Tokyo Metroplan Advanced Nurturing High School. In this country, it may well be the only place where I can escape the grasp of that man.
I had such unpleasant thoughts while staring at the scenery passing by in the bus window. It was a world of colour, a far cry from the white room where colour was no more than a word. Of course, it's not as if the entire facility was white: hair, eyes, skin, food, pen ink, pencil led, electronic screens, chess pieces, training equipment, grime, vomit, blood... Nowhere in this world was devoid of colour, even a place like the white room. However, that was only technically true. To compare the outside world and the white room was laughable at best and fatal at worst. If the children took one good glance at the scenery I'm looking at, then returned to that world of bright white cruelty, I'm sure another generation would be filed away as failures.
Dark pavement lined with yellow and white lines, beige-tile sidewalk in front of housing units, Sakura trees planted along the way that dyed the world in pink: "picturesque" would be a good description. I wonder how one would usually feel, looking at scenery like this. Perhaps nothing of note. After all, none of the others in the bus appeared particularly interested in the scenery. An office lady with a stiff expression, a salary worker with an ambitionless gaze, and many others, none of whom were enjoying the scenery.
The three students wearing the same uniform as me included.
A girl with well-kept, waist-length black hair, with one strain tied in a braid. She was reading Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky, which, according to the limited amount of research I did while under Matsuo's care, wasn't a common choice. The more abundant girl with short gold-brown hair seemed to agree, as she was glancing over at the dark-haired girl. Meanwhile, the boy with long blond hair appeared without a care, smirking while lightly brushing his hair back with a comb.
Objectively speaking, I believe they were all good-looking, particularly the girls. Perhaps looks were another criterion for admission into the school. In that case, was I considered relatively handsome? ...Even when I so attempted to joke with myself, I could only mutely dismiss my vain attempts. It was laughable, to the point where I would have laughed had I could.
The dark-haired girl glanced over at me and the gold-brown haired girl in order, seemingly annoyed by our gazes. She seemed to be slightly harsher with me, however. How unfortunate. I seem to have made a bad first impression to a fellow schoolmate. As I look away, we arrive at the last stop before the school, where an old lady comes in. None of the seats are open, though, and she looks slightly distressed as the bus takes off. She wobbles with the bus, looking in danger of falling. She glances over at the priority seat, where the blond boy continues to admire himself, but doesn't say anything.
"Excuse me, shouldn't you offer up your seat?"
A young office lady has spoken up. As this seems like an apt time to observe social interaction, I inconspicuously observe with interest.
"As you can see, this elderly lady is having some trouble, so could you please?"
Several heads turn, allowing me to blend along with them. I can almost imagine spotlights rappelling down, lighting the scene with curious gazes and focusing on the lady as she speaks.
The blond student grins broadly while crossing his legs. "Why should I offer up my seat? There's no reason to do so."
"You're sitting in a priority seat. It's natural to offer those seats to the elderly."
"Priority seats are just that: priority seats. I have no legal obligation to move. Since I'm currently occupying this seat, I should be the one who determines whether or not I move. Am I supposed to give up my seat just because I'm young? Nonsense. While I may be healthy, young, handsome and perfectly capable of standing without inconvenience, it would consume more energy. I have no intention of doing such a pointless thing. Or are you suggesting I should be livelier?"
"Wh-what kind of attitude is that?"
"The kind of attitude I will continue to have in the future. Lady, it is useless to argue with me. Wouldn't you agree that your energy is better spent asking someone else to give up their seat? Of course, I don't mind entertaining you for a bit longer, though in that case you should raise a more entertaining topic."
The lady stands dumbfounded for a second. The audience can clearly tell who's on the winning side of the conversation.
"And I see you have nothing of worth to say. Please have fun convincing some lesser sod. If you truly care for the elderly, something like who gives up their seat should be a trivial concern for you." The boy puts his earphones in and loudly starts listening to... the fourth movement of Antonin Dvorak's Symphony no.9, I think. Though the volume's up, it's hard to hear over the bus. Not quite a piece you listen to while in commute, but nonetheless respectable. Anyway, that entire fiasco was dramatic enough to be a play. Quite worthwhile, but how will it conclude?
"You can take my seat, if you'd like."
With an unrelated third party's interference, it seems. The short-haired student stands up and offers her seat with a smile. She's been making half-worried gestures and glances the entire time, as if she was looking for an opportunity to intrude in their conversation. The other passengers seem to have noticed, and when she speaks up the entire bus is undoubtably given this impression: She's a good girl. Pleasing appearance, clear voice, nice smile, and good attitude. The office lady's displeasure disappears as well.
And with that, we have a silent ride all the way to my stop.
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As I got off the bus, a gate made of natural rock waited ahead of me. Young girls and boys, dressed in the same red-green uniform I wore, walked through the gates. The blond boy walks far ahead of me with the same self-satisfied smirk.
"Wait." I catch up and wait until he takes off his headphones to raise my voice.
"Oh, has someone already been smitten by me? I apologize, boy, but I do not swing that way." He responds, not turning back.
I may be completely unexperienced socially, but it shouldn't matter when facing a guy like him. I have a feeling no matter what I did, whether it be grab him by the wrist, make a joke, throw a book at him, kick his face, or suddenly start playing Fur Elise on the piano, his impression of me would be the same.
"What's your name?" although we learned about our species in the white room, typical interaction was limited. He's a man of interesting character, so my curiosity was peaked.
"Very well. You may take pride in being the first student in this school to learn of the name Kouenji Rokusuke, the sole male heir to the Kouenji conglomerate who will soon be tasked with carrying the future of Japan." He said, turning around with a dramatic flourish.
Though it shouldn't matter much, I should follow basic etiquette and introduce myself. "Ayanokouji Kiyotaka. Nice to meet you."
"Ayanokouji-boy. Remember to exercise proper precaution with me, for I will mercilessly punish anything that makes me uncomfortable. Ugly things, for instance. For your safety, I recommend you bring along a beautiful lady next time. Preferably someone older." He says, walking away after openly revealing his preference. If you liked older women, what about the grandma?
...My second attempt at a joke fails and falls flat, not affecting my emotions at all. I would laugh if I could.
"Wait." As I try and step forward, it seems it's my turn to get stopped. I turn around to see the black-haired girl glaring at me.
"You were looking at me. Why?"
"You were reading quite a conspicuous book." I replied, pointing at the bright red Crime and Punishment in her hand. It's mostly true, though I'm familiar with it. It was a choice novel of that man.
"Is that all? If it's nothing important, don't look at me so brazenly. It's quite a bother." Sharp words. At least her image matches with her book choice.
"I'll keep that in mind." I reply. This should be a neutral, safe answer.
As she walks past me, I follow behind. "My name's Ayanokouji Kiyotaka. Nice to meet you." I have doubts if I'll even be able to speak coherently in the classroom. I should take this chance to increase my contacts when I can. Unfortunately, she simply ignores me with a glare and walks off.
How rude. I sure would hate to sit next to her in class.