I woke up stiff, like my bones remembered the night before better than I did. My hands itched to try something—anything. Notice was already there, waiting, like it always was.
"Good morning, Mizu. Ready to continue?"
I rubbed my eyes. "I guess… yeah. Let's see what I can do today."
"Points available: 970. Skill progression unlocked: Best Welder at level 2, Multi-Instrumentalist at level 1."
I frowned. I didn't fully understand the levels, but I knew higher meant better. I looked around for something to practice. The rusty gate at the end of the street called to me. Broken hinges, jagged edges, perfect for a test.
I focused, trying to visualize the hinges aligning, the metal bending as it should. My hands glowed faintly with energy—or maybe it was just me imagining it. I pushed, twisted, willed… and the hinge snapped off completely.
"What the hell?" I muttered, staring at the ruined gate.
"Failure is part of learning," Notice said calmly. "Adjust. Try again. Observe first, act second."
I groaned. I hated failing. But the voice… Notice… it didn't mock me. It simply waited for me to try again. Slowly, I breathed. I examined the metal, traced the bends, imagined the pressure points. I tried again. This time, it clicked. The hinge aligned, the gate swung smoothly.
A small smile tugged at my lips. "Okay… I did it. Sort of."
"Progress," Notice said. "Your focus improves skill efficiency. You are learning."
I looked around, feeling restless. Music. Music always calmed me. I walked to the old piano by the park. Rusted, keys chipped, strings loose. I touched it lightly.
At first, only screeching came out. Discordant, harsh. My fingers stumbled. Panic bubbled.
"Observe first. Feel the instrument. Understand its flaws," Notice instructed.
I closed my eyes, let the moonlight wash over the keys, listened to the cold night. Slowly, a melody emerged. Not perfect, not clean—but beautiful in its own jagged way. I opened my eyes. My chest felt lighter than it had in months.
"You see? Small failures, big lessons," Notice said. "Even broken beginnings can lead to progress."
I laughed softly, half in disbelief. Maybe I wasn't completely broken. Maybe I could… start to put myself back together. One hinge, one note, one point at a time.
And for the first time, I didn't feel completely alone.