True Education: I Have a Life Simulator

"Hey! I don't care who you are or what your relationship with Ryo is, just don't touch him right now!"

Matsuo Eiichirou shouted as he struggled to get past the two bodyguard-like men blocking his way, desperately yelling toward Sakayanagi Arisu.

"He doesn't remember anything now, he poses no threat to you!"

Sakayanagi set her cane against the bedside cabinet. She gently tucked a strand of silver hair behind her ear, her petite form looking up at Matsuo with a smirk that didn't reach her deep violet eyes—eyes as still as a pond, impossible to read.

"And what makes you so sure I don't know him? Or that he doesn't know me?"

She paused deliberately, already having recognized Matsuo's identity. In fact, it had been her who leaked Kitagawa Ryo's whereabouts to his father over two years ago. A slight smile curled on her lips.

"His life didn't start at fourteen, you know. You're not the only friend he ever had."

Though Matsuo sensed she had no ill intentions, he furrowed his brow and asked, "You know Ryo came from the White Room?"

"White Room?"

Sakayanagi tilted her head. Her upright sitting posture gave off a neat and graceful impression, but the small tilt added an odd vitality to her demeanor.

"Well, you could say that... though strictly speaking, it's not entirely accurate."

"White Room's goal was to create emotionless machines... oh? There's someone else here too? Is that alright?"

She glanced at Nanase Tsubasa, intrigued.

"She's someone I trust," Matsuo responded immediately. "If you truly know anything about Ryo's past, I beg you to tell me."

He stepped forward and bowed slightly, clenching his lips.

"Please."

"Alright. Looks like it'll be a while before he wakes up anyway... or maybe he'll never wake up?"

Sakayanagi mischievously poked Kitagawa Ryo's cheek with her finger.

"...You wouldn't be that pathetic, would you?" she muttered.

"How much do you know about the 'White Room'?"

"Just that it's an institution for cultivating geniuses... I never dared ask my father much."

Matsuo's father, a butler serving the upper echelon, had revealed only fragments. Sakayanagi explained:

"Your assumption isn't wrong. It's a closed environment that mass-produces artificial geniuses, or rather, emotionless robots."

"I visited once when I was little. Inside a massive white facility, five- and six-year-old children sat receiving education in silence. It was suffocating."

She shook her head.

"Even if the program occasionally produced success stories, it was a failure at its core."

Sakayanagi gently stroked Ryo's face.

"Those created that way aren't even human. No matter how smart, it's meaningless."

"It's only through human connection that we understand warmth. That warmth... it's not a bad thing."

"So?"

Matsuo sensed a bad premonition and gritted his teeth to keep listening.

"So, I wanted to prove them wrong."

Sakayanagi smiled serenely.

"If their ideology says humans are stronger without emotions, then I only need to create someone who fights for emotions... and have them defeat the White Room's 'masterpiece,' right?"

"And that person is Ryo?"

"Just a coincidence."

She shook her head.

"Ryo's case was quite unique. After his parents died in a car crash, he lost all memories. He was ten years old but mentally no different from a newborn. Because of that, none of his relatives would adopt him."

"Sending a child like that to an orphanage wasn't an option."

"I overheard the nurses discussing it in the hospital and asked my father to 'adopt' him."

"You mean... you sent Ryo there?"

"Mm."

"Then what about Ichinose Honami's letters?"

Sakayanagi chuckled softly at the question.

"Turns out, Ryo still remembered something. For instance, his childhood friend Ichinose Honami. He used to call her 'Honami-chan,' and she called him 'Ryo-nii.'"

"Before leaving with us, he secretly visited her home and left a fake mailing address. It was actually a vacation home my family owns in the U.S. Who knows how he remembered it?"

"Honami started writing letters to that address—all of which ended up with us."

She seemed amused recalling those memories.

"We originally thought we'd need to implant the idea of 'fighting for someone' into his brain, but surprisingly, he already had that drive deep within him."

"You're talking about Ichinose Honami?"

Matsuo glanced at the girl lying unconscious in the other bed.

"Correct. But sorry, no reward for that."

Sakayanagi's tone was flat. For her, manipulating strangers' emotions was like playing with toys.

"Ryo adapted easily to our guidance. With traces of his past memories, he quickly believed he had a sister. And for that fictional 'little sister,' he worked desperately in that white room."

"Truly, he worked hard."

She looked down at Ryo with a hint of sorrow.

"He had no special talents, yet out of sheer belief in his mission, he became top of his cohort within the first three years. Back then, he was so lovable it hurt."

"If you told him, 'Onii-chan, do your best today,' he'd study without sleep until he collapsed. If you patted his head, he'd push through physical training and beat stronger students—then come back injured just to say, 'I did it!' Just like a loyal puppy."

"Oh? Are you angry now?"

Seeing Matsuo's clenched fists, she smiled.

"Ryo was doing it of his own will."

"You brainwashed him. You manipulated his will!"

"Is that so?"

Unfazed, she continued with a glimmer in her eyes.

"Sadly, his will wasn't that strong either."

"In the fourth year—he was about fourteen—Ryo hit his limit."

"His learning and physical abilities suddenly declined. He couldn't remember what he learned today, forgot last month's lessons... eventually, his grades plummeted to the bottom of his cohort."

"He realized he was being eliminated. His expression then... so despairing. Yet he still cried and begged to stay for his 'sister's' sake. It was pathetic."

A cruel smile tugged at her lips.

"So in the end, I had to expel him myself. A failure."

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[You turned over in the ocean of dreams. These dreams, as soft as the most luxurious sofas, enveloped you gently. You waved your hand, and one of the dreams floated over, playing out in front of your eyes like a movie.]

[You discovered at the age of thirteen that you could peer into the dreams of others. Since then, you deliberately explored all kinds of dreams in this space every night. At the time, you didn't realize the enormous pressure this would place on you later. To you, it was merely a way to pass the time.]

["But these people's dreams are so boring." You yawned. Most of your peers in the White Room had empty dreams at night—blank, hollow, like that enormous sterile facility itself. When such empty dreams entered your mind, they didn't even make a ripple.]

["Should I take a peek at my little sister's dream?" You wrestled with this question every night. On one hand, you had an almost obsessive attachment to your sister, but on the other, you knew peeking into the dreams of someone so close felt wrong. "But I really want to see it." The thought sprouted in your mind like wild weeds, quickly spreading through your heart. "Maybe... just one look?" Tempted, you began searching for your sister's dream in the space. It didn't take long. Unlike the other white, empty dreams, hers was crystal-clear and shimmered in rainbow hues.]

["If she says something bad about me in the dream, I'll just pretend it's not real." "If she says something good about me in the dream, I'll take it as her true feelings from her subconscious!" Having reassured yourself with this logic, you carefully reached out to touch the dream—and in the next instant, your consciousness was pulled into it.]

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["Dear Onii-chan, Kitagawa Ryo! It's me, Ichinose Honami. It's been two weekends since you moved away. I'm really unhappy right now, so I hope you're not feeling happy when you read this letter. If you're happy, you won't understand how sad I am."]

["Actually, what makes me even sadder is that I can't go to your house and tell you this in person. I have to write it in a letter, and by the time you get it, I might have already forgotten why I was upset. And by the time you reply, I might have something entirely new to tell you."]

["I really don't like writing letters. I'd rather look at your face, look into your eyes, and say these things directly to you."]

Sakayanagi Arisu sighed and pressed a hand to her forehead as she read the letter from Ichinose Honami.

"Why am I the one replying to this again?"

"Because it was you, ojou-sama, who insisted on taking on the role of his 'little sister,'" the old butler responded respectfully, bowing slightly in his pristine suit. "I thought replying to the letter yourself might help you better understand the girl's feelings and perform the role more convincingly."

"Is that so...?"

Sakayanagi Arisu, who considered herself a genius, hadn't been interested in much lately, but this "Kitagawa Ryo" had sparked a small curiosity. She reread the letter again. From a literary standpoint, it was what you'd expect from a ten-year-old: riddled with spelling errors and occasional grammar mistakes. But emotionally, it was sincere.

"Since I've taken your place, I'll give you a dream to compensate."

She gripped the pen tightly.

"Don't wake up."

Quickly, she wrote a response as Kitagawa Ryo, expressing how much he missed Ichinose Honami and hinting at a desire to write more often. At the end, she even added bluntly: "I really do love Ichinose Honami the most!"

And so, over the next three years, she continued exchanging letters with Ichinose Honami this way.

"Flustered because a boy in your class confessed to you? Ah, he should be in junior high by now too... timing fits."

Arisu unfolded the letter, an impish idea forming in her mind.

"I like you. Even though it's been three years since we last saw each other, it's precisely because of the distance that I've come to understand my feelings."

"I still can't see you yet, but... would you become my girlfriend, Ichinose Honami? Would you become Kitagawa Ryo's girlfriend?"

Sakayanagi set the pen down, rested her head on one hand, and tapped the desk with the other as she chuckled softly.

For some reason, she didn't feel as gleeful as she expected.

Instead, when she wrote that final sentence, her chest throbbed faintly.

It must've been her imagination.

That's what she told herself.