Two months earlier, on a certain day in February.
In a meeting room at a facility in Tokyo, a man who appeared to be in his forties—Tsukishiro—was presenting data displayed on a screen.
Listening quietly were two young teenagers. But these were no ordinary children.
They were individuals raised in a top-secret facility known as the White Room, subjected to a highly specialized education.
"These are the complete profiles of Ayanokouji Kiyotaka, Yagami Hachiman, and all 156 second-year students. You've memorized everything, correct?"
Normally, even homeroom teachers wouldn't have access to such detailed records—compiled over an entire year by the school. But here, every piece of information was laid bare.
Names, birthdates, hometowns, family backgrounds, academic records since childhood, even personal relationships—no detail was omitted in this classified briefing.
"You already know this, but the top priority is expelling Ayanokouji. Yagami can wait. Though make no mistake—we have no intention of leaving him at that school either."
The supreme authority of the White Room—Ayanokouji's father—demanded his son's expulsion above all else.
"The critical point is removing both of them by April and bringing them back to the White Room. We cannot afford further delays. Execute this cleanly. No public incidents. If the government catches wind of our movements... it would tarnish the professor's reputation."
After Tsukishiro's explanation, one of the White Room students slowly raised a hand.
"So we're to avoid drawing unnecessary attention?"
"Precisely. That's why this task can only be carried out by those who can infiltrate as students. I'll provide support where I can, but from here on out, Sakayanagi's faction will be on high alert. Recklessness won't be tolerated."
Though the students seemed to grasp the situation, their expressions held clear dissatisfaction.
Tsukishiro didn't miss it.
"You look unconvinced."
He glanced at the screen displaying Ayanokouji and Yagami's photos before meeting their eyes again.
"Does it bother you? Hearing them praised as masterpieces?"
The White Room students' expressions remained neutral as they stared back.
"Not only was I deployed, but even the White Room's reactivated operatives were pulled from their missions. An extravagant allocation of resources, one might say. For those raised in the same facility, there could be no greater humiliation."
Tsukishiro emphasized this point deliberately, weaving provocation into his explanation—an attempt to ignite their competitive drive and push them beyond their limits.
*Ayanokouji Kiyotaka is a masterpiece.*
*Yagami Hachiman is a masterpiece.*
With each repetition, something stirred in the students' hearts.
This was the one miscalculation in Tsukishiro's otherwise flawless approach—the emotion he failed to account for.
A lesson drilled into every White Room graduate until they despised it:
*"Surpass Ayanokouji Kiyotaka."*
*"Surpass Yagami Hachiman."*
An outsider could never understand this seething *hatred*. A resentment so volatile it risked spiraling out of control.
"The stage is set. Now, show me what you're capable of. Your records are impeccable. With abilities like yours, expelling him should be trivial, no?"
Having finished both his briefing and his taunts, Tsukishiro studied the students one last time.
"Review whatever you need on this screen. All relevant data is here."
With that, he turned to leave—but intuition stopped him.
"One last thing."
At the doorway, he glanced back at the two still fixated on the screen.
"You're not hiding anything from me, are you?"
Tsukishiro knew better than to assume organizational unity. If their objectives didn't align from the start, even the simplest plans could collapse.
Seeing the slight nod from both students, he finally exited in silence.
Alone now, Tsukishiro pulled up footage on his device—archival records of Ayanokouji Kiyotaka and Yagami Hachiman from their White Room days.
"I dislike using such terms... but these are monsters."
Their academic prowess went without saying. But their physical capabilities bordered on inhuman—enough to effortlessly defeat combat specialists through sheer technique alone.
"A battle between White Room students... A children's game, perhaps. But this should prove interesting."
.....
April 3rd – The Final Days of Spring Break
I walked slowly down the hallway, heading toward the North Building. At the very end of the corridor was an empty classroom—a secluded, open space rarely visited by anyone.
This wasn't my first time coming here. Only once before had I stepped foot in this place.
"Kukuku… So you actually came."
As I opened the door, Ryuuen—the one who had summoned me—stood waiting. His eyes carried an intensity sharper than usual.
"Why call me here? And of all places, this one?"
This location held an unforgettable impact for me. The same was true for Ryuuen.
"The year's almost over. Figured I'd have a little chat with that boring straight face of yours before it ends. As for why here… Call it setting the mood."
He claimed it was just for atmosphere, but whether that was the whole truth, I couldn't say.
This was where Ryuuen and I had first crossed paths.
Where I first became aware of him.
Where he first became aware of me.
No matter the circumstances back then, this was where we first acknowledged each other's existence.
"Funny, ain't it? Back in the first semester, you weren't even on my radar. Just another plain, dime-a-dozen student. That's all you were to me."
Now, I had nicknames like "Ryuuen's Right Hand" floating around, but back then? I was nothing special. And that was exactly how I wanted it.
"But now? Now, all I can think about is crushing you."
That was the result of my actions over the past year.
"Good for you. But thanks to you, I had to give up my peaceful life."
"Peaceful life? Don't make me laugh. Even if I'd done nothing, you would've been dragged into the spotlight eventually."
His words held no hesitation.
I thought I could stay under the radar, but once Ryuuen set his sights on me, I was pulled into one thing after another. I'd made my peace with it—but that didn't mean I'd wanted to give up my quiet days.
Letting him have the last word didn't sit right with me. Time to fire back.
"You crushed Ichinose's class in the last exam, but from where I stand, you still played it soft."
"Hah?"
"I could've secured at least five wins. Unlike you."
I'd said something similar the first time we stood in this room. The conversation felt like a replay of the past—and maybe Ryuuen thought so too, judging by the faint smirk on his face.
"Knew you'd say that. But I don't take orders from you. I won't change how I do things."
The exchange mirrored the past, but the weight behind his words was entirely different.
"Not orders. Just pointing out that your methods—underhanded tricks, cheap shots, even borderline criminal acts—leave too much evidence. I get the 'win at all costs' mindset, but I'd never be that sloppy."
"...The hell?"
"Drugging Ishizaki's group? You only got away with it because Ichinose didn't press the issue. The school was watching for suspicious behavior during exams. You got lucky."
"Sure, maybe there were other ways. But this is how I operate. Ichinose's naivety was part of the calculation."
So he had considered alternatives.
"Then you'll never reach my level. You've gotten closer, sure—but beating me? That's a pipe dream."
The moment those words left my mouth, Ryuuen's smirk vanished—and he disappeared from my line of sight.
"Don't underestimate me."
He closed the distance in an instant, his left fist aimed straight at my face.
I reacted immediately, blocking the strike with one hand.
"Raaah!!"
He wrenched his fist free, pivoted, and launched a spinning kick. His right leg whizzed past my face—a feint. The real attack was the follow-up with his left.
I dodged and stepped back, putting space between us.
"Tch. A sneak attack, and this is all you've got? Freaking monster."
"Calling people monsters is rude."
Ryuuen advanced again, slower this time, until he was right in front of me. Then—he grabbed me by the collar.
"I won't stop until I've devoured you. No matter what it takes—I've decided. You're mine."
That was Ryuuen's vow. The core of his philosophy.
"Look at me. Don't you dare focus on anyone else."
His piercing glare locked onto me. His grip tightened, pulling me deeper into his words.
"Your only real opponent is me. Ichinose? Horikita? Sakayanagi? They're just playthings. The only one who can take you down is me."
There was something exhilarating about those words.
No other opponent would satisfy him. It had to be me.
The person standing before me saw nothing else.
"Don't look down on me. Don't underestimate me. Show me even a fraction of weakness, and I'll destroy you instantly. A single slip is all it takes."
This wasn't hyperbole. It was fact.
If I ever showed Ryuuen a true opening, he would devour me without hesitation.
Seemingly satisfied, Ryuuen slowly released his grip.
"...One more piece of advice for you."
His expression shifted—a smile laced with killing intent—as his head suddenly shot forward.
The next instant, a sharp pain exploded through my skull.
My vision blurred as I staggered back. Ryuuen didn't let up, throwing another punch, but I regained my focus just in time to block it.
"Kukuku… Kuhahaha!! Finally… Finally! I got a clean hit on you!"
The realization that I'd been struck left me momentarily stunned.
I hadn't let my guard down.
I'd been fully alert.
I should have been able to counter anything.
And yet—I'd taken a direct hit.
The throbbing pain in my head was undeniable.
Could it be…
"...I was listening too closely."
The words slipped out quietly.
Ryuuen's actions, his speech—for just a moment, I'd been drawn in.
"How's that headbutt taste, Hikigaya?"
"Hurts like hell…"
"Kuku, I'm surprised you can even feel pain."
Rubbing my likely swollen head, I noticed Ryuuen's forehead was red too. He'd clearly been willing to hurt himself just to land that hit.
"I had one goal today—to land a solid blow on you. Couldn't let second year start without making that happen."
He'd succeeded.
This was the consequence of my carelessness.
Had Ryuuen chosen his words specifically to distract me? No… That couldn't be it.
"Gonna sleep well tonight. I'm satisfied."
"My head's probably gonna swell up, though…"
"Kuku, not my problem. Remember this pain."
As Ryuuen moved toward the door to leave, he paused and turned back one last time.
"Look forward to it. I'm definitely taking you down."
With those final words and a satisfied grin, Ryuuen exited the classroom.
.....
After Ryuen left, I was alone in the empty classroom.
"To think I'd actually get hit..."
Though surprised by the fact, part of me somehow accepted it.
The distinct pain on my forehead.
Somehow, it felt natural that the first person to attack me in this school was Ryuen.
Could I have predicted this a year ago?
"...I should probably prepare."
I took out my phone from my pocket and checked my personal points.
1,874,390 points.
After everything that happened this past year, I had more points than the average student.
Class points meant nothing to me.
What I needed were private points.
In this school, you could buy anything with points.
Test scores.
Preventing expulsions.
Making up for absences or tardiness.
Gaining an advantage in special exams.
And—even the right to transfer classes.
There were countless other uses.
Private points had endless possibilities.
"What I wanted was... a peaceful everyday life... or so I thought."
It felt strange to be thinking like this, with such detached logic.
My heart—my inner self—had undeniably grown tremendously over this past year.
No, it was still growing even now.
I should have been able to feel that growth.
I tried to convince myself of that.
But nothing worked.
It was as if my own beliefs held no weight.
Had I really changed in this school?
Surely I had. I was still growing.
––––––No.
That's not it.
I already know the truth.
What I'm really thinking.
What I'm really trying to do.
It hasn't changed from how I used to think.
School life is full of variety.
Club activities.
Romance.
Studies.
Could I have enjoyed even one of them?
Can I even enjoy them now?
Have I changed at all in this school?
Or will I be able to change from now on?
No, no matter what I do, these thoughts won't go away.
If anything could change them––––––
"…Impossible."
For a moment, her face flashed through my mind.
This is the first time. The first time I've ever pictured her face, even for an instant.
I don't know if this is a good thing or a bad thing.
But for now, I'll make a wish.
That someday, I'll find something I can't let go of.
Something truly precious.
That I'll discover a reason to live.
In this––––––meritocratic classroom.
......
*Hmph~♪*
After Tsukishiro left, one of the White Room students remaining in the meeting room fiddled with the screen, displaying photos of Ayanokōji Kiyotaka and Yagami Yūto, her expression melting into a lovesick daze.
"Sooo… dreamy~♪"
She zoomed in on Yagami Yūto's photo, her cheeks flushing pink like a lovestruck maiden.
"I wanna see him sooo bad~. Yagami… no, wait, he's Hikigaya-senpai now, right? Ugh~ Time's moving sooo slow."
Watching her spew these saccharine, almost soliloquizing words, the other White Room student sitting behind her simply observed the scene in silence.
Then, with a single glance at the enlarged photo of Yagami Yūto, the corner of their mouth lifted—just for an instant.
"Can't wait––––––Big Brother."
The murmured words dissolved into the dry, stagnant air.
=================================
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