Episode 5

Osaka, Japan – 03:47 A.M.

A sleek black SUV rolled to a silent stop outside a quiet apartment district, its lights off, windows tinted. The street was still, only the faint rustle of wind through trees and the occasional hum of a vending machine.

Inside the vehicle, four figures sat in silence, their eyes glowing faintly under specialized lenses.

“Target location: Japan, Kansai region,” one murmured into a small comms device. “Urban foster systems cross-referenced with disappearance date. We begin with Osaka.”

The man in charge, codenamed Jiro, turned to the team.

“You know the rules. No public disruption. No questions from civilians. We are here to observe, locate, and extract—if and only if identification is confirmed.”

A woman beside him asked, “Do we have visual reference?”

Jiro opened a sleek case and removed a single photograph—aged, folded once down the middle. A woman holding a baby. The child had clear eyes and a curious, knowing expression far too focused for a baby.

The locket shimmered faintly in the photo.

Jiro frowned. “It’s possible she doesn’t even wear it anymore. The signature might be dormant. But if she’s begun activating it—”

“Then she’s changing,” someone else finished.

He nodded. “Exactly.”

---

Operation: Silent Bloom

Over the next days, the Kage Team spread out across Osaka. On the surface, they looked like ordinary tourists, foreign students, or quiet businesspeople.

But behind that normalcy, they were reviewing:

Hospital records from 13 years ago—particularly abandoned infants or unregistered adoptions.

School databases, searching for children with unusual intelligence spikes, especially in science or physics.

Foster homes and guardians who might have raised children in secrecy.

Every movement was precise. Every conversation, recorded. Every child fitting the profile, flagged and logged.

---

Back in Seoul

Seo Jin-wook stood in his private office again, eyes fixed on a large screen filled with data streams. It updated in real time as the team fed information from the field.

“She’s in there somewhere,” he muttered.

His fingers hovered over the screen. He zoomed in on the school map of a district near Osaka.

He froze.

A name popped up on a flagged list.

Hikari (no registered surname)

Age: 13

Guardian: Daichi Sato (single, not blood-related)

History: Found abandoned in alley at 3 months old

Current status: Gifted in academics; recent sudden shift in science aptitude.

He clenched his fist.

“I found you,” he whispered.

---

Meanwhile, in Hikari’s World…

Hikari sat in science class, staring at the textbook, but her mind wasn’t really on the page.

Lately, the numbers spoke to her differently. The patterns clicked. Things she’d never understood now made strange, thrilling sense. As if something inside her had finally woken up.

What she didn’t know was that, just two buildings away, a man in a grey suit stood watching the school through binoculars.

No one knew he was there. Not even Daichi.

But in his earpiece, a voice whispered in Korean:

> “Subject located.”

> “Awaiting extraction plan.”

> “Father says… do not fail.”

It was a normal Tuesday.

Or at least, it should’ve been.

The weather was calm, students were dragging their feet through hallways after lunch, and Hikari had just finished a lab on magnetic fields. She was packing up her books when she noticed it:

Someone was watching her.

Not a teacher. Not a classmate.

Someone she didn’t recognize—leaning just slightly outside the school fence, holding what looked like a camera.

He wasn't pointing it at anyone else.

Just her.

She blinked, and in that moment, he was gone.

---

Later That Day

In the hallway near the lockers, a soft voice called her name.

“Hikari?”

She turned. A young woman stood near the vending machines. She looked like a university student—short, neat hair, a calm expression, friendly eyes.

“I’m from a scholarship research group,” the woman said, holding up an ID. “We’re looking for promising young students who’ve shown sudden excellence in STEM fields. Would you mind answering a few questions?”

Hikari tilted her head.

“I wasn’t told anything.”

“Oh, your teacher will be informed after. Just a quick chat, only if you’re comfortable.”

Something about the woman felt… off. Too polite. Too prepared.

Still, curiosity tugged at her.

“I guess... okay,” Hikari said carefully.

---

The Interview Room

It wasn’t far. An empty classroom on the second floor. The woman led her inside and gestured to a chair.

Hikari sat. The woman didn’t.

Instead, she pulled out a small tablet.

“We’ve been observing students who show... let’s say, unusual resonance with electromagnetic studies,” she said casually. “Have you ever noticed odd behavior with electronics? Lights flickering? Things reacting to your touch?”

Hikari’s fingers curled slightly. That had been happening.

“…Sometimes,” she admitted.

The woman smiled.

“And this?” she said, pulling up a digital photo on the tablet screen.

It was an old, grainy image.

A locket. Her locket.

Hikari’s blood ran cold.

“Have you ever seen something like this?” the woman asked softly.

Hikari stood up, her chair scraping the floor.

“I… I have to go.”

She moved toward the door.

But the woman gently stepped between her and the exit.