Advanced Nurturing High School was an institution with strict regulations. Unless a major incident occurred, outsiders—including students' parents—were not permitted to enter the campus. No exceptions were made for anyone.
However, society was never truly fair.
There would always be people who could trample over the rules as they pleased.
"Hurry up and say whatever you need to. I have plans with my friends later."
"Friends? Don't make me laugh, Kiyotaka. Someone like you couldn't possibly have any friends."
The man before him uttered words that no father should ever say to his son.
And yet, it was completely in line with his character.
This man firmly believed in his absolute sense of justice—so much so that he would never allow his judgments to be questioned, no matter how one-sided they were.
Kiyotaka spoke calmly, "Nothing you say here will have any effect on me. It won't change my future in the slightest."
"Oh? Still in your rebellious phase? I've already had the school prepare your withdrawal papers. I just spoke with the principal—once you say 'yes,' this will all be over."
"I have no reason to drop out."
"The fact that I ordered you to is reason enough."
The man's words were utterly unreasonable, to the point that anyone who heard them would find them repulsive.
And yet, few would ever dare to defy him.
Under the sharp intensity of his gaze, most people would feel as though their very soul had been laid bare—as if they had been stripped of all defenses.
However, Kiyotaka met his eyes head-on.
"If that's all you came to say, you might as well leave. Even as my father, you have no authority to force me out of this school."
"What a baseless statement. A parent can absolutely decide their child's future."
"That's impossible." Kiyotaka's voice carried unwavering certainty. "If you could truly expel me by force, you would have done so without hesitation. Yet, instead, you came all the way here to try and convince me to leave. That alone proves that even you have no power over this government-backed institution."
Kiyotaka knew this man well enough to deduce the truth.
"Not to mention, your usual bodyguards are nowhere to be seen. Someone as universally despised as you should never be without them—not even to use the restroom. And yet, here you are, alone. That can only mean that the influential figures backing this school didn't allow you to bring them inside."
—If you couldn't even bring your bodyguards, then forcing me to drop out was out of the question.
The man's silence spoke volumes. Kiyotaka's reasoning had clearly struck a nerve.
"From this, I can conclude that this school is, at the very least, not your ally. If you make a scene and this gets exposed to the public, your ambitions—your so-called 'glorious comeback'—will vanish into thin air."
The higher one's status, the more their actions were constrained.
Kiyotaka knew just how powerful this man was. But because of that very power, he couldn't act recklessly.
"…Did Matsuo tell you all this? Is that why he encouraged you to enroll in this school?"
The mention of that name stirred a faint memory.
A face resurfaced in Kiyotaka's mind.
During the year when the White Room had been temporarily shut down, a butler had been entrusted with his care.
It was through him that Kiyotaka first learned about Advanced Nurturing High School, and Matsuo had handled all of his enrollment procedures.
"Speaking of which, aren't you curious about what happened to Matsuo?"
"Not at all."
The fate of someone who had defied their employer wasn't difficult to imagine.
Kiyotaka had no interest in knowing. But the man before him seemed determined to make him listen.
"Matsuo went behind my back, telling you about this school and enrolling you without my permission. Such a disgraceful, unforgivable betrayal had to be punished."
His words carried an unmistakable weight, his piercing gaze pressing down like an iron grip—forcing the listener's mind to spiral toward the worst conclusions.
Kiyotaka, however, simply wished for this tedious conversation to end as soon as possible.
"You've already figured it out, haven't you? Matsuo has been dismissed."
"That was a logical decision."
In Kiyotaka's memory, Matsuo had been a man in his late fifties.
A gentle and caring individual, the type whom children naturally gravitated toward.
Matsuo had only become a father in his forties, but that came at the cost of his wife, who had died in childbirth. Ever since, he had single-handedly raised his son with unwavering devotion. He often spoke of his child with immense pride, calling him his greatest source of joy.
Kiyotaka had never met the son in person. But from what Matsuo had said, the boy was hardworking—determined to build a successful future to repay his father's sacrifices.
The smile Matsuo wore when speaking of his son remained vividly imprinted in Kiyotaka's memory.
"You know, don't you? You know just how much pride Matsuo had in his son."
The man spoke as if he could read Kiyotaka's mind, cutting straight to the core of his thoughts.
"He was the same age as you. Through sheer effort, he passed the entrance exams and was accepted into a prestigious private high school… But now, he's no longer a student there."
He hadn't said it outright. But the implication was clear.
As punishment for Matsuo's betrayal, his son's enrollment had been revoked.
This man was more than capable of such ruthless, senseless cruelty.
"Matsuo's son was strong-willed. Even after losing his place in his dream school, he didn't give up—he immediately enrolled in another high school, determined to start over. So, I decided to do everything in my power to crush him. No matter where he applied, I made sure he was rejected. Eventually, he was forced to abandon school altogether."
"As for Matsuo, I spread rumors and tarnished his reputation throughout his entire professional network. No one would hire him. In the end, his son lost his future, and he lost his livelihood."
After hearing everything, Ayanokoji felt neither joy nor sorrow.
To be honest, if this man had come all this way just to say these things, it was utterly uninteresting.
However, Ayanokoji knew that the man's intention wasn't to make him feel guilty.
"That guy betrayed me, so he deserved to pay the price." The man continued his long-winded story. "But Matsuo took it harder than I expected. He was always a responsible and kind man. Ever since his wife passed away, his only concern had been his son. He must have been tormented by the thought that his reckless actions had ruined his son's future. In order to save him, he begged me to back off. As compensation, last month, he—"
It sounded as if the man was blaming Ayanokoji for Matsuo and his son being driven into a corner.
But in truth, both of them knew it was meaningless.
The man only wanted to send a clear message to his son—if you anger me, I will show no mercy.
Matsuo's fate was nothing more than an example, a warning to the other White Room staff.
From this perspective, the man had said more than necessary.
He had inadvertently exposed the instability within the White Room.
"Hmph, the man who helped and cared for you is dead, his son can barely make a living doing odd jobs, and yet you seem completely uninterested in any of it."
Though his words were laced with mockery, the man's lips curled slightly.
Perhaps he was satisfied that his masterpiece hadn't been tainted.
"Are you done? I'd like to leave now."
"Kiyotaka, it hasn't been that long since I last saw you, but you've changed so much. What exactly happened during that blank period? What made you decide to enroll in this school?"
That was likely the reason the man had come looking for him—to find out.
Ayanokoji replied flatly, "Maybe it's because I received the best education in the White Room. As a first-year high school student, my knowledge far surpasses most people in this world. But precisely because of that, I accidentally discovered something. I started wanting to learn about the 'mundane' things you find so dull and chose to discard."
"You have been poisoned by Matsuo." The man scoffed. "I've had people look into your time at this tedious school. In terms of ability alone, you are undoubtedly the best. But because of this so-called 'mundanity,' you will never be able to replicate your past self from the White Room."
As the founder of the White Room, he naturally understood the fatal flaw in his masterpiece—and all White Room students.
That was their inability to function in complex social environments.
White Room students had always lived under a single system, their only goal being to achieve higher scores.
But that also meant their mental maturity was stunted, leaving them unable to truly understand what they wanted.
"You say this place is dull? Not entirely. This school is also cultivating talent. Maybe it can even answer the question of whether people are truly equal. I find that rather interesting."
"Hmph, then you're completely mistaken."
The man sneered at Ayanokoji's words.
"Listen, there might be a handful of exceptional students here, but they are either born that way or products of coincidence. Such individuals can appear anywhere. This school didn't create them through training. Do you think that if you and I were the same age, even if my abilities were far inferior to yours, I wouldn't still be able to toy with you as I pleased?"
"Perhaps so."
Ayanokoji neither agreed nor refuted the claim—not because he thought it was meaningless to answer seriously, but because he genuinely didn't know.
The man wasn't exaggerating; he was simply stating facts.
He was no ordinary individual, yet he could hardly be called a genius either.
Academically average, a graduate from an unremarkable university, possessing no special athletic talent, and with a perfectly ordinary wife—yet, in the end, he had surpassed everyone around him, his influence even capable of shaking the entire nation.
All of it stemmed from his sheer ambition and relentless determination.
In the past, Ayanokoji often wondered—could an ordinary person surpass geniuses with just those two intangible qualities?
But ever since coming to this school… he was slowly starting to see the answer.
The man continued, "People like that are rare. Most of the students here are nothing but rabble. There must be some in your class too—those hopeless, bottom-of-the-barrel failures."
"Even if they are rabble, who's to say they won't one day stand on the same stage as geniuses?"
"If that's what you truly believe, then you should be following my path, not opposing it."
"This conversation is pointless. You must have realized by now—our views will never align."
Ayanokoji determined that continuing the discussion would be a waste of time and prepared to leave.
Just then, a knock came at the reception room door.
"Excuse me."
A calm voice accompanied the slow opening of the door, revealing a man who appeared to be in his forties.
"It's been a while, Ayanokoji-sensei."
The unknown visitor bowed deeply, like a subordinate greeting a superior.
"…Sakayanagi. That's a familiar face. It's been about seven or eight years, hasn't it?"
"Yes, ever since I inherited my father's position as chairman, we haven't met. Time does fly."
Sakayanagi—the chairman? Was he related to Class B's Sakayanagi?
Ayanokoji quickly made the connection. From their conversation, it was evident that this chairman had once been involved with the White Room.
Just as he was thinking that, the chairman turned to him. "You must be Ayanokoji-sensei's…son. Kiyotaka, wasn't it? This is our first time speaking directly, I believe."
…Directly?
The roundabout phrasing suggested that they had seen each other before.
Most likely, just like his daughter, he had only observed from behind a glass barrier—otherwise, Ayanokoji would have remembered.
"Sensei, I heard from the principal that you plan to have Kiyotaka expelled."
"That's right. Since his guardian has made the request, the school must comply immediately."
If the chairman was like the principal and easily swayed by power, things would become dire.
Fortunately, Ayanokoji's concern was unnecessary.
"You're mistaken." Sakayanagi denied it without hesitation. "Parents do hold significant authority, but the student's own opinion should also be respected. Have you considered leaving, Kiyotaka-kun?"
"Not even once," Ayanokoji answered immediately.
"What a farce. Sakayanagi, you've changed. Where's the you who once agreed with me?"
It seemed these two shared a deep history—something beyond mere friendship or rivalry.
"I still respect you, Ayanokoji-sensei. But I inherited this school because I agreed with my father's vision. You, of all people, should understand that. This school's policies haven't changed since my father's time."
"I won't deny your approach. But you should know—Kiyotaka is capable of changing Japan's future." The man began his monologue again. "Even the so-called 'failures' from the White Room surpass students from other schools in every way. If my plan succeeds, children will go from infancy to exceptional talent in record time. This world will be reshaped."
Like those prodigies who make headlines for entering prestigious universities as elementary schoolers—this was the ultimate goal of the White Room.
To mass-produce geniuses.
This was only the experimental phase—a battle aimed at shaping the next fifty, even hundred years.
But Ayanokoji couldn't care less about Japan's future. In a hundred years, everyone would be dust anyway.
"Sorry, Ayanokoji-sensei. I understand your vision, but I… I want to change society in my way." Sakayanagi declared, slow but resolute.
"Hmph, all you can produce here are accidental successes. Most of them are just mediocre, no different from students at any other school."
His words were sharp, but the man must have realized that he couldn't act recklessly.
He was out of options now, wasn't he?
"Perhaps that's true, but I won't change my beliefs."
"Suit yourself. Either way, your school isn't entirely useless to me," the man said meaningfully. "Every now and then, someone useful does emerge—like you. Who knows? Maybe one day, you'll end up aiding my plans."
Sakayanagi's father let out a wry smile at those words but did not respond.
"Well, that's enough for today. I know what to do next."
The man rose from the sofa.
"What are you planning to do? If you act too recklessly—"
"I know. I don't intend to cause trouble on your turf."
Even so, it wasn't that he was giving up. He had simply shifted his approach.
That was what this man excelled at.
"Looks like we've said everything we needed to. I'll take my leave now."
"I'll see you out."
"No need. I won't be coming back here anyway."
With that, the man opened the door and left without another word.
But outside in the hallway, a familiar figure appeared.
Hikigaya? What a surprise.
Considering he was a student council member, he was likely here on official business. He was even carrying some documents.
No need to pay him any mind.
However, the man seemed to take notice of Hikigaya. He even stopped in his tracks and turned back to glance at him.
Hikigaya, realizing this, did his best to lower his presence... A truly impressive skill. Was this some kind of instinct for avoiding danger?
It reminded Ayanokoji of that night when he and Horikita Manabu faced off. Back then, he hadn't actually sensed Hikigaya's presence—he had only noticed a faint shadow cast by a streetlight from his angle.
That level of skill would even earn him a ranking in White Room.
Did that man also recognize Hikigaya's talent? Or was it something else?
Well, since Hikigaya was here, this was a good opportunity to have a conversation.
From his brief exchange with Sakayanagi's father, Ayanokoji had learned that Hikigaya was delivering documents to the principal. So, he waited near the office, and before long, he caught up to him.
"Want to have a chat?"
"There's nothing to talk about."
As always, Hikigaya was on high alert.
Ayanokoji didn't back down and rephrased his approach. "Let me put it another way. I actually have a question for you—one I also asked Horikita and Chabashira-sensei."
"…What is it?"
Sure enough, Hikigaya's curiosity was piqued.
"Do you think modern Japan is an equal society?"
"Uh…" Hikigaya looked puzzled, his gaze somewhat uncomfortable. Even so, he gave it serious thought before answering.
"If you asked a hundred people, I bet a hundred of them would say it's not equal."
"Yeah, I think so too," Ayanokoji nodded. "But I want to hear your personal opinion. What do you think?"
"I think… I want to slap you for asking such a boring question."
Rolling his eyes, Hikigaya turned and walked away.
But Ayanokoji caught something in his words—something different.
Deep down, Hikigaya might have believed in equality. Yet, his rational side told him that the world was anything but equal. That was why he instinctively dodged the question.
Of course, only he himself knew the truth.
"Hey, wait a second."
Ayanokoji quickly caught up—there was still something important he had to say.
"You weren't wrong just now. That man you passed by… He's my father."
"Yeah… figured as much. He had that 'big-shot' aura."
Hikigaya's tone carried a subtle nuance—this wasn't just sarcasm.
Given that the school prohibited parental visits, the fact that this rule had been broken meant that only someone truly influential could have made it happen.
But Ayanokoji doubted that Hikigaya had reached that conclusion through logic alone. Rather, he had sensed that something was off about that man.
His intuition was as terrifying as ever. If he were an enemy, he'd be a real problem.
"Hikigaya, I know you don't agree with what I've done." Ayanokoji spoke honestly. "And I won't bother saying I've reflected on it—you wouldn't believe me anyway."
"Nope. I'd just pretend I didn't hear it."
"You're free to think whatever you want. I just wanted to tell you one thing."
Ayanokoji paused before continuing.
"The reason I've been acting for the sake of my class… is because Chabashira-sensei used my father's name to threaten me with expulsion."
As he spoke, Ayanokoji carefully observed the subtle changes in Hikigaya's expression.
It seemed that Hikigaya wasn't surprised by this at all—he had likely already guessed it or heard about it from Chabashira.
If it were anyone else, Ayanokoji might have doubted their ability to deduce such things. But when it came to Hikigaya, there was no question—he was more than capable.
In fact, during Paper Shuffle, Chabashira had already displayed some suspicious behavior.
She was probably just like Horikita, secretly assisting Hikigaya.
However, none of that mattered now. There was no need to dwell on it.
This reunion with his father had left Ayanokoji feeling no particular emotion—but even so, it had been a fruitful day.
If he could successfully convince Hikigaya here, he could take this opportunity to step off the stage.
"My father came here to demand my withdrawal from school, but the chairman firmly rejected his request. In other words, I no longer have to worry about Chabashira's threats."
"…So what?"
"So from now on, I will no longer act for the sake of the class."
Ayanokoji took a slight breath and finished what he had to say in one go.
"Whether it's Horikita, Ryuuen, or Sakayanagi—no matter what they try to do, I will no longer interfere with Class D. The only thing I want is to spend the rest of my school life peacefully with my friends. That is my truth."