The great hall of the Stoicheio Academy hummed with nervous energy. Sixteen-year-olds, each adorned in ceremonial robes the color of their elemental affinity – fiery reds for pyromancers, shimmering blues for hydrokinetics, earthy browns for geomancers, and so on – stood poised, anticipation thick in the air. Kizu Sores, however, felt nothing but a cold dread. He was a blank canvas in a world painted with vibrant elemental hues. He was elementless.
His robe, a drab, unremarkable grey, felt like a shroud. He'd spent his life in the shadow of his peers, their effortless displays of power a constant reminder of his inadequacy. The whispers followed him like shadows – elementless, useless, a failure. Even his own family, though they tried to be supportive, couldn't hide their disappointment. In Stoicheio, elemental affinity wasn't just a talent; it was your destiny, your worth, your very identity. Without it, you were nothing.
The Awakening Ceremony was a spectacle, a public display of each student's potential. A crystal orb, imbued with ancient magic, would reveal their affinity, the intensity of the light signifying their power. Kizu watched, heart pounding, as one after another, his classmates' orbs blazed with glorious light, their faces alight with pride and excitement. A geomancer's orb pulsed with earthy brown, a pyromancer's crackled with fierce crimson, a hydrokinetic's shimmered with ethereal blue. Each success was a fresh stab to his already wounded self-esteem.
His turn arrived, and he approached the orb with a leaden heart. He placed his trembling hand upon its smooth surface, but nothing happened. No light, no warmth, no spark of anything. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the nervous coughs of the onlookers. A ripple of awkwardness spread through the hall, then murmurs, and finally, open whispers. The Master of Ceremonies, a stern-faced woman with wind-kissed silver hair, tried to maintain composure but failed. Her carefully constructed smile faltered. The air grew thick with pity, and Kizu felt his cheeks burn with shame.
The Master of Ceremonies, after a strained silence, announced what everyone already knew. "Kizu Sores... no affinity detected." The words hung in the air, heavy with judgment. Kizu's world seemed to tilt on its axis. He wanted to disappear, to melt into the floor and never be seen again. He felt the sting of countless eyes, each laden with pity, scorn, or indifference. He stumbled back, his vision swimming. The ceremony, intended to be a celebration, became a public execution of his worthlessness.
Leaving the hall felt like fleeing a battlefield, defeated and utterly broken. He slumped onto a bench in the deserted courtyard, the grey stone cold against his cheeks. Tears welled in his eyes, blurring the already indistinct world around him. He didn't know what the future held for him, an elementless boy in a world that valued power above all else. What kind of life awaited him? A life of drudgery? A life of insignificance? The thoughts gnawed at his mind, threatening to consume him.
He didn't notice the figure approaching until she was standing before him, her shadow falling over his despair. It was Ms. Airi, his homeroom teacher, a woman known for her stringent discipline and an unnervingly calm demeanor. He didn't expect sympathy from her, but he didn't expect this either. She was bending down, looking at him directly, a rare display of softness in her usually stern eyes.
Before he could offer any sort of response, a sudden, unexpected event drastically changed his life's trajectory. As Ms. Airi reached down to offer a hand, Kizu, in a moment of overwhelming self-pity and involuntary movement, stumbled, knocking the teacher off balance. The world turned upside down as she fell, her skirt momentarily riding up, and—in that fleeting, embarrassing instant—Kizu caught a glimpse of…her underwear.
The world didn't explode as he might have expected. Instead, a strange, ethereal glow enveloped him, a voice echoing in his mind, crisp and clear: "Student-Teacher Lewd System activating… Power acquisition commencing… Initiating inappropriate encounter protocol…"
Kizu stared, his mouth agape. He could barely process what had just transpired. A system? Inappropriate encounters? What in the world was going on? The voice continued, detailing its rather unusual mechanics: power could be gained by… well, through a series of "inappropriate encounters" with female students. The details were excruciatingly specific, outlining various levels of 'inappropriateness' and the corresponding power boosts. It was absurd, outrageous, and utterly mortifying.
Initially, Kizu was horrified, repulsed by the system's explicit demands. But the system's voice was unwavering, explaining that the power gained would be proportional to the "intensity" of the encounters. He was, after all, elementless, a failure. The allure of power, the chance to finally stand tall in a world that had scorned him, proved too strong to resist. He was faced with a choice: wallow in his despair, or embrace this ludicrous system, this twisted, unexpected path to power. Reluctantly, fear mixed with a spark of desperation, he agreed. His life was already a disaster. What more could possibly go wrong?
His despair gave way to a strange mixture of terror and exhilaration. The Student-Teacher Lewd System was preposterous, ludicrous, and possibly criminal. But it was also his only hope. And despite the absurdity of it all, a single, rebellious thought crossed his mind: this just might work. He took a deep breath, the weight of his despair lessening, replaced by a new, unpredictable sensation – hope, tinged with a healthy dose of disbelief. The awakening ceremony might have been a disaster, but his real awakening had just begun. And it was going to be one hell of a ride.
The system's voice, a calm, almost clinical monotone, continued its explanation. It detailed a complex ranking system, outlining various levels of "inappropriateness," each corresponding to a specific power boost. A simple accidental brush against a student's hand, for example, yielded a minor increase in agility. A more… "intimate" accidental touch resulted in a surge of strength. The system's descriptions escalated rapidly from there, detailing scenarios that made Kizu's cheeks burn with shame and mortification. He could feel his heart hammering against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence of the courtyard.
The system, with unnerving precision, explained that power acquisition wasn't solely dependent on the act itself but also on the student's reaction. A shy blush, a surprised gasp, even a subtle shift in posture – all contributed to the power gained. The more pronounced the reaction, the greater the power increase. The voice even went so far as to suggest optimal strategies for maximizing the "intensity" of these… encounters, offering suggestions that left Kizu speechless, horrified, and yet, strangely intrigued.
The absurdity of the situation was almost overwhelming. He, Kizu Sores, the elementless failure, was being offered a chance at power, at redemption, through a system that demanded… well, let's just say it was less than conventional. It bordered on the ridiculous, the unethical, and the downright illegal. Yet, the system's voice held a strange authority, its pronouncements undeniable, its logic inescapable. He was being offered a Faustian bargain, a pact with the devil dressed in the guise of a ridiculously inappropriate power fantasy.
He pictured the faces of his classmates, their confident smiles, their effortless displays of power. He imagined the looks of pity, the whispers, the unspoken judgment. The system was repulsive, a blatant violation of his morality, yet the allure of power was too strong, a siren song luring him toward the precipice of a moral abyss. The desperation gnawing at him, the years of feeling insignificant, the sting of his failure at the Awakening Ceremony – all these contributed to a desperate, almost reckless yearning for something more.