Nah..."
Takami kept going.
By the time Takami hit two hundred, he shifted into sit-ups without missing a beat.
The guy was still on the floor, eyes wide. "W-Who even is this guy...?"
Another two hundred sit-ups later, Takami stood and walked calmly to the treadmill. He keyed in a high speed, stepped on, and began to run.
His breathing was clearly heavier now. Focused. There was a presence about him now. Not flashy or dramatic. Just solid. Earned.
When the session finally ended, Takami stepped off the machine, sweat beading across his skin like raindrops. He walked over to the bench, grabbed his towel, and wiped his face and arms. He slung it over his head, leaning forward slightly as his breathing slowed.
The guy walked up sheepishly.
He bowed slightly. "T-Thank you very much. I, uh… I'll try to mind my business next time."
Takami gave a small snort of laughter, almost involuntarily.
The guy scurried off, thoroughly humbled.
Mount Fuji – Phantom Order Lab
Far from the city's comfort, a harsh wind howled across the snow-kissed flanks of Mount Fuji. Hidden within its subterranean arteries, the Phantom Order's research facility hummed with sterile light and cold precision.
Inside a chamber bathed in white-blue hues, the Containment Room.
Two massive glass tanks stood side by side. Inside them, suspended in liquid were the avatars.
The fluid bubbled gently, filtering through tubes, sensors, and nutrient regulators. Around them, consoles flickered. Scientists in lab coats worked silently, murmuring to each other.
The heavy sliding door opened with a hiss.
Mizuno entered, hands behind his back, face sharp and unreadable. The pressure in the room changed. He walked with precision.
"Good morning, sir," the scientists chorused in unison, eyes snapping up.
Mizuno waved a hand dismissively, eyes fixed ahead.
He walked forward until he stood before the two tanks. His gaze pierced into them, not with curiosity, but with expectation.
Then his eyes narrowed. He sat on a chair close.
"Check the vitals of Number Two," he said, voice low and deliberate.
Several fingers moved over touchscreens and consoles.
One scientist responded, "Nothing, sir. Still dormant. All signals are flat."
Mizuno's leg crossed over the other as he calmly sat in the chair facing the tanks.
"Hmm," he muttered, eyes never leaving the second tank. "I don't agree with that…Number Two is waking up."
Another scientist glanced up nervously. "Are you sure, sir? The vitals still remai—"
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
Suddenly, alarm lights on the side of the console blinked red. Graph lines spiked erratically. Symbols changed. The once-flat indicators came alive like a heart restarting.
The scientists scrambled. "Sir! You're right. Number Two is regaining consciousness!"
Inside the tank, the body remained suspended. Still. But then…
A twitch.
Just a small movement.
Fingers curled.
Mizuno's eyes glinted, a smile forming.
"Get ready then," he said calmly. "Everything from now remains unpredictable."