Yuki sat cross-legged on the floor of his bedroom inside the quiet orphanage, the cold glow of his smartphone screen illuminating his face.
His thumb tapped the screen with precise, rapid efficiency, finalizing his very first executive mandate to the twelve members worldwide.
He hit the upload prompt in the [ FORUM ] thread.
___
FROM: O5-1 (THE REINCARNATOR)
TO: ALL COUNCIL MEMBERS
…
___
He let out a slow, steady breath as the file was uploaded, feeling an immense wave of relief wash over him.
The terrifying logistical void that had been suffocating his thoughts just hours ago finally eased.
He didn’t need a multi-billion-dollar military budget to secure everything.
He could approach cooperative anomalies as human beings, reason with them, and form a makeshift Mobile Task Force akin to the lore of Project Pandora’s Box.
“I’m home!”
The cheerful, gentle greeting resonated softly from the hallway.
Yuki instantly identified the voice as Tohru returning from school.
The moment her voice registered, a sharp jolt of pure panic slammed directly into him, as his fingers froze over the smartphone.
Hearing her voice triggered his memories about the two anomalous first-year boys he had observed arguing right next to her desk during lunchtime.
I completely forgot about them!
Yuki thought, his teeth gritting as a cold sweat broke out across his forehead.
In his focus on finding a way out of his situation earlier, the two of them slipped out of his mind.
He decided right then and there that he needed to ask Tohru more about those two, while helping her out with dinner preparations.
…
The kitchen smelled of simmering dashi and toasted sesame oil.
Tohru stirred the miso soup, her face flushed from the warm steam.
Beside her, Yuki expertly chopped green onions.
Ever since he had found her living under a bridge after her mother passed, he had been her anchor, a consistently warm and protective presence in her life.
“Thanks for helping, Yuki-kun,” Tohru beamed, her gentle voice matching the cozy bubbling of the pot.
“You’re always so dependable when things get busy around here.”
Yuki offered a relaxed, easygoing smile, keeping his movements perfectly steady.
“Don’t mention it. You’ve been working hard at school, so it’s the least I can do.”
As he deftly swept the green onions into a small bowl, his mind was on a completely different subject.
He needed information about the silver-haired and orange-haired first-years who were flagged by the app’s tracking.
“By the way,” Yuki began casually, leaning against the counter as he wiped down the cutting board.
“I happened to pass by the first-year wing during lunch break today to drop off a form. I couldn’t help but notice a bit of a scene inside your class. There were two guys arguing pretty loudly right in front of your desk, and it looked like you were stuck right in the middle trying to stop them.”
Tohru’s stirring hand froze for a split second.
A look of nervous, flushed embarrassment immediately washed over her features as she let out a small, sheepish laugh.
“Ah… you saw that, Yuki-kun? I’m so sorry if they caused a disturbance!”
“No, it’s fine,” Yuki chuckled reassuringly, propping his chin in his hand to maintain the laid-back older brother persona.
“I was just a bit worried. The silver-haired one looked ready to freeze the room over, and the orange-haired one looked like a live wire. Are they causing you any trouble? Who exactly are they?”
Tohru exhaled a soft, defeated sigh, her fingers tightening around the wooden ladle as she looked down at the simmering soup.
“They… they really don’t mean any harm, I promise! It’s just that they’ve been at each other’s throats since they were little. The silver-haired one is Sohma Yuki. Ah, it’s funny he shares your name! And the orange-haired one is Sohma Kyo. They are cousins, but… well, their family has a lot of complicated circumstances, and they really, truly cannot stand to be in the same room together for even a second without a fight breaking out.”
Sohma Yuki and Sohma Kyo, Yuki memorizes the names in his mind.
The fact that they shared a bloodline and an anomaly perfectly explained why their Hume levels fluctuated in tandem.
“Complicated circumstances, huh?” Yuki murmured thoughtfully, keeping his tone light.
“Well, as long as they aren’t hurting you. Just make sure to stay safe, Tohru. If they ever get too reckless, you tell me right away, okay?”
“I will! Thank you, Yuki-kun!” Tohru smiled radiantly, her anxieties completely melting away under his protective warmth.
…
After dinner, Yuki headed straight back to his room.
The exhaustion settled over his shoulders as he let out a long breath and lay down flat on his bed.
Knock, knock.
The sudden, soft sound at his door cut through the quiet room.
He stood up, pulled the door open, and found Shiro standing there.
Her cascading long hair framed her small face, and her large golden eyes looked up at him with a slight tilt.
She was clutching a wireless gaming controller tightly to her chest.
“Nii…” Shiro murmured, her voice a tiny, monotone whisper.
“The latency downstairs is awful. It’s completely throwing off my strategy, and I’m losing my match. Let me use your computer.”
Yuki chuckled softly, stepping aside to let his brilliant, socially anxious little sister pass.
“Your stories are safe,” Shiro muttered blankly, gliding past him as her small form instantly dropped onto his desk chair.
She pulled her knees up to her chest, curling into a comfortable gaming ball, and deftly flipped his high-end computer monitor on.
Her tiny fingers moved at blinding speed across the keyboard to boot up her game.
“I won’t touch your files. After all, you’re the one who buys my games, Nii.”
“Hey, I have deadlines to maintain,” Yuki replied with a smile, closing the door to secure her peace.
He walked back over to his bed and lay down once more, the rhythmic, high-frequency clacking of Shiro in the mechanical keyboard filling the background of the room like a comforting noise.
With his little sister completely submerged in her virtual world, Yuki subtly pulled his smartphone from his pocket.
He unlocked the interface to check the SCP application.
He navigated past the main terminal screen straight into the logs where the unclassified, undesignated SCPs were located.
He intended to fill out the empty logs.
He tapped the very first entry on the list to check the system’s background parsing results, and the screen illuminated his face with a dense, newly generated text.
___
DESIGNATION: SCP-___ (Sakuragawa Kuro)
OBJECT CLASS: PENDING
LOCATION: Tokyo, Japan
DESCRIPT…
___
Yuki’s breath hitched as he finished reading the file, his eyes widening in pure realization as the name and the description finally connected in his mind.
“Sakuragawa Kuro… Wait, this is Iwanaga Kotoko’s boyfriend!” Yuki whispered to himself, a sudden, brilliant grin breaking across his face.
(Author: I intended to put the SCP he fills out at the end of each chapter, starting from here.)
***
O5-2 The Eccentric Inventor, Professor Hiroshi Agasa, sat rigidly at his primary laboratory desk, his thick frame sweating slightly inside his white lab coat.
Opposite him stood Edogawa Conan, his arms crossed with an intensely sharp and suspicious gaze, while Haibara Ai leaned casually against a server rack, her expression cold and analytical.
Buzz.
The heavy, unyielding smartphone resting on the desk suddenly throbbed with a forceful, deep vibration, throwing a crisp crimson warning across the display.
The notification wasn’t an isolated event.
It was the culmination of a deeply unscientific nightmare that had consumed Agasa since dawn.
He had woken up from what felt like a cosmic, thirteen-sided boardroom assembly, only to find a stark, engraving permanently seared into the flesh of his left palm, the Roman numeral II.
Terrified of a foreign virus or a bizarre neurological condition, Agasa had immediately run himself through every advanced medical scanner, x-ray machine, and chemical composition analyzer inside his private home laboratory.
Yet every single diagnostic terminal returned the exact same reading.
His cellular health, bone density, and blood work were completely, flawlessly normal.
There was no trace of ink, burn tissue, or external trauma.
He had desperately wanted to call Conan and Ai to his side the exact second the machines failed, but he knew they were trapped in morning lectures at Teitan Elementary School.
Forcing his anxiety down, he had painfully waited out the hours until their afternoon dismissal before frantically contacting them to come to his residence.
Now that they were standing in his workspace, Agasa clicked the flashing warning icon on his screen.
The application smoothly flipped to the live [ RADAR ] tracking.
Agasa’s jaw dropped, his round glasses nearly slipping off his nose as he stared at the digital map.
The tracking interface didn’t show a minor, pinpointed anomaly.
A massive, glowing white circle in large scale is completely plastered over the entire municipal expanse of Beika City.
The local fabric of reality was logged as unstable, shifting violently across the entire town.
“Professor?” Conan asked, his voice cutting through Agasa’s paralysis as he noticed the older man trembling.
“You’ve been acting completely strange since we walked through the door. What exactly did you want to show us?”
“A-Ah…” Agasa stammered, his eyes darting from the giant city-wide boundary down to the bottom corner of the screen.
Right on the edge of the grid, two distinct white blip markers were inside his home.
He squinted at the live map, running the calculations in his head, before looking up at the two children standing right in front of him.
The radar wasn’t tracking incoming monsters from the wild.
The two blinking markers were perfectly synced to the exact physical movements of Conan and Ai themselves.
“Professor Agasa,” Haibara said, her voice a calm, suspicious whisper as she stepped closer to the desk, her sharp eyes locking onto the glowing blue screen.
“What exactly are you hiding from us?”
Agasa broke into a nervous sweat, frantically turning the phone toward the two children.
“Look! Just look at this screen, Shinichi! Ai-kun! The whole town of Beika is in a giant blip, and the radar says the two of you are-”
He cut himself off as Conan and Haibara leaned in, staring blankly at the device.
To their eyes, there was no warning, no administrative interface, and absolutely no live map.
All that was visible on the screen was a completely standard, mundane smartphone interface showing a default home screen wallpaper with basic system apps.
Conan adjusted his glasses, his expression instantly deadpan.
“Professor… It’s just your regular phone menu. There’s nothing on the screen at all.”
“N-No! That’s impossible!” Agasa stammered, pulling the phone back to confirm.
“It’s right here! If you can’t see the screen, then look at my hand! Look at this mark!”
He desperately held out his left hand, turning his palm flat right in front of their faces.
Conan and Haibara both froze, their eyes widening as they locked onto his palm.
Etched cleanly into the delicate skin of his left hand was a stark, dark engraving that looked dangerous, a flawless Roman numeral II.
Conan took Agasa’s large hand, his sharp eyes scrutinizing the mark.
He rubbed his thumb over the skin, expecting to wipe away ink or find a temporary tattoo sticker, but his fingers felt the genuine texture of the flesh.
“Wait, this is a real mark… It looks like a burn, but there’s no blistering or tissue damage around the edges. Professor, when did you get this? Did someone break in here last night?”
“I told you, it happened right when I woke up from that strange dream!” Agasa cried out, exasperated.
“This brand is real, and the things my phone is are real too!”
Haibara stepped closer, her expression shifting from medical skepticism to deep, calculating anxiety as she stared at the dark numeral.
“Shinichi, the physical mark is real. But look at his behavior. He keeps pointing at a blank phone screen, claiming it’s showing a map of the entire city. A brand combined with hyper-vivid, technology-centric hallucinations… This could be the psychological result of a highly sophisticated neural toxin or advanced hypnotic suggestion.”
Conan looked up at his old neighbor with deeply worried, doubtful eyes.
“Professor, I believe your hand is hurt, but I think your mind is playing serious tricks on you because of exhaustion. Someone might be trying to mess with you. There’s nothing on that phone screen. Let’s get you cleaned up and take a look at that palm under a proper light.”
Agasa collapsed back into his office chair, holding the smartphone tightly against his chest as the two children began discussing which medical kits to pull from the shelves.
***
DESIGNATION: SCP-002-SOL (Sakuragawa Kuro)
OBJECT CLASS: Euclid / Thaumiel
Special Containment Procedures:
SCP-002-SOL cannot be physically contained at this time.
It is currently classified as a Monitored Asset.
Surveillance is maintained by 05-13 The God of Wisdom.
DESCRIPTION:
SCP-002-SOL is a human male of Japanese descent, roughly 22 years of age, measuring 174 cm in height.
Genetically, SCP-002-SOL appears completely human.
However, his underlying physiology has been fundamentally rewritten due to the historical consumption of two distinct anomalous entities during his childhood: a Ningyo (Piscine Cryptid) and a Kudan (Bovine Reality-Bender).
While SCP-002-SOL appears entirely human to standard testing, his flesh and blood act as a lethal, fast-acting poison to spectral and mythological entities.
Spirits or cryptids that ingest even a microscopic fraction of his flesh experience immediate, violent cellular degradation.
Furthermore, his mere physical presence causes extreme instinctual terror in nearby entities of that classification.
SCP-002-SOL possesses two primary anomalous properties that activate in tandem:
1.
FUTURE SELECTION:
Upon sustaining fatal trauma or experiencing clinical death, SCP-002-SOL does not die.
Instead, his consciousness enters a localized retrocausal state.
SCP-002-SOL perceives all possible immediate future timelines stemming from his precise point of death.
2.
BIOLOGICAL RECONSTRUCTION:
To facilitate the future selection, SCP-002-SOL possesses infinite, high-speed regenerative capabilities.
If SCP-002-SOL selects a future timeline where he survives an attack, his physical body violently and instantly reconstructs itself to match that chosen reality, regrowing lost limbs or repairing cellular damage within a fraction of a second.
***
Author’s note:
Now, as to why Sakuragawa Kuro has the Thaumiel classification
-He can be used as an anti-anomaly with the composition of his body.
-His mere physical presence induces extreme instinctual terror in nearby spirits and cryptids.
He can act as a living containment shield or deterrent just by standing near a breach or a containment cell.
-He can choose a reality where he survives and instantly reconstructs his body, he can repeatedly test dangerous containment procedures, or fight hostile anomalies until he finds the exact path to victory.
Yeah, just like that…
As for where the descriptions came from…
The phone app is connected to Yuki and the other members and is actively filling in the details…
All the app needs is the name and the encounter from him or the others, and it can fill out the rest…
So in my head, even if Yuki doesn’t remember, the app will find the data in him by itself…
Yup, the data itself is kinda a cheat?…
This is not finalized by the way…
As this is the latest chapter as of now, and may change something later on… welp…
Hehe…