Ayanokouji Kiyotaka entered ANHS with a lone goal - to lead a peaceful life. However, an uncanny sense of déjà vu plagues him at every corner, making the foreign feel strangely familiar.
And with each revelation, one phrase echoes in his mind, a chilling acknowledgment of his reality:
"Somehow, someway, I found myself at Square One."
Square One
Chapter 1.1 - A Microcosm of Society
It was the first of April, marking the start of another academic year. As the city awoke, its veins – the streets – pulsated with the rush of traffic. But that was to be expected on this day.
On one of the city's many buses, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka sat contemplatively. His contemplative eyes, a shade matching his brown hair, absorbed the evolving vistas of the cityscape. The gentle hum of the bus and the muted conversations around him provided a comforting white noise.
"Good thing I went straight to the bus station. I wouldn't be able to get a good seat had I waited anywhere else," Ayanokouji thought to himself as more and more people hopped on the bus.
The increasing number of students donning the uniform of his institution didn't escape his notice. Casting a discreet gaze around, he searched for any student sporting a different attire. Curiously, he found none.
His eyes narrowed slightly, finding the setting a little weird. But the sensation was fleeting, and soon, his focus shifted to the bus's other occupants.
First, his eyes wandered to a middle-aged salary man. The man's eyes, every so often wandering to the girls in the bus, made the boy think he was someone who had groped someone aboard a crowded bus before.
"Probably had done it 20 times," he thought to himself before shaking his head at the inappropriateness of his thoughts.
Next, he looked at an elderly lady, who stood in front of him. She was unsteady on her feet, wobbling so badly he thought she could fall at any moment.
A silent debate waged within Ayanokouji—should he surrender his seat? But the thought withered almost as soon as it bloomed, rationalizing that the elderly lady boarded the bus knowing full well it would be full.
Other people would have frowned upon him had they known what was going on in his head. Luckily for him, that was an impossible endeavor.
And so, he turned his attention back to the world outside, his mind as clear as a passing stream. The weather was undeniably pleasant, a sky unsullied by clouds greeted his eyes—a welcomed and refreshing view.
Settling further into his seat, he drew his eyes shut, fully intending to sleep his way to his destination.
However, fate had other plans for him.
"Excuse me, but shouldn't you offer up your seat?" A feminine voice asked.
The boy's eyes shot open, surprised at the sudden question. Perhaps the lady noticed him paying attention to the old woman earlier?
"No... that's not it," he corrected himself as he observed the unfolding scene.
The woman, wearing an office uniform, was facing another boy, a well-built teenager with dyed blonde hair. He was seated in one of the priority seats intended for senior citizens, the handicapped, and pregnant women.
The elderly lady stood behind the office woman, and perhaps silently hoping the boy would heed her call. Unfortunately for the two, the blonde-haired boy simply ignored their presence.
The lack of acknowledgement seemed to have agitated the office woman, as she hardened her glare at the boy, who had his eyes shut in feigned repose.
"Hey, you there," the lady spoke again in a more commanding voice. "Can't you see that this old lady is having trouble?"
With the increased volume in her voice, they've gained the attention of a lot of people in the bus.
A smirk played across the blonde-haired boy's lips as he cracked open an eye, fixing the office woman with a languid, sardonic gaze.
"What a weird question you have there, lady," he remarked flippantly.
A heavy pause hung between them before he stretched languidly, adding, "I do see the old lady is having trouble, but what does that have to do with giving up my seat? There is no reason for me to do so."
"You occupy a priority seat," she countered sharply, her gaze unwavering. "It's natural to reserve those seats to the elderly."
"More like it is what is deemed socially acceptable," Ayanokouji corrected her mentally.
While what the office woman said made sense, the boy willingly sat on the priority seat. To the brown-haired boy, it would be unlikely he'd just give it up.
At the lady's words, the grin didn't leave the blonde-haired boy's face. In fact, it widened, almost tauntingly. "That, I don't understand. Priority seats are just that— priority seats. I do not have an obligation to move, do I? My occupation of this seat endows me with the choice to relinquish it—or not."
After a brief pause, he continued. "Am I supposed to give up my seat just because I'm young? Ha! That reasoning is nonsense."
But he didn't stop there. The office woman, who was growing agitated by the second was provoked further by the boy.
"As a young person, I most certainly wouldn't find standing inconvenient. But why would I willingly expend more energy when comfort's within reach?" With a flourish, he patted the seat and lounged back further, emphasizing his point.
It succeeded in provoking the woman. "What kind of attitude is that to take with your superiors?!" she demanded.
The blonde-haired boy cocked an eyebrow. "Superiors? Well, it is true that both of you have been alive longer than I have, but the word 'superior' implies that you're referring to someone of a higher position, doesn't it?"
The passengers, who were initially content with watching the scene unfold, now exchanged glances and whispers, a reaction triggered by the boy's brazen arrogance.
The office woman drew a breath, readying a retort, but the boy cut her off. "In addition, we have another problem. Even though our ages are different, wouldn't you agree that you have an impertinent attitude and are being extremely rude?"
From his vantage point, Ayanokouji mused whether this confrontation was simply the boy's form of entertainment. The blonde seemed more interested in riling her up than having a genuine discourse.
"Wha— You're a high schooler, aren't you?! You should be quiet and listen to what adults tell you!" she snapped.
"My, my! You're just proving my point. How rude and impertinent," the blonde-haired boy replied, chuckling as he closed his eyes. "And maybe that's why you're the way you are, no? A person content with simply following orders could never be a superior existence."
Red-faced and flustered, the woman found herself at a loss for words. The old lady, who had thus far remained quiet, gently touched the agitated woman's arm, offering her a small, albeit strained smile.
"It... it's fine, really. Don't... worry about me too much," the old lady spoke for the first time.
But at this point, the debate had extended beyond the priority seat. The office lady was enraged at the blatant disrespect sent her way.
The blonde-haired boy smirked at the old lady's words and turned his head to the office lady. "Apparently, this elderly woman is more perceptive than you, which is nice."
He then turned his attention to the old lady. "It is admirable how logical you are in your advanced age. I applaud you for that. Please enjoy your remaining years," he remarked, his smile bordering on patronizing, before sliding his earphones in and listening to music.
"I'm sorry..."
Desperately fighting back her tears, the office woman apologized to the old lady. Not only did she fail in making the boy give up his seat, her pride was also wounded by the encounter.
Ayanokouji turned his eyes away from the commotion, figuring it was the end of that argument. He was just glad it wasn't him that was confronted by the office woman, because it'd be a pain for him to deal with.
"I don't think I could talk her down like that guy did," he mused.
As brazen and arrogant as the display was, the blonde clearly won the exchange.
"Um... I think that the lady is right."
Support materialized unexpectedly for the woman, emanating from a beautiful, beige-haired girl wearing the girl's uniform of Ayanokouji's high school.
As she stepped closer to the scene, Ayanokouji noted an unmistakable look of genuine concern on her face.
"And the new challenger is a pretty girl, eh? It would seem that I'm rather lucky with the fairer sex," the boy quipped.
"She's clearly in discomfort," the beige-haired girl said, gesturing to the elderly woman. "Can't you offer up your seat? While you might consider such courtesy unnecessary, I think it would contribute greatly to society."
"A contribution to society, you say?" The boy's smile sharpened, his eyes gleaming in amusement. "An interesting perspective. Alas, my interest lies not in the collective good but in personal comfort. Why should I forsake it for a stranger?"
"And another thing," he continued, the smirk ever-present, "you target me for sitting in a priority seat, but what stops you from asking any of the others? If your concern is genuine, the label of 'priority' should hold little weight, don't you think?"
Unwavering, the boy's arrogance hung heavily in the air, met with resigned smiles from both the office worker and the elderly lady. The girl, however, stood her ground.
But realizing the boy wouldn't budge, she redirected her approach.
"Please, if I could have your attention," she implored, her voice cutting through the hum of the engine and muted conversations. "Would anyone be willing to offer their seat to this lady? Anyone at all?"
Her passionate plea captivated Ayanokouji. How was it possible to infuse such a short request with such undeniable compassion and determination?
To some, she might have seemed insistent, perhaps even bothersome. Yet, her sincerity was undeniable, and it resonated.
Ayanokouji, who sat near to where the old woman stood, briefly entertained the notion of relinquishing his seat and putting an end to the commotion.
However, he didn't make a move.
Although it would be best for everyone to get the entire ordeal over with, it wasn't like it was bothering Ayanokouji himself. If he so chose, he could simply close his eyes, drift into sleep and avoid the unfolding drama.
But still, he wondered what the others would do.
A cursory glance around the bus revealed two main reactions among the passengers: those feigning ignorance as if they hadn't heard the ongoing dispute, and those visibly torn about how to respond.
However, amidst these general responses, one individual stood out as an anomaly.
A dark-haired girl seated directly across from Ayanokouji seemed markedly detached from the ongoing dispute. It was clear she noted the altercation, but she was indifferent to it.
When gazes unexpectedly met, Ayanokouji did something uncharacteristic of him: he offered the girl a brief nod before he smoothly averted his gaze.
"Huh... that was strange," he thought to himself.
It wasn't the girl's apathy that puzzled him, but his own uncharacteristic response to the brief interaction. Typically, he would have averted his gaze immediately, avoiding any direct engagement.
However, this time, he had initiated a silent acknowledgment.
"But maybe I'm just taking well to Matsuo's lessons," he tried to reason with himself.
Matsuo, Ayanokouji's caretaker over the past year, taught him many lessons in dealing with people. The aged butler thought it to be necessary, as the boy had been technically homeschooled for most of his life.
A sudden voice interrupted his train of thought. "E-excuse me... Obaa-san, please take my seat."
Ayanokouji's attention was drawn to an office worker, guilt evident in her eyes. It was clear that, if not for the beige-haired girl's impassioned plea, she might not have felt compelled to assist the elderly lady.
The elderly woman graced the office worker with a warm smile.
"Thank you, dear," she murmured.
The worker returned the smile, bowed respectfully, and guided the old woman to her vacated seat.
"Well... I guess it's all over now," Ayanokouji mused internally.
With the commotion dealt with, the brown-haired boy finally closed his eyes. As short—and perhaps, pointless— as the whole debate was, he did get some answers to questions he once asked himself.
The truth laid bare was as simple as it was disconcerting: altruism is often a mask worn by convenience.
He understood now— people often wait to act until someone else steps up first, even if they know someone needs help.
This wasn't just a cynical musing but an observable axiom of the human condition, underscored by the reluctance he witnessed around him. Today's incident wasn't an outlier, but rather another confirmation that self-interest often casts a longer shadow than compassion.
And in that shadow, Ayanokouji found a reflection of reality— distorted perhaps, but unmistakably true.
Soon, the bus rumbled to a halt at Ayanokouji's destination: Advanced Nurturing High School. The bustling throng of students pressed toward the exit, and it took some time before Ayanokouji managed to step off the bus.
Upon disembarking, an impressive gate crafted from natural rock stood before him, framing the view of the imposing structures beyond. The school's buildings, equipped with state-of-the-art facilities, loomed invitingly.
The brown-haired boy wasn't unfamiliar with this sight. Just a month prior, students were granted a sneak peek into ANHS. This obligatory preview required them to set specific visitation schedules to tour their future dorms and familiarize themselves with the expansive school grounds.
While some students might've grumbled about the enforced visit, for him, it was a logical precaution. Given that ANHS spanned a staggering 600,000 square meters, it wasn't hard to imagine someone getting lost.
Ayanokouji remembered a story of a student who had ventured too deep into the forest and had to be rescued. That anecdote had come from his guide during his initial visit.
"I wonder what was the point of such large area for a high school. The government sure did not hold back in spending for this school..." he thought to himself.
But perhaps, that was by design.
After all, the government-operated ANHS advertised itself as the institution that would produce graduates who would be the backbone of Japan's future, and perhaps, their dedication to that mission compelled them to give everything they could in ensuring ANHS is different from any high school in the world.
"Well... it might be worth exploring the entirety of the school when I get the time," Ayanokouji thought, mentally noting that objective.
His thoughts were then interrupted as he realized that the crowd around him had thinned. Only a scant number of students remained.
"Ah... I should get going..." he decided, taking a deep breath and directing himself towards the school gates.
However, fate had other plans.
"Wait!"
His stride broke as the sharp call reached him. The voice belonged to the dark-haired girl he'd noticed earlier.
Her eyes bore into him with an intensity that held him in place. "You were looking at me. Why?"
Ayanokouji raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Did she actually wait for me just to ask that?" he wondered.
Her words, though, felt oddly familiar. Perhaps from one of the movies Matsuo had shown him? Ayanokouji mentally scolded himself for drawing pointless connections.
"Oh, did that bother you? Sorry. I was trying to see how people would react to that girl's plea," he replied.
The dark-haired girl's eyes remained narrowed as she processed Ayanokouji's response.
"How people would react? And why is that any of your concern?" her voice dripped with mild disdain. She didn't seem to appreciate being the subject of someone else's observation.
Ayanokouji paused, searching for the right words. Something in his mind told him he better think of a good answer. "It's not really any of my concern. I'm simply curious how people would react now that there is a force compelling them to act. Nothing more to it."
She seemed to ponder his words for a moment. "I see."
As she turned to leave, Ayanokouji felt the urge to say more, but he quickly dismissed the thought. There was no point in continuing a conversation that found its natural conclusion.
Watching the dark-haired girl walk away, Ayanokouji allowed himself a moment to reflect before he, too, made his way inside the school.
Author's Notes:
Hi! If you've reached this point, I would like to thank you for finishing the first chapter of this fanfic. I've been a reader mostly, but with my lighter schedule, I figured I could spend some of my time with writing... and so, here we are.
So the basic premise of this story is exactly as the title implies: square one— a return to the very start, a blank slate.
But how will this work out? And why is this happening? You'll figure it out eventually.
Anyways, there are already two examples of this "Square One" phenomena from this chapter alone:
1. Kiyotaka's acknowledgement of Suzune when their eyes met
2. Him noting he should pick his words well (which also led to their conversation ending in amicable terms)