The days in Kuoh started to fall into a steady rhythm. Mornings came early, with the sound of shoes on tile and the chatter of the younger kids rushing to get ready for school. Lucas joined the walk to class each day, listening to the familiar noise of the streets and the quiet hum of voices around him.
School was simple. The lessons were easy, the hours predictable. He kept to himself, answering when called on but never enough to draw attention. Teachers liked him because he was polite. Other students didn't bother him because he never caused trouble. That balance suited him.
When classes ended, he often stopped at the park near the school gate. It wasn't anything special: just grass, swings, and a narrow path that curved toward the river, but it was peaceful. He liked the way the light filtered through the trees while everyone else ran and shouted.
"Lucas!"
He turned as Momo ran up to him, waving. Her silver hair shimmered in the sun. "You didn't wait for me again."
"You were talking to your friends," he said.
"So what? You could've waited." She stopped beside him, pretending to pout. "You always sneak off after school."
"I just wanted to go home," he said. "That's all."
"Ugh, you're no fun," she said, though her smile gave her away. "Come on, walk with me."
They followed the fence that bordered the park, the sound of water faint in the distance. Momo talked most of the way. She told him about a classmate who fell asleep during math and about another who dropped their lunch right after unwrapping it. She had a way of making small things sound dramatic. Lucas listened, occasionally asking questions to keep her talking.
"Do you ever get tired of being quiet all the time?" she asked.
He thought about it. "Not really."
"I'd go crazy if I couldn't talk," she said, picking up a stick and tossing it into the stream. "You don't really do anything fun, do you?"
"I read," he said.
"That doesn't count."
"It does to me."
Momo laughed and kicked a pebble down the road. "You're hopeless."
He smiled slightly but didn't reply.
When they reached the bridge, the sunlight had turned orange. They leaned on the railing, watching the river drift by. It wasn't real silence between them, more like something comfortable that didn't need to be filled.
After a while Momo straightened, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "I gotta go before my mom starts calling."
"Alright."
"See you tomorrow?"
He nodded. "Yeah."
"Good," she said, smiling before running off. Her footsteps faded down the street until only the rustle of leaves and the sound of water remained.
Lucas stayed a little longer before heading home.
Dinner at the orphanage was noisy as always. The younger kids argued over soup, and the caretakers tried to calm them down. Lucas sat near the end of the table, eating quietly. The food was simple, but it was warm, and that was enough.
"Lucas, can you help clear the dishes later?" one of the caretakers asked.
"Sure."
"You've been a big help lately," she said, smiling. "Thank you."
He nodded, not sure what else to say.
Later that night, after everyone had gone to bed, he stepped outside. The air was cool, and the faint sound of the river carried through the dark.
He sat on the wooden steps by the fence and closed his eyes. The quiet helped him focus. Innovate Clear stirred under his skin, steady and patient.
He lifted his hands and exhaled slowly. The air between them shimmered, soft and thin, like heat rising off pavement. He held the distortion for as long as he could before letting it fade. It disappeared quietly, without the harsh snap that used to follow.
Better.
He tried again, slower this time, stretching his awareness further. The world seemed to bend with him, sounds softening until even the crickets grew faint. It wasn't power the way others might imagine it. It was balance. For a few breaths, everything aligned his heartbeat, the air, the world itself.
Then he let it go.
The stillness faded, leaving only the night. He smiled faintly. What he wanted wasn't strength. It was control, the kind that kept life steady.
A flicker of movement caught his eye. One of the younger boys peeked from a dorm window, waved, and ducked away. Lucas waved back before standing.
He stayed outside for a while longer, watching the stars appear. A distant train rumbled somewhere beyond town, its sound fading into the quiet.
He thought of the park, of Momo's laugh and how her words always filled the air so easily.
He hadn't realized until now how much those little moments meant to him or how much he wanted them to last.
When he went back inside, the dorm was dark except for a strip of moonlight across the floor. He lay down on his bed and stared at the ceiling.
For once, the quiet didn't feel empty. It felt like something worth keeping.