Kaijou's POV
By fifteen, I had already conquered college-level exams. My body matured faster than nature intended, reshaped by science. My mind raced ahead, sharper than the blades they used to cut us open.
The staff whispered about me like I was a miracle. They didn't realize this was what I had been made for.
And so, the Foundation began the Elite Program early.
Forty chosen. Forty Elites. Out of hundreds, only we were left. And from us, only one would rise.
The prize? Freedom.
A meaningless word to most. To us, it was the only reason we kept breathing.
---
Yamada's POV
The surveillance room fell silent when I entered. Screens lit the walls, each one a window into my empire.
"Let the tournament begin," I said, my voice echoing like a verdict. "Let us see who is worthy of intelligence."
The examiner approached, hands shaking. "As requested, Yamada-sama—sixteen exams for each subject."
He passed me the sheet.
98–100: A+
95–97: A
93–94: A–
90–92: B+
…Below 60: F
I let out a quiet whistle. "Accept nothing below ninety. The rest… correct them. Pain has a way of polishing diamonds."
No one objected. They never did.
---
Kaijou's POV
The exam hall swallowed us whole. Forty desks. Forty Elites. The air smelled of ink, sweat, and desperation.
Sixteen exams. Four hours each. Three sections apiece.
Physics. Law. Biology. Medicine. Philosophy. Every page meant to break us.
Time dissolved. My hand cramped, my vision blurred. I pressed on.
And through it all, I felt it—his eyes.
Across the hall, Subject 918.
Sora.
Most lowered their heads to the page. He didn't. He looked directly at me, pen scratching answers without pause, gaze unbroken. It was a silent war. Every question I solved, I could feel his presence pressing against me. Not competing—hunting.
At one point, he mouthed something across the desks. No sound, just lips moving.
"You'll fall."
I clenched my pen until it nearly snapped.
---
Days bled together until the final exam ended. Thirty-eight collapsed in exhaustion. Two remained standing.
Myself. Subject 900.
And him. Subject 918.
Both perfect scores. But by raw marks—I stood ahead.
Still, victory felt hollow with his grin cutting into me.
---
Yamada's POV
"Yamada-sama," the examiner reported, "only two passed. Subject 900 and Subject 918."
I barely blinked. "Good. Reassign the rest accordingly."
The man hesitated. "And the matter of names?"
"Names?" I scoffed. "They mean nothing to me. Let Kaede waste her energy on such sentimentality."
---
Kaijou's POV
They herded us into a smaller chamber. And there she was—Kaede.
She smiled gently, though her eyes betrayed fury.
"Children," she said, "you've endured much. But today, I give you something no one can erase. A name."
One by one, she named them. Some trembled. Some smiled through tears. For a brief moment, they weren't numbers.
When she reached me, she laid her hand on my shoulder.
"Kaijou," she said, her voice steel wrapped in velvet. "Never forget this. You are more than a subject. More than a number."
Her words struck something deep. For a heartbeat, like a light meeting the dark skies.
Kaijou's POV
Not everyone reacted the same way to their names. Some clung to them like lifelines, sobbing into their hands. Others looked numb, already broken.
But two stood out.
Hayami didn't tremble or smile—she just met Kaede's gaze with quiet defiance, as though daring anyone to take the name from her lips. Strength, but not the kind Yamada praised. The kind that refused to bow.
Bakura, on the other hand, scoffed under his breath when Kaede called his name. His jaw tightened, fists curling so hard the veins stood out. Rage lived in him, not reverence.
I watched them closely. In this place, you didn't ignore sparks—you gathered them before they burned out.
Hayami had steel where others had cracks. Bakura had fire where others had fear. Those were ones I needed.
Until I saw him.
Sora.
He smirked as Kaede spoke. Not mocking her—mocking me. His eyes said it clearly: He didn't fear losing his number. He was daring me to lose my name.
---
Later, I gathered Hayami and Bakura. Our plan was forming—unite the Elites, build strength, prepare to escape.
But before I could explain further, a hand clamped my shoulder. Cold.
"Kaijou," came the whisper.
I turned. Sora stood there, calm as ice.
"How's the team coming along?" His tone was too smooth. Calculated.
I didn't flinch. "The same as always."
His grin widened just slightly. "Good. Don't disappoint me."
Then he walked away, leaving silence like a knife in his wake.
Bakura's fists clenched. "He knows."
Hayami scowled. "He's not just smart. He's dangerous. Stronger than almost anyone here."
Her words lingered, heavy as chains.
But I straightened.
"I will not just beat Sora. I will break him, before he breaks me."
Not just for freedom. But because if I didn't… no one would.