1. In the long process of striving without results, one experiences various failures and setbacks.
2. One begins to believe that their efforts have no effect on outcomes, forming the perception that they cannot control the results of their actions or external events.
3. This leads to a sense of helplessness: the belief that no matter how hard they try, they cannot achieve success.
4. This results in motivational, cognitive, and emotional impairment, creating a vicious cycle.
"Learned Helplessness," by Martin Seligman, American Psychologist
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Kiyotaka.
Ayanokouji Atsuomi's eyes fell on the top line of the report in his hand. He couldn't recall exactly when, but at some point, that name had consistently taken the top spot. Academics, physical ability, even arts courses like chess and piano—in all areas, he reigned supreme. Among the fourth-generation children, he was by far the most exceptional, arguably the top performer in the entire White Room.
But beyond his stellar performance, what slightly bothered Ayanokouji Atsuomi was the boy's identity.
By blood and by law, this was his biological son.
Yet, Ayanokouji had never once considered himself the boy's father. Not from the beginning.
Even after seven or eight years, he could still vividly remember the day he and a colleague visited Naoe Jinnosuke.
The politician who casually brought up the White Room proposal had asked for their thoughts. While the colleague trembled and muttered concerns like "Wouldn't taking children from their parents be cruel?", Ayanokouji declared his loyalty on the spot.
He knew he was the most low-ranking, least-connected member of the Naoe faction. That meant he had to give more, abandon more—even his own son.
He recalled watching anxious fathers pacing outside hospital delivery rooms while campaigning for office. And then, his own first meeting with his newborn son:
"Is he healthy?"
His first question seemed normal enough, but the tone was unnervingly calm.
"Nothing unusual," the doctor answered. "All brain scans are clear. DNA testing confirms he is your biological child."
Hearing this, the man looked relieved. He walked slowly to the crib, cradled the baby with a gentle smile, and gazed at him with a trace of tenderness.
"As expected of Sensei's child..."
The assistant's flattery was immediately cut short by a cold voice:
"Hurry and start the photoshoot."
"A father willing to send his most precious child into the White Room—such determination and tension..."
"Make sure these come out well. They'll be vital propaganda at the next gathering."
With the baby in his arms, the father urged the assistant, who quickly began snapping photos.
Once finished, Ayanokouji Atsuomi returned the baby to the crib without hesitation.
"Put him in the fourth generation of White Room."
"Don't waste time."
A voice beside him brought him back from his thoughts.
"Ayanokouji-sama, here is the other half of the fourth-generation evaluation data."
"Mm."
He nodded and took the folder.
Three months prior, following his assistant's suggestion, he had split the fourth-generation children into two groups as a control experiment. The time frame was short, but clear differences had already emerged.
Kiyotaka's data outclassed everyone regardless of group, but the average performance of his own group showed a distinct decline. The assistant had even thoughtfully included a comparison chart with Kiyotaka's data removed, making the disparity even more apparent.
Moreover, most children in Kiyotaka's group had regressed compared to three months ago.
"Let's go observe."
Atsuomi stood up without hesitation, and his assistant promptly opened the office door.
They walked quickly and silently, arriving at the fourth-generation room in minutes.
Inside, the children were playing chess.
Kiyotaka defeated opponent after opponent with overwhelming dominance. Despite being just a child, he showed no joy in victory—a machine crushing challengers.
What concerned Ayanokouji was that none of the defeated children looked upset or frustrated. They calmly accepted defeat and walked away like it was nothing.
"This is learned helplessness."
His assistant explained softly, continuing as he saw Atsuomi did not object.
"In the 1960s, psychologist Martin Seligman conducted a classic experiment. Dogs were placed in cages and given unavoidable electric shocks signaled by a buzzer. Over time, even when the door was later opened before the shock, the dogs no longer tried to escape. They lay down, whimpering and trembling, before the pain even came."
"Like love, helplessness and loss of dignity are learned through repeated failures and abuse. This is learned helplessness."
Ayanokouji frowned, hands behind his back.
"So you think the problem is Kiyotaka?"
"At the moment, the data may suggest that. But only because your son is so exceptionally talented. I believe... there could be future benefits..."
"A catfish effect?"
The assistant quickly wiped sweat from his brow. He didn't know the nature of Atsuomi's relationship with Kiyotaka, but it was still his superior's biological child.
"You're right. Excellence is never a flaw."
Atsuomi turned and waved.
"Let's check the control group."
"Yes, sir."
As they walked down the hall, the assistant used the time to explain:
"When we made the decision to split the fourth generation, we also designated a 'cloth mother' for the control group."
"Since the children were already five, assigning a staff member to build emotional bonds wouldn't be effective. So we selected one from among them."
"A girl?"
Noticing the assistant's pronoun use, Atsuomi asked casually.
"Yes. Her name is YUKI (Snow)."
A fitting name for White Room. Atsuomi scoffed:
"Yuki and Ryo. The names go quite well."
They stopped at another room. The assistant pointed to a girl inside.
"That's her."
"To help her become a surrogate 'cloth mother' figure, we granted her some subtle privileges."
"It began three months ago..."
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Kitagawa Ryo rubbed his forehead as he lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling while pondering this simulation.
After drawing the White Room talent, he had already lowered his expectations for clearing the simulation. Based on the information he currently possessed, Sakayanagi Arisu would only visit White Room once, around the age of seven. Other than that, having been born inside the White Room, he would have virtually no contact with the outside world before the age of sixteen.
If everything proceeded according to the scripted story, perhaps he could escape during the chaos caused by Ayanokouji Kiyotaka's departure, or use the excuse of pursuing him as a reason to leave. But either way, he would completely miss Arisu's childhood, meaning he couldn't fulfill the clear condition for clearing this simulation.
As for more radical options, like purposefully being eliminated or attempting a direct escape—both carried immense risk. Even with several gold-tier talents, Ryo didn't believe he had enough power to flee such a highly classified facility.
Though he still had one last trump card, his current plan had shifted to [Explore White Room].
White Room remained one of the few facilities he had never truly understood.
The place that produced Ayanokouji Kiyotaka—a mysterious project said to be capable of reshaping the nation's future.
So...
"Ryo!" "Ryo-nii!"
A crowd of noisy, four-to-five-year-old children swarmed around him, their voices piercing the air. Still in their tooth-shedding phase, many of their pronunciations were so garbled even the instructors couldn't understand what they were saying.
"Hug!"
"Mm, hug."
Wearing a perfectly gentle smile, Ryo reached out and pulled the little girl in front of him into a hug, gently patting her back and stroking her hair.
"I want Ryo to tie my hair."
Another girl sparkled with anticipation as she stepped forward and handed him two hair ties.
"Same as last time, please."
Amasawa-san, you really are a product of White Room!
"No problem."
With a koala plush dangling from his neck, Ryo skillfully tied her hair into neat pigtails while muttering to himself.
Wagging her newly made twin tails, Amasawa Ichika hugged Ryo's arm from the side.
"Ryo is the best!"
Ryo twitched the corner of his mouth, but when he looked down and saw her familiar firefly-colored eyes, his heart melted.
"Let's all work hard today. No one gets eliminated, okay?"
No one gets eliminated.
Eliminated.
...ed.
A playful little lisp.
Am I... some kind of cheerful onii-san from an educational kids show?
Ryo fell into deep contemplation.
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To match the near-militarized training intensity, White Room provided each child with top-tier logistical support. From nutritious meals specially prepared by dietitians to private single rooms, everything showed just how extravagantly the Naoe faction invested in this project.
Yuki had once seen a peer scolded harshly by an instructor for crying alone at night. At an age when she couldn't even grasp the concept of "independence," that word had already been deeply etched into her brain through constant repetition.
Though still full of confusion, she forced herself to adapt. Because in this monotonous white world, failure to adapt meant vanishing.
One morning, you might simply find that someone you knew had disappeared. And for children whose entire world was this place, that was equivalent to true erasure.
She had thought these days would continue unchanged forever, just like that boy's endless victories.
But change came quietly.
A tiny girl stood in front of an unfamiliar dorm room, clutching her bedding. That morning, the instructor had informed her she would be moving to a new room after class.
No explanation was given. Instructors never explained anything.
Why read books? Why exercise? Why stay here every day?
There were no answers.
Only results mattered to them. And those results determined everyone's fate:
Stay or disappear.
Shaking off those tangled thoughts, she mustered her courage to knock on the door—but before she could, it opened.
Startled by the creaking sound, Yuki instinctively stepped back. Realizing she should greet whoever was inside, she tried to peer around her towering pile of blankets—but no matter how much she twisted, only the top of her head was visible.
Then, losing her balance from the effort, she toppled forward, blanket and all.
As the door opened, Kitagawa Ryo found himself face-to-face with a waddling blanket creature falling toward him.
Thanks to his talent-enhanced reflexes, he adjusted quickly. But his four-year-old body couldn't withstand the full weight of a bundled blanket plus a child.
He was instantly flattened.
A moment later, a small head poked out of the blankets and a girl he had never seen before gave him an apologetic smile.
"Um... sorry. And... good evening?"
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