"Oh... Yuki, did you just wake up? Did we wake you?"
Kitagawa Ryo stepped into the room just after and broke the slight awkward silence. Yuki blinked back to clarity, shaking her head as she pulled off the blanket and climbed down from the bed.
"It's fine. I just slept enough. Sleeping too long might give me a headache."
She bent down to retrieve her slippers from under the bed, and Ryo handed them to her naturally. Then, standing up, he tilted his head toward Sakayanagi Arisu.
"Sakayanagi Arisu. You should've seen Yuki before."
Having greeted Yuki, Ryo turned to introduce her to Arisu.
"Yuki, a fourth-generation student of the White Room. Also my roommate."
"Of course, that's due to special circumstances."
Hearing this, Arisu averted her gaze, her eyes drifting downward to her toes as she muttered:
"Didn't you already introduce her publicly at the cultural festival?"
"After all, she's the genius you claimed is even more talented than me."
Just then, Yuki, now wearing her slippers, walked over and hurriedly shook her head in denial:
"That's not true. I saw Sakayanagi-san's performance. Your ability in the rapid mental calculation event alone is something I could never catch up to."
After finishing, she extended a hand and gave a flawless smile.
"Nice to meet you, Sakayanagi-san."
Even Yuki herself found the title a little awkward and stiff, but everyone she'd seen address this girl of the same age used that somewhat respectful term, so she followed suit.
Over the past few months, the White Room had gradually eased restrictions on outside information, and through various means, Yuki had come to learn a little about Sakayanagi Arisu's identity. To someone raised in the White Room, the instructors and Ayanokouji Atsuomi were already the pinnacle of her perceived world. So for the Sakayanagi family and the Tokyo Metropolitan Advanced Nurturing High School to go head-to-head with the White Room—they must be truly remarkable.
"No need for such formalities. Sakayanagi or Arisu is fine."
Arisu also found it strange being addressed so formally by someone her own age.
"Then I'll call you Arisu."
"In the White Room, we all call each other by our first names because none of us have surnames."
Yuki's eyes curved as she smiled, a smile so warm and natural it even surprised Arisu.
Neither on her first visit nor now on her second had Arisu seen any child in the White Room smile. Especially on that first visit, all the children had been like wild beasts tearing at one another, as if they'd lost the innate human ability to smile.
"Why can Yuki smile?"
The question slipped out instinctively. Arisu was probing for what made this girl special—what had drawn Kitagawa Ryo to her.
Though it sounded strange, Yuki had already been asked this many times by the White Room staff. She had been selected as the "Cotton Mother" of the fourth generation precisely because she was the only one who could smile.
The last person who asked her a similar question was her peer, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka.
Ever since the fourth generation was split into two groups for comparison testing, Kiyotaka's group had experienced rapid elimination. In the blink of an eye, he was the only one left.
Because the fourth generation all dined in the same cafeteria at noon, Yuki would see him every day at lunch. But until recently, he had never spoken to her.
Kiyotaka always ate alone, mechanically and in silence.
"Can I ask you something?"
That was why Yuki remembered so clearly the moment he finally approached her.
"Why... are you able to smile? And compared to before, you smile even more now."
His tone was flat, but his eyes brimmed with curiosity.
Back then, Yuki had answered:
"I don't really know. But when I'm around Ryo, it just feels natural to smile."
Kiyotaka knew the name Ryo, but still couldn't understand it.
Was it truly possible that without being near a specific person, one simply couldn't feel the emotion of joy?
That thought lingered in his mind. He recalled how the instructors would often show anger in response to poor performance by students.
So smiles too... were they the same? Directed at someone? Meant for someone?
Yuki had no idea what Kiyotaka had been thinking at the time. But now, in response to Arisu's question, the memory resurfaced, and she gave the same answer:
"As long as I'm around Ryo, I find myself smiling easily."
But unlike with Kiyotaka, this time as she looked into Arisu's eyes, Yuki suddenly felt a little self-conscious. That answer now seemed narrow, even a bit boastful.
Like a child from a small village trying to impress a child from the big city, exaggerating and treasuring the little she had.
Trying to inflate that small piece of advantage into something grand enough to stand against the world.
To bridge the gap of... information disparity.
Yuki instinctively took a step behind Kitagawa Ryo, as if the gesture gave her a sense of safety.
She had only ever known the world of the White Room, aside from the heavy snowfall outside.
So Yuki could tell that Sakayanagi Arisu was different from her, different from the children raised in the White Room. Arisu carried with her an air of confidence and grace that was almost impenetrable, even when her voice was soft, polite, and gentle.
Everyone has a part of themselves they lack the most. Some long for it, others fear it, because what hurts us most often is precisely what we lack.
Sakayanagi Arisu was also observing Yuki. Aside from Ryo, the children of the White Room were emotionally stunted, so she could clearly sense the girl's mood.
She was jealous.
Children feel jealousy too, though often without even realizing it. Like not wanting to let go of a beloved toy, even a single extra word exchanged with someone else could trigger that delicate feeling.
But Yuki's emotions ran deeper. Considering the isolation of the White Room and the suspension bridge effect, Arisu wasn't too surprised.
She was merely defending herself.
That was how Arisu interpreted Yuki's behavior.
It was the kind of light one clutches in the deepest despair.
Maybe... she wasn't the only one feeling jealous.
Lowering her gaze slightly, Arisu looked toward the lower bunk bed.
The still-warm blanket gave off a soft, cotton-like warmth.
A cozy nest.
Inside it lay two pillows.
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Sakayanagi Arisu seemed out of sorts. She flubbed her lines twice during the latest scripted segment. Kitagawa Ryo gently took her hand, snapping her out of her daze. Her palm was sweaty—slippery and cool like a fish.
"Let's go eat."
His words were both to her and a signal to the production team.
Realizing Arisu wasn't in her best condition, the director and on-site crew didn't push further and ended the morning shoot.
Arisu herself could sense something was off. She suddenly recalled the look on Chabashira Sae's face a few days ago. Back then, she'd scoffed at the woman for being love-obsessed—but now she realized something wasn't right.
Feelings of affection, even the faintest trace, could instantly disarm a person—make them forget all their sharpness, vigilance, and even harshness.
Her mind had become a sponge. Every word and gesture from him crashed in like waves, swelling her thoughts until they were bloated, soft, and fragile.
She shook her head, wringing out the soaked sponge in her mind—but she didn't pull away from Kitagawa Ryo's hand.
Ryo's past felt like the White Room itself—a land blanketed in snow, with no wounds or memories. As if everything could still be rearranged, re-recorded, rewritten at will.
But Yuki's presence had chipped a piece off that pure white backdrop. Old scents and long-buried truths peeked through.
Arisu remembered when she first met Kitagawa Ryo—the countless needle marks on his arm still pricked at her memory like shards in a dream.
Maybe she didn't need to chase after the truth.
But she couldn't convince herself not to.
She had already decided—she would truly get to know him, to understand him.
Kitagawa Ryo held a double allure for Sakayanagi Arisu.
Warmth and curiosity. Both equally lethal.
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At lunch, Ayanokouji Atsuomi—the public face of the White Room—arrived at the cafeteria.
The past few months had been smooth sailing for him. With Kitagawa Ryo and the White Room gaining fame, more and more political and financial figures sought to connect with him. Even members of the Naoe faction, once cautious of being dragged down, were now approaching him with overtures.
After all, Kijima, the fourth-ranking leader of the party, had risen through his ties with the Tokyo Metropolitan Advanced Nurturing High School, leveraging the reputation it brought him to expand his network while maintaining a polished public image.
To many, the White Room's ascent seemed poised to mirror Kijima's path. In fact, Atsuomi's position within the Naoe faction had already improved—especially as Naoe Jinnosuke grew increasingly frail.
Arisu glanced toward the middle-aged man speaking confidently in the center of the room. She slowly brought food to her mouth, eyes narrowing.
If in the past, her goal had only been to fulfill her father's wish and destroy the White Room—
Then now, Sakayanagi Arisu had added a new objective:
She needed more information.
About everything related to Kitagawa Ryo.
And Ayanokouji Atsuomi—he was clearly a good place to start.
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