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    Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. It was another mindless day at the Shin'yama Kinesthetic Academy. The 15-17 age division looked blankly at their test papers as they pondered over the answers and tried their best to remember past study sessions. "Was it A, or B...?" Some children actually studied, which could be noted by their pencils rapidly scurrying over the paper, filling in circle after circle with almost no wait to think. They simply knew.

    Then there were the less than average children. The 'No-names' usually, though the named children weren't always the best of the best. Now, I'm probably getting ahead of myself, allow me to give a little background before we go further.

    This classroom, this school, and these students, are all apart of a program called 'Kinesis'. Now, the name 'Kinesis', which is told to the students everyday, might I add, comes from the root word 'Kinesthetic', meaning movement. That's exactly what the academy is about, but that would be being much to general. This academy, rooted in the Shin'yama Region, tucked away in the Kyousetsu Prefecture B-79, is one of the dozens of academies spread throughout the world dedicated to the Martial Arts and body science, among other things. The art of fighting and moving is one of high scrutiny in this world, which should be made obvious when you take the time to look at the history of this particular world. Hundreds of years ago, these schools were once simply places for the study of how the body works. What makes us so tired when we run? Well, we know that, but the study behind these schools were, "What can we do to stop that fatigue from running?" Interesting, is it not?

    Over the years, the school began to make great breakthroughs. The only problem was this: in order to test out the discovery, you would need a physically fit person to test it on. Obviously, I don't just mean physically able, but high above average, high above military level. Not superhuman, but in much better shape than the bookworms these scientists were.

    And, by possibly the oddest chance, a women came to the door of an academy with her newborn child that she simply could not take care of. Nowhere else to turn, she came with only one ultimatum: use him as a test subject. Obviously, a newborn is not above military level. But what if he could be trained to be? It would take years, but it was possible. And after accepting, more and more of these dead-end mothers began to flood in with their children (which also proves the sad state of this world only a few hundred years ago). These children were too numerous to name and remember, and thus they were given codename's. As time progressed, the scientists began to change the academies in a joint function, every school across the globe, to accommodate drastic changes: it would now be a school for these children, more than it was a place for the men and women of science to study (though it still did remain just that as well, if only less significantly). The scientist also began to accept children, calling for them, requiring more subjects. It was through this that a child who was 5 years old could be sent of by his parents and stay with the school. In turn, the Academy would pay for that child's stay, and supply the family with money. Some families who wanted better for their child sent them, some parents wanted their child to be strong and powerful when they returned. Many people had different reasons. In the end, there was always one difference: the children given away by the parents at the age of 5 already had real names.

    The children given away by dead-end parents did not.

    Either way, when the child hit 18 years old, they graduated and became members of society, if not much more powerful and intelligent than your average Joe. And this just so happened to be the month of K-7's 18th birthday. As you can see, he doesn't have a true name, being given up distraught over 17 and a half years ago. But he's not your average 'no-name'. In fact, this may be the most amazing thing that's ever happened to this planet. All because of one thing:

    The word 'Kinesis' can be found in more words than just Kinesthetic...

    "(Ugh)", K-7 thought to himself as he looked at the 80 question test. There were 2 minutes left, and he still had 80 questions left. His appearance was as usual: Somewhat short hair, though the hair going down the side of his head was a bit longer. It was more prickly than it was spiked, and it was jet black. His eyes were an odd hazel color, and his skin was a very light bronze, almost considered almond. And there was a lot of sweat coming from his head, dampening the small tufts of hair dangling over his forehead.

    "Time's up!" a stern women said loudly, jolting the students out of their silent thought processes. The teacher could easily tell who passed and who did not before even grading: the ones who passed gladly finished by writing their name and passing it forward. The ones who failed yelled out cursing and banging their head.

    Body Disease Class 102 was finally over, and not too soon, as the pop quiz the students just took was quite tasking. For K-7, it was just madness. He walked towards his next class, Gymnastics, eager to this as it involved actual movement, not simulation of movement on paper with a pencil. This was what he was good at. He wasn't known by everyone, in fact he only knew the people he worked with in team projects. That's how every student was, there was no popular or lame crowd; everyone felt strange. But this was their life, and they were happy with it. Or, at least that's what they forced themselves to believe. They were more proud of being so elite than happy of it.

    That's when it happened. At this very moment, at this very time of 9:22 a.m. on Thursday December 22nd, it happened.

    "Hello, students of the Shin'yama Kinesthetic Academy," the Administrator spoke clearly over the intercom. "I have a very important announcement. Every class for the rest of the day has been canceled. I instead would like each one of you to return to your dorms and partake in an experiment with a very special item. That is all." the intercom buzzed off with a slight reverberation, and clicked. Every student paused for a minute, wondering what to do, and began to walk and talk with their friends about what activities they'd partake in for the rest of the day. The girls would talk about the D-7xx boys, and the guys would spar and fight until the sun sat over the mountains. But not until, of course, they completed this odd task.

    "What... in the 'heak is this guy getting at?" K-7 thought to himself with one eyebrow raised, still staring at the intercom.

    Seeing as how he had the rest of the day to himself, he decided to take advantage of that and went to train in the woods north of the academy. He then proceeded to get something to eat at the academy, and continued training in the academy's gymnasium. It was after more than eight hours of going about this listless day that he decided to finally walk home. It was a bit later at night, now, and the sun was just about gone.

    K-7's room was further from the Academy, over in the AA-8xx Zone. It wasn't the furthest zone from the academy, but it was the 3rd furthest, making his walk home a long one. Being December, he was very cold, and the walk just added insult to injury. He thought more of this experiment than the cold, though. The students passing him by talked to each other about various things. Nothing important, and nothing worth changing his perspective from.

    K-7 reached his dorm room, closing his door and turning the light on, wondering what vague experiment could lie in wait. He took his jacket off and laid it on the back of his rolling char, and kicked off his shoes. His mind began to wonder again while he did these things: was there an instruction as to where or what it was? 'It' being this experiment he was eager to partake in.

    Before he could finish his last thought, he saw a small, run-of-the-mill fountain pen sitting on his desk. There was a note next to it written in Academy lettering format:

    "Dear Student,

    We would like you to partake in our newest project, Operation: Kinesis. There is no penalty for incompleting the task, not doing it, or failing, but we would very much-so appreciate it if you attempted. The directions go as followed: Please move the pen without any physical force. Please do not touch it, push the desk, blow on it, or move it with any other object to make contact. Please simply move the object.

    Thank you, your Administrator
    - Kazue Jin."

    "What the hell do they mean by move it?! Are they serious? What do I move it with, then, my MIND?"

    Bam. The thought came right there. "Are they implying that we try to move it through means of Telekinesis? The mythical Kinesis? Movement by means of thought-patterns and and brain-waves? Could they truly be serious? Is this a late April Fool's joke?"

    So many thoughts came through his head, and yet he wanted to try. And try he did. K-7 decided to take one big breath, laugh one hard time, pull up a chair and sit in front of it. At first, he was very sarcastic, even going as far as making buzzing noises and pointing his fingers at his temple. But after a while, reality set in: these guys aren't the type to joke. As the pen sat there, almost in an eerie silence, mocking him in reverse as he made silly faces at it while it stayed motionless, the thought of actually moving it became more and more real. He had seen highly developed students jump higher than the average human, and almost hover down, breaking any physical law that was there before. But those came through intense training. We can jump, yes, and we can train ourselves to jump higher... but can we telekinetically move a physical object?

    Then he became serious. And slightly nervous as well, because in the event that this pen moved, this completely insignificant writing utensil... it would change everything he ever thought about anything.

    He stared. He squinted. He tried to force his brain lobes to pulse at the pen (as foolish as that sounds). Nothing worked. Then he tried one last resort: he breathed in and out deeply. Long, drawn out breaths, clearing his mind. Then he looked at it. He fully believed it would move, and the more he knew it, the more he observed the pen, the more this odd feeling of awareness engulfed the pen. The feeling grew stronger and stronger, growing deeper and deeper, until...!

    Nothing. His mind felt truly enlightened, and nothing. Distraught, he shifted his awareness away, losing focus as he felt failure... and mentally drained?

    Mentally drained? How can that-

    It moved. When he shifted his awareness away, an odd pulse-like feeling left his mind fleetingly and shook the pen. The ever-growing inertia created by the telekinetic force pushed the object forward 3 inches. K-7, a no-name, telekinetically moved a pen.

    This was the mythical form of Kinesis.