The three days at grandmother's passed like a dream.
Kenji woke up on the fourth morning in the guest room of the Kensington house, the grey London light filtering through the lace curtains. He stayed still for a moment, listening to the sounds of the house waking up. Footsteps in the hallway. Daichi's laughter somewhere. The smell of tea rising from the kitchen.
'This is our last day,' he thought. 'Tonight, we go back to the hotel. Tomorrow, we leave for Japan.'
The day before, Eleanor had told them the news. The flight was scheduled for the day after next. But before that, there was this meeting. The one Daichi had been waiting for with feverish impatience.
"The Queen," Daichi had repeated all evening. "We're going to see the Queen."
Kenji got up and dressed quietly. White shirt, dark pants, light jacket. Nothing too formal, nothing too casual. He glanced in the mirror.
'That'll do.'
His bedroom door flew open.
Daichi burst in, already dressed — too dressed. He was wearing his best suit, the one he wore for weddings and funerals. His hair was slicked back with an amount of gel bordering on ridiculous.
"KENJI! ARE YOU READY? WE'RE MEETING THE QUEEN TODAY!"
Kenji blinked. "It's 8 o'clock."
"I KNOW! I'VE ALREADY SHOWERED, I GOT DRESSED, I PREPARED MY QUESTIONS —"
"Your questions?"
Daichi brandished a sheet of paper covered in feverish handwriting. "I made a list. Just in case."
Kenji rubbed his eyes. "You have a list of questions for the Queen."
"YES!"
"Do you plan to ask them?"
"MAYBE! IF SHE'S NICE!"
Kenji sighed, but a discreet smile hid at the corner of his lips. 'That's Daichi.'
"You don't have to wear your suit," he said.
"YES I DO. IT'S THE QUEEN."
"She'll think you're going to a funeral."
Daichi looked at him, horrified. "You think?"
"Maybe take off the jacket."
Daichi hesitated, then reluctantly removed the jacket. He remained in his white shirt and black pants, still looking just as solemn.
"Better?"
"A little."
Daichi looked at himself in the mirror, made a face, then nodded. "It'll do."
Breakfast in Eleanor's dining room was a quiet affair.
Mrs. Higgins, the housekeeper, had prepared toast, eggs, tea, and coffee. Daichi ate quickly, too quickly, constantly watching the clock. Mom picked at her food without appetite, nervous. Dad read and re-read his notes on royal protocol, though he already knew them by heart.
Kenji, meanwhile, ate slowly, observing his family. He saw their nervousness, their excitement, their fear of doing something wrong. He understood.
'It's the Queen,' he thought. 'It's normal to be nervous.'
Eleanor, seated at the end of the table, sipped her tea with perfect calm. She had that tranquil air of someone who had seen dozens of kings and queens pass through her life.
"You don't have to be nervous," she said gently. "The Queen is a friend. A real one. She's eager to meet you."
Daichi looked up from his plate. "A friend? You're friends with the Queen?"
"For forty years. We started around the same time — she as Queen, me as an MP. We've been through crises together, joys together." Eleanor smiled. "She's a remarkable woman. And she loves children."
Daichi seemed reassured. Kenji, meanwhile, wondered what it was like to have a queen for a friend.
A black car came to pick them up at exactly 9:30 a.m.
Buckingham Palace was even more impressive up close. The gilded gates, the immense facade, the guards in red tunics and fur hats, motionless as statues. Daichi had his nose pressed to the window.
"It's HUGE," he murmured. "It's REALLY huge."
The car stopped at a side entrance, less formal than the main porch. An official in a suit was waiting for them, a man in his fifties with a polite smile.
"Lady Ashworth," he said, bowing slightly. "Her Majesty is expecting you."
They followed him through hallways that seemed never-ending. Paintings on the walls, tapestries, crystal chandeliers. Daichi looked everywhere at once, his mouth slightly open. Kenji observed, recorded.
'It's old,' he thought. 'Very old. Centuries of history in these walls.'
The official stopped in front of a double door, adorned with gilt. "Her Majesty will receive you in the Blue Drawing Room. Please wait a moment."
He opened the door and invited them in.
The drawing room was spacious, elegant, furnished with exquisite taste. Royal blue armchairs, mahogany low tables, vases of fresh flowers. On the walls, portraits of ancient sovereigns.
Daichi froze on the threshold. "It's... it's..."
"Impressive," Kenji completed.
"YES."
They sat on the indicated armchairs. Mom took Dad's hand. Daichi clutched his sheet of questions so tightly it was starting to crumple. Kenji, meanwhile, looked at the door.
'She's going to enter,' he thought. 'The Queen.'
The door opened.
She was smaller than Kenji had imagined.
In photos, on screens, she seemed taller, more imposing. In real life, she was... normal. A woman of a certain age, with simple grey hair, dressed in a pale blue dress and a pearl necklace.
But when she smiled, everything changed.
"Eleanor!" she said, approaching with arms slightly open. "It's been a long time!"
Eleanor stood and embraced her — a simple, natural gesture that would have been unthinkable with any other head of state. "Victoria. Good to see you. You look magnificent, as always."
The Queen laughed. "You, such a flatterer." She turned to the Tanaka family. "And here is your famous daughter. The one who went to live in Japan."
Akari stood up, a little intimidated. "Your Majesty."
"Call me Victoria, here. We're among friends." The Queen shook her hand warmly. "Your mother talks about nothing but you. For years. I was beginning to think you didn't exist."
Akari smiled, relaxing. "I do exist, Your Majesty."
"Victoria."
"Victoria."
Then it was Hiroshi's turn. The Queen looked at him with interest. "The architect. Eleanor has shown me photos of your buildings. They're magnificent."
Dad inclined his head. "Thank you, Victoria."
Then she looked at the boys.
Her eyes lingered first on Daichi. She examined him from head to toe, and Kenji saw her smile widen. "You must be Daichi. The one who wants to be a hero. Eleanor has shown me videos of you. Tons of them."
Daichi opened his mouth. No sound came out.
The Queen waited, patient.
Daichi tried again. "I... yes... Victoria..."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Daichi." The Queen extended her hand. Daichi shook it, his fingers trembling slightly.
Then she looked at Kenji.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if she were searching for something. "And you, you're Kenji. The silent thinker. Eleanor told me about your notebooks."
Kenji held her gaze. "Yes."
"She says you observe everything. That you note everything." The Queen smiled. "So, what are you observing right now?"
Kenji thought for a second. "That you're wearing a sapphire brooch, that your necklace matches it, and that you've looked at the door three times since you entered. As if you're expecting someone."
Silence filled the room.
Then the Queen burst out laughing — a frank, surprising laugh that immediately relaxed the atmosphere. "He's wonderful! Eleanor, your grandson is wonderful!"
Eleanor smiled, visibly proud. "He's like that. He sees everything."
"It's a precious gift." The Queen looked at Kenji with renewed interest. "Guard it carefully."
Kenji nodded, a little embarrassed by all this attention. His cheeks flushed slightly.
At that moment, the door opened again.
A woman entered, and the room seemed to light up.
Tall, athletic, short blonde hair styled with a simplicity that detracted nothing from her presence. She wore an elegant suit in the colors of the Union Jack, but stylized, modern — deep blue with red and white accents. Her blue eyes quickly scanned the assembly, and when they landed on Kenji, he felt something.
An energy. Not the one he usually perceived — he wasn't using it right now. But something else. A presence.
"Sorry I'm late, Aunt Victoria," she said. Her voice was clear, confident, with a slight northern English accent. "A minor alert in the east of the city. Nothing serious."
The Queen smiled. "Carol, let me introduce the Tanaka family."
Carol Danvers — Solarflare, the British number one — approached. She shook Akari's hand, then Hiroshi's, with a firm but not crushing grip.
Then she looked at Daichi. "You're the noisy brother, aren't you? The one who can create shockwaves with his whole body."
Daichi, who had regained the power of speech, nodded vigorously. "Yes! I'm Daichi! Sonic Impact! I can create shockwaves through the sounds my body makes — not just my palms, my whole body!"
"I know. I've seen videos. Eleanor showed me." Carol smiled. "You have power. With training, you'll be able to do impressive things."
Daichi blushed to the tips of his ears.
Then Carol looked at Kenji.
Her gaze changed. Became more intense, more focused. "And you, Kenji Tanaka. The absorber."
Kenji held her gaze. "Yes."
"Bishop told me about you."
Kenji felt a small wave of surprise. "You know Bishop?"
"We fought together, years ago. Against an international threat. An ugly business, in Eastern Europe." Carol had a nostalgic smile. "He saved my life, once. Literally." She approached. "He told me you had enormous potential. That he'd never seen someone so young with such mastery of energy."
Kenji didn't know what to answer. He just nodded, cheeks slightly pink.
Carol smiled — a real smile, warm. "You're modest. That's good."
They all sat around a low table where tea and small cakes were served. Daichi, initially paralyzed by the Queen's presence, gradually relaxed. He asked his questions — not all, but a few — and the Queen answered with a patience that surprised Kenji.
"What's your favorite food?" Daichi asked.
"Chocolate," the Queen answered without hesitation. "In all its forms. Eleanor and I have gotten through entire diplomatic crises with chocolate."
Eleanor laughed. "It's true. The Falklands crisis was negotiated over a box of Swiss chocolates."
Daichi found that fascinating. "And your hobby?"
"My dogs. And puzzles. Eleanor gives me one every birthday."
"Puzzles?"
"Complicated puzzles. The ones that take weeks. Eleanor and I do them together, sometimes."
Kenji, meanwhile, observed Carol — Solarflare. She was sitting across from him, and occasionally their eyes met.
"Do you have questions for me?" she asked.
Kenji thought. "How does your Alter work, exactly?"
Carol smiled. "Direct question. I like that." She raised her hand, and a golden glow emanated from it — not blinding, but warm, soothing. "I absorb light energy. From the sun, stars, any source. I store it, convert it, release it. As beams, shields, physical reinforcement. They call me Solarflare because of it."
Kenji watched, fascinated. 'Like me. But different.'
"You, you can absorb everything, right?" asked Carol.
"I think so. Not everything yet. I'm working on it."
"That's rare. Very rare." Carol dispersed the light. "Bishop says you could become one of the greatest."
Kenji tensed slightly. "I don't know. I just want to understand."
"That's the best approach." Carol leaned forward. "Power without understanding is dangerous. For you and for others."
Kenji nodded. That was exactly what Bishop said.
The Queen, who had been following the conversation, spoke up. "You know, Kenji, I've met many heroes in my life. The greatest, the most powerful, the most famous. But the ones who impressed me most were those who thought before they acted."
Kenji looked at her.
"Power can be acquired. Wisdom is built." She smiled at him. "You seem to be on the right path."
Kenji felt warmth in his chest. Not his reactor. Something else. 'Why does everyone tell me that?'
After tea, Carol offered a demonstration.
In an inner courtyard of the palace, sheltered from view, she activated her Alter fully. Light burst from her — not aggressive, but powerful. It enveloped her body like a second skin, then concentrated in her hands.
"Watch," she said.
She projected a beam of light towards the sky — a pure, golden beam that shot straight up and disappeared into the clouds. Then she created a shield, a translucent sphere that completely surrounded her. Then a blade, a solid sword of light that she twirled with ease.
Kenji watched, eyes wide. 'It's beautiful. It's like living energy.'
"Want to try?" asked Carol, dispersing the blade.
Kenji hesitated for a second. Then he nodded. "Can I?"
"Of course." Carol stepped aside. "Show me what you can do."
Kenji took a breath. He hadn't used his Alter for days — Bishop had advised him to enjoy the trip without focusing on training. But the urge was too strong.
He closed his eyes, seeking that familiar sensation. His internal reactor, empty for now. He extended his hand, palm up, and tried to absorb the ambient light.
Nothing.
He concentrated harder. He felt something — a tiny vibration, a barely perceptible warmth — but nothing came. No absorption, no conversion. Nothing.
He opened his eyes, frustrated. "I can't do it."
Carol approached, an understanding smile on her lips. "That's normal. Light is different from other forms of energy. It's subtler, faster. You have to learn to feel it before you can catch it."
Kenji looked at her. "How do you do it?"
"In the beginning, I started by concentrating on the warmth of the sun on my skin. Not to absorb it, just to feel it. To understand its texture, its speed, its nature." She placed a hand on his shoulder. "You can't absorb what you don't truly perceive."
Kenji thought. 'The texture of light.' He had never thought of it that way.
"Try again," said Carol. "But this time, don't try to absorb. Just try to feel. Like you would with wind on your face."
Kenji closed his eyes. He concentrated on the sensation of sunlight on his skin — even through the clouds, there was a diffuse warmth. He observed it, without trying to take it. He let it brush against him, caress his skin, penetrate gently.
Then, very slowly, he tried to draw in a tiny part of it.
A small spark of light danced at his fingertips — no bigger than a coin, flickering like a fragile flame. Then it went out.
Kenji opened his eyes, slightly out of breath.
Carol was smiling, impressed. "Not bad for a first time. Really not bad."
"It was tiny," said Kenji, disappointed.
"It was a beginning. The first time I tried, I couldn't even do that." She crouched down to his level. "Light is capricious. It demands patience, gentleness. You can't force it. You have to invite it."
Kenji nodded, recording every word.
"Keep training," said Carol, standing up. "And when you come back, we'll work on it."
Kenji felt a small wave of excitement. "I'll come back."
"I'm sure of it."
The visit lasted two hours.
They talked about everything — England, Japan, Alters, life. Daichi recounted his exploits at Camp Nou, at Stonehenge, at Oxford. The Queen listened with amusement, occasionally asking a question.
Carol talked with Kenji about Bishop, about energy, about challenges to come. She gave him advice, tips, things to think about.
"Never forget," she said at the end. "Your power isn't an end in itself. It's a tool. What matters is what you do with it."
Kenji nodded. 'I'll remember that.'
At the end, they took their leave. The Queen shook everyone's hand, wishing them a safe return. In front of Kenji, she paused a second longer.
"You are a remarkable boy, Kenji. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."
Kenji looked at her. "Thank you, Victoria."
She smiled, and for the first time, Kenji saw something truly human behind the title. A woman, simply. A friend of his grandmother.
Carol accompanied them to the exit. At the door, she placed a hand on Kenji's shoulder.
"We'll meet again, Kenji Tanaka. I'm sure of it."
Kenji nodded. "I hope so."
She smiled at him, then turned to Daichi. "And you, keep making noise. The world needs people like you."
Daichi beamed.
In the car on the way back, Daichi talked non-stop.
"THE QUEEN! We saw THE QUEEN! And she's NICE! And she likes puzzles! And Solarflare! She is SO COOL! She told me she'd give me contacts! CONTACTS FOR TRAINING!"
Mom smiled, eyes a little moist. Dad drove in silence, but he was smiling too.
Kenji, meanwhile, looked out the window. London scrolled by, grey and beautiful.
'Solarflare,' he thought. 'Carol Danvers. She knows Bishop. She offered to train me. Someday.'
He took out his notebook and quickly wrote:
Day 13 — London
We met the Queen today. She's impressive, but not distant. She laughed when I said she was looking at the door. She told me wisdom is built. She's friends with grandmother — real friends, not just official relations.
We met Carol Danvers, Solarflare, the British number one. She calls the Queen "Aunt Victoria." They're truly close.
Solarflare has the same kind of power as me, but focused on light. She offered that I come back someday to train with her. I'd really like that.
She knows Bishop. They fought together against an international threat. She says he saved my life, once. I don't know what she's talking about, but I'll ask him.
Daichi asked all his questions. The Queen answered. She likes chocolate and puzzles. She and grandmother do them together.
I'm tired. But happy. Really happy.
He closed the notebook and looked out the window.
'Tonight, we're sleeping at grandmother's again. Tomorrow, we go home.'
The news came the next morning.
Dad received a call from the airline. The flight scheduled for the next day was canceled for maintenance. They offered a flight the same day, or another three days later.
"What do we do?" asked Mom.
Daichi looked at Kenji. Kenji looked at Daichi.
"We're going home," they said in unison.
Mom smiled. "Then we're going home."
The farewell to Eleanor was more emotional than Kenji had imagined.
They gathered in front of her house, under a grey sky threatening rain. Eleanor held Akari tightly for a long time, murmuring words no one heard. Then Hiroshi, with a firm handshake and a look that said everything.
Then Daichi.
Eleanor knelt before him, despite her age. "Daichi. My noisy grandson. Keep making noise. Keep wanting to be a hero. And send me videos."
Daichi, eyes moist, nodded. "I'll send you everything. All my progress."
"I'll wait."
When it was Kenji's turn, Eleanor knelt too, to be at his height.
"Kenji."
"Grandmother."
They looked at each other for a long moment. Then Eleanor took something from her pocket — a small old book, with a worn leather cover.
"This is for you. A notebook. It belonged to a nineteenth-century writer. It's blank. For you to write your own stories."
Kenji took the notebook carefully. He opened it. The pages were white, pristine.
"Thank you," he murmured. His voice was choked. His cheeks were red.
"I want you to send me copies, from time to time," said Eleanor. "Of what you write. Not everything. Just what you want to share."
Kenji nodded. "I will."
Eleanor hugged him close. "Take care of yourself, Kenji. And don't forget — books are windows. But you are a window too. To a world I'll never know."
Kenji didn't know what to answer. So he hugged her tighter.
The plane took off at 4:30 p.m.
Kenji watched London recede through the window. The city shrank, became a grey smudge, then disappeared beneath the clouds.
Daichi, next to him, was silent for once. He was also looking out the window, eyes red.
"You okay?" asked Kenji.
Daichi nodded. "I'm okay. It's just that... I already miss her."
Kenji understood.
He took out the notebook Eleanor had given him. He opened it to the first page. He took his pen.
He wrote:
Day 15 — En route to Japan
We're leaving London. Leaving grandmother. Leaving the Queen, Solarflare, this grey and beautiful island.
Forty-five days of travel. Italy, Spain, England. So many things seen. So many things learned.
I met my grandmother. She has books everywhere, notebooks like mine, memories full in her eyes. She loved us from afar, and now she loves us up close.
I met the Queen. She's friends with grandmother. She told me wisdom is built.
I met Solarflare. She offered to train with her, someday.
I don't know what the future holds for me. But I know these forty-five days have changed me. A little. Just enough.
Now, home. Yuki, Toru, Bishop, grandfather. Routine, training, notebooks.
But this journey will remain. In my notebooks. In my head. In my heart.
He closed the notebook and looked out the window.
The clouds scrolled by, white and peaceful.
'See you soon, grandmother,' he thought. 'On screens.'
He closed his eyes.
Japan welcomed them with rain.
A fine, gentle rain that smelled familiar. Kenji breathed deeply as they left the airport. The air was different from London's. More humid, denser. The smell of pines, wet sidewalks, home.
Daichi, next to him, looked up at the grey sky. "It's raining."
"This is Japan."
"I know." Daichi smiled. "It's good to be back."
Kenji nodded. 'Yes. It's good.'
Grandfather was waiting for them at the exit, smiling, arms wide open.
"THE BOYS!"
Daichi ran and threw himself into his arms. Kenji followed, more calmly, but with a discreet smile at the corner of his lips.
Grandfather hugged them both.
"So, this trip? Tell me everything."
In the car taking them back to Fukuoka, Daichi talked non-stop. About Italy, Spain, England. About the heroes, the monuments, the food. About grandmother.
"She's awesome, Grandpa. She has a HUGE library. Books everywhere. And she knows the Queen! THE QUEEN!"
Grandfather laughed. "I know, I know. I'm the one who introduced you, aren't I?"
Kenji looked out the window. The streets of Fukuoka scrolled by, familiar, reassuring. The same shops, the same faces, the same life.
'I'm home,' he thought. 'Truly home.'
He took out Eleanor's notebook — the one he had started on the plane — and quickly added:
Return to Japan
The rain smells good. The streets are familiar. Grandfather was waiting for us.
The journey is over.
I can't wait to see Yuki, Toru. To tell them everything. To show them the photos, the notebooks, the memories.
I can't wait to see Bishop. To tell him about Carol. To ask him what she meant.
But for now, I'm here. In this car. With my family.
It's good.
He closed the notebook and looked out the window.
The rain fell softly on Fukuoka. And Kenji smiled.