Catalyst

“LEFT! RIGHT! UPPERCUT! LEFT JAB! GRAPPLE FROM THE TOP!”

Shion’s voice rang out like a boxing coach on a caffeine bender. And me? I was the poor bastard in the ring doing whatever the hell she said.

The only reason I hadn’t been knocked into next week yet was because I was following her commands like my life depended on it—which, spoiler alert, it probably did.

Jin was pissed.

Every time I ducked, weaved, sidestepped, or slipped his swings, his rage ticked up another level. Dude looked like he was gonna combust from sheer humiliation.

“Chokehold grab!” Shion yelled again.

When Jin lunged at my neck like a goddamn Komodo dragon, I dropped low and went for a leg sweep. You ever played Shadow Fight 2? That old mobile game where a well-timed sweep sends the opponent stumbling? Yeah. I tried that.

Let me just say—real life ain’t like that.

My shin connected with his leg and the only person that got hurt was me. I winced, pain shooting up my calf like a lightning bolt. Still, I must’ve hit a nerve, ‘cause Jin stumbled a bit, testing his footing.

Then he locked eyes with Shion.

“What the actual fuck?” he spat, chest heaving. “How did you know what moves I was gonna do?”

Took him long enough.

I glanced around—everyone was staring. Even Ms. Hoshino and Kenta had paused their 1v1 showdown. Shock painted across every face in the room.

“MIKA—LEFT SIDE, KENTA!” Shion shouted.

I turned just in time to see Kenta charging at me with a punch that looked like it had been delivered straight from hell’s gym.

I dodged, barely, but before I could recover—

“JIN! FRONT!”

Too late.

I turned just in time to see Jin’s fist heading straight for my face.

And it was glowing.

Sparking.

What the—

BOOM.

His knuckles connected, and I went airborne—again. That’s twice in one day. I crashed into a row of desks, flipped over one, and slammed into the wall with a meaty crack before darkness swallowed everything.

When I came to, Shion was slapping my cheek gently, panic in her voice.

“Mika—Mika, hey, come on…”

I blinked. My skull felt like it had been used as a practice drum for a heavy metal band.

“How long?” I croaked.

“Minute or two,” she whispered.

I turned my head and saw Riku kneeling beside me.

“Bro…” he said, eyes wide. “That was insane. You flew like five desks.”

“Well, thanks for the flight log,” I muttered, dragging myself upright. “I was wondering how I ended up on the other side of the class.”

He gave a weak chuckle.

The room was different now. Split.

Groups had formed. Sides.

Kenta, Jin, Reina, Aya, Mei, and Yui were huddled in one corner, whispering amongst themselves. Meanwhile, Ms. Hoshino was chewing out Jin so hard he might as well have been her final exam.

“You don’t just hit someone and send them flying across the room, Jin,” she snapped. “He could’ve died.”

Jin just shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe the guy’s made of toothpicks.”

“You think that was normal?” she hissed. “A punch doesn’t cause that. It’s a miracle he’s even conscious.”

She wasn’t wrong. My ribs felt like they’d been kneaded by a concrete mixer.

And then someone else spoke. Quiet. Level.

Sho.

Everyone turned.

He stood near the back of the room, arms folded, voice calm but cutting through the silence like a scalpel.

“Did anyone else notice?” he said. “Before the hit. Jin’s fist—it was glowing. And sparking. Right before it made contact.”

The room froze.

Eyes turned to Jin.

His cocky expression flickered. Just for a second.

The silence was deafening.

Because suddenly—suddenly—it wasn’t just about monsters outside the school.

Something was happening to us too.

Sora stepped forward, voice calm but somehow louder than I’d ever heard it.
“I’m not sure if everyone else saw it,” he said, “but I definitely did. Your knuckles crackled with some kind of static current right before you sent Mikaela flying.”

I blinked at him. Honestly, I was half-expecting the room to explode again, but the mood stayed… tense, sure—but quieter than before. Like everyone was afraid to breathe.

Then, of course, Jin had to open his mouth.

“Hah? The fuck? The mute can speak?” He barked out a hollow laugh. “I thought you were some kind of special ed case who never talks. And what the hell are you babbling about—sparks on my hands?”

Sora tilted his head, expression dead flat. He was pacing slowly while he spoke, drifting in a loose circle around Jin and Kenta.

“Come on,” he sighed. “I know your whole shtick is maxing out brawn and leaving brains to starve, but even you should realize your punch alone couldn’t have launched Mikaela like that.”

Jin’s eye twitched. “What the fuck did you just say?”

“I said what you heard, dumbass.” Sora didn’t even flinch. “And like I was saying—while Mika was dodging your wild swings, the sparks kept getting brighter. They built up until you finally hit him. That’s not normal. None of this is normal. Our whiteboard turned into a TV. Shion predicted your every move. Mika bashed a monster’s head in. You really think we’re still in the realm of ‘coincidence?’”

I gaped. This was the same Sora I’d assumed was too shy to order food in public? Where the hell had this version been hiding?

But before anyone else could speak, Jin let out this unhinged laugh—dry and mean.

“So what—you’re saying we all have superpowers now? Because you tripped out and saw a few sparks, you think we’re in some comic book?” He gestured at me with his thumb. “That has to be the single dumbest conclusion I’ve ever heard.”

And damn it, he was starting to sway them. Heads were nodding. Eyes were darting away from Sora.

No. No, no, no. We couldn’t afford to pretend this wasn’t happening. I tried to push myself to my feet to back him up, but Sora shot a hand in front of me—still moving, always moving.

He didn’t even look at me. Just gave a tiny nod, like let me handle this.

So I sat back and watched.

Sora turned slowly in his orbit, making sure he could see everyone.

“Alright,” he said, voice low. “So let me get this straight. Mika bashes the head in of something that almost chewed Jin’s face off, Shion predicts every punch in real time, the whiteboard becomes a magic TV—and you all think it’s business as usual?”

Silence.

“Based on everything I’ve seen,” Sora continued, “I think all of us have something—a Spec. Not all the same, but… abilities. And they probably line up with who we are inside.”

He pointed at Shion without stopping his slow pacing.

“Shion is the smartest person in the class. She can process faster, predict patterns—so her Spec lets her see glimpses of what’s about to happen.”

He shifted his gaze to Jin.

“And you? You’re more muscle than thought. So I’d bet yours is kinetic. The more you repeat a movement, the more energy you build.”

Jin’s lip curled. “That’s bullshit. She just got lucky—”

“Shut the fuck up and listen.” My voice cracked across the room like a whip. “For once in your life, Jin, just listen.”

Everyone went still. Even Jin closed his mouth.

Sora kept going, steps never stopping.

“If he did squats,” he said calmly, “the stored energy would be in his legs. Punches? His arms. The more he repeats it, the more power it collects. Which is why your final hit sent Mika flying.”

The room stayed silent this time.

No protests. No laughter.

Just the sound of everyone trying to process the new reality.

I risked a look at Jin. He wasn’t meeting anyone’s eyes. Staring down, fists flexing and unflexing. Like he was trying to decide who to hit next.

Then, almost too quiet to hear, he growled, “I fucking hate smartasses.”

And before anyone could react, he lunged at Sora, left arm cocked back.

The same arm he’d already charged.

Shion sucked in a breath to scream a warning—but she didn’t have to.

Because Sora wasn’t standing where he’d been.

He was in front of Jin, mid-motion, knee already rising.

And then—impact.

Knee to face.

Jin’s body folded like a dropped puppet, and he hit the ground clutching his nose, blood leaking through his fingers.

Sora landed on both feet, breathing a little harder, but perfectly calm.

“In case you were wondering why I kept walking while I talked,” he said, voice flat, “my Spec makes me faster the longer I stay in motion.”

Nobody spoke.

Nobody moved.

And for the first time all day, I smiled.