“This Makes No Sense!”
Takuto Kimura’s cry of despair echoed through the swimming pool like a siren of intellectual breakdown. He clung to the pool’s edge like a soaked alley cat, his legs kicking frantically and helplessly below the surface. His eyes were wide with panic, his thoughts racing faster than he could process them.
"My body fat percentage is exactly 18.7%," he shouted at the empty air, hands gripping the poolside as if trying to anchor himself to reality. "So according to Archimedes' Principle, my buoyancy should equal the weight of the displaced water, and yet—why am I sinking like a stone?"
Coach Tanaka, who had been trying to maintain an air of patience, crouched beside him, his face a mix of confusion and concern. "Kimura-kun," he sighed, "swimming isn’t a math problem. You need to relax."
"I am relaxing—in the most scientifically accurate way possible!" Takuto snapped back, his teeth clenched. "My heart rate is a
Takuto, Kenta, and Misaki were crammed into the furthest booth at McDonald's, surrounded by burger wrappers and scattered fries. Daifuku the cat sat perched on the table, its tail rhythmically thumping like a metronome—urging them to get down to business."So here's the plan—" Misaki began, sketching a rough flowchart in ketchup on a napkin. "Step one: Let Executive Yamada ‘accidentally’ find a classified document. Step two: Lure her into tampering with the data. Step three: Catch her red-handed."Kenta sipped through his straw. "Sounds like elementary school kids catching a cheater.""That's because we are elementary school kids," Takuto deadpanned.Misaki rolled her eyes. "The important part is the document." She pulled out a sleek, stapled folder from her backpack. The cover read:“Kimura Heavy Industries: Core Technology Transfer Agre
On 1:23 AM, the security system at Kimura Heavy Industries showed all systems normal.In the surveillance room, the night guard Tanaka yawned and lazily switched the camera feed—a brief static flickered across the warehouse feed before it snapped back to normal."Another stray cat, probably..." he muttered, sipping coffee, completely missing the small shadow skimming along the wall.That shadow—Takuto Kimura, clad in makeshift ninja gear (a.k.a. his mom’s black yoga pants and his dad’s old T-shirt)—held his breath, clutching a homemade signal jammer built from a hacked toy RC car. The motion sensors? Disabled, for now. “I never did stuff like this when I was the CEO in my past life,” he grumbled inwardly.“Guess I’ve been reborn into a life of corporate espionage...”Suddenly—click.Takuto froze.
In front of the towering headquarters of Kimura Heavy Industries, Takuto Kimura tilted his head back, staring up at the familiar steel behemoth. His stomach twisted involuntarily.It was here—in this exact building—that he'd worked late into the night helping Grandpa during his past life, only to mysteriously drop dead on the couch in the president’s office at 3 a.m."Scared already?" came a mocking voice beside him.His cousin Kenta—formerly the heir to a rival company in Takuto’s previous life, now also eleven years old—stood with his head tilted and a smirk that made Takuto want to punch something.Adjusting the knot on his child-sized necktie (Grandpa had insisted on formal attire), Takuto shot back with a cold smile,“I was just considering… where to begin reforming this outdated company.”“Reform?” Kenta leaned in, loweri
Takuto Kimura, now is age: 11. Fifth Grade. Former corporate elite. Current old soul trapped in a child’s body.He sat at the dinner table, elegantly (in his own mind) slicing a piece of steak with surgical precision.Tonight was the family’s monthly dinner gathering. As usual, Grandpa Takuto had come to visit. At seventy, the old man was as sharp as ever—his silver hair was combed immaculately, and his tailored suit looked ready for an impromptu board meeting. In the Kimura family, aside from the Kimura Trading Company, there was also Kimura Heavy Industries Inc. And Grandpa was still its acting president.“Takuto,” Grandpa suddenly said, setting down his wine glass and fixing him with a piercing gaze, “come intern at my company.”Screeech.Takuto’s knife let out a shrill scrape across the porcelain plate.“…Huh?”“Start training the next successor early!” Grandpa chu
The bulletin board in front of the school pool was unusually crowded that morning, as excited students buzzed around, pointing at the bright red letters on a newly pinned poster:“Graduation Performance Applications Now Open!”Takuto Kimura stood silently before the board, ignoring the chatter around him. The lenses of his glasses gleamed with an unsettling brilliance as his brain kicked into high gear.“Each class submits one act…” he murmured, eyes narrowing. “That means over 200 audience members, plus family and faculty… A captive market, ideal for a soft launch. Exposure potential on par with a small-cap IPO pitch…”Miu suddenly appeared behind him, arms crossed.“Planning world domination again, CEO?” she asked dryly. “What is it this time? ‘Death of a Salesman: The CEO Drowns’?”Takuto didn’t even flinch. Instead, he turned to her with a grin too confident for a fourth-grader.“No. We’re staging The Splash M
Takuto Kimura stood in the dimly lit bathroom, staring at the surface of the bathtub like it was an ancient oracle about to deliver a grim prophecy. The water sloshed gently, mocking him with every ripple. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead despite the cool night air.Above him, from his perch atop the washing machine, Daifuku the orange tabby loomed like a silent judge. His golden-green eyes glowed with the kind of profound disdain only a cat can muster—somewhere between “you disappoint me” and “I should be emperor.”Takuto gulped. “Okay... commence training sequence.”Daifuku’s pupils narrowed. His tail flicked once. Without warning—SPLASH!He dove into the bathtub with a level of elegance that defied biology. The water parted like silk, the splash so minimal it could’ve been mistaken for a drop of rain. Once submerged, the feline twisted his lithe body in a graceful underwater pirouette, then surfaced with ee
The digital scoreboard above the pool glared in crimson letters:“Final Evaluation: Dive + 25m Freestyle”Takuto Kimura stood at the water’s edge, his toes curling over the tile. His fingers clenched and unclenched at his sides. It felt as though someone had swapped out his stomach with a brick of solid lead.He could swim now—barely. Two weeks of borderline militaristic training had gotten him to a shaky dog paddle. But diving? That was a cosmic leap. It wasn’t just about form. It was about falling on purpose. Into water. From a height.“That’s suicide disguised as curriculum,” he muttered, glancing up at the diving platform like it owed him money.“All right,” Coach Tanaka barked, whistle dangling from his lips. “We go by student ID number. First up—Sato!”Airi Sato, the tiniest girl in class, practically bounced onto the diving platform. With the grace of a trained sea fairy, she leapt—and carved through
“This Makes No Sense!”Takuto Kimura’s cry of despair echoed through the swimming pool like a siren of intellectual breakdown. He clung to the pool’s edge like a soaked alley cat, his legs kicking frantically and helplessly below the surface. His eyes were wide with panic, his thoughts racing faster than he could process them."My body fat percentage is exactly 18.7%," he shouted at the empty air, hands gripping the poolside as if trying to anchor himself to reality. "So according to Archimedes' Principle, my buoyancy should equal the weight of the displaced water, and yet—why am I sinking like a stone?"Coach Tanaka, who had been trying to maintain an air of patience, crouched beside him, his face a mix of confusion and concern. "Kimura-kun," he sighed, "swimming isn’t a math problem. You need to relax.""I am relaxing—in the most scientifically accurate way possible!" Takuto snapped back, his teeth clenched. "My heart rate is a
Takuto Kimura was leisurely flipping through the latest issue of Nikkei Kids, a financial magazine he’d secretly founded and published himself, when the classroom door was flung open with a dramatic crash."Everyone!" PE teacher Mr. Tanaka bounded in, waving a notice above his head. "Starting next Monday—we’re having swimming lessons!"“YAAAAAY!!!” The class erupted in a deafening cheer.Except for one spot. Takuto’s chair gave a heart-wrenching creak as he slowly slid off it and crumpled to the floor.“Takuto?” Mr. Tanaka blinked at the top student, now ghost-pale. “You okay?”Takuto shakily raised his hand. “Sensei… I just remembered a very important economic question…”“Oh?”“The profitability model of the swimming industry deserves serious academic scrutiny!” Takuto suddenly leapt to his feet, speaking at light speed. “For example, marginal cost analysi