The bus was packed, filled with students in identical uniforms. The fabric of my blazer pressed uncomfortably against my back, the crimson tie cinched tight against my throat. I adjusted it, feeling the heat from so many bodies in such a confined space. It was my first day at Advanced Nurturing High School, and as I sat quietly, observing, my mind wandered to a familiar question.
If I may, I'd like to pose an interesting question: 'Are all human beings truly equal?'
The bus doors hissed open at the station, and an elderly woman stepped aboard, gripping the metal railing for support. The other students barely seemed to notice her, engrossed in their conversations, their own little worlds.
These days, everywhere you go, there's talk about the fight for equality, I thought as my eyes followed the old woman, who struggled to stand amidst the crowd.
As a wise man once said, 'Heaven does not create one person above or below another.' People like to throw these words around. But that's not the whole quote. It goes on to say that, '...while we are all equal at birth, pretty soon, things begin to change.'
The bus jerked into motion, causing the old woman to sway. I watched silently as she struggled to keep her balance.
Academic effort is what sets some people apart to rise above the others, I mused. At any rate, humans change over time based on their actions. Truth be told, at the end of the day, equality is just a fantasy. And most of us go through life denying the fact that we live in a meritocracy.
"Uhm, excuse me, sir?" A voice cut through my thoughts. I turned to see a girl standing a few seats away. She had short beige-colored hair, gradient crimson eyes, and a well-endowed figure. She seemed to radiate a certain charm, drawing the attention of the boys around her. "Would you be willing to give up your seat?" she asked sweetly.
My gaze shifted to the person she was addressing—a tall, well-built young man with shoulder-length blonde hair and brown eyes. He lounged in his seat, his posture relaxed, a faint smirk on his lips.
"My, my, you're a pretty girl," the young man replied, his tone amused. "I understand that this is priority seating, honey, but there's no law forcing me to give it up. You think I should have to stand up just because I'm still young?" He chuckled, crossing his legs. "What a bunch of ageist nonsense. Sure, I'm younger than her, but standing uses way more energy than sitting. Tell me, why must I sacrifice my health for this lady's sake?"
He has a point, I thought. Legally, he's not obligated to give up his seat. The law does not mandate politeness. He's invoking the idea of fairness from a self-centered perspective. If he's not hurting anyone directly, why should he inconvenience himself?
"Because you'd be contributing to the greater good of humanity," the girl countered, her voice firm. "And just take a look at her, she's having trouble staying upright."
The greater good, I reflected. A concept often used to justify small sacrifices for a larger purpose. She's appealing to a sense of community and empathy. But what is 'the greater good' to those who only see the world through their own eyes? Her argument hinges on a collective responsibility, something not everyone values equally.
The blonde man shrugged, clearly uninterested. "I have zero interest in contributing to the greater good. And anyway, there are plenty of other jerks on this bus who could give up their seats. Furthermore, I don't see much difference between a priority seat and a regular one, so ask someone else to be a hero."
Indifference, I noted. To him, the concept of a 'greater good' is meaningless. He dismisses collective responsibility as someone else's problem, and he's not wrong—people will often do only what they feel personally obligated to do. It's easier to assume that someone else will take action.
The elderly woman smiled weakly, raising a hand. "To tell the truth, dear, I don't mind standing. Don't worry, but thank you all the same."
The girl didn't give up, her voice rising above the chatter. "Excuse me! Would anyone on this bus be willing to give up their seats to this sweet lady?"
My eyes drifted to the other passengers, scanning the faces. I noticed a girl sitting across from me, her nose buried in a book, seemingly oblivious to the commotion. Her black hair fell neatly around her shoulders, her posture straight and proper.
She's not concerned with the conflict, I thought, observing her. She's focused on her own world, unbothered by the chaos around her. Maybe it's a choice to remain uninvolved.
I turned my attention to another student, sitting quietly a few seats away. He was a handsome young man with black hair and violet eyes, his features sharp and aristocratic. He was somewhat scrawny, lacking the athletic build of many of the other boys. His eyes met mine briefly, and I noted a flicker of recognition, a brief moment of connection.
Not Japanese, I thought. He's wearing the same uniform, so he must be a schoolmate. Based on his appearance, he might be from Europe—a foreign student.
A young adult woman raised her hand, standing up from her seat. "Over here, I'll stand," she said, her voice calm and collected.
"Thank you very much, ma'am!" the girl with the beige hair exclaimed, flashing a grateful smile. The woman made her way down the aisle, allowing the elderly woman to take her seat.
The bus continued on its route, the noise settling down as the argument ended. I leaned back in my seat, closing my eyes for a moment.
Equality, morality, justice... The words echoed in my mind. Concepts that sound noble but are so easily twisted and manipulated. People like to think they're fighting for a better world, but often, they're just fighting for their own self-interest.
Each side in this little drama had a valid point. One sought individual comfort, the other, societal harmony. But who is right? Perhaps both, perhaps neither. It's all about perspective, about the values each person holds. The truth is, there is no absolute right or wrong, only different shades of gray.
Suddenly, the television at the front of the bus flickered to life, drawing the attention of the passengers. An urgent news report flashed on the screen.
"Breaking news: Clovis la Britannia, the envoy of the Holy Britannian Empire for peace, was found dead in his room. The cause of death has been confirmed as a gunshot wound, but the identity of the killer remains unknown. The killing was clean, leaving investigators with few leads. The question now is, what will happen to the proposed peace between Britannia and Japan, now that their envoy has been murdered?"
I watched as the foreign student I had noticed earlier stiffened slightly, his eyes narrowing. It was a subtle change, not noticeable to most, but I caught it—a flicker of shock, quickly masked.
Interesting, I thought. He reacted to the news of Clovis's death. Perhaps he has ties to Britannia.
Before I could think more on it, the broadcast shifted. The screen filled with the image of a man with a commanding presence, his expression severe, his eyes cold and piercing. The passengers around me fell silent, their attention riveted on the screen.
The Emperor of Britannia, I thought, recognizing the figure. His aura demanded attention, respect, even fear.
The Emperor began to speak, his voice resonating with authority. "All men... are NOT created equal!" he declared.
Not created equal? I pondered. An assertion that denies the very idea of universal equality. It's a bold statement, one that cuts to the heart of his ideology. But it's not entirely wrong. In reality, differences are inevitable—genetics, circumstances, choices... all contribute to inequality.
"Some are born swifter afoot, some with greater beauty, some are born into poverty and others born sick and feeble. Both in birth and upbringing, in sheer scope of ability, every human is inherently different."
True enough. People are different, and those differences shape our lives. But is that justification for a hierarchy? For an empire built on the premise that some lives are worth more than others?
"Yes, that is why people discriminate against one another, which is why there is struggle, competition, and the unfaltering march of progress."
He equates struggle with progress, competition with advancement. Perhaps he sees it as a natural order, survival of the fittest. But at what cost?
"Inequality is not wrong, equality is."
This is where his philosophy diverges. He sees equality as a threat, a lie that prevents true greatness. But does inequality really drive progress, or does it simply create suffering?
"What of the E.U. which made equality a right? Rabble politics by a popularity contest. The Chinese Federation with its equal distribution of wealth? A nation of lazy dullards."
He dismisses alternative systems as weak, flawed. To him, only Britannia's way is valid. But different systems reflect different values. Equality might be a fantasy, but so is the absolute dominance he seeks.
"But not our beloved Britannia, we fight, we compete, evolution is continuous. Britannia alone moves forward, advancing steadily into the future."
Progress through conflict, evolution through struggle. It's a harsh philosophy, one that accepts collateral damage as necessary. But is that truly progress, or just a cycle of violence?
"Even the death of my son, Clovis, demonstrates Britannia's unswerving commitment to progress."
Sacrifice, even of one's own blood, for the sake of an ideology. What kind of father thinks like that? What kind of leader demands such loyalty?
"We will fight on, we shall struggle, compete, plunder, and dominate, and in the end, the future shall be ours. ALL HAIL BRITANNIA!!!!!"
The bus erupted in whispers, students and civilians alike reacting to the Emperor's words. I remained silent, my mind processing what I had heard.
So, this is the world we live in, I thought. A world where power is everything, where the strong rule over the weak. And those who cannot keep up are left behind, discarded. A world where equality is a lie, and justice is nothing more than a tool for those in power.
A soft "tsk" caught my attention. I turned my gaze back to the foreign student, noting the subtle tightening of his jaw, the flicker of anger in his eyes.
He disagrees, I realized. He sees the world differently, or at least, he resents the Emperor's vision. There's more to him than meets the eye.
The bus rumbled along, carrying us toward our destination. I leaned back in my seat, continuing my silent contemplation. The Emperor's speech reflected a harsh reality—a world where only the strong survive, where inequality is seen as the driving force of humanity. But perhaps, it's not just about strength or weakness. Perhaps, it's about how we choose to navigate this meritocracy, how we define our own roles, our own purpose.
In this world, there are no equals. Only the strong, and those who seek to become stronger.
As the bus pulled up to the entrance of Tokyo Metropolitan Advanced Nurturing High School, students began filing out, their chatter filling the air with excitement and anticipation. I stepped off the bus and took in the sight of the imposing school building ahead.
Well, this is it, my new school, I thought as I surveyed the entrance. Tokyo Metropolitan Advanced Nurturing High School, established by the United States of Japan, Europia United, and the Chinese Federation to raise students who've been deemed our country's future leaders, movers, and shakers, if you will. And it works too, it boasts 100% college entry and employment rates. Using experimental state-directed teaching methods, they pulled out all the stops to build a bright future.
As I walked toward the entrance, I noticed the girl from the bus—the one with long black hair tied in a braid with a pink bow, her gradient red eyes still focused and stern. Her stern expression hadn't changed since I'd last seen her. She caught my gaze and, to my surprise, approached me.
"Hey, you!" she called out, her voice sharp. "I noticed you staring at me on the bus earlier. Why was that?"
I paused, considering how to respond. "Oh. I'm sorry. I was just curious because, well, you didn't want to give up your seat either. I was wondering if, like me, you'd rather stay out of it."
She narrowed her eyes slightly, her gaze piercing. "I'm nothing like you. In my case, I stayed silent as a matter of principle."
Uh-huh, I thought, her response intriguing me. That makes her worse than me. She chose to remain uninvolved not out of indifference, but because of some internal code of conduct.
"If that's all, goodbye," she added curtly before turning on her heel and walking away without waiting for a response.
I watched her go, her rigid posture and determined stride revealing her unyielding nature. There was something more to her, something she wasn't revealing. But for now, it wasn't my concern. I had other things to focus on.
The ceremony had been going on for a while, and it was nearing its end when I reached the covered court where students had gathered. The Orientation Ceremony Host, a tall, composed young man, stood on the stage addressing the crowd.
"...And now, a few words from the student council president," the host announced, stepping aside as a tall, composed young man took the stage.
"Thank you for the introduction," he began, his voice calm and authoritative. "I am Manabu Horikita. Newcomers, as a representative of the upperclassmen and your student council president, I extend a warm welcome to you all. As I'm sure you're aware, our school is known for its prestige and distinction on all fronts and boasts impeccable employment and college entry rates across the board. We take pride in this. In fact, it's our school's number one priority. We all work together to uphold the standard of excellence. Now, you are a part of that too. We expect greatness from all of you. And we know you are capable."
His words were carefully chosen, each one reinforcing the weight of the expectations placed upon us. I scanned the crowd, my eyes landing on the foreign student from the bus. He was seated a few rows ahead, his expression inscrutable.
We're even in the same class? I wondered. It was an interesting coincidence, one that made me even more curious about him.
As I continued to observe, I noticed another student sitting a few seats away from the foreigner. This one also stood out—not just because he wasn't Japanese, but because of his striking appearance. He had short, middle-parted platinum blond hair, light blue eyes, and pale skin. He was exceptionally handsome, almost ethereal, with a slender build and delicate facial features. There was something about him that exuded both elegance and mystery.
Another foreigner, I mused. This school seems to attract students from all over. I wonder what their stories are.
"Access here is based entirely on merit," Manabu Horikita continued, his voice echoing through the court. "So you alone control your path."
The bell rang, signaling the end of the ceremony, and the students began to disperse. I stood up, my thoughts already shifting to what lay ahead. The game had begun, and every move would matter. In this world, there are no equals—only those who rise to the top and those who fall behind.
I made my way to my classroom, expecting to find the usual setup for a new term: rows of desks, a scattering of students already claiming their spots. But as I entered the room, I noticed it was far smaller than I had expected, with only eight chairs arranged in two rows of four. This struck me as odd, given that each class was supposed to have forty students. I wondered if there was some mistake or if this was part of the school's experimental approach.
Several students were already inside, each one distinct. The most striking was a very slim, pale, tall young man with messy neck-length black hair and black eyes. His shadowed eyes gave him an intense, almost haunted look. He sat with both feet on his chair, biting his fingernails, his posture odd and unsettling. His gaze flicked up to meet mine, and for a moment, I felt as if he was assessing me, just as I was assessing him.
Interesting, I thought. An insomniac, judging by those shadows. And that way of sitting... definitely unusual.
Next, I noticed a tall and lean young man with smooth fair skin and spiky maroon hair. His red eyes had dark bags under them, a sign of sleep deprivation, and he wore a sly grin that suggested he found everything around him amusing.
Another one who looks like he hasn't slept in days, I observed. What's he smiling about?
Beside him sat a child, no older than eleven. She had very long, messy white hair with pale blue, purple, pink, green, and yellow tints. Her large, passive golden-yellow eyes seemed to take in everything around her. She was slim and about average height for her age.
A child? I wondered, surprised. What is she doing here?
As I moved to take a seat, the two foreign students from earlier—the one with black hair and the platinum blond—entered the room and occupied the third column. Not wanting to stand out, I chose a seat in the back, blending into the background. I couldn't help but wonder if this was really the number of students in our class. The ceremony had mentioned each class having forty students, yet here there were only eight chairs.
Is something wrong? I mused. Why are there only eight of us?
Before I could think more on it, another student entered. He was a handsome young man, standing at above-average height with light-brown hair and brown eyes. He glanced around, taking in the room's peculiar arrangement before finding a seat.
I waited, expecting another student to follow, but instead, a man with pale skin, a slender build, dark eyes, and short black hair entered. He wore an amicable smile, but something about it seemed practiced, almost artificial. He wore a black academic dress, a small black mortarboard cap with a yellow tassel, and a large black tie with a yellow crescent-shaped moon on it.
Is the last student late? I wondered, watching the man closely. He doesn't seem like a student... more like a professor, although he looks young.
The man clapped his hands together, his voice upbeat and cheerful. "Ah, it seems everyone is already here!" he exclaimed in a silly, childish manner.
Everyone? I realized with a start. So, we really are only seven...
"Good morning, everyone!" the man continued, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "My name is Ryushi Korogane, but you can call me Koro-sensei. Some people like to call me 'The Reaper,' but don't worry, I'm not here to reap anyone's soul!" he added with a playful wink.
His demeanor was light-hearted, almost whimsical, yet there was a subtle edge to his words, a hint of seriousness beneath the surface.
"Now, before we get started, let's have everyone introduce themselves! We'll start with the handsome young man in front with the brown hair," Koro-sensei said, pointing to the student who had just entered.
The young man stood up, his posture confident. "I'm Light Yagami, but you can just call me Light. Being called by my last name feels too formal. My father is the chief of the National Police Agency, and sometimes I help them solve cases. I'm good at all subjects and tennis, and I plan to become a detective in the future."
Confident, intelligent, and well-connected, I thought, sizing him up. He's the type who knows what he wants and how to get it. A future detective... interesting.
The next pair to introduce themselves were the white-haired girl and the maroon-haired boy beside her. The boy grinned as he stood up, his arm draped casually over the back of his chair.
"I'm Sora, and this is my sister Shiro," he said, gesturing to the girl beside him. "She's not great at socializing, so I'll introduce us both. We've long abandoned our last name. We're NEETs and shut-ins, and this is the first time we've decided to attend school. Our names reflect emptiness—'sky' being empty of anything and 'white' being without color. Blank is our online game username, and we've never lost a game."
Sora's declaration caught my attention. Never lost a game? That's quite a claim. Altruism, egoism, it doesn't matter to them. Their focus is on games, on winning. Their world is defined by victories and losses. A stark contrast to the reality of most people.
The platinum blond-haired student from earlier raised an eyebrow. "Never lost a game? Statistically, that seems impossible."
The dark-haired young man sitting near me, the one with the insomniac eyes, nodded in agreement. "Yes, even the best players lose sometimes. It's inevitable."
Light Yagami chimed in, "I've heard of an urban legend about a gamer with the username Blank, holding the top score of over 280 games without a single recorded loss."
These introductions are going to determine everyone's standing in class, I thought. Should I try to crack a joke? I bet I could get a laugh if I acted really hyper. Or I'd just end up creeping people out. Anyway, it's not like I have any real interests or hobbies to speak of. Kinda like a free agent, a blank slate.
Koro-sensei laughed, cutting the discussion short. "Now, now, let's not get sidetracked. Keep the introductions coming!" He pointed to the young man with violet eyes.
The young man stood up with a casual grace. "My name is Lelouch Lamperouge, but you can just call me Lelouch. Unlike probably everyone in this class, I've never cared about schoolwork—I see the entire thing as trivial. I'm not fond of physical activities, but I'm quite good at chess." He glanced at Sora with a challenge in his eyes. "Perhaps I'll be the one to give Blank their first defeat."
Sora grinned, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Looking forward to it."
The next to introduce himself was the other foreigner with platinum blond hair. He stood up, his movements smooth and composed. "My name is Johan Liebert, but you can call me Johan. I enjoy socializing, and I'm from Germany. I excel in academics as well."
Sora looked at Lelouch, then back at Johan. "Not just Johan, but it seems Lelouch is from abroad as well. Europe, huh?"
Lelouch nodded. "I forgot to mention, I'm from Europe."
Europe... I thought, taking note. This class is more diverse than I expected.
The insomniac beside me was next. He paused before speaking, his voice quiet but clear. "My name is Rue Ryuzaki. I'm an international detective."
Koro-sensei's eyes twinkled with interest. "A detective, you say? How fascinating!"
Ryuzaki continued, "I'm good at tennis as well. I was a tennis champion in the England Junior Cup during my five-year stay there. And it's not just Lelouch and Johan—I'm a quarter Japanese, a quarter English, a quarter Russian, and a quarter French or Italian."
Ryuzaki's gaze then shifted to me, his dark eyes locking onto mine. "Your turn," he said simply.
No getting out of this one. I'd better muster up the energy to stand up and say something. For the sake of my reputation.
I stood up, feeling the weight of everyone's eyes on me. "Uh... So, um... I'm Kiyotaka Ayanokōji. Uh... I can't wait to study with you. Ah, um... I'm not really good at anything in particular. Uh... I'll do my best to get along with you all."
I blew it, I thought, cringing internally.
Koro-sensei clapped his hands, his smile wide. "Wonderful, wonderful! Now that we've all gotten to know each other a little better, we can start this exciting journey together! This is a special class, after all, and I'm looking forward to seeing how each of you shines in your own way."
I sat back, listening to the chatter around me as Koro-sensei began outlining the schedule and expectations for the class. My mind, however, was elsewhere, still processing the students around me. Each one was unique, with their own strengths, weaknesses, and secrets. This was no ordinary class. The game had indeed begun, and it was clear that I wasn't the only player.
Koro-sensei beamed at us, his smile wide and childlike. His demeanor was so cheerful and silly that it was hard to take him seriously, yet there was a certain gravity beneath his playful facade. "Now, dear students," he announced, clapping his hands together, "welcome to Class E! At this school, you will not change classes ever. For the next three years, I'll be responsible for you until graduation." His eyes twinkled as he looked around the room. "For our first order of business, the school rule book. Take one and pass them back, please."
A stack of small booklets was handed out, making its way down the rows. I took one and flipped through it absently, noting the standard academic regulations mixed with more unusual ones.
"We have some rather unique rules at this institution," Koro-sensei continued. "First, you must all live in the dorms. Your contact with the outside world will be restricted, as well as your time away from the campus. For anyone concerned, the school offers a wide variety of facilities. Anything you could need or want can be found here, including leisure and entertainment."
Sora's hand shot up. "So, we're basically trapped here?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I mean, cut off from the outside world... Sounds like a setup for a mystery game, doesn't it?"
Koro-sensei chuckled, wagging a finger at him. "Not trapped, my dear student, but immersed! A truly immersive learning experience! To make purchases, you will spend your points, which are tracked using the school's main computer system. At this school, you can buy absolutely anything on campus with these."
Light Yagami leaned forward, his brow furrowing. "Points? It sounds generous, but why so much freedom with our spending?"
Koro-sensei's smile widened, as if pleased by the question. "Points are distributed to you on the first of each month. Each point is worth one yen. If you all check your devices, you'll notice that you've already been allotted 100,000."
There were murmurs of surprise as everyone checked their phones. 100,000 yen per month was a substantial amount.
"This school judges its students based on their merit alone," Koro-sensei explained, his tone turning slightly more serious. "You've all shown immense value just by getting into the school. We've allotted you what we think you are worth."
Merit-based rewards, I thought. An interesting approach. It encourages students to excel, but it also implies that those who fail to meet expectations will suffer the consequences.
Lelouch, who had been listening quietly, raised his hand. "Why are we called Class E?" he asked. "During the orientation, only Classes A to D were mentioned. Is there a reason for that?"
Koro-sensei's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Ah, yes, very observant, Lelouch-kun! Originally, there were only Classes A to D. However, sometimes, a human with extraordinary talent is born, a prodigy among prodigies. These individuals are often referred to as 'once-in-a-generation' or 'generational talents.' But what happens when multiple generational talents enroll in the same school?"
"Oh, oh!" Sora waved his hand enthusiastically. "I get it! You wanted to see what would happen if you put all the super-talented kids together and let them fight it out! Like a battle royale of brains!"
Koro-sensei chuckled. "Precisely! Class E is an experimental class. We've gathered you here to see if, despite being at a disadvantage, you can rise to the top. To see if you can reach Class A, despite starting from the lowest point."
Lelouch's eyes narrowed, a calculating look crossing his face. "So, we're the so-called generational talents? And this is some kind of test?"
Koro-sensei nodded enthusiastically. "Bingo! This is a challenge to see how high you can climb! Of course, success won't be easy. You'll have to navigate numerous obstacles, both academic and social. But if you succeed, you'll prove that even those placed at a disadvantage can overcome and achieve greatness!"
Sora leaned back, grinning. "So, we've got to use everything at our disposal—our brains, our skills, our connections—to outdo the others. Makes sense. If this is a game, I'm in."
Koro-sensei looked around, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I think that's enough questions for now," he said cheerfully. "In about an hour, the opening ceremony will take place. Be sure to attend—it's an important tradition here at the Tokyo Metropolitan Advanced Nurturing High School! For now, feel free to explore the campus, get to know each other, or just relax."
He gave us a playful salute. "Good luck, students! Remember, the game has only just begun. See you all at the ceremony!" With that, he turned and practically bounced out of the room, leaving us to process everything we had just heard.
I remained seated for a moment, my thoughts swirling. An experimental class for so-called generational talents. A test to see if we could rise from Class E to Class A. It was clear that this school was unlike any other. Here, only the strongest would thrive.
I glanced around the room, noting the expressions of the others. Sora and Shiro were already discussing strategies, their voices low and excited. Johan sat quietly, his eyes half-closed as if lost in thought. Light Yagami's expression was calm, but his eyes held a gleam of interest. Lelouch's face was impassive, yet his mind was clearly working, analyzing, calculating. Ryuzaki continued to nibble on his nails, his eyes darting around as if seeing something the rest of us could not.
I stood up, deciding to take Koro-sensei's advice and explore the campus. As I walked out of the classroom, the reality of my situation settled over me. This was no ordinary school, and these were no ordinary students. The stakes were high, and the competition fierce. But I was ready. Ready to play, to learn, to adapt.
In this world, there are no equals. Only the strong, and those who seek to become stronger, I reminded myself as I headed towards the opening ceremony. The game had truly begun, and I was prepared to play my part.