**Narration begins…**
The rain falls in soft, relentless sheets over Tokyo, a city that never sleeps. Neon lights flicker through the haze, casting jagged reflections on wet pavement. At the heart of this restless sprawl stands Tokyo Metropolitan Apex Academy, a fortress of glass and steel where Japan’s brightest minds are forged. It’s here, among the elite, that one name rises above the rest: Rei Tsukumo.
Picture him now—seventeen years old, lean and sharp-edged, like a blade honed too fine. His hair is jet-black, slightly tousled, falling just over eyes that seem to pierce through whatever they settle on. He moves through the crowded halls of Apex with a quiet grace, hands in his pockets, uniform pristine yet worn with a casual air. Students part for him like water around a stone, their whispers trailing in his wake. “The Prodigy,” they call him. “The unbeatable one.” And they’re not wrong.
Rei’s genius isn’t loud or ostentatious—it’s a force of nature, subtle until it strikes. In a classroom lined with chalkboards, he sits alone at the back, pencil tapping idly as the teacher drones on about quantum mechanics. The problem on the board is a nightmare, a tangle of equations meant to stump even Apex’s best. The others scribble furiously, brows furrowed, sweat beading. Rei? He glances at it once, then leans back, eyes half-lidded. Five minutes later, he strolls to the front, drops his paper on the desk, and walks out. The teacher stares, stunned—it’s perfect, solved in a fraction of the time. No one knows how he does it. They assume it’s just *him*—raw, untouchable intellect.
Out on the courtyard, it’s the same story. A shogi match unfolds under the cherry blossoms, petals drifting like pink snow. His opponent, a third-year with a reputation for ruthless strategy, smirks as he sets his pieces. Rei doesn’t flinch. Move after move, he counters with precision, his face a mask of calm. The crowd holds its breath as the third-year falters, then slams his fist down, conceding. “How?” the loser spits, but Rei only shrugs, standing to leave. “You left yourself open,” he says simply. No one sees the flicker in his gaze, the way his hand twitches briefly as he turns away. To them, it’s just talent—pure, inexplicable talent.
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But Rei Tsukumo wasn’t always this figure of awe. His story begins three years ago, in a moment that broke him before it built him.
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The scene shifts, the narration pulling us back in time. The rain grows heavier, the city fading into a memory of a quiet road on Tokyo’s outskirts. Rei is fourteen, smaller, softer, his face still carrying the innocence of youth. He sits in the backseat of a modest sedan, his father at the wheel, his mother humming softly beside him. They’re a family—ordinary, warm, unremarkable save for Rei’s budding brilliance. He’s chattering about a math puzzle he solved that day, his voice bright with pride. His father chuckles, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. “You’ll outsmart us all one day, Rei.” His mother smiles, reaching back to ruffle his hair. “He already has.”
Then it happens.
The road curves, headlights flare through the dark. An oncoming truck—too fast, too reckless—swerves into their lane. Rei’s father curses, yanks the wheel. The car spins, tires screehing, and the world explodes into chaos. Metal crunches, glass shatters, and Rei’s scream cuts off as the car slams into a ditch. Darkness swallows them.
When he comes to his senses , the rain is cold on his face, seeping through the wreckage. His arm stings, sliced by glass, but he’s alive. He blinks, dazed, and sees his father first—slumped over the wheel, neck twisted at an impossible angle, eyes blank. Dead. A sob catches in Rei’s throat, but then he feels it—weight pressing down on him, warm and still. His mother.
She’s draped over him, her body a shield against the crumpled roof. Blood mats her hair, drips onto his cheek, but her arms are locked around him, unyielding even in death. Her face is close, pale, her lips parted as if to speak. “Live… Rei…” The words are a whisper, a plea, her last breath spent on him. The roof groans, inches from his head—she took the blow that would’ve crushed him. Her sacrifice saved him.
Rescuers find him like that, cradled in her arms, the only survivor pulled from the wreck. They call it a miracle. Rei doesn’t speak for days after, his eyes hollow, his mind replaying that moment—the crash, the blood, her voice. He’s sent to live with a distant aunt, a quiet woman who doesn’t ask questions. School becomes his refuge, his intellect a lifeline. By fifteen, he’s at Apex Academy, a prodigy reborn from ashes. The boy who loved puzzles is gone; in his place is a young man who doesn’t just solve problems—he conquers them.
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**End of Chapter 1.**
