Though less than a month had passed, the White Room somehow appeared even whiter than before.
This wasn't just a psychological impression—it was a visual fact. As Kitagawa Ryo looked upon it, he could see that the exterior of the White Room, nestled deep in the mountains, had been thoroughly renovated. Even the marks left by time on the walls had been covered with clean, bright white paint. The blemishes had simply been painted over.
What truly left Ryo speechless was the newly installed sign at the entrance: [WhiteRoom]. Four guards stood under the gleaming sign, each holding a police dog on a leash, as if ready to be caught on some hidden surveillance camera.
"A reporter followed us," whispered the assistant from the front passenger seat into Ayanokouji Atsuomi's ear.
"Mm," Atsuomi responded calmly, without surprise. After all, this "accident" had been prearranged. Without it, the reporter wouldn't have even been able to set foot on the mountain.
After Ryo had laid the groundwork by publicizing the White Room, Atsuomi threw himself into redecorating it. If mystery was what people craved, then why not add to the mystique?
Going through what looked like a serious security screening, Ryo and Atsuomi entered the facility. Not far away, under a tree, the tabloid reporter—deliberately let through—was trembling with excitement as he snapped distant photos.
He was certain those images would make tonight and tomorrow's headlines.
"The White Room… It's just as the name suggests. Everything is white," the reporter whispered as he kept clicking away from different angles.
"Looks like you used a ton of bleach," Ryo muttered after stepping inside. Even the once dull colors had been replaced with bright hues. The children receiving education inside were now wearing colorful clothes instead of their previous prison-like white smocks.
The once-bare walls had been adorned with minimal decorations, giving the space a more classroom-like feel.
"Isn't this what you wanted?" Atsuomi sneered, glancing at Ryo.
"In the past, the White Room couldn't even be bothered to keep up appearances."
"It's not what I wanted," Ryo replied, shaking his head. "It's what you wanted."
To him, the children had simply gone from being white puppets to colorful puppets. The change was only superficial—like how instructors were now called "teachers."
"This is why you don't seem like a child who grew up here," Atsuomi said coldly. As the man who led the White Room project, he believed he understood it better than anyone. Yet Ryo emitted no aura of belonging to this place; he was a true anomaly.
Atsuomi, who had risen from nothing, loathed the so-called "innate geniuses"—those who coasted on family background. In his eyes, even someone like Sakayanagi Arisu would've been a sickly burden if she had shared his origins.
Noticing the subtle hostility in Atsuomi's tone, Ryo merely smiled.
"You, of all people, should know best whether I grew up in the White Room."
If his past memories had been vague impressions, then the experience during this simulation had solidified his loathing for this place.
Ryo had never interacted with Atsuomi directly before, but now he understood why Ayanokouji Kiyotaka had always tried to escape from the White Room in other simulations—to enter Advanced Nurturing High School instead.
Though both systems touted merit-based competition, being expelled from the school didn't equate to a ruined life. But every child brought into the White Room, even someone like Kiyotaka—the so-called "success case"—had already had their life destroyed.
Far from the pristine implication of its name, the White Room was a cesspool under Atsuomi's command. Ethically and morally, it was indefensible, which was why Naoe Jinnosuke had long since shifted all responsibility onto Atsuomi.
"These questions are meaningless," Atsuomi said flatly. "Anyway, welcome back to the White Room."
Shrugging to avoid further argument, he changed the subject. "Now that we've established cooperation, let me show my sincerity. Honestly, you should be grateful. In another two days, we were planning to solemnly announce your death to the Fifth Generation students."
As he walked, Atsuomi tucked his hands into his sleeves and began explaining what had happened in Ryo's absence.
"Due to your prior illness, we told them you were sent outside for better treatment. We also hinted that your condition might worsen. It was our assistant's idea—to give them time to process it."
"At first, I didn't want to be that gentle, but I let a certain someone leak a little information. Turns out, you were more important than I thought."
"If she didn't still have a role to play with the Fourth Generation, she would've been eliminated by now."
With a wry smile, Atsuomi looked down at Ryo. "In some ways, this is your fault, isn't it?"
Though he hadn't named anyone, Ryo easily guessed who he was referring to.
Compared to the strong-willed Ichika, the one who suffered most from his departure would be Yuki. In her mind, all the pain Ryo endured was her fault. Shaped by the White Room's constant brainwashing, she had developed a deeply pathological mindset.
Ichinose Honami once locked herself in her room for months simply because her mother kneeled to apologize on her behalf. What more could be said of Yuki, who had repeatedly witnessed Ryo being tortured in her presence before disappearing without a trace?
To her, the world was only what she saw within this prison.
"I'm not a bad girl! I didn't do anything wrong! I'll do my best, so please don't punish anyone!"
"If someone must be punished, then punish me! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"
To Ryo's surprise, the first place Atsuomi brought him was the surveillance room. On-screen was Yuki, curled in the lower bunk of her room.
"That was her reaction in the first few days after you left," Atsuomi explained casually.
"At that time, she still didn't know you were gone."
"This was her reaction after we told her."
He spoke as if picking fruit at a market.
"What did I do..."
Ryo could feel the sorrow deepening, even through a screen.
"It's all because of me... he's gone."
Clutching her blanket tightly, her soft voice trembled.
"Because of my fault... Ryo disappeared... It's all my fault."
"I killed him."
Her tone was frighteningly calm—as if she were just a husk of a person.
"Her academic performance plummeted, she began spacing out constantly, and worst of all, she lost her ability to love or smile," Atsuomi said.
"Since the Sixth Generation, we've never had subjects like you and her again. That's why we kept her."
"Where is Yuki now?"
"Still in your old room. You can see her whenever. She's no longer under restriction."
"The other person too."
Atsuomi turned back, locking eyes with Ryo.
"I know your goal in returning to the White Room. I know why you brought up those two names. One of them must remain here."
"As long as you accept that, go ahead—promote the White Room, compete, do whatever it takes to raise our reputation."
Ignoring the veiled threat, Ryo walked out without hesitation, his fluid motion making it unclear whether he had even heard Atsuomi.
"Ayanokouji-sensei..."
The assistant looked displeased by Ryo's arrogant departure.
"Let him go," Atsuomi waved it off. He didn't mind Ryo's attitude. The more Ryo cared, the more leverage the White Room held.
Opening his phone, he saw the newly trending article:
[White Room—It Really Exists?! Secret Info Uncovered for the First Time!]
Just as predicted, the sight of armed guards, trained dogs, and the isolated mountain facility had ignited public curiosity. Interest in the White Room surged.
"Get the press conference ready."
It was finally time for Atsuomi to officially enter the stage.
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"...Yuki."
Stepping into the long-lost yet familiar room, Kitagawa Ryo called her name in the gentlest voice he could manage.
"Sorry I came late."
The instant their eyes met, the girl—who had nearly lost all awareness of the outside world—sensed Ryo's presence.
For the first time in a long while, her face regained a trace of life.
"Ryo?"
"Yeah, it's me. Ryo."
"I'm right here."
"Right in front of you."
Using their names to reaffirm each other's identity, Ryo reached out and, through the blanket, pulled Yuki into his arms.
This gesture echoed the moment they first met—a sacred ritual of sorts, effortlessly drawing Yuki's consciousness back from the distant abyss.
"Ryo, where did you... no, it doesn't matter. That doesn't matter anymore."
She couldn't bring herself to question or blame him. She had returned to being the Yuki who cared deeply for others.
"It's enough that you're here."
She clung to Ryo's embrace as if she wanted to drown in it.
"Tomorrow, come with me. Let's go outside, okay?"
"Outside...?"
Yuki's violet eyes showed confusion, as if she couldn't comprehend those two words.
"Yes. Outside."
With his warmth soothing her icy body, Ryo repeated:
"Let me take you to see the meaning of your name."
By late November, Tokyo was about to see its first snowfall.
From the sky, there would never fall cold, lifeless white bricks like those of the White Room. Only soft, beautiful white petals—called snow—would drift down like little spirits.
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"The forecast says it'll snow tomorrow. You should wear something thicker, Arisu."
Sakayanagi Narimori was picking out clothes for his daughter. Sakayanagi Arisu casually replied while watching the news on TV.
Without explicitly saying it, both sides had reached an understanding, and Ayanokouji Atsuomi soon held a press conference, practically confirming the real existence of the White Room.
Of course, he also addressed the hottest topic of the moment: the rivalry between Advanced Nurturing High and the White Room.
"Ryo is indeed one of the most outstanding students the White Room has ever produced. I'm sure the genius daughter of the Chairman of Advanced Nurturing High knows that better than anyone."
"After all, back then, Ryo was ranked above her."
This provocative statement sent the press into a frenzy.
Narimori responded immediately on social media, claiming that students trained by the White Room were merely test-taking specialists, lacking the well-rounded development emphasized by the Advanced Nurturing system.
After several rounds of verbal sparring, the long-awaited rematch between Kitagawa Ryo and Sakayanagi Arisu was officially confirmed.
Listening to the reporters mention Ryo's name, Arisu seemed momentarily dazed.
"Ryo... I wonder what he's doing right now."
A sense of anxious anticipation surged in her chest. Even she couldn't tell whether she was looking forward to tomorrow's battle or to simply seeing him again.
Snowflakes began to fall gently from the sky.
Winter had returned once more.
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