5:00 p.m.
Makoto had just returned home from school.
MAKOTO POV
"What a drab," I muttered, approaching the front steps of my house.
It wasn't a mansion, but the two-story structure was undeniably luxurious. The clean lines of its modern design, the sprawling yard, and the towering windows gleamed in the late afternoon sun. Anyone passing by would immediately know that this was the home of a family with taste—and wealth.
As I climbed the steps, the door suddenly slammed open, and a petite figure in a floral apron dashed out. Her pale yellow hair, pinned back in a messy bun, caught the sunlight, making her look deceptively youthful.
"Too-chan! Welcome!" Mother exclaimed, pulling me into one of her trademark bone-crushing embraces.
She was always this way: cheerful, clingy, and full of energy. A stark contrast to my little sister, Cherry, whose icy demeanor was like a permanent frost over our interactions.
Cherry and my mother were eerily similar, though. If not for the difference in their hair and eye color, you'd swear they were twins. Mother's light yellow hair and hazel eyes were bright and warm, while Cherry's deep auburn locks and piercing green eyes felt colder than winter.
As if on cue, Cherry's voice rang out behind Mother. "Welcome back, Narcissist. Dinner will soon be ready, so go change out of your uniform."
She stood leaning against the doorway, arms crossed in that typical teenage defiance. Her outfit, a classic sailor uniform, complete with a pleated skirt and a navy collar accented by a red ribbon, fit her so well it was like she'd walked out of an anime.
"Okay, okay," I replied with a shrug as I stepped inside. "But let me hit the training room for a bit first."
That earned me simultaneous scornful glares from both Cherry and Mother.
Wh-what now?
"Too-chan, you're always training! You don't even make time for your own mother!" Mother pouted dramatically, clutching her apron as though her heart were breaking.
"It's always either the training room, school, or study," Cherry added, her voice rising with irritation. "And then the loop just resumes! Do you even care about this family?"
Sigh. This was what I'd been dealing with ever since I came back from abroad last month.
"You guys..." I retorted, exasperated. "If you knew the level of evil and danger that exists in our world, lurking in the shadows, you'd praise my efforts to train and get stronger!"
Without waiting for their response, I stomped upstairs.
I needed a shower. The lingering smell of the school day clung to me like bad memories, and the tension from their complaints weighed on my shoulders.
They don't even know. They have no idea.
Ever since I left Japan six years ago, I've seen things—things that hide in the dark corners of the world. The kind of things only a strong individual can face.
But for now, I just needed a moment alone.
It's the job my father's been doing: fighting against those who exploit the world's darkness to further their own twisted plots.
My mother hates it. Cherry—she basically despises the man.
Honestly, I used to hate him, too. But when I decided to follow in his footsteps, I began to understand. His absence wasn't neglect; it was necessity.
My father is an executive at some shadowy agency. What they actually do, I have no idea.
Sorry, you thought I knew better, didn't you?
I only learned about the darkness of the world through his secretary, who also happens to be my primary trainer. She's the one who revealed to me that I'd eventually succeed my father in his position.
Knock, knock!
"Too-chan… Can I come in?" Mother's soft voice interrupted my thoughts.
What does she want now?
"No, you CANNOT come in," I snapped, trying to focus.
"Are you angry with me? Because of what I said?" Her voice wavered slightly.
Sigh. This teenage-looking 40-year-old.
"I'm not angry, okay?" I answered, attempting to sound calm.
"You are."
"I said I'm not!" My voice rose a little.
"See? You're mad at me!"
Oh my God. This mother of mine.
I flung the door open to find her standing there with tears forming in her eyes.
What a baby. Nothing just happened to cry about!
"See? I'm NOT angry," I said, stepping forward and pulling her into a warm hug.
Her arms tightened around me, as if she never wanted to let go. I sighed, leaning down to kiss her forehead.
"Now, GET THE HELL OUTTA MY HAIR!" I yelled, stepping back.
As she hurried off, she called out, "I knew it! You were angry!!"
Damn woman.
She's really annoying, but I get it. Even though it drives me crazy.
She doesn't want me to leave her again. Better yet, she doesn't want me to follow in my father's footsteps—footsteps steeped in danger, pain, and endless separation.
After ushering her out, I locked the door and headed toward the shower.
School was draining today.
Akira and Hana didn't help matters.
Am I seriously going to keep enduring their nonsense? If that's the case, my high school life is already as good as over.
Ti, ti, ti!
My phone beeped.
Curious, I grabbed it and checked the screen.
What I saw took me by surprise.
"If you're man enough, meet me at Piggy Kid's Park. I'll show you something."
A threat? No, a challenge.
Heh. This person obviously doesn't know who they're dealing with.
Ha-ha. Ha-ha-ha. Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!!
I laughed loudly, my confidence swelling.
"SHUT UP, MAKOTO!" Cherry shouted from downstairs, cutting through my glee.
*
The bathroom was an undeniable testament to the luxury that permeated our portable house. Even if it wasn't a sprawling mansion, it carried the essence of elegance in every corner.
The walls were tiled in pristine white marble streaked with gold veins, reflecting a soft, warm glow under the recessed ceiling lights. A large, frameless mirror spanned the length of the vanity, bordered with ambient lighting that illuminated my face perfectly—perfect for someone of my divine caliber to admire their own reflection.
The vanity itself was sleek, made of black granite with gold accents, and held a polished brass sink that gleamed like a trophy. To one side, neatly rolled white towels sat in a woven basket alongside an array of high-end toiletries—expensive colognes, soaps that smelled of cedar and citrus, and shampoos that boasted the ability to "redefine your hair's destiny."
The shower, positioned at the far end of the bathroom, was a glass enclosure equipped with rainfall and jet features. Its interior had dark slate tiles, contrasting with the rest of the room, and was spacious enough to fit three people—not that I'd ever share it. To its right stood a freestanding, deep soaking tub made of white porcelain, perched atop clawed feet that added an old-world charm.
Finally, the floor was heated, keeping the cool touch of the stone tiles at bay, and a small window above the tub allowed natural light to stream in during the day, offering a serene view of the wooded area beyond the house.
This mysterious fellow wants to know if I'm man enough, huh? I'll show them exactly what I'm made of, right after I shower… and work out in the training room. Wait—shouldn't it be the other way around? Work out, then shower?
Whatever, I'll just shower again afterward.
You just wait, stranger. I'll beat you back to last week!
Before stepping into the shower, I caught sight of myself in the massive mirror.
Oh, God. Who's this handsome guy? Is he a god or something?
High-god Makoto?
Sorry, it's just me. Sometimes I even scare myself with my own appeal.
Those deep blue eyes, sharp and piercing, seemed to hold galaxies within them. My equally deep blue hair, tousled yet stylish, fell over my forehead effortlessly—a trait that annoyed me since it was the same shade as Akira's obnoxious mane. My well-chiseled abs and defined chest gleamed under the soft lighting, further enhancing my godlike appearance.
My gaze traveled downward. Ah, and that fella is looking healthy today!
I stretched my arms, flexed my biceps, and twisted slightly to admire the lean muscles that rippled under my skin.
"Spectacular. Just awesome!" I muttered, thoroughly impressed by my own reflection.
"Gross. Who says that out loud about themselves?"
A familiar voice dragged me back to reality like a bucket of ice water.
I froze, towel slung around my neck. That voice had no business invading this sanctuary.
I quickly wrapped the towel around my waist. Even my own sister wasn't worthy of such divine revelations.
"Cherry." I turned to face her, deadpan. "Uhm, what are you doing here?"
She crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe as if she owned the place. "Dinner's ready. Mom says we're eating together."
And who gave this shrimp the right to order me around?
"I'm about to shower," I said, narrowing my eyes. "But I meant how did you get in here? I locked the door."
Cherry's lips curled into a smirk, and her voice dropped into a sinister tone. "Makoto, don't ever go thinking anything you do is beyond my range of access. Got that? It's only a matter of time before I find your stash of porn mags."
That… That was not something I ever wanted to hear from my little sister.
Porn mags? Please. I would never sully my godly eyes with such filth. But… if I ever did fall into temptation, I'd be sure to hide them where even the devil himself couldn't find them.
It became clear. I had an enemy under my own roof. Cherry was not to be underestimated.
"Right. Understood." I replied, slowly. "Now, can you get out?"
She just stood there, as if daring me to make her leave.
"Like, now?" I added firmly.
With an exaggerated eye roll, she finally pushed off the frame and left.
As the door clicked shut, I sighed in relief.
Cherry. My little sister and my newfound eternal nemesis.
As Cherry departed, I hopped into the shower, letting the hot water cascade down my divine vessel. Every inch of my glorious physique was cleansed with meticulous care and reverence, as though the water itself worshipped me. After all, the strange messenger never specified a time to meet. They could wait for a god like me.
Still, the thought lingered—how did they get my number? I really needed to tighten my security. This breach was unacceptable.
I luxuriated in the shower for an hour and a half, scrubbing away any trace of the mundane world that had clung to me. When I finally stepped out, steam billowed around me like a heavenly aura. I could almost hear a voice from heaven echoing through the bathroom walls:
"This dude is him! Worship him, alright? In him, I'm super, mega, duper pleased!"
A smile crept across my face. Whoever that voice belonged to, they clearly understood reality.
P.S. There was no such voice.