08 / 04 / 2019 — Daito, Osaka Prefecture, Japan.
The sharp electronic chime signalled the end of Subject Three, and with it, the proficiency test was finally over.
"Pencils down, pass the papers forward!"
The teacher's voice drifted through Akane's ears. Letting out a small sigh, he set his thin mechanical pencil down on the wooden desk and leaned comfortably against the backrest. On his end, everything was done.
Looking down at his full test sheet, complex words were scattered freely across the paper — he highly doubted the faculty would even understand what he had written. Regardless, it wasn't his problem. If they could actually decode it, bonus points for them.
Smirking lightly at the thought, he lifted his head to observe how the rest of the classroom was behaving now that the gruelling testing period had finally concluded.
"Shirakami-san…"
A girl's voice came from directly behind him — calm, but with a trace of hesitation buried beneath it.
'Hmmm…'
Flinching slightly at the sudden sound of his name, Akane steadied his racing thoughts. He slowly turned his body sideways in his chair, resting his hands over the backrest to look at the seat behind him.
Through the thin lenses of his silver-rimmed glasses, illuminated by the slanting golden sunlight filtering through the window, sat a girl in a sailor uniform.
She possessed long, straight cool-toned hair that transitioned from a unique grayish-purple into stark white right at the roots. Locking eyes with her for a brief second, he noted a pair of sharp, remarkably calm reddish-pink eyes.
A large dark bow was fastened at the back of her head, faintly visible as she tilted it. Akane shifted his gaze down to her outstretched hands.
A mere second passed in reality — but internally, his high-speed cognitive processors had already completed a thorough psychological profile.
"Thank you, Shirakami-san."
Pulling up the corner of his mouth into a polite smile, Akane reached out and took the test paper from her hand. He turned back toward the front of the classroom, his eyes locking onto the broad back of Masayuki's uniform.
"It's no problem, Hayasawa-san…"
With his fleeting smile brightening a fraction, Akane stacked Hayasawa's paper neatly on top of his own. Leaning forward, he poked the back of Masayuki's head with the edge of the sheets, wasting absolutely no time.
"Hey, hey, hey. There's still some papers left back here…"
"Ah…!"
Masayuki flinched in surprise. Feeling tickled as Akane accidentally brushed the paper against his side, Masayuki instantly whipped his body around, adopting the exact same casual sideways posture Akane had used a moment ago.
"Right, man! If you didn't speak up, I completely would've forgotten you were back there!"
In a thoroughly incredulous tone, the squinty-eyed Masayuki reached out and took the papers from Akane's hand. The boy quickly turned back to the front of the row, passing Akane's stack up to the podium.
"Well, now! What's done is done!" Done with his responsibilities, Masayuki let out a loud sigh and turned back around. With a beaming smile, he looked at Akane. "Do you have any plans after this, Shirakami?"
Akane was already looking outside, propping his chin lazily in his palm. His dull eyes slowly scanned the vast open sports field below.
"None. Are you planning to do something?"
Humming quietly as he thought about it, Akane realised he had nothing immediate on his schedule. Or rather, he had far too many complex things to investigate — but squeezing a little time out for normal social interaction wasn't a bad calculation at all.
His gaze idly tracked the older upperclassmen shouting, running, and playing out on the field.
Right now, his physical condition had completely stabilised. Because he lacked a massive external energy source, his regeneration capability had stagnated — locking him down to the fragile, slow limits of a normal human body.
"Well, before we get into that, did you ever play 'Brave Hearts'?" Masayuki leaned in, his voice dropping to an excited whisper. "In short, me, Motoharu, and Tsuchi are planning a raid on the 30th floor tonight!"
'Ah…'
Akane is silent for a bit as he tilted his head in confusion, then after a while, he rolled his eyes slightly toward the ceiling. The mention of that familiar game title dug up a few dormant archives from the depths of his memory.
Humming in a knowing tone, the details finally clicked.
Brave Hearts was a massively popular game released roughly three years ago — a cutting-edge Virtual Reality MMORPG representing a major breakthrough in the gaming industry and the ultimate dream of modern youth.
If his memory served correctly, the setting took place inside a colossal tower floating in a void of blue sky called the Cradles, a structure designed to imprison legendary heroes from across different realms.
The objective was simple: clear all one hundred floors and slay the Tower King to escape. That, at least, was what he had skimmed in the promotional articles.
Then again…
'Even if the economy is stable, buying a dedicated gaming cabin is an immense luxury for a middle-class household, isn't it?'
Turning his gaze back toward the open sports field, Akane calculated the logistics. It seemed Motoharu Kazu, Tsuchimikado Ishida, and Masayuki all hailed from exceptionally wealthy families.
A top-tier gaming cabin was astronomically expensive. Granted, there was always the cheaper option of a virtual-reality visor — but the trade-off was a massive reduction in neural sensitivity and immersion, a far cry from the terrifyingly realistic experience offered by a full-sized cabin.
'Hmm… should I purchase one too?'
Akane raised his eyebrows in idle thought. Though he had heard of it before, he had never had the chance or desire to play — as an elementary schooler, access had been restricted in many ways.
Though he knew this, the others — Masayuki, Motoharu, and Tsuchimikado, now coming of age — at least had a permit to play.
And now that he knew his aunt Risha was the General Director of a multi-billion-dollar global arms manufacturer, a few thousand dollars for a gaming rig should have been laughable.
But unfortunately, ever since their confrontation yesterday, handling his aunt had become a delicate equation. The woman was currently acting like a skittish cat that had just had its tail stepped on.
"Haaah… let's see about that later," Akane replied after a few seconds of calculated delay, his tone laced with sudden, heavy melancholy.
Internally, a profound pang of regret from yesterday evening washed over him. He could still vividly picture the scene in the living room when he had bluntly confronted his aunt.
'I want money. Give me money.'
Such a simple, reasonable demand. Yet from that exact moment onward…
'My daily allowance was strictly locked down, and I can't even make basic purchases now…'
Recalling the memory made his jaw tighten. Why on earth did it have to turn out like this? Their family possessed an empire of wealth, yet she had suddenly panicked — terrified he would squander the cash and become a corrupted, spoiled brat.
What an absolute joke. While the risk of a normal child losing their mind to wealth wasn't entirely statistically overruled, paper money was nothing more than a superficial mortal currency to him.
For a transcendental entity of his calibre, possessing capital was merely a matter of administrative convenience. Why did she have to deny him based on such a ridiculously mundane, maternal logic? Who did she think he was?
Lost in his silent, arrogant critique, Akane unconsciously bit down on his own finger. The sharp flare of pain instantly snapped his thoughts back to reality, leaving him staring deadpan at his desk.
'I knew it. It's much better to simply study the Runes and technological blueprints Fraiigilar left behind. I should focus on the Lower Archive, and then optimise my physical body structure…'
What exactly was Brave Hearts anyway? What was a gaming rig? A virtual-reality visor? What on earth were those things — did they taste good?
Suddenly, his heart felt more peaceful than it ever had, as if he had instantly achieved a state of absolute spiritual enlightenment.
'Ah, so this is what Buddha feels like,' he mused dryly.
Simply put, it seemed the sole purpose of Masayuki's existence in his life was to serve as a constant, loud reminder to stay true to his original goals. Or perhaps a more fitting analogy:
'I must become a hermit. Isolate myself like a hermit, and then live like a hermit.'
He let out a silent sigh. It was genuinely mentally draining to argue with oneself like this.
Shaking his head faintly to dispel the absurd inner monologue, Akane began tidying up the items on his wooden desk, stacking his stationery neatly — he had absolutely nothing else to do.
Still, work was work. He would endure the rest of this mundane day.
———
"HAAAHHH—!!"
SLAM!
The sharp echoes of a synchronised shout tore through the rafters as a volleyball was spiked violently into the hardwood. It bounced straight off the floor and soared high into the gym's ceiling grid, drawing a collective gasp from the captive audience.
The heavy, musky smell of varnished wood, old mats, and the faint saltiness of stale sweat hung thick in the humid air.
The morning's quiet, sterile atmosphere of the testing room had completely evaporated. Now, the entire first-year student body was packed tightly onto the gym floor, forced to endure the chaotic, unbearable whirlwind of the afternoon Club Presentations.
"Have you guys decided where you're going to waste the rest of your spare time yet? Masayuki, Tsuchi… Shirakami?"
Speaking in a calm but noticeably strained tone was Motoharu Kazu. Hearing the prompt, Akane tilted his head slightly, shifting his gaze to the boy leaning against the concrete wall beside him.
Motoharu possessed short, straight dark hair — slightly messy and parted down the middle. He had fair skin, a naturally serious face, and a habitually focused expression.
He wore glasses just like Akane, though his were rectangular with thick black rims framing dark eyes. He was dressed in the exact same standard black school jacket as every other boy in their grade.
Right now, however, Motoharu was smiling like a thoroughly constipated person.
Akane watched him with a brief flicker of internal confusion. Over the last seventy-two hours, he had successfully mapped out and formed a functional social network with a quarter of Class A.
It had honestly been much easier than he anticipated. Gaining friends wasn't an overly complex equation — Akane was already on casual, nod-and-hello terms with his entire seating row.
There was Hayasawa Akira, remarkably serious and a bit strange. There was Tsuchimikado, a textbook definition of an airheaded, carefree spirit. And, of course, the cunning wannabe-tactician with the snake-like eyes — Masayuki.
Bringing his attention back to the current conversation, Akane maintained a deadpan expression. From his initial profiling, Motoharu was supposed to be the typical reliable intellectual type.
Yet beneath those smart black frames, a profound gap of pure stupidity would occasionally rear its head. All in all, a steady guy, but…
'No way. Don't tell me he's actually terrified of after-school activities?'
"Are you perhaps afraid of joining a club, Motoharu-san?" Akane replied smoothly before anyone else could speak, his tone a craft of mild boredom and curiosity.
"That won't do. Youthful students like us are supposed to blend in, cooperate, and enjoy the beautiful spring scenery by committing to a club, aren't we?"
Under his steady gaze, Motoharu flinched. His calm academic facade nearly crumbled on the spot. He quickly shoved his glasses up his nose, fingers visibly trembling as he offered a thoroughly strained, sweaty smile.
"Shirakami… you don't understand," Motoharu whispered darkly.
"Clubs are just a state-sponsored guise. Beneath the surface, it's nothing but endless manual labour designed to squeeze every drop of your life energy into something inherently, structurally meaningless…"
And? Akane remained entirely unimpressed. He already knew the fundamental futility of the modern education system — did this guy honestly think he was naive?
Before he could voice his dry critique, Tsuchimikado chimed in from the other side, leaning over with a wide grin.
"The thing is, you can't actually avoid it anyway, Shishimi~"
The blond-haired boy smiled brightly, his spiked locks swept back — fair skin complementing a pair of friendly eyes with a faint trace of green. He grinned widely, thoroughly enjoying the look of profound existential sorrow currently overtaking Motoharu's face.
'Alright, hold on. What the hell is a Shishimi?'
Akane's internal processors stuttered. 'My nickname? It's literally only the third day of school, and we've somehow navigated our way to this level of casual intimacy?'
Pulling his gaze away from his friends, he turned his face back toward the gym floor, where the Basketball Club was currently performing their chaotic drill. He crossed his arms tightly across his chest, letting the sea of noisy students flood his vision.
'Shishimi,' he repeated dryly to himself.
At this alarming rate of social development, he was genuinely terrified they would be swearing a lifelong bond of blood brotherhood by the weekend.
"Honestly, it's surprising that club activities are even running normally, considering our city is practically in ruins right now…" Masayuki chimed in from Akane's right.
He was holding a light novel in one hand, his face a complex mix of helplessness and sheer amazement. "Shouldn't there be a public holiday or something for a crisis like this?"
'A perfect window.'
Akane snapped back from his idle thoughts about his nickname. This was an invaluable opportunity to gauge how ordinary citizens were mentally processing the situation.
"What does it even matter to the higher-ups anyway?" Motoharu muttered, having finally composed himself. Though his demeanour had calmed, his voice carried a bitter edge.
"The principal didn't even bother to cancel or postpone the entrance ceremony. Don't you think that's… well, completely warped?"
At his side, Tsuchimikado let out a heavy sigh, twirling a finger near his temple in an exasperated gesture.
"No matter how you look at it, something is seriously wrong, Kazu! How the hell are we even supposed to just focus on school after an outbreak like that…?"
Lowering his head, Tsuchimikado's voice dropped to a cautious whisper, his eyes darting nervously around the crowded gym. "The principal has got to be missing a few screws, right?"
'Exactly, Tsuchimikado,' Akane nodded internally.
Who in their right mind would try to enforce standard lower-secondary education in a half-destroyed district? Granted, drowning the populace in perpetual grief wasn't a functional strategy either, and a paralysed society benefited no one.
Still, the administrative priority placed on junior high attendance under these conditions felt entirely backward.
"Right, right… Then again…" Masayuki snapped his book shut. The curiosity on his face shifted in an instant, his gaze locking sequentially onto Motoharu, Tsuchimikado, and finally Akane.
Leaning in closer, he lowered his voice to a shadow. "Hey… have any of you actually seen those creatures they've been carting out of the city centre? Ugh…"
Akane tilted his head in practised innocent confusion. Beside him, Motoharu's analytical facade completely faltered — a flash of instinctual fear crossing his eyes — while Tsuchimikado went completely rigid.
"I'm guessing you have," Masayuki whispered, taking their tense silence as an answer.
"At least the military didn't manage to conceal everything. But damn… how does a massive biological outbreak like that even happen out of nowhere?"
"Well, who hasn't seen them at this point?" Motoharu replied grimly. "Even if the mainstream news networks try to scrub the footage… the literal corpses were rotting right in the commercial district."
"Yeah… you're not wrong."
Both Motoharu and Tsuchimikado lapsed into a heavy, suffocating silence.
On the flank of the group, Akane silently logged the dialogue into his mental archives, dissecting every micro-expression and choice of words.
A critical baseline had been established: a voice of deep-seated dissent and scepticism was already festering among the civilian population.
'Which means that even if their superficial memories have been systematically altered or suppressed, doubt remains the strongest primal instinct inside them. To fear the anomalous unknown is the ultimate human norm…'
Then again… what if he were to fan the flames just a little?
Intrigued by the sudden potential for entertainment, the corners of Akane's lips curved upward into a subtle smirk. He uncrossed his arms, slipping his hands casually into his jacket pockets.
"Hey, think about it for a second…" He leaned forward, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper that drew them closer.
"Since those twisted creatures were capable of tearing the city apart like that… have you ever considered the possibility that a few of them might have slipped right through the military's containment net?"
The effect was instantaneous. The others collectively gulped, their attention snapping entirely to him. Motoharu looked visibly surprised but immediately lapsed into deep thought. Tsuchimikado's reaction was just as swift — a sharp twinkle flashing in his eyes — while Masayuki simply looked thoroughly freaked out.
"We… can't entirely rule that out…" Motoharu whispered back. Hesitant, yet a distinct firmness was taking root in his logic.
Just like that, the four of them drew into a tight, strange huddle on the edge of the gym floor. Masayuki opened his mouth as if desperately wanting to protest, but the words caught in his throat. Before he could speak, Tsuchimikado suddenly smacked his knuckle into his open palm.
"Right! I remember now!" Tsuchimikado hissed, successfully capturing the group's undivided attention. His eyes darted nervously around the gymnasium once again.
'Is that a nervous habit of his?' Akane wondered, mildly amused. Regardless, someone had officially taken the bait.
"Kazu, Masayuki, Shirakami — do you guys know about that abandoned residential street right near the base of the mountain?"
Out of the three, Akane was the first to fall silent, a look of genuine ignorance on his face as his eyes idly drifted to the other two. Masayuki looked equally clueless, his gaze locking with Akane's as he offered a sheepish helpless smile.
Only Motoharu seemed to possess the missing data — his eyes widened in sudden enlightened realisation.
"Ohhhhh… that place!" Motoharu snapped his head toward Tsuchimikado, his voice sharp with disbelief. "No way. Are you actually serious right now?"
Tsuchimikado flashed a cocky peace sign, his grin widening.
"Dead serious! My house is pretty close to that neighbourhood, you know. Ever since last Saturday… there have been all these bizarre rustling sounds and unknown growls coming from the overgrown yards…"
To emphasise his point, Tsuchimikado dramatically wrapped his arms around his own torso, wriggling his shoulders as if shivering from a deep supernatural chill.
In Akane's eyes, the display didn't look terrifying at all. The blond boy simply resembled an eager earthworm, wiggling in pure excitement at the prospect of breaking through to the surface.
'Unbelievable,' Akane thought dryly. 'Is this what the locals refer to as an adventurous spirit?'