C-Team: From Here To The Multiverse

"Haru Tadashima…"

"…Here."

The lesson moved on quickly as time blurred.

Haru Tadashima sat in the back row — out of sight, out of mind. That was his unspoken motto. How he got through each school day: one sluggish hour at a time, grinding forward until—

The bell rang.

"Thank the Lord," he muttered, exhaling as he stretched out his arm with a yawn.

"I was literally two seconds away from falling asleep."

He rose from his seat with the least amount of energy he could possibly exude. Lazy? Maybe. Apathetic? Definitely.

At just about average height for a guy his age, Haru had recently turned eighteen and was now coasting through his final year of high school. 

He never bought into the hype around school traditions.

People kept saying these were supposed to be the best years of his life — which, to him, just meant a lot of people had miserable futures.

Haru had a look that could only be called "exotic" — darker skin from his mother's side, classic Japanese features from his father's. He had a decent build: not jacked, not fat, not skinny. Just… healthy enough to tell he didn't let himself go.

His face was hard to pin down — handsome, cute, unusual, or just plain odd depending on who was looking.

He wore glasses that didn't flatter his face, especially not with his sharp looking dark brown eyes. 

His hair, though, was on point — short, black, a natural mix of curls and straight strands. Faded at the sides, combed neatly on top. You could tell he actually took care of it.

He bowed with the rest of the class, but his mind was already out the door. One more minute in that room and he swore his skull would crack open.

He headed out to grab his bag.

The whispers were already floating around him.

NEET.

Otaku.

Loner.

Nerd.

Weird.

Outcast.

Basically: You don't belong here.

And honestly?

He didn't. And he damn well knew it. And he certainly didn't have a problem with it.

"Time to leave before a teacher ropes me into a disciplinary talk," he muttered, sliding his earbuds in with finesse.

The noise, the labels, the fake smiles — all of it faded into the background; but that didn't mean the background wasn't still visible.

To his right were lovey-dovey couples holding hands and frolicking like the world didn't exist — except for each other, of course.

To his left were cliques of classmates grouped up, laughing and recapping their oh-so-important school lives.

Haru didn't have any of that.

Did he care?

Yeah.

Of course he did.

But he had much bigger fish to fry.

And unfortunately, catching smaller fish required mastering a particular skill set — a skill set he didn't exactly have yet.

Music continued to fill his ears as he walked through his oh-so-normal town in solitude, letting his inner world take over.

It didn't take long before he arrived at his oh-so-normal house.

He shoved the key in, sighed like an old man, and muttered, 'Home sweet home.'

Already, his shoulders relaxed as he took his first step inside. He slipped off his shoes, feet landing on the all-too-familiar floorboards.

"Ughhhhh…"

That sweet feeling of home; comfort, familiarity, and quiet acceptance washed over him like a warm breeze.

A place where he could simply exist without having to explain himself.

He placed a hand on his chest and looked up, ready to pray to what appeared to be the ceiling.

"Thank You, Lord, for another glorious day. Although boring — and frankly speaking, uneventful — I'll stay satisfied that I awoke once again in this life."

"You should."

Haru turned to the sound of an oh-so familiar, cocky voice.

"Uncle Leo?!"

Leaning on a large shelf was Haru's non-blood related uncle: Leonidas — tall, handsome, and annoyingly photogenic.

The ideal of a woman's dream, and he knew it.

He had the body of a Greek god: not too lean, not too bulky, perfectly aesthetic. Warm, tanned skin. Short black hair, perfectly cut to frame his face.

Piercing hazel eyes that somehow made you feel both seen and judged. A sharp jawline that looked like it had been sculpted from marble and a stubble beard just thick enough to keep him from looking too young or too old.

He wore a crisp white shirt tucked into perfectly pressed black trousers. As if he'd just walked out of the cover of some high-end men's magazine.

Which contrasted beautifully with Haru — a walking billboard for "high school exhaustion," in his wrinkled uniform and unbothered posture.

"How's it been, kid?"

"How did you even get in here? I just had the locks changed."

"A silly question, and one clearly not worth asking, my dear nephew."

Haru rolled his eyes as Leonidas extended a hand. He lazily shook it — only to be pulled into a full-on hug.

A real one.

A warm one.

"Long time no see, nephew."

Haru tried to suppress his smile, but the sincerity in that voice cracked through.

"Long time no see, Uncle. Missed you…"

"Missed you too, kid."

They held each other just a little longer.

"Meow."

A sleek black cat slinked between them, interrupting their hug with its usual dramatic flair.

"Are you humans finally finished with your sentimental and futile misallocations of time?"

"Yes, yes," Leonidas replied to the cat's flat, emotionless voice.

"You know," Haru said, smirking as he looked down, "are you sure you're not jealous, Azrael?"

"Why would I be jealous of such valueless actions?" Azrael replied, cool and composed as always.

He was no normal cat — far from it. But he was family.

Haru crouched and started stroking him. Azrael twitched. Resisted.

"No.

Stop it.

I said no.

Do you not care about my consent—

Uhhh…"

Azrael's whines of protest slowly melted into helpless purring, the sound of a proud creature losing yet another battle.

Leonidas just smiled, watching from a distance as his nephew lovingly bullied a talking cat into submission.

"So… you been doing your training?"

"Yep."

"Good. What about school…?"

"..."

Haru paused. He let out a breath — long and tired — before slowly turning around like someone being rotated on puppet strings.

Azrael watched, unimpressed, and casually licked his paw.

"…Okay. Sorta."

"What he means is that he's barely attending."

"Azrael!!!"

The cat ignored him.

Leonidas looked at Haru and sighed — not out of disappointment, but a kind of seasoned acceptance. He rubbed his temple in mock frustration.

"So why aren't you going to school, Haru?"

"There's just…" Haru frowned. "What's the best way to put this? There's just no point."

Leonidas raised a brow.

"What I'm saying is…" Haru hesitated, then pushed forward. 

"We all know I'm not supposed to be there anyway. I'm supposed to be more than that. Slaving through lessons I'll forget in a few years, wasting hours just to be another cog in the system.

What's the point of showing up to a place I don't care about, surrounded by people who don't care about me?

The teachers just want a paycheck.

My classmates don't get me.

Nobody does. Ya know?"

Leonidas took a deep breath, exhaling as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Azrael sat still. Haru waited.

"You really are just like your mom," Leonidas said softly. "You talk like her too."

He placed a hand on Haru's shoulder.

"I'm not your dad, kid. But I am an adult who cares about you. I'm not gonna handhold you — you're smart enough to make your own calls.

And it's clear you've already chosen your path."

Haru gave a small nod.

"I think it's time you commit to it, then. You're eighteen now.

And since I missed your birthday…" He smirked. "I've gotta make it up to you somehow, huh?"

"Could you get to the point already?" Azrael muttered.

Leonidas ignored him.

But Haru could feel it — something was coming. His heartbeat quickened. Was this it? Was this finally it?

Was his dream about to come true?

Leonidas looked at him directly.

"Do you want to follow me and your parents' path?

Do you want to become an Arknight, kid?"