My name is Kenji Tanaka. I'm 21 years old and work for the public police force. Sounds heroic when you say it like that, but the reality is way less glamorous. Destiny, or rather, a new attack report had other plans. Today, for example, my only goal was to finish my shift without any trouble. So much for that. Destinyor rather, a new attack report had other plans.
The alert says there's an incident right in front of the station. I stand up, adjust my cap, and push through the glass doors. I barely take a step outside before the whole world tilts.
BOOM.
A deafening blast makes my ears ring. The ground shakes under my boots, knocking me off balance. A massive cloud of grey dust rises, swallowing the sky, as the building across the street collapses in a heap of metal and concrete.
In the middle of the chaos, a monster takes shape. It's a thirty-meter-high nightmare: slimy purple skin, ten jointed legs clawing at the asphalt, and a gaping maw filled with razor-sharp teeth. A total biological horror.
Or at least, it was. Because the creature is already lying in a pool of its own bluish blood, lifeless.
"Another one?" I sighed, brushing the dust off my uniform.
The guy responsible is standing right there, perched on the monster's flank, bathed in the sunlight piercing through the smoke. He's a Hero. Obviously. The man is a walking cliché of perfection: golden armor, shimmering blonde hair, and blue eyes that seem to glow with light. His power is as simple as it is effective: capable of using the light for raw strength. Great for press photos, not so great for the insurance adjusters who have to deal with the collateral damage.
Around him, a crowd is already gathering, forgetting the danger just to cheer for their savior.
"Such power! It's incredible!" they scream.
While the civilians geek out over "Supershine," I remember my actual mission. I'm not here to secure the perimeter or interview the hero. No, I'm on supply duty. I have to go buy instant noodles for the whole team.
In this world, the genetic lottery is cruel. There are those born with flames at their fingertips or the speed of sound in their legs. And then, there's us, the normal people. We watch the gods fight from the sidewalk, praying our apartments don't turn into dust.
I cross the street with my head down. The contrast is bitter. To my left, Supershine is literally glowing under the flash of smartphones. To my right, I'm walking alone toward the corner store, invisible.
I finally reach the market. Pushing the door open, I hope for at least a little peace, but luck isn't on my side. At the register, a nervous man is brandishing a knife at a trembling cashier.
This is it. My police instincts kick in. Finally, a chance to shine, to show I'm more than just a noodle delivery boy! I take a deep breath, hand on my handcuffs.
"Hey, stop! I—"
I don't even have time to finish my sentence. A silhouette in a long black coat blurs out of nowhere. Two blades flash in the air, carving perfect arcs. In one fluid, almost choreographed motion, the thief is slammed to the ground, disarmed, and neutralized.
"Are you alright, ma'am?" the vigilante asks in a calm voice, without a single drop of sweat on his brow.
"Uh... yes, thank you..." the cashier murmurs, her cheeks flushing a deep red.
I just stand there, arm frozen in mid-air, my handcuffs dangling pathetically from my belt. Once again, I'm too late. A sting of bitterness pricks my eyes. Another heroic moment stolen by a professional glory-hound.
The hero in the black coat gets a call on his comm-bracelet. His expression hardens.
"Another monster nearby? I'm on it." He grabs the thief by the collar like a bag of groceries and vanishes in a single, massive leap.
I let out a long sigh. Just another normal day. I finally pick up my twenty packs of ramen, the team has the appetite of an ogre, and head to the counter.
"That'll be 1,400 yen, sir."
I hand over my last few bills, heart heavy. My wallet is now as empty as my sense of public utility. I walk out of the store, lugging two heavy plastic bags, ready to face my boss's lecture about being late.
But on the sidewalk, something stops me. A woman is standing perfectly still in the middle of the street. She's staring at the sky. It's not just her beauty that catches my eye, though her white hair and immaculate dress give her the air of a princess. No, it's the massive shadow sliding over her.
I look up, and my blood turns to ice. A chunk of the cornice, dislodged by the earlier explosion, is falling straight toward her. She's paralyzed, unable to move a muscle.
I drop my bags of noodles without thinking. The packs roll across the asphalt, forgotten.
"LADY, LOOK OUT!"
I bolt. My muscles burn, my lungs scream for air. She turns her head, eyes wide with terror. She doesn't even try to run; she just cowers and hides her face, waiting for the end.
"Move, damn it!"
In one final effort, I lunged and tackled her full-on to shove her out of the impact zone. My push is brutal, maybe too much. We roll across the ground just as the shadow swallows us whole. I close my eyes, a bitter smile on my lips. Dying crushed because I wanted to play second-rate hero... That's so you, Kenji.
BOOM.
The impact makes my teeth rattle. A dead silence follows, broken only by the crackle of falling debris. I slowly open one eyelid. Am I alive?
I pick myself up painfully, covered in dust and scratches. My uniform is in tatters, but I'm breathing. The woman is there, just inches away, still on her knees. And that's when I see it.
From behind her dress, a pure white tail twitches nervously. Then a second. A third. Is she a creature... or a human with a power? With a sharp flick of her hand, she tosses the heavy rubble surrounding us aside like it weighs nothing.
She stands up, trembling. Despite her apparent power, she looks terrified.
"Ma'am... are you okay?" I ask, my voice raspy.
Her eyes meet mine. Her tears stop instantly.
"I... I'm not dead?"
"No, you're alive," I reply simply, trying to catch my breath.
She stares at me, shocked by the state I'm in. I feel blood trickling down my forehead, and my knee is screaming in pain.
"Sir, you're hurt!"
"It's nothing. Just part of the job..."
"THANK YOU SO MUCH for saving me!" she cries out, bowing deeply.
For the first time in my career, someone is looking at me with genuine gratitude. Not for a stamp on a paper or for giving directions, but for risking my life. A wave of heat rushes to my face. Yet, a thought crosses my mind: she's the one who cleared the debris at the end. She's the strong one. But she doesn't even seem to realize it.
"Don't mention it. I just... did my duty," I say, trying to stay composed despite my crooked cap.
Embarrassed by her glowing smile, I stammer a few words and turn on my heel. I grab my mangled bags of noodles and head for the station. Heroes, monsters, fox girls... all I wanted was to eat in peace.
When I finally push open the station doors, breathless and covered in soot, the atmosphere is depressingly quiet. Some colleagues are snoring; others are staring at their screens. My boss, George, a man whose mustache could house a family of sparrows, looks up at me. His gaze hardens.
"Kenji!"
I prepare myself for medical help, or at least a question about my pathetic state.
"WHERE ARE THE NOODLES?"
I stand there, frozen. A single tear of pure despair rolls down my cheek.
"Chief, there was an emergency... look at my clothes."
"I don't care about your excuses! You lost the bet; you deal with it. Now get back out there and get those noodles, and make it snappy!"
"But... I don't have a single yen left!"
"Figure it out! That's an order!"
I look up at the ceiling, begging for a meteorite to finish me off for good. It's at that exact moment that the station door opens again.
Clink. The familiar sound of heels on the tile floor.