Chapter 3.

The bell rings, signaling the start of the Blessing Education class. It’s one of the few spaces where we’re allowed to openly use our special abilities, which always stirs excitement among the students.

Walking by my side is Tatsuya, boasting as usual about how powerful his ice blessing is. He tells me for the umpteenth time how he accidentally froze his dog when he was 8 years old.

“It was incredible, dude. Sparky wouldn’t stop barking that afternoon, just barking and barking. I was playing video games and couldn’t concentrate. I yelled at him to shut up, but he kept on barking. Then I felt that wave of cold coming out of my body. Bam! Sparky was frozen on the spot, like a howling ice statue. My parents went crazy; they had to defrost him in the bathtub. From that day, I knew my gift was powerful,” he recounts proudly, hoping to impress me with his story.

I pretend to listen with utmost interest, nodding at the right moments.

“Believe me, I’ll freeze the entire training field in an instant. None of you losers will be able to match that. I’ll show you all who’s boss,” he raises his voice defiantly, drawing attention from other students around us.

I ignore his bravado and look away. In the distance, Fumiko waves at me flirtatiously and I have to wave back, just to avoid her complaints later. Behind her, Tsuneo walks with his head down, clearly intimidated by the competitive atmosphere. He doesn’t have Tatsuya’s armor of cheek nor Fumiko’s silky social skin; Tsuneo is made of vulnerability in a world that thrives on confidence.

Upon reaching the courtyard, we line up orderly while Professor Sazama, a burly and retired hero, calls roll in a martial manner. Then, with a voice worthy of his nickname, “Thunder,” he tells us to form a straight line before addressing the group.

“Alright, snots! For warm-up, we’re going to do an exercise to assess the control of your blessings.”

A murmur of excitement runs through the class.

“You’ll each go through that course over there. It consists of destroying the moving targets, dodging obstacles, and finally using your blessing to cross the pool to the finish line. You have three minutes to complete the test. Let’s see what you’re made of, band of useless ones.”

Everyone glances at each other challengingly. Tatsuya cracks his knuckles with a cocky smile, eager to crush the competition and emerge as the undisputed alpha of the pack. Fumiko fixes her glossy blonde hair into a high ponytail, stretching her slender legs to warm up before showing off her abilities. Tsuneo keeps to the end of the line, staring at the ground, clearly wishing to remain unnoticed as long as possible.

“We’ll start in alphabetical order! Hirayama, move it, you’re first.”

The robust boy moves forward clumsily, turned into a mass of rock by his geological blessing. He bumbles through the obstacles, knocking some over in the process, but manages to complete the circuit just before the timer sounds.

Clearly his stone conversion gift isn’t the most suitable for a course requiring agility, but Hirayama tries hard to shine in front of his peers, looking to impress the pretty Mitsuru watching him from the sidelines.

One by one, the rest of us go, showing off varying degrees of skill. Some shoot ice stakes, searing electric discharges, and other abilities at the moving targets. Others, like Asuka, resort to cunning, using illusions and teleportation to mislead and dodge obstacles in the blink of an eye.

Fumiko is one of the fastest, thanks to her super speed blessing. She zooms through the course like a bolt of lightning, becoming a golden blur nearly imperceptible to the human eye. She finishes in under a minute, to spare. She winks at me playfully on her way back, seeking to impress me.

Tatsuya, to the envy of many, also completes the circuit with no problems, elegantly freezing everything around him. He returns with his annoying smirk of self-satisfaction, pleased to have proven himself as one of the best in the class.

“Piece of cake! This is no challenge for someone like me. I’m the next Ice Man, you’ll see,” he brags, looking for a pat on the back that I give him mechanically.

Finally, it’s my turn. I walk calmly under everyone’s watchful eyes. Tsuneo whispers a nervous “good luck” as I pass by him. I take my position at the starting line. I take a deep breath and release my blessing. My hands ignite with flames, but I don’t feel their heat. The fire doesn’t unsettle me; I am its master. I control its power effortlessly.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

The targets start moving. My flames incinerate them instantly. It’s not adrenaline, it’s pure and lethal precision. I leap over obstacles nimbly as flames dance obediently to my will. I hear gasps of amazement in my wake, but I’m not looking to impress them. I just want to complete the test efficiently, without dramatic fanfare.

I reach the pool and boil it with the contact of my blazing skin. I cross the steam walking unhurriedly, indifferent to the chaos I cause in my path, like Moses at the Red Sea. Nothing excites me, not even my own power. But upon exiting, I feign a face of fatigue.

Everyone is looking at me with wide-open eyes, clearly impressed by my performance. Except Tatsuya, of course. His jaw clenches in a nervous tic when our gazes meet, and I can almost hear his teeth grinding. I sense the waves of envy radiating from his body.

For a fraction of a second, I see a visceral hatred flash in the depths of his eyes. He’s furious because I’ve stolen the spotlight with insulting ease. But then he relaxes his expression and whistles in support, flashing a smile as fake as himself. I return an empty smile and turn to observe the other reactions.

Fumiko looks at me. Her cheeks are tinged with red, highlighting her wide-open eyes. She seems like a porcelain doll, with that blush and her harlot mouth forming a perfect “o.” She’s clearly impressed. Beside her, Tsuneo smiles at me shyly. The corner of his lips trembles, betraying his nervousness. But I detect a glimmer of admiration in his gaze.

“Excellent, just as I expected!” exclaims the professor. Then he checks his list and calls the next name. “Tsuneo Kamiya, quick, you’re up.”

I perform a little theatrical bow, accepting the applause for my flawless performance. Then, with the grace of a sated predator, I return to my place with slow and calm steps.

As I walk, I glance sideways at Tsuneo. He’s frozen in his spot, with shoulders slumped in a defeated posture. All his body language radiates anxiety. It’s clear he’s dying of fear at the prospect of failing in front of everybody.

When I pass next to him, I casually lean in to whisper in his ear:

“You’ll do fine, trust yourself.”

Of course, I don’t really believe it. I’m convinced he’ll make a ridiculous spectacle of himself. But I disguise it well behind a mask of kindness. Tsuneo looks at me with hopeful eyes, eager to believe in my words of encouragement. He nods slightly, though doubt is reflected on his face.

With hesitant steps, he heads to the front, towards his imminent humiliation. Some boys sneer in low voices at seeing him so terrified. It’s a pathetic spectacle but inevitable. Someone like Tsuneo is destined to fail.

Suddenly, I decide to intervene. With my best leader’s voice, I raise it so everyone can hear me:

“Don’t let them intimidate you, show your power.”

Tsuneo looks at me in surprise. He straightens his back a bit, lifting his chin in a defiant gesture. He takes several deep breaths, trying to calm his nerves. Finally, he nods to the professor to indicate he’s ready.

Tsuneo adopts a firm combat stance, with fists clenched at his sides. His arms start to shine with a yellowish light. It’s his blessing manifesting physically. The glow illuminates his face, highlighting his determined expression.

“Let’s go!” he yells before dashing off in a quick sprint.

He destroys the first targets with a single precise strike, without slowing down. The shockwave shakes the place, knocking some students to the ground. He jumps and dodges the next obstacles with superhuman agility, propelled by his blessing.

In a matter of seconds, he reaches the pool and leaps across it with a powerful jump that no common human could achieve. Then he lands breathless but unharmed on the other side, completing the challenge with insulting perfection.

My classmates cheer for him, clearly as impressed by this unsuspected ability as I am, although for very different reasons. Even Tatsuya seems to be experiencing a similar impact. Nobody expected Tsuneo, the simple and scared Tsuneo, to be able to complete the course with such skill.

“Incredible, Tsuneo! You’ve overcome the challenge to perfection!” congratulates the professor, as shocked as the rest.

Tsuneo returns to my side. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes still faintly shine from the energy. He smiles at me shyly. I give him a friendly pat on the shoulder, like the “good” companion I am.

“Well done, Tsuneo, that was excellent! I didn’t know you had such good control over your blessing.”

But the truth is that I cannot conceive how someone as pathetic and simple as Tsuneo has managed to master such power. His fragile appearance is as deceptive as his insipid personality. I never imagined him capable of anything remotely useful.

“Thanks. It’s not much, just basic physical enhancement. It’s much worse than any other blessing in my family,” he explains, shrugging his shoulders modestly.

I examine his face more closely, looking for some hint of the strength he has shown. But I find nothing extraordinary in his bland features or his scrawny build. Tsuneo is a perfect nobody, the antithesis of a hero, the stereotype of the powerful. Yet, he possesses a blessing that could catapult him far if he used it correctly.

He is an unexpected hurdle, an unanticipated variable. Tsuneo is no longer just any pawn; his potential usefulness or threat has just increased tenfold in my eyes. I must make sure that power remains under my control, and not his own.

“Nonsense, you did great. Don’t underestimate your talent,” I insist, patting him on the back.

Tsuneo blushes even more, clearly not used to receiving compliments. He murmurs a barely audible “thank you” and averts his gaze.

The rest of the class goes by without major incidents. My other classmates perform their tests, but no one manages to overshadow Tsuneo’s feat. At the end, the professor informs us thoughtfully that the next session will test our abilities with an even greater challenge.

I detect the implicit threat in his words. He’s warning us that he will no longer tolerate mediocrity. He wants to see our true potential manifested.