Frustration began to prick at him, a familiar unwanted visitor. But this time, John caught it. He understood there was no need for that emotion; it served him no purpose here. Sensei, standing close, noticed John's struggle, the faint tension in his shoulders, the almost imperceptible clenching of his jaw. Yet, he said nothing, his face a mask of serene calmness, mirroring the state he wished John to achieve.
John, meanwhile, was in a silent battle with his mind. Should he use his ability? It would make sensing the chi so much easier. But then, would Sensei notice? This internal debate raged for what felt like an age, until finally, John gave in. He activated the "switch."
The profound calmness washed over him instantly, suppressing all internal chatter. And just as quickly, the subtle hum of his chi became clear, a distinct vibration he could almost grasp. He held onto that sensation for a mere moment, fixing its feeling in his mind, then immediately switched his ability off. Just like that, the clarity of the chi sensation vanished, replaced by the normal mental noise.
As for Sensei, the moment John used his unique ability, he noticed. The aura around John subtly shifted, radiating a profound, serene state a level of tranquility Sensei himself could only achieve under extreme, sustained meditation. He also felt the faint, almost imperceptible chi fluctuation around John, a brief surge and then a rapid dissipation.
Sensei knew exactly what John was attempting: a shortcut. He said nothing, simply settling down cross-legged on the mat, closing his eyes. "You already got it once, John," Sensei's voice was calm, steady. "No need to focus so hard. You just need to find that resonance and feeling. It becomes easier the more you try."
Sensei's words hung in the air, a calm instruction that resonated with deeper meaning. With that, he settled back down, eyes closing, and fell into his own profound meditation. John let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. Either Sensei hadn't realized he'd used his unique ability, or he had, but chose to say nothing. The ambiguity was unsettling, yet also liberating.
Either way, Sensei's advice had given John a crucial insight into how to train his chi on his own. According to Sensei, it became easier to sense chi the more one made contact with it. John immediately saw a path to train both his superpower and his chi sensing simultaneously.
He would enter a constant on-and-off state: he'd activate his ability, flood himself with the abnormal calm, sense the chi's distinct hum, and then, while still holding onto that fleeting sensation, he'd immediately turn his ability off. His hope was that by repeatedly grasping the chi while his power was active, and then attempting to retain that feeling once the power receded, he could condition himself to sense it without relying on his unique gift. It was a risky, draining strategy, but it promised accelerated progress.
The rest of the hours in the hall were spent in this relentless cycle of on and off. John's body subtly tensed and relaxed with each activation, a barely perceptible flicker of an almost-superhuman serenity followed by the familiar sensation of chi. Sensei, eyes closed in his meditation, seemed to perceive everything. At one point, his ancient eyes briefly opened, a glint of recognition in their depths, as he silently observed the peculiar, innovative method John was applying to his training. He understood the boy's gambit.
This intense on-and-off cycle continued for what felt like an eternity, each brief flash of power and subsequent drain wearing at John. The meditation period was nearing its end when John, having just switched off his unique state, paused. He was about to activate it again, ready for another brief glimpse, when he noticed it—a faint, yet undeniably familiar sensation.
It was the hum. Not the overwhelming clarity granted by his power, but a subtle, persistent vibration, a ghost of the chi he'd been chasing. He had caught it, even without his switch.
At that exact moment, Sensei's voice, calm and clear, cut through the quiet of the hall. "Hold that state, John. Bask in it. Try not to move it; just feel its flow in your body."
John froze. The hum was still there, faint but present, a true echo of the chi, independent of his secret power. Sensei's words were a confirmation, a guiding hand precisely when he needed it. He consciously relaxed, letting go of the tension that had gripped him, and simply focused on the subtle vibration. It wasn't the overwhelming clarity his "switch" provided, but it was real. It was a faint, warm current, winding its way through his core, almost as if his body were a network of rivers. He didn't try to control it, didn't try to amplify it; he just felt it, letting its flow resonate within him.
The feeling was ephemeral, a whisper on the edge of perception, but it was enough. It was the first time he had truly connected with his chi without the aid of his hidden ability, and a quiet sense of triumph swelled within him, quickly quelled by the meditative calm. He knew, with absolute certainty, that this was the breakthrough Sensei had been waiting for.
John basked in the faint, resonant hum of his chi, a profound, quiet victory. He held it, let it flow, until Sensei stood up, his voice cutting through the hall's stillness. "That is all for today. Class dismissed."
A familiar pang of hunger stirred within John, but it was nowhere near the debilitating emptiness that had left him stumbling yesterday. His constant on-and-off practice with his unique ability was already yielding results, making the energy drain more manageable.
In the canteen, John found his usual table, but something was distinctly different. More trainees than usual gravitated towards his section, their chatter louder, their gazes more direct. They seemed eager to speak to him, their curiosity almost palpable. John immediately understood why. They had witnessed his interaction with Sensei, seen him called forward, recognized that he had somehow gained an advantage, a step up in the League's ruthless hierarchy. And now, they wanted to know what it was.
John didn't mind. In a perverse way, this was exactly what he wanted. What better justification could there be for experimenting with his unique power on his fellow trainees if they willingly offered themselves up, eager for the "secrets" he now possessed?
John picked up a piece of bread, feigning casualness as he surveyed the eager faces. A young man with sharp, hungry eyes, whom John vaguely recognized for choosing a spear martial art, spoke first.
"So, what was that, John? Sensei called you out. And you seemed... different." His voice was low, edged with a mix of curiosity and thinly veiled envy.
A girl with a severe braid, who excelled in stealth martial art, leaned closer. "He felt it, didn't he? The hum." Her voice was quieter, but her gaze was just as intense.
John took a bite of his bread, drawing out the moment. "Sensei's just pushing us. He knows some of us are getting closer." He offered a noncommittal shrug, not quite lying, not quite revealing.
"But you were different," insisted another male trainee, older than most, with a scar tracing his eyebrow. "We felt it. That stillness around you. It was... profound."
patreon.com/Emmaony