Morning arrived slowly over Manila, the first light of the sun stretching across rooftops and narrow streets as the city began to stir from its quiet slumber. The sky carried a soft golden hue, and the faint sound of birds echoed from the trees, blending with distant engines and early footsteps from people starting their day.
Inside the Nozomi household, however, the morning had already taken shape long before the rest of the neighborhood awakened.
Kosoku stood in the backyard, barefoot against the cool earth, wearing a loose training shirt and shorts. His silver hair remained slightly disheveled from sleep, strands falling across his forehead as he rolled his shoulders and stretched his arms overhead.
The air was still cool, but his body already felt warm.
Across from him stood Gabriel Nozomi, his arms folded his eyes was sharp he was watching Kosoku.
There was no need for a whistle, no signal, no countdown. The moment Gabriel fixed his gaze on him, training had already begun.
"Ten," Gabriel said calmly.
Kosoku blinked.
"...That's it? No good morning?"
Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "You're awake. That's enough."
Kosoku exhaled through his nose and dropped to the ground.
"One... two... three..."
Each push-up felt heavier than the last. His arms trembled slightly, not from weakness, but from the lingering fatigue of yesterday's training. His breathing slowly deepened as he forced his body to continue.
"...eight... nine... ten."
He dropped flat onto his back and stared at the sky. "I think I died."
"Sit-ups."
Kosoku turned his head slowly. "You didn't even give me time to resurrect."
Gabriel remained unmoved. Kosoku sighed, sat up, and continued.
By the time the curl-ups finished, his breathing had grown uneven, his chest rising and falling faster than before.
Gabriel walked toward the gate and opened it. "Jog."
Kosoku stared at him. "...I knew it."
"Ten minutes."
Kosoku dragged himself forward, stepping out into the quiet street.
The neighborhood still felt half-asleep. A man walked his dog across the street. A tricycle passed in the distance. The world moved slowly, but Kosoku didn't have that luxury.
One lap, then another and then another.
By the time he returned, sweat clung to his skin and his shirt stuck lightly to his back. His breathing came heavier now, but steady.
Gabriel nodded once. "Enough."
Kosoku leaned against the fence. "Now can I eat before I collapse?"
Gabriel smirked. "Go on."
Kosoku didn't wait. He ran inside. "Finally!"
The kitchen greeted him with warmth and the smell hit first.
Garlic fried rice, eggs, fried bangus and—
Kosoku's eyes immediately locked onto the center of the table.
"Adobo."
He sat down instantly, already reaching for a spoon. Alisa turned toward him with a soft smile.
"Eatwell."
Kosoku didn't answer right away. He grabbed the chili jar first.
Gabriel stepped inside behind him. "Siling labuyo again?"
Kosoku nodded proudly as he mixed it into the sauce. "Yeah."
Gabriel let out a quiet chuckle. "You really love spicy."
Kosoku laughed.
"HAHAHA, it makes me feel alive"
He ate quickly, almost mechanically—rice, adobo, rice again, like his body already knew it needed to recover.
Alisa watched him. "You eat like someone preparing for war."
Kosoku swallowed. "Dad said protein helps recovery."
Gabriel nodded. "That's correct."
"And carbs."
Alisa laughed softly. "You really do listen."
Kosoku pointed at Gabriel. "He says it every day."
For a brief moment, everything felt normal.
It was quiet, warm and safe. Then—
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
The sound cut cleanly through the house,
Kosoku stopped mid-bite.
"...Visitors?"
Alisa frowned slightly. "We weren't expecting anyone."
Gabriel was already moving the he opened the door. Two men stood outside they wore dark suits, sharp posture and silver insignia. The Philippine Warrior Association.
"Good morning, Mr. Nozomi," the taller man said.
Gabriel leaned slightly against the frame.
"What do you want?"
"We'd like to speak with you."
"About?"
"...Your son."
Silence settled, Kosoku felt it immediately and Alisa stood up. Gabriel studied them for a second longer before stepping aside.
"Alright, come in."
The backyard felt different now, heavier and
quieter.
Kosoku stood at the center of the training circle, aware of every movement around him. The two officers watched him carefully, their eyes sharp in a different way than his father's—less instinct, more calculation.
"Whenever you're ready," one of them said.
Kosoku raised his right hand, he focused and the lightning answered. It gathered along his fingers—
Crack.
Crack
Crack
The bolt struck the metal rod cleanly. A controlled release, precise and stable.
Silence followed.
"...Clean output," one murmured.
"...No fluctuation," the other added.
Kosoku scratched his cheek. "Was that okay?"
The taller man smiled slightly. "That was more than okay."
They asked a few questions, they observed how he stood, how he breathed and how he reacted.
They weren't just watching his power, they were studying him. Then after that they left.
After a while, the yard returned to silence then Kosoku looked at his hand, a small spark appeared—
Then disappeared, it was completely hidden.
Gabriel noticed it.
"Very good, Kosoku."
Kosoku smiled. "Mom taught me."
Alisa gently touched his head. "Don't get overconfident."
Kosoku laughed softly but far from the house—Inside a moving vehicle—The mood was entirely different. A tablet glowed in the dim interior. Then the footage played, Lightning element Ccntrol then suppression.
Perfect.
"...Play that again," Leon said quietly.
Leon Ramirez, Director of the Philippines Warrior Association Luzon Headquarters.
Daniel Reyes, Inspector the one who noticed Kosoku and Leon's right hand.
Daniel replayed it frame by frame, the moment the lightning vanished.
"...Pause."
The screen froze and Daniel leaned closer.
"..He didn't just stop it."
Leon's eyes narrowed. "He concealed it."
Silence filled the car.
"At five years old?" Daniel muttered.
Leon leaned back slowly. "..That's not early talent." Another pause. "That's trained behavior."
Daniel frowned. "But Gabriel wouldn't teach suppression this early…"
Leon didn't answer but his gaze remained fixed on the screen.
"...Or maybe..."
"....the child learned it himself."
That thought lingered longer than either of them expected.
Daniel finally spoke. "...What do we report?"
Leon locked the tablet. "...Everything, she will love this."
The car continued moving through the city.
"And after that?"
Leon looked out the window, expression unreadable. "I'll decide."
A brief silence followed. Then—
"But this changes things."
Daniel glanced at him. "How?"
Leon's voice lowered. "..If a child like that exists…"
"...then the balance we've been monitoring..."
"...might already be shifting."
The car passed through an intersection, disappearing into traffic.
Inside the quiet Nozomi household—Kosoku stood in the backyard, staring at his hand. A faint spark appeared again. But this time he didn't release it, he didn't suppress it either but he held it just for a second and in that brief moment—the lightning didn't behave like before. It twisted and compressed, trying to take shape.
Kosoku's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Again."
The spark vanished but the feeling remained.
And far away beyond cities, beyond nations
something unseen shifted. Not awakened, not yet but aware. As if something had noticed—that the boy who should have been ordinary was beginning to remember.