On a clear Monday morning, the crisp air carried the scent of freshly cut grass as the students of Hoshizuki High gathered at the outdoor track for gym class. Chatter filled the air, a mix of groans from those who dreaded physical activity and the excited banter of the more athletic students. Oliver stood among them, stretching absentmindedly as his mind wandered, drifting back to the strange sensation in his body.
It was subtle, like a current of warmth flowing beneath his skin, but unmistakably present. He'd felt it since waking up, but it was during homeroom that the sensation had become more pronounced—his senses sharper, his reflexes just a little more precise, and his awareness of his own body heightened.
'Is this real? Or am I imagining things?'
The coach, a burly man with a perpetually bored expression, clapped his hands to get the students' attention.
"Alright, today we're doing relay sprints. Get into teams of four. You know the drill."
A collective groan rippled through the class, but everyone began organizing themselves without much protest. Oliver ended up on a team with Kenji, a lanky but quick-footed guy who always placed well in gym, Yuto, a quiet but athletic student, and Ryota, a muscular jock who played soccer and took these exercises far too seriously.
As the teams formed, Oliver's gaze wandered—not toward the competition, but toward a small group of girls chatting to the side, adjusting their gym uniforms and tying their shoelaces. His eyes flickered over them—taking in the smooth curves of their legs, the bounce of their thighs with every movement, and the way their shirts clung to their figures just right.
'Damn…'
He wasn't a pervert—well, not too much of one—but he was still a guy, and he could appreciate a good view. His eyes lingered on one girl in particular—Mika, the school's volleyball ace. She stretched, her back arched in a way that made her shirt rise slightly, revealing a faint hint of toned abs.
Oliver swallowed hard.
Another girl, Ayane, was adjusting her socks, her long legs bending in a way that made his imagination run wild for a moment. He quickly shook his head, snapping out of his daze.
'Focus, dammit.'
A sharp whistle cut through the air, bringing him back to reality. The first runners took their positions.
The baton was passed.
One by one, runners darted across the track, their feet pounding against the pavement. Oliver's heartbeat quickened as his turn approached, not from nerves—but from a strange sense of anticipation. He wanted to see if what he was feeling was real.
Yuto sprinted toward him, baton outstretched.
Oliver grabbed it—the moment his fingers wrapped around the baton, something clicked inside him. His muscles reacted before his mind could even process it, propelling him forward in an instant. The world seemed clearer, his perception of the track sharper.
His strides felt effortless.
Each step carried him farther than he expected, his feet barely skimming the ground before pushing off again. He wasn't blindingly fast, nowhere near the level of a trained athlete, but it was... more. Just a little more than what his body should've been capable of.
The power surged through his legs, his balance unnaturally stable, his breathing steady. It was exhilarating.
He was faster than he should have been.
Not so much that it felt supernatural, but enough that he knew something had changed within him.
Oliver passed the baton to Ryota and slowed to a stop, his heart racing—not from exertion, but from realization. He barely registered his teammates clapping for him, and Kenji's voice barely reached his ears, something about how he was "finally taking gym seriously."
He turned and looked at the track, his gaze resting on the distance he had covered. His fingers twitched.
The warmth inside him was still there.
He clenched his fist, exhaling slowly.
Something had happened to him.
And he needed to figure out what.
---
By the time lunch rolled around, Oliver had barely spoken a word. His mind raced, replaying the events of gym class over and over. He could still feel the strange warmth inside him, something that lingered and buzzed with quiet anticipation.
Was it adrenaline? No. It hadn't faded like adrenaline did. It lingered, almost like it was waiting for him to acknowledge it.
Could it be Qi?
The thought was ridiculous. Cultivation, Qi—those were just fantasy concepts, right? He had read plenty of web novels and watched enough martial arts flicks to understand the idea, but in real life? Impossible.
...Right?
"Oi, Oliver, rooftop today?"
Kenji's voice broke through his thoughts.
Oliver blinked. "Rooftop?"
Kenji smirked, lowering his voice. "Kazu brought some real good stuff today. Imported stuff. He says it's top-shelf. You in?"
Oliver wasn't much of a smoker, but he wasn't about to turn down a chance to hang out. Besides, he needed to clear his head.
"Sure."
---
The rooftop was a secluded space, one of the few places where students could get fresh air without the constant supervision of teachers. It also served as an unspoken haven for those wanting to escape the suffocating monotony of school life.
When they arrived, a small group was already there. Kazu, the self-proclaimed connoisseur of all things illicit, grinned as he pulled out a sleek tin container.
"Boys, this right here? This is gold," he said, tapping the tin. "Grown in the mountains, cultivated by monks, or some shit like that."
Kenji scoffed. "Yeah, okay. You really believe that?"
"Man, just trust me."
They settled into a circle, the usual ritual unfolding—rolling, lighting, passing. The sharp, herbal scent of burning weed filled the air.
Oliver leaned against the wire-net railing, watching as Kenji took the first drag, exhaling with a satisfied sigh. Kazu followed, then the others, passing the joint around as they laughed and joked about nonsense.
Oliver wasn't particularly interested in smoking, but—
His body reacted before his mind even caught up.
The moment the scent reached him, something inside him shifted.
His dantian—the core of his being—shuddered.
A wave of warmth spread through him, subtle but undeniable. It wasn't just a reaction to the smoke; it was absorbing something from it.
His breath caught.
His vision sharpened.
His heartbeat slowed, steady and controlled.
It was faint, but he felt it—a small pool of energy deep within him, something foreign yet completely natural. It was Qi. It had to be.
Oliver leaned against the railing, forcing himself to stay calm.
He wasn't imagining things.
His Qi pool trembled faintly. It wasn't intense, but he could feel it—like a ripple in a still pond. His dantian reacted, shifting in response to the foreign substance in the air. It was different from the morning's experience, but unmistakable.
This wasn't a coincidence.
"Hey, Kazu, can I get a hit?"
Oliver's fingers twitched as he stared at the joint in Kazu's hand. He wasn't really interested in getting high, but if the weed was triggering a reaction in his dantian...
Then there was only one way to be sure.
"Yo, Oliver," Kazu called, raising an eyebrow. "Didn't peg you as the type, but you wanna try?"
The others chuckled, expecting him to decline. Oliver hesitated for only a second before stepping forward and plucking the joint from Kazu's fingers, ignoring the raised eyebrows and exchanged glances.
"Yeah," he said simply.
A few of them muttered in surprise. Ryota let out an amused scoff. "Damn, didn't think you had it in you."
Oliver brought the joint to his lips, inhaling slowly. The smoke was harsher than he expected, the burn searing down his throat and lungs. He coughed slightly, earning a round of laughter from the group.
"First time?" Kazu grinned.
Oliver didn't answer. He was already focusing inward.
There.
A pulse.
His dantian, small and dormant for who knew how long, reacted almost instantly. A faint green shimmer rippled within it, and for a brief second, he felt something new—a faint, refreshing energy seeping into his core. It wasn't much, barely a drop in an empty ocean.
His fingers twitched slightly. He was aware of everything—the way the smoke settled in his chest, the weight of the evening air pressing against his skin, the distant sound of laughter from the schoolyard below. Yet, his focus remained inward, fixed on the strange, undeniable truth forming before him.
This was real.
This wasn't some fleeting illusion or baseless fantasy.
He had felt something earlier from the secondhand smoke, but now? Now, he was certain. His body was absorbing something beyond just chemicals.
Kazu smirked at him, his sharp eyes catching the subtle shift in Oliver's demeanor. "Damn, Oliver. You sure you don't smoke?"
Oliver exhaled slowly, keeping his expression neutral. "Yeah. I don't."
Kazu let out a sharp laugh, nudging Hiro with an elbow. "Could've fooled me. You're taking that shit like a pro. First-timers usually cough their lungs out or take baby puffs, but you? You're practically savoring it."
Hiro chuckled, leaning back against the railing. "Shit, he's right. You look way too natural. What, you hiding a secret habit or something?"
Oliver gave a half-smile, brushing off the comment. He wasn't about to explain that he wasn't focusing on the high but rather on the strange, inexplicable sensation within him.
Instead of answering, he took another hit.
Another pulse.
It was growing, this small pool of energy. Faint, but real.
Jun stretched, lazily rolling his shoulders, his body language exuding a casual indifference as he leaned back against the railing of the rooftop. The cool wind tousled his hair, but his expression remained skeptical. "Man, I still think Kazu's full of shit. No way this stuff is as expensive as he claims. I've had better from a buddy who smuggled it in from who knows where."
Kazu scoffed in mock indignation, his lips curling into a smirk as he took the joint from Oliver's hand, twirling it between his fingers with exaggerated flair. The faint glow of the setting sun cast an orange hue on his features, making the flickering ember at the end of the joint glow even brighter. "Oh, this?" Kazu said, puffing out his chest slightly, as if he were a connoisseur of fine art. "This is top-tier, my guy. Imported. Cultivated. Refined. This ain't that gas station crap. This is the kind of quality you gotta pay for."
Oliver watched the exchange, half-focused on the banter, half-lost in his own thoughts. His mind was still buzzing, the haze of the weed beginning to settle into his body like a comfortable weight. He could feel it settling deep in his chest, wrapping around his limbs, a pleasant warmth that felt almost like a second skin. But something deeper stirred beneath it—a sensation he couldn't quite place, something he had never felt before.
Jun raised an eyebrow, his arms crossed as he shot Kazu a skeptical glance. "Imported? Cultivated? Refined, huh? Sounds like some fancy sales pitch. Let me guess—you've got a 'guy,' right?"
Kazu grinned, leaning back against the wall, his tone turning more smug. "I don't have a guy. I am the guy. You should be thanking me, Jun. The next time you're looking for some good shit, you know where to go."
Oliver's gaze flickered to Kazu as he took another hit, inhaling deeply before handing the joint back. He didn't care much for the back-and-forth banter; his focus was on the strange undercurrent he could feel pulsing through him. It was subtle, but undeniable. The air around him seemed to hum with energy, his senses sharpened to an almost unnatural degree. He could hear the wind rustling through the trees below, the distant hum of city traffic, and even the faint shuffle of footsteps within the school building. But it wasn't just the sounds—it was a deeper awareness of his own body, a shift in how he felt within his skin.
"What about you, Oliver?" Kazu teased, eyeing him with a smirk. "You feeling anything yet?"
Oliver blinked, suddenly pulled out of his reverie. He didn't quite know how to answer. He had been so wrapped up in the strange sensation of energy moving within him that he hadn't considered how it might look to others. Was he acting strange? Did he seem different? He glanced at the others, trying to focus.
"I—uh, I don't know," he mumbled, unsure how to explain the subtle sensation that was building within him. His mind wasn't fully clear, but there was something pulling at the edges of his awareness, an almost electrical hum deep inside him, thrumming softly.
Jun laughed, nudging Kazu with his elbow. "Look at him, Kazu. The guy's clearly zoning out. First time smoking and he's acting like he's having an epiphany or something."
Kazu snickered, flicking the joint between his fingers before taking another slow drag. "I wouldn't blame him. This stuff's potent. I told you. It gets into your head."
Oliver, still not fully ready to admit what he was feeling, took another hit to play along. The smoke burned his lungs, but instead of coughing, he found himself drawing it in deeper, as though his body wanted it. He held the smoke in for a moment, then exhaled in a long, slow stream, watching as the smoke coiled into the air, twisting and spiraling like tendrils of thought.
But when the smoke left his body, it wasn't just a feeling of lightness or a relaxing buzz. It was like something had unlocked inside of him. The sensation in his chest, at the core of his being, shifted, pushing outward with a force he didn't understand. His body felt both heavy and light at the same time, a tension that was unfamiliar, like he was on the verge of something, but didn't know what it was.
"Oliver?" Kazu's voice broke through his thoughts, more urgent now. "You good? You've been staring at nothing for like... two minutes."
Oliver blinked rapidly, shaking his head to clear the fog. "Yeah... yeah, I'm fine."