The night air on the rooftop was sharp, carrying with it the faint hum of the city below. Kenji rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen the tension that had been building in him all evening. The suit clung to him like a second skin, every seam and fiber a constant reminder that this wasn't just some crazy dream. This was real. He was really about to do it.
He crouched down, stretching his legs one at a time, then stood and shook out his arms. Each movement was methodical, his body going through the motions while his mind raced. He glanced toward the edge of the roof, where the city sprawled out before him like a living, breathing beast.
Cars zipped along the streets, their headlights snaking through the darkness, while the occasional burst of laughter or shout echoed from below. It all seemed so... normal. And here he was, standing above it all, about to leap into a completely different world.
Kenji straightened up, his breath clouding faintly in the chill air as he looked toward the next building. It wasn't close. The gap was wide enough to make his stomach twist, and the rooftop sat just a little higher than the one he stood on. His hands clenched into fists, the gloves creaking slightly as his grip tightened.
'What if I miss?' The thought crept in uninvited, gnawing at the back of his mind. He flexed his fingers, shaking out the tremble that had settled in. His feet shuffled backward, his body still moving on autopilot as he calculated the distance.
"Alright," he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible over the distant city noise. He took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before exhaling slowly. His heart hammered in his chest, each beat echoing like a drum in his ears. 'No more second-guessing. Just go!'
He took another step back, his knees bending slightly as he activated 15% of OFA. The powerful energy poured through him, pushing the tremor in his hands into something steadier. Kenji darted forward, his feet pounding against the rooftop as the edge rushed toward him. There was no time to think, no room for hesitation.
And then he was airborne.
For a moment, the city felt weightless beneath him. The world blurred, the hum of the streets muffled by the wind rushing past his ears. The rooftop ahead came into focus, and his arms stretched instinctively for balance.
His feet hit the surface first, the impact jarring but controlled, until his momentum carried him too far forward. His body tilted, and before he could adjust, he landed flat on his back with a dull thud.
Kenji lay there for a moment, staring up at the sky. The stars twinkled faintly, almost mocking in their indifference. His chest heaved, breathless not from exertion but from the sheer rush of what he'd just done.
And then he laughed.
It started low, just a quiet chuckle, but it quickly grew into something louder, uncontrollable. He laughed until his sides ached, his body trembling with adrenaline and exhilaration. The sound echoed across the rooftops, carried away by the wind.
He sat up, his hand brushing against the gritty rooftop as he steadied himself. A grin split his face, wide and uncontainable, as he glanced back at the gap he'd just cleared. "I actually did it," he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. "I freaking did it!"
Kenji pushed himself to his feet, his legs wobbling slightly as the last traces of nerves drained away. He turned toward the next rooftop, his grin still plastered across his face. The moon hung high above the city, casting its pale light over the buildings and streets below. The view was breathtaking, but Kenji's focus was already shifting.
The next jump was easier. His body moved with more confidence, the hesitation melting away with every leap. He sprinted across the rooftops, the wind tugging at his hood as his boots thudded softly against the concrete and gravel. Each landing sent a jolt through his legs, grounding him in the moment, reminding him that this was real. That he was really doing this.
He paused briefly on a rooftop, scanning the streets below. His breaths came quick and shallow, a mix of effort and excitement that he couldn't quite contain. The city stretched out before him, alive with movement and noise. Somewhere out there, people needed help. Somewhere out there, trouble was brewing.
Kenji adjusted the straps on his gloves, his fingers flexing as he turned his gaze toward the horizon. "Alright," he said softly, the words barely audible above the wind. A spark of determination flared in his chest as he took off again, his figure a blur of motion under the moonlight. "Let's do this."
---
Kenji prowled along the rooftops, his steps deliberately light. The cold night air bit at his exposed face, but he ignored it, his attention fixed on the streets below. It had been a slow start to his first patrol, and though his heart still raced with the thrill of the night.
He slowed as a trio of figures caught his eye. They were masked, their movements secretive and hurried. Kenji crouched low, his gloved fingers gripping the edge of the rooftop.
He watched as the three slipped into a convenience store, their body language tense and rehearsed. Something about the way they moved screamed trouble.
Kenji narrowed his eyes, his breathing steady as he peered closer. The glint of metal caught his eye, and his heart sank. Guns. His mind scrambled as he processed the sight. 'Pistols?' He winced inwardly. 'Why didn't I think of researching weapons? That's, like, superhero 101!'
Mentally kicking himself, Kenji edged forward for a better view. The sliding doors to the store parted, and harsh voices spilled out into the street. One of the robbers had the cashier at gunpoint, shouting commands, while the other two fanned out to intimidate the four bystanders huddled near the back wall. The civilians clutched their belongings, fear plastered across their faces.
Kenji's jaw tightened as adrenaline surged through him. His hands clenched into fists.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped off the rooftop, landing silently near the store's entrance. He silently thanked Daichi's grueling footwork drills for his soft landing. The moment his boots touched the ground, the sliding doors hissed open, exposing him to the harsh fluorescent light inside.
All eyes turned to him.
The closest robber, standing near the civilians, whipped his gun toward Kenji. "Don't move!" the man barked, his voice sharp but edged with fear.
Kenji's stomach churned, but he didn't let it show. Guns might not scare him as much as Honkai beasts, but a single bullet could still end his night—and maybe his life. He forced himself to stand tall, his hood casting a shadow over his face as he sized up the situation.
One of the robbers broke off and approached him cautiously, his gun leveled. "Hands up, buddy," he ordered, his voice trembling ever so slightly. Kenji could see the hesitation in his movements, the way his grip on the weapon shifted nervously.
Kenji's heart thudded in his chest, his mind racing. As the robber stepped closer, Kenji moved.
In a flash, he grabbed the man's wrist, twisting the gun free with a swift motion. The robber barely had time to react before Kenji crushed the weapon in his hand, the metal crumpling like paper. A stunned gasp escaped the man's lips, but it was quickly cut off as Kenji's foot connected with his stomach. The force sent him sprawling into a shelf, cans and boxes raining down around him as he crumpled to the floor.
The other two robbers sprang into action. "Shoot him!" one of them yelled, raising his weapon.
Danger Sense flared, a sharp jolt in Kenji's head that made him move before the gunman could pull the trigger. He darted toward the second robber, the world narrowing into a blur of movement and instinct. Kenji's fist connected with the man's side, a calculated liver shot that left him gasping and unconscious before he hit the ground. The gun clattered from his hands, and Kenji kicked it away, sending it skidding across the tile floor.
Before he could turn his attention to the last robber, a sharp voice stopped him cold.
"Don't move, or I'll shoot!" The third robber had the cashier in a headlock, the barrel of his gun pressed firmly against the man's temple. The cashier's eyes were wide with terror, his breaths coming in short, shallow bursts.
Kenji froze, his muscles tensing as his mind reeled. The room seemed to shrink, every sound muffled except the robber's ragged breathing. The man's hand was shaking, but the gun remained steady enough to make Kenji hesitate.
What do I do? Panic clawed at the edges of his thoughts. He was sure that he could disarm him fast, but it would risk him firing a sot at the mans head. I can't risk it. I can't—
The robber's voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. "Back off!" he screamed, his desperation palpable. "I'll do it! I swear!"
Kenji slowly raised his hands, his mind racing as he searched for an opening. His eyes darted to the gun, the man's trembling hands, the distance between them. An idea sparked, a risky one, but it was all he had.
His fingers curled slightly, the faint hum of OFA crackling through them. He aimed carefully, lining up his shot. "Okay," he said softly, his voice calm despite the storm raging inside him. "Don't hurt anyone."
The robber's grip on the cashier tightened. "Shut up! Don't—"
Kenji flicked his fingers.
The air split with a sharp whoosh as a gust of wind slammed into the robber's hand. The gun flew from his grip, skidding across the floor as he stumbled back, his balance lost. Kenji didn't waste a second. He surged forward, his knee driving into the man's stomach with enough force to leave him gasping. A quick sweep of his leg sent the robber crashing to the ground.
The room fell silent, the chaos evaporating as quickly as it had started. Kenji stepped on the discarded gun, crushing it beneath his heel for good measure. His chest heaved, adrenaline coursing through him as he surveyed the scene.
The civilians stared at him, their expressions a mix of fear, confusion, and awe. The cashier clutched the counter for support, his knuckles white as he tried to steady his breathing.
Kenji considered saying something, maybe a quick quip, something to break the tension. But the moment felt too heavy, the room too still. Instead, he gave them a small nod, his hood casting a shadow over his face, and turned toward the exit.
The cool night air greeted him as he stepped outside. He didn't stop moving, vaulting onto the nearest rooftop and disappearing into the shadows. His heart was still racing, his mind replaying every second of the encounter. It wasn't perfect. It wasn't clean. But everyone was safe.
---
Kenji crouched on the edge of a rooftop, his hood casting shadows over his face as he scanned the streets below. The adrenaline from the convenience store robbery still coursed through his veins, and he couldn't help but replay the fight in his head. The rush of action, the high stakes, the split-second decisions, it was nothing like his training. And yet, it felt natural, like this was what he was meant to do.
"First fight, and I go up against guns," he muttered to himself, shaking his head.
Danger sense suddenly activated again, sending him a warning. He turned and heard faint sound of footsteps. He looked down to see a young woman walking briskly down the sidewalk, clutching her bag close to her chest. Behind her, a man followed, his steps slow and deliberate. Kenji's danger sense was buzzing throughout his body, he knew this man was up to no good.
Kenji's grip tightened on the edge of the rooftop as he watched the man close the distance between them. The woman glanced over her shoulder, her pace quickening, but the man only sped up in response. That was enough for Kenji.
Without hesitation, he leapt down, landing softly in the alleyway ahead of them. The woman froze, her eyes wide with surprise and fear as Kenji stepped into the light. His hood cast a shadow over his face, and the faint hum of his power flickered through his fingers as he turned his gaze to the man.
The stalker stopped in his tracks, his expression shifting from confusion to unease. "Hey, man, what's your problem?" he barked, trying to sound tough but faltering under Kenji's silent stare.
Kenji didn't respond. Instead, he took a step forward, his presence alone enough to make the man backpedal. The woman seized the moment, hurrying down the street and disappearing around the corner.
The stalker looked between Kenji and the retreating figure, his bravado crumbling. "Alright, alright! I'm going!" he muttered, turning and stumbling away into the night.
Kenji let out a quiet breath, the tension in his shoulders easing. He watched until the man was out of sight before leaping back onto the rooftops. "Looks like that's done with" he said to himself. "Plenty more to go."
...
Later that night, Kenji's danger sense, put his attention near a small park. A woman stood near a bench, her attention fixed on her child, who was sitting and tying their shoe. She didn't notice the man lurking nearby until it was too late. He darted forward, snatching her purse from where it hung on the bench.
"Hey!" the woman shouted, spinning around just in time to see the thief sprinting away.
'And that's my queue' Kenji was already moving.
The thief didn't get far. Kenji landed in front of him, his sudden appearance causing the man to skid to a stop. "What the fu-!" Before the thief could react, Kenji lunged forward, his hand striking the side of the man's neck with practiced precision. The thief crumpled to the ground, unconscious before he hit the pavement.
Inwardly thanking Mei who surprisingly taught him how to do that. Remembering how she used it against one very disruptive student, with Kiana cheering from the back. 'Mei is scary'
Kenji bent down, picking up the discarded purse. He glanced back toward the woman and her child, who were standing frozen in shock. The mother instinctively stepped in front of her child, shielding them as Kenji approached. The child took a peek from behind their mothers leg, looking at him with an expression he can't fully make out.
He stopped a few feet away, placing the purse on the ground in front of him. He pointed toward the unconscious thief and spoke, his voice low and steady. "Call the police. Stay safe."
Without waiting for a response, he turned and jumped back onto the rooftops, disappearing into the shadows.
From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the child's face. They weren't scared. Their eyes were wide with wonder, a small, awestruck smile on their lips. "Would you look at that.." he muttered. Kenji felt a flicker of warmth in his chest, seeing a child make that face because of him felt.. nice.
...
The rest of the night passed in a blur of small interventions. A drunken fight defused here, a broken-down car pushed off a busy road there, he still remembers the mans face when he pushed his car to the side of the road easily and then giving a thumbs up before running off. The man looked absolutely baffled.
Each encounter felt like another piece of the city falling into place, he felt like he was finally getting into rhythm.
"Not bad for my first night out," he muttered to himself as he perched on the edge of a tall building, removing his mask and gulping down a bottle of water. The first light of dawn was starting to creep over the skyline, painting the city in hues of pink and orange.
Kenji flexed his fingers, the faint hum of OFA still buzzing under his skin. His body ached a little, his legs were tired, and his mind was a jumble of thoughts and memories from the night. But despite the exhaustion, he couldn't help but smile.
"Time to start the day" he said softly, pulling his hood tighter as he prepared for the journey back home.
---
The camera feed switched to the newsroom, a bright and polished studio framed by a skyline of Nagazora. Behind the desk sat a sharp-dressed news anchor, his expression a mixture of curiosity and professionalism. A large screen beside him displayed grainy footage of a hooded figure leaping across rooftops, the caption beneath reading: Mysterious Vigilante or Menace?
"Good evening, Nagazora," the anchor began, his smooth voice filling living rooms across the city. "It has been three weeks since a mysterious figure first appeared in the streets of our beloved city, intervening in crimes and disappearing into the night. The enigmatic individual, who has yet to identify themselves, has become a hot topic of debate among citizens and law enforcement alike."
The screen beside him transitioned to footage taken by a shaky phone camera. The video showed a shadowy figure standing atop a streetlamp, overlooking a dark alley where a group of masked individuals had been apprehended and tied to a railing. The vigilante, their face obscured by a hood and mask, disappeared in a single leap as sirens blared in the background.
The anchor turned back to the camera. "Dubbed 'The Night Runner' by social media, this vigilante has reportedly thwarted numerous crimes, ranging from petty theft to armed robbery. However, their methods and motives remain a mystery."
The feed switched again, this time to a grainy surveillance video. In it, the same hooded figure could be seen rushing into a convenience store as masked robbers held the cashier at gunpoint. The footage showed the vigilante subduing the assailants with precise, almost superhuman movements, disarming them and incapacitating them within seconds. They paused briefly, gesturing for the cashier to call the police, before vanishing as quickly as they appeared.
"For some, the Night Runner is a hero," the anchor continued. "A symbol of hope in a city struggling with rising crime. Others, however, are not so sure."
The screen cut to an interview clip featuring a stern-faced man in a police uniform, standing in front of a precinct. "While I appreciate anyone who wants to help make our city safer," he said, his tone measured but firm, "vigilantism is not the answer. It puts both the individual and the public at risk. Law enforcement should be left to trained professionals, not masked individuals operating outside the law."
The anchor's voiceover resumed as the screen displayed social media posts, each filled with speculation and debate. One read, "The Night Runner saved my sister from being mugged. They're a hero!" Another countered, "This so-called hero is a lawsuit waiting to happen. What if they hurt someone by accident?"
The camera returned to the anchor, his expression neutral. "To provide further insight, we turn to field correspondent Reina Okabe, who spoke with a citizen who claims to have been rescued by the Night Runner."
The scene shifted to a park bench where a middle-aged woman sat, her hands clasped tightly around a steaming cup of coffee. Her eyes darted nervously as she recounted her experience to the young reporter holding a microphone.
"It was late," the woman began, her voice shaky. "I was walking home after work, and there was this man… he kept following me. I tried to ignore him, but he kept getting closer." Her voice faltered, and she looked down, taking a moment to steady herself.
Reina nodded encouragingly. "Take your time."
The woman exhaled deeply, then continued. "I don't know where he came from—the Night Runner, I mean. One second, it was just me and that man, and the next… there he was. He didn't say a word, just stood there, between me and the guy."
"What happened next?" Reina prompted gently.
The woman's grip tightened on her cup. "The man ran. The Night Runner didn't chase him or anything—just made sure I was okay before leaving. I didn't even get a chance to thank him. Or more like, I ran away first."
The camera zoomed in on the woman's face as she added, her voice breaking slightly, "I don't know who he is, but he saved me. I'll never forget that."
Back in the newsroom, the anchor addressed the viewers. "While stories like these paint the Night Runner as a guardian of the night, not all encounters have been so straightforward."
The screen transitioned to footage from a jewelry store's security camera. The clip showed the vigilante intercepting a robbery, expertly disarming the thieves and subduing them. However, one of the bystanders, in the chaos, stumbled and twisted their ankle while fleeing.
The anchor continued, "Critics argue that such incidents, while rare, highlight the risks of untrained individuals intervening in dangerous situations."
The screen then transitioned to a street interview with a middle-aged man wearing a coat, standing outside a bustling shopping district. "Honestly," he said, his tone measured, "I don't know why people are making such a fuss about him. Valkyries do a great job with the big stuff, the Honkai, the disasters, but you don't see them helping when someone's getting mugged in an alley or when there's a robbery at a corner store. That's where the Night Runner comes in. They're watching out for the little guy, and I think that's something we've needed for a long time."
The reporter pressed further, "So, you'd say their actions make the city feel safer?"
"Absolutely," the man replied, nodding firmly. "Knowing there's someone out there, even just one person, who's willing to step up, it makes a difference. My daughter walks home from her part-time job every night. Since the Night Runner showed up, she says she feels safer. That's all that matters to me."
The screen shifted again, this time showing a clip of a young man holding his phone up in excitement. Behind him, blurred but unmistakable, was the vigilante perched on a lamppost before leaping into the darkness.
"I saw them last night!" the man exclaimed, his voice buzzing with enthusiasm. "They're the real deal! It's like something out of a comic book!"
The footage cut to a montage of tweets and posts: "Night Runner for Mayor!" "Finally, someone doing something about the crime rate!" "Who is the Night Runner? We need answers!"
Reina Okabe returned to the screen, now standing in front of a graffiti mural depicting a hooded figure. The mural was surrounded by messages of support: "Thank you!" "Stay safe out there!" "A hero for the people!"
"Public opinion on the Night Runner remains divided," Reina said, gesturing to the mural behind her. "While some see them as a symbol of hope, others question the legality and safety of their actions. One thing is certain: the Night Runner has become an undeniable part of Nagazora's urban legend."
Back in the studio, the anchor addressed the camera directly. "Whether hero or hazard, the Night Runner's presence raises important questions about safety, justice, and the role of individuals in combating crime. For now, all we can do is watch and wait to see what this enigmatic figure does next."
The camera panned out, the city skyline glowing behind the anchor as he delivered his closing line. "This is Nagazora News Network, bringing you the stories that shape our city. Stay safe out there."
---
Kenji sat at the corner of a small, bustling café, a tray with a half-eaten sandwich and a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. He leaned back against the seat, his delivery bag tucked neatly against the wall beside him. The faint hum of conversation and clinking dishes filled the air, a relaxing counterpoint to his usual high-energy routine.
His eyes were glued to the mounted television in the café, which was playing the news segment he'd caught earlier in snippets during a delivery. The words "The Night Runner" flashed across the screen in bold letters, accompanied by grainy surveillance footage of a hooded figure leaping between rooftops and disarming a robber in a convenience store.
Kenji's lips quirked into a faint smile as he took another bite of his sandwich, chewing slowly while the anchor recapped the vigilante's recent escapades.
"The Night Runner," he mumbled to himself between bites, the name rolling off his tongue with a mix of amusement and approval. "Not bad."
The segment shifted to a clip of an older man being interviewed. He spoke about how the Night Runner filled a gap in the city's safety, handling crimes that often went unnoticed by Valkyries. The camera cut to a young mother who recounted how the vigilante had returned her stolen purse, protecting her and her child from a petty thief.
Kenji's smile deepened as he washed down the sandwich with a sip of coffee. The satisfaction wasn't just from the praise, it was from knowing his efforts were making a difference, even if people didn't know it was him behind the mask.
As the broadcast continued, he caught sight of himself in the faint reflection of the café's window. He didn't look like much, a delivery guy on a lunch break, wearing his signature cap and jacket, blending in with everyone else.
The ordinary life of Kenji Aoyama felt worlds away from the masked figure soaring through the city's shadows at night. Yet, in his heart, the two halves of his life felt inseparably connected.
The news segment finally ended, cutting back to a commercial for a new noodle shop opening downtown. Kenji chuckled softly to himself, shaking his head. "Guess I've got a name now."
He popped the last bit of his sandwich into his mouth, dusted his hands off, and pulled out his wallet to settle the bill. After paying at the counter, he grabbed his bag and slung it over one shoulder, stepping out of the cozy café and into the bustling streets of Nagazora.
The late afternoon sunlight cast long shadows across the pavement as Kenji hopped onto his scooter. He adjusted his cap and revved the engine, the familiar hum blending into the symphony of city noise. His mind wandered as he navigated the crowded streets, weaving between cars and pedestrians with ease.
The thought of his evening training at the dojo brought a small grin to his face. His sessions with Mei were still a challenge even though he is stronger now, but they were also something he genuinely looked forward to. His thoughts drifted briefly to Kiana, the tornado of energy who seemed to show up at the dojo at random times.
Though he had to admit, he enjoyed both her and Mei's presence. He can confidently say that he is friends with them now, having hung out with them multiple times.
Suddenly a buzz came from his pocket, he slowed down his scooter and stopped on the side of the road and saw that it was a message from Mei, saying [Don't forget to show up!].
Kenji just smiled and sent her a reply [I won't be late Mei sensei!] followed by an angry sticker from Mei, he chuckled and thought to himself "I wonder if Kiana's going to be there again,"