The Girl with the Red Hair

After one year of intense training and complete isolation, Hayamoto Kaminari had disappeared from the public eye. His classmates and neighbors wondered what had become of the boy they once knew. Now, exactly one year later, he was preparing to return to school.

Standing in front of the mirror, Kaminari adjusted his tie carefully. "Mhmm," he murmured thoughtfully. "Alright… this is me now, huh? The training definitely changed me a bit." He examined his reflection with satisfaction, noting his increased height—finally hitting six feet—and the muscles he'd developed. As he slipped on his shoes, he grinned, noticing that even his acne had cleared up. "AAA! AAH!" he tested his voice, deeper and more resonant. "I like this!"

Heading out toward school, Kaminari glanced upward, deep in thought. "I should probably hide the fact that I've changed—and everything involving Shakazuki," he mused quietly, pulling down his sleeves to cover his muscular forearms.

Lost in thought, Kaminari collided with someone turning from an intersecting street. "Ah!" A girl stumbled back, quickly bowing her head apologetically. "Sorry, sir! I'm very sorry!"

"No, no, it’s my fault," Kaminari said gently, recovering quickly. He noticed her striking red hair, soft features, and the uniform identical to his own. "Oh, you attend my school? I haven't seen you before."

The girl kept her head low as she picked up a fallen book. "Yes, I'm a newcomer and looking forward to stud—" Her voice trailed off as she finally lifted her gaze to meet Kaminari's. Instantly blushing, she covered her mouth with her hand, flustered by his handsome face, deep voice, and kind eyes. (His deep voice… his height… Why does he feel like a main character?!)

Kaminari tilted his head curiously. "Oi, why are you covering your face?"

"I-I'm not!" she squeaked, turning bright red and looking away.

"Weird," Kaminari thought aloud. "Maybe she’s cold? Anyway, can I know your name?"

"Oh! It’s Sumire. Nice to meet you," she replied softly.

"I'm Kaminari," he responded warmly. "Nice to meet you too."

(A name that means thunder? It fits him perfectly!) Sumire thought shyly.

Walking toward school together, a sudden gust of wind blew Sumire’s hair into Kaminari’s face. "Gah—your hair! It’s in my mouth!"

"S-Sorry!" she stammered, hastily pulling her hair away.

After a brief pause, Kaminari grinned playfully. "It smells nice."

Sumire's brain froze momentarily. Trying to regain composure, she asked timidly, "Kaminari-kun, how long have you studied here?"

"It’s my second year," Kaminari began, then paused, scratching his head awkwardly. "Ehh… actually, not really."

Sumire blinked, confused. "First year? But didn’t you just say you've been here before?"

Kaminari laughed sheepishly, sweating slightly. "Ahahaha! For some reason… they didn’t promote me."

As they approached the school gate, an unwelcome voice cut through the air. "Hoo! Long time no see, Kami-ya fool!"

Kaminari’s expression darkened immediately. "Tch. Let's get away from here."

"Huh? Who’s she?" Arata smirked jealously. "Your girlfriend?" He burst into arrogant laughter.

"It doesn't matter who she is, Arata," Kaminari shot back sharply, stepping protectively in front of Sumire, who nervously edged behind him.

"Ohhh! Got some ego after a year, huh? Forgot our special treatment already? OYE RENJI!" Arata called out smugly.

Renji approached with a menacing smile, a flame flickering from his fingertip. "Looks like someone wants to get burnt to a crisp."

Kaminari’s eyes hardened, fists tightening as memories flooded back—the image of Renji burning his mother's last keepsake vivid in his mind. (These two again. Nothing’s changed—still roaming like father and son. I won’t let them run wild now.)

Within him, the Devil King's voice resonated. “Oi, try showing off again and I’ll be dragging your soul down with me. Seven days, remember?”

Kaminari hesitated. (Right, the contract.) He whispered confidently, "Don't worry. After all, they're just normal people."

Renji sneered, "Huh? Whispering? Calling for help? Not even God can help you now."

In an instant, Kaminari struck Renji's solar plexus, withdrawing so swiftly it seemed he'd never moved. Renji began confidently, "Now see—" but stopped abruptly, clutching his chest before collapsing to the ground, gasping.

"What happened? Renji!" Arata shouted, panicking. "You fool, get up!"

Renji, wheezing, reached weakly upward. "S-Sir… I see… the light…"

Arata shook him angrily. "That's the school lamp, idiot! Damn it! Kaminari, you got lucky today!" He grabbed Renji and dragged him into the school.

(Fools,) Kaminari thought, watching them go. (I can't risk my power yet.)

"Thank you for saving me," Sumire said softly.

"Saving you?" Kaminari asked, surprised.

"Yes, they were harassing me yesterday," Sumire explained quietly.

"I didn't do anything special. Forget those fools—let's head to class."

"Yes," Sumire replied, smiling gently.

Six pleasant periods passed uneventfully until gym class.

"Alright, Kaminari, squeeze this gripper once for your internal marks," instructed the gym teacher.

Kaminari nodded casually, gripping the device without much thought. Instantly, it shattered with a loud SNAP, buttons popping violently from his shirt, flying so fast they slammed into the wall across the room. A loud, cracking noise echoed as the buttons embedded themselves, breaking off small pieces of the wall. Silence fell heavily over the room as Kaminari froze, embarrassment washing over his face.

At that moment, a chilling realization hit him—the contract he had sworn to uphold strictly forbade revealing his strength. Now, having clearly violated that agreement, he could only brace himself for whatever terrifying consequences awaited him.

"Oh crap!"

—To be continued