[Third Person Pov]
"You want to be friends with aliens?" Clark asked uncertainly. He wasn't even sure what kind of expression he should be making—confused, concerned, or mildly impressed. Truthfully, he didn't even know why he was still entertaining the conversation instead of shutting it down outright.
Maybe it was because of the boy's absurd luck. Out of everyone in the city, Ken Takakura had somehow managed to stumble into not just one alien, but two—one a Kryptonian, the other a Devilukian. Neither of them were even remotely from Earth. The sheer irony of it all was so thick that Clark almost found it funny, in a deeply unsettling sort of way.
Ken Takakura nodded firmly, his expression earnest and unwavering. "I'm sure that once I manage to find them, I'll be able to befriend them easily," he said, as if he were talking about making friends with a classmate rather than extraterrestrial beings.
"And you think you're going to find them by walking around the city with a radio?" Clark asked flatly, eyeing the strange apparatus in Ken's hands.
"Yes. After all, I already know Superman's secret identity," Ken replied as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. His voice carried a smug, almost arrogant confidence that immediately set off every internal alarm Clark had.
"Wha—"
Both Lala and Clark spoke at the same time, their voices overlapping in shock.
Lala spun toward Clark, her eyes wide as saucers. "He knows—!!"
Before she could finish her incredibly incriminating sentence, Clark reacted on pure instinct. He lunged forward, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and clapping a hand firmly over her mouth.
Lala let out a muffled cry, her words completely unintelligible but very clearly panicked. Through the noise, it almost sounded like she was shouting, Your secret identity!!
"Do you now?" Clark said calmly, forcing a pleasant, polite smile onto his face. "And how could you possibly know that? I doubt anyone in the world knows Superman's secret identity. After all, it's called a secret for a reason."
"Hohoho!" Ken exclaimed, clearly enjoying himself far too much. "It might be a secret to the common man, but not to me! I've done extensive research on Superman. I've recorded every single one of his saves across the world—every sighting, every appearance, every interview, and even his flight patterns. Ask me anything about Superman, and I'll know the answer."
'Okay, he's honestly starting to scare me,' Clark thought for a brief, unsettling moment.
He and Lala exchanged a glance—hers wide-eyed and alarmed, his strained and calculating—before turning their attention back to Ken.
"You see," Ken continued passionately, completely oblivious to the tension he was causing, "based on his latest interview, it's obvious that when he crash-landed on this planet, he landed in Japan, where he was raised. Then there's the timing of his heroic activity. During the mornings, his appearances are minimal—there's a slow incline, almost like he's not fully active yet. But in the afternoon, there's a sharp increase."
Clark's heart skipped.
"From this," Ken pressed on, "I can infer that Superman is a student. High school or college—I'm not entirely sure—but a student nonetheless."
'Holy shit…' Clark thought, his heart rate spiking. 'What the hell is wrong with this kid?'
Lala, who Clark trusted about as far as he could throw a planet, was staring at him with wide, unblinking eyes, her body rigid with tension beneath his arm.
"Are you sure you're not reading a little too much into it?" Clark asked, forcing a casual tone and a small, teasing smirk. "I mean, mornings are a slow start for everyone. Maybe Superman just isn't a morning person."
"Oh please," Ken scoffed, clearly offended. "Don't insult my intelligence. If his activity started at random times after the morning, I might agree. But it doesn't. It's consistent—every single weekday, around the same time. And then there are weekends."
Ken raised a finger dramatically. "On weekends, there's no pattern. Because there's no school. Not to mention, his activity spikes around the exact same time I get out of school. That's why I'm leaning more toward high school rather than college."
'Have… have I been too obvious?' Clark thought nervously.
Ken, however, seemed satisfied enough with his deductions. He waved his radio-like apparatus lazily around Clark and Lala, then sighed in disappointment. "Well, regardless, I must continue my search. Sorry to have disturbed you."
He bowed politely, deeply and formally, before straightening up.
"Uh—sure. No problem," Clark replied automatically, stepping aside to let him pass. Internally, he was practically collapsing in relief. 'Thank God he's leaving. He was genuinely starting to make me nervous.'
Once Ken disappeared down the street, Clark finally removed his hand from Lala's mouth.
For a moment, they just stared at each other in silence.
Lala puffed out her cheeks, clearly holding back something—whether laughter or another outburst. Clark's own lips twitched as the absurdity of the encounter fully sank in.
Then, almost at the same time, they both burst out laughing, the tension dissolving as quickly as it had formed, leaving only disbelief at the strange, sudden encounter they had just survived.
Meanwhile, Ken Takakura took another turn down the sidewalk, his full attention fixed on the fluctuating readings displayed on his handheld device. He adjusted a knob with practiced focus, muttering quietly to himself as he analyzed the data.
Unfortunately, that focus came at the cost of actually watching where he was going.
"—Oof!"
"Urgh!"
The collision was sudden and forceful, sending both of them tumbling to the ground in an awkward heap of limbs and dropped belongings. Ken's gadgets scattered across the pavement with a chorus of metallic clinks, while the girl he had bumped into landed hard on her backside.
"Watch where you're going, you dweeb!" Momo Ayase snapped as she pushed herself up, rubbing her sore bottom with an irritated scowl.
"S-sorry…" Ken muttered timidly. He scrambled to his knees, hurriedly gathering up his equipment with shaking hands, clearly more focused on escaping the situation than defending himself. Once everything was clutched safely to his chest, he attempted to shuffle past her and walk away.
"Hold it, dork."
Before he could take more than two steps, Momo grabbed the back of his collar, stopping him cold.
"I—I'll give you all my money!" Ken yelped, flinching violently as he dug into his pockets. He produced a small handful of yen notes and thrust them toward her with trembling hands. "H-here! Take it!"
"I'm not extorting you, you dumbass!" Momo shouted, staring at him like she couldn't believe what she was seeing.
"…You're not?" Ken asked hesitantly, peeking up at her as he pushed his glasses back into place. "Seriously?"
"Obviously not," she huffed. "I just wanted to know what you were talking about with those two over there."
She jerked her thumb in the direction Clark and Lala had gone, their figures already shrinking in the distance.
Ken blinked. "Why?" he asked, genuinely curious.
"Because it's none of your business, idiot," Momo replied instantly, crossing her arms with a scoff.
"Stop calling me names!" Ken protested, finally finding his voice. "My name isn't dweeb, dork, dumbass, or any other variant! It's K—"
"I don't care, oh my god," Momo groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. "Listen, glasses. My brother is out on a date with a close friend of mine, and I need to make sure it's going well. So yeah—I was curious."
"Ah… I see," Ken muttered, nodding slowly.
Before he could add anything else, Momo suddenly grabbed his wrist and started dragging him along at a brisk pace.
"Ahh—hey! Where are you taking me?!" Ken cried, nearly tripping as he struggled to keep up.
"I'm going to lose them if I just stand around," Momo said sharply. "You can talk while we follow them!"
As she marched forward, her eyes flicked toward the strange device in Ken's hands. Without hesitation, she reached out and snatched it.
"Give me those."
"Hey! Those are mine!" Ken protested, desperately trying to grab them back.
"I'll give them back, don't be such a baby," Momo said dismissively as she slipped the headphones on. She fiddled with the controls, tilting her head slightly. "I'm trying to see if I can use these to listen in on what they're saying and spy on them."
"You're a terrible person," Ken said flatly, his honest opinion slipping out before he could stop himself.
"You'll get over it," Momo replied dryly. She continued adjusting the device before glancing at him sideways. "Well? Go on. Start talking. What were you two talking about?"
Ken hesitated, shoulders slumping. "It… wasn't much," he muttered shyly. "It was just about Superman."
Momo froze mid-step.
Slowly, she turned to face him, blinking once… then twice.
Ken finished explaining, rambling awkwardly as he recounted his deductions and theories. By the time he was done, Momo stared at him for a split second longer—then suddenly burst out laughing.
"Hahaha—oh my god!" she cackled, clutching her stomach.
"It—it wasn't that funny…" Ken muttered, his face heating up as he assumed she was mocking him.
Momo shook her head, laughter spilling out in breathless bursts as she tried—and failed—to calm herself.
"No, no," she said between laughs. "It's just—wow. You're something else, glasses."
Ken stood there, flustered and confused, while Momo continued laughing, completely unable to contain herself.
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