[Third Person's PoV]
A few days had passed since Krypto was officially introduced to the world as Superdog, and ever since then, Clark couldn't walk down a hallway without hearing both their superhero names being brought up. It was lunchtime now, and as Clark stepped out of his classroom and into the bustling corridors of the school, the excitement in the air was almost palpable. Everywhere he went, people were talking about Krypto.
Students gathered in tight clusters, showing off videos on their phones. He overheard snippets of their conversations as he passed by.
"Oh my god, this is awesome! A superhero with a pet superhero? That's, like, the coolest thing ever!"
"Did you see the video of Superdog tackling that purse snatcher and handing the bag back to the old lady? That was so adorable. Instant favorite!"
"No way, the best one is when he saved that drowning kid at the beach, and then hit his stomach so hard that the water literally shot out of the kid's mouth! Like, what kind of dog knows CPR?!"
Clark couldn't help the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Still, he forced himself to remain stoic, blending into the crowd as he made his way up the stairs, pretending he wasn't eavesdropping.
As he climbed higher, he passed by a group huddled around a phone, watching a clip of Krypto lifting the back of a car off the ground with his jaws while flying. The car thief inside looked utterly stunned.
What Clark found the most strange about the situation is that he gained the most joy upon hearing them talk more about Krypto than they ever did about him. It was like his way of bragging about what a good dog he had. Everyone seemed to agree—Krypto was a good boy, the best even.
Eventually, Clark reached the rooftop—the one place at school where he could truly be alone. The rooftop was usually empty, which made it the perfect place for him to be alone when he wanted. He climbed the side ladder that was placed by the outer entrance of the rooftop, hopped over the edge, and stretched out beneath the open sky, letting the warmth of the sun soak into his skin.
'Heh, when you think about it, this is basically me having lunch,' Clark thought, amused, placing his hands behind his head and closing his eyes.
Minutes passed in peaceful silence until he suddenly heard the creak of the rooftop door swinging open. His body tensed. He held his breath, trying to make himself as still and undetectable as possible.
Then came the unmistakable sound of metal—the rungs of the ladder outside being climbed.
A moment later, a familiar voice called out cheerfully, "Hello!"
Clark's foot shot out toward the intruder, in a mock gesture of kicking her off.
"WHOA, WHOA, WHOA! WAAAAA—!"
It was Lois Lane.
Her head had just peeked above the rooftop when Clark's boot caught her by surprise. She flinched, lost her grip on the ladder, and began flailing backward with a panicked scream.
"OH SHOOT!"
Clark dove off the roof, catching her midair before she hit the ground. He twisted through the air effortlessly, landing on his feet in a crouch, holding Lois in a classic princess carry.
"WHAT THE HELL IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?!" they both yelled at the same time. "WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH ME?! WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH YOU!?".
"Who the hell just lets go of a ladder and starts falling like that?!" Clark said, eyes wide with disbelief.
"And who the hell tries to kick someone in the face as they're climbing up?!" Lois shot back, glaring daggers at him.
"I wasn't actually gonna kick you! And if you weren't such an annoying pest, I wouldn't have reacted like that in the first place. Honestly, you've only got yourself to blame," Clark muttered, setting her down gently.
"You are seriously something else…" Lois said, brushing off her skirt and straightening her clothes with a huff.
Clark glanced away awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "...Sorry," he mumbled, as he was only meant to scare her, not endanger her.
Lois paused, looked at him for a beat, then sighed. "Thanks for saving me…"
Then, with a sudden shift in demeanor, she spun to face him with a dazzling smile and gave him a thumbs-up like a slick businesswoman. "Now, how about, as repayment for the emotional trauma you caused me, you join my club?"
Clark didn't even blink. "Have a good day, Ms. Lane," he said in a flat tone, turning on his heel and climbing back up the ladder.
Lois followed right behind, laughing. "Heh, I'm joking! Believe it or not, I'm not here to recruit you this time."
Clark raised an eyebrow but said nothing, lying back down on the rooftop with his arms folded behind his head again. "So you're just here to bother me. Don't you have something better to do? Like making sure your dumb club doesn't get shut down?"
"I could, but I left all that to my junior," Lois said casually, sitting down beside him with her legs crossed. "It's you that I want most of all, anyway."
Clark immediately turned away, curling into a fetal position like he was trying to sleep.
"...Perv."
Lois rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "We both know that's not what I meant. At first, I just thought getting you to join the club would be a fun challenge, maybe something to spice things up. Then I found out who you really were, and suddenly, getting you to join became a mission."
Clark, who had been lounging with his eyes closed, slowly opened them and raised an eyebrow in her direction. "Found out who I was?" he echoed, suspicion slipping into his tone.
Lois's vibrant purple eyes shimmered with a playful glint, mischief dancing in her expression like she knew something he didn't want her to know. "Yes, Clark Ayase. I know your secret~" she said, sing-songing the last word with exaggerated mystery.
Clark frowned and sat up, bracing himself up with his hands as he narrowed his eyes. 'Does she actually know, or is she just bluffing?' he wondered to himself.
"And what secret is that, exactly?" he asked, voice low and cautious.
Lois leaned forward, placing both arms on her knees. "I know," she said with mock seriousness, "that you're secretly a photographer with a passion for snapshots—and the true, unclaimed winner of Tokyo's Mini-League Photography Contest."
Clark blinked. Once. Twice. Then he stared at her like she had grown two heads.
"...Yeah, I'm sorry for the language I'm about to use," he muttered, "but what the fuck are you talking about? Are you just saying random bullshit to mess with me or something?"
"Nope," Lois said with a shrug, pulling something from her coat pocket. "I figured you wouldn't remember. That's okay. I came prepared." She handed him a small wrinkled photograph, her expression shifting from amused to thoughtful.
Clark took the photo, brows furrowing in confusion. It depicted a contest stage with three large framed pictures in the background and two children standing in the foreground.
The boy on the left had short hair, glasses, and a pair of unfortunate buck teeth. He wore a third-place medal and stood in front of a chaotic but well-composed image of Tokyo's bustling traffic.
Next to him stood a girl—her hair was short and black, her striking purple eyes red and puffy, clearly from crying. She wore a forced grin that showed off two missing front teeth, holding a silver medal. Behind her was a breathtaking photo of a lush green forest.
And then there was the third picture—no child beside it, yet it stood as the clear winner, crowned with a ribbon that boldly proclaimed "First Place." The image itself was a top-down aerial shot of Kyoto in the golden hour, warm light washing over rooftops and mountains like a painting. Clark immediately recognized it. He took that photo. It was one he captured when he had just learned how to fly and had shown it to Momo.
He looked up at Lois, who now appeared flustered, scratching the back of her head awkwardly.
"That crying girl? That was me," she said, pointing at herself in the photo. "I was devastated when I lost that contest. I wanted that win more than anything. It was supposed to be proof to my dad that I could follow in his footsteps and become a real reporter someday."
Her embarrassment slowly gave way to simmering anger.
"But you?" she said, voice rising. "You didn't even show up to claim your award! You didn't check the results, didn't celebrate, didn't care! I worked my butt off for that contest, and I lost to someone who didn't even bother showing up!"
Clark winced at the volume, rubbing his earlobe as she continued.
"I was so furious that I memorized the winner's name out of spite. 'Clark Ayase'—I etched it into my brain, hoping that one day I'd meet you and give you a piece of my mind."
Then, her expression softened once more, and she chuckled bitterly.
"But I grew up. I eventually realized that I had lost fair and square. Your photo was better. Way better. Still, imagine my shock when I started digging around your class and heard your name. And not just your first name—the whole thing. It clicked immediately. Clark Ayase. A rare American-Japanese name. There's no way it was a coincidence."
Clark groaned, rubbing his forehead like he was developing a migraine. 'That meddling old woman… I told her I wasn't interested in contests, and she still submitted that picture. I knew she did this when she visited Kyoto with Momo… Now look where that got me'
Lois leaned closer with a bright, triumphant smile. "So once I realized it was you, I knew I had to convince you to join the club even more. Someone with your eye for photography? You'd elevate the entire club!"
Clark let out a long, exhausted sigh, dragging his hands down his face.
At this point, all he wanted to do was curl up into a ball, disappear into the void, and pretend none of this ever happened. Maybe even swallow kryptonite in the process.
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