Morning sunlight slipped through the curtains of the Kinohutsu household, settling warmly across the polished wooden floors. Steam curled upward from the kitchen stove where Hana Kinohutsu moved gracefully, her apron tied neatly around her waist. The scent of miso soup, grilled fish, and freshly prepared tamagoyaki filled the air. Birds outside chirped in a lazy early-morning rhythm, matching the peaceful atmosphere inside the home.
Hana placed the last dish on the table and exhaled softly.
"Alright… breakfast is ready," she murmured, more to herself than anyone.
She wiped her hands on the apron and called out toward the living room, "Honey, wake up Rien."
Keijo, slumped over the couch with the spirit of a man who lost a wrestling match against his alarm clock, groaned.
"Hana… just five more seconds…"
Hana raised an eyebrow. "Keijo. Don't make me do it myself."
Those words alone were enough to send him upright. He staggered toward the hallway with the posture of a man walking willingly into his doom.
"I'm going… I'm going…"
He pushed open Rien's door dramatically — more dramatic than necessary — and clapped his hands together with the subtlety of a thunderclap.
"HEY! RIEN! Rise and shine! Today's your big day!"
From the bed, a pair of calm eyes opened slowly… not in surprise, but like someone who had predicted everything happening around him long before it occurred.
"Good morning, Dad," Rien said in a level voice — neither tired nor energetic, simply… steady.
Keijo blinked.
"You… you weren't even awake a second ago, and somehow you sound like you already drank coffee. How?"
Rien didn't bother answering. He sat upright with slow, deliberate movements — movements too controlled for a sixteen-year-old. Hana peeked inside, a smile already forming when she saw him awake.
"That's our son," she said. "Always composed, no matter the hour."
Rien shifted to the edge of the bed and stood, his expression unchanging. Keijo puffed out his chest.
"Today's your first day at Cosmic School! Aren't you even a little excited?"
Rien picked up his bag.
Silence.
He walked towards the door.
"Hey! Don't just walk away when I'm trying to be dramatic — I'm your father!"
Rien paused for a single heartbeat, turning his head just enough for his eyes to meet Keijo's.
"Yes, Dad. I know."
Then he continued walking.
Keijo deflated instantly, collapsing into a nearby chair.
"One day… this boy will be the reason I develop blood pressure."
Hana chuckled softly as she returned to the kitchen.
"You'll survive."
Breakfast — Calm Before the Cosmos
Rien sat down at the dining table, posture perfectly straight, expression perfectly neutral. Hana placed a plate before him with gentle care.
"Eat properly, okay?" she said.
Rien nodded once and began eating, quiet and precise.
Keijo sat opposite him, trying — and failing — to maintain a stern fatherly stance.
"Listen, Rien…" he began, clearing his throat, "your powers are… well… insane. If you lose focus even a little… you might end up blowing up the school or—"
Rien lifted his gaze only slightly.
"Why would I blow up the school?"
The sheer deadpan in that single sentence made Hana burst into laughter, covering her mouth politely.
"That's my boy. Just behave normally today, alright? No chaos."
Rien set his chopsticks down after finishing the last bite and stood with unwavering calm.
"I am going."
Hana hurried up to him, fixing his collar like a mother who still saw her son as a child despite his unnerving composure.
"Be safe… and try to make friends today."
Keijo leaned forward.
"And don't teleport away when I'm still talking to you, young ma—"
Pop.
Rien vanished in a soundless ripple, leaving only the faint distortion of bent space behind.
Keijo stared at the empty spot for a long moment, shoulders slumped.
"I… hate when he does that…"
Hana patted his shoulder kindly.
"You'll manage."
The Road to Cosmic School
Rien reappeared on a quiet sidewalk, boots touching the pavement without sound. The city around him buzzed faintly — cars humming, people chatting, the distant rumble of morning traffic.
Ahead, a crowd had formed, jammed into a chaotic cluster.
Rien tilted his head slightly.
Ah. Normal Tokyo…
He bypassed them effortlessly by teleporting into an empty patch of road several meters ahead.
Tokyo's special district — where Cosmic School was located — was far from ordinary. As Rien stepped onto the school grounds, the air shimmered with vibrant, unstable energy. Students hurled fireballs in the air, levitated themselves with swirling green wind, or accidentally discharged lightning bolts that scorched nearby walls. Teachers scolded them. Students ignored them.
A boy sprinted toward Rien at full speed — or more accurately, sprinted toward his face.
Rien's body blurred for a fraction of a second.
He vanished.
Reappeared behind the boy.
And gently grabbed the back of his collar before gravity could finish its work, placing him upright again.
The boy froze, eyes wide.
"Wh— what just happened…?"
Students nearby stared, whispering.
"Did he teleport holding someone!?"
"Who is this guy…?"
"Is he a new instructor?"
The boy turned around, swallowing nervously.
"Sir… what's your name…?"
"Rien."
"Rien…? I'm Kuto Haraki! Fourth-year! Are you new?"
"Yes. Take me to Class 4B."
Kuto blinked once. Twice. His brain struggled to reboot.
"Y-Yes! Right this way!"
Class 4B — Cosmic Energy Basics
The classroom buzzed with chatter as students took their seats. Cosmic energy flickered across fingertips, desks levitated an inch or two off the ground before teachers yelled at them, and the entire room felt like a ticking bomb.
Rien placed his bag neatly beside his chair.
"When does class begin?"
"In ten minutes," Kuto said.
Fifteen minutes later — because teachers were never on time — class finally started.
The instructor strode inside, holding a tiny glowing creature hovering above her palm. It flickered like a living flame molded into the shape of a fox.
"This," she announced, "is a Cosmic Energy Beast. Formed by compressing CE to—"
Her voice faded into background noise for Rien.
He spun a pencil between his fingers.
The CE beast looked… fragile. Almost breakable.
"Rien," the teacher called suddenly, her voice cutting through the murmurs of the classroom. "Come demonstrate."
Rien stood with the calmness of someone walking to shut off a light switch. Students leaned forward as he examined the tiny creature.
Then—
Snap.
A deafening hum filled the room as a massive CE beast materialized beside the teacher — towering, muscular, radiating cosmic pressure so intense loose papers flew into the air. Desks trembled. Some students grabbed onto their seats in panic.
The teacher choked on her own breath.
"Th-That's… you enlarged it by a factor of—"
Rien didn't bother to answer.
"Now…" the teacher whispered, voice shaky, "please… remove it…"
Rien lifted one hand.
The beast dissolved.
Not exploded.
Not disintegrated.
Dissolved, like it had never existed to begin with.
Only a faint shimmer in the air remained.
"You may sit," the teacher said faintly.
Kuto leaned in, whispering with trembling hands,
"He's not a student… he's a walking apocalypse…"
Rien returned to his seat, expression unchanged.
Evening —
When the school day ended, Rien walked through the district streets with the same serene presence. He stopped in front of a small bakery, warm light glowing from within.
"One packet of chocolate cookies," he said softly.
The shop girl bowed apologetically.
"I'm really sorry… the shops are closing early. A Cosmic Beast appeared nearby."
Rien glanced outside.
Empty streets.
Quiet buildings.
Still air.
"…I see."
"Evacuation protocol," she explained quickly. "CE users are handling it."
She locked the door and hurried away.
Moments later, the ground shook.
A massive ape-like CE beast leapt into view, its roar splitting the air. CE agents rushed in — weapons drawn, battle stance firm.
"It's too strong!"
"Reinforce the barrier!"
"Fall back— FALL BACK!"
Rien watched silently as the beast sliced down the captain in a single brutal strike.
The street fell into terrified silence.
Rien took one step forward, shadows bending around him as if the world itself bowed subtly in response.
"…You're delaying my cookies," he said.
With a slight lift of his hand—
Absolute Null.
A silent, devouring darkness spread outward.
Time stilled.
Wind froze mid-gust.
The beast's roar died in its throat.
Its eyes widened.
"Wh-what are y—"
Snap.
Absolute Eraser.
The creature vanished.
No explosion.
No death.
No remains.
No aftershock.
Just… erased.
Existence rewritten.
Rien lowered his hand and casually reversed time by five minutes. The street returned to normal. Shops reopened. People resumed conversations they didn't know had been paused.
He entered the bakery again.
"One packet of chocolate cookies," he repeated.
This time, the girl smiled brightly and handed him the pack.
"Here you go!"
Rien stepped outside, biting into one.
The world carried on… blissfully unaware of how close it had come to losing everything.
Because the boy who walked among them quietly erased the threat without ever raising his voice.
Because he was Rien.
Because nothing in existence — past, present, or yet to be born — could stand equal to him.