[Third Person's PoV]
Clark sighed heavily as he sat up at the edge of his bed, rubbing a hand across his face and groaning in frustration. The morning sunlight filtered weakly through the blinds, casting soft lines across the wooden floor. From his cozy spot near the foot of the bed, Krypto—his ever-loyal companion—lifted his head and tilted it curiously, ears perked as he sensed his master's mood.
Clark glanced over at the white dog, managing a faint smile as he reached out to scratch behind Krypto's ear. "It's nothing," he muttered, "just irritated that I have to start high school today."
His tone was light, but there was an unmistakable edge of dread behind the words. Krypto responded with a low whine, nudging Clark's hand for more affection.
Standing up, Clark stretched, his muscles flexing beneath his skin in the morning light. His physique, honed by exercise, genetics, and the influence of Earth's yellow sun, was toned and powerful—he didn't have to try to look strong, he simply was. A loud yawn escaped him, followed by the exaggerated smack of his lips. Then, in a blink, he was gone—a blur of motion as he zipped around the room with supernatural speed. The bedroom door opened and shut in a heartbeat, and he vanished down the hallway into the bathroom.
Despite the fantastical portrayals in movies and TV shows, even Clark Kent couldn't speed through everything. The water in the shower still obeyed the laws of nature, cascading at its usual pace over his skin. So he took his time, letting the warmth sink into his muscles.
Once finished, he returned to his room with a towel wrapped securely around his waist, steam rising from his damp hair. In another flash of motion, he was dressed—a white shirt, a beige cardigan vest, and a smart blue jacket layered over it, and of course, his signature messy hair and thick, black-framed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. The disguise was simple, yet oddly effective.
Krypto lay sprawled on the bed, head resting on his paws, eyes lazily tracking his master as he moved about. The dog gave a soft woof before springing off the bed and following Clark down the stairs in synchronized steps.
The two arrived at the breakfast table where Seiko and Momo were already seated. Seiko was plating up breakfast with her usual calm efficiency, while Momo still appeared to be sleepy as she glanced at Clark with a raised eyebrow.
"I'll never understand how you seriously believe a pair of glasses and some messy hair are enough to keep people from figuring out who you are," Momo scoffed, her tone laced with dry amusement.
Clark didn't miss a beat. "I'm not too worried. You'd probably distract everyone with your hideous face anyway."
Momo's eye twitched in response. "Do you want to die young, or are you just naturally annoying?"
Seiko, used to their banter, simply sighed and placed plates in front of them. "Isn't it a bit early for the two of you to be at each other's throats?" she asked, setting a bowl of food down for Krypto, who began eating happily.
Despite the bickering, there was a warmth in the air—an easy, familiar rhythm between them all. The sound of utensils on plates, the scent of fresh food, and the occasional bark from Krypto made for a cozy, pleasant start to the day.
Soon enough, breakfast was finished and the morning bustle resumed. Clark crouched by the front door, his backpack slung over one shoulder. He ran a hand gently over Krypto's head and said softly, "I'll keep my promise when I get back, alright?"
Krypto barked enthusiastically, tail wagging as he spun around in place before jumping up to lick Clark's face.
"Guard the house and make sure to protect Granny Seiko, okay?" Clark added with a teasing grin.
Krypto barked again in agreement while Seiko rolled her eyes. "Just go already, you two. You'll be late."
Clark chuckled and stood. "Look who you're talking to. I'm the fastest man alive."
Seiko waved him off with a scoff. "Just enjoy your day."
"That's not possible," Clark and Momo chimed in unison as they stepped outside, giving quick goodbyes.
As they walked down the street, Momo's eyes lit up. "Can we do the thing?" she asked, practically bouncing with excitement.
Clark groaned, already regretting what was coming. "I'd rather not."
Momo latched onto his arm, swinging it back and forth like a child begging. "Please! Please! Please! Please!"
With a heavy sigh, Clark relented, unshouldering his backpack and holding it in front of him. "Fine. Just because I want to get this over with quickly."
"Hehehe," Momo giggled with satisfaction. She ran behind him and jumped onto his back, her arms wrapping around his neck as he hooked his hands beneath her legs.
She crossed her ankles at his waist and leaned in close to his ear. "Alright, I'm ready."
"You better not fall," Clark warned, his tone firm. "If you do, I'm not turning back. I'll just leave you where you drop."
"I'm not going to fa—AAAAAAAH!" Momo's voice turned into a scream of surprise as the world around her dissolved into a blur. Trees, cars, buildings—they all became streaks of color as Clark bolted forward, moving at speeds the human eye couldn't follow. Her senses lagged far behind the motion, unable to process just how fast they were truly going.
And Clark, expression calm and focused, simply ran—with Momo holding on for dear life.
In a matter of seconds, Clark and Momo arrived at a narrow alleyway just a short walk from the school. Momo stumbled forward, one hand pressed against the cold brick wall, the other clutching her stomach. Her cheeks were puffed, skin pale.
"I forgot we just had breakfast…" she muttered through clenched teeth, barely able to stand upright as her world slowly stopped spinning.
Her hand shot up to cover her mouth, fighting off the wave of nausea rising from her stomach. Clark stood a few steps away, leaning casually against the opposite wall with his arms folded, looking far too amused for her liking.
"Heh, I should actually do this more often," he teased, flashing her a smirk.
Momo shot him a middle finger without looking up, still breathing heavily through her nose. After a beat, she finally stood straight and gave a shaky nod. "I'm good… I'm good… I think I'm good."
Clark made a faint clicking sound with his tongue—just loud enough for her to hear. She glanced over with a deadpan stare, clearly unimpressed.
Clark chuckled under his breath as the two of them exited the alley, stepping out into the bustling street. They joined the crowd of students heading toward the towering school building ahead, blending into the river of uniforms and chatter.
"Say," Momo started, glancing at him sideways, "would I be able to join you on your trips?"
She deliberately kept her words vague, cryptic even. But Clark didn't hesitate.
"No," he said flatly.
"Seriously? Why not?" she pouted, her brows furrowing in annoyance.
"Because I said so." His voice carried a cold finality. "It's not a pretty sight to behold… and I don't want to talk about it."
Momo didn't push. She could tell from the sudden shift in his tone that it wasn't just about not letting her, but more so to protect her. She looked ahead instead, just as they passed through the school's tall gates and were met with the usual chaos of club recruitment day.
Rows upon rows of booths lined the main pathway. Students in bright jerseys and decorated uniforms waved registration papers in the air, calling out to every passerby. The air buzzed with energy.
Clubs of every kind were trying to recruit: soccer, basketball, tennis, volleyball—even quieter ones like the literature club, art club, and newspaper team.
Due to Clark's towering height and muscular build, he immediately drew attention like a magnet. He stood out like a tree in the middle of a garden, his presence impossible to ignore.
The moment they saw him, the eyes of the recruiters lit up with excitement. One by one, they began closing in.
"Dude, you're huge! Do you play sports? Consider joining the basketball team!"
"Your height is perfect for volleyball! We need someone like you!"
"Forget them, man! You look like you've got power—It's obvious you have a mean swing, come on to the baseball team!"
"It's obvious you'd dominate in soccer—"
"AAH!" Momo cried out as she was jostled aside by the aggressive crowd of recruiters fighting for Clark's attention.
Without missing a beat, Clark reached over and pulled her in close, tucking her protectively by his side. His arm locked around her shoulders like a shield as he sent a sharp, icy glare around them.
"Anyone, and I mean anyone, push her like that again," he said, voice low and controlled, "and I'll show you firsthand what a 'mean swing' really looks like."
The air around them changed. Though his words were calm, the weight they carried froze everyone in place. His piercing blue gaze silenced the crowd better than any shout could have.
The basketball recruiter raised his hands in surrender. "Whoa, hey, we're sorry! We didn't mean to be so forceful—we're just excited—"
"Then go be excited somewhere else," Clark cut him off, clearly irritated.
"Come on, we just want—" the baseball captain began, reaching out to pat Clark on the shoulder in a friendly manner.
"Touch me," Clark said, voice like ice, "and I'll personally make sure you miss this season with an injury."
The boy's hand stopped midair.
Clark's tone had dropped even further, like a low growl that promised consequences. He looked past the group, locking eyes with the volleyball rep blocking the path.
"I'm giving you all five seconds to move before I swing at the first idiot still standing in front of me," Clark warned, slowly raising his hand and counting down with his fingers. "Five… four… three… two…"
By the time his hand closed into a fist and cocked back, the crowd had already cleared a wide path, none of them daring to stay in his way.
Clark scoffed, shaking his head. "What a shame…"
He walked forward, not even sparing them another glance. Momo followed quickly behind, stifling her laughter as she looked back. The recruiters glared at Clark's back, clearly upset and embarrassed, but no one made a move to stop him.
Momo clapped her hands together and mouthed, "Sorry."
"Don't apologize to those annoying fuckers," Clark muttered under his breath, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Knowing them, they'll just keep pestering me every damn chance they get."
"Haha, well," Momo said, reaching out to lightly slap his bicep, "no one told you to grow so big. You basically ask for attention walking around like a walking tree."
However, just before they could enter the school, a tall black-haired girl suddenly slid in front of Clark and Momo, cutting them off.
"Hey, I saw what you did! Pretty ballsy, antagonizing the entire sports team like that," she said with a hand on her hip, holding out a registration form.
Clark simply moved to walk around her, clearly ignoring her presence. But she blocked him again, pressing the form against his chest to stop him. "Sorry, big guy, but you haven't heard my offer yet," she added, flashing a confident grin.
"That's because I'm clearly not interested," Clark replied coldly. "Now stop touching me."
Momo glanced back with a smirk. "Looks like this'll take a while. I'm going on ahead." She waved and disappeared into the building.
Clark groaned in frustration.
"Like I said, that attitude of yours? It's exactly what I need. I want someone with a spine on my team," the girl continued.
Clark looked skyward with a sigh. "I don't know if you're just dense or flat-out retarded, but I've already said I'm not interested. I'm getting irritated, so I'll only say this once—get out of my way."
She grinned wider. "Heh. Ballsy and not afraid to speak your mind. You just keep getting better. Unfortunately for you, big guy, no one tells Lois Lane no. I can be very stubborn."
Clark blinked, narrowing his eyes. "Wait… what did you just say your name was?"
"Hohoho, so I did catch your interest." She extended her hand. "Lois Lane. And I'm recruiting for the Sainan Metropolitan High School Newspaper Club. You'd make one hell of a reporter."
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