Tokyo, Japan - year 2016
They said he had no power. They whispered it in the halls, behind their hands, in the tone that held both mockery and pity. Seraphim Academy, a prestigious institution for the gifted, had seen fire-wielders, lightning tamers, ice sculptors who froze entire arenas with a sigh. But Kaito Tsukihara? Kaito had nothing.
Nothing, except his will to prove them wrong and show them he is not worth pity and mockery....
He walked through the gates of Seraphim with his shoulders relaxed but spine straight, like a blade sheathed but ready. His ash-blond hair caught the morning light as if it, too, refused to bow to the world. Students parted for him out of reflex, unsure why. Maybe it was the way his icy blue eyes didn't quite belong to a sixteen-year-old boy—like they belonged to someone who had died many times, and learned from each one.
The uniform clung neatly to him, black and silver with his own subtle customizations. A golden chain looped from his collar to pocket. But beneath it, hidden under layers of silence and skin, glowed the mark of who he truly was: a solar eclipse tattoo spanning his upper spine, ancient runes orbiting its dark core.
Kaito didn't glance at the crowd. He already knew who judged him. He already knew they didn't matter. And that he needed to show them who he is by force.
"Tsukihara Kaito," the teacher called, eyes skimming the class roster.
Kaito stepped forward. The classroom was too clean, too bright. A sharp contrast to the weight in his chest.
The silence after his name was telling. Students murmured. some girls were talking about his looks and some boys talked about how arrogant and laid back he looks.
He bowed politely. "I'm Kaito. I transferred here after traveling abroad. I look forward to working with you."
Only a few clapped most felt something was off from him like a light bulb not being on from kaito.
"What's your element? What clan are you from? and what's your tier?" someone from the back barked.
"What power do you even have?"
Kaito straightened. His eyes met theirs calmly.
"None that you can see."
More laughter.
But the teacher was frozen. She saw something—faint glowing beneath the back of Kaito's shirt. An ancient symbol pulsed like a heartbeat. Her breath caught. She didn't say a word.
Kaito went to sit in the back, by the window. The sunlight warmed his arm, but not his thoughts. He breathed quietly, sifting through the hum of the classroom, letting the past ripple just beneath the surface.
You can show them, came a voice. Deep, gravelly. Break the desk in half. Let them eat their words!!
"No," Kaito whispered under his breath.
Another voice joined in. Velvet-smooth, British. Darling, if you're not going to crush their bones, at least bind their mouths shut. They speak nonsense.
He rolled his eyes slightly. Not now, Evelyn.
A third voice laughed, this one wild, cocky, brimming with mischief.
Hell, just summon me. I could do this with a blindfold, upside-down, one gun tied behind my back.
Isaiah.
Then the silence again. The familiar, sharp silence that belonged to only one.
Takeshi Rengoku didn't speak unless necessary. But his presence was felt. Like a sword balanced at the nape of your neck.
Finally, the faintest chill. They do not remember what you are, Anastasia murmured. Let them forget. And then... remind them but do not become them
Kaito exhaled slowly.
He closed his eyes, and for a second, the room felt crowded—five lifetimes pressed behind his ribs. He could feel the heartbeat of Zuberi in his arms, steady like drums of war. Evelyn's magic curled around his fingertips like smoke waiting for wind. Isaiah's laughter ticked like a revolver. Takeshi's stillness aligned his breath. Anastasia's memories ghosted the edges of his mind.
He was not just Kaito Tsukihara.
He was the Celestial Guardian.
And though the world had forgotten, he would remind them—when the time was right.
The bell rang.
He stood up.
"Hey! you dirty null!" A tall boy with spiky flame-orange hair blocked his path. Fire elemental. Brash. Predictable. "Think you can sit here like you're better than us?"
Kaito met his gaze. Said nothing.
Another boy cracked his knuckles. Earth elemental. "Say something. Or maybe you're just scared."
Kaito sighed.
"You really want to do this here?"
The fire user smirked. "What? Gonna call your mommy?"
The moment the word left his mouth, Kaito moved.
One step. A twist. A shift in weight.
In three seconds, the fire user was face-down on the floor, arm pinned at an impossible angle. The earth user blinked—then found Kaito already behind him, sweeping his legs.
Gasps.
He let them go gently.
No flame. No stone.
Just Kaito.
The classroom watched in silence. Not awe, not yet. Just confusion. Because in a world where power meant everything, he had none.
Except he did.
He carried the strength of a slave who broke chains with his bare hands. The mind of a witch burned and unbroken. The aim of a ghost with golden guns. The code of a samurai. The whispers of a war-forged soul.
"Who... are you?" someone muttered.
Kaito walked past them all, heading toward the next class.
He didn't answer.
But the eclipse tattoo on his back glowed faintly.
And in the silence that followed, they finally felt it.
Power.