What about Mark?

"Hey, are you gonna hurry it up? I need to go to the bathroom!" I said, knocking on the bathroom door.

It's Sunday, a few days after school ended, there's only Me and Angie home right now. Mike stayed over with Bryce, and Rose had a community service event she volunteers at; she's been there since Friday evening.

I refuse to go to the Arena during the weekends because if it's packed during the weekdays, and I barely get 1 fight a day, then imagine what it's like during the weekends. As such, I stay home and meditate or exercise.

Angie also had nothing to do today since Josh is working all day, and all her friends are on vacation right now; she's been lazing around here.

"You've been in there for almost 2 hours!" I added, dancing my bathroom dance.

"Alright, alright! I opened the door. There you can go now," Angie said, her voice muffled by the door and running water from the shower.

Without hesitation, I opened the door and quickly waddled to the toilet, and unzipped my pants.

The bathroom is a suite-style bathroom shared with the room in front of ours. But since a pipe burst in that room a few years ago, it's been only used for storage. The bathroom had a sink running along the left wall, with the right having the shower and toilet. There was discoloration along the left wall where a mirror once covered the entire wall but was replaced with two smaller cabinet mirrors.

With the sound of the shower masking my sound, I relieved myself. Just a second after I started, Angie spoke out, startling me.

"Hey, I know it's a random question, but what happened when you got your Mark?" she asked, as her voice echoed in the tiled room.

"Mmh? What do you mean? Didn't I already tell you guys about it?"

"No, when you and Mike came from the other Orphanage, neither of you told us exactly what happened,"

"Oh? After my heart transplant, I just woke up one day during my recovery, and the Mark had appeared on my chest. I got woken up by a sudden itching across my chest; initially, I thought it was just the scar tissue, but when I lifted my head to look, several lines were wiggling around on my chest," I said, finishing up my business, I flushed. Walking towards the sink, I continued, "After a few minutes, the lines stopped moving and formed two concentric pentagons with 10 stars below them. A few weeks after, one of the pentagons gained a blue hue to it, and that was it."

"So they really appear all of a sudden, then?" Angie asked, her voice softer than before.

'There's no way! Is she asking why I think she's asking? It's too soon; it didn't happen until December in the original timeline.'

"Um, Angie, you wouldn't happen to be asking because you woke up today with one, right?" I asked.

*crash*

"I'm okay!" Angie screamed, obviously from the floor.

"I'll wait outside," I said, drying my hands. Then I left the bathroom.

Half an hour later.

"So, about The Mark?" I said, sitting as straight as I could on my desk chair.

"Uhm, So yeah..." Angela said, fixing herself on her chair. " I found something that looks like a Mark, but I've only seen yours and Rose's. Mine doesn't look like you two's."

"You know the basics. What shapes do you have?" I asked.

"Um, three hexagons overlapping, creating a small elongated hexagon in the middle, and the third encompasses the two," Angie tried to explain as best as she could, tilting her head trying to remember her brand new Mark.

"Are they all parallel to each other, or is the larger one perpendicular? Any color?" I asked for clarification. In the past timeline, I never asked, and Angie never told us.

"No, just black and parallel," She responded, trying to recall it again.

"Well, if that the case, then you're an archer. If the larger one was perpendicular to the two overlapping ones, you would have been a lancer," I explained as simply as I could.

"Are you sure?" Angie asked, leaning forwards from her seat.

"Well, from what you told me, yeah; unless, you want to show it to me, to be 100% accurate," I answered. Although I'm not an expert at reading Mark's, I'm aware of True Archers.

"No, that's fine," Angie immediately said, her cheeks gaining some color.

"Well, while I say that, the truth is that mark styles are more like guidelines than hard facts. You would excel as an archer, but you don't have to; in the end, you're a pure augmentor. As long as you use augmentor spells, you can do anything you want," I added, changing the subject.

"What makes you think I wanna do anything relating to magic?" Angie uncharacteristically snapped back.

"Oh right, sorry. I got caught up in my own world. I just started talking like that," I responded apologetically.

'There's a reason why Angela is here as an orphan is the same reason for Mike and Rose, their parents died, doing their jobs. They were all Adventures who chose to use their Marks to fight and ended paying for that decision with their lives.

It's no surprise why even Rose, who's had her Mark since she was 11 wants nothing to do with magic.'

"No, it's fine. I guess I'm a mark one now, so I have to register. Whether I want to be one or not, I am now," Rose added, her face showing a complex set of emotions.

"I'm guessing the Mark appeared somewhere embarrassing?" I said, trying to change the topic.

"It appeared right under my right..." she started saying, only to mumble the end.

"What?" I repeated more instinctively than curiously.

"It appeared right under my right..." she echoed, her face totally flushed with blood.

"You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to," I added, seeing her squirming in her chair.

After what felt like an eternity Rose and Mike came back, who almost immediately got informed by Angie of her new state.

Rose's fatigue-filled face disappeared in an instant as she jumped up in joy towards the news. She had a hard time being the only girl within her friend group or the Orphanage. While I had a Mark, the fact that I was a guy meant I could never fully understand what she was going through.

Mike, on the other hand, wasn't as ecstatic. While similar to Rose and Angie, he never thought of wanting a Mark now that he was the only one without one made him feel left out.

'If I'm correct, he won't have to wait long.'

Unfortunately, the celebration didn't last long since Rose and Mike were tired; we all went to sleep relatively early for summer vacation.

'I know where Rose's Mark is since two years ago I accidentally walked in on her when she was changing, but I wonder where Angela's is.'

Before I knew it, I opened my eyes to the sweet sounds of Mike's shrills. He had woken up to go to the bathroom, only to scream when he looked in the mirror.

"What the hell are you screaming for so early in the morning? It's only 4 am," I heard Angie's frustrated and groggy voice from my bed.

"Look! Look, I got mine!" Mike yelled in excitement, running from the bathroom to show the unamused Angie.

"Wow, congratulations," Angie said, her voice filled with sarcasm. She then added, "Couldn't you have waited until later on the day?" Closing the door behind her, leaving Mike alone in the living room.

Mike, not losing his enthusiasm, ran back to our room and stood next to my bed.

"Hey, J. Are you awake? Psst, Jason," Mike loudly whispered.

I turned around and faced my back to him as I wrapped myself tighter in my bedcover.

'Sorry, buddy, but I'm a growing boy. I need my sleep.'

I knocked out again.

Two hours later, I got woken up by Mike as he shook me. Slightly startled, I had to physically stop myself from knocking Mike's teeth out.

"What? Mike, what's up?" I said, my voice raspy and deep.

"Hey, so... about my Mark, can you tell me what my style is?" Mike said, still shaking me.

"You're an assassin, thief, or rogue, whatever you want to call it," I said groggily, trying to no avail to open my left eyes.

I have a strict morning regiment, but that doesn't mean I'm a morning person. When I deviate from that routine, I am not really a very smart morning person.

"What? How do you know that? You haven't even looked at it yet. C'mon, tell me what it is," Mike said, dragging me out of bed. "It's already 6 am, c'mon."

'Fuck! I really told him. Well, he didn't believe me, at least. Let's just hope he gets something else, and I can avoid trying to explain how I knew otherwise.'

I crawled out of my bed and went to the bathroom to wake up.

A few moments later, we were all sitting on the small couch under the window in the living room. Mike sat in my chair in front of us, eagerly awaiting his result, while Angie and Rose sat next to me, pushing me to the side of the couch.

'Why am I on the corner when I am the one that has to tell Mike his style?'

"So, SO?" Mike eagerly said, jumping on his chair.

"I thought you didn't want anything to do with magic?" I asked, still having difficulty sitting awake.

"Never mind that. C'mon tell me," Mike urged.

"Well then, let me see it. What am I? A psychic?" I said, forcing my head to stay upright.

As if it finally clicked in. Mike lifted the shirt to show a Mark with 10 stars directly under his right nipple. His Mark was three overlapping hexagons, two overlapping horizontally to form an elongated hexagon in between, while the third overlapped with the elongated hexagon in its center. The three hexagons were laid out horizontally.

"Ah!" Angie exclaimed as she covered her face slightly.

'So, that's where it was, huh?'

"Well, my knee-jerk reaction earlier was correct; you're an assassin or any variation you want to call it," I said.

"Which is better, mine or Angela's?" Mike immediately asked.

"Angie's without a doubt; she's an incredibly unique type of augmentor, while yours at best is uncommon," I said with no hesitation.

"Whaa!? Are you sure? What makes her's so special and not mine?" Mike asked in disbelief.

"She's a True Archer; while they're many who use archery as a medium to fight, most of them can only use one aspect of archery to their advantage. Conjures can only enhance, create, or manipulate the arrows. Augmentor can only enhance or manipulate the bow to increase its power. While Artificers can only make a bow and whatever features they add to it, they are stuck with. A True Archer can take advantage of all three, making them the only type of long-distance augmenters to currently exist."

"You are an assassin; while uncommon, there are still plenty of them running around. By the way, your talents and potential would lie in speed and pure attack power while you suck at any defensive capabilities. It matches your personality quite nicely," I explained.

"What? Aw, man," Mike lamented.

"Whoo! Hahaha. Suck it, Shard," Angie rejoiced.

"Wait, what do you mean, it fits my personality? How am I an assassin? Am I a natural-born killer?" Mike asked while flipping off Angie.

"No," I responded, laughing a bit, then I added, "You're just a coward."

Angie roared in laughter at my comment.

"It's not a bad thing; in the end, bravery is only for dead fools, while it's the cowards who survive," I continued before Mike could respond.

"Ha! Suck it, Lee. But what do you mean by a coward, man?" Mike said, half in celebration and half in confusion.

"You hate pain, so even when you fought, you would sucker punch your opponent and run. If you couldn't run away, you would spend the rest of the fight dodging hit, waiting for me to finish them off," I added.

"You make it sound like I left you hanging!" Mike said.

"Ah! A coward, it suits you, Shard," Angie was roaring in laughter.

"Well, I'm a coward too," I added, laying my head on my arm on top of the couch's armrests.

"What? No, you're not!" Rose finally spoke.

"I am maybe not physically, some might even say I have a death wish, but I mean emotionally. I am. I don't let people in, so when they eventually leave, it doesn't hurt me, so I run away from emotional situations," I said while yawning.

"J, that's not true. You have us, remember?" Rose added.

"The three of you are the only exception," I responded as Rose placed her hand on my shoulder.

I only nodded in response.

'It was because of you three dying that I became emotionally callous in the first place.'

After that little conversation, we(they) spent the next few minutes talking about Mark's and magic, making Rose explain the basics to them. Explaining to them that they have to register for the Mana Ed class; that is mandatory for all Marked students. Since if those with a Mark don't control their mana, they could end up hurting themselves or others around them.

Aside from myself, Rose has had her Mark since she was 10, making her the longest Mark One in the room. Of course, her Mark was naturally created while mine was transplanted, which caused Rose to have almost 10 times the amount of mana that I had. Unfortunately, her theory of mana and magic has always been sub-par; intentionally, as she only learned enough to not cause trouble, but that was it.

"You can only use magic that relates to your Mark type and style, so be careful if using any other type could end up hurting you," Rose finished explaining, causing my ears to perk up.

'I'm not one of those people who says 'well actually' I swear.'

"Well, actually, that's not actually true," I blurted out.

'Maybe, I am.'

"Sorry, don't mean to cut you short there, but that's not true. Mark styles are only at best guidelines, not stone-laid laws. Mark types only signified how our bodies process mana and what types of mana. Mark styles those are...," I paused slightly to think how to phrase it, "they are correlation, not causation."

"What do you mean? That Mark styles aren't real?" Rose asked, her voice filled with genuine curiosity.

"Is anything actually real?" I asked more existentially than I intended.