Where Talent Went To School
Picture Perfect
As my alarm clock rang, I woke up and went about my morning routine, but had to stop myself when the time came for me to get dressed. This time, instead of putting on my old high school's uniform, I had to wear the girls' uniform of my new one, since I'd been issued my uniform the previous day. The two uniforms were remarkably similar, and the process of buttoning up my shirt, tucking it into my skirt, tying my necktie and putting on my blazer was a familiar routine for me.
As I looked myself over, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride- regardless of why I was chosen or whether I deserved it, I was now officially a student of the thirty-third class of Talent High School, one of Japan's most prestigious and exclusive schools. It had been months since my interview and formal acceptance, and several days since I'd first arrived on campus, but now, I finally looked like a Talent High School student.
My name is Kaori Miura, and I'm known as the Ultimate Beginner's Luck. By now, you may have heard about my time in the Talent High School killing school life, but I wonder if you've heard about my days as a student at the school. For a year, I was a student at Talent High School who did everything young people often do in high school- attending classes, making friends and falling in love- unaware of the omens of disaster until it was too late for anyone to stop them.
There were many times during the killing game when I, bereft of my memories, wondered how things might be different if I had my memories. Would I think of my fellow classmates differently? Might I have been aware of some clue to determining the mastermind's identity? Had I known how and why the school had been sealed? The answers to these questions eluded me, but maybe other insights could be gleaned from my memories of my school days.
After getting dressed, I went to the dining hall. I walked at a leisurely pace, knowing that it wasn't far away. My parents had made sure to teach me the value of leaving enough time for one's morning routine, so I'd never ended up having to dash to school, possibly with a piece of toast in my mouth.
When I arrived, some of my classmates were there already, having already sat down to eat. I'd spoken to most of them at least a few times, at least the ones who were willing to talk with me, and had learned a little about each of them, even if we weren't quite friends yet. Of course, some of us had already started to befriend each other, while others remained lone wolves.
I saw Reiko Mitamura, the Ultimate Proofreader, helping Momo Iwasawa, the Ultimate Farm Hand, with her necktie. Iwasawa-san wasn't necessarily a sloppy dresser, but she was more used to the simple and practical outfit of a button down shirt and overalls that she wore on the farm, and to the one-room schoolhouse where she'd went to school before coming here.
"Thank you very much, Miss Mita- I mean, Mitamura-san," Iwasawa-san said. "I'll try to learn it as quickly as possible."
"I am sure you will learn how very soon," Mitamura-san said, "since the school expects you to wear it every day, and you will have no shortage of practice. Until you do, however, I will be more than happy to help you."
"I'll let you know if I need help," Iwasawa-san said. "Did you have to wear a uniform like this, too?"
"Not exactly," Mitamura-san said, "since as you may recall, I wore a sailor fuku with a red neckerchief at the academy I attended. Still, I was expected to wear my uniform well as a student of that school, so I intend to do the same here. No matter where you came from before, you're one of us now, and have all the rights and responsibilities that entails. Do you understand that, Iwasawa-san?"
Iwasawa-san nodded. Virtually everything about going to school here- both the fun parts and the hard parts- was a new experience for her, so she had a certain amount of childlike wonder.
"Yes, ma'am!" Iwasawa-san said enthusiastically.
Iwasawa-san had told me a little about her village, so I had to wonder how she'd fare at a school like this. If nothing else, though, she was willing to learn, and had nothing but respect and gratitude toward those willing to teach her. Maybe those weren't enough for her to get by, but they were what was most important, so for now, I was optimistic.
After getting my breakfast from the kitchen, I headed back to the dining room and looked for a seat. I saw Yusuke Tezuka, the Ultimate Abstract Artist, sitting with Shinichi Inoue, the Ultimate Linguist at a small table.
"So we finally get a uniform," Tezuka-kun said. "I was kinda worried about what sort of this school this is, but at least they have the uniform part covered."
"You don't sound entirely happy, Tezuka-kun," Inoue-kun said.
"I'm not," Tezuka-kun said. "A part of me was hoping that we wouldn't have to wear a uniform around here."
"Just two more years," Inoue-kun said, holding up his right index and middle finger said. "Once you graduate, you can go on to the best art schools in the country, which will be a lot more lenient when it comes to the dress code."
Back then, I didn't know that we'd only complete one of those two years before our lives went irrevocably off course. From what I heard, the members of the 32nd class had even gone to the trouble of taking college entrance exams for schools that they'd never get to attend, a particularly cruel betrayal of their hopes. But since I wasn't aware of what would happen in the future, the possibility never occurred to me.
Shiro Kurogane, the Ultimate Shogi Player, came in, and, on his way to the kitchen, curtly nodded as I said "Good morning, Kurogane-kun." He hadn't forgiven me for defeating him in a shogi match, but this was an improvement. If nothing else, he'd come to accept that we'd be schoolmates, like it or not, and a bit of civility would help matters.
Komaki Katsura, the Ultimate Saleswoman, and Kuro Akasaka, the Ultimate Checkers Player, sat together at a small table, having just started to eat.
"You look quite nice, Akasaka-san," Katsura-san said, "although I do miss your black shirt- you wore it fairly well."
"Thank you Katsura-san," Akasaka-san said. "Unfortunately, this school doesn't have the same loophole that my old one did. That school only required a 'colorless' button-down shirt with the uniform, and black isn't a color. My senpai was the one who told me about it"
"Ah, I forget that sometimes," Katsura-san said.
"Besides," Akasaka-san said, "I think black and red go best together, as two opposites- one bright and vibrant, the other dark and somber. White's supposed to be black's opposite, but it's a bit too pale and lifeless, so I'm not as fond of it."
I sat by myself at a small table as other students filed in- Minato Mizuhara, the Ultimate Fisherman; Sora Hoshino, the Ultimate Astronomer; Anzu Sugiura, the Ultimate Waitress; and Sousuke Kagami, who refused to discuss his talent. Those four students hadn't hit it off particularly well with anyone at this point, but to my surprise, I saw Sugiura-san sit down across from Mizuhara-kun and start a friendly conversation with him.
Eventually, Sae Edogawa, the Ultimate Mystery Novelist and my favorite author alive, got her meal from the kitchen and sat down at the same table with me.
"Good morning, Miura-san," Edogawa-san said.
"Good morning, Sensei," I said. "I mean, Edogawa-san."
Edogawa-san laughed.
"Good catch," Edogawa-san said. "We wouldn't want anyone mistaking me for a teacher, would we?'
"I guess not," I said. "But does anyone here happen to have the same name as, much less be related to, one of the faculty?"
Edogawa-san nodded.
"Apparently, there's a girl a year above with the same name as our teacher," Edogawa said. "I don't know for certain, but I think Nagato-senpai is Nagato-sensei's daughter."
"You don't know?" I said.
"Sensei hasn't said anything," Edogawa-san said, "and even if Nagato-senpai is her daughter, she treats Nagato-sensei with the same respect that any other student owes her. It's apparently not entirely uncommon for relatives of faculty members to become students at this school."
I was a bit thankful that none of my relatives were connected to Talent High School- in fact, those in my grandparents' generation who were still alive had barely heard about it. It would likely get fairly awkward keeping things professional with a family member while at school.
"Well, I'm not one of them," I said. "I suppose that's a good thing, right?"
"You could say that," Edogawa-san said. "Like I said earlier, Miura-san, you earned your place in this school. Never forget that."
Lastly, three of our more athletic classmates- Akito Sakuragi, the Ultimate Sprinter; Daichi Fukuda, the Ultimate Rock Climber; and Ami Yuuki, the Ultimate Cheerleader- arrived. Just as they seemed more at home on a track, climbing a mountain or at a football game than they did in a classroom, they seemed more comfortable in their practical exercise clothing than they did in a school uniform.
"I am glad the three of you could join us," Mitamura-san said, "but you may want to eat quickly, since there is not much time until class begins."
"Gotcha, Reiko-chan," Yuuki-san said. "I know I'm not the greatest student, but showing up on time is something even someone like me can handle, isn't it?"
As Yuuki-san went to get her food, Mitamura-san looked to be at a loss for words.
"Is something the matter, Mitamura-san?" I said.
"You could say that," Mitamura-san said. "From the moment I was accepted here, I made it my goal to become the top student in my class, just as I was at my former school. I can hardly fathom that at an institution this prestigious, there are those who would be satisfied with merely showing up."
"Aren't you glad?" Hoshino-kun said. "If class rankings are like a race and your goal is to get first place, then everyone else on the track is your enemy. I'd think Sakuragi would be happy if the last few guys on the track pretty much walked most of the way."
"It wouldn't be any fun that way, Hoshino," Sakuragi-kun said as he came out of the kitchen with his breakfast. "If I know that I'll get overtaken if I let up, I can try my best and make my 'best' even better."
"Exactly, Sakuragi-san," Mitamura-san said. "Not only will knowing that the rest of you are excelling in your studies put me at ease, but it will also encourage me to try that much harder."
"You have a good point," I said, "but while being driven to improve yourself is a good thing, I think a lot of people know that they aren't going to win no matter how hard they try. To them, it may not be about slacking off as much as keeping their expectations realistic and focusing on what they're good at. Surely you've had times when you got matched against someone much better than you, haven't you?"
Mitamura-san sighed and nodded solemnly, making me wonder if I'd forced her to think about something unpleasant.
"I have, Miura-san," Mitamura-san said. "In an actual foot race, while I try to stay fit, I would stand no chance against Sakuragi-san- or Yuuki-san, if the event were girls-only. A part of me finds that- my weakness, my imperfection- difficult to accept, but I know what path I must take- reaching the top of the class and becoming worthy of the name Ultimate Proofreader- so I know what I must do."
We stopped our discussion right there so that people could eat and get to class on time, but I had a lot to think about. Everyone here had a goal that they could strive towards, but for me, the only options available were what I had to "settle for" in order to make a living now that my goal of becoming a writer was most likely unattainable.
Once we were in our homeroom classroom on the first floor, woman in her mid-thirties, with brown hair in a neat bob haircut and wearing a dark pinstriped skirt suit, walked in. Her name was Yukari Nagato, and she was our homeroom teacher.
"Good morning everyone," Nagato-sensei said. "I'm glad to see you're all dressed in your Talent High School uniforms, because we're going to take your pictures today. Please assemble near the blackboard."
We formed two rows, with half of us sitting in chairs and half of us standing behind the others. The seated students, from left to right, were Fukuda-kun, Sugiura-san, Hoshino-kun, Edogawa-san, myself, Kagami-kun, Akasaka-san, and Kurogane-kun. The students standing, from left to right, were Yuuki-san, Mizuhara-kun, Katsura-san, Mitamura-san, Iwasawa-san, Inoue-kun, Tezuka-kun, and Sakuragi-kun.
"Is everyone ready?" Nagato-sensei said as she took out a digital camera. "Please excuse me if it takes me a few shots to get this right- my daughter was the one who taught me about how to use a digital camera, after all."
Nagato-sensei took several shots of us for the photo, standing for some and crouching for others. Maybe she had a bit of trouble with how to use a digital camera's features, but she seemed to have a relatively decent grasp of photography for an amateur.
"All set," Nagato-sensei said. "Mitamura-san, could you please check my work? The rest of you, please stay put in case we have to take another."
"Yes, ma'am," Mitamura-san said.
Mitamura-san walked behind the students to her right, then checked the photo. Maybe inspecting photographs wasn't strictly part of Mitamura-san's Ultimate Proofreader talent, but as our class representative, and the student Nagato-sensei hoped would become our student council president, she was probably the most reliable person Nagato-sensei had in her class.
"I think this one would work best, sensei," Mitamura-san said, "but any of them would make for a serviceable photo."
"That's good to hear," Nagato-sensei said. "The headmistress will have to approve the photo, but I think she will agree with your choice."
Mitamura-san smiled gratefully. Perhaps even a matter like this was too important to leave solely in a student's hands, but she clearly was glad that her input was valued.
"For now, though, I would like everyone to take a look at this photo," Nagato-sensei said. "Talent High School alumni go on to a variety of careers, working for some of Japan's most prestigious employers or starting their own organizations. No matter where you go or what you do with your life, this will prove that once, the sixteen of you were all students in the same class."
The photo was eventually printed out, framed, and put up in the gallery. At the time, it seemed like nothing more than an ordinary ritual for a new class of students, but once the killing game began and classmates began murdering each other, it served as a bittersweet remind that we'd once been a class. This is the story of our class, and the time we shared together at the same school.
Author's Notes
This is a collection of short stories set while the main cast attended Talent High School, essentially Where Talent Goes To Die's equivalent of Side:Despair. There won't be a specific order to the stories, and each one will come with a warning revealing what it spoils from the main fic. This doesn't really spoil anything; it simply sets the tone for the series, shows when the class photo was taken, and shows the characters getting used to their new school.
You may eventually see more about the students' upperclassmen, who were in their final year of high school when the cast of Where Talent Goes To Die were in the equivalent of their second year. As for what happened to those students... that's a secret for now.