Outside the third-floor stairwell in Advanced Nurturing High School's teaching building, Ichika Amasawa stood behind the door with her eyes shut, listening to Yukio and Tsukishiro's conversation with a heart full of bitterness.
Hearing Tsukishiro reveal everything and learning, for the first time, who her father was, tears welled up helplessly in her eyes.
How could this be?
How could this be?
Mr. Tsukishiro... was her father?
Ibuki was dumbfounded too. She wanted to pull Ichika farther away, but no matter how she tugged, she couldn't move her. In the end, she could only stand there and listen with her.
And the more she listened, the bigger the bombshell got.
Looking at the tears on Ichika's face, even Ibuki's heart softened. She quietly stayed by her side and didn't say a word.
Tsukishiro's story continued.
"Haha, Yukio, you don't need to be that surprised. Even if the surname is different, from a genetics standpoint, I am indeed Ichika's biological father."
"And when she was still very young, it was me who picked out the surname 'Amasawa' for her."
Even Yukio was moved by that.
When he first learned about Ichika's background, he had assumed she was simply a White Room product, artificially brought into existence by the system itself.
But it turned out Ichika had personally been sent into the White Room by Tsukishiro, one of the White Room's senior figures.
No wonder people said birds of a feather flocked together. These White Room people were all completely off their rockers.
Atsuomi Ayanokoji had personally sent his own son into the White Room.
Tsukishiro had personally sent his own daughter into the White Room.
For the sake of that so-called White Room project, these people chased endless profit and power so obsessively they were willing to sell off every last scrap of their humanity.
Yukio couldn't help shaking his head.
He didn't explode in anger and call Tsukishiro inhuman.
He didn't demand to know whether Tsukishiro regretted it either.
Across two lifetimes, he had lived in a place where family bonds were treasured deeply, and that had naturally shaped a worldview where emotional ties mattered immensely.
But Yukio wasn't some naïve child either. He wasn't the sort who, upon meeting someone with the opposite values, would start shouting and desperately trying to argue them into submission. That would be meaningless.
What he wanted was something simpler.
He wanted to understand what kind of worldview could lead Tsukishiro to make a choice like that, so he could take warning from it himself if he ever faced something similar in the future.
"Why did you send your daughter into the White Room?"
"Was it really just because Atsuomi Ayanokoji brought his own son in, so you subordinates had to follow suit to prove your loyalty? Or did you genuinely want to contribute to the White Room project too?"
Tsukishiro looked at him in surprise.
In the deep gaze of this young man, there was no towering rage, no hysterical condemnation of human nature.
That made Tsukishiro sigh with genuine admiration.
"Yukio, I've praised you many times before, but this time, more than any other, you've surprised me."
"You're mature in a way that doesn't resemble a high school student at all."
"Your future will be extraordinary, without question. Hahaha... well, I've gone off topic. Once you get to my age, that kind of thing happens. You start rambling and wandering off track."
"Anyway, back to my story."
"At the time... perhaps it was both."
"I wanted to show loyalty to Ayanokoji-sama, and I wanted the White Room project to succeed."
"On one hand, I truly was captivated by Ayanokoji-sama. I was willing to stake everything on his ideals."
"On the other hand, the profits hidden inside the White Room project were enormous. If it succeeded, there would be endless money, prestige far above ordinary people..."
"And the kind of power I, a boy once born in some backwater village, never could've dreamed of having."
"With temptation like that in front of me, it was impossible not to lose myself. I was desperate for the White Room to succeed, desperate for it to start mass-producing mid-level elite members of society."
"But unfortunately, the second generation of students all collapsed as well. They died because they couldn't endure the brutality of the training. After that, we entered a real low point."
"At that time, both Kiyotaka and Ichika were still too young."
"So it took us a full three years just to gather enough students for the third generation and restart the project."
"And, without surprise, that failed too."
"That was when Ayanokoji-sama made the decisive move—put Kiyotaka into the fourth generation."
"And, as expected of Ayanokoji-sama's son, Kiyotaka's performance far exceeded all our expectations."
"Academics, physical ability, combat technique—he was perfect in every category, the greatest masterpiece the White Room had ever produced, and to this day its only successful case."
"When everyone around us saw that case and rejoiced, when they all believed the project had finally shown signs of dawn... I, on the other hand, began to regret it."
When Tsukishiro spoke of that regret, the look on his face was painfully sorrowful, as though he were once again reliving the crushing turmoil he'd felt back then.
"The others involved in the project only saw Kiyotaka's brilliance."
"They didn't see the way his peers dropped one after another around him every time they underwent training."
"Yes, perhaps he could endure it because of Ayanokoji-sama's exceptional genes. Perhaps he was a prodigy. But if that's the case, then doesn't that completely overturn the White Room's supposed purpose—turning ordinary people into geniuses through training?"
"So from that point on, I became more and more worried."
"Worried that Ichika wouldn't survive White Room training."
"It's laughable, isn't it? Even though we never acknowledged each other as father and daughter, I still kept going to the White Room now and then just to see her."
"I was the one who put her in there of my own accord, and yet afterward I grew more and more worried about her. Even when I think back on it now, I find myself utterly ridiculous."
"That was when I finally realized... perhaps I had simply grown old."
"I no longer had that youthful heat in me, that willingness to throw everything away for Ayanokoji-sama's cause. I no longer cared about money, prestige, power, or control."
"I only wanted one thing."
"I only wanted Ichika to live happily and carefree."
"But a place like the White Room... what happiness could there possibly be there? What carefree life?"
By now, Yukio had finally pieced the whole thing together.
"So while you kept worrying about her, Ayanokoji's escape gave you the opportunity you'd been waiting for. You used that chance to pull Ichika out of the White Room too."
"Hahaha!"
That clearly struck Tsukishiro right where he lived. This time, his laugh was full of genuine pride, and he looked at Yukio with open approval.
"Exactly."
"That was last winter, I believe? Ayanokoji-sama came back from Advanced Nurturing High School after hitting a wall and wanted to send someone in to take control of the school and bring Kiyotaka back."
"The moment I heard that, I knew it was the best possible chance to save Ichika."
"No wonder," Yukio said with a nod. "Now everything makes sense."
"From the very beginning, I felt like you were never seriously trying to expel Ayanokoji."
"The class vote, the cross-grade team exam, even you directly fighting him on the second deserted island exam... every single move was full of holes. Anyone who looked carefully could find way too many escape routes."
"So it was all just for Ichika. To get her out of the White Room and bring her into the outside world—and into the one place the White Room was least likely to be able to reach."
"And on the deserted island, when Ichika failed to stop me, you didn't punish her at all. You were ridiculously lenient with her."
"So that's why. She's your daughter."
"And this cultural festival too—ha, no wonder you were so dead set on making it happen. Ichika was looking forward to today that much, wasn't she?"
A smile touched Tsukishiro's face, somewhere between happiness and melancholy, and he gave a gentle nod.
"Yes. I secretly watched Ichika several times in the White Room."
"Every single time, she'd be buried in books and magazines about school cultural festivals in the outside world, reading them endlessly."
"And when I spoke with her, she once said that if she ever got out, the very first thing she wanted to do was go enjoy a cultural festival organized by kids her own age."
"So..."
Tsukishiro looked like a man who had finally fulfilled the one obsession left in his heart.
"I'm nothing more than a father who wanted to grant his daughter's wish."
...
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