Perhaps it was the long-standing restriction from going near the sea due to her inability to swim, but ever since her recovery, Sakayanagi Arisu had been planning to learn. In her view, genius shouldn't be confined to intelligence alone—physical abilities were just as important.
Many schools were reluctant to admit children with congenital physical defects, fearing accidents during school activities. Arisu had experienced this herself—she had never been allowed to participate in gym classes or outdoor activities.
But now, things were different.
Feeling cheerful, Arisu imagined the day she'd finally master swimming. Unlike the winter sea she and Kitagawa Ryo had once seen, the idea of the summer ocean stirred in her a longing to dive headfirst into the sparkling blue waves. She had read countless depictions of joyful summer beach scenes in books—friends playfully splashing each other, laughter echoing under the sun.
Wearing a child-sized swimsuit prepared by the Kitagawa family's housekeeper, Arisu arrived at the spacious indoor pool. She dipped a foot cautiously into the water—it was pleasantly warm, not too cold.
After doing some stretches, she sat by the edge, letting her legs dangle in the water. Supporting her chin with one hand, her expression turned a bit hazy.
That phrase still echoed in her mind: ["Would you consider an engagement with my daughter?"]
She recalled her reaction vividly. It was as though the words had nailed her in place, her thoughts—like a sponge soaked with water—were instantly squeezed dry by an unseen force. Her mind blanked, like a seashell stranded on the shore after the tide recedes.
The thought that had surfaced back then now made her uneasy. She couldn't help but recall Chabashira Sae from Tokyo Metropolitan Advanced Nurturing High School—the same woman she once mocked for becoming lovestruck and irrational after falling in love. Yet now, she feared discovering a similar desire growing within herself.
She stopped that line of thought and tried recalling beginner swimming lessons. Slowly, she lowered herself fully into the water.
As a complete novice, Arisu's entry wasn't graceful—more like a dumpling dropped into broth. But unlike a bath, being submerged here allowed her to stretch her limbs and move freely. The pool had a shallow depth, tailored for someone around Ryo's age—making it friendly for Arisu too.
To her surprise, she seemed to have a knack for swimming. Perhaps due to her maturity and body control, it didn't take long for her to attempt a slow lap across the pool.
Kitagawa Ryo had gone with Yuki to meet Suzukake Tōya, and Arisu tactfully didn't follow.
That was their past to confront. Like Ryo had once said—past pages must eventually be turned. She understood. Knowing his past was enough; she didn't need to dig further.
Just as she was focusing on coordinating her arms and legs, a voice called out from the other side of the pool:
"For a beginner, your form is pretty solid. But your breathing rhythm's off. Fix that, and you'll swim even better."
Arisu looked up and saw Yuki doing some light stretches poolside. Wearing a matching child-style swimsuit, she smiled and added:
"Ryo told me—your health issues kept you from sports before, right? But you're doing better than I expected."
With that, Yuki slipped into the water. Unlike Arisu, her movements were fluid and precise—within seconds, she was by Arisu's side.
"Haven't swum in a long time," she said, brushing her wet hair back. "And this is my first time wearing this kind of swimsuit—it feels fun."
"At White Room, we only had standard school swimsuits."
Following Yuki's comment, Arisu looked down at their suits again. Both wore pastel pink-and-white child swimsuits, designed with skirt-like bottoms—much cuter than the dark school-issued ones.
"You're really good at swimming," Arisu couldn't help but say.
"Of course! I ranked top for several weeks at White Room."
"Then... can you teach me—"
"Catch up to me first, then I'll teach you!"
Before Arisu could finish, Yuki playfully pressed a finger to her lips, winked, and darted away with a laugh:
"Bleh bleh bleh bleh—"
That was the scene Kitagawa Ryo stumbled upon as he arrived at the pool.
Impressed by White Room's intense child-training regimen, Ryo gracefully entered the water. Compared to the girls' swimsuits, his plain swim trunks were minimal. No longer the frail frame from when he left White Room, he now looked at least average—still slim, but not unhealthy. Maybe that's why he had so many devoted fans.
Matsushita Chiaki probably had a lot to say about that.
"Arisu, what brings you here by yourself?"
He quickly swam to her, ran a hand through his wet hair, and asked with a grin.
"Practicing... swimming," Arisu replied carefully, flustered by their face-to-face closeness in the water. It felt strangely intimate—almost embarrassing. She was used to sitting in chairs, holding a cane, or speaking over a chessboard. Talking like this was entirely new.
"That swimsuit suits you," Ryo complimented casually. Beneath the water, only the blurry outline of her pink-and-white outfit could be seen.
But Arisu took it seriously. She nodded with rare sincerity:
"I'm glad."
Neither asked the other for swimming lessons, silently avoiding the topic with mutual understanding.
The three of them swam in silence for another half hour before climbing out of the pool using the side ladder. Grabbing the towels prepared earlier, Ryo finally got a good look at the girls' swimsuits. All his earlier compliments now had context—they were indeed adorable.
Especially Arisu's—it was his first time seeing her in something like this. But he only glanced a couple of times. After all, they were just eight or nine-year-old girls. He'd seen Ichinose Honami's swimsuit back at Advanced Nurturing High School, so he was no stranger to these things.
Feeling unusually relaxed, Ryo lay back on a lounge chair. Though not quite the beach, the atmosphere was close enough. His nerves eased, and he drifted toward sleep.
The White Room was behind them, and many fates had already changed.
He had no intention of meeting Ayanokouji Kiyotaka. Ryo had always been curious whether Ayanokouji's personality was innate or shaped by White Room. But after the simulation, even Ryo couldn't decide.
Maybe Suzukake Tōya was right—Kiyotaka was a singular mutation born from White Room's twisted methods. A unique product. The closest anyone had come to its ideal.
But that had nothing to do with Ryo now. He didn't care about Ayanokouji Kiyotaka's ultimate outcome in this simulation. At first, Tsukishiro Tokinari had planned to return him to his mother, only to realize that bond had long been severed. Left with no choice, Kiyotaka was placed in an orphanage.
According to Tsukishiro, even there, Kiyotaka remained intensely curious and disciplined—mimicking the routines of White Room.
"Like an alien sent to study our world," Tsukishiro joked once, "desperate to consume every scrap of knowledge."
What lingered in Ryo's mind, though, was a message Kiyotaka had sent through Tsukishiro before being sent away:
["Finally, someone defeated that man."]
Perhaps it hinted at something deeper in Kiyotaka's heart.
But Ryo had no more energy for such thoughts.
In hindsight, he had completed everything he set out to do in this simulation:
Changing Sakayanagi Arisu's fate, uncovering White Room's secrets, investigating Ayanokouji Atsuomi, and rescuing everyone trapped inside.
Shielding his eyes with one arm, Kitagawa Ryo slowly drifted into sleep.
A nearby butler rushed forward with a heated blanket, only for Arisu and Yuki to snatch it up faster.
Neither wanted to let go. Without speaking, they locked eyes, each gripping a side of the blanket like two bristling kittens.
After a two-minute silent standoff, they reluctantly cooperated—spreading the blanket over Ryo together.
Arisu gently moved Ryo's arm from his eyes. She immediately noticed the needle marks on his skin—faint scars yet to fade. A year wasn't enough to erase everything.
But there were still many years ahead.
Children would grow. New teeth would replace the old. Days would fly faster. Seven years might be a lifetime to a seven-year-old—but for a fourteen-year-old, it becomes fond childhood memories. And for a twenty-one-year-old, it's just a flickering shadow glimpsed in a dream.
She would stay by his side.
They both would.
-------------------------------------
Destroying a person is simple—just make them believe, and then crush what they believe in.
Ayanokouji Atsuomi had long understood this. Perhaps it was when he stepped into the political world—or even earlier.
Most people at the top came from privilege—the second and third generations of powerful families. To Atsuomi, the clueless and carefree sons of high-ranking politicians were like flat soda: dull, unimpressive, and yet constantly making bold statements on TV under the shelter of their parents.
Some even transitioned from showbiz to politics, relying on their looks and fame. Most of them were nothing more than pandas on display to attract attention.
The irony? Even so, they had more opportunities to advance than someone like Atsuomi, who had climbed up from nothing.
He often recalled his childhood while hosting parties in the grand banquet hall of a 50-story luxury hotel. Back then, he lived in a shack used to store farming tools. The roof was made of tin. There was no electricity, no gas. Bathing meant heating water on a stove and pouring it into a wooden tub. Once or twice a week, at most.
He had climbed from that flat, barren world to the 50th floor. And he'd paid everything to get there.
He joined the Naoe faction at age 27, pouring 17 years of his life into it. From doing dirty grunt work to initiating the White Room project.
Ironically, when the White Room began, Naoe Jinnosuke forbade Atsuomi from using the faction's name. The initial funding came entirely from Atsuomi's personal savings.
He had imagined countless scenarios of the White Room's failure. But back then, he believed he'd be able to get back up again—just like after his first failed election.
But—
"The new prime ministerial race has begun. On the first day of polling and support ratings, Diet member Kijima of the Citizen's Party holds a clear lead. Known for his focus on public welfare and education, Kijima was also the original proposer behind the much-discussed Tokyo Metropolitan Advanced Nurturing High School..."
The TV—installed in Atsuomi's room on purpose—played the latest news broadcast:
"Naoe Shun has officially succeeded Ayanokouji Atsuomi as the new director of the White Room. In yesterday's press conference, Diet member Naoe confirmed his new appointment, with Diet member Kijima in attendance. Kijima expressed interest in strengthening cooperation between the White Room and Advanced Nurturing High School, aiming to create a new educational era..."
"As for why Ayanokouji Atsuomi stepped down, Naoe also responded—he revealed that a recent government investigation uncovered large-scale corruption in Atsuomi's management of the White Room. The party has launched an internal inquiry, and Atsuomi has temporarily resigned."
Atsuomi couldn't turn off the TV—because they never gave him the remote.
He simply stood there, watching the middle-aged man on the screen, speaking with a voice resembling a flat soda.
That man was Naoe Jinnosuke's biological son.
Corruption.
The word pierced his ears.
Atsuomi suddenly remembered the day he withdrew all the savings from his three bankbooks to fund the White Room.
That was over a decade ago.
He suddenly felt all strength leave his body. Staggering, he slumped into the chair behind him. His eyes no longer saw anyone. It was as if his vision had drifted beyond everything—gazing into a distant, empty void.
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