Chapter 3: The Viral Hero and the Yellow Sentinel’s Challenge

The internet exploded.

Ever since the mysterious “Black Sentai” appeared on camera punching a monster into a minivan, timelines across every platform had become a battleground of speculation.

“WHO is behind the mask!?”
“Find him and you’ll get fifty million yen!”
“Forget the money—I just want to see his face!”
“If he’s cuter than the old Red, I’m changing fandoms!”

Hashtags dominated every ranking:

#FindTheBlackSentai
#UnmaskHimChallenge
#NewHeroSearchParty

People formed groups online and offline to hunt him down.
Some out of curiosity.
Some out of obsession.
Some out of greed.

Saiga Noburu read these posts while lying on his couch.

He chuckled weakly.

“Wonderful… Now everyone wants to unmask me.”

But the truth beneath that laugh was cold:

My identity is in danger.

He tossed his phone aside, put on running shoes, a jogging shirt, and slid his headset around his neck. Fresh morning air greeted him as he stepped out of his apartment.

He jogged through the city, the cool air brushing his face.
Everywhere he passed—

People talked about the Black Sentai.

“He was so cool!”
“Did you see his kick!?”
“I swear if I see him I’m taking a selfie!”

Noburu exhaled sharply.

Better to pretend he didn’t hear.

Natsumi Kanzaki sat in her new workspace, the lights dim, her expression focused.

On her tablet, the viral footage played again.

She slowed the frames.
Tracked footwork.
Measured impact force.
Observed micro-expressions unseen by casual viewers.

Then she smiled—soft, sharp, certain.

“So it really is you… Noburu Saiga.”

She tapped the screen once more.

“A man without an Astral Core… yet somehow wearing that armor.”

Her eyes glimmered with interest.

“Very intriguing.”

A few hours later, Noburu slowed near a small park.

And he saw it.

Three boys cornering another child—Souta—the same boy crying the day before.

The bullies grabbed rotten tomatoes and laughed.

“No one’s coming to save you!”
“Even Red is dead! Stop pretending your hero will return!”

Souta clenched his fists.

“Shut up! Someone will come! I know it!”

The bullies howled with laughter.

“Look! He still believes in fairy tales!”
“Let’s throw another one!”

One boy swung his arm back—

Noburu’s hand stopped it mid-air.

The boys flinched.

“H-Hey! Why is some adult interfering!?”

Noburu’s tone was quiet, calm.

“Bullying is illegal. I can report you.”

They scoffed.

“Ugh! Adults ruin everything!”

The bullies ran off.

Noburu crouched beside Souta.

“Hey, kid. You alright?”

Souta wiped his eyes without looking at him.

“Leave me alone… They’re right.”

“Right about what?”

Souta’s voice trembled.

“Red is gone. No one like him will ever come again.”

Noburu sat beside him, the cool morning breeze brushing their faces.

“Did you like him?” he asked gently.

Souta nodded weakly.

“Yeah… Red always won. I thought the world would be okay if he was here.”

His voice cracked.

“…But now I’m just a kid who gets hit.”
“No one came.”

Noburu stared at the ground.

“I used to think the same.”
“That strong people always arrive on time.”
“But sometimes… they’re late.”

The words sank into the boy like rain.

“And if they’re late… what’s the point of hoping?”

Noburu smiled gently.

“Hope isn’t about who comes.”
“It’s about who keeps standing… even when no one sees them.”

Souta’s breath shook.

“I’m weak.”

“No.”

Noburu opened his palm toward him.

“You’re still here.”

He placed a steady hand on Souta’s shoulder.

“If today you can only stand for a moment… that’s enough.”
“Don’t get strong to stop others from hurting you.”
“Get strong so their words can’t hurt you anymore.”

Tears spilled from Souta’s eyes.

“If Red could see me now… would he be mad if I gave up?”

Noburu’s chest tightened.

“He’d be more upset… if you stopped living.”

A faint smile broke through Souta’s sadness.

A soft voice came from behind them.

“Beautifully said.”

Noburu stiffened.

Standing there was a tall young woman with long silver hair tied in a ponytail, wearing a modified lab coat reinforced like lightweight armor.

Her presence was sharp—too sharp.

Souta gasped.

“W-Whoa…! A-Are you a Sentai!?”

Noburu whispered urgently,

“I’ll explain later—”

The woman stepped closer, her eyes never leaving Noburu.

“My name is Natsumi Kanzaki.”

Then she pointed directly at him.

“And I’m very interested in your transformation yesterday… Saiga-kun.”

Noburu froze.

“…How do you know my name?”

Natsumi raised a sleek device from her belt.

A Sentai Device.

Souta’s jaw dropped.

“You’re really a Sentai!?”

Natsumi’s smile deepened.

“Saiga-kun, would you consider joining a new Sentai team with me?”

The air tightened around them.

Noburu swallowed.

He knew immediately this was dangerous.

“…And if I refuse?”

Natsumi’s eyes glinted.

Too pleasantly.

“Then I’ll simply test you.”

She pushed the activation switch.

CLICK.

Yellow light erupted like jagged lightning.

A synthesized voice roared:

“HEY! HEY!”
“ARE YOU READY!?”

She slid the throttle forward.

“I am ready.”

“Sentai Change!”

“ASTRAL DRIVE — YELLOW IGNITION!”

A column of golden light spiraled upward.
Geometric rings spun beneath her feet, glowing intensely.
Sparks burst outward like dancing bolts.

Armor formed:

Leg plates locked with metallic snaps.
Razor-sleek gauntlets materialized with pulses of light.
Chest armor sealed tight, emblazoned with the glowing Yellow Sentinel emblem.

And finally—

SHHH—KLAK!

The helmet appeared, visor shining blue-gold.

Yellow energy crackled around her like a living storm.

Yellow Sentinel — Natsumi Kanzaki stood before them.

She pointed at Noburu again.

“Now then… fight me.”

Her voice cut the air like a blade.

“Anyone who refuses to fight is unworthy of being called a Sentai.”