I walked through the quiet streets, the night air cool against my skin. My hands tingled, not from fear this time, but from anticipation. I had upgraded my skills, unlocked Enhanced Perception, and even repaired a few broken things around the neighborhood. Little victories. Tiny reminders that I was… improving.
"Observation improves efficiency," Notice said softly. "Your small victories accumulate."
I nodded, even though it couldn't see me. But something nagged at the back of my mind. The girl on the staircase, the broken gate, my mom's chaos… it wasn't enough. No matter how skilled I became, the world wasn't going to stop being broken. Could I really fix things that mattered? Could I even fix myself?
I shook my head, trying to push the doubt away. For now, the victories mattered. I focused on a rusted bicycle abandoned by the curb. With a few twists and adjustments, it was whole again. It rolled smoothly under my hands, and for a moment, I felt… capable.
"Confidence grows," Notice reminded me. "But so do challenges. You must remain aware."
I frowned. Challenges. I had a feeling the next one wouldn't be as simple as a bicycle or a gate. Something deeper, something that would test not only my skills but me—my judgment, my courage, maybe even my morality.
I leaned against the fence, taking a deep breath. My hands were steady now. My mind clearer. But the doubt lingered, sharp and persistent, like a shadow I couldn't quite shake.
I clenched my fists. If the world wanted to throw something at me, I'd be ready. Maybe not perfect, maybe not unbroken—but ready enough to try.
"Prepare," Notice said quietly. "The first true test approaches."
My stomach twisted. Excitement. Fear. Anticipation. A strange mixture that made my heart pound like it wanted to break free from my chest.
I nodded, almost to myself. Whatever came next, I'd face it. Not perfectly. Not unafraid. But as Mizu—the one who had finally started to notice himself.
And for the first time, I felt like I could handle more than just broken gates and abandoned pianos.