The nurse breaks the awkward silence with a chuckle and playfully nudges Muro.

  “Alright, no jokes this time. Tell me your real name.”

  Muro blinks, snapping out of his daze. “…Muro Kisaragi.”

  As the nurse notes down his information, Muro frowns slightly, thinking to himself. Why the hell did I say that? Albert Einstein? That was weird…

  Miyuki, standing nearby, catches a glimpse of his confused expression. Her eyes narrow slightly, curiosity flickering across her face, but she says nothing.

  The check-up concludes, and Muro leaves the room, shaking off the odd moment. He returns to class, sliding back into his seat as the day continues as if nothing had happened.

  But deep down, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was… off

  After school, Muro walks home with his friends. The conversation quickly turns into a playful debate about the girls in their class.

  “I swear, Yuki totally smiled at me today,” Daichi says, puffing his chest. “I think she’s into me.”

  Kazuo scoffs. “She smiled at everyone, idiot. That’s just how she is.”

  Takeshi chuckles. “Even if she was interested, you’d just freeze up like last time.”

  Daichi glares at them. “You guys have no faith in me!” He turns to Muro. “What do you think?”

  Muro shrugs. “I think you’re all getting way too excited over nothing.”

  Kazuo laughs. “Spoken like a man who doesn’t care about romance at all.”

  “Not that I have time for it,” Muro replies casually.

  As they reach his apartment, he waves them off and heads inside.

  His mother greets him from the kitchen. “Welcome home, Muro. How was school?”

  “Same as always,” he replies, dropping his bag.

  His sister, Mayu, peeks from the living room. “You should be more specific. Your ‘same as always’ could mean anything from acing a test to getting into a fight.”

  Muro smirks. “Well, no fights today. Disappointed?”

  Mayu crosses her arms. “Maybe a little.”

  Shaking his head, he heads to his room, changes into his work clothes, and grabs his bike. “I’m heading out,” he calls.

  His mother reminds him, “Be careful on the road!”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he waves before riding off.

  Later, Muro stops in front of a house to deliver an order. He rings the bell, waiting. The door creaks open slightly, revealing someone he recognizes—Rina, the quiet girl from his class who often steals glances at him.

  Their eyes meet. Her face turns bright red.

  Then, without a word, she slams the door shut.

  Muro blinks. “…Huh?”

  After a few moments of silence, he knocks again. “Uh, I’m here to deliver your food?”

  The door slowly opens again, just enough for her to take the bag. “S-Sorry about that,” she stammers, avoiding eye contact.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Muro says flatly, about to turn and leave.

  But then—

  “Wait!” she blurts out.

  Muro pauses, looking back.

  Rina takes a deep breath. “Do you… have time tomorrow after school? I was thinking… maybe we could check out the new shopping mall together?”

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  Muro tilts his head slightly before answering. “I don’t think I can. I really don’t have the time.”

  A brief silence follows before Rina forces a smile. “Oh… I see. No problem!”

  Muro nods, offering a polite “See you at school” before riding off.

  After finishing work, Muro heads to the gym. He steps onto the treadmill and starts running at a steady pace.

  His thoughts drift back to earlier that day—to that strange moment in the medical room.

  Why the hell did I say that?

  Without realizing it, his focus shifts entirely to his thoughts, and his finger never reaches to adjust the speed. The treadmill continues increasing—30 km/h, then 35 km/h.

  People in the gym start murmuring as they notice.

  “Wait… is he still going?”

  “Damn, that speed is insane!”

  When the treadmill hits 40 km/h, even the staff take notice, worried that he might fall.

  Yet, Muro keeps running, his body instinctively keeping up with the pace.

  Finally, he snaps out of it and realizes the speed. With a sharp exhale, he slows down and stops the machine. His heartbeat is steady.

  As he steps off, he hears a guy whisper, “What the hell is this guy made of…?”

  Muro wipes off some sweat and mutters, “No point overthinking it.”

  Once his training is done, he returns home. After a quick meal, he flops onto his bed, eyes staring at the ceiling.

  Today had been… weird.

  But he doesn’t dwell on it. Sleep takes over, and another day begins.

  Muro wakes up before his alarm, as if his body is programmed to do so. He heads straight to the kitchen, where his mother is already sitting. She raises an eyebrow in surprise.

  “Well… I didn’t have to wake you up today?” she says with a smile.

  Muro takes a bite of his breakfast and replies casually, “Looks like things are changing.”

  His mother chuckles. “That’s a real improvement, then.”

  After finishing his meal, Muro heads downstairs, where he meets his friends. The sky is overcast, with dark clouds signaling an approaching thunderstorm.

  “Looks like rain is coming,” Daichi comments while glancing up.

  “Doesn’t matter, as long as it doesn’t pour right now,” Kazuya replies with a yawn.

  They walk to school together, enter the classroom, and start their day. The morning classes pass smoothly until the bell rings for lunch. Muro and his friends head to the cafeteria, grab their meals, and sit together.

  “I’ve been thinking about finally signing up for the gym,” Kazuya says, trying to hide his excitement.

  Muro grins. “That’s great! I’ll help you with your workouts.”

  But Daichi interrupts with a smirk. “Oh, not this again! How many times have you signed up and quit after a week?”

  Kazuya frowns. “This time is different.”

  Muro pats his shoulder. “It’s not about how many times you quit. It’s about how many times you start again.”

  Elsewhere, near the school, three masked men—Ken, Ryo, and Haru—stand in a deserted alley, speaking in hushed tones.

  “The plan is simple. We wait for the right moment, grab the girl, and demand the ransom,” Ken says as he lights a cigarette.

  Ryo chuckles. “Easy money, as always.”

  Haru glances toward the school. “The daughter of a rich businessman… This is going to be profitable.”

  The sky grows darker, thunder rumbling in the distance. Muro and his friends return to their classrooms for the afternoon lessons. The teacher explains the subject, but an uneasy tension lingers. Everyone can sense the storm closing in.

  At the school’s entrance, the masked men make their move. In a swift, silent assault, they knock out the security guard and disable the electricity, plunging the entire school into darkness.

  In Muro’s classroom, the sudden blackout sends a wave of unease through the students. The only source of light is the faint glow from the windows. Some students whisper nervously, their anxiety growing when a flash of lightning illuminates the room, followed by a deafening clap of thunder.

  But amidst the tension… Muro sits still, unmoving. His gaze is distant, lost in thought.

  A loud crash shatters the silence. The classroom door is kicked open violently, slamming against the wall. The masked men storm in, shouting.

  “Nobody move!”

  Screams erupt as students scramble backward in fear, pressing themselves against the back wall as ordered.

  One of the men grabs Miyoko by the arm and drags her toward the door. “Target secured!” he announces mockingly, making the others laugh.

  But… Muro hasn’t moved.

  One of the intruders notices him, frowns, and marches toward him, pulling out a knife.

  “You! Move to the back!” he barks, pressing the blade closer.

  But Muro… doesn’t even blink.

  The masked man shouts again, his voice trembling with frustration.

  “I said, move back! Or else—”

  Before he can finish his sentence, Muro’s hand flashes forward like a blur, gripping the man’s wrist with an iron hold. A sharp gasp escapes the attacker’s lips as he feels an unbearable pressure crushing his hand. The knife clatters to the floor.

  “Let go of me, you damn brat!” the man yells, wincing in pain.

  His companions scoff. “Stop playing around and put the kid in his place!” one of them calls out.

  But then, a sickening crack echoes through the room. The man’s scream fills the air. Muro has shattered the bones in his wrist.

  Silence.

  A chilling fear spreads through the classroom as everyone watches in horror. Muro releases his grip, and the man stumbles backward, clutching his broken hand.

  Muro rises from his seat, his shoulders shaking—not with fear, but with laughter. A low chuckle that grows louder… and louder… until it turns into an uncontrollable, hysterical cackle.

  Then, with a single motion, he grabs his own shirt and rips it apart, revealing his well-defined muscles. His chest rises and falls with deep, ragged breaths before he suddenly screams, his voice filled with something primal.

  “You make my heart race for a moment… and then you show me these pitiful, terrified faces?!”

  Before his words even finish, he lunges—faster than anyone can process—grabbing the man whose wrist he had crushed.

  A gasp. A spray of crimson.

  Muro’s hand plunges into the man’s throat and rips out his windpipe. Blood splatters across the walls. The body collapses lifelessly, and for a brief moment, no one in the room dares to breathe.

  The two remaining masked men stagger back, faces pale with terror.

  “H-he’s a monster!” one of them stammers.

  The man holding Miyoko by the door releases her and bolts, desperate to escape.

  Muro turns his head slowly to the last remaining attacker, his fiery orange eyes glowing like the embers of a dying sun. His voice is eerily calm.

  “People like you… who lack the resolve to finish what they start… don’t deserve to live.”

  With a single step forward, Muro raises his hand, forming a rigid, knife-like strike with his fingers. His thumb folds into his palm as his other fingers remain straight.

  Then—he strikes.

  His hand slams into the man’s shoulder, right between the collarbone and neck. A sickening crunch follows as Muro shatters the man’s clavicle and two ribs in one devastating blow. The attacker falls to his knees, coughing up blood, barely clinging to life.

  From the hallway, the heavy creak of the school’s inner door echoes.

  The last masked man—the one who fled—had made it outside.

  But Muro doesn’t hesitate.

  Grabbing a chair, he hurls it at the window beside him, shattering the glass into pieces.

  The fleeing man hears the sound, turns his head slightly—just in time to see a shadowed figure, its form illuminated by the lightning outside. Two glowing eyes—burning, haunting—lock onto him.

  Then Muro jumps.

  A streak of darkness against the rain-filled sky.

  Before the man can react, Muro lands—his fist slamming straight into his chest with a force that caves in his ribcage. The man’s body crumples to the ground, unmoving.

  The distant wails of sirens cut through the storm.

  The police cars skid to a stop in front of the school, their red and blue lights flashing in the rain. Officers step out, drawing their weapons, their eyes darting toward the school entrance.

  Muro stands there, drenched in rain and blood.

  Slowly, he turns his head slightly, glancing back at the shattered classroom windows—where his classmates stand frozen, staring at him with a mixture of fear and disbelief.

  Then, he looks forward again.

  At the armed officers.

  Guns drawn.

  End of Chapter 2.