Chương 17: Thresholds

Deafened by the dismissal bell, Kurisu grimaced as the ringing drove thousands of students through the exits in an undisciplined rush, forming a tide of denim and backpacks that surged toward the bus loop, leaving him and Kenji beside the curb.

"Alright," Kenji said, pointing toward a line of idling buses while adjusting his backpack straps and pointedly refusing eye contact.

"My bus is the 402. It heads south toward Arapahoe. You're on the 405 heading west toward the Village." Nodding, Kurisu wrinkled his nose, tasting burned oil and unnatural soot in the smog.

"Kenji," Kurisu said, his voice cutting through the low rumble of the engines." Tanren seyo. Tanden wo seigyo subeshi." He mimed a clenching fist near his stomach, watching the younger boy wince.

"Yeah, yeah, control. Keep it tight, I got it." Kenji shifted his weight, looking up at the taller boy.

"See you tomorrow, Conan." Turning away, Kenji vanished into the crush of boarding students. Left behind on the sidewalk, Kurisu watched the younger boy go, letting his gaze linger on the empty space in the crowd. He remains unrefined, yet I feel as if he possesses profound potential. Walking to the back row of the 405, Kurisu sat down, placing his backpack across his lap. As the chassis lurched forward toward the mountain silhouettes, he closed his eyes, attempting to meditate.

However, his usual stillness proved elusive today, shattered by a throbbing behind his eyes born from six hours of deciphering the tongues of this new world, the strange English words still bouncing incessantly around his skull. With a sigh, he opened his eyes to watch the suburban sprawl roll past the windows. Succumbing to a sudden wave of isolation, his stomach churned at the thought of home, twisting with memories of his family, the young girl, and the innocents whose futures he'd stolen.

The rotten stench of Grahk's training pits filled his nose, forcing him to lean over, retching onto the floorboards. Met with the scent of raw onions and chili powder upon opening the front door, Kenji kicked off his sneakers, dropping his backpack in the hallway to let it hit the floor with a thud.

"Welcome home, Kenji," his mother called out from the island counter, where she rolled enchiladas for dinner. Entering the dining room, Kenji headed toward the kitchen.

"Looks like you survived the freshman jungle?" Roland asked, lowering his pen from the paperwork he was apparently finishing up. Reaching for a chair, Kenji hesitated before slumping into it with a huff.

"It was a lot. The school is huge, I got lost twice, and I had to sit next to the biggest walking disaster in the district." He snatched a tortilla chip from a bowl in the center of the table, snapping the piece loudly between his teeth.

"And I had an episode during lunch because of it." Gloria paused her drying, while Roland set his pen down.

"You had an episode?" Gloria asked softly.

"Did you show the tells? The eyes? The hair?"

"Yeah," Kenji admitted, glaring at the salsa.

"It was this kid. He doesn't speak a lick of English, so he just latched onto me in Biology, following me around like a lost puppy. I tried to shake him, but he just didn't get the hint." Roland leaned forward, locking onto his son.

"Did anyone see?" Kenji hesitated, spinning the chip in his fingers.

"No. He demanded we leave right then, and I guided us out behind the old schoolhouse where we were alone. And instead of freaking out, the edgelord actually showed me he had powers too. He hit me with this weird pressure, making me feel so much heavier than normal, and my glamour fell right away." Kenji let out an incredulous laugh, pressing a hand to his stomach.

"But then he bullied me into meditating, telling me my energy was slack. He made me find this magic muscle I didn't even know I had, but it's there all right, and he made me clench it. I've spent years just trying to suppress the power, but he taught me to actually flex it, physically holding the flow shut. It worked, just like that. No blown fuses, no trip to the nurse." Roland and Gloria exchanged a look, remaining silent for a long moment.

"Who is this boy?" Roland asked.

"His name's Kurisu," Kenji said.

"Just another freshman, probably new to the country." Roland nodded slowly, leaning back against his chair.

"Well, whoever he is, we owe him a debt if he taught you to control your power."

"We don't owe him anything," Kenji grumbled, grabbing another chip.

"He's weird, Dad. And annoying. But... he's the only one who didn't look at me like I was a freak. He just looked at me like I was a math problem he was trying to solve." Thinking back on the moment, Kurisu was the first and only person Kenji had ever met outside of his parents who truly didn't look at him like he was a monster. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

The bus dropped Kurisu off at the corner near Orchard Road, leaving him to face an uphill walk to the new house. Welcoming the climb, he used the physical exertion to settle his mind, burning off the lingering adrenaline of the day. As he stepped through the front door, he inhaled the scent of cardboard boxes mixed with the lemon floor cleaner he recognized from cleaning the old house, finding Steven in the kitchen surrounded by packing materials and tech bags.

"Hey, the scholar returns," Steven said, flashing a quick smile.

"How was it? Melt any brains? Break any desks?" Kurisu walked to the island, leaning against the edge as the day finally caught up to his posture.

"School. Loud," Kurisu said softly." Amata no warawabe. English fast."

"Yeah, high school can be a nightmare," Steven agreed, pushing a small box across the countertop.

"But speaking of communication. Problem solved. Insurance covered the replacements. I told them the lightning strike surged through the truck's charging ports, frying everything, and they bought it. Ace got a new Switch, Charlotte got her phone back, and this is yours. Your own line, and I pre-loaded the translation app."

"Oh wait, you probably couldn't get any of that." Steven paused, checking his phone." Anata no keitai desu." Kurisu picked up the device, studying the rubberized case, and pressed the side button to watch the screen illuminate." Sutiibun, katajikenai." He stared for a second, blinked, and said, " Ah, suman!" Tapping the phone, he played the translation.

"I offer my gratitude." Steven chuckled, leaning back against the counters.

"Just try not to EMP this one, okay? My insurance agent is starting to ask questions about why we have so much 'bad luck' with electronics."

"Kurisu. Careful," he promised. Saying she was exhausted from the unpacking, Charlotte ordered pizza for a quick dinner. After finishing his meal, Kurisu immediately retreated down the stairs to the basement. The space was slowly becoming someplace livable, aided by a remnant of carpet dragged down by Steven to cover the center of the floor. Changing from his school clothes to sweats and a t-shirt, he settled into the center of the carpet to sit cross-legged, resting his hands in the cosmic mudra.

Closing his eyes, he attempted to center his mind against the lingering buzz of the day, slowly breathing as he counted. Ichi. Ni. San. Turning inward, he sank his focus down to his Tanden, just below his navel. His Ki swirled within the center of his being, the azure-white of his electrical affinity spiraling through his Keiraku. To hone his internal discipline, he performed a rudimentary exercise, systematically converting the raw energy through the elemental stages.

Kaki, he thought, feeling the current shift to a searing heat. Fūki, forcing the heat to disperse into a slicing gale. Dōki, grounding the gale into unyielding pressure. Suiki, melting the pressure into a fluid current. Zenki, he finalized, watching the internal energy stabilize into a pure, unified white. Kōki, drawing the light inward until it condensed into a pinpoint. Anki, directing the light to fade into darkness. Shifting the flow entirely, he ignited the darkness back into the azure-white crackle of Raiki.

The spark snapped between his small fingers, the crackle sharp in the quiet courtyard. He stared at it in awe, holding the energy just as his father had shown him, right before a sudden sneeze threw his concentration. The spark detonated, his hair poofing outward into a statically charged sphere, drawing a booming laugh from Takeshi that echoed across the stones. Wiping a tear away, Kurisu whispered, " Chichi-ue, koishi."

Sinking his focus deeper, he sought the root anchored at the base of his spirit, finding the red ring. Establishing emotional neutrality, he mentally flicked the wheel, opening the mechanism. Accelerating as it entered the ring, the Ki exponentially increased in volume before flooding near-instantly through his entire system, projecting a translucent blue ripple off his skin.

His senses expanded rapidly, allowing him to hear the hum of the upstairs refrigerator as if it sat in the room beside him, while his muscle density increased under the surging pressure. Checking his Tanden, he noted the sharply dropping energy level, the ring functioning as a multiplier of uncertain capacity that burned mercilessly through his reserves, draining the Ki much faster than he could naturally replenish it.

Left unmanaged, this technique would certainly invite death; however, despite the current lack of fatigue, he could still calculate the loss, taking note that engaging in combat with an active drain would rapidly empty his reserves. Applying this under pressure presented an entirely different challenge; centering his emotions to spin the ring required intense focus, a difficult feat amidst the chaos of a fight. Willing the connection to close, he severed the drain as the blue ripple faded from his skin.

Through a long, controlled exhalation, Kurisu released the tension, noting the stark internal deficit. The hollowed Tanden left him winded despite sitting perfectly still, taking its toll without a single strike thrown. As he sat in the quiet basement, he worked through the naming conventions for the lock. The first part dealt with his capacity, defining his limit, which he acknowledged as Genkai. For the second half, he considered the act of surpassing it.

He thought of toppa to break through, and hakai to erase the lock entirely. But since he merely opened the mechanism to unleash the flow, he settled on the simplest command. Genkai Kai. He chuckled, finalizing the state simply as Genkai —Limit Unleash." Sore nite yoshi."