The first rays of dawn, timid and pale, struggled to pierce through Kai Suzuki's room. At precisely 8:00 AM, his jade-black hair, usually a messy testament to his late-night endeavors, barely stirred as he blinked his calm, innocent-looking eyes open. Lazy, one might think, but Kai's mind was anything but. While the world slept, he was wide awake, devouring knowledge until 3 AM, a ritual as essential as breathing, each piece of information a new tool in his ever-expanding arsenal.
With a soft sigh, Kai pushed himself out of bed. The cool air of his room brushed against his skin as he moved towards the bathroom. He splashed cold water onto his face, the invigorating chill a sharp kiss that chased away the last vestiges of sleep. After patting his face dry, he meticulously brushed his teeth, his reflection staring back at him—an eighteen-year-old with an unblemished facade that screamed harmlessness, a canvas upon which he painted his carefully constructed persona. He noted the slight flush on his cheeks from the cold water, the subtle softening of his jawline—all elements that contributed to the innocent image he cultivated.
Dressing was a silent, almost meditative process. He reached for a crisp white shirt, the fabric cool against his fingertips, followed by a pair of neatly pressed dark trousers. Each button was fastened with deliberate precision, every crease smoothed down. He adjusted the collar, ensuring it sat perfectly, an outward projection of the order he maintained within his chaotic, calculating mind. Anyone observing him would see only a picture of unassuming innocence, a boy diligently preparing for another day of school.
He then moved to his desk, where his school bag lay open. Textbooks—Physics, Chemistry, Literature, and other subjects—were neatly stacked and slipped into their designated compartments. But beneath this facade of academic normalcy lay his true interests. He pulled out two worn paperbacks: one was about psychological manipulation, and the other was about unarmed combat. He mostly relied on his phone for digital PDFs, but the no-phone-in-class rule meant these physical copies were his covert companions. They were the true curriculum of his life.
Breakfast was a quick affair—a piece of toast and a glass of milk, consumed while his mind already drifted to the day's potential targets. As he grabbed his bicycle, he put on his headphones, letting the mellow strains of lo-fi music wash over him, a sonic shield against the mundane world and a rhythm for his internal machinations.
The journey to school was a familiar route. He pedaled at a leisurely pace, his gaze scanning the familiar faces he passed. He spotted Haruto, a lanky boy with an infectious grin, accompanied by the quieter, more studious Ren.
"Morning, Kai!" Haruto called out, his voice boisterous.
Kai offered a small, polite smile, just enough warmth to avoid appearing aloof, but not enough to invite genuine connection. "Morning, Haruto, Ren."
"Did you finish the math homework?" Ren asked, adjusting his glasses. "That last problem was a killer."
"It was manageable," Kai replied, his tone even. He didn't elaborate. Let them struggle, let them believe he was just 'manageable.' It made his occasional 'helpfulness' all the more impactful. He viewed these exchanges as necessary social transactions, a means to remain connected to the intricate web of society without truly investing himself. Small talk, he'd concluded long ago, was a necessary waste of time, but a useful one.
Upon reaching school, he parked his bicycle with practiced ease, securing it with a lock. As he walked towards the classroom, his gaze seemed distant, unfocused, deliberately so. It was a subtle art, one he had mastered—projecting an aura of mysteriousness that invited curiosity without demanding engagement.
Stepping into the classroom, he was met with the usual subtle glances. A few girls, seated near the windows, briefly looked up, their eyes flicking towards him before quickly returning to their notebooks. He registered each flicker, each averted gaze, filing them away. Any other boy might interpret it as budding affection or admiration. Kai, however, saw it for what it was: attraction towards the mystery, a fertile ground for future cultivation. His gaze lingered for a fraction longer on Aoi, a girl with striking blue hair who was known for her shy demeanor, and then on Rina, more outspoken and with a mischievous glint in her eye. He allowed a fleeting thought to cross his mind, a fleeting image of them under his influence, before calmly dismissing it. It was simply data, a prediction.
"Hey, Kai!" Akira called out from his desk.
"Hey, Akira," Kai responded, nodding as he made his way to his seat at the back of the classroom. From here, he could observe the entire ecosystem, the subtle shifts in alliances, the unspoken desires, the weak points. He wasn't just observing; he was cataloging potential assets and liabilities, and perhaps, future conquests.
As he settled into his seat, a soft voice from the row in front of him broke his reverie. "Kai, good morning." It was Yui, a cheerful girl with a bright smile, known for her easygoing nature.
He turned, offering a small, polite smile. "Morning, Yui. You seem to be in a good mood today."
"I am!" she chirped. "I finally finished that crazy English essay. What about you? You always look so calm, even on Monday mornings." She tilted her head slightly, her gaze lingering.
"It's just another day," Kai replied smoothly, allowing a hint of mild amusement to touch his eyes. "No need to complicate it. Besides, I enjoy the quiet before everything starts." He let his eyes briefly drop to her hands resting on her desk, then back up, a subtle, almost imperceptible scan that she wouldn't notice, but his mind registered the delicate curve of her fingers, the healthy sheen of her nails. He filed it away under 'potential physical vulnerability.'
Just then, Mika, another classmate with a sharp wit and even sharper eyes, leaned over from the desk next to Yui. "Or maybe you just have a secret stash of coffee beans, Kai? You're always so… zen." She smirked, a challenge in her tone.
Kai met her gaze, his expression unreadable. "Perhaps. Or perhaps, I just don't let small things bother me." He held her gaze for a beat longer than necessary, a subtle assertion of control, then let his eyes drift to her lips as she was about to retort, before moving away as if disinterested. A flicker of something – annoyance, curiosity – crossed Mika's face before she turned back to Yui. He recognized the type: a challenge, a potential source of entertainment.
Periods came and went, Kai absorbed in his own study. It was chemistry now. The teacher, Mr. Tanaka, a man with perpetually tired eyes, droned on about coordination compounds, his voice a low hum against the rhythmic scratching of pens.
Kai, however, was miles away, his eyes fixed not on the periodic table but on the intricate diagrams within his Unarmed Combat book. His fingers traced the lines of force, the pressure points, the optimal angles for defense and attack. He was learning how to break bodies, just as he was learning how to break wills.
Mr. Tanaka, accustomed to Kai's peculiar study habits, barely spared him a glance. There was a time when teachers had been furious, their lectures interrupted by Kai's blatant disregard for their authority. But then came the grades—consistently excellent. He wasn't a topper, but always managed to come in the top 10 without even studying, at least not in class. And when questions were posed, Kai's answers were almost always correct, sometimes even followed by well-reasoned arguments that challenged the teacher's explanations. Eventually, they had stopped caring, understanding that Kai, despite his unconventional methods, simply got it.
He was used to it, this effortless assimilation of complex concepts through mere reading. It was a gift, or perhaps a curse, that allowed him to manipulate knowledge itself, bending it to his will. Teachers not doing anything despite his unattentiveness during the classes was a feat of his manipulation.
The bell shrieked, a jarring interruption to the intricate dance of chemical bonds Kai was diligently ignoring. Mr. Koyama, visibly deflated, snapped his textbook shut, and the classroom exploded. A symphony of scraping chairs, slamming locker doors, and a cacophony of adolescent chatter filled the air. Kai, however, remained a still point in the swirling chaos, his eyes, like twin obsidian chips, scanning the room with a practiced subtlety that belied his age.
He rose slowly, his movements unhurried, almost languid, as he drifted towards the classroom door. He knew his path would intersect with theirs – a carefully choreographed inevitability. Just as he was about to cross the threshold, a burst of boisterous laughter erupted, and Cecilia, her usually composed demeanor momentarily forgotten, stumbled. Her bag snagged on a chair, and a paperback, its vibrant cover a splash of saccharine romance, skittered across the polished linoleum.
"Oh, no!" she gasped, her voice laced with genuine dismay as she bent to retrieve it.
But Kai was already there, a phantom of helpfulness. With a fluid grace that seemed almost practiced, he scooped up the fallen book. It was Crimson Embrace, a wildly popular romance novel, its cover adorned with a blushing, impossibly perfect couple. He straightened, holding it out to her, his calm, innocent eyes meeting hers. They conveyed a silent promise of harmlessness, a perfectly crafted illusion.
"You dropped this, Cecilia," he said, his voice a soft murmur. It was an act of kindness, Though he knew, deep down, it would change nothing.
Cecilia looked up, a faint blush blooming on her cheeks. "Oh, Kai! Thank you so much! I'm always such a klutz." Her friends, Saki and Rin, who had been hovering nearby, exchanged glances, a flicker of interest – and perhaps a touch of suspicion – in their eyes. They knew Kai's reputation. Was this a genuine act of kindness, or another calculated move?
"It's no problem," Kai replied, his smile deepening fractionally, a subtle shift that hinted at something more. "Just glad I could help." He paused, letting his gaze linger on her for a fraction of a second longer than strictly necessary, a silent message conveyed in the brief intensity. "That looks like a fun read."
Cecilia giggled, taking the book back. "It is! A bit cheesy, maybe, but I love a good love story."
"Everyone deserves a good story," Kai mused, his eyes twinkling with a shared, almost conspiratorial understanding. He didn't say anything more, letting the subtle implication hang in the air like an unspoken invitation. He then turned, moving smoothly towards the door, his steps silent as he began to fade from their immediate vicinity.
He hadn't even cleared the doorway when their voices, slightly muffled, reached his ears.
"Looks like Kai's got his sights set on you, Cece," Saki chirped, a hint of playful mischief in her tone.
"Yeah, probably interested in making me his next pawn," Cecilia scoffed, though a lingering blush on her cheeks betrayed a hint of internal conflict. "No one would believe how he truly is if they hadn't known his past."
"You can't expect anything genuine from that guy," Rin added, her voice laced with conviction.
Kai allowed a ghost of a smile to touch his lips. The quiet, helpful boy who saw her stumble and helped her up. The perfect image, meticulously constructed to override any lingering doubts. But his past, like a persistent shadow, still clung to him. The main rule of manipulation: never let them know you're manipulating them. But you made a great mistake by letting them know from the start.
Later, in the library, he was 'Browse' near the history section when he 'noticed' Miko, a popular and outspoken girl known for her sharp wit, frowning over a particularly dense historical text. He subtly positioned himself, then sighed just loud enough for her to hear, a sound of shared frustration.
"History can be brutal sometimes, can't it?" he commented, not directly to her, but seemingly to himself. When she glanced up, startled, he offered a small, understanding smile. "Especially the Meiji Restoration. All those factions are confusing."
Miko, initially wary, narrowed her eyes. "You're telling me! I can't keep track of who's who."
"It helps if you visualize it as a series of chess moves," Kai offered, leaning against a bookshelf, his posture relaxed and non-threatening. "Each faction making their play, trying to checkmate the others. Think of the Satsuma and Chōshū as the initial rooks, consolidating power..." He continued, weaving a simplified, yet insightful, narrative that made the complex events suddenly click for her. Miko, initially guarded, found herself listening intently, a flicker of genuine appreciation in her eyes.
As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Kai felt a familiar hollowness. Nothing truly changed. The echoes of suspicion still followed him.
He retrieved his bicycle from the racks, The path home was uneventful, a mundane backdrop to his internal machinations.
Suddenly, a piercing scream tore through the evening air, followed by the frantic bleating of a car horn. Ahead, the a popular girl from his school was crossing the road.
Kai, his internal calculations momentarily suspended, saw the scene unfold in a horrifying slow motion. The truck driver slammed on his brakes, tires shrieking, but it was too late. Almost all the guys would risk their life for a girl like that, but kai loved his life more than anything. Suddenly a thought surged through Kai. For a split second, he was able to 'see' the situation clearly, as if the time stopped. It doesn't matter if truck kun hit her or not, if he jumped for her without thinking about his own life... then...
One more thing was that there are several people in the road, many would see his selfless act.
Without a thought, he dropped his bike and sprinted. "GET BACK!" he bellowed, a primal roar ripping from his throat. He lunged, a desperate, last-ditch effort. He shoved the girl forward, sending her sprawling onto the safety of the pavement.
Then, the world erupted in a blinding flash of white. The deafening screech of tires became a sickening crunch of metal and bone. A searing pain ripped through his body, stealing his breath, his thoughts, everything. The world dissolved into a blinding white, then absolute black.
He died.
And then, he woke up. Not in a hospital bed, not surrounded by paramedics, but in his childhood bedroom. The posters on the wall were of cartoon characters he hadn't thought about in years. The morning sun streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. He felt... small. His limbs felt shorter, his voice, when he tested it, was higher pitched, a childish squeak.
He stumbled out of bed, his legs feeling strangely unfamiliar, and caught sight of his reflection in the full-length mirror.
A boy of ten years old stared back. Jade-black hair, calm eyes, and a face that was undeniably, disarmingly innocent.
A slow, chilling smile spread across Kai's face. The game had just been reset. And this time, he had a head start. The stage was set for a whole new level of games.