Vol 0. Prologue - A Liquid Inspiration

Ayanokouji Kiyotaka

Ever since I opened my eyes, all I could see was the color white.

Truly poetic once it dawned upon me that I was in a facility named the "White Room." From the walls to the doors, and even the ceiling--the first thing I remembered seeing--, they were all white.

Before I showed any interest in staring or playing with my fingertips, I simply wondered what that white ceiling was.

Day after day, I spent more and more time just staring at that ceiling.

At first, I cried. I cried because I missed people, and then I learned that no one was coming to help me.

Now that I look back on it, my response was grounded by instinct, not logic.

This is the first thing that a newborn baby, who cannot even speak, learns when it accepts its environment.

When I was two years old, I first recognized communication as a language between humans. It was with an instructor who simply sought to accomplish what he was tasked to do.

I remember him asking something that I was unable to immediately make sense of:

"Guess where the gummy is, and you can eat it."

The words were empty, not bearing a single hint of emotion to them. The instructor was simply emotionless.

A label that also applies to me, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka.

Now, with that established, I began mulling over the words the instructor said:

What's a gummy?

What does eat mean?

Was that supposed to be an action I already knew, or was it another command altogether?

I was unable to understand what he was talking about, but I simply touched his right hand as I noticed him using the same hand to grab something before he motioned for me to come closer.

Upon doing so, the instructor opened his hands, presenting me with the object that I eventually found to be a "gummy."

Now, where am I going with this thought?

Simple.

All my life, I have been raised in an environment where we were simply focused on fulfilling an objective.

It did not matter if it had any meaning to it or how we would feel about the task.

All that mattered was that we yielded results.

That being said, I have managed to surpass everyone in all fields that we have been taught, may it be academically, physically, psychologically, or even in mundane fields like the culinary arts.

But to this day... I still do not understand if there is an actual meaning to all this.

Deep down, I knew that there was something I lacked... something that would enable me to acknowledge the purpose of my existence.

As I was prepared to drown even more in my thoughts, I heard a knock on my door.

Getting off my bed, I walked toward the door and twisted the handle. The door opened, revealing the figure of someone named Hamada, a worker in this facility.

"Kiyotaka-sama, the Professor requests your presence in his office," Hamada said.

"At this hour?" I replied, glancing at the wall clock in my room.

It was currently 11:00 PM, an abnormal hour to even be engaging in a conversation.

"Y-Yes. I believe it is important, so I implore you to go to his office immediately, Kiyotaka-sama," Hamada said as he bowed before me.

"I see. Thank you, Hamada," I replied before exiting my room and closing its immaculate white door.

Hamada simply nodded and walked away.

A gesture that I have been used to in the fourteen years that I have been in this facility.

Everything is simply a matter of achieving your objective.

It did not take me long to reach the Professor... or should I say, my father's office. As the double doors of the office faced me, I simply knocked to signify that I had arrived.

"Come in, Kiyotaka."

Upon my father's affirmation, I pushed open the doors to his office, and the smell of old leather and aged books wafted through the air.

I scanned the room before my gaze turned to my father, who was already pouring two glasses of whiskey from an old decanter on his desk.

"Sit down, Kiyotaka," he said, gesturing to the comfortable armchair across from him.

I settled into the chair, my curiosity piqued. While I have been in this room before, this is the first time that my father, Ayanokouji Atsuomi, offered me a drink.

Isn't this illegal? If I remember correctly, the legal age to drink in Japan is 20 years old.

I'm still 14.

I hesitantly picked up the glass he offered and chose to simply examine the glass. The liquid inside swirled gently as the glass was lifted, reflecting the light in a mesmerizing pattern.

The color of the whiskey was a deep amber, radiating warmth and depth. The aroma of the whiskey filled the air with notes of oak, vanilla, and a hint of smoke.

How... interesting.

"Why have you called me here, father?" I asked.

"Today is October 20, is it not?" He asked.

Ah, that's right.

Since today is the 20th of October, then it is my 14th birthday.

But I do not feel any significance to this day. It's simply another day where I live my life like how I have done so ever since I had my first memories.

"Indeed it is," I replied.

"Hm. It's been 14 years since I decided to put you, my own flesh and blood, in this facility... and with how you have turned out, I have no regrets over my decision, Kiyotaka," he said as he took a sip of the glass of whiskey that he's been holding.

I decided to be a little impudent as I do not see a reason why we are having this mundane conversation.

"Where exactly are you getting at?"

If this is an attempt to build up a non-existing familial bond, that's not going to yield results. I, for one, know that this man, Ayanokouji Atsuomi, holds no love or any feelings toward me.

All he saw in me was a vehicle that would fulfill his grand ambitions. Nothing more, nothing less.

"I am not here to build a relationship between us, Kiyotaka. Our relationship had already been too far gone to even consider building a healthy one; even I know that. I simply wish for company... one that wouldn't annoy me. You are a convenient outlet for this," he answered.

"I see."

My father looked at me for a couple of seconds before once again taking a sip from his glass.

"Tell me, Kiyotaka, what do you think about the White Room?"

I raised an eyebrow at his strange question.

By now, he should already know how I see this institution. I do not particularly like or dislike this environment, as it was the only environment that I had found myself in. Furthermore, we have been taught to disregard everything unnecessary, so I simply looked at the White Room from an objective perspective.

"The White Room was perhaps the most efficient place in the whole world to raise a human, but somehow, I feel like there is still something missing that would allow me to understand the meaning of achieving what the White Room wishes to achieve," I replied.

As he heard my words, I noticed his eyes grow in interest in what I had just said.

"Something missing, you say?" He asked.

I nodded my head.

"I do not exactly know what that is... but I have been thinking about how, in the grand scheme of things, being at the pinnacle of humanity holds no meaning if I do not intimately understand its significance. I believe it is something that I have yet to learn," I replied.

"That's strange coming from the masterpiece himself. Tell me more about your theory, Kiyotaka," he said.

"In the books that I have read, there was something that drives its protagonists to strive for their goals. A motivation... or perhaps, a feeling of fulfillment to look forward to. Despite being flawed and imperfect, they seem undeterred so long as they manage to achieve this goal. It led me to think that, in the context of the White Room, this certain element is missing."

I then curiously raised the glass and took a small sip, similar to what my father did. As the glass was lifted to the lips, the flavor of the whiskey flooded the senses, starting with a sweet and smoky taste before settling into a smooth warmth that lingered on the tongue.

It was... a strange sensation. I thought it'd be stronger.

"This brings forth a question: What is the point of doing something if I do not see the meaning in what I'm doing?"

"Go on."

"In the same vein, I would like to ask you... what is the meaning of establishing the White Room?"

"To mass produce exceptional people under the perfect environment."

"Then... how do you think we would fare in the outside world? We do not know how the outside world works, nor do we know how to interact properly with people. How are we supposed to take over Japanese society?" I asked.

My father's cold gaze met me for a second before he turned away. He put down the glass he was holding on his table and began to lean back on his chair.

"Products of the White Room would probably not survive in the real world environment," he answered.

"At least... for now," he finished.

"That is true," I said in agreement.

That's why I grew an interest in how education in the outside world works. Given that the White Room functioned in a heavily controlled environment, there should be drastic differences when we compare it to normal educational institutions.

While, indeed, the White Room is the most efficient way of training humans, there are still limitations to what it can do. After all, not everything could be taught in the White Room as it was an institution that threw away anything unnecessary to the extremes.

"Are emotions... truly unnecessary?" I asked.

"Elaborate," he replied.

"When we talk about ruling a country, I have read that ruling based on fear will simply lead to eventual revolts and being evicted from power. While I do think that a certain level of hold on the populace is needed to hold order, I have also noticed a pattern that sentiments such as compassion and approachability is essential to be a ruler that only few would defy. But expressions of compassion cannot be easily faked," I paused as I took another sip of the glass in my hand.

"Since proper leadership would utilize the feelings of desire and fear, shouldn't emotions be necessary to some extent? For example: how do we encourage a sense of ambition in the people we lead? Moving forward listlessly and without motivation beyond completing an objective... seems nonsensical now that I thought of it," I replied.

My father let out an odd chuckle.

"To think you could say things like that with an empty voice. You're quite something, Kiyotaka."

"Am I?"

He nodded.

"I never loved your mother. I simply decided to be with her because she never held any lingering affection toward me as well. That would make it easier to achieve my goal of having an heir without adding another baggage to my life. An heir that I could mold under my guidance... an heir that would allow my goals to be realized."

"Now... the point of this was to tell you that everything that I have done was driven by my ambitions. A feeling that arose from my desire to step out of the mediocre cards that I have been dealt. My rise in politics, the rationale behind the White Room... was simply to challenge fate," he finished.

"I see. Then, would it be fine to ask what drove you to challenge fate?"

He let out a pitiful laugh.

"Love."

"Love?" I repeated.

"Indeed. When I was a young man, I was enamored with a woman... one belonging to the upper echelons of society. Compared to myself back then, our gap might as well be heaven and earth. She had everything: looks, charisma, intelligence, influence... whereas I am simply a normal man. No special talents nor anything that could be of note," he answered.

He downed the entire glass that he drank before grabbing the whiskey bottle and pouring it into the now-empty glass.

"I suppose you should be grateful I chose a beautiful woman to give birth to you, Kiyotaka," he said.

"Ah... thank you?"

"That aside, we were on good terms... even to the point where you could even call us close allies. Day by day, I found myself more attracted to her, more drawn to her aura... to her visions of a greater Japan. I even found myself clinging to the same ambitions."

"I suppose you know this already, Kiyotaka. I was not anything special... but if there were one thing that nobody in this world could match me in, that would be in terms of ambition. That was why I aimed for that woman, that was why I desired to move the nation, that was why you were born, and that was why this entire project existed."

"No matter what, I will rise above everyone. I have lived up until now with that one idea in my heart. That ambition alone was what supported my life... but it was amplified once the realization of my inferiority sunk in. I couldn't get the things I wanted simply because I was not good enough... that we were not equal. It strengthened my already indomitable will," he finished.

I simply stared at him.

"You... may be onto something, Kiyotaka. My feelings... my emotions drove my ambitions to greater heights... to the point that I would even challenge fate itself."

"Interesting," I replied.

"But emotions can also be a factor that would allow you to immediately fail, Kiyotaka. I deemed it unnecessary for students of the White Room to learn because it would negatively affect how you would react to adversity and other threats the outside world could bring," he said.

"Then... perhaps it would be best to strive for a method of effectively cultivating ideal emotions," I replied.

"Hoh? Would that even work for products who already had their heart destroyed by the nature of the White Room?" He challenged.

"Why don't we try?" I countered.

"Elaborate."

"Your story had already implied how your leap to become who you are today was driven by your desire to rise to the very top and challenge fate itself. That... is a mentality that, more often than not, allows a person to succeed. Upon observing myself, I do not hold such feelings within. I do not even know how the outside world actually functions to even know what I actually wish to do with my life. To survive in society would entail that we would be able to blend in with society," I answered.

"I am not even aware of just how superior I am compared to my peers. There is even the possibility that I would simply end up being a tool to be utilized by inferior beings, provided that I do not have goals of my own. Perhaps, that is the one thing you are superior to me at," I added.

"Interesting. You never cease to fascinate me, Kiyotaka. Now, tell me what you really wish to ask."

Hm. It seemed like I could not escape this man's observant gaze, huh?

"Father, teach me everything about human relationships and society."

He stared at me for what seemed like an eternity.

"Hm. Now that you have finished your education, I suppose... this would be the perfect time to mold you into someone that can be integrated into society," he finally answered.

"Tomorrow, we leave. However, I will always be keeping an eye on you, Kiyotaka. That is the compromise for this demand of yours," he replied.

"That is fine by me," I replied.

"Very well. For now, prepare your things, take a rest, and after breakfast tomorrow, we shall depart. Do not disappoint me, Kiyotaka," he said.

"I won't," I said as I stood up from my seat.

This was the start of the newest chapter in the life of Ayanokouji Kiyotaka.

The catalyst that freed me from the shackles that had bound me...

A liquid inspiration.

Before I left the office, my father coughed to get my attention. Curious at the act, given our conversation had just ended, I turned my head back to see him wearing a smirk that did not fit the image I'd held of the man.

"By the way, Kiyotaka... that liquor you drank earlier... it was not whiskey. It's non-alcoholic."

Ah, even till the end, he manages to deceive me.

What a deplorable man.

End of Chapter

A/N: I finally wrote a story with our favorite Kiyopon as the MC!

So for starters, Kiyotaka is starting this story as a 14-year-old. This is so that we get to the point where he has already finished his training in the White Room. Well... I assumed he was 13 because, according to Tsukishiro, Kiyotaka had finished his training about two years before the start of the story, which would be on April 1st, when Kiyo had entered ANHS... where he'd be around 15 and a half years old.

The divergence from canon wouldn't be too severe at the very start. I believe despite the implications that Kiyotaka would be integrated into society for a year and a half, it wouldn't be enough for him to be who he wanted himself to be... but he'll be significantly better than EarlyKouji in terms of how he deals with people.

He would still be sorted in Class D simply because it's what Ayanopapa wanted. He won't be actively moving to expel Kiyo in this timeline because he (by virtue of plot convenience, jk) gambled on siding with Kiyo's desires and wanting to see what he can do when he's placed at the bottom of the barrel.