The midday sun hung low, casting a warm glow over the sprawling field where our P.E. class was set to meet. I made my way to the first-floor changing room, feeling the usual pang of reluctance. I found a corner seat on an empty bench, watching the others chat and change with ease. I stayed put, waiting until most of them had left, as usual, to avoid drawing any unnecessary attention.
My hand brushed over my chest instinctively, feeling the rough texture of the scar hidden beneath my shirt. I wasn't in a rush; I didn't want anyone catching a glimpse of the scar on my chest. Even though it was mostly hidden, the memory it held—of that day with Evan—was something I wanted to keep buried and rather keep to myself.
Suddenly, a familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Hey, Nao."
I looked up, a mix of surprise and relief crossing my face. Standing there was Christopher Westwood. "Chris! I didn't know you were at Protea," I said, smiling as he came over to sit beside me. He looked much the same as he had back when we were kids—relaxed, self-assured, and just a bit mischievous.
He smirked, his expression warm. "Good to see you too. You know, I've been in your class this whole time. Thought you'd notice, but I guess you're still a bit distracted, huh?"
I chuckled, a little embarrassed. "Really? Sorry, I didn't pay much attention earlier."
I hadn't noticed that Chris was in the same class as me. During introductions, I was too focused on quickly sitting down and not becoming the center of attention. Their stares made me unable to look directly at their faces, so I didn't realize Chris was in my class. And after the break, other classmates immediately crowded around me.
Chris laughed, and the familiarity of it brought a sense of ease, almost like we'd never lost touch. He was still the same as I remembered, the kind of guy who could make you feel like everything was lighter just by being around.
The other students seemed to notice him too, sneaking glances our way. Chris had always attracted attention, thanks to his friendly nature and his title, "
"Seems like you're still pretty popular, huh?" I said with a slight grin.
He shrugged, a little oblivious to the interest of those around us. "Guess you could say that. But hey, good to see some things never change."
He shot me a smile that was both warm and a little unfocused like he hadn't quite picked up on my teasing. His gaze drifted over the room, seemingly unaware of the subtle tension that came from being in the spotlight. "I'm glad you're here, man."
Before I could respond, another student walked over—a guy I hadn't met formally but recognized as one of the friendlier faces in class. He had sandy blond hair and a laid-back energy that made him seem approachable right away.
"You're not changing?" he asked me, his eyes flicking between me and Chris.
I offered a polite nod. "Waiting until it clears out a bit. I haven't got everyone's names down yet. You are…?"
"Kyle. Kyle Bright." He gave me a grin and then looked over at Chris, clearly feeling at ease. "Saw you two looked like you go way back. You must be childhood friends?"
I nodded. "Yeah, Chris and I go way back."
Kyle's grin widened. "Well, it's always good to have friends around. This school can be a lot to take in."
He seemed genuine, and friendly in a way that wasn't overbearing. "And yeah, Chris and I have known each other for years. We did a lot of training together back in the day."
"I just don't like showing my scars to others. You can go first."
"Oh, sorry. I didn't understand your situation." He apologized before turning to Chris and changing the topic. "Aren't you changing, Chris?"
"Oh, I'm going now. See you, Nao."
Chris then walked towards the locker at the end of the room.
"Alright, I'll change now. I'll wait outside; I want to talk to you."
"Ok."
Kyle then went to his locker to change clothes and left, waving at me.
When it looked like the others had also finished. Now it was my turn to change clothes.
I paused briefly as I undid the buttons of my shirt, feeling the fabric slip from my shoulders. I knew I'd have to confront my reflection in a moment—the scar that was forever etched into my skin.
A pulse of memory, of fear, always resurfaced, like a shadow lurking just out of sight. I lowered my gaze slowly, feeling the weight of the past settle in my chest. There it was—a scar, faint but impossible to ignore—the scar that was forever etched into my skin just above my heart.
It wasn't big, but it felt as though it took up more space than it should, an uncomfortable reminder of something I could never erase—out of place in a way that didn't belong.
It was a bullet scar, etched deeply into my left chest, a reminder of something I'd rather keep locked away. The thought of anyone asking about it, trying to pry into what happened, sent a prickle of discomfort down my spine. That's why I waited to change, long after the others had gone.
I knew I could refuse to answer questions and brush them off, but people would still remember that I'd tried to avoid the topic. And I didn't want to leave even a trace of that memory with anyone.
"Huh... if only this scar could just disappear," I muttered, fingers brushing over the roughened skin.
"My other scars, even the surgery scars, healed completely," I sighed, "so why did this one have to stay?"
After sighing a bit, I changed into my P.E. clothes.
These clothes were quite simple. Shorts and a long-sleeved shirt in plain blue with red stripes on the edges. A simple design. This shirt was plain and only had a logo on the left chest, so I liked it. I preferred something not too flashy. I left the room.
Finished changing, I walked outside and saw Chris and Kyle waiting. They waved, and we headed to the field together. The school grounds were immense, almost like a small stadium surrounded by trees, the running track curving around the perimeter.
I was the last student to change. Like it or not, we had to hurry, or we would be late for class.
"Ok. You don't know the place, right? Let me show you," Kyle said confidently.
Since I started at this school, I hadn't had a chance to explore, so having Kyle guide me was very helpful.
We reached the field, and a strong, clear voice called out, "Alright, everyone, attention!"
A man, probably around 25, walked towards us, exuding a quiet but noticeable authority. He introduced himself with a confident smile.
"My name is Alan Callahan, and I'll be your P.E. instructor. I'm also an Esper."
His words hung in the air for a moment as murmurs of surprise rippled through the students. At his age, it was rare—almost unheard of—to be an Esper.
Kyle muttered beside me, "Guess rules don't apply to everyone."
Of course, it was understandable why they were surprised.
When the relic was discovered, its power came with limits—one being an assumed age restriction. Officially, only those born within a 15-year window before the relic's discovery could form a contract, with 21 being the presumed cutoff age. Yet, Mr. Alan, now 25, clearly defied this notion. What few knew, though, was that it wasn't truly an age limit but a restriction set by the relic itself.
I understood this because I could read the relic's language, an unusual skill passed down from my father. The government remained unaware of the relic's true criteria, relying on public assumptions. My father had taught me this language but cautioned me to keep it secret, always saying, "You'll understand when the time comes." Only now was I beginning to realize that my family's knowledge—perhaps like the relic's limits—was layered with purpose, boundaries, and timing.
"Some of you look shocked," Mr. Alan said with a grin, "but keep your questions to yourselves for now. Today, we're here to train, not chat." He folded his arms and looked out over the group. "We'll start with an endurance test. Four laps around the school. No powers allowed. Let's see what you're made of."
A few students let out groans, Kyle among them. I could see his eyes widen as he took in the task. The field was enormous, and four laps around it sounded like over 24 kilometers. For most people, that would be an ordeal, especially without powers to assist.
"Four laps?" Kyle muttered. "For some of us, that's pushing it, don't you think?"
I shrugged, feeling a competitive edge kick in. "It's not so bad once you get going."
"Easy for you to say," he grumbled. "For Magicians like me, we aren't really built for long-distance runs."
I turned to him, curious. "You're a Magician?"
Kyle's eyebrows rose, surprised. "How'd you know?"
I held back a smirk. Most Magicians could sense each other through their mana, but Espers typically couldn't. My ability to sense mana was a strange skill I'd inherited, though I didn't bother trying to explain that now, it is some unheard-of theory.
"Just a guess," I replied. "Magicians have a certain… vibe."
Kyle seemed to accept this, but I could tell he'd keep an eye on me from now on. Beside me, Chris chuckled, picking up on the unsaid nuances between us.
Mr. Alan's whistle snapped us back to focus, and we took off on our first lap. Kyle, Chris, and I stuck together, maintaining a steady pace, though I could tell Kyle was struggling to keep up.
"Not used to this, huh?" I asked, glancing his way.
"Give me a break," Kyle huffed, his face flushed. "We're not all marathon runners here."
Chris patted him on the back, offering a bit of encouragement. "You'll get used to it, man. Nao's just setting a fast pace."
I slowed down a bit, realizing I'd let my competitive streak get the best of me. "Let's keep it steady," I said, focusing back on the rhythm of our steps as we fell into sync.
The track led us around the vast perimeter, past the first checkpoint where a few students had already stopped for a break. We pressed on, the fresh air and trees around us providing a refreshing change from the classrooms. It felt good to push myself like this again, to have something physical to focus on.
"Kyle, can you keep this up until the first lap?" I asked, testing him.
He nodded, his breathing steady but a bit labored. "Yeah, I think so. I just might need a break after."
"Fair enough," I replied. "We'll see how we're feeling at the next checkpoint."
As we passed the first post, we only saw a few people sitting, and it looked like one of them was already a bit exhausted.
Three people and they were all girls, no guys resting at the first post. Besides, this is just one and a half kilometers after running. Even regular people can do it.