UNMATCHED
Chapter 1: The Boy Who Couldn't
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The rooftop was the only place where the city noise faded to something almost like silence.
Tadashi Kuro sat with his back against the railing, knees drawn up, hood pulled low. Below him, Tokyo burned with neon and motion—trains rumbling, crowds surging, lives continuing in patterns he could observe but never quite join.
Three years since his super gene manifested.
Three years of sparks that went nowhere. Of headaches that split his skull when he concentrated too hard. Of doctors who frowned at scans and used words like "atypical" and "unprecedented" and "we'll run more tests."
Three years of being different without knowing why.
His phone buzzed. He ignored it.
It buzzed again. Then a third time.
Tadashi pulled it from his pocket. The screen glowed with a message from an unknown sender:
"Tadashi Kuro, your presence is requested at the Academy for Humans with Super Genes. Enrollment is immediate. Transportation will arrive at your location in approximately ten minutes. Do not be late."
He stared at the words. Read them twice. Three times.
"Delete," he muttered.
His thumb hovered over the screen.
Didn't press.
Behind him, the air shifted. A low hum. He turned—
A vehicle hovered at rooftop level. Sleek. Black. No windows. No markings.
A door slid open.
No one inside. Just darkness.
Tadashi looked at his phone. Looked at the vehicle. Looked down at the city that had never quite known what to do with him.
"Stupid," he whispered.
He stepped inside.
The door closed. The vehicle lifted. Tokyo shrank beneath him.
He didn't look back.
---
The Academy materialized through clouds like something from a dream.
Impossible architecture—towers that bent at angles that shouldn't hold, buildings connected by bridges made of light, training fields carved into floating platforms. Students moved between them: some walking, some flying, some phasing through solid walls.
The vehicle set down at a massive gate. No guards. No signs. Just iron bars and mist.
Tadashi stepped out. The vehicle vanished behind him.
"Welcome to the madhouse," someone muttered.
He turned. A student with spiky blond hair leaned against the gate, cards dancing between his fingers.
Sanji: "First year?"
Tadashi: "Is it that obvious?"
Sanji: (Grinning.) "You've got the look. 'Where am I? What is this? Did I make a terrible mistake?'"
Tadashi: "That obvious."
Sanji: "Don't worry. Everyone gets it." (Tossed a card. It became a tiny hawk, flapped twice, vanished.) "I'm Sanji Tokimaru. Card battler, chaos manager, and apparently your welcome committee."
Tadashi: "Tadashi Kuro."
Sanji: "Good name. Strong name. Now follow me before you get lost. New kids wander into restricted zones constantly. Last week someone ended up in the principal's private quarters."
Tadashi: "What happened to them?"
Sanji: (Still grinning.) "No one knows. They're not talking about it. Probably fine. Mostly fine. Let's go."
---
The Academy swallowed them.
Corridors stretched impossibly long. Staircases led to places that shouldn't exist. Students passed with powers flickering—flames, ice, floating objects, bodies that flickered between solid and mist.
Sanji: "Dorms are arranged by power type. Elemental over there. Physical enhancement that way. Magic users in the east wing."
Tadashi: "Where do they put people whose powers don't work?"
Sanji: (Glanced at him.) "Yours doesn't work?"
Tadashi: "It sparks sometimes. Then stops. Then I get headaches."
Sanji: "Huh. That's actually interesting."
Tadashi: "Interesting means useless here."
Sanji: "Bro. No. Interesting means nobody knows what to expect from you. That's an advantage." (Tossed another card. A flame flickered, died.) "My first week, I couldn't make anything last longer than two seconds. Now I've got a whole deck."
Tadashi: "How long did that take?"
Sanji: "Three months. Four. Time moves weird here."
They stopped at a door. Number 130.
Sanji: "Home sweet home."
He pushed it open.
Chaos.
Cards floated everywhere. A small drone—clearly homemade—zipped around the ceiling, narrowly avoiding piles of books. Clothes hung from lamp fixtures. Some kind of glowing diagram covered one wall.
Sanji: "Ignore the mess. It's organized chaos."
Tadashi: "This is organized?"
Sanji: (Grinning.) "No. But it sounds better than 'complete disaster.'"
He flopped onto a bed. Tadashi stood in the doorway, taking it in.
Sanji: "You gonna stand there all day or come in?"
Tadashi stepped inside.
The door closed behind him.
---
Morning came fast.
Tadashi hadn't slept. His brain refused to shut off—cataloging sounds, calculating distances, tracking the way Sanji's cards drifted lazily above his sleeping form.
Sanji: (Eyes opening.) "You're still in one piece. Good sign."
Tadashi: "Didn't sleep."
Sanji: "First night jitters. Normal." (Sat up.) "Today's assassination class. You'll love it."
Tadashi: "Assassination class."
Sanji: "Core curriculum. Don't die, pass."
Tadashi: "Those are the same thing."
Sanji: "Exactly."
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The assassination hall was massive. Obstacle courses layered on top of each other. Blades swinging. Traps hidden. Students moving through like predators.
Tadashi stood at the edge, heart pounding.
Professor Mira Hanabi: (Appeared beside him.) "First time?"
Tadashi: (Jumped.) "Yes. Professor."
Mira: "Good. Fear sharpens the senses." (Gestured.) "Survive to the other side. That's your only goal."
Tadashi: "Survive."
Mira: "Today, yes. Tomorrow we add speed. Next week we add enemies." (Tilted her head.) "Questions?"
Tadashi: "Dozens. None you'll answer."
Mira: (Almost smiled.) "You learn fast."
She vanished.
Then he saw her.
A girl with brown hair tied in a braid. Moving through the course like water—fluid, inevitable. Traps triggered where she'd already been. Blades swung where she'd already left. Her presence was calm. Untouchable.
Tadashi: (Quiet.) "Who is that?"
Sanji: (Appearing beside him.) "Zera Sanjiro. Dorm 99. S-rank. Sixteen. Untouchable in every sense." (Nudged him.) "She notices everything. Including you, apparently."
Tadashi looked. Zera had finished the course. She stood at the far end, not breathing hard. For one second, her eyes found his.
Then she looked away.
Tadashi: "She looked at me."
Sanji: "She looks at everyone."
Tadashi: "No. That was different."
Sanji: (Studied him.) "Bro. You've been here one day and already the S-rank noticed you. That's either really good or really bad."
Tadashi: "Which one?"
Sanji: (Grinning.) "Yes."
---
That night, Tadashi sat on the roof of Dorm 130. The Academy sprawled below him—lights, movement, lives continuing in patterns he couldn't yet read.
His hands sparked. Faint. Brief.
Tadashi: (To himself.) "What am I supposed to do here?"
The air hummed.
He looked up.
A drone hovered at the edge of the rooftop. Black. Sleek. Smaller than Academy tech. Its red light pulsed once. Twice.
Then it vanished.
Tadashi stared at empty sky.
"Probably nothing," he whispered.
He didn't believe it.
Neither should you.
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END OF CHAPTER 1