[Third Person's PoV]
The following morning, Clark descended the stairs from his room, his school bag slung over one shoulder. He looked fresh and ready for the day, though a faint trace of sleep still lingered in his eyes. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he spotted both Lala and Momo standing near the doorway, waiting for him with bright smiles and energetic morning chatter.
"Let's get going," Momo said cheerfully after the trio exchanged their usual warm goodbyes with Seiko, who reminded them to stay safe and pay attention in class.
"I thought we were waiting for Clark?" Lala asked, glancing around the hallway and even peeking back toward the staircase as if expecting him to appear at any moment.
Momo blinked, then slowly turned her head to stare at Lala with a look that could only be described as a mixture of disbelief and concern. "What are you talking about, Lala? Clark is literally standing right in front of you."
Clark let out a deep sigh, the kind that came from the depths of someone who had dealt with this kind of situation more than once. He adjusted his glasses and waited, watching Lala's confused expression as she continued to scan the hallway, completely oblivious to his presence.
"Where?" Lala asked innocently, her brows furrowed in genuine puzzlement.
Momo looked back at Clark, her own expression now mirroring Lala's confusion. "Is she being serious right now?"
"I'm afraid so…" Clark muttered under his breath, resigning himself to the absurdity of the moment.
"Lala… Clark is right here," Momo said, stepping closer and patting Clark firmly on the shoulder for emphasis.
Lala laughed lightly, shaking her head. "Don't be silly, Momo. Clark doesn't wear glasses. I think I'd recognize him if he were standing right in front of me—glasses or not."
Momo blinked again, then slowly turned toward Clark. "Why can't she recognize you when you're wearing glasses? Isn't this a bit… extreme?"
Clark shrugged helplessly, his tone dry. "How am I supposed to know? Maybe she's defective."
Just then, Sol's voice chimed in over Clark's earpiece with a slightly amused tone. "Wait, do you seriously not know why she can't recognize you, Master Kal-El?"
Clark furrowed his brows, whispering discreetly, "Wait… there's actually a reason for this? And it's not just because she stupid?"
"What? Of course there's a reason. Your glasses are embedded with tech designed to obscure your identity from most people. It's a visual masking field. Ms. Seiko and Ms. Momo are exceptions because their recognition settings have been manually adjusted."
A faint shimmer flickered over Clark's lenses as Sol pulled up a digital display right in his field of vision. The interface showed three profile icons: Seiko and Momo each had green checkmarks beside their images, while Lala had a glaring red 'X'.
Clark stood there for a moment, lips pressed together in silent embarrassment. Without saying a word, he reached out and tapped Lala's icon, changing the 'X' into a green checkmark.
As soon as the change was made, Lala's eyes widened. She blinked, her expression shifting instantly as if something had just clicked in her brain. "Oh! Morning, Clark! When did you get here?" she greeted brightly, her tone now filled with familiarity. "Nice glasses, by the way! They look really good on you!"
Clark didn't respond immediately. Internally, his mind was screaming. 'Oh my actual god… All this time it was my fault. And I've been calling her an idiot…'
He nodded slowly, a tight-lipped smile forming as he awkwardly accepted her compliment. 'I owe her an apology,' he thought as the three of them finally began walking toward school.
---
Once they reached the school grounds, Clark waved and gave a polite "Good morning" to Komi, who had just arrived. Momo and Lala also greeted her warmly. Komi, overwhelmed but visibly radiant, blushed slightly under the attention. She seemed especially delighted to walk to class alongside all of them, clearly enjoying the social connection.
---
Later, when the lunch period rolled around, Clark found himself stepping out of his classroom just as another scene unfolded.
Haruna, the ever-dedicated class president, appeared before Lala, arms crossed in front of her in a formal posture. She introduced herself with a bow before speaking with cool professionalism.
"As class president, it was my responsibility to give you a proper tour of the school yesterday," she stated, her voice calm but clearly tinged with mild frustration. "However, you disappeared before I had the chance."
"Oh! But I went on a tour with Momo and Komi instead," Lala replied with a cheerful smile, completely unaware of Haruna's tone.
Haruna blinked once, regaining her composure. "I see. Did you happen to explore the clubs and all the facilities the school offers?"
"Uhh… nope," Lala said casually with a shrug.
The class president let out a small, barely audible sigh. "Alright then," she said, shifting gears quickly. "Why don't I continue the tour now so you're properly familiarized?"
But Clark wasn't paying attention to the conversation anymore. As the two girls spoke, he quietly slipped away from the classroom, his mind already on his next destination. He made his way down the hall, headed for the vending machine around the corner.
After buying a canned iced coffee, he walked up the stairs to the rooftop, pushing open the door to reveal a familiar sight.
There, learning against the metal railing, was none other than Lois Lane.
"Here," Clark said, tossing a cold can toward Lois with a casual flick of his wrist.
Lois yelped slightly, fumbling with the can before catching it just in time. She looked down at the label, raising an eyebrow. "What's this?"
"I don't like owing anyone anything," Clark replied flatly. "Even if it's something as simple as lunch. So, with that, I hope we're even."
Lois blinked, visibly surprised by his serious tone. Then, unexpectedly, she burst into a fit of giggles, her shoulders shaking slightly.
"You know," she said between laughs, "you might come off like a total jerk with zero redeeming qualities—"
"That is just uncalled for," Clark muttered, half-offended.
"—But you're surprisingly honest, Clark," she finished, cracking open the can with a pop and taking a sip. "Refreshing… both the drink and the sentiment. Still, you could have repaid me more effectively by joining my club."
Before Clark could even think of a reply, his expression changed. His body tensed slightly, and his head snapped toward the east, eyes narrowing sharply.
Lois noticed. "Clark? What's wrong?"
He didn't respond immediately. Instead, he extended his vision far beyond what the human eye could perceive. His telescopic sight pierced through the skyline, racing past rooftops, bridges, and towering buildings until it locked onto Tokyo Tower. Standing at the very peak—at the thin metal spire—was a familiar figure.
Zastin.
He stood motionless, his arms folded across his chest, eyes closed, long hair and deep purple cape fluttering in the wind like a flag. His presence was calm, yet radiated power—an intentional signal.
'It's an invitation… he wants to talk,' Clark deduced.
"Clark?" Lois asked again, concerned now. "Is something going on?"
Clark quickly snapped out of his trance. "No, no—just remembered something. Actually, why don't you go find Lala? She's new here. I'm sure you could convince her to join your bookclub."
"Journalism club," Lois corrected sharply, clearly unimpressed. "And I know you know that."
Still, her demeanor softened. A mischievous spark lit up in her eyes as she smiled. "But good thinking. She should be an easy recruit."
With that, she practically sprinted off the rooftop, energized by the thought of growing her club.
As soon as the door clicked shut behind her, Clark exhaled and looked back toward the tower in the distance. His expression grew serious. He reached up, grabbed the collar of his shirt, and with a dramatic rip, tore it open down the middle.
His Kryptonian sigil shimmered into view, the red and yellow "S" forming cleanly across his chest as his suit materialized, encasing his body in sleek armor-like fabric.
"..."
"Kal-El…" Sol's voice buzzed in his ear. "What was that? That was completely unnecessary."
Clark's cheeks colored ever so slightly. "Shut up. I've always wanted to do that at least once. We will not speak of this again"
He hovered off the ground as a gust of wind swirled around him, then took off in a sonic boom—red and white streaks trailing behind him like lightning.
---
Just moments later, the rooftop door swung open again.
"But that doesn't mean I'm going to stop trying to recruit—" Lois started to say as she stepped outside, only to halt mid-sentence.
"…Clark?"
The rooftop was empty.
She looked around, confusion on her face. The wind was still.
"Hmph," she muttered, turning on her heel. "Where could he have gone?"
---
Far away, atop Tokyo Tower, Zastin's eyes fluttered open as a thunderous boom echoed in the sky. A sharp gust of wind slammed against him a moment later. When he looked forward, Superman was floating just inches away, arms crossed, cape billowing dramatically behind him.
His eyes were intense.
"I see you recovered quickly," Clark noted, scanning Zastin up and down. The alien warrior looked fully healed—no trace of their previous battle remained.
Zastin smirked, his aura gently withdrawing back into his body. "And I see you got my message."
"You were holding back during our fight," Clark said with a frown.
"I had my reasons," Zastin replied smoothly, "But I didn't call you here for a rematch. Someone else wishes to speak with you."
Before Clark could ask who, Zastin reached into a compartment in his armor and pulled out a strange-looking device. It hovered from his palm, spinning slowly in the air. A pulse of energy surged from it, and then, a deep, commanding voice echoed between them.
"Greetings, Last Son of Krypton."
Clark's eyes widened slightly at the sound.
"Or would you prefer I call you Superman?" the voice continued. "Either way, I am certain you've already guessed my identity. I am Lala's father. The ruler… and king of your known universe."
Clark blinked slowly.
'Oh for crying out loud…' he thought with a deep, exhausted sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.
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