2.1
Horikita: Wait! You were trying to constrict my breathing on the bus. Why?
I looked at Horikita, who had just asked me a very pertinent question. How would I answer this? I have no interest in involving Horikita in my life, meaning that unveiling the truth is the incorrect course of action. Since truth is eliminated, it leaves lying. I am not particularly good at lying, but I suppose I can try.
I recall a conversation regarding priority seats earlier on the bus trip. I doubt Horikita looked up from her book. Perhaps I can use this.
Ayanokoji: Sorry, I guess I was just interested, that is all. I mean, you didn't consider giving up your seat to the old woman, right?
Horikita: ...Are you a terrible liar, or some kind of NPC in a video game? What does that have to do with choking me? Anyway, how did you endure my jab at your wrist without feeling any pain?
Ayanokoji: What are you talking about?
It is possible that the effects of the bus ride's Absolute Choice are still in effect. This means that I am forced give noncommital answers to whatever questions she asks as part of the "feign ignorance" demand.
The strange thing is Horikita's behaviour. Why is she troubling me about this? If she is so angry about having her seatbelt pulled by some hooligan, why not try to complain to a teacher or something? Surely some passenger watched the incident occur. If not, she should leave me alone. I don't understand why she is so keen on questioning me. However, perhaps I can take advantage of this illogical behaviour of hers in the future.
For now, I will conduct a tactical retreat, "advancing backwards" into safety. I fixed my opponent with a calm stare, puffed up my chest in order to appear slightly bigger, and spoke:
Ayanokoji: Ah, my stomach really hurts. Ciao.
Horikita: Hey, wait!
I then ran towards the campus, leaving my enemy in the dust. It would not be an exaggeration to say that running is the one singular thing I am good at.
2.2
Upon arriving at the classroom denoted by the sign 1-D, I sat on the seat bearing my nameplate. It was situated in the last row, next to the window. Not much of an NPC then...
I glanced at the seat next to mine, and noticed the name "Horikita Suzune". What a pretty name.
The girl from the bus, Horikita (placeholder name) sat on the seat with the nameplate "Horikita Suzune". What a weird name.
Author's Note: So Horikita is Horikita. Did you see that coming?
Horikita gave me a glare and let out a dramatic sigh.
Horikita: What an unpleasant coincidence. Must I have to constantly interact with all the world's clowns? I wonder if I am seated here to balance out your idiocy.
Why is she still talking? In any case, this is the equivalent of an implicit social ultimatum. If I do not do something here, my school life would be under fire by this woman. Perhaps I should offer some kind of peace treaty.
Ayanokoji: Sorry. I don't know what came over me. I should not have caused you trouble.
Horikita looked bewildered. First, Ayanokoji tried to choke her with the seatbelt, then he vehemently denied doing so, and finally he apologizes? This must be some kind of trick. However, Horikita will prove her maturity, accepting the apology of this charlatan.
Horikita: ...
Horikita: Very well, I accept your apology, Ayanokoji-kun. However, desist from such behaviour in the future. I should not have to warn you again.
The "feigning ignorance" clause of the previous absolute choice is rather vague. Apologizing is certainly a breach of "feigning igorance", but not when I never explicitly state what I am apologizing for. For example, I could be apologizing for looking at Horikita, or breathing the same air as the ice princess. It is all completely up to interpretation. I may be grasping at straws, but my position can still be defended here.
Of course, it goes without saying that I do not feel sorry for my actions.
Ayanokoji: Thank you.
Horikita gave me a brief nod and returned to her "Crime and Punishment". It was indeed Dostoevsky's book, not a teenage bondage novel. I suppose surprises do occur.
With all the clean-up work due to the damage caused by Absolute Choice complete, my attention turned to the root of the problem, and how I could eradicate it.
Currently, what I knew was that Absolute Choice is dictated by a person, or at least some kind of sentient being. This is because the statements made by the voice hold some indicators of tone, such as being happy or amused. There is some variation in the voice, again reinforcing the belief that the being offering, or at least reading the choices is sentient.
Secondly, the decisions offered by Absolute Choice, at least to my knowledge, cannot be refused. It is mandatory to choose one of the options. I attempted refusal at first, but the result was a splitting headache followed by sporadic paralysis. In general, the consequences become more dire as the options are fought.
Finally, Absolute Choice is not permanent. It appears that very soon, within the next couple months at most, I will begin to receive "challenges". Apparently, when all of these challenges are complete, my freedom will return. Of course, the person giving me this information is a redhead midget woman who appears somewhat crazy, but she claims to have suffered from the same condition, making her my only anchor in this realm of madness.
2.3
As I looked around the room, I found three groups of people.
The first two groups were immersed in their own tasks, either browsing through class materials or examining the smartphone provided by this amazingly indulgent school.
The third group cautiously looked around their position, as if scanning for an opening, a weak link in the armor of the people around them. It could be a book, a reaction they made, anything that indicated some kind of shared experience. Then, leveraging this gap in the person's otherwise impenetrable defense, they launched an attack of pinpoint accuracy to further weaken their armor. In other words, they talked.
It appears that friend groups had already started forming based of such shared experiences and the communal weakening of armor. The athletic boys, make-up passionate girls, studious students, and gamers began to slowly draw closer. Of course, one may argue that such groups may also be created by the pre-determined seating chart, but the effects of it are minor. For most students, there are 8 people around them which they can easily talk to if they so desire. This means that they are not necessarily forced to talk to someone they have nothing in common with.
In my case, however, seated in the corner, I only have 3 options. In front of me lies a bespectacled, rotund boy hunched over his seat. I suppose he is big-boned. He seems like a pleasant person to talk to, however, and I would probably not regret reaching out to him.
But what will I say? Should I stand up and shout my name to make everyone aware of my presence? Perhaps I have print out slips of paper with my email address and hand them out. No good, they would appear more like business cards than an average student's attempt at friendship. I am not particularly good at sports and studies, immediately eliminating me from those cliques. This is no use, I am trapped in a downward spiral.
The seat diagonal to mine is currently empty. Perhaps my best chance is to pretend someone is there, which could highlight my social skills and make me more approachable. After all, not many people can create people to talk to from thin air. But I might be considered crazy. Again, high-risk high-reward.
I suppose that leaves one option.
Ayanokoji: Hey, Horikita. It's nice to meet you, my name is Ayanokoji Kiyotaka. What is your name?
Horikita: Are you an idiot, Ayanokoji-kun? Or do you think you are funny?
Ayanokoji: Do you generally call people you just meet idiots?
Ayanokoji feels somewhat wounded. What did he do to deserve this?
Horikita: I have not forgotten your little prank on the bus, Ayanokoji-kun. Please, pathetically try to make friends somewhere else.
Ayanokoji: It would be somewhat unsettling to not know my neighbour's name, especially if she knows mine.
Horikita sighs and relents.
Horikita: My name is Horikita Suzune. Are you happy now?
Ayanokoji: I know, it's on your seat's nameplate.
Horikita rolled her eyes, muttered something like "immature fool", and returned to her book. If I could smile, I would.
2.4
Author's Note: You should know the S-System speech by heart now. I reckon a few of you must murmur it in your sleep by now.
The bell range, and a woman entered the classroom. I placed her age at the thirty, but she resembled Horikita in the sense that her apparent maturity made her look older. Her appearance gave the impression that she firmly believed in discipline.
She then proceeded to write her name on the blackboard. Her first name was Sae, but the last name...for some reason I could not read it clearly. Was it...Chiyabashira? Chabashira? Chiya-bashira? In any case, Chabashira (33% chance of being the correct name), seemed to have something important to say, and the class understood this. There was a rapid decrescendo in the student's voices, until only two people remained speaking.
Freedom of Speech Proponent 1: Damn ikemen! He'll take all the cuties from us! Look at his perfect hair, smooth voice, and charming smile. It's all over, Yamauchi!
Freedom of Speech Proponent 2 (presumably Yamauchi): What are you talking about, Ike? Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the biggest ikemen of them all?
Yamauchi strained his neck to look into the mirror of a blond boy with the physique of a Greek god, who happened to be polishing his toenails. However, the blond boy angled his mirror away from Yamauchi, perhaps trying to avoid tarnishing his mirror because of foul light. Yamauchi, being a problem-solver, mimed a mirror and smiled proudly.
Yamauchi: Yeah, that's right! I am Yamauchi, ace of the baseball team. I slam revolving doors, strangle people with wireless earphones, and count up to infinity...backwards. No one is better than me.
There is a monster in this room.
Chabashira-sensei cleared her throat, and two remaining students stopped talking. She began to speak in the pin-drop silence.
Chabashira-sensei: Ahem, good morning new students. My name is Chabashira Sae and I am in charge of Class D this year. I teach Japanese history. This school does not rearrange the classes every year, so over the next three years, I hope I get to know all of you. Best regards. The entrance ceremony will begin an hour from now. I will now distribute the list of special rules of this school.
Chabashira placed handouts on the desks of the students seated in the front, who passed them back.
I carefully read the handout and surmised the following:
1. Outside contact is forbidden. While a student is attending the school, they cannot be in contact with anyone outside, even family members.
2. To make up for this, the school is enormous. The 600,000 square meter campus is not just for education, but includes recreational facilities such as theatre rooms and karaokes, along with cafes and stores.
3. The school has a special points system known as the S-System, whereby students can use their "points" as currency.
Chabashira: I will now distribute the student ID cards. They function like credit cards, with scanners placed all around the campus stores. Anything on the campus can be bought with points. Points will be automatically deposited on the first day of every month, with one point equal to one yen. Everyone should already have 100,000 points.
The classroom immediate erupted with chatter. 100,000 yen was a massive sum of money to just hand to a teenager, no questions asked. The school already allotted 16 million yen with just this month's allowance for the freshman year. If this continues for 36 months, a total of 576 million yen would be spent on the students of a grade-level when they graduate.
Author's Note: As of the time of writing, 16,000,000 yen equals 114,612 USD. Therefore, handing 100,000 yen a month every month to a 160 student grade-level would result in an expense exceeding 4 million USD when they graduate.
ANHS has 3 grade-levels. On top of this, they would have to pay for other expenses, such as the maintenance of the campus, the salary of the teachers, and the purchase of course materials to name a few. These would be miniscule in comparison to the massive expenditure on student allowance, but the small expenses do add up. There must be some catch, or the school would have gone bankrupt a while ago.
Another interesting phrase used is "anything on the campus can be bought by points". Only time will tell if it means what I think it does.
I glanced around the classroom, checking the expressions of my classmates if they were thinking the same thing as I was. If they were, they did not show it. Only Koenji, who wore a smug expression, seemed to have a chance of understanding the situation, but I have never seen Koenji without a self-satisfied smirk anyway.
Chabashira: Does this figure surprise you? As you already know, the school evaluates its students based on merit. Having been admitted to the school, you have already proven yourself to have value in the eyes of the school. Don't save your points. Any remaining points will be returned to the school upon your graduation. Any questions?
Chabashira examined the room like a hawk, in search for even a single query. Nothing came.
Chabashira: Well, if that is the case, please enjoy your school life.
With that, Chabashira slammed the sliding door (unlike Yamauchi, I doubt she would have the capability to slam a revolving one), and left the room.
With that, the conversations continued, most centered around the monstrous 100,000 yen allowance. Even Horikita tried to talk to me, though I rebuffed her.
Horikita: This school is very lax isn't it, Ayanokoji-kun?
Ayanokoji:
Having flexible facial muscles is a great power. Imagine if the only expression I could make was a blank poker face.
However, before I could celebrate my petty victory over Horikita, another trial appeared in the form of Hirata. The ikemen's soft, rich voice resonated throughout the room, alerting me to a task I was severely underprepared for.
Hirata: Everyone, can you please hear me out for a moment?
No, Hirata. I do not want to hear you out. I know exactly what you are going to say, and it sends shivers down my spine.
Unfortunately, my inner thoughts, which much of the class might have shared, were left unvoiced, and Hirata was left to continue. I suppose the silence can be justified. If I were a girl, I would want Hirata to boss me around too.
Hirata: Starting today, we will be classmates for the next three years. I think it is best if we introduce ourselves, get to know each other, and become friends as soon as possible. What do you say?
No, Hirata. I say no. I am vastly underprepared. However, out of fear of committing a social gaffe, I stayed put.
While I remained still like a coward, the rest of the nervous students muttered voices of approval, and soon it was established that Class D would indeed have an introduction session. And who was better to begin than Hirata?
Hirata: My name is Hirata Yousuke. Feel free to call me by my first name; many of my friends in junior high called me Yousuke. I enjoy sports in general, but I especially like soccer. I'm planning to play soccer here as well. Nice to meet all of you!
...
I was in awe. Noticing the warmth with which most of the class received him, I began rehearsing my introduction in my head.
What if I just swapped his name with mine?
My name is Ayanokoji Kiyotaka. Feel free to call me by my first name; many of my friends in junior high called me Kiyotaka. I enjoy sports in general, but I especially like soccer. I'm planning to play soccer here as well. Nice to meet all of you!
It was no good. They would notice. Perhaps I could replace soccer with tea ceremony. It would not be an exaggeration to say that tea ceremony was my only skill. However, the last line would then be problematic. What if no tea ceremony was offered in ANHS, or if only female practitioners were allowed? The "I'm planning to practice tea ceremony" phrase would then sound rather sinister, as if I intended to submit the club leaders to my will if males were banned.
As I continued my musings, I kept my ears open for any further inspiration for my introduction. Ike and Koenji seemed to have geared their introductions solely towards the opposite gender, while Yamauchi revealed himself to be even more of a genius than before. Apparently, in addition to being able to slam revolving doors and strangle others with wireless earphones, he was the ace of his baseball team at an age when he should not have been eligible to play.
If I had to count his lies, I would have pull one of his stunts: counting to infinity multiple times.
The red-haired boy who appeared to have anger management issues actually introduced himself, and even Horikita chimed in with a simple "I am Horikita Suzune". I suppose I should not judge a book by its cover.
Before I knew it, it was my turn to introduce myself. Have corroborated features from the introductions before mine, I felt rather good about my high-school life. Perhaps the mishap with Horikita would not do much damage. The classroom showed students with faces filled with anticipation.
I stood up with perfect posture, and opened my mouth to speak, only to hear that dreaded voice before my lips could move.
Choose.
Introduce yourself using one of the two lines below.
1. Um...well. My name is, uh, Ayanokoji Kiyotaka. And...uh...I don't really have any special skills or anything. Um...I'll do my best to get along with all of you. Well...uh...yeah. Nice to meet...uh...everyone.
2. My name is Ayanokoji Kiyotaka. I am skilled in every form of martial arts and am the most athletic person of my age. I could do college-level math at the age of 8, and now hold more knowledge than any other human being alive. From now on, I will be the leader of this class, and my word will be law. My only weakness is anime quizzes.
There are 5 stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. If I could cry, I would.
I was now in a tight situation. Either I would select #2 and sound like Yamauchi, or I would select #1 and be labelled a loner lacking social skills. Of course, #2 is not true, which adds to the problem. If I was not an average high school student and actually possessed those skills, I could probably still be alright, despite sounding very arrogant. However, being a normal person, saying #2 will only earn scorn. I sighed as I resigned myself to my fate.
Ayanokoji: Um...well. My name is, uh, Ayanokoji Kiyotaka. And...uh...I don't really have any special skills or anything. Um...I'll do my best to get along with all of you. Well...uh...yeah. Nice to meet...uh...everyone.
The classroom was filled with polite applause, but all I could feel was the pity covering the room. I heard a snicker to my right. Horikita had laughed at me.
Alternate Timeline:
Choose.
Introduce yourself using one of the two lines below.
1. Um...well. My name is, uh, Ayanokoji Kiyotaka. And...uh...I don't really have any special skills or anything. Um...I'll do my best to get along with all of you. Well...uh...yeah. Nice to meet...uh...everyone.
2. My name is Ayanokoji Kiyotaka. I am skilled in every form of martial arts and am the most athletic person of my age. I could do college-level math at the age of 8, and now hold more knowledge than any other human being alive. From now on, I will be the leader of this class, and my word will be law. My only weakness is anime quizzes.
I cannot afford to select #1. It will deal a crippling blow to my school life and prevent me from understanding the human desire for friendship. I have no other choice but to select #2, even if it costs me. Indeed, if I have control over the whole class, then I am free to find a solution to this Absolute Choice issue without caring about social norms. It is all perfect.
My demeanor appeared slightly different from what it had seemed like a few seconds ago. My eyes glinted slightly as the sun was smothered by a cloud, making the room appear darker. I spoke in a slow and measured voice, clearly enunciating each word:
Ayanokoji: My name is Ayanokoji Kiyotaka. I am skilled in every form of martial arts and am the most athletic person of my age. I could do college-level math at the age of 8, and now hold more knowledge than any other human being alive. From now on, I will be the leader of this class, and my word will be law. My only weakness is anime quizzes.
A few students felt their lips twitch at the "anime quizzes line", but their laughter died in their throat as they looked into my dark, soulless eyes. I looked into the eyes of every single student, making sure that they understood. Class D would be under my control starting from the first day. At long last, my eyes met Yamauchi's.
Yamauchi: Your eyes...they are just like mine. We are the same.
Author's Note: No, the alternate timeline is not canon in this story. Do use comments to give me feedback if needed. I hope the story is enjoyable so far.