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The Barrier

  “Hey. You’re Meili, right?" A boy's voice whispered from the desk beside mine.

  I turned to find a pair of curious scarlet eyes. It was Ventus. We both sat at the back of the classroom, and our English teacher, Mrs. Kaya, was too busy rattling off random details about her personal life to notice us talking.

  "That's me. And you're Ventus?"

  As he nodded in response, I gestured subtly toward the teacher. "I guess it's been kind of boring for you, too, right?" I asked. "I thought we would do something interesting today, but she's spent half the time talking about herself."

  "I wonder if it's intentional," he said in agreement, laughing softly. "I think Mrs. Kaya's only supposed to go over the syllabus today, first day of school and all that, and now that we're done…"

  "She doesn't want to give us a free period?"

  "Exactly," Ventus confirmed. "From her perspective, we all ditched class for the tournament yesterday, even though it's a classic school tradition. Maybe she wants to get back at us."

  I glanced back toward our teacher, who had moved on from talking about her spouse and children to the subject of her three cats, two dogs, and pet python.

  That actually made a lot of sense.

  "But anyway," he continued, moving up from a whisper but still speaking quietly. "That's not what I wanted to talk about. Doc said you're the one who saved me from being stuck in a wheelchair a week ago. I want to thank you."

  I smiled. Helping Ventus had gone as well as it possibly could have. It was probably the event that caused my ability to evolve; plus, I hadn't had to fight anybody to do it.

  "Don't worry about it," I replied. "I'm glad I could help. That Kralik guy was being a total psycho. You guys have some sort of prior history, right?"

  "No, no, even if it wasn't a big deal for you - wait - You heard that part?" He slapped his forehead softly and groaned. "Man, Kralik always twists the truth in such an awful way whenever he gets the chance."

  "Is that right?" I leaned forward, hands interlaced under my chin when he didn't go on. "Tell me what actually happened, then. Don't just leave me hanging."

  "It's not that big a deal," he said, rubbing the back of his head. "Back in middle school, we were in two different groups. We would get into a lot of fights, but I started some, and he started some. It wasn't one-sided like he made it out to be."

  "Then why was he so bent on getting revenge? He set up a literal ambush."

  "Well, I want to say he's just an asshole with natural ego issues... but that's not being fair," Ventus answered with a sigh. "Kralik has an older, high-tier brother, Jakub. His parents are both elites, but I think they had ultra-high expectations for him thanks to Jakub, and now he has a nasty complex about not measuring up."

  I frowned. "...But that doesn't really have anything to do with you."

  He shrugged. "I was thinking the exact same thing. Even if he didn't lose a single time against me in middle school, his ability potential would be the same. He has nothing to blame but bad luck."

  At this point, I noticed that the entire back half of the classroom was eavesdropping on our conversation, which was probably much more interesting to them than our teacher's ramblings.

  "What are you guys doing?" I whispered harshly to them. "She's going to notice where everyone's looking!"

  Back in my old world, my warning would have gotten, at most, a few people to look away. But simply at the sound of my voice, some ten-odd students turned to face the teacher at the speed of light. Mrs. Kaya didn't notice a thing. It was almost creepy, the way they moved immediately and all at once.

  I looked to Ventus, bewildered. "What was that? I'm not complaining, but the way everybody looked away, it's almost like they were…"

  "Afraid of you?" He supplied.

  "Yes! Exactly."

  He gave me a suppressed look, like he thought I was being an idiot but didn't want it to show. "...Did you consider that they might actually be afraid of you? You came second in the Freshman Tournament, and your ability is super intimidating. Plus, you squashed Zeke and Holden like bugs. Those two rank in the top five of our year."

  Seriously?

  "What do they think I'm going to do, stab them in the middle of class? Also, what do you mean 'rank in the top five'? Nobody in our year has fought an official rank match yet."

  "First of all, there's a rumor going around online that Kuyo, the reigning Jack, stabbed someone in class back when he was a second-year," Ventus replied. "So I don't really blame them-"

  I buried my face in my hands.

  "-And even though there isn't an official ranking list, everyone already knows who the strongest in our year are and how they compare with each other," he finished.

  "At least 'feared' usually comes with 'respected,'" I managed, straightening up in my chair. "So what are the first-year rankings, then? Arlo's number one, but who's second?"

  "People aren't too sure about the number two position," Ventus admitted. "Still, you and Cecile are clearly two and three. Zeke and Holden fill in the rest of the top five."

  He'd used 'people aren't too sure' instead of 'I'm not too sure,' which avoided his personal opinion. He was being conscious of my higher rank, in other words, not wanting to make any judgment about my strength or show potential disrespect.

  I decided to try to understand him a little more.

  "That makes sense... But there's not much of a difference between Holden and everyone else who got knocked out in the first round of the finals," I observed. "You and two others are 3.0s, if I remember correctly, so he's only 0.1 stronger."

  "I don't mind," he said. "The spot should still go to the person with the highest level, even if it's only by a bit."

  "So you don't feel like you were snubbed?" I joked. "You seemed pretty hung up on your greatness when you were fighting Kralik and his friends."

  His face flushed.

  "I didn't know you were listening that closely… Oh man, I say some pretty heated stuff when I'm fighting, but I was on a whole different level that day."

  "Don't stress about it. I'm mostly just messing with you." Then I finally got to the point: "You would never say that kind of stuff unless someone tried to hurt you first, right?"

  "Yeah. Of course."

  Makes sense, I thought. Given the circumstances, it made sense that Ventus had been uniquely frustrated and desperate. He didn't seem like the type to continuously lord his status over lower tiers for a power thrill. But it still bothered me. 'It's in my blood to be better than you' - those were his words that day. It was clear he hadn't meant 'stronger than you,' which would have been uncontestably true, but 'better than you.'

  And even if he'd said it while flustered, and angry, that didn't mean he was lying. He had meant it that way.

  Back in my old world, the equality of mankind had been preached above anything else. To call yourself 'better' than anyone was a hard statement to make, and to give a reason like 'It's in my genes' was tantamount to blasphemy. The existence of natural talent or genius was already controversial - and beyond that, someone with less talent could still close the gap by working harder.

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  Hard work beats talent when talent fails to work hard. That was how the old saying went.

  But it wasn't really true, not in this world. Here, people were often born with inherent ability potentials as low as 1.5 or 1.6. They could even be born without an ability altogether. Destined to be a low-tier from birth, they would be unable to find a decent job, buy property in a safe neighborhood, or get a loan to start a business... along with an infinite number of smaller roadblocks.

  Banks considered them too 'untrustworthy' and 'fragile' to lend to. Employers thought of them as weak liabilities who would drag others down and ruin the company culture. And even if a low-tier family somehow earned enough to purchase property in a good district, the community there would often isolate or harass them until they moved.

  No matter how intelligent or hardworking, someone with those disadvantages could never compete with people like Arlo, Seraphina, Remi...

  Or even me.

  I realized why I was thinking about Ventus' words so much, even though the sentiment wasn't new.

  They applied just as much to me, only now it was the other way around, because I had the potential to become a high-tier. Thanks to nothing but my lucky genetics, I was better off than 98% of people. Billions of people would surely murder and rape if it let them take my place. Instead of the barrier of genetic potential everyone else faced, the only thing holding me back was myself.

  And still, I had the gall to whine, mope, and complain about the violence and unfairness of the world. There I was, depressed and angry because there were upperclassmen at my elite private school who were stronger than me, and fighting made me feel bad. I had gotten too lucky to stay so pathetic.

  I turned back to Ventus, who had probably been sitting there awkwardly as I stared into space.

  "Sorry about that," I said. "I was just thinking... Do you think of yourself as a vengeful person, Ventus?"

  He looked back at me, slightly startled.

  "Err - I guess? I'm not the type to forgive and forget all that easily if that's what you mean," he answered. "But if this is about Kralik, I can't do anything to him. He's always hanging around with the two that ambushed me last time, and I'm not strong enough to take all three of them at once."

  I raised an eyebrow at him. "So what you're really saying is that you want to beat them up, but you're not strong enough to do it alone. Is that right?"

  "I mean, I wouldn't phrase it like that, but you're not wrong. Wait..." He blinked a few times. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

  I hesitated slightly before nodding. "Yeah. I'll help you get back at them. They probably know that I'm the one who helped you, so any problems they have with you, they have with me."

  Slowly, his face lit up like a kid at Disney World, eyes almost sparkling. He stood and wrapped me in a hug so quickly that I could barely react.

  "Thank you! Thank you so much!" He said, arms still wrapped around my sides. "You have no idea how much of a relief that is. Those idiots were so obviously out of line, but I couldn't even do anything back. I've never felt so powerless in my whole life."

  Of course, he wasn't whispering or speaking quietly but fully shouting, and we quickly attracted the attention of the entire class... Including the teacher. I pushed him back awkwardly and straightened out in my seat, trying to play it off as if nothing had happened, but I found Mrs. Kaya's gaze locked onto us the moment I turned to face her.

  She gave us a strained, painfully sweet smile. "Look. I get that the first few days of school at Wellston can be challenging to adjust to. But there's no need to be disrespectful, understood?"

  "We understand, ma'am," Ventus said with fake remorse.

  "...Good." She sighed. "Alright then, where was I? Right, right. Twenty years ago, back when I was a student..."

  We glanced at each other, silently concluding that we would continue our discussion later.

  How would she have reacted, just then, if his level was 1.5?

  ***Beautiful***

  Ventus Song didn't tend to think of himself as a follower or hanger-on. It was just the opposite: back in his small local middle school, he'd almost always been the strongest student in the room. It had possibly inflated his ego a bit, having his teachers constantly giving him special treatment and being the one his friends always ran to whenever they needed help.

  As he finished getting his food at the lunch line and scanned Wellston's massive school cafeteria, Ventus saw that he had only been a mid-sized fish in a tiny pond. Simply standing in place, he found dozens of students stronger than himself, all of whom could put him in the dirt if they felt the slightest urge. Not to mention that these weren't even the best of the best. No, they were top-level mid-tiers and lower elites, not even powerful enough to make it into the Wellston top twenty. They were really just regular, ordinary students - and since they were nothing special, he sure as hell wasn't much of anything, either!

  Therefore, despite not identifying as a follower or hanger-on, he had no problems following Meili around to find a place to sit.

  I'm probably one of the lucky ones, Ventus thought, trailing her by a few steps as they crossed into the seating area. Most of the other freshies are cramming themselves into the corner tables. I guess they're even more scared than I am.

  His self-satisfaction wasn't long-lasting, though. He grew increasingly tense the closer they got to the middle of the room. They were rapidly approaching the central cluster of tables, seats reserved for the high-ranking students. Even an utterly fresh first-year like him understood that!

  "Hey, uh, Meili… Are you heading somewhere specific?" He asked, glancing around. "All the tables in the area are kinda occupied, and I don't feel great about just plopping myself down, if you get what I mean."

  She nodded, then pointed to a small table slightly away from the center. "I was planning on sitting over there. I totally get it. I recognize some people from the top 20 list around us, and I don't want to mess with them any more than you do."

  He felt a brief moment of relief before realizing who she wanted them to sit with.

  "Wait… Isn't that Arlo? That's not comforting at all! Didn't he beat both of us to a pulp in the tournament yesterday?"

  "He did. But I don't think he's the type to start fights with people he's already defeated," she replied. "As soon as it became clear I couldn't break his barrier in yesterday's match, he immediately started eyeing up the King and Queen. I think he's more interested in becoming a royal than brutalizing small fry."

  "It's terrifying that he would consider you 'small fry,'" Ventus said, shaking his head in disbelief. "But he's supposed to be a 4.3, right? I guess it's true that every other first-year in the school is just a weakling to him."

  Meili simply grinned in response, then walked up and pulled out a chair in the spot across from Arlo's.

  "Hey. Arlo, Right? I don't know if you remember us, but you totally kicked our asses yesterday. Can we sit here?"

  The short blonde boy simply glanced at the two of them, his mouth stuffed full with food, and shrugged his shoulders. Meili took that to mean a yes and sat down, plopping her food tray on the table. Ventus rushed to copy her.

  "I remember your names," Arlo said after a long moment, finally swallowing his bite. "Obviously. You both did decently in that little tournament yesterday… Though I'm confused as to why you would approach me like this."

  "What do you mean?" He asked. "Was there another way you expected us to introduce ourselves?"

  Arlo let out a slight snicker. "Fine, if you don't have a problem with me being blunt about it… Why aren't you two off somewhere with Cecile, planning your revenge on me?"

  Ventus didn't get it. He looked at Meili, finding she looked just as confused as he felt.

  "I'm not sure why Cecile's angry at you, but we don't have any issues," Meili replied, after taking a sip of water. "Were we supposed to be angry at you or something? You beat both of us fairly, and I don't think you went out of your way to hurt us more than necessary or anything like that."

  "Huh." Arlo stared back at her thoughtfully. "I guess I never thought of it like that – It's just that everyone who made the finals was probably a royal back in middle school, so it seemed likely that they wouldn't be able to take a loss."

  He took another bite of his sandwich before continuing. "I live across the hall from Zeke, and I caught him ranting about getting back at you, Meili, for humiliating him. Not to mention that Cecile was unmistakably analyzing my ability for weaknesses after I crushed her. I thought you would be the same."

  Oh. So that's why. In a way, Ventus could almost understand them. Nobody wanted to lose, obviously, and he didn't feel fantastic that Arlo had put him down so easily.

  But to get so bitter and angry from a singular loss (after winning many matches before that) seemed incredibly self-centered. How would Cecile and Zeke feel, he wondered, if every single person they beat in that tournament came after them for revenge?

  Meili seemed to have taken the news far worse than he did, judging by her expression of frustration and disbelief.

  "That's insane. Zeke could've just surrendered once I had him pinned against the wall, and he still thinks I'm the one who did something wrong? Most of his injuries were from his own stubbornness!"

  "Hey, at least you're way stronger than that guy," Ventus said, attempting to comfort her. "If you cut him up enough times, he'll probably give up and go take his anger out on some random low-tier instead of you."

  "Right..." She drew out the word.

  Strangely enough, she didn't seem encouraged at all.

  Arlo nodded in agreement. "True. It's not as though Cecile is strong enough to injure me seriously, but I dislike the current ranking system. It seems unreasonable that lower-level students can endlessly challenge those higher than them in the hierarchy, but the reverse isn't allowed."

  "That rule has actually been a massive problem for me," Ventus said, eager to find common ground with him. "See, back a week ago when I was moving in…"

  He managed to start a surprisingly natural conversation. Mr. '#1 first-year' was stiff and arrogant and overly formal, but ultimately not so haughty that he'd turn up his nose at a 3.0. Meanwhile, Meili was totally different. He'd started noticing this in class, but she was weirdly easy to talk to, despite being a 14-year old elite-tier who could have only been fawned over in middle school.

  (Arlo did seem significantly more interested in speaking to Meili than him, but that was really just to be expected).

  The three of them talked for the rest of their lunch period. Ventus could faintly feel that something was bothering Meili, with the vaguely troubled look that would sporadically appear on her face, but his attention shifted to his classes once the bell rang. They went their separate ways before he could ask her what it was.

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