Our Ordinary Lives

Chapter 23.5 - Playground

Ayanokoji POV

It's strange. I originally came to ANHS to experience what it would be like to live a normal, peaceful life. I thought that once freed from my bounds, I would be content with the little time I had. Matsuo probably wished that for me too. And, for the most part, that's what I wanted: to learn how to be just like the others—less detached, more personal, more human.

But that wasn't enough. Even now, I observe them from a vantage point, their actions, beliefs, goals, hopes—all so trivial. I understand them, perhaps even more deeply than they understand themselves. I see their true selves. Whether arrogant fools, cowards, or the deluded, I see it all. Yet, I cannot grasp the essence of it. The concept eludes me. I understand the human mind, how it thinks, why it acts as it does, but I cannot comprehend what makes it truly human. What is it that separates me from them? How do I bridge the gap?

I tried being passive, hoping they would paint the blank canvas that I am. I tried making friends, building relationships. But no matter what I did, I could never see people as anything more than pieces to be moved, relationships as mechanisms to be engineered and controlled. Hope is for those who lack the data needed to draw effective conclusions. And, for all the faults of my father, I can agree with him on at least one premise:

I am not like them. I can not delude myself any further.

I had no interest in being more involved, in sparking conflict, in being known. But the opportunity presented to me was something I could never pass on. Why merely watch when you can study? Experiment? ANHS, the place I wanted to learn to be like those I could have been. Who I once was. Even looking back now, the shred of naivete, of optimism within me, seems so foreign—like gazing at a child that isn't mine, an imperfect reflection. Where others see attributes and uniqueness, I see only flaws and weaknesses to be exploited.

I know these next few years will be short and will be the only time I can experience normalcy, to any degree. I know my father will bring his full might against me, and I know he will succeed in the end, no matter what I do. In truth, I never truly left the White Room.

So why not make the experience as fulfilling as possible? Why not truly test the limits of human nature? I knew what Ai was planning to do, and it intrigued me—how far people will go to protect an artificial image. I told myself I would let her be. I told herself it was not my affair to deal with. I told myself that with Sudo. I told myself that with Horikita.

The net I've cast will be the first of many. The first test, the first trial. And if it fails, though I doubt it will, there will always be more to do.

After all, why not create my very own White Room?

Trying my hand at writing monolouges from Koji.