Kiyotaka Pov
The bus bumped along the road as it passed over each pothole. I held onto my seat tightly to make sure I wouldn't go flying out of it and hit the poor old man in front of me, who was currently standing on shaky legs.
It would be really bad seeing as the Old Man had a picture of what I would assume to be his wife. The frame was black and it looked like it was a funeral picture. Yeesh.
He occasionally wiped his eyes and was staring out the window at the distant buildings of the city of Tokyo.
The blue sky was beautiful, with clouds occasionally covering the sun and providing relief from the blazing orb.
Ahead of me was a girl with blonde hair that went to her waist. She was staring intently across the aisle that separated the two rows at a rather large looking boy who was taking up two seats. If I'm going to be honest, he looked like a hunk of muscle based on how much space he was taking up.
His leg was sticking haphazardly into the aisle, and people were wary to not accidentally brush against it.
He and the other girl both wore the same uniform I had: a red blazer with green pants, a skirt for the girl of course, and a tie for the boy and I.
The bus bumped violently suddenly, and the Old Man almost fell over, barely catching himself on the side of the wall. Everyone looked at the commotion, and the Old Man hurriedly looked away.
The girl looked at the boy lying down.
"Hey, shouldn't you stop lying on the seats?" she said with a firm gaze directed down at him. "There are other people who need to sit down."
His face tilted up from its place on the arm rest. Everyone gasped, looking at his features. He wore a myriad of scars and marks that spread across his face like a deep canyon that would snake across the desert.
He had blonde-silvery spiky hair that was short to the base of his neck, and blue eyes like the sky itself.
Several people looked away immediately or displayed some fear, but the blonde girl stood strong in front of the boy as if to defy him.
"It's quite alright young lady," squeaked the Old Man, "I can sta-woah!"
As he finished his sentence, the bus bumped another time, shaking the bus like a baby's rattle. The senior let out a cry as his body was thrown forward.
Quickly, the girl reacted, catching him by the torso. She took a moment, steadying him before she spoke.
"She has fast reflexes."
"Are you OK, Sir?"
Her blue eyes stared into his, and he nodded weakly, "Yes, yes, thank you for catching me!"
"Let the geezer fall already," chuckled the boy as he straightened his back. His eyebrows raised as he inspected the man's wobbling knees and laughed.
"What do you mean by that?" asked a girl with bubble-gum pink hair. She wasn't looking at the boy, but was looking at something in her lap.
The girl was sitting in front of me, and before the rude comment, she was invested in a weirdly shaped device. It was similar to an older phone model, but on the screen was a picture of a guy with a big black mustache and red hat.
I believe that is what someone would call a video game console.
This girl must be very courageous, seeing as she stood up to such a large foe. It takes immense bravery and courage to stand up to somebody who looks like they could snap you like a glow stick.
"Whaddya think it means? He's a waste of space, let him drop and join the chick in his photo."
Everybody on the bus gasped and the man let out a cry.
He jammed his index finger toward the boy and cried out, "How could you say such an awful thing?! Youths like you are ruining this society!"
"Hey, hey," said the boy in a deep voice as he pushed himself up to a sitting position, "Say that again, will ya?"
Now, everybody could see the muscle he had. The muscles on his arms were so big they were clear even in the formal school uniform.
The man gasped and stepped back against the wall of the bus with a look of fear all over his face.
The boy laughed and placed his feet on the ground, slowly advancing towards the Old Man, "Say that again for me, eh? Or are you afraid of something?"
"You-you!" he cried out as his face paled while the boy came closer to his shivering form.
"Stop right there," commanded the blonde-haired girl angrily. She stepped in front of the quivering form of the Old Man and threw her hand forward to stop the approaching boy. Her hand stopped right in front of his solar plexus and he stopped walking.
A smile broke out onto his face, "Oh yeah? Y'know, I'm not against hitting a woman. Maybe even killing her~"
The girl he was speaking to was Nanase Tsubasa, a "colleague" of mine you could say.
As for why we're working together?
To expel the Masterpiece, Masayoshi Shiro. He was the only survivor of the Demonic Fourth generation, which was even more rigorous than my generation.
Flashback
"Kiyotaka. Are you prepared to take on a mission even if it costs you your life?" asked That Man in front of me.
We were in his office, a room filled with lavish carpets, expensive paintings, and bookshelves that lined the walls.
The director of the White Room, my father, had called me here today to discuss something.
"Yes," I replied blankly.
My emotionless face betrayed me slightly. I was excited. Missions were unheard of, but we have been trained to take a multitude of them.
Espionage, assassination, arms dealing, and many other tasks were expected of us. As such, we were trained in each.
Only three of us remained:
Takuya
Ichika
And me.
All three of us rose above the rest, yet I was always at the top of our generation.
My generation focused on collaboration. We were raised in isolation from each other at first, only communicating with the instructors in conversation-based games.
We were taught how to adapt to any social situation, and how to charm, manipulate, and use people to our will.
All of this was for a simple goal: To become the peak human.
At the age of five we were finally exposed to each other, and that's when the competition began.
Day after day, Takuya tried to defeat me. At first, he had a few successful victories which he would boast about, but what he didn't realize, is that as I lost I only grew stronger.
Stronger until he couldn't defeat me no matter how hard he tried.
Then, there was Ichika.
She was a strong girl, no doubt, and very eccentric. She has an obsession for Shiro, the Masterpiece.
Some think he's a fictional entity meant to motivate us, and others believe that he is a monster beyond our comprehension.
I've always been curious about him. Somebody who's been raised in harsher conditions than my own yet he still is mentally sane?
I wanted to speak to him, see how are views of our limited worlds differed.
A human being can gain many things from talking to somebody from another location.
Point of view, experiences, beliefs, cultures, language, mannerisms, and so much more can be learned from just a simple conversation.
So that made me wonder.
Are all humans truly equal?
Everywhere you go, whether it be the internet or outside your favorite coffee shop, you would hear about the fight for equality. People joining together to fight for a world without unfair elements.
As a wise man once said, "Heaven does not create one person above or below another." People like to throw these words around. That's not the whole quote. It goes on to say that "... while we are all equal at birth, pretty soon, things begin to change. Academic effort is what sets some people apart to rise above the others.
At any rate, humans change over time based on their actions. Truth be told, at the end of the day, equality is just a fantasy. And most of us go through life denying the fact that we live in a meritocracy. But those people often do not end up near the top. In my opinion, those who do not look into the truth, try to discern the truth and the lies, those who do not do that, are the most unsuccessful.
However, I have to wonder if those people are living a better life than the elites. Living in bliss, not caring for the unfair acts committed around them.
Never mind that.
What ensued after this meeting was...torture.
I was placed in an experimental curriculum, curriculum Beta.
I was subjected to cruel punishment, physical tasks and mental gymnastics to rapidly progress in one year to be Shiro's level.
Vomiting became a common occurrence. The red ooze that came from my wounds mixed with the bile, creating a disgusting thick puddle on the white floor.
Still, I would have to keep fighting, jumping up and bracing for impact as the instructor slammed the metal baton into the side of my arm.
They were trying to kill me.
If I had been any slower the baton would have shattered my skull and the bones would impale my brain, killing me swiftly.
If I died, then it was proof that this curriculum was only for Shiro, and then my lifeless body would be deposited somewhere never to see the light of day again, so it was a worthwhile endeavor.
They had two backup students in the form of Ichika and Takuya, so I was but a Guinea pig hooked up to a car battery.
Against the odds, I continued to fight, growing stronger and stronger.
I cannot count on two hands the amount of times armed men broke into my sleeping quarters and attempted to kill me.
I adapted and fought back, eventually managing to subdue them.
Only then was I considered ready for them.
Meanwhile, Takuya and Ichika were moved to the level 8 Curriculum, 3 curriculum levels below mine.
The facility wanted them alive in case I was killed in the onslaught, so they played it more conservatively, or so I've heard.
I have yet to speak to either of them since our separation one year ago.
Now, I'm on the bus to ANHS, the school of the elite, the school of dreams, and the school of the Masterpiece.
My eyes floated over to the boy who had Nanase trapped against the wall, and I decided now was the time to take action.
I stood up from my seat and moved through the bus quickly like a wind, stopping between Nanase and the delinquent.
"Stop fighting," I commanded, sending a steely gaze into the boy's icy blue eyes.
He chortled and leaned down towards my face, and said, "Tryna be a hero? Sit down before I rip that face of yours right off."
His hot breath washed over my face but I didn't let it disturb me visibly one bit. Showing him weakness would only encourage his actions.
"I will not be doing that. Back away now, or I'll have the Bus Driver kick you off."
At that remark, the bus driver at the front shook his head nervously and kept his eyes on the road.
"Ooh I'm scared," he said, pretending to be intimidated by tucking his hands together and shifting his face to match a puppy.
Quickly, this melted away and he sneered, "Neither of you will do shit. Sit down. Now."
Behind me, a weak tug at my sleeve alerted me to the Old Man trying to communicate. He silently shook his head at me, and I sighed.
"Here, you can have my seat," I said with a smile while gesturing to my now vacant seat.
As I smiled, I heard a few high squeaks come from girls around the bus, making their faces red. Did they all simultaneously catch a cold?
"Thank you Sonny, and Young Lady. People like you bring hope to this old-timer," he said with a wry smile.
"Is that so? I'm only doing my part as a functioning member of society," I said smoothly and politely.
"As am I. Now enjoy the rest of your ride," said Nanase with a nod.
With that, the Old Man plopped down into my seat and sighed, wrapping his hands around the portrait, "Oh darling, I miss you so."
"Is that your wife?" asked Nanase suddenly, pointing at the old woman in the photo.
"Yes! She rode this very bus just a year ago! Now that I remember it, a similar situation happened to her! An insolent teen taking up priority seating."
As he spoke, a deep frown etched itself onto his face and he side-eyed the delinquent who was now draped over the chair again.
Ignoring the sight, I turned to the man, "How sad. Some people just don't respect others anymore."
"It's shameful!" crowed the Old Man.
Nanase solemnly nodded. Now, the bus fell into its normal mode again, and people began chatting amongst each other.
"Hey there," said a voice from behind me.
I turned, and in front of me was a girl with long brown hair and green eyes.
"Hi," I replied back with a smile.
A small tint of pink appeared on her cheeks, but she brushed it off, "I noticed how nice and brave you were, and I wanted to talk to you. My name is Rekaku Himari! What about you?"
"I'm Ayanokouji Kiyotaka, and thanks for complimenting me like that. All I was doing though was helping him out, it's nothing to be commended for," I said.
She giggled, "I'm not so sure about that-I was scared of stepping in so to see you do it made me feel relieved! There was a huge tension here y'know."
"Hehe, I felt that for sure."
"Mhm, well, I'm in Class A, what about you?" asked Rekaku with a glimmer of hope in her eyes.
"Class D, so it seems like we're not going to be together," I said with a fake frown.
For some reason, her cold suddenly spiked and her cheeks flushed.
"You shouldn't say such things, Ayanokouji-Kun. People might get the wrong impression," she said in a measured tone. Despite her worsening condition she still managed to speak calmly and concisely.
I tilted my head to the side, "Don't say such things? But I was just stating a fact. We'll be broken up because of our classes."
"Hm, Ayanokouji-Kun is very innocent I see," murmured Rekaku.
Innocent? How does this have to do with anything?
I pressed my hand to her forehead and spoke, "Your temperature seems pretty high, so you should go the Nurse's office."
For some reason, this onto worsened her cold, but she laughed all the same, "You must be teasing me!"
"Not at all, you're rather hot."
This comment got her really riled up as she began to laugh. She grabbed her belly and bent down slightly at the waist. Her laughter filled the bus and people looked over at her.
As Rekaku wiped a solitary tear from her eyes, and she sighed, "Ayanokouji-Kun, don't say those things to too many people or they'll get the wrong impression of you."
"I can't say I get what you're saying one bit," I said with a sigh.
As I spoke, the bus halted right outside of the school gate.
Quickly, we all got off, and I stood outside of the gate with Rekaku. We both were staring at the large stone gate in front of us. Behind it were blooming cherry blossom trees and tall buildings.
ANHS, a school that boasts a 100% college acceptance rate. This school was made and privately funded by the Japanese government to cultivate the next top leaders of Japan through a new experimental training style.
How familiar.
"Amazing," hummed Rekaku.
"Indeed. It truly is something else isn't it?"
Rekaku nodded and began to skip towards the gate, "Come on, Ayanokouji-Kun! Let's go to the entrance ceremony!"
"Right, of course."
We both walked together, learning about each other along the way.
Rekaku enjoyed Occult-related things as well as the horror genre on its own.
Her favorite color is purple, she has a pet cat named Raymond, and she loves painting.
We split ways as we had to go to different class sections.