Due to the arrival of Kitagawa Ryo and Yuki, Suzukake Toya was temporarily released from his usual suspended position. Two burly bodyguards dragged his limp, red-eyed figure over, his mouth still smeared with food.
At first, the Kitagawa family worried he might go on a hunger strike or even try to commit suicide. They'd even considered sustaining him via nutrient injections. But despite being hung upside down in an inverted-pyramid cage, deprived of light and sound, and forced to eat like livestock from a trough, he showed no real intention of starving himself.
He had tried, initially. When he was first thrown into the "Well of Despair," he begged for mercy, demanded a fair trial, called the Kitagawa's actions unlawful torture. Later, he despaired and pleaded for a quick death. He even attempted to starve himself—but never lasted more than two days before eating again.
Suzukake Toya had once extensively studied Harlow's rhesus monkey experiments back in high school. He never imagined he'd end up like one of those monkeys himself.
"Tie him up there and leave us."
Kitagawa Ryo remembered these special restraint straps well—after all, every time he was overdosed in the White Room, they'd bound him the same way.
Although Suzukake now looked utterly powerless, Kitagawa still had the bodyguards tie him up tightly again, just in case.
Once the bodyguards left, Kitagawa turned to Yuki.
"I'll leave too."
His words surprised her. She instinctively reached out to hold his hand—but grasped only air.
"This is something you have to face alone. There are no cameras here, and it's soundproof."
"Whatever you want to say or do, no one will know."
With a small smile, he lifted his hand and waved gently.
"I'll be waiting outside."
Then he stepped out and shut the door with a heavy thud.
That sound must have jolted Suzukake Toya. He'd been sitting motionless like a corpse, but now he finally lifted his head. Years of being suspended had wrecked his circulation—his face was haggard, his eyes veiny and bloodshot. He looked nothing like the authoritative man from the White Room.
And mentally, he seemed unstable—like the monkey in Harlow's final experiment. Squinting at Yuki for a long moment, he suddenly muttered:
"You're the 'cloth mother' from the fourth generation, aren't you? What are you doing here?"
He mumbled on:
"Well, whatever. How's the White Room doing? Must be a success by now, right? I knew my educational philosophy was correct… wait, where's my data? That was my magnum opus, better than Harlow's trials—"
Something in those words must have triggered Yuki. In an instant, fury seemed to erupt from her small body like a blazing fire.
"Shut up already… What do you mean 'cloth mother'?!"
Her voice was so rough and fierce, it was hard to believe it came from Yuki. It sounded more like a snarl than a shout.
"White Room? Rhesus monkey experiments?"
"It's all your fault! Everything! From start to finish—everything, everyone—"
Her words became increasingly disjointed, structure crumbling beneath emotion.
"Me, the others—we were never your experiments!"
She screamed like a storm. Her mind flashed back to the day years ago when she was ordered to move into Kitagawa's room. Something clogged her throat, and her voice trembled with tears:
"Because of your order, I couldn't even understand my own feelings anymore. I didn't even know if I truly liked anyone."
[Being ordered to fall in love with someone she had never met, spending an hour each day in a room plastered with Kitagawa Ryo's photos, saying 'I love you' aloud.]
Feelings fabricated by force—how could anyone accept that?
And yet… she really had fallen for him.
Suzukake, barely coherent, seemed unfazed by her rant. Instead, he found her current expression fascinating.
"You've finally learned to cry? That's great. Tears and smiles may be different, but they serve the same purpose."
Lost in his delusions—or simply avoiding reality—he laughed, pleased by what he saw.
"I picked you because of your smile, you know. I remember it clearly—one lunch in the cafeteria, you looked at your carrots and said 'I don't like this.'"
"None of the other subjects cared about food. They just ate like machines. But you—you were different. I knew you were perfect. Haha."
His laughter turned into a coughing fit. Bound tightly to the chair, he writhed, sputtering. Yet he still gasped out words:
"You and that other child from Generation 5—you both smiled so easily, but neither of you could cry. I always wondered why."
"That boy, Ryo—he was strange too. Even with doses way above tolerance levels for his age, he never cried. Whether it was delayed withdrawal or direct arterial injection, he never cried."
"Smiling and crying are two sides of the same coin. If you can smile, why can't you cry? As a 'cloth mother,' sometimes crying is more effective than smiling."
Finally finished coughing, Suzukake lifted his head and babbled:
"Now that you can cry, you should teach Ryo. After all, your smile came from him, didn't it?"
A heavy fist silenced him.
All White Room children had endured harsh physical and combat training. Even among the fourth generation, Yuki's physical scores ranked near the top.
But from the start, all White Room children had been conditioned to fear the adults—too afraid to ever raise a hand against them, even if they could win.
This was the result of the Little Albert experiment, something Suzukake swore by as a psychologist.
So now, faced with this surreal punch, he could only widen his eyes in disbelief.
His mouth and cheeks were still smeared with leftover food.
Yuki lowered her gaze. Her fist throbbed from the recoil.
Yet the pain was… gratifying.
"Shut up already. Don't ever speak his name again. Don't talk about him."
Children of the White Room—vicious toward their peers, docile as infants before adults.
Another punch crashed into Suzukake's right eye. He howled, but the restraints held him tight. He couldn't move an inch.
All those fighting techniques they were taught? Only ever used against their fellow test subjects. During those sparring sessions, adults like Suzukake watched with glee, like spectators at a Roman coliseum.
Chin, nose, cheek—Yuki targeted everything except vital areas.
As Kitagawa's roommate these past years, she'd seen all his pain.
Now, all the rage, powerlessness, and hatred she had buried exploded forth.
The more sensitive one is, the deeper the pain.
Every day in the White Room had been like swallowing shattered teeth.
But those teeth didn't digest. They gnawed away inside her.
Even if it tore her apart, she couldn't make a sound.
Ryo.
Even now, she refused to put a surname before his name.
When did I fall for you?
Even now, she didn't know the answer.
-------------------------------------
"You beat him up? Good for you."
When Yuki stepped out of the room, Kitagawa Ryo took a glance inside. What he saw was something barely human—Suzukake Toya looked even more wretched than before.
"As long as it doesn't cause you any trouble, Ryo."
Yuki forced a smile. It was only now that she truly understood what Suzukake meant earlier about crying and smiling.
Ever since she had learned how to cry, it felt like even her smiles could now carry a trace of sorrow.
"Not trouble at all. If anything, beating him even harder might've made him grateful—you gave him a bit of release."
Kitagawa responded casually. Behind him, the two bodyguards had already gone in to untie Suzukake and prepare him for some basic medical care before shoving him back into the Well of Despair.
"So? Feel a little better?"
"Maybe. At the very least, I won't shy away from talking about the White Room anymore."
Yuki clenched her fingers but soon relaxed them. After a long breath, she replied with a bit more ease.
She looked freer now—and that was exactly what Kitagawa hoped to see. After all, unlike him, Yuki hadn't been granted multiple Simulation boosts to toughen her mentality. If not handled properly, those days in the White Room could've haunted her for life.
This wasn't about being a child or not—in fact, it was because she was a child that it was all the more worrisome.
Some people spend their childhood healing for life. Others spend their life healing their childhood. That's just how it is.
"Wanna go for a swim? I remember there's a big pool here."
Kitagawa made the suggestion naturally.
The Kitagawa villa was massive. In the backyard sat a spacious indoor pool—heated and open year-round.
Swimming wasn't a random proposal. For both of them, raised in the White Room, one of the rare happy memories was swimming class.
The White Room had dedicated classrooms for various subjects, swimming included. It was a sport well-suited for children—low strain yet effective for physical development.
And the most memorable part: the final thirty minutes of each swim class were reserved for free time.
For the White Room's test subjects—whose daily schedules were packed down to the minute—those thirty minutes were a treasured rarity.
Even though Yuki and Kitagawa weren't from the same batch and had never attended the same class, they instinctively understood each other's thoughts.
"Sure."
Yuki agreed almost immediately, then added:
"I used to be the fastest swimmer in fourth generation."
Though after that, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka took over.
But Kitagawa wasn't about to bring up that buzzkill. He just smiled.
"I don't plan on racing you. Today's just for relaxing."
"This isn't the White Room—we don't have to compete over everything."
"Then I'll do as Ryo says."
Yuki answered cheerfully and followed the maid to the changing room. Before leaving, she turned and waved:
"See you at the pool."
"Yeah."
Kitagawa nodded and headed to the men's changing room. Along the way, he casually asked the nearby guard:
"Where's Arisu? Haven't seen her since earlier."
"Arisu-sama passed by about thirty minutes ago. When she saw the pool, she said she wanted to learn swimming in advance so she could invite you to the beach this summer. She should already be in the pool by now."
The bodyguard answered respectfully.
"…That's nice."
Kitagawa muttered.
He never imagined he'd one day see Sakayanagi Arisu swimming. Just the thought of it brings a wave of emotion.
But this wasn't the time to get sentimental.
He quickly changed into swim trunks and hurried toward the pool.
Rounding a corner, a wide swimming pool came into view—and just as he feared, the situation had already begun.
"Bleh bleh bleh bleh—!"
Yuki, already far ahead of Sakayanagi Arisu, was gliding through the water with remarkable speed and switching strokes fluidly. Before long, she left Arisu behind in a trail of splashing water.
Kitagawa stood at the poolside and let out a helpless sigh.
This… was the real value of White Room training (a.k.a. the gym of hell).
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