The question caught Natalia off guard. She looked up from her salad at her best friend, Emi, sitting across from her in the school cafeteria.
"What do you mean?" Natalia kept her voice neutral, spearing a cherry tomato with unnecessary force.
Emi raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Sierra saw him yesterday at Titan Gym. Your gross stepbrother. On a treadmill."
"So?"
"So? Since when does Satori do anything besides play video games and eat junk food?"
Natalia shrugged, trying to look disinterested. "He's going through some phase. It won't last."
"I don't know." Emi took a sip of her protein shake. "Sierra was there for at least two hours and he was still there."
Something uncomfortable twisted in Natalia's stomach. She pushed it away, focusing on her lunch.
"Whatever. It doesn't concern me."
"Mmm." Emi's tone was skeptical. "You know the entrance exams are coming up. You think he's actually trying to get into New Vein?"
Natalia laughed, a short, sharp sound. "He's a Zero. No amount of treadmill time will change that."
"True." Emi nodded, then leaned forward conspiratorially. "But he does look a little less... huge."
"Can we talk about something else?" Natalia's tone made it clear this wasn't a request. "Like how we're going to destroy the practical portion of the entrance exam?"
Emi took the hint, launching into an analysis of their competition. But Natalia found her mind drifting back to that morning's scene: Satori, gradually improving, refusing to quit despite his body's obvious protests.
It didn't make sense. The Satori she knew was pathologically allergic to discomfort. He was the embodiment of the path of least resistance. The kid who'd been caught cheating three times in middle school rather than study. The teenager who'd built a small empire of delivery app accounts to avoid walking to the kitchen.
People didn't change that dramatically. Not without reason.
What was his angle?
Three weeks. Three weeks of the same routine.
Satori was up before her now. When her alarm went off at six, he was already in the backyard, or sometimes already gone—to the gym, she assumed, based on Emi's reports.
Natalia hated to admit it, even to herself, but changes were becoming visible. His face, while still round, had lost some of its puffiness. His shirts hung a little looser. His movements were slightly less labored.
She told herself she didn't care. This was like watching a turtle cross a highway—mildly interesting but ultimately irrelevant. He was still a Zero. No amount of exercise would give him an Aspect.
But something nagged at her. Something she couldn't quite place.
The answer came to her on a Tuesday morning as she prepared her protein shake in the kitchen.
Satori entered, returning from his morning run. He nodded at her—their new normal—and moved to the refrigerator, pulling out a water bottle.
"You're doing this all wrong," she heard herself say.
Satori paused, water bottle halfway to his lips. He looked at her, waiting.
Natalia felt a flush of irritation. At him, at herself, at this entire bizarre situation.
"Your form is terrible. You're going to injure yourself, and then what? All this will be for nothing."
He lowered the water bottle. "What specifically?"
"Everything. Your squats are too shallow. Your planks sag. Your running gait is so inefficient you're burning extra calories just staying upright."
She expected defensiveness. Excuses. The old Satori would have crumpled under criticism, either with pathetic apologies or sullen resentment.
Instead, he nodded. "I know. I'm working on it."
"You need a trainer."
"Can't afford one."
Natalia crossed her arms. "Then you need proper instruction. Books. Videos. Something."
"I'm using what I can find online." He took a long drink of water. "It's fine. I'll figure it out."
"Why?" The question burst from her before she could stop it. "Why are you doing this?"
Something flickered across his face—an expression she couldn't read. For a moment, she thought he wouldn't answer.
"Because I'm tired of being useless."
The simplicity of the statement caught her off guard. There was no self-pity in his voice, no bid for sympathy. Just a flat statement of fact.
"You're still a Zero," she said, the words sounding cruel even to her own ears. "No amount of exercise will change that."
"Maybe. Maybe not." He shrugged. "But I can change this." He gestured to his body. "I can control this much, at least."
Something about his words resonated uncomfortably. Hadn't she said something similar when she'd first manifested her Aspect? When the purple flames of her telekinesis had erupted from her hands during a playground argument, sending three bullies flying across the yard?
I can control this. I can make them respect me.
"Your form on squats," she said abruptly. "Keep your weight in your heels. Imagine you're sitting back into a chair."
He looked at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable behind his glasses.
"Thanks." He turned and left, heading for the shower.
Natalia stood in the kitchen, her protein shake forgotten. What had just happened? Had she actually given him training advice? Had he actually taken it without making it weird?
The strangest part was how normal it had felt. Like talking to a classmate at the gym. Not her stepbrother. Not the person she'd spent two years actively despising.
Just a person trying to improve himself.
Natalia picked up her shake, took a long sip, and tried to ignore the unsettling feeling that had settled in her stomach. A feeling that, if she were honest with herself, might be something like respect.
No. That was ridiculous. It was just surprise. Just the novelty of change.
It would wear off. The old Satori would return eventually. People didn't change permanently.
Did they?
The question lingered as she gathered her things for school. As did the memory of his eyes.
The eyes of someone who had made a decision and intended to see it through, no matter what stood in his way.
Even her.