(Nitsuki Narumi's Perspective)
The early morning was a sanctuary. I inhaled deeply, smelling the faint trace of ozone and the heavy, sweet perfume of jasmine from the garden. "Ah, what a peaceful night it was," I murmured, stretching until the joints in my spine cracked, the sound loud in the quiet room.
I stayed still, gazing at the square of pale blue sky visible through my window. It represented a simplicity that rarely existed in my life. This small illusion of peace was precious, but it shattered the moment my mother's voice broke the silence.
My name is Nitsuki Narumi. I am seventeen, and I am about to begin another day as a high school student, a role I performed poorly.
The labels are constant and inescapable: the "loser," the "failure boy." They are harsh, but they carry a frustrating grain of truth. My academic performance is consistently mediocre. I am a liability in sports, possessing no coordination or endurance. Socially, I am a disaster, terrified of group settings and utterly incapable of casual conversation. I am, essentially, a non-entity.
I don't have a wide circle of friends, yet I am not entirely alone. I have two people who gave my life shape and meaning. They are my two invaluable anchors.
The first is Takashi Yamazaki. Takashi is an intellectual force. His mind is sharp, precise, and analytical. He is undeniably the smartest person I knew, yet his chilly, reserved nature kept everyone else at a distance. But for me, his loyalty is fierce, even if it is often expressed through dry, mocking remarks.
The second, my vital connection to sanity, is Sami Yan. Sami is grounded, clever, and possessed an innate empathy. She see reality clearly, often more clearly than I wished to. She is the one who stopped me from spiraling into total self-pity. They are my closest companions, the only ones who made the struggle of being Nitsuki Narumi worthwhile.
"Nitsuki! You are late for school! Get up and move!" My mother's voice, a familiar blend of love and urgent direction, boomed up the stairs.
A sudden, sharp rush of anxiety hit me. I fumbled for my phone, squinting at the time. "Damn it, I didn't check the clock!" I was disastrously late.
I launched myself out of bed, adrenaline pumping. I threw on my uniform, creating a masterpiece of rushed disarray—a crumpled shirt, a half-tucked tie. There was no time for breakfast. The delicious, comforting smell of my mother's cooking had to be ignored.
I grabbed my bag and sprinted for the door. I heard her footsteps rushing to the entrance.
"Nitsuki! Wait! Your breakfast!"
I couldn't stop. I yelled a quick, breathless apology over my shoulder. I heard her pause, then a soft, understanding laugh. "This boy truly will never change."
I ran with the knowledge of my family's deep, constant love. My mother's eternal care, my little sister's unwavering support, and my father's silent, rock-steady belief in me. Their love was my only true source of strength.
I arrived at the school gate, breathless and thoroughly disheveled. Sami Yan was waiting, leaning against the main pillar.
"Oii, Nitsuki!" she called out, her expression a mix of amusement and affection. "Seriously, why is your hair such a mess? Did you run here through a wind tunnel?" She reached out and playfully pinched the skin on my arm.
"Just forget it," I muttered, batting her hand away. "Let's go. I can't afford another late mark."
As we walked briskly through the now-crowded corridor, I tried to normalize the rush. "So, Sami, did you finally get that limited edition game you were saving for?"
Sami sighed, a sound of profound theatrical suffering. "I did. I played it exactly once last night, and then my little brother claimed it permanently. The cost of domestic peace is high." She rolled her eyes, though a small smile betrayed her fondness for her sibling.
Before I could respond, a familiar voice cut through the noise, slightly breathless but clear.
"Oiiiii! Nitsuki! Sami! Hold up!" Takashi Yamazaki jogged to meet us, adjusting the strap of his messenger bag with his customary precision.
Sami immediately greeted him with a light jab to the ribs. "You are consistently late, Takashi. Did you stop to calculate the wind resistance of your hair?" I spotted the thick book in his hand. "What esoteric text are you carrying today?"
Takashi proudly displayed the worn paperback. Its cover featured unsettling images of shattered planets and stylized, terrifying creatures. "This? It's about the Soul Apocalypse."
I frowned, the term sounding like pure fantasy. "A 'Soul Apocalypse'? What exactly is that supposed to be?"
Takashi gave me his practiced, superior smirk. "It's a popular speculative fiction series, Nitsuki. But of course, you wouldn't know. Sorry, I forgot who I was talking to." He smiled, the tease calculated but harmless.
"Stop antagonizing him, Takashi," Sami said firmly, stepping between us as we approached the classroom door. She switched to her role as the clear, practical explainer. "In the book, the Soul Apocalypse is a concept: a kind of powerful, cosmic virus that invades Earth after a catastrophic celestial impact, bringing with it mysterious beings." She lowered her voice to a dramatic whisper. "These creatures, called Soul Reapers, possess terrible, elemental abilities—like manipulation of fire and water, and telekinesis powers. They are driven by one purpose: they must consume human souls to survive and become stronger."
Takashi nodded, confirming the detail. "And to combat this evil, some humans spontaneously develop unique, superhuman abilities. The source of this energy is called 'Phore.' These fighters organize to save humanity and are known as Soul.R. Hunters!"
We quickly slipped into the classroom just as the final bell shrieked, forcing the conversation to an abrupt halt.
"I understand," I muttered, sinking into my seat.
My desk was in my usual spot: the last row, deep in the corner, right beside the window. This position gave me an essential escape—a view of the sky that was a perfect distraction from my monotonous life. Sami was next to me, and Takashi sat directly in front.
I stared out, lost in thought. The ridiculous, fictional discussion lingered. Life is so boring, I thought, a constant, weary refrain. If that Soul Apocalypse were real, what would I do? I'm a failure, I have no skills, no Phore, no strength.
Mrs. Kaneshiro, our stern and predictable teacher, arrived and clapped her hands sharply.
"Attention everyone. Today, we will discuss environmental conservation. This is mandatory exam material." Her voice was a low, steady drone.
I instantly tuned out her lecture, fixing my gaze on the sky. Sami shot me a quick, worried glance, urging me to focus, but I ignored her. The sky held more interest than most of things.
Then, I saw it.
My entire body stiffened. A fast-moving distortion in the distance. It was too vast, too rapid to be a plane or a meteorological event. My heart started to slam against my ribs.
The color of the sky, moments ago a calming blue, began to change, rapidly shifting to a sickening, luminous Dark Navy Blue. The unnatural, diseased light flooded the classroom.
A wave of collective, terrified gasps swept the room. Mrs. Kaneshiro's lecture ceased mid-sentence. Every head snapped toward the windows, their faces pale and horrified by the dark navy blue glow. Panic, sharp and palpable, began to spread.
At that exact moment, the world lost power.
The fluorescent lights died with a flat pop. The air conditioning unit fell silent. Outside, the familiar distant sounds of the city's traffic, the low rumble of engines and the occasional horn, vanished. Everything went silent, as if the entire technological grid of the town had suddenly been switched off.
We watched, mesmerized by terror, as a colossal, dark shape descended. It looked like a vast, burning meteor, a jagged mountain of metal and fire tearing through the dark navy blue atmosphere. It emitted a horrific, grinding screech as it plunged downward. Then, it disappeared behind the treeline of the dense forest, approximately a few kilometers away.
A moment of impossible, frozen silence settled over us.
Then, the impact. BOOM!
The sound was not just auditory; it was physical, a catastrophic hammer blow. A fraction of a second later, the shockwave hit the school, a silent, invisible ramming force. The windows exploded instantly, showering us with deadly, sharp glass. The concrete structure groaned, shaking violently. Students screamed, a chorus of sheer, primal terror, mixed with the sickening crunch of collapsing masonry and wood. A huge, billowing column of black, oily smoke shot up over the forest, polluting the dark navy blue sky with a poisonous black stain. The air immediately filled with the acrid, heavy stench of ozone, burning plastic, and pulverized earth.
A high-pitched, unbearable ringing filled my skull. My jaw ached. I tasted blood and dust. A fierce, searing pain shot through my left arm—it lay awkwardly pinned beneath a heavy slab of broken wall.
"Was I knocked out?" I groaned, attempting to push myself up with my right arm. I scrubbed the gritty dust from my eyes. "Damn it, my left arm is definitely broken."
The silence returned, but it was a wounded, broken quiet, punctuated only by the painful ringing in my ears and the soft, desperate whimpering of the survivors. The world felt ruined.
"Sami... Takashi?" That thought, sharp and clear, pierced the haze of pain and shock. They were the only focus I had left.
I stumbled to my feet, fighting the searing agony in my arm.
"Sami! Taksahi!" My voice was weak, scratchy, and foreign in the vast debris field.
The scene was pure nightmare. The entire school was utterly devastated—a jumble of twisted metal beams, shattered concrete, and splinters of wood. The dark navy blue sky was sickly,
Chaos reigned: small, stubborn fires flickered; the air was thick with the toxic smell of burning materials. Students were running, weeping, or simply frozen in shock. Some were still.
I screamed their names again and again, until my throat was raw. "Sami! Taksahi! Sami…! Takashi…!"
"No. I won't accept it." I pushed the terrifying thought away with a desperate, white-hot fury. "They are here. I must find them."
Using my right arm, I leveraged a large piece of splintered desk, ignoring the blinding spike of pain that radiated from my broken limb. I scanned every face, every piece of fabric, desperate for any sign of my two friends.
The cold grip of panic surrounding my chest tightened, replaced by a desperate, single focus. I thought of my parents and my sister, still waiting at home. I had to get home. But first, I have to secure the two most important people in my life.
(And that day was the last glimps of happiness)