[Third Person's PoV]
Clark's right eye twitched, a subtle but telling sign that he was barely holding himself together. His whole body seemed tense, like a tightly coiled spring on the verge of snapping. It was clear he was using every ounce of willpower he possessed to not erupt on the spot, right there in the middle of the school courtyard.
He inhaled sharply, the breath dragging through his lungs like sandpaper. It was the kind of breath someone took when they were trying to keep themselves from dropping to their knees and screaming at the sky, questioning whatever cosmic forces kept throwing nonsense into their path. Clark didn't cry, but in that moment, he wanted to.
Then came her voice again. The ever-persistent voice. He looked down and saw her hand extended toward him, a bright smile on her face, eyes glittering with godawful optimism.
Clark stared at her hand, then slowly raised his gaze to meet her eyes. She looked so… hopeful. It only made things worse.
"Yeah, no," he said, brushing past her with a deadpan tone and a dismissive wave. 'I'm not dealing with this crap. Yesterday should've been a sign. Honestly, I shouldn't have even gotten out of bed this morning.'
Lois Lane, undeterred, turned to keep up with his pace. "Just listen to what my club has to offer! It won't hurt, would it? Just a few minutes of your time!" she said, practically bouncing with enthusiasm.
Something inside Clark snapped. The exhausting back-and-forth with the sports club earlier, the swarm of students trying to shove flyers at him, and now this—this persistent girl who just had to be Lois Lane, of all people. It was irritation stacked on top of annoyance, layered with frustration and sprinkled with absurdity.
He came to a dead stop.
Lois, noticing the pause, seized her chance. "You see, it's just me and one other person in our club. And if we don't get enough members, the school's going to shut us down—"
"Oop—!" she gasped as Clark suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders. Without any effort at all, he lifted her clean off the ground like she weighed no more than a bag of feathers.
"Wait—huh? What are you doing?!" she exclaimed, legs flailing slightly as he turned and walked back toward her booth.
In a few firm steps, Clark returned her to the stand where old, classic news reports were displayed, some printed off cheap websites, others yellowed with time. He gently set her down in front of the table. Then he leaned forward, bringing his face level with hers, his head tilting slightly as if studying a strange and frustrating puzzle.
"Ms. Lane," he began, voice low and calm but laced with unmistakable irritation. "If it hasn't become abundantly obvious to you by now, I have absolutely no interest in joining your little club. You could lose all your funding, get shut down, or fall into the ocean for all I care—it wouldn't make a difference to me."
Her eyes widened slightly, but Clark continued, unwavering.
"You saw how annoyed I was when I was approached earlier. Yet you still thought it would be wise to chase me down and pitch your offer like I hadn't already made myself clear. That alone tells me you lack something critical—basic situational awareness. And you run a newspaper club? A reporter needs to read people, not bulldoze through their boundaries."
He straightened up just slightly, but his voice became even colder.
"Then, when I turned you down, your response was to say you don't take no for an answer, that you're stubborn. You said it with pride, like it was a badge of honor. But let me be honest with you, Ms. Lane—that doesn't make you look confident. It makes you look childish. Spoiled. Like someone who stomps their foot when they don't get their way."
Lois opened her mouth to protest, but Clark cut her off with a final, decisive tone.
"So, I'm going to say this one last time, and I sincerely hope you're paying attention: No. I'm not joining your club. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not next week. Not ever. This conversation is over, and you will not approach me about this again."
He adjusted the strap of his bag and took a step back, his eyes never leaving hers.
"I hope you have a pleasant day, Ms. Lane," he said curtly. With that, he turned on his heel and walked off, disappearing into the school building without so much as a glance back.
Lois stood frozen in place, stunned into silence. Her hands slowly rose to her face as she curled her stack of pamphlets and registration forms, pressing them to her lips to hide the growing smirk beneath.
Her eyes shimmered—not with embarrassment, but with something far more dangerous: determination.
"I don't care if this is the last thing I do for the club," she whispered to herself. "I'm getting him to join…"
There was nothing Lois Lane loved more than a challenge that felt impossible. And Clark had just volunteered himself as the biggest challenge she'd ever encountered.
She chuckled, low and mischievous. "Someone who has guts… someone who speaks his mind without hesitation… someone brutally honest, even when it hurts. He's perfect."
Her mind wandered for a moment as she rubbed her shoulders, recalling the moment Clark had lifted her like it was nothing.
'He's also strong... What the hell kind of cityboy picks up a girl like she's made of air?'
…
Clark had his forehead pressed against the cold metal of his locker, his class schedule crumpled slightly in his hand. His expression was the embodiment of mental defeat.
"Was it really that bad?" Momo asked, one brow arched as she leaned casually against the lockers across from him. Her arms were crossed, her posture relaxed, holding her own schedule sheet.
"I want to kill myself…" Clark muttered, closing his eyes in utter exasperation.
"I'll take that as a yes," Momo said, reaching out and snatching the paper from his fingers before he could protest.
She scanned it with mild interest. "Well, that's a bummer. You got placed in Class 1-A. I'm stuck in 1-C… though it looks like we'll share a couple of periods."
"Yippee," Clark said flatly, snatching the schedule back with a sharp flick of his wrist.
As they stood there, Clark could feel the atmosphere shift slightly. From a distance, Clark noticed hushed murmurs and the sound of shoes shuffling against ground in hurry—students parting like the Red Sea for someone clearly important.
"Whoa, she's gorgeous…"
"Is she even real?"
"She looks like a goddess. I wouldn't dare talk to her."
"No way… Komi Shouko? We went to the same middle school. I can't believe I get to bask in her divine presence even in high school."
Clark sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning inwardly. "What the hell is wrong with people?" he grumbled.
Curious despite himself, he activated his supervision, scanning through the crowd to see what had everyone so enthralled.
And then he saw her.
Tall, graceful, and gliding down the hallway with an elegance that seemed almost otherworldly. Her long, glossy purple hair shimmered under the lights, and her strikingly beautiful face held an expression of soft coldness. She radiated an aura so ethereal it was borderline intimidating. People admired her, yet hesitated to approach.
Clark clicked his tongue in irritation. 'Must be nice… If only people hesitated to talk to me like that. Maybe I'd finally be left alone for once.'
Shaking the thought away, he turned to Momo and muttered, "Let's just go to class already…"
"Huh? But I wanted to see what the fuss was about," Momo replied, finally catching wind of the excited chatter.
"It's just a bunch of idiots being dumbasses," Clark said, already walking off.
Momo rolled her eyes but followed him regardless. Even if they were headed to different classrooms, the path was mostly the same for now.
Meanwhile, further down the row of lockers, a girl with long pink hair tied with butterfly clips poked her head around a corner. Her brows furrowed in confusion.
'That voice… I swear I just heard someone sounding extremely irritated…' Nino thought, scanning the hallway. She frowned. 'It sounded just like him…'
She shook her head and turned back to her locker with a small smirk. 'Heh. Probably just imagining it… If only'
Elsewhere, Clark eventually arrived at his classroom and gently pushed the door open. He stood at the entrance like a giant shadow, his broad frame momentarily drawing the attention of a few early arrivals.
Only five or six students had arrived so far, the rest still trickling in. Clark quietly stepped inside and made his way to a window seat bathed in warm sunlight.
As he moved, a friendly voice called out to him.
"Hey, Clark! What a coincidence—we're in the same school and class!"
He turned slightly and gave a half-nod. "Sup, Haruna."
Sairenji Haruna smiled brightly, unfazed by his blunt response. She was a classmate from middle school—one of the few people Clark didn't actively dislike. She understood his boundaries, respected his need for space, and didn't push herself on him. That alone earned her a degree of tolerance he rarely extended.
Haruna chuckled softly, used to his distant demeanor. "Still the same as ever, huh?"
Clark didn't respond, already settling into his seat by the window. He leaned on the desk, resting his chin against his palm, eyes heavy with disinterest.
As more students filed in, the class began to fill up. A red-haired girl wearing star-shaped hair clips took the seat in front of him. Then, just moments later, Komi Shouko entered the room.
Clark raised an eyebrow as she approached—she sat in the seat right beside him.
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. Her hands were trembling slightly as she adjusted her bag, her body language stiff and nervous.
'Is she… trembling?' Clark thought, puzzled. 'Is she nervous or something?'
After a brief pause, he decided not to care. Whatever it was, it wasn't his problem.
He turned his gaze toward the window again, letting the sunlight wash over his face as the rest of the class finished arriving.
The chatter around him faded into white noise. His thoughts drifted far away from school, students, or clubs.
Instead, one simple, lonely thought took root.
'I miss Krypto…'
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