Classroom of the elite: The Four elites

Chapter 8: Wammy’s house X The Whiteroom



Ayanokoji's POV:

May 2nd had arrived like any other day. During this brief stretch of time since our arrival, Ike and the rest of the class began to listen to our teacher's words more attentively. On the other hand, Sudou remained as unruly as ever, his head lolling back in sleep during class. No one dared to reprimand him. It was as though he had resigned himself to this fate, his lack of discipline now a known constant. Our class had no system to accumulate points, after all, and his behavior was slowly turning into a source of frustration for everyone around him. He basically became a common enemy amongst the classmates.

The temptation to sleep myself grew stronger as the day wore on, especially as the hour before lunch approached. The previous night had been a late one, consumed by an online video that I couldn't pull myself away from. Sleep was beginning to feel almost irresistible, pulling at me with a weight I couldn't shake.

"Ah?"

A sharp pain suddenly shot through my right arm, snapping me out of my impending drowsiness.

"What's the matter, Ayanokouji? You suddenly cried out. Have you entered a rebellious phase or something?"

I blinked, momentarily disoriented by the interruption.

"N-no. I apologize, Chiyabashira-sensei," I muttered, trying to brush it off. "Just got some dirt in my eye."

Normally, the class would whisper and glance around when something like this happened, but the air was thick with the fear of losing points. Instead, everyone kept their eyes trained forward, shooting me fleeting, judgmental glances. As I rubbed my stinging arm, my gaze landed on my neighbour, Horikita. She was holding a mathematical compass, her eyes focused on her work. It was the most absurd sight, what would she need a compass for in this school? A tool like that wasn't even required. I didn't bother to hold back my irritation. After class, I immediately confronted her.

"Certain things are off-limits," I said as a sighed followed. "It's dangerous to stab someone."

She looked at me, her eyes widening with a fake exaggerated surprise. "Are you angry with me?"

"You put a hole in my arm."

"What?" She blinked at me in feigned innocence. "When did I stab you with a compass needle, Ayanokouji-kun?"

"You're holding a dangerous weapon right now," I pointed out.

"So, just because I'm holding something means I stabbed you?" she shot back, her voice laced with mockery.

I frowned before she continued. "Be careful. If you get caught sleeping, it would lead to a loss of points."

Horikita had, in her own way, begun to assert control within Class D. Her protests to the school had gotten her nowhere, and now it seemed like she was settling into her new role. If she ever tried to fall asleep in class, I would be sure to return the favor.

When the lunch bell rang, Hirata stood up, addressing the class with a seriousness I hadn't seen from him before.

"Chiyabashira-sensei mentioned that the midterm is coming up soon," he started, his voice carrying over the noise. "If you fail, you'll be expelled. I think it's a good idea for us to form a study group. Even with the guide presented from light, we can't rely on it entirely."

It was clear that Hirata, the supposed 'savior' of Class D, had taken on yet another mission to keep us all afloat.

"If you neglect your studies," he continued, "you'll fail and be expelled immediately. We need to avoid that. But studying won't just prevent expulsion, it could also earn us points. High marks might improve our class's assessment. I've spoken to some students amongst our class who did well on the last test, and they're helping us prepare a study plan. So, if you're worried, join the group. Everyone is welcome."

His gaze shifted toward Sudou as he made his plea, the weight of his words hanging in the air.

"Tch."

Sudou responded with a dismissive snort, crossing his arms and closing his eyes. His relationship with Hirata had soured ever since Sudou had crushed Hirata's attempt at leading the class through an introductory game.

The conversation dragged on and so did time. As expected, and after some manipulation from Horikita, we were finally able to establish the study group. It included the so-called 'three idiots' of the class, and, reluctantly, myself, dragged into this situation as usual.

As we made our way to the library, my thoughts drifted toward the tension between Kushida and Horikita. The animosity between the two was no secret, and I couldn't help but wonder how it would all play out. It was an issue waiting to escalate, and the situation was likely going to be a headache for all of us.

Just before we reached the library entrance, I paused. A strange feeling washed over me as I stood just before the entrance, contemplating something that definitely wasn't unusual.

"Are you not coming?" Horikita's voice cut through the quiet, and I noticed the suspicious narrowing of her eyes.

"Yes, but give me a moment," I said, looking over my shoulder. "I need to make a quick phone call."

"Alright, but hurry up and let the others know as well," she instructed, her gaze shifting back to the library doors.

I waited until I was sure no one was around before speaking up. "You can come out now."

My eyes focused on a shadowy corner just outside the library, where a figure had appeared.

A man stepped into view, his disheveled black hair seemingly even more messy than the last times I saw him. He rested his thumb against his lips, his eyes studying me with a piercing intensity, as though he were analyzing my every move. It was the same guy I had encountered twice before in a short span of time.

"Well?" I said, a trace of curiosity creeping into my voice. "What is it?"

The man smiled, a grin that felt almost knowing. "You're the son of Atsuomi Ayanokōji."

The revelation hit me as I narrowed my eyes. The fact that he knew such specific details about me was unnerving.

"And what if I was?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

His grin widened. "That would mean you're the so called masterpiece from the White Room."

Watari's POV:

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*Somewhere between two and three years ago*

I glanced down at the table before me, its surface cluttered with a various amounts of case files, each one a testament to the countless mysteries solved by the world, renowned detective known simply as L.

One file caught my eye, a recent addition, marked LABBMC. It detailed a case that had just come to a close. On the surface, everything seemed to have gone well, but beneath that, it was more of a loss than a victory.

"Are our methods truly effective?" I muttered aloud, the thought heavy in my mind, still going over the details of the latest murder.

BB was initially a member of Wammy's house who was meant as a backup for A, who was supposed to take over after L. But things hadn't gone to plan. A, burdened by the impossible pressure of succeeding someone like L, had crumbled under it, unfortunately taking his own life. BB, on the other hand, had taken a different route, one of resentment against L. Instead of following the path set before him, he aimed to create a case that not even L could solve but unfortunately for him, his opponent was L.

Rising from my seat, I crossed the room to where the names of all the children from Wammy's House were pinned on the board. Nate River (Near) and Mihael Keehl (Mello) stood out among them, brilliant yes, but I couldn't shake the worry that they might one day find themselves on the same dangerous path as A or BB.

In my life, I had immersed myself in research, and later, with L's collaboration, I had achieved successes few could dream of. But that same experience led me to wonder, could I, perhaps, test the new generation differently? Could they, like A and BB before them, prove themselves worthy of stepping into L's shoes?

I felt the need to explore programs outside of Wammy's House, initiatives that might have followed in its footsteps. After making a series of calls and tapping into my connections, I arranged a meeting with someone who piqued my interest: Atsuomi Ayanokōji from Japan.

Just as I finished the call, I heard the door open.

"Do you need something, Watari?" L's voice came, slightly muffled as he scratched the back of his head.

"Actually, yes," I replied. "I was hoping you'd accompany me."

Though L was notoriously reserved, there were moments when he stepped out of his shell, especially when it came to matters that concerned me.

He paused, still scratching his head, and then met my eyes. "So, when are we leaving?"

"Right now, if you're ready."

Without hesitation, he nodded, and we both made our way to one of the many private planes at my disposal.

The sixteen-hour flight stretched ahead of us. As we boarded, L immediately settled into his seat and drifted off to sleep, leaving me to turn my thoughts inward. I couldn't shake the memory of my last encounter with Ayanokōji, a meeting from years ago when he'd presented an idea I had funded amongst other people, but it was one of them I had long since forgotten. Now, as I scoured what little information I could find online, I was struck by the absence of anything substantial beyond his original proposal.

The hours passed slowly, but finally, after what felt like oddly longer than it should have, we touched down in Japan. A limousine was waiting for us, its sleek black exterior making it feel extra fancy. We climbed in, and made our way to the place called the whiteroom.

Atsuomi Ayanokōji's POV:

*Eighteen hours had passed.*

The time since my last conversation with Watari had stretched on and now had me lost in thought. He was a figure who was shrouded in mystery, known mainly to people through him being the only know connection to the figure known as L. It was possible that he might be escorting L himself as he mentioned bringing someone with him. Though it seemed just as likely that he was bringing someone else from his own circle.

In the time I had spent studying him, I had learned of Watari's role in the establishment of an institution designed to nurture orphaned children, children destined to be successors to L. While I admired his cause, I could not ignore the stark contrast between his methods and my own from what I could gather. His approach seemed more refined, almost philosophical in nature, though I still struggled to understand it fully. Watari had always been something of a riddle due to his mysteriousness.

The glass of wine in my hand swirled lazily as I pondered the man. My secretary's voice brought me back to the present. "Sir, your guests have arrived."

I rose and adjusted my suit, making my way toward the entrance. Watari had changed since our last meeting. The years had taken their toll on him. His face, once sharp and composed, now bore the marks of age and experience. It was clear that time had altered him. However, it was the young man accompanying him that intrigued me the most.

He seemed to be slightly taller than most people his age, though there was something about his posture that suggested indifference, a slouch that seemed deliberate. His hair, jet black and disheveled, hung loosely over his eyes, casting a shadow that almost kept them hidden. But from what I could see with his eyes, his eyes felt different. They were dark, almost abyssal, and they locked onto mine as if he were seeing straight through me, reading my every thought.

I looked back at watari before I extended my hand to him, greeting him with a cordial smile. "It's been a while, Watari."

He returned the gesture with a firm handshake, though my attention now drawn back to the stranger beside him. I turned to the young man and asked, "And who might you be?"

He hesitated, casting a quick glance at Watari before responding, "Rue Ryuzaki."

The name meant nothing to me. I had researched everything linked to watari, and I had never encountered a "Rue Ryuzaki' in the places that mattered or didn't. My curiosity was now definitely even more piqued, I nodded casually, inviting them both inside. "Please, follow me. I have a lot I'd like to show you."

We traversed the sleek corridors of my facility, each step feeling louder than usual due to the silence. After a few moments of silence, I couldn't help but talk about my work, what I had built here, what I had come to understand about the pursuit of human perfection. I found myself almost willing to reveal more than I intended, I had plan to lie to a degree, but something in the young man's eyes with watari, made me feel like they would see through any pretense I might put up.

We reached a large window, where a group of children were engaged in intense study. Their minds, bright, were focused on a task that required their utmost focus.

"Observe," I began, my voice tinged with anticipation, "these children are in the process of acquiring crucial knowledge. Failure is not an option here. Those who falter are discarded without any hesitation."

I looked to Watari and the young man, expecting some reaction, perhaps a flicker of disgust, or at least some sign of disapproval. Instead, they both seemed to scrutinize the children with an intensity that mirrored my own, studying their every move without judgment.

The tour continued, leading us to an arena where children trained in combat, pitted against skilled assassins in a test of both wits and strength.

Watari observed quietly. "Fascinating. My own methods focus on strength conditioning, but this... this is something else entirely."

Our conversation shifted to the realm of philosophy and methodology, my own idea of molding the perfect human, whilst his was making the most brilliant detective. Both Watari and I seemed to share a similar ambition in a way, albeit approached from different angles.

We stopped before a heavy door, one that led to a space I held in high regard. The young man, Rue, seemed fixated on it.

"What secrets does this room hold?" he asked, his thumb absently brushing his lips as his curiosity bled through.

I couldn't suppress the pride in my voice. "What lies behind these walls is a creation of my own design, a being who has been trained to exist outside the distractions of the world. His potential is unmatched and unrivalled."

Rue's voice was almost too soft to hear as he spoke. "So this creation is Your magnum opus, so to speak."

I smiled at the compliment, though I remained guarded. "Not to boast, but yes. He is my legacy, a living testament to the pursuit of perfection. He embodies a level of excellence that transcends simple notions like 'perfect', he is my offspring who transcends any other human.

Rue's eyes never left me, though his next words made me pause. "Could paternal bias cloud your judgment?"

The question was simple, yet it cut straight to the heart of the matter. "Perhaps," I replied, my tone unwavering, "but to me, I don't view him as my son. To me, he is an achievement. A product of my craft, perfected."

As I spoke, I noticed Watari's growing interest. It was clear he was thinking about something, though I couldn't quite discern his thoughts. It was then that he spoke, asking the question I had been expecting.

"The pursuit of perfection is a noble one," Watari said, "but what exactly do you intend to do with this... creation?"

I allowed a small, satisfied smile to form. "My ultimate ambition for him is to see him rise as the leader of Japan. To guide the country into a new era of perfection."

Before I could continue, Rue interjected with a question that stopped me in my tracks. "Hypothetically, what if he were to turn against you? Do you have a contingency plan for such a situation?"

The suggestion of betrayal was absurd, almost laughable, yet I considered it carefully. "A contingency plan? The very idea that my creation would defy me is beyond ridiculous. But, rest assured, I have accounted for such possibilities."

Just as some slight tension seemed to rise, Watari's phone beeped, pulling our attention to the device. "I've received the results from the test you provided," he said, his voice steady as he handed me the screen.

I had obliged Watari's request; he asked me while on the phone, sending him an assessment designed to challenge his students with my subjects. Among the current crop of whiterooms, only two actually managed to unravel its complexities, one of them being my son. However, as I perused the scores with watari, my composure was shattered by the emergence of a flawless result I didn't foresee.

I glanced at the numbers and scores once more, to make sure I was seeing it correctly before I spoke. "Nate River? It seems you have a true genius amongst your students," I inquired, my brows knitting slightly together in surprise at this unforeseen perfection. I did know who he was from the information I had gathered, yet I still wasn't able to predict such an outcome

"Ahh, Nate River," Watari responded with a hint of reverence, "should the unfortunate pain of death befall L, he is my prime candidate to fill his shoes." He then shared the device's screen with Ryuzaki, revealing the results to him.

I hesitated, allowing a brief moment to pass before my curiosity nudged me towards contemplation about the mysterious figure known only as L. A part of me speculated that it was possible that Ryuzaki might well be L in the flesh, although I harboured reservations, mainly because my mental image of L had always been of someone with more years upon them. Yet the thought lingered, that perhaps this assumption was misguided. With a contemplative gaze, I studied Ryuzaki, then shifted my attention back to Watari.

"Now that you've divulged the secrets of my own masterpiece, I think it's only fair if I inquire about your hand in sculpting the world's greatest detective." I posed the question, my voice tinged with genuine intrigue, interested to unravel the mystery of L's genesis to possibly use it for my own benefit if need be.

Watari met my gaze; his expression was clouded with a sense of interest. "To what exactly are you saying?" he queried.

"My inquiries pertain to the greatest detective known far and wide as L. The threads of information that I've been able to form together seem to indicate that you are the solitary thread connecting us to him," I said.

"Ahhh," he started to understand what I meant, a nod accompanying his acknowledgment. "I can surmise that your research extended to the halls of Wammy's House prior to my visit. It's true that I played a role in L's development, but it was nothing more than a mere nudge on the path he was destined to walk. He was a prodigy, his talents innate. My contributions were minimal, simply guiding him towards the realm of detective work."

"So, his intellect is entirely a product of natural abilities with a hint of nurture?" I pressed, and my curiosity piqued.

"From all the information I've gathered throughout my time, I am firmly convinced that his intellectual prowess is something that is unmatched; he is a singular phenomenon. I am sceptical that there will never emerge another with a mind to match L's, one that is so effortlessly brilliant," he explained.

His words prompted me to ponder whether L's intellect surpassed even that of my own prodigious offspring, I wondered if I could set up something between L and Koji. Though I banished the thought with a shake of my head, considering that even if Watari were amenable to such an exchange, L would likely dismiss the proposition, his time consumed by detective work, and would most likely find this something not worth his time.

"Despite my grasp of the situation, my curiosity remains unchanged. May I ask, what is the purpose behind your visit to my esteemed institution exactly? It appears your own is faring quite well, particularly with the student named Nate River," I commented, fully aware of his aspirations to broaden the philosophical approach of his tutelage. Yet, my interest lay in discerning the reasons behind his desire for change, especially when a pupil like Nate River had achieved such flawless academic feats that all but two of my own had passed flawlessly.

Watari regarded me with a solemn pause before responding. "There are details I am not at liberty to fully divulge as of right now, but we've recently weathered an incident that resulted in two of our most brilliant minds turning rogue."

"I understand," I replied, acknowledging the futility of probing for further revelations, as full disclosure was unlikely, which was a shame.

Ryuzaki, who had been preoccupied with Watari's phone, now fixed his penetrating gaze on me. "What is the age of your son, this 'creation' you so highly speak of?"

"He is presently thirteen years of age," I informed him.

Ryuzaki's eyes flickered back towards the door, and he murmured a phrase that barely reached my ears. "So, he's merely a year my junior."

"Nevertheless, I propose we diverge from this topic. We've sufficiently discussed the masterpiece I've forged; perhaps it's time I showcase other additional facets of this establishment," I suggested, sensing Ryuzaki's interest to delve deeper but leading them onward nonetheless.

I guided them through the corridors of the facility, unveiling each significant location and what exactly we do for each area. Until at last, we retraced our steps to the entrance after giving them a basic rundown.

"I trust you found your visit enlightening. I wish our reunion could be more extended, Watari, but other pressing matters demand my attention, I'm afraid," I said, exchanging another handshake with him.

"It is regrettable, but such is the nature of our work. I do, however, harbour aspirations to one day pit the prodigies of Wammy's House against those nurtured within the White Room," he remarked in a genuine way that seemed to be able to test our respective students.

Before I could respond, Rue began to make his way toward the exit, his impatience now evident.

"I'm sorry for his haste," Watari said with an apologetic bow. "I look forward to our next meeting."

I returned to my desk, sinking into the chair as my eyes fell upon the mountain of paperwork. I couldn't help but remember the intensity of Ryuzaki's stare as it lingered in my mind, akin to the ominous presence in Kiyotaka's gaze. The only distinction was that Kiyotaka's eyes radiated a chilling coldness, whereas Ryuzaki's seemed devoid of soul.

Before I could further dwell on the day's interactions with my former colleague and his companion, my thoughts were abruptly disrupted by the entrance of my secretary, and I refocused on the tasks at which I excel at, and what was making these worthless creatures in the whiteroom into something useful.

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