Classroom of the elite | The path that leads to nothingness - OC

Declaration of WAR

Ayanokouji Kiyotaka lay in his bed, eyes locked on the dim light of his phone screen, scrolling with no real purpose. His expression was impassive, his fingers moving rhythmically, almost mechanically. Study materials remained untouched, gathering dust on his desk. Why would he bother? His intelligence was so refined, so innate, that even the school's rigorous curriculum posed little challenge, barely scratching the surface of his capabilities. A mere waste of time, as he likely saw it.

Just a floor above his own, another room remained vacant and dark, as it had since the school opened. This room belonged to Nakata Aiyuki, a student whose place in Class D was still undecided in many ways. But he was hardly interested in sleeping in his own bed tonight. Instead, Nakata was three floors above, in the girls' wing, comfortably asleep on the bed of Horikita Suzune.

In her dorm room, Horikita held a novel in her right hand, her fingers deftly flicking through its pages. With her other arm, she held Nakata against her, his head resting on her stomach, his breathing heavy and deep. The boy had taken his sleeping pills again tonight—a necessity to keep his nightmares at bay. Without them, he could not sleep a full night, tormented as he was by past horrors. Horikita herself had only just finished hours of rigorous study before diving into her book, a routine she held herself to with iron discipline.

Ah, and now you must be wondering—how on earth would I know this? The scene between Horikita and Nakata, or Ayanokouji's careless peace, you ask? You're likely wondering, too, why the narration sounds as if it's directly spoken to you. This is no simple narration, dear reader. This is not a voice conjured from the ether. I am, after all, no mere observer.

You see, I'm Tsukishiro Tokinari, and I have a mission. Not a simple task, not an ordinary errand. No, my purpose extends far beyond lurking here, even if that is part of the plan tonight. 

Tonight, I stand atop one of the school's lesser-monitored staff buildings. This particular roof affords me an unobstructed view of everything and everyone that matters: Ayanokouji's room, dark save for that faint blue glow; the girls' wing, where Horikita remains blissfully unaware; and even further still, the great expanse of the school's grounds. I packed my binoculars away into the soft casing of my rifle bag, the cold weight of metal a steady reminder of my purpose.

This school, with its inflated reputation and endless self-importance, boasts that it can cultivate the finest minds in the country, that it can produce leaders of remarkable intellect. But if they think Ayanokouji and Nakata are anything close to that ideal, they are simply wrong. They are merely slightly sharper children playing a child's game. Their dramas, their petty social wars—none of it carries real weight in the world beyond these walls. I'm almost amused by the school's hubris. They have no idea what lurks in the shadows of their carefully curated institution. These students think they are players in a high-stakes world. But the world I inhabit, the world I bring with me, makes their ambitions look like a child's first tantrum.

The wind picked up around me, tugging at the edges of my coat, chilling but welcome. It reminded me that this wasn't just some surveillance task. Tonight was the beginning of something... much more impactful.

~𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓪𝓽𝓱 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓼 ~

It was well past my working hours, well into the dark silence of 10:40 pm, yet my office lights burned brightly against the night. I moved in slow, contemplative circles, the luxurious surroundings of this room pressing in on me rather than offering any comfort. This office, expansive and gleaming with polished mahogany and cold glass, felt too big, too hollow, a constant reminder of the voids I tried to ignore. My hands were clasped tightly behind my back, a habit of mine when lost in thought.