TD

Three years before, {y/n} was twelve years old, sitting quietly in the playground dirt.  Across from them, a group of kids was loudly mocking a boy, their harsh laughter echoing off the plastic slides. Then, the air shifted.  A sharp spark of violet lightning ignited right under the boy's shoe.  It was a tiny, fleeting arc of pure energy.  Nobody else noticed, but {y/n} did.  In that exact microsecond, an intense, electric shock surged straight through {y/n}’s chest, making them gasp.  But they thought nothing of it. They were only twelve, already turning bright red and looking down to avoid the confrontation. Anxious and flustered by the loud voices, they focused entirely on patting down their sandcastle, convincing themselves the sudden, painful twist in their chest was just a nervous stomach ache.  Now, {y/n} is fifteen, a quiet nerd who survives by blending into the background. They are the type to pull their oversized sweater over their hands, blushing furiously anytime a teacher calls on them or someone looks their way for too long.  Sitting in the back row of History class, desperately trying to shrink into their seat and hide behind a massive textbook, a sudden, blinding heat flared behind their eyes. Then, everything went pitch black.  They blacked out.  When they woke up, they were lying on a stiff, sterile hospital bed, the sharp smell of antiseptic burning their nose. Everything felt disorienting and entirely wrong.  A glowing digital sign on the wall read “Kyūkyū Gairai.”  They were in Japan.  Before they could even begin to panic about how far they were from home, the heavy door swung open.  Five intimidating men in tailored black suits and dark sunglasses stepped inside, their low, urgent murmurs immediately cutting the silence.  {y/n} shrank back into the pillows, their face instantly burning with a mix of terror and intense embarrassment as five pairs of eyes locked onto them.  “You need to come with us,” one commanded, his voice cli