Middle school was… different.
Not because the buildings were bigger or the classrooms colder. Not because lessons were harder. It was different because people were bigger, more complex, and the emotions around them sharper.
Negativity wasn't hidden here—it was out in the open, layered over every interaction. Kids shoved each other without warning. Arguments flared over small mistakes. Rumors spread faster than homework. Jealousy tasted heavier than any chocolate or candy you could buy.
Ren noticed it instantly.
At first, it was subtle. A tight squeeze of anger in the hallway when someone got pushed. A spike of embarrassment when a kid dropped a book. By the third week, the low hum of energy he'd noticed at the end of elementary school became impossible to ignore. His range was expanding, almost imperceptibly, but it was happening.
City walks, hero activity, crowded streets, tense corridors—these all became routine sources of energy. Not through manipulation, not through pushing. Just presence, observation, and letting it flow naturally.
It was during one of these routine walks to the city edge that he first noticed her.
Nejire was sitting alone on the school rooftop, knees drawn to her chest, hair catching the sunlight, a little messy from the wind. Normally, someone like her would have stood out, and people would have whispered about her—or avoided her entirely. But not today. Today she seemed… absorbed in watching a small bird hop along the edge.
Ren stepped onto the roof quietly, letting his shadow fall near her without startling her.
"Hey," he said.
Her head snapped up, eyes wide and bright, scanning him.
"You're… not one of the older students teasing me?" she asked bluntly, her tone sharp but not unkind.
Ren shook his head. "Nope."
She relaxed slightly, but only enough for her curiosity to bloom. "You… have an interesting posture. Your hands—like, the way they curl when you lean on something… Do you train?" She tilted her head, studying him. "No, seriously. You're taller than you look, your shoulders are… hmm… narrower than I expected, but your legs are long…"
Ren blinked, unsure how to respond. "Uh… I do some training."
She nodded rapidly, as if that explained everything. Then she paused and added, "Do you ever feel the… weird tension around people? Like it sticks to them, even if they're laughing?"
Her bluntness caught him off guard. Most kids would've laughed at something like that, or ignored her entirely. Nejire's curiosity was so direct it could feel invasive, but there was no malice.
Ren leaned back a little, trying to match her casual tone. "Yeah. I notice things."
Nejire's lips curved into the faintest smile. "See! I thought I wasn't imagining it. Everyone else pretends it's invisible. But you… you actually notice."
"Not everything," Ren said. "Just… enough."
Her gaze sharpened. "I get that. It's like—sometimes you know someone's upset before they even move. And if you're close, it's almost… too easy to feel it." She shivered slightly, then laughed awkwardly. "I guess I'm weird for noticing that, huh?"
Ren shook his head. "No. Makes sense."
She tilted her head, still watching him with curiosity and energy, the way a scientist examines a specimen. "You're… kind of fun to talk to. But you don't talk much. Do you… like being quiet?"
"I like observing," Ren said simply.
She laughed, not at him, not meanly—just soft, like someone testing a word for the first time. "Of course. Observing. Makes sense. People who notice things often don't feel like talking."
For a few minutes, they just sat there, letting the city stretch before them. The sun dipped lower, painting the horizon gold and orange.
"You're… not like the others," she said after a pause. "Most kids would be scared of… feelings like these, or just ignore them. But you… you just… let them come to you."
Ren shrugged, letting a small smile form. "I don't worry about it."
Nejire studied him, brow furrowed slightly, and then leaned back against the floor, arms crossed. "I think… I like that. But don't get used to thinking everyone's like you. Most people… they're not. I've learned that the hard way."
Ren nodded silently, understanding without needing details. He didn't press.
And just like that, a thread of connection formed. No forced friendship, no oversharing. Just recognition.
Ren didn't linger long. Rooftops weren't his usual spot. But he made a note: quiet corners like this could be safe for both of them. Observing without interference. Letting the chaos and tension of middle school swirl below, while up here it felt almost… manageable.
Later, as he walked home, he reflected quietly. His energy had never been so easy to gather. The chaos around the school, the subtle frustrations, the small bursts of anger and fear—it all drifted to him naturally.
He didn't push, didn't manipulate. He just… absorbed, storing it quietly. Enough for training later. Enough to experiment safely. Enough to have reserves when the real challenges began.
And somewhere on the rooftop, a curious, blunt girl had noticed him too. Not enough yet to be friends, not yet. But one day, that might change.
Ren smiled faintly to himself. Middle school had begun. Chaos, opportunity, and observation—his world had expanded. And he felt ready.