Chương 6: The Intern

"There's a Bio exam next Wednesday, right Meili? Do you wanna study for it together?"

"Duude, Arlo! That move you pulled off in dodgeball today was super cool. The coach was completely stunned. He never even saw it coming!

"Um, by the way, my older sister's throwing a big party this weekend at our house. Are you interested, Meili? She's actually a pre-med student at Wellston U, and I know you're interested in medicine..."

"Oh, that's right! Me and a couple of the guys are gonna go watch that new movie, The Protector, on Friday. It's crazy - the main character's ability is super similar to yours, Arlo! We actually saved you a ticket in case you wanted to come with..."

"I can't believe that stupid bitch tried to challenge you. She's barely even an elite-tier, but she thinks she's all that, what a joke! Honestly, Meili, I have no idea why all of these kids have such a problem with you. You never even did anything!"

"Wait, is it official now, Arlo? Are you on the top ten list? Man, that's so cool. You might be the only freshman in history to do that! I kinda feel bad for that guy you unseated, but he had it coming for being dumb enough to accept your challenge."...

"Hey, Arlo!"

"Hi, Meili!"

"Heya, Arlo!"

"Morning, Meili!"...

"Arlo..."

"Meili..."

"Arlo..."

"Meili..."... As Dr. Darren and I hastily paced around the lab, gathering materials for a new batch of healing remedies, I couldn't help but admire how far medical science had come in this world. It was likely out of necessity, which made me feel a little sour, but the feeling was weak next to a sense of awe that wouldn't fade. Everywhere I looked, there were chemicals and ingredients that didn't exist in my past life, the kind of stuff you would only see in science fiction shows.

"Flesh stimulants, check!"

"Twenty grams of oxycodone, check!"

"Beakers, check!"

"Synthetic platelets, check!"

"Did you also grab the pain-erasers?" He called.

"Pain-erasers, check!" He nodded approvingly, and I hurried back toward the central medical ward. There had been a seven-person brawl between two groups of evenly matched upperclassmen earlier in the day, and they'd been barely cognizant enough to drag their battered bodies to the infirmary before collapsing onto the beds. Christ, that's a lot of blood. I wonder how many bedsheets we go through in a day? After handing Darren the materials, I noted once again that he looked no better than the day I first met him.

He had the same sunken face, the same dark spots under his eyes, the same unruly, hastily styled hair. And despite moving quickly, there was a recognizable fatigue to his stride - the same exhaustion I saw in my mother after multiple 12-hour shifts in the ER. The first two months of the school year hadn't been great for his work-life balance. So I felt even worse for barging into his office and attempting to dump my life's issues on his head. My guilt was why I had chosen to help him out in the first place.

Though, in my defense, Darren had dual-specialized in psychiatry, so it wasn't like he was unqualified. The big problem, put simply, was that my lunch table had become too crowded. Quite the benign issue if you phrased it all cutely like that, but-"What used to be three people is now a goddamn group of nineteen," I groaned, taking the opportunity to vent now that my job was done.

"There's not physically enough space at the table to fit all our lunches, so kids are stealing plastic stools from the janitorial closet and pulling them up to our table!"

"I can't. Even. Remember. Their. Names."

"I still don't see why there's an issue," Darren muttered.

"I was more of an outcast during high school, and this is a matter of preference, but don't kids usually think of extreme popularity as a good thing?" I gave a whine, some immature noise of protest. It was half acting as a fourteen-year-old girl and half totally serious.

"But there are so many of them," I moaned.

"It's obvious they all want something out of me... I already told you this whole elite-tier thing is super new - ever since my ability evolved, even talking with people feels unfamiliar!"

"All I'm hearing is privileged whining from decision fatigue. You're smart enough to understand that having too many choices is better than too few," Darren said.

"Things might feel overwhelming now, but we're still early in the year, and you'll have plenty of time to decide who you like out of the people throwing themselves at you." I huffed. I'm not being that shallow, am I?... Maybe I am. There were any number of things to nitpick about my situation. With so many people crowding around us, it sometimes felt like the table was a zoo, and Arlo and I had become the main attractions.

Sometimes I had to consciously repress my cringing, watching half the freshman class fall over themselves to get into our good graces. At the same time, weren't their actions perfectly understandable? Of course, they wanted to befriend the heir to the throne while he was still a (relatively) weak first-year. Wouldn't that give them an easy source of social capital and protection from bullies once he rose to the throne in a year or two?

I had approached him for similarly selfish reasons, so what exactly about their bootlicking was wrong? It also seemed likely that I would eventually rise to the position of Jack or Queen in a few years, and they probably saw me as easier to interact with than someone like Arlo. Being friendly with me was a low investment for a good reward, so why wouldn't they? They weren't being malicious or unreasonable or mean-spirited toward me, only opportunistic. I might have done the exact same thing in their place.

Why am I still so annoyed by this, then? After thinking for a while, I had my answer.

"I guess... I guess the problem is that I don't like any of them - as people, I mean. What's the point of having your pick of the litter if it's all, well, litter?" Darren raised an appraising eyebrow.

"I'm not sure I want to know what you mean by that."

"Oh, um, not like that." I realized how my words made things sound.

"They haven't actually said or done anything too terrible. It's just... The joy and pleasure they get from violence and fighting, the way they look down on low-tiers for being weak - It feels so gross!" Embarrassed, I rubbed the back of my neck and stared down at the floor.

"But I guess it was a little naive of me to expect anything else. Even after years in this world, I'm still not used to it." The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Darren smiled wryly and let out a huff, though I couldn't tell if it was from my situation or what he perceived as awkward phrasing.

"Meili, if you could only befriend people who shared your feelings about violence, you would end up alone." He let the words hang in the air for a bit, giving me a complex glance before he began force-feeding his newly-made tonics to the unconscious patients.

"Could you go grab the other half-batch I made?" I nodded, following his orders.

"I'll never forget the day you rushed into the infirmary and started retching into the trash can," he said, pausing between the third and fourth patient.

"Imagine my shock when I learned it was because you roughed up a student... Even though it was Kralik, the same one who beat up your purple-haired friend. Anyone else would've been riding high on self-satisfied pride." I crossed my arms defensively, grimacing slightly at the memory.

"I know already. I'm a soft-hearted weakling who'll get taken advantage of if I don't toughen up. You've said it before. But just picture it: a world where my views are the standard. Wouldn't that be nice? You would barely have to work a day in your life."

"Sure. But I never argued that your feelings are wrong, only that they aren't compatible with the world we live in." Darren turned around, looking me dead in the eye.

"On some level, you agree. Isn't that why you've been trying so hard to change?"

"... Oh, and go grab a couple more heart-rate monitors," he added. I didn't bother to reply, remaining conspicuously silent as I followed his orders. We both knew that he was completely right. Instead of arguing, I chose to talk about something else.

"On the bright side, I think I've found someone other than you to dump my issues on," I said after handing him the monitors.

"First name's Abbie - a bit short, mid-length gray hair. I wanted to ask if you've seen her in the medical office before."

"Is she a first year?"

"Yeah."

"In that case, I think I've seen her once or twice," Darren said.

"I may have read her profile, actually. Is she the one with the interesting ability? 2. 1, lets her walk up walls?"

"That's her," I confirmed.

"Is she doing alright? She's nowhere near strong enough to protect herself, and the first time I saw her, she was getting tossed out of a window." He shrugged.

"I didn't see anything too severe in her medical history, though it was a while ago.... If you're really that worried, why don't you just ask her?"

"I want to ask her," I answered.

"But I can't do more than say hi when we walk by each other in the hallway without risking her safety. What do you think my crowd of groupies would do if they saw me having a conversation with her instead of them?" What's so great about a weakling like her, anyway? You need to respect yourself more, Meili! I pursed my lips as memories of fifth grade began popping up in my mind; my many journal entries from that time hadn't helped me suppress them.

Still, for some odd reason, Darren suddenly seemed more uncomfortable than I was.

"You just extracted a memory that I was trying to keep buried," he groaned.

"God damn it. Did I ever tell you about this high-tier girl I dated?" I shook my head, bemused.

"No. But it couldn't have possibly ended well, or you would have bragged to me about her by now."

"Ha ha." He glared at me, then continued.

"Ugh. To keep it short, I met a woman named Nyla back in medical school, and we ended up dating for about half a year. Things were going well between us, but when her god-tier ex-boyfriend heard about our relationship..."

"No," I said, almost gasping.

"You can't be serious. Did he really pull the whole 'you left me for this trash?' routine? I thought it only existed in trashy romance novels!"

"I thought so too," Darren said bitterly.

"But apparently, it's convincing enough in real life that he got Nyla to break up with me for him. Or maybe it was his massive salary working for The Authorities while I was a broke med student with no prospects." Ow.

"So stop feeling sorry for yourself and be grateful, alright?" He glared at me again, but more seriously.

"I've seen your scans - you're on track to become a high-tier in your senior year of high school." After another moment, he looked out into the distance, muttering.

"I can't tell you how much bullshit I could have avoided if I'd just been a few points stronger." I winced.

"This is awful. Now I feel even more terrible for bitching about my life to you." Darren snorted.

"You can make it up to me by being my unpaid intern for the day. Why don't you start by watching over my patients while I take a nap? It's only fair, given that you'll beat my salary once you graduate from university."

"Well... I was actually thinking about becoming a doctor, so getting some volunteer hours might be good."

"Really?" He blinked.

"Planning to take after your mom?"

"Exactly. I'll be the director of Wellston City Hospital, and then I'll repay you by rescuing you from this thankless job," I half-joked.

"It won't even take that long once I'm a god-tier... Maybe fifteen years or so?" (The punchline, here, was that Darren had spent his own fifteen years post-high school to become a glorified school nurse).... But a mean joke for my previous world was standard for my new one.

"I still don't get how you already understand working adult humor." He smiled incredulously.

"Your mind seems so mature at times that I forget you're just a freshman, Meili."

"See? I'm a future god-tier and a genius," I said.

"You'll be calling me boss in a decade." Beautiful My third period was Social Studies. It was the only class where I learned anything.

"As you already know, we live in Sector 107, also known as the Great Lakes Sector. Can any of you name either the sector capital or our most populous city?" The kid two rows in front of me, a blue-haired boy with glasses, raised his hand at our teacher's question.

"Our sector's capital is New Toronto. I'm not sure if it was supposed to be a trick question, but I believe it's also our most populous."

"Very good, Erick." Mrs. Ito smiled at him, gesturing at the map she kept at the front of the classroom.

"New Toronto, located on the southern shore of Lake Erie, has a population of nearly six million people. It's known primarily as the center of business and culture of the Great Lakes Sector, though some would say Wellston City has a decent chance at the title of cultural center."

"Now, turning our textbooks to chapter 7, we'll start covering our neighboring sector, Sector 108. Also known as the Northern Atlantic Sector, it shares many similarities with our own. Let's try to name some of them as a class!" After a few seconds, I raised my hand.

"Their capital, New Boston, has about the same population as ours. We're both average-sized sectors of about 40 million people."

"That's right!" Mrs. Ito cried enthusiastically.

"Of the 210 worldwide, sectors 107 and 108 rank smack-dab in the middle of the pack regarding population. I'll add that we're both very urban sectors; that is to say, most of the population in both sectors lives in or around large cities. Now what are some more?" There was silence in response, and her enthusiasm dissolved once she noticed that there were around four students paying attention.

"This is important stuff, guys! Don't cry to me when this ends up as a short-answer question on the test!" No one spoke, and her gaze hardened before it began to wander over our seating. From experience, I could tell she was searching for a sleeping student to make an example out of. Mrs. Ito was passionate about her subject and good at explaining, a great teacher for anyone who actually cared (i. e., me), but she was terrible for those who didn't.

Laughing quietly, I poked Ventus in the back; he was napping in the chair in front of me. He jolted awake just in time to avoid a detention.

"Thanks," he whispered, grinning back at me. Two other students weren't as lucky. Watching high schoolers scrambling around half-awake would be funny to me in any universe, but Mrs. Ito was not as entertained as I was. She started chewing them out viciously. (Which she could do; she was a 3. 7). I smiled, meanwhile, feeling strangely smug to be the only student in the class who was enjoying learning.

'Geography and History of the North American Continent' was my favorite class, and it wasn't particularly close. I had never found Algebra II to be the climax of difficulty, especially relearning it with the mind of an adult. High school-level science didn't differ much from what I remembered, and my reading and writing were so far ahead that I could sleep through every English class while maintaining an A. (With minimal punishment; I was a 3. 7).

Simply put, ninth-grade school subjects were dull after reincarnation. So it made sense that I found my enjoyment in subjects like Geography or History, especially when the history of this world was so vastly different from what I was used to. Back when I first reincarnated, I had been shocked to learn there was no recorded history older than 600 years. Like, literally nothing. There were no remaining documents on the state of the world once you got that far back.

Historians could use more recent resources to make guesses, of course, but there was no way for them to truly know anything. The leading theory was that some insanely powerful monster with a 10. 0 reality-warping ability had burned through his entire aura-channeling system to do something insane. It had sounded unbelievable to me, hearing it for the first time, until I remembered that an 8. 0 could literally stop time. The internet had other ideas about the subject, of course. People screamed conspiracy.

But the idea of a massive cover-up plot felt a little far-fetched even to me. For starters, each of the 210 total sector authorities was essentially independent, so it would take total agreement between all of them to ensure a blackout of information. And then there was the possibility of a single whistleblower in a high position revealing everything… I let my mind wander for a bit longer, then pulled myself back to the real world. I decided to ask Mrs. Ito a question.

After the years of struggle to understand this universe, I didn't mind people thinking I was a suck-up if it meant making a bit of progress. I raised my hand slowly, preparing to answer, when I was interrupted by the voice of someone opening the front door.

"Could I borrow Meili for a moment, please?" I froze, shocked at the sight of the figure in the doorway. It was Rei, the king of Wellston High School.