"Are we equal?"
It's a question humanity loves to ponder, even though the answer has always been clear. Equality is a fantasy, a soothing myth we tell ourselves to mask the harshness of reality. From the moment we're born, differences shape our paths. Some enter this world in comfort, with wealth and status to shield them from adversity. Others are thrust into hardship, where every step is a struggle. We like to pretend that effort alone can bridge that gap, but deep down, everyone knows it isn't true.
Look closely, and you'll see the inequality embedded in every aspect of life. Intelligence, appearance, talent none of these are distributed equally. We may try to ignore it, or worse, believe that hard work alone can overcome these natural disparities. But how do you tell someone who's been dealt a poor hand from birth that they can be the same as someone who's been given every advantage?
And it's not just about resources or opportunities. Even within the human spirit, there's a hierarchy. Some are driven, relentless in their pursuit of success. Others lack ambition, content to drift aimlessly. Society likes to label these differences as personal choice, but how much of it is truly under our control?
True equality would mean erasing everything that makes us different. It would mean denying ambition, suppressing talent, and pretending that everyone can reach the same heights. But that's not how the world works. Humanity thrives on competition, on striving to be better than the person next to you. Without that, there's no progress, no growth just stagnation.
No, we are not equal. We never have been, and we never will be. To believe otherwise is to blind yourself to the truth. In this world, some are born to lead, and others to follow. Some rise through their own willpower, others through luck or manipulation. And in a system where the strong prevail, the only way forward is to understand your position, embrace the differences, and then exploit them to rise above. Equality isn't the goal it's simply the veil that keeps the masses compliant.
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The soft hum of morning traffic filled the air as I stood at the bus station, watching the city slowly come to life. People moved with purpose, some more hurried than others, their expressions a blend of weariness and routine. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the pavement. It was peaceful in its own way, though I knew that peace was merely a façade.
I shifted my weight slightly, hands in my pockets, scanning the crowd without much thought. A man in a business suit tapped impatiently on his phone. A group of teenagers huddled together, their laughter occasionally breaking the quiet. Nearby, a mother adjusted the straps of her child's backpack, her voice gentle but firm. Just another typical morning, filled with people who likely wouldn't remember each other's faces by the end of the day.
Then, from the corner of my eye, I noticed her. A girl, running full speed down the sidewalk, her strawberry blonde hair flowing behind her like a banner in the wind. She was quick, her strides long and purposeful, as though missing the bus wasn't an option. Her expression was a mix of urgency and mild frustration focused, but not panicked.
She was...cute. Her face had a certain softness, framed perfectly by her tousled hair. Even in her hurried state, there was something about her presence that was hard to ignore. She had a natural energy, the kind that seemed to draw attention without effort.
The bus finally arrived, its brakes hissing as it pulled to a stop. The doors slid open with a mechanical groan, and I stepped on first. My eyes flicked around the interior, taking in the rows of seats. Almost all of them were occupied, save for one toward the back. A single spot remained next to a girl with jet black hair.
She sat with perfect posture, her legs crossed and her hands resting delicately on a book. The title caught my eye Crime and Punishment. She appeared deeply engrossed, her dark eyes moving steadily across the pages, her expression calm and composed. There was an elegance to her, a quiet beauty that seemed almost untouchable. She didn't try to stand out, but her presence alone made it impossible not to notice her.
I approached the seat and paused beside her. "Is this seat taken?" I asked, my voice even.
She looked up from her book, her gaze meeting mine briefly. Her eyes were sharp, observant, but devoid of any real emotion. She didn't speak. Instead, she gave a small nod, her lips pressing into a faint line, almost as if granting me a favor. There was a slight edge to her expression, a hint of reluctance, but she didn't protest.
I took the seat, sliding in without a word, leaving enough space to avoid intruding. She returned to her book immediately, as though I were already forgotten. I leaned slightly against the window, my gaze drifting outside as the bus began to fill.
Moments later, the strawberry blonde girl climbed aboard, breathing lightly from her sprint. Her eyes swept the bus, quickly realizing that all the seats were taken. She let out a small sigh, not of frustration but resignation, and made her way to the standing area near the front. Gripping one of the overhead handles, she steadied herself as the bus jolted forward.
She stood tall, her earlier urgency now replaced by quiet composure. A faint blush lingered on her cheeks, likely from the run, adding a subtle warmth to her otherwise calm demeanor. Despite the crowded bus, she seemed unbothered, her gaze distant as she watched the city pass by.
The bus rumbled along, its engine humming steadily. Conversations buzzed around me in low murmurs, punctuated by the occasional laugh or the rustling of newspapers. I glanced briefly at the black-haired girl beside me. She hadn't moved, her focus entirely on her book, the pages turning with a quiet precision.
I turned my attention back to the window. The world outside blurred into a mosaic of buildings and streets, each scene passing as quickly as it appeared. Another day was beginning, and while it seemed ordinary on the surface, I knew better. Even the smallest encounters, the most mundane moments, have a way of unraveling into something far more significant.
I leaned back against the cold glass of the bus window, watching the city blur past in streaks of gray and blue. The rhythmic hum of the bus was almost hypnotic, and my thoughts began to drift, moving away from the present and into the uncertain future.
In just three years, everything would change. The thought lingered in my mind, a constant reminder of the ticking clock. I would graduate from this school, leave the constraints of the system, and, in the process, decide what kind of future I would create for myself. Three years—a mere blip in the grand scheme of things, but it was a significant one. What would happen in that time? It was hard to predict with certainty, but one thing was clear: I would have the power to decide my own path.
But I knew one thing for certain my freedom would be mine to control. No one else would have a say in it. Not the teachers, not the administration, and certainly not him. That man, the one whose shadow looms over everything I do, the one who thinks he understands me. His influence is nothing more than a passing storm something I'll weather, then leave behind. No one will hold the reins on my life. Not even him.
The bus jolted slightly, breaking my train of thought. I glanced around, my eyes briefly catching the scene unfolding near the front. An office lady was standing near the aisle, her voice sharp and insistent. She was arguing with a woman who refused to give up her seat to an elderly lady who had just boarded. The woman with the seat, blonde hair gleaming under the bus lights, seemed completely unbothered, her expression one of mild annoyance, as if she didn't see what the fuss was about.
I couldn't care less. It wasn't my problem. I wasn't going to get involved in some petty dispute. It was just another insignificant moment in a world full of them. Let bygones be bygones, I thought. The bus would continue on its route, and the incident would be forgotten in minutes, just like everything else.
I pulled out my phone, checking the screen for any updates. The usual barrage of notifications most of them meaningless scrolled past, but I didn't bother to engage with any of them. Instead, I pulled up the message from the school, the one about the ANHS program. They'd sent out the new phones with instructions to use them for various purposes keeping track of assignments, staying connected, and, of course, to better immerse us in the technological experience they were so keen to foster.
Quite the school, I mused, scrolling through the features. It was just another way to control us, another tool in the school's arsenal to monitor our actions, but it didn't matter. I'd use it how I saw fit, just like everything else.
I set the phone aside and pulled out my earbuds, ignoring the rest of the world around me. Music. That was all I needed to block out the noise. I put in the earbuds and selected a song. "Idol" a track that had exploded in popularity after the anime Oshi no Ko had aired. I wasn't a fan of the show, especially after Ai's death it had spiraled into something absurd, something that no longer held my interest. But the song itself? It was something else. The rhythm, the lyrics, the overwhelming feeling of the music it had an energy that was undeniable, captivating.
As the familiar melody filled my ears, I allowed myself to zone out, to tune everything else out. The arguments, the commotion, the crowded bus it all faded into the background. Nothing mattered now. This was my space, my moment of clarity.
The bus rolled forward, the city scape passing by in smooth, unhurried waves. I could feel the gentle pull of the music, the rhythm of "Idol" still flowing in my ears, filling the space around me with its calming energy. The soft hum of the bus seemed to fade, and for a moment, I felt weightless detached from everything that usually anchored me. The city was a blur of colors, buildings, and streets, but it all felt peaceful. The scenery changed, slowly, as if the world was drifting with me, the movement steady and relaxed.
I closed my eyes slightly, letting the music take over, the freedom it brought me sinking in deeper. This was something I hadn't experienced in a long time a sense of peace. No one was watching me, no expectations were being placed on me, and for once, I didn't feel the weight of others' goals pushing me in one direction or another. I was here. I was free.
But then, that thought led to another.
The White Room.
What a failure it was. How could they have ever expected someone to evolve in that place? It wasn't even a matter of the constraints it was the lack of real interaction with the world. The absence of connection with other people. How could anyone grow when they were locked away from society, from the human experience? The knowledge they imparted was vast, sure, but it wasn't life. The knowledge, the skills, they were like weapons without a purpose. They could be honed, sharpened, but if you never stepped into the real world, if you never faced the reality of human emotions, relationships, and unpredictability, what was it all worth?
The White Room was a controlled environment, but it lacked true evolution. It was an environment where the best and the worst could coexist, but the absence of genuine human experience made it all hollow, devoid of meaning. It's funny, really. A place designed to make people stronger, yet it crippled them in ways they could never see, trapped inside a system that was just as flawed as its creators.
I could hear the bus slowing, the tires gently grinding against the road. My thoughts shifted back to the present as the vehicle came to a stop. We'd reached the school.
I took out my earbuds, the music fading as I pulled myself from the calm of my own thoughts. The bus doors hissed open, and I stepped out into the crisp air. A rush of cool wind swept over me, tousling my hair slightly as I looked around. The air was fresh, the kind of breeze that seemed to cleanse the senses, leaving everything sharper, clearer.
I watched as the black haired girl stepped off the bus first, walking with a quiet grace, her book still clutched in her hands. She didn't seem to notice me, or maybe she didn't care. Regardless, I felt no need to engage. The moment was fleeting, like everything else on this bus ride, a small blip on the radar of life.
I pulled my phone from my pocket, the cool metal of the device cold against my skin. I shut it off and slipped it back into my pocket, focusing instead on the world in front of me. The school was in view now, standing tall, with its clean, imposing structure. The sight of it was... different. Different from what I had expected, and yet, somehow fitting. The cherry blossoms were in full bloom, their delicate pink petals swirling gently in the breeze, creating a scene that felt almost too perfect.
It was beautiful, but I couldn't let myself get distracted by that. I had bigger things ahead of me. This was just another stop on my journey, another part of the game.
I walked up the stairs, feeling the slight resistance of the cool wind pushing against me as I moved forward. My footsteps echoed lightly on the steps, the sound a steady reminder that everything here was new, unfamiliar, but not impossible. I was here for a reason, and now, I would see what this school had in store for me.
I pushed open the doors and entered the building. Inside, the world was just as quiet and methodical as I expected, and yet, a sense of anticipation lingered in the air. The doors closed behind me, and the weight of the decision, of the next step in my life, settled over me like a cloak.
This was just the beginning.