An esper, or ESPer, was the term used to describe people with extra sensory perception - superpowers, for lack of a better word. Most of them had basic control over the elements, such as fire, water - or wind, for this particular esper. Their very existence was a mystery - only a very select group of people in the government knew the origins behind esper powers. Not even the espers themselves understand how they got their powers.
In fact, the only way to gain esper powers was to pass the Alcaster Academy appraisals - which in theory sounded easy enough to do.
They accepted applicants of all sorts, from the trench cities on Earth to the far-flung colonies of Andromeda. Whether you were a genius or a kindergarten dropout, the only requirement to become an esper was that you passed the qualification exams for the Academy.
These exams also happened to be ridiculously expensive. If you made it past the preliminary trials, you'd then have to pay the cost equivalent of a house in tuition fees. As a result, only the super-rich could afford to attend the Academy.
And going by experience, the spawn of the rich were often sheltered and had little empathy for others, such as this esper giving Nero a hard time.
If only he had esper powers as well! He would definitely have hoped for something better than wind. In Nero's mind, the ability to control wind was one of the most pointless abilities out there - apart from flying and blowing stuff around, there wasn't much you could really hope to accomplish.
Unfortunately, Nero possessed as much psychic ability as a cockroach, and cockroaches were at the mercy of everything stronger than themselves. It wasn't the first time he had to put up with being bullied by espers, and it certainly wouldn't be the last, either.
What annoyed him the most was that unless this esper was a complete novice, the finger motion wasn't even necessary to control the wind. This esper was just taunting him.
But he had his own way of dealing with bullies.
Nero dropped to the ground and curled up in a ball. He took in a deep breath, then yelled as loudly as he could:
"Stop the wind! Stop! The sand's getting in my eyes!"
As expected, the mini sandstorm abated immediately.
Because of the nature of esper powers, it was often difficult to establish if a supernatural phenomenon - from a gust of unfortunate wind lifting a skirt to a lightning strike - was due to sheer bad luck, or ill intent.
There was a strict fine imposed on espers who used their powers on others, accompanied by a black mark on their records - but it was often hard to enforce. This wasn't the case for Obin, however - since there was so little going on in the tiny town, the enforcers could quickly track down any mischief-makers. Any esper worth their salt would be smart enough to avoid confrontation.
And sure enough, the people at the beach took notice.
"Is that an esper?"
"He's bullying the ice-cream guy."
"Hey! Get away from Nero!"
Nero threw his assailant a satisfied smirk, and was rewarded with him flipping Nero the bird. The esper signalled to the guy talking to Ophelia, who hurriedly patted Ophelia on the shoulder and jogged off.
Once they were out of sight, Ophelia brushed off the ghost of the guy's touch, crinkling her nose in disgust.
"Sorry you had to go through that again," she said.
"I'm used to it," replied Nero, tugging on her sleeves. "Maybe you should dress more conservatively."
Ophelia looked down at her light yellow sundress and scowled. "Am I supposed to wear a parka to the beach?"
"I'm just joking. They'd come for you even if you were wearing a suit of armour."
"Ah, the woes of being attractive."
She grinned as Nero rolled his eyes.
"Maybe you'll finally meet someone nice in university," said Nero. "Then I won't have to put up with these jealous losers all the time."
"...yeah. I wanted to talk to you about that."
"You've found someone?"
"No, stupid. About university."
Despite being a year older than Ophelia, Nero had opted to take a gap year before entering university on the grounds of "I'm not interested". Living alone at the age of 19 wasn't cheap or easy, and while his parents had left behind a small fortune, he simply didn't see the need to go back to school.
On the other hand, Ophelia was a straight A student, and her headmaster had personally written to some of the top schools in the South vouching for her 'drive for excellence and academic brilliance.' Mr and Mrs Katori wouldn't shut up about that for a week.
It went without asking that Ophelia was going to university. The only spanner in the works was that she wanted Nero to go as well.
"You've picked your school already, then?" asked Nero.
"Something like that… and I've picked it for you, too."
"You already know how I feel about studying."
Ophelia's smile was infectious. "But I promised you'd like it, didn't I?"
She reached into her bag and fished out her phone. After disregarding a long string of unread messages, she found the image she was looking for.
"Pentheholm University is pleased to announce that your application on 12 June has been approved," read Nero. "You got into Pentheholm?!"
Located in the city of… well, Pentheholm, Pentheholm University was an incredibly elite school that took in only the best of the best. It was said that nothing short of a perfect score would get you a place in Pentheholm - even those who had perfect scores would sometimes be rejected because they never participated in any co-curricular activities.
"WE got into Pentheholm," said Ophelia happily. "I submitted that project you did in your last year along with your application, and apparently it really impressed the judging committee."
Nero knew exactly what Ophelia was referring to.
In his final year at Obin Majorus, Nero had developed a pen that could generate a field of digital interference, preventing others from taking photos, videos, and any other form of electronic recording of the user. Many similar inventions had been made in the past - but Nero's camera distortion pen was special in that the field was limited only to whoever was holding the pen.
As a result, anyone trying to take a photo of Nero would find that their picture had a strange white distortion where the subject was supposed to be. His invention was a huge welcome to people who were prone to unwanted paparazzi or stalkers - such as Ophelia, whom he had also credited as the inspiration for his project.
"But Pentheholmians are all geniuses," complained Nero, long since resigned to the fact that Ophelia had memorised all his personal information and could forge his signature perfectly. "I'm not that smart."
"Maybe not academically," admitted Ophelia, "but you're brilliant at problem solving, and that's what Pentheholm wants in their students. Come on, it's the chance of a lifetime."