With the midterm exams rapidly approaching, Class B had fully entered serious study mode.
That day after school, the study session in the library—centered around me, Hiyori, and Ichinose's group—proceeded smoothly as usual before finally wrapping up.
"See you later, Aizen-kun, Shiina-san! See you tomorrow!"
"Yes, good work today. Please be careful on your way home, Ichinose-san and everyone else."
"...Indeed. Be sure not to let the malice lurking in the darkness of night sweep your feet from beneath you."
"He means, 'Please get home safely,'" Hiyori translated calmly.
As always, after parting ways with my classmates through Hiyori's flawless interpretation, I headed toward the student dormitory where my room was located.
Bathed in the orange glow of the setting sun, my steps felt lighter than usual.
(Alright, the study session's over and I've got plenty of time now... Maybe I should contact Kiyotaka already!)
Yesterday, during the incident between Classes C and D, I had unexpectedly reunited with my old White Room acquaintance—Ayanokōji Kiyotaka.
There had been too many people around then, so we barely got to talk about the past. He too had somehow escaped that insane facility and made it out into the real world. Surely, just like me, he was still awkwardly adjusting to ordinary life while enjoying the peace of freedom.
(Perfect. I'll invite him over to my room, we'll eat dinner, and catch up! Messages shouldn't trigger my cursed auto-poem transformation, so I can finally write normally!)
The moment I returned to my dorm room, I grabbed my terminal and opened the messaging app.
Just as I was about to type:
"Long time no see! Wanna come over tonight, eat dinner, and talk about old times?"
—I paused.
(...No, wait.)
Yesterday's image of Kiyotaka resurfaced in my mind.
He'd still been expressionless, acting carefully so as not to stand out. If I suddenly sent him an overly excited message, he might think:
"Did this guy lose his mind after leaving the White Room?"
And besides, my Aizen Sōsuke pride—also known as my unconscious chuunibyou—whispered seductively:
"Are such cheap words really fitting when inviting your destined rival?"
(I should match his vibe and invite him with something calmer and more sophisticated. That's what mature adults do!)
After some thought, I typed and sent the message.
"—Would you care to speak with me tonight in my room? About the empty paths we have walked, and the past of that white garden. ...I shall prepare the board and await you."
(Yeah. Perfect. Calm, mature, elegant. "The board" obviously means the dining table. Surely he'll get it!)
Satisfied, I waited for his reply.
Meanwhile, in Ayanokōji Kiyotaka's dorm room in Class D.
A short notification sound rang from the terminal resting beside him on the bed.
Sender: Aizen Sōsuke.
Just one day after their reunion, the man had already made contact again.
("Speak with me tonight... about the empty paths we've walked and the past of the white garden. ...I shall prepare the board and await you.")
The instant he finished reading the message, an icy vigilance flashed through Ayanokōji's hollow eyes.
(...So he's trying to directly investigate me after all.)
"White garden" clearly referred to the White Room.
And "empty paths" likely meant the time between leaving the facility and entering this school.
He was probing him.
Ayanokōji quietly analyzed the situation.
Aizen Sōsuke—the monster who had produced abnormal results in every curriculum before suddenly disappearing from the facility.
Why was he at this school?
Was he acting under the White Room's orders?
Ayanokōji didn't know.
But ignoring the invitation might provoke the worst-case scenario: Aizen exposing his past to the entire school.
("I shall prepare the board and await you." A chessboard? Or an interrogation table? Either way, refusing would be a bad move. To understand his objective, I'll have to step directly into his territory.)
He typed a short response:
"Understood. I'll come at 19:00."
Then he exhaled quietly.
What awaited him wasn't an old friend's room.
It was the castle of a terrifying demon king.
(YES! Kiyotaka said yes! Seven o'clock it is!)
The moment I got his reply, I rushed out of my room and sprinted toward the supermarket in Keyaki Mall.
(Since I finally get to eat with Kiyotaka again after all this time, I should make him something special!)
During the years between being expelled from the White Room and entering this school, I had lived in an orphanage. Since I'd helped the staff constantly, my domestic skills—especially cooking—had become remarkably advanced.
Combined with the absurd dexterity and learning ability granted by my "Aizen specs," my cooking had reached a level that could rival high-end restaurants.
(For high school boys, hamburg steak is the obvious choice! I'll also make consommé soup and potato salad.)
In a great mood, I tossed ingredients into my basket one after another: ground meat, onions, eggs, fresh vegetables.
Currently, my terminal balance sat at around 100,000 points. The 20 million points I had earned for Hiyori's transfer had almost entirely been paid to the school to fulfill the contract, reducing me back to ordinary freshman-level wealth.
Still, with 100,000 points, grocery costs were nothing.
The moment I returned home, I immediately started cooking.
The knife flashed at blinding speed as I minced onions.
My hands kneaded the meat with both precision and power.
The heat was controlled perfectly down to the second.
(Alright, sear the outside over high heat to lock in the juices... then finish it slowly in the oven. And the sauce will be a homemade red wine demi-glace!)
At exactly 18:55, my table was lined with steaming hamburg steaks, colorful side dishes, and crystal-clear consommé soup.
A rich, mouthwatering aroma filled the room.
Ding dong.
Right at 19:00, the intercom rang.
(Oh! He's here!)
Still wearing my apron, I hurried excitedly to the door.
Standing there was Ayanokōji Kiyotaka—still expressionless, though faint tension radiated from his body.
(Welcome, Kiyotaka! Glad you came!)
Trying to smile warmly, I spoke.
"—You've come, Kiyotaka. ...At the very least, I'll praise you for not fleeing from the terror of facing me."
(GAAAAAHHHH! WHY DOES IT ALWAYS COME OUT LIKE THIS?! That sounded exactly like a demon king welcoming a hero to his doom!)
At my utterly villainous greeting, Ayanokōji narrowed his eyes slightly.
"...I didn't come because you ordered me to. I came because you said you wanted to talk."
"...Fufu. No need to put on a brave face. Come inside. ...Let us begin our banquet."
Internally crying, I elegantly invited him in.
The moment he entered, Ayanokōji's eyes quickly scanned the room.
Any bugs?
Any hidden attackers?
Escape routes?
Then his gaze stopped on the lavish homemade dishes covering the table.
(...What is this?)
Internally, he was deeply confused.
He had expected an actual "board"—perhaps a chessboard.
Instead, there was perfectly plated hamburg steak.
And the terrifying monster before him was somehow wearing a cute household apron.
(...Poison? No, he wouldn't use something that obvious. Then this must be psychological warfare—an attempt to lower my guard by blending into normal daily life.)
"Sit before it grows cold. ...You may rest assured there is no poison."
(AAAAH! WHY DID I BRING UP POISON MYSELF?! It's just delicious hamburg steak!!)
"...Thanks for the meal."
Ayanokōji sat down and picked up his knife and fork.
He cut into the hamburg steak and took a bite.
And then—
(...!)
His movements froze completely.
Behind his emotionless mask, an overwhelming "assault of flavor" struck his brain directly.
Overflowing juices.
Perfect doneness.
A demi-glace sauce balancing acidity and richness flawlessly.
It surpassed every meal he had ever tasted in his life.
(...It's incredible. To an abnormal degree. Was cooking also part of the White Room curriculum? No... I never learned this. Did he truly master this level of skill after leaving the facility? What terrifying adaptability...)
Completely unaware that he was interpreting my cooking as evidence of my monstrous nature, I internally pumped my fist in victory.
(YES! Kiyotaka's frozen from how delicious it is! All those years at the orphanage paid off!)
"—A meal that merely satisfies hunger is fit only for beasts. I prepared offerings worthy of us... Tell me, do they suit your palate?"
I swirled a wine glass—filled only with grape juice—and asked arrogantly.
Ayanokōji set down his utensils and looked at me seriously.
"...Yeah. It's good. But if you think food will buy me over, you're wasting your time, Sōsuke. Let's get to the main subject."
(Main subject? Oh right! Talking about school life! I should ask how Class D is going and whether he made any friends!)
"—No need to rush. ...Still, tell me, Kiyotaka. Have you adapted to the air of this tiny garden? A man like you wallowing among the mud of the lowest depths... I admit, I find it intriguing."
(GAAAAHHH! I JUST WANTED TO ASK IF HE MADE FRIENDS!! Why did it sound like I was interrogating him?!)
The warmth vanished completely from Ayanokōji's eyes.
So that really was his goal.
(...He's investigating my intentions. What I'm planning at this school. No—I just want a peaceful life, but to him that must appear suspicious. Whether or not he's acting for the White Room, he clearly intends to drag me onto his board.)
Ayanokōji quietly drank some water.
"I'm not plotting anything. I just want to live peacefully as a normal student. Why are you here?"
(Why am I here? To read books together with Hiyori at the same school, obviously!)
"—Why am I here? ...I'm merely laying a foundation so I may someday stand atop the heavens. Surely you too will eventually climb into the edge of my sight."
(AHHHH! I SAID "STAND ATOP THE HEAVENS" AGAIN!! I just want a peaceful school life! Now I sound like the mastermind planning to conquer the academy!)
Ayanokōji exhaled quietly.
("Stand atop the heavens"... So he intends to dominate this school. Whether for the White Room or his own ambitions, he clearly plans to involve me. Giving him any more information carelessly would be dangerous.)
"...I have no intention of entering anyone's field of vision or aiming for the heavens. You can do whatever you want. Just don't interfere with me."
With that, Ayanokōji devoured the rest of the hamburg steak at terrifying speed and stood up.
"Thanks for the meal. The food was excellent... but let's end the probing here."
(Eh?! He's leaving already?! It's only 7:30! I finally reunited with my childhood friend—I can't let this end here!)
"—Wait. It is too early to leave the board."
My sharp voice stopped Ayanokōji instantly as he reached for the doorknob.
Tension radiated from his back.
"...What are you planning, Sōsuke? If you intend to use force, I have my own options."
"—Do not misunderstand. I merely prepared another form of 'game' capable of awakening one's instinct for battle."
(I JUST WANT TO PLAY VIDEO GAMES TOGETHER! I bought the latest console recently with points!)
When I pulled out a brand-new gaming console and two controllers from beneath the TV stand, Ayanokōji blinked slightly.
(...A video game? What kind of trap is this?)
Internally, his alert level skyrocketed.
(The White Room's masterpiece—that is, me—is being challenged through a mere game? No. It can't simply be entertainment. Reaction speed to random stimuli, adaptability, predictive capability... I see. Through this "game," he intends to measure my current specs.)
"...Very well. I'll humor your game."
He returned inside and accepted the controller.
(YESSSS! Kiyotaka agreed to play games! Hanging out in a room gaming together like normal high school boys—this is awesome!)
Excited beyond words, I booted up a popular fighting game.
"—Now then, let us begin. Show me how far your struggles can reach my blade."
(No holding back! Let's do this!!)
FIGHT!!
The battle between the characters exploded across the screen.
The "Aizen specs" inside my brain were absurd even in gaming.
From frame-by-frame character movements, I perfectly predicted every attack and punished openings instantly with combos.
(WOOOOOO! This is so fun!! Kiyotaka's actually pretty good! As expected of someone from the White Room—his reflexes are insane!)
I played joyfully, thrilled simply to game with a friend like a normal high school student.
But beside me, Ayanokōji's internal thoughts were on an entirely different level.
(...Impossible. He reacts several frames after my inputs, yet he reads all my actions perfectly. This isn't mere reflex. He's instantly analyzing my thought patterns, habits, and strategies to derive the optimal answer...)
Sweat formed on Ayanokōji's forehead.
(And he's intentionally leaving openings. He's testing whether I can notice and exploit them. ...Terrifying. From dinner to games, everything has been a test to evaluate me. I can't relax for even a second.)
The furious clacking of buttons echoed throughout the room.
(Playing games with Kiyotaka is seriously the best!! I'm losing track of time!)
(...The pressure this man exerts is unbelievable. Just facing him feels like my nerves are being ground away...)
Aizen innocently enjoying games with a friend.
Ayanokōji misunderstanding everything as an extreme psychological examination.
Their battle continued late into the night.
Several hours later.
(...Kiyotaka went home already. Man, that was seriously fun! I should invite him again sometime!)
Wrapped in satisfaction, I drifted off to sleep on my bed.
Meanwhile, back in his own room, Ayanokōji Kiyotaka collapsed onto his bed the moment he returned, consumed by overwhelming exhaustion.
Not physical fatigue.
His mental energy had been utterly drained by hours of "high-level psychological warfare"—
(which was actually just video games.)
(...What a terrifying man. Aizen Sōsuke. He turns every aspect of daily life into a game board designed to dominate others...)
After being completely destroyed in the fighting game, Ayanokōji subconsciously reinterpreted his exhaustion as "damage from psychological warfare."
Thus, the two strongest products of the White Room continued accelerating their catastrophic and ridiculous misunderstanding of one another across the vast game board known as the Advanced Nurturing High School.