Kazuki awoke with a start, his heart pounding as if he'd just run a marathon. For a moment, he didn't know where he was. The air smelled different—sweet and wild, nothing like the stale, recycled air of his old apartment. He blinked up at a canopy of silver-green leaves, sunlight filtering through in golden shafts. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and looked around.
The forest was breathtaking. Flowers in colors he'd never seen bloomed at his feet, and the trees seemed to glow. But the beauty only made him feel more out of place. He flexed his fingers, trying to shake off the numbness from his arrival. A strange tingling ran up his arms, settling in his wrists. He frowned. It felt like static, but softer, almost alive.
He looked down at his hands—smaller, smoother, with none of the rough patches or calluses he remembered. His arms felt lighter, his skin clear and unblemished. He ran his fingers through his hair—thicker, wilder, with no sign of thinning. He touched his face, and his cheeks felt smooth, his jawline sharper but somehow softer. He guessed he must look like a teenager now, maybe sixteen or seventeen, but there was no mirror or anyone to tell him for sure.
He stood, testing his balance. His body felt strange and new, as if he'd been given a second chance not just at life, but at youth itself. He wondered if this was all part of Luminara's gift.
He raised his arm and flexed his wrist. A stream of cold, fizzy liquid shot out, splashing onto a nearby rock.
Kazuki gaped. "Fepsi? Really?" He touched the spot where the liquid had landed. It was sticky and smelled faintly of caramel and citrus, with a sharp, almost chemical edge. He flexed his wrist again. Another stream shot out, splashing onto a patch of grass. The grass where the liquid landed began to wilt slightly, the edges curling and darkening. Kazuki noticed it but didn't think much of it. "I'm in a magical world, and my superpower is shooting Fepsi from my wrists. That's just… ridiculous."
But his amusement faded as he remembered where he was. This wasn't Tokyo. This wasn't his world. He was alone, with no idea how to get home, or if he even wanted to. The thought made his chest ache. He missed his bed, his computer, the familiar hum of the city. He missed the comfort of knowing what to expect, even if it was just another lonely night.
He started walking, his sneakers crunching on the forest floor. The world was alive with sound—birdsong, the rustle of leaves, the distant rush of a river. But beneath it all, there was something else. A feeling, like eyes watching him from the shadows. He shivered, pulling his hoodie tighter around himself.
He flexed his wrist again, testing his power. Each time, the tingling in his arms grew a little stronger. He didn't know why, but it felt important.
"Okay," he muttered to himself. "So, I can shoot Fepsi. That's… something. But what else can I do?"
He kept walking, his mind racing. He needed to figure out how this power worked. He needed to understand it.
Then he heard it—a low, guttural sound, like a growl twisted with a whisper.
Kazuki froze. He turned slowly, scanning the trees. At first, he saw nothing. Then, from the shadows, a creature emerged.
It was unlike anything he'd ever imagined. Six spindly, jointed legs, each tipped with razor claws. A body covered in iridescent scales that shifted color with every movement—blue, green, purple, silver. Its head was long and narrow, filled with needle-thin teeth and two sets of glowing, slit-pupiled eyes.
Translucent wings, like stained glass, shimmered on its back.
Before he could react, the monster launched itself into the air with a powerful beat of its wings. The rush of wind sent leaves swirling as it rose above the treetops, circling Kazuki with eerie precision.
Kazuki turned and bolted, his heart pounding. He could hear the monster's wings buzzing behind him, its shadow flickering across the forest floor. He dodged between trees, hoping to lose it, but the creature was relentless. It swooped low, its wings humming, claws outstretched.
The trees thinned ahead. Kazuki skidded to a stop at the edge of a rocky cliff, pebbles skittering over the side. He spun around just as the monster landed on a nearby boulder, wings folding with a metallic rustle. It eyed him, its eyes glowing with predatory hunger.
Kazuki's mind raced. He was trapped. The monster reared back, its body tensing. With a sudden motion, it opened its mouth wide, and a thin, glowing filament shot out—a whip-like tendril of crackling energy aimed straight at Kazuki's chest.
Kazuki barely had time to react. He squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his hands together as tightly as he could. He imagined the monster's attack being blocked by a wall of foam, its wings glued together, its body burning with pain.
With his hands clenched, he felt the tingling in his wrists explode. A stream of fizzy Fepsi shot out, splashing across the monster's face and the crackling tendril. The creature screeched as the Fepsi bubbled and sizzled on its skin, sending up wisps of steam. The liquid burned, and the monster's wings stuck together, just a little. It clawed at its face, its movements clumsy and panicked.
Kazuki opened his eyes. The monster reeled, its eyes watering, its body twitching as it tried to shake off the strange, fizzy assault. For a moment, it seemed to hesitate—then, with a final, angry hiss, it turned and launched itself into the air, vanishing into the forest.
Kazuki collapsed to his knees, gasping for air. His hands shook, and his head throbbed from the effort. He looked at his wrists, where the last traces of Fepsi fizzed and faded. "I did it," he whispered. "I actually did it."
He sat there for a long time, catching his breath, his body still buzzing with that strange sensation. He thought about what had just happened—how his imagination had shaped the Fepsi's effect, how it had burned and confused the monster. He realized, with a mix of excitement and fear, that his ability was more than just a joke. It was real. And it was dangerous.
But he also knew he was still weak. His imagination had only partially worked. The monster had been hurt, but not defeated. And he was drained, his nerves still tingling from whatever had just happened.
Kazuki stood up, shaky but determined. He looked around at the unfamiliar forest, at the cliff behind him, at the path ahead. "I have to get stronger," he said aloud. "I have to learn how to control this."
He started walking, following the sound of the river. The forest was alive with strange sounds—chirps, rustles, the occasional distant roar. He kept his guard up, flexing his wrists every now and then, testing the tingling. It was always there, waiting.
As he walked, he noticed the way the light played through the trees, casting shifting patterns on the ground. He saw flowers that changed color as he passed, and insects with wings like stained glass. Everything was new, and everything was beautiful. But he couldn't shake the feeling that he was out of place—an intruder in a world that didn't quite want him.
He stopped by a small stream, kneeling to splash water on his face. The coolness was a relief, washing away the sweat and fear. He looked at his reflection in the water—a face he barely recognized. His features were sharp but still soft with youth, his eyes bright and curious. His hair was thick and unruly, and his skin smooth, untouched by age or worry. He looked like a teenager—sixteen, maybe seventeen. He really had become younger. The realization made his heart skip a beat.
He touched his cheek, watching his reflection do the same. He smiled, and the boy in the water smiled back. It was him. He was young again—given a second chance by Luminara, the Goddess of Second Chances.
He flexed his wrist, shooting a stream of Fepsi into the stream. The liquid fizzed and swirled, mixing with the water. He watched it disappear. "Is this all I'm good for? Making a mess?"
But then he remembered the monster. He remembered the way the Fepsi had burned and confused it. He wondered if he could do more.
He found a small clearing and sat down, cross-legged. He closed his eyes and focused on the tingling in his wrists. "Okay," he muttered. "Let's see what I can do."
He imagined a ball of light forming in his palm. He flexed his wrist. Nothing happened. He tried again, imagining harder. Still nothing.
He frowned. "Maybe it only works with Fepsi." He imagined a stream of Fepsi shooting out, and flexed his wrist. The liquid shot out, splashing onto the grass. He tried imagining the Fepsi forming a circle in the air. He flexed his wrist. The stream arced, but it didn't form a circle. It just splashed, like always.
He sighed. "Maybe my imagination isn't strong enough. Or maybe I'm missing something."
He stood up and walked over to a large rock. He imagined the Fepsi blasting the rock apart. He flexed his wrist. The Fepsi splashed against the rock, sizzling and bubbling. The rock was unharmed, but the grass around it withered slightly.
He tried again, imagining a small explosion. He flexed his wrist. The Fepsi splashed, and this time, the rock cracked a little. Not much, but enough to notice.
Kazuki's eyes widened. "It's working. My imagination is shaping the effect." He tried one more time, imagining a huge explosion. He flexed his wrist. The Fepsi splashed, and the rock cracked a bit more, but it was still mostly intact.
He sat down, thinking. He remembered the monster—how his imagination had only partially worked. He realized that his power was limited. It wasn't all or nothing. It was a fraction of what he imagined.
He didn't know what that fraction was, and honestly, it didn't matter right now. What mattered was that it could get stronger. He could feel it—the more he used his power, the more that tingling built up inside him.
He tried a few more experiments—burning leaves, cracking rocks, scorching sticks. Each time, he got a little more control, a little more effect. But as the sun dipped low, a deep weariness settled over him. His head ached from the effort, and his wrists buzzed with a dull, persistent tingling.
He slumped against a tree, rubbing his temples. "That's enough for today," he muttered, his voice hoarse from hours of self-directed monologues. "I need to rest."
He looked around at the darkening forest. The shadows stretched long, and the air grew cooler. He needed shelter for the night.
With his last reserves of energy, Kazuki trudged forward, scanning the terrain for any sign of refuge. As twilight deepened, he spotted the mouth of a small cave nestled at the base of a rocky outcrop. Moss and ferns draped its entrance, and the interior seemed dry and sheltered from the wind.
He hesitated for a moment, peering into the dim interior. "Better than sleeping out in the open," he reasoned.
Kazuki gathered a few dry branches and leaves before venturing inside. He arranged them near the entrance, just enough to keep the chill at bay, and sat down with his back against the cave wall. The quiet hum of the forest outside was soothing, and the earthy scent of damp stone filled his senses.
Exhaustion weighed on him, but a sense of accomplishment lingered. He had survived, he had learned, and he had found a safe place to rest. As he curled up, listening to the distant calls of nocturnal creatures, he allowed himself a small smile.
"Tomorrow," he whispered, "I'll figure out more."
With that, Kazuki closed his eyes, letting the fatigue claim him as the last light faded from the world outside.