---
Chapter 2 — "Echoes in the Heart"
By the time Mitsuo walked Izumi home, the city had settled into its late-evening hush. Street lamps flickered on one by one, casting soft golden circles across the pavement. The world felt familiar in the comforting way of a childhood memory… but it also felt freshly dangerous, as if each shadow might hide something the anime never showed.
Izumi walked beside him, her stride unhurried. She kept glancing at him, like she was trying to read a new chapter of a book she thought she already knew.
"You're different today," she finally said, nudging him lightly with her elbow. "Not bad-different. Just… deeper? Is that weird?"
Mitsuo laughed under his breath. "I didn't know I had a 'deep' mode."
"Oh, you absolutely didn't." She tucked her hair behind her ear. "But it suits you. A little."
That small compliment made the Echo Mask inside his bag give a gentle pulse — a warm hum, like a pebble dropped into still water. Mitsuo still hadn't figured out if the mask responded to emotion or intention, but every time Izumi smiled at him, the mask seemed to glow faintly, as if reacting to his heartbeat.
They reached a corner where the night breeze cut sharper. Izumi tightened her grip around the strap of her bag.
"You're thinking hard," she said softly. "Something happened today, right? You're hiding something."
Mitsuo's foot froze mid-step. The instinct to lie flickered — he had a secret identity, after all — but the echo-bell in his mind chimed once, a warning. If he shut her out too much, he might lose something delicate before it had a chance to grow.
"I'm not hiding something bad," he said carefully. "Just… something complicated."
She eyed him for a long second. "Complicated good, or complicated bad?"
He smiled. "Good. I think."
Her expression softened. "Then I'll wait until you're ready to tell me."
Those words — simple, trusting — hit him harder than a villain's punch ever could. He nodded, grateful. They continued in silence until they reached the gate of her apartment building.
Izumi stepped inside the pool of lamplight, the glow outlining the curve of her cheek and the gentle lift of her lips.
"Walk me home tomorrow too?" she asked.
Mitsuo blinked. "Every day if you want."
Her smile widened. "Then it's a promise."
She disappeared inside with a soft click of the door, leaving Mitsuo with a strange ache in his chest — the good kind, the kind that meant something was beginning.
He waited until her room light turned on. Only then did he exhale.
---
When he reached home, Birdman was waiting — perched on the balcony railing like some eccentric guardian spirit. The sight would have scared a normal person, but Mitsuo had lived this world once already. Instead, he slid the balcony door open and stepped inside.
"You were late," Birdman said, voice steady.
"I was with someone," Mitsuo replied, placing the mask gently on the table.
Birdman's eyes narrowed. "Someone important?"
"Yes."
A small, almost unreadable smile touched the corners of Birdman's mouth. "Good. Heroes with attachments fight harder."
Mitsuo frowned. "I thought attachments made us vulnerable."
"They do." Birdman hopped down lightly. "But vulnerability makes you human. And humans make choices more powerful than any order I could give."
He stretched his hand toward the Echo Mask. "Tell me — what do you feel when you wear it?"
"Like… my emotions become strength."
Birdman nodded. "Exactly. A normal Perman mask hides identity and grants power. The Echo Mask does more. It amplifies the heart. A hero whose strength grows with emotion can change the flow of fate."
Mitsuo blinked. "Fate?"
Birdman's wings shimmered faintly. "Your reincarnation wasn't random. You are not simply repeating a story you once watched. You are here to alter paths that were previously fixed."
Mitsuo's breath caught. "Are you saying something big is coming?"
Birdman hesitated, then said quietly, "Something that didn't exist in the original timeline."
Before Mitsuo could question him, Birdman stepped back onto the balcony, wings half-spread.
"Train yourself. Understand your heart. And protect what anchors you." His eyes flicked meaningfully toward Izumi's direction.
Then he was gone, dissolving into a trailing shimmer of moonlight.
---
The next morning felt different — heavier, but clearer. As Mitsuo pulled on his school uniform, he caught his reflection in the mirror. Same face. Same body. Same typical hairstyle. But something sharp had settled behind his eyes — purpose.
On the walk to school, the echo-bell in his mind tingled. Not danger — but attention. Someone was watching him.
He didn't see who until after class started.
The moment he entered the room, two eyes pinned him from the back corner. A girl with short hair, sharp features, and a serious expression. Someone he recognized from the original anime — but older now, more defined.
Sumire Minamoto.
In the anime, she had been graceful, intelligent, and brave. Now, at 18, she radiated a mature confidence that made the air shift around her. She watched Mitsuo with a small, knowing smile.
When he took his seat, Izumi leaned close. "That girl's been staring at you since morning."
"Who, Sumire?"
Izumi blinked. "You know her?"
"Kind of," Mitsuo said, realizing too late that he'd answered too easily.
Sumire stood up suddenly and crossed the room with quiet precision. Students turned to watch as she stopped beside Mitsuo's desk.
"You. Suwa," she said softly. "Follow me."
Izumi straightened, eyes narrowing. "Hey, what do you want with him?"
Sumire's gaze flicked toward Izumi, then back to Mitsuo. "Just a talk. He'll be safe."
Mitsuo felt the bell inside him hum with a warning.
He stood. "Alright. Let's talk."
He followed Sumire to the empty music room. The moment the door shut behind them, her posture changed — shoulders tense, eyes fiercer.
"Drop the act," she said. "I saw you last night."
A cold rush hit him. "Saw me… what?"
"Flying." Her voice was a whisper, but it vibrated with certainty. "You're Perman No. 1 again, aren't you?"
Mitsuo's throat tightened. His fingers twitched toward his bag instinctively.
Before he could deny or confirm, Sumire stepped closer — almost too close — her breath brushing his cheek.
"You're not the only one with secrets."
Mitsuo froze as she slowly lifted her sleeve.
On her wrist glowed a faint blue mark — a symbol he had never seen in the anime.
"What is that…?"
Her eyes locked onto his.
"A warning," she said quietly. "Something has changed in this world. And you're right in the middle of it."
---