"Children aged five to six are in the preoperational stage of cognition. One characteristic of this stage is the lack of perspective-taking ability—the capacity to view things from another's point of view. This also illustrates that children at this age are still egocentric in their thinking." —Jean Piaget, Swiss child psychologist
-------------------------------------
"Why did you choose to let Yuki interact with that child?"
Ayanokouji Atsuomi cut off his assistant's rambling and stared directly into his eyes.
In White Room, children—especially those from different generations—were strictly prohibited from meeting or communicating. So even though there were now eight generations and hundreds of children living within the facility, none of them knew the names or faces of anyone outside their cohort.
"Because there was no other choice."
The assistant adjusted his glasses and explained helplessly:
"That girl did show some traits similar to Ryo among the fourth-generation students, but... due to Kiyotaka's presence, she couldn't establish the same standing as Ryo did among the fifth-generation kids."
"If Ryo is the perfect natural-born 'cloth mother,' then she is only a half-measure. She needs to learn, or rather, to mimic."
"In reality, Yuki is no different from the rest of the fifth-generation children. She, too, clings to Ryo, even though she is a year older."
"What we want is for her to learn the concept of 'love' from Ryo and pass it on to the fifth generation. The foundation for all of this, as we discussed earlier, is—contact."
Ayanokouji's eyes flickered briefly, then he finally spoke:
"I see."
Though he said that, his expression was far from impressed. If anything, he seemed faintly disdainful, as if finding the entire process unnecessary.
Perhaps sensing this, the assistant raised his head again after a brief pause:
"That reminds me of an interesting psychological experiment, Ayanokouji-sama. Would you like to hear it?"
Hands behind his back, Ayanokouji continued watching the room but nodded indifferently.
After organizing his thoughts, the assistant began:
"Last century, child psychologist Piaget conducted a study involving children. He used a model with three mountains of different heights, sizes, and colors. First, children were asked to observe the mountains from four angles. Then, while the child sat facing one side of the model, a doll was placed on the opposite side."
"The children were then asked to choose from four pictures which one matched the doll's perspective. In repeated tests, most young children failed to complete the task. They could only describe the mountains from their own viewpoint."
"Based on these results, Piaget identified the 'preoperational stage' of childhood development—roughly from age two to six—a period of rapid cognitive development but strong egocentric thinking. Children at this stage cannot, and in fact cannot even imagine, how others perceive things."
The assistant paused briefly before continuing:
"Unlike the fake 'cloth mother' in the rhesus monkey experiments, creating a human equivalent requires someone who can transcend egocentrism—someone who can think and care from another's perspective."
"Someone like a real mother."
"That's what Yuki must learn from Ryo."
"Of course, we have also assigned her additional tasks moving forward."
Ayanokouji let out a short chuckle of satisfaction, but only for a moment. Then he turned, eyes sharp as a hawk, and asked:
"And what about insurance measures for these 'cloth mothers'?"
The assistant bowed slightly and answered promptly:
"Brainwashing and medication."
"Sometimes both."
With a dismissive nod, Ayanokouji turned and walked away. From the moment he accepted this project from the Naoe faction, he had been mentally prepared for anything. Long before that, he had already served as the faction's hidden blade, engaging in things far dirtier.
Introducing underage girls for favors, bribery, espionage against rival organizations—even semi-criminal violence was nothing unusual.
"Raising babies is effortless. Abandoned children might otherwise die without us. Here, they receive government support and education. It should be considered a good thing."
With such rhetoric, Ayanokouji Atsuomi had outshone his hesitant peers and secured leadership of the White Room project.
As he walked through the corridor, he no longer paid any attention to the rooms filled with test subjects on either side.
Instead, he pondered what kind of gift he should bring when visiting Naoe Jinnosuke that weekend.
-------------------------------------
Yuki curiously glanced again at the lower bunk. This was the first time she had ever shared a room with someone else—just a few dozen centimeters away.
She wasn't particularly bothered that the other person was a boy. In fact, for the fourth and fifth-generation children raised in White Room, the distinction between male and female only existed as a biological difference briefly taught during science class. Beyond that, there was nothing to distinguish them.
Especially now, before any signs of secondary sexual development.
"Hello, my name is Ryo."
A voice of introduction came from below. Only now, after finishing her unpacking and making the bed, did Yuki realize they hadn't exchanged names.
"Hello... I'm Yuki."
Lying on his bed with legs stretched out, Kitagawa Ryo was certain he had never met this girl in any previous simulation or in reality. Even her name was unfamiliar—he had never heard anyone mention it.
Drifting into thought for a moment, Ryo soon heard a timid voice from the upper bunk:
"I think your name is better than mine."
"Hm?"
"Because your name sounds meaningful. Like when the wind touches your skin—that's 'Ryo'."
"Doesn't 'Yuki' have a clear meaning too?"
"I've never seen it."
"The book says it means white, cold, and something that falls from the sky like a flower."
"But I can only understand the first two—white and cold."
"Why?"
"Because the walls in this room are like that. White and cold."
Ryo couldn't help but chuckle softly:
"Then should I call you Wall from now on?"
"...I don't think there's much difference."
"Hey, hey, names aren't something you change so casually."
Startled by the unexpected intensity in Ryo's tone, Yuki pouted and asked:
"Why are names so important?"
"Because names are more important than people think. They're a unique method of identifying individuals."
Ryo spoke earnestly.
"But... even the dogs outside have names."
Yuki was referring to the guard dogs stationed in White Room. To the children, these towering beasts left a strong impression.
"They don't rely on names, but on scent, color, and appearance. If you remove familiar smells, even the closest dog wouldn't recognize its owner."
"Humans have names to distinguish individuals. Even in the dark, even in smoke where scents are erased, we can still recognize each other by calling out names. That's a uniquely human ability, y'know."
There it was again—that infuriating "y'know" lisped at the end.
"Oh."
Ryo wasn't sure if she understood. He sighed subtly. From her behavior so far, the girl newly assigned to his room didn't seem like a spy planted by White Room, but he stayed cautious.
Even if she was just a five-year-old, Ryo remained on alert. That night, even as he lay down to sleep, he forced himself into a shallow sleep state.
About two hours later, Ryo heard rustling.
Silently, he opened one eye and watched as Yuki climbed down from the upper bunk.
She seemed to be going to the bathroom, wobbling off in her slippers. Soon, she returned.
Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she sleepily climbed into the lower bunk—Ryo's bed—and pulled the blanket over herself.
Ryo shook his head helplessly. He crawled out from the bed, bent over, and climbed into the now-empty upper bunk.
Thankfully, the blanket was warm enough.
From now on, he decided, he would sleep up there instead.
With that thought, Ryo drifted off again.
When he awoke, Yuki was still fast asleep, hugging his blanket.
Reflexively, he pulled the covers over her feet. Then, with a weary sigh, he came to a realization:
It seemed like he had one more person.....to take care of.
-------------------------------------
"Starting today, you will undertake a secret assignment."
Faced with the instructor's command, Yuki reflexively replied:
"I'll complete it!"
Even though she had no idea what the task involved, she fully understood the consequences of failure.
Then, she saw a photo in the instructor's hand. It was of Ryo, the boy she had just met yesterday.
Remembering her awkward state that morning and his kind reassurance, Yuki felt a flutter of excitement.
It was the first time she understood what it meant to connect with another person.
"Good."
The instructor pointed at the photo and said calmly:
"Go fall in love with him. As a member of the opposite sex, love him."
"Eh?"
His tone was so matter-of-fact, as if he were simply stating a fact. Yuki couldn't help but respond with a confused gasp.
"Like... love? What do those mean?"
"You don't need to understand."
The instructor glanced down at the notes in his hand. He didn't know psychology and couldn't make sense of the strange experiments and theories written there. He was simply following orders:
"Then... how do I do that?"
In White Room, reasons were unnecessary. Only steps mattered.
"Every morning, thirty minutes before training begins, you will come here alone."
He led her into a small, enclosed room. To Yuki's surprise, the walls, ceiling, and even floor were plastered with photos of Ryo—studying, eating, sleeping...
"For thirty minutes, you will stare at these photos and repeat to yourself, 'I like you.' Do this every day."
"And also before you go to bed."
"...O-Okay."
She didn't understand it, but compared to studying or physical training, this task didn't seem too difficult.
"Besides that, at any free moment, imagine his face. Treat him as the most important person to you."
"Those are the two parts of your current assignment. Begin today."
After giving his instructions, the instructor left.
Yuki began the task.
She picked a photo at her eye level—Ryo staring directly into the camera, likely taken during class from a blackboard camera.
"I li..."
Even though it was just a photo, and even though she didn't know what the words meant, something about saying it made her freeze.
Her cheeks burned, like the feeling she had waking up that morning with his blanket.
"Like... like you."
She slowly got used to it, practicing until she could say it clearly.
"I like you. I like you. I like you."
She tried adding emphasis, murmuring it over and over to herself.
"Time's up."
The half hour passed quickly. It felt like the instructor had only just left. Yuki walked out of the room in a daze.
Her chest felt tight, like she had been running. A strange tingling sensation lingered inside her.
Meanwhile, in the fifth-generation classroom, Kitagawa Ryo sat at his desk, wondering whether to use the critical item that might change everything.
In this simulation, all his talents related to identity and past had been disabled.
But items weren't restricted.
And come to think of it, he had been holding onto this one for quite some time:
[Engagement Contract: One-time use item. Can be used to establish an engagement with any character.]
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
To Read Advanced Chapters, and support this novel, please join me on [email protected]/geats2000