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COTE : Is Talent Everything? (Rewrite)-Chapter 147 - 143: The Counterfeit Boy Part 2
Chapter 147 - 143: The Counterfeit Boy Part 2
"...Huh?"
Shirou's face froze as if time had stopped. A few seconds of silence passed.
"Wh...What are you talking about? This isn't the time for jokes... right?"
Though visibly shaken, he seemed to take my words as a joke, forcing a strained smile.
"H-Hachiman making a joke? That's a first! But if your first joke is gonna be like this... your sense of humor needs work."
"..."
"Our dream is finally coming true. This isn't the time for jokes like that."
"..."
"...Do you know what you wanna do first when we get outside?"
"..."
"I wanna try cake and ice cream. I heard they're super sweet. You'd wanna eat them too, right? Let's have some together."
"..."
"Let's go to the places we talked about yesterday. We'll explore the outside world together—not in VR, but for real."
"..."
"Let's have fun. Not like in this facility—just playing, just enjoying ourselves."
"..."
"I'm sure our lives are gonna be amazing from now on. Every day will be painted in colors other than white."
"..."
"It wouldn't mean anything... without you."
"..."
"...Hachiman."
"..."
"Aren't you gonna answer me?"
His pale eyes, trembling with distress, dropped to the ground.
Shirou knew. No—he was trying not to know, averting his gaze from the truth.
"Shirou."
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Going to the outside world together—that was the promise between me and Shirou, the one that had kept me going.
Meeting Shirou changed me. Without him, I would've been eliminated long ago. I survived this long for the sake of that promise.
But—
"I'm not going. I've already made up my mind."
Shirou's shoulders twitched.
No—not twitched. Shook.
"...What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
His voice was hoarse, laced with disbelief.
"Ngh—!"
But the next instant, Shirou grabbed my collar with a speed I'd never seen even in combat training. His grip was fierce, his expression burning with anger as he glared at me.
"What the hell is that...!? Hey, Hachiman...!"
"Shirou, I—"
"There's...! There's gotta be a reason, right? That's it, isn't it...?"
Desperately, he searched for something—anything—to hold onto.
"Right, right—did the instructors hear us talking yesterday? Did they tell you not to go outside?"
"No."
"Then what happened!? Tell me! We can figure it out together—you and me, we can...!"
"I decided not to go of my own will. No one influenced me."
This wasn't someone else's choice. It was mine—driven by nothing but my own curiosity.
"...Why?"
Tears welled in Shirou's eyes as he bit his lip, struggling to hold them back.
"WHY!?"
Despite the tremor in his voice, his grip on my collar only tightened.
"We promised...! We promised we'd go to the outside world together...! Just yesterday, you said you'd come with me...!"
"I've been thinking about it since then. But today, after hearing Kiyotaka's words, I made my decision. I'm not going."
"What does Kiyotaka have to do with this!? This is our promise!"
"What the hell are you two doing!?"
Several instructors, drawn by the commotion, rushed in. But Shirou didn't even glance at them, his eyes locked on me.
"Let go of him! Shirou!!"
Assuming I was the victim since Shirou was the one gripping me, they tried to pull him away. But with strength unimaginable for a child, Shirou resisted.
"We've been together this whole time!!"
"I... I cared about you too. The promise mattered to me."
"Then why!? I only survived this long because of my promise with you!!!"
Whether it was the instructors' efforts or his own exhaustion, Shirou's grip finally loosened, and he was gradually pulled away.
"Calm down!!"
It took multiple instructors to pin him to the ground. Even then, he kept struggling, forcing them to hold him down with all their strength.
"Sorry, Shirou."
"I don't want your apologies... Just tell me why. Talk to me. Whatever it is, we can figure it out together...!"
"..."
"We're... best friends, aren't we...!?"
I crouched down to meet Shirou's eyes as he was restrained.
"We are best friends. That's not wrong. But I still can't go."
"Why...?"
"I can't tell you. It'd just hurt you."
"I'd rather be hurt than lose you!! If you're staying, then I'll stay too!!"
"No. I want you to be free. Because you're my best friend."
I had my path. Shirou had his.
"Let's say goodbye here. Let's each walk our own road."
With those final words, I turned my back on him.
"Hachiman! Wait—wait, please...! Please...!"
In that last moment, as he was dragged away, Shirou's face twisted in anguish, tears streaming down his cheeks.
Just like the eliminated children before him, he clung to something—pleading, begging.
"I'm sorry, Shirou."
I didn't look back. No matter how many times he called my name, I didn't spare a single glance at Shirou as the instructors took him away.
"Happy now?"
Once Shirou was gone, Kiyotaka approached me.
I didn't need to ask what he meant.
"...Who knows?"
"'Who knows'? You just cut ties with your best friend. That's all you have to say?"
"I don't know what I'm feeling. But... it hurts a little, I think."
All that remained in my chest was a faint bitterness.
I had chosen fleeting curiosity over my promise with Shirou. Maybe someday, I'd regret this decision.
I'd never speak to Shirou again.
I'd never talk about the outside world with him.
He might never call me his friend again.
Even so—I wanted to know.
What lay beyond this imitation?
What awaited at the end of this facility's education?
What was at the end of this pursuit of knowledge?
That was all I wanted.
And so, I would keep imitating Kiyotaka. I wanted to know my limits.
Because Kiyotaka—this textbook—was endlessly fascinating.
From that day on, Shirou was gone.
The fourth generation was now just me and Kiyotaka.
........
A year passed with just the two of us remaining.
One day, after finishing a written exam, we were summoned to the training hall for a slightly different curriculum.
Once we were assembled, the instructor began speaking.
"You two have demonstrated exceptional abilities in every field. Today, as the culmination of your training, you will participate in a special match."
A culmination? A special match?
Unfamiliar terms. I tilted my head in confusion.
Then, from the door at the back, a group of men in black suits filed into the room.
These were the instructors who had trained us in martial arts, judo, and other combat disciplines. Twelve of them entered, lining up in front of us.
"You will now engage in a practical combat exercise against multiple opponents. Each of you will face six."
Six opponents, each masters of different combat styles.
Following instructions, Kiyotaka and I moved to opposite sides of the training area.
Six adults stood in a row before me. One of them pointed toward the center of the room.
"Weapons are permitted for this match. Choose whichever you like."
An assortment of weapons—batons, wooden swords, and more—were displayed in the center.
But even if I could choose, nothing stood out as particularly necessary.
"I don't need a weapon."
"...What?"
"Bare hands are enough."
The instructor gave me a sidelong glance, almost exasperated.
"Pick a weapon. You'll regret it later if you don't."
"...Understood."
Reluctantly, I selected one—the first thing that caught my eye: a wooden sword.
Kiyotaka seemed to be in a similar situation, opting for a club.
"You've chosen your weapons?"
"Yes."
"Good. Come at us with the intent to kill. No—try to kill us. Otherwise, this is pointless."
"Understood."
A "practical exercise" with no restrictions on lethality, it seemed.
But where was the meaning in such a foregone conclusion?
"The special match will now begin. Begin!"
At the referee's signal, I gripped the wooden sword.
──────
A few minutes later.
──────
The last instructor collapsed, his leg shattered by my wooden sword.
I raised the sword for a final strike.
"STOP!! STOP IT!!"
The referee's shout froze my swing just before impact.
"What the hell...?"
The referee rushed over, checking the six instructors sprawled around me. All were unconscious—unsurprising after being battered relentlessly.
"Get them to the infirmary, now! You two—line up and wait!!"
Flustered, he barked orders. I returned to my starting position.
Kiyotaka was already there, having presumably done the same to his six opponents.
"What the hell was that?"
Once the instructors were carried off, the referee glared at us.
"Why did you go that far? There was no need to brutalize them like that."
I didn't understand the question. Kiyotaka and I exchanged glances, then answered simultaneously.
""You told us to try to kill them.""
He had heard the earlier exchange. What was there to reprimand?
"Tch... Today's curriculum ends here. Return to your rooms."
For a brief moment, the instructor's face twisted with something like fear.
──────
"...Another draw."
Back in my room, I sat on the bed, thinking.
Today's "special match" had ended the same way—Kiyotaka and I finishing at the exact same time. Even the referee's intervention had been simultaneous.
"Something's missing."
Our stats, our thought processes, our ability to handle others—all identical.
That was why I could never surpass Kiyotaka.
Over this past year, I had realized something:
This facility would break children's minds, break their bodies—but it would never let them die.
Even in combat training, matches were stopped the moment a victor was clear.
The curriculum grew increasingly brutal, but for Kiyotaka and me, it was exhausting—not torturous.
"In the White Room, we'll only ever be equals."
No matter how long we trained here, our abilities would remain perfectly balanced.
That was meaningless.
There was no point in staying.
We needed something to surpass each other—something this facility couldn't provide.
"...The outside world."
I looked up at the ceiling and understood.
──────
Suzukake watched Kiyotaka and Hachiman through the glass as they cleared the curriculum.
"Hachiman and Kiyotaka are this facility's masterpieces."
A subordinate standing beside him voiced the obvious.
It wasn't wrong.
As the sole survivors of the fourth generation, their abilities were unparalleled—the very symbols of the White Room's success.
"Once, I concluded that Kiyotaka and Hachiman were mutations."
"And now...?"
"I retract that. They do possess genuine talent."
The subordinate's eyes widened.
This meant Suzukake had finally deciphered the nature of their abilities.
"First, Kiyotaka. His strength lies in absorption."
"Absorption?"
"He excels at internalizing fundamentals, using repetition to generate endless adaptability. He grows limitlessly, perfectly acclimating to this facility. Kiyotaka is a genius of adaptation."
The explanation fit. Kiyotaka's early stats had been average, but his growth was undeniable.
"Hachiman is similar. Where Kiyotaka grows infinitely, Hachiman mimics him, reaching the same heights. As long as Kiyotaka exists, Hachiman's growth won't stop. He is a genius of imitation."
"I see. That makes sense."
"Now, my hypothesis."
Adaptation and imitation.
Considering these traits—
"As Kiyotaka grows without limit, Hachiman will strive to surpass him. But Kiyotaka will adapt, transcending even that. And Hachiman will catch up again. Do you know what this means?"
"...You can't be serious."
"Those two will push each other to greater heights—with no upper limit."
A cold sweat broke out on the subordinate's forehead.
The idea of these two monsters—already inhuman as children—growing infinitely was terrifying.
"Then... if Kiyotaka and Hachiman were to fight seriously, who would win?"
"Kiyotaka."
Suzukake answered instantly.
"As I've said before, Hachiman's talent depends on Kiyotaka's existence. An imitation can't surpass the original. ...But."
A thought crossed Suzukake's mind.
A mere imitation could never defeat the genuine article.
But—
"If the imitation were to surpass the original... then it would no longer be an imitation at all. It would be—"
He glanced at the two boys through the glass, then swallowed his words.
──────
It happened when I turned fourteen.
The instructors announced that the White Room would temporarily suspend operations, and Kiyotaka and I were to be relocated to another facility.
"Kiyotaka, you'll be going with Professor Ayanokouji. Hachiman, wait here. Kiyotaka, come with me."
As I waited in one of the White Room's rooms, Kiyotaka was the first to leave.
The reason for separating us was unclear, but it suited my purposes.
Once Kiyotaka and the instructor were gone, only I and a supervising instructor remained.
"Excuse me."
"What?"
I pointed at the instructor's shoes.
"Your shoelace is untied. It's dangerous—you should fix it."
"Ah... right."
As the instructor bent down to tie it, I looped my arm around his neck.
"Gh!? Wh-What the—!?"
I crossed my arms, applying pressure.
The instructor resisted, but from his crouched position, it was futile.
His flailing limbs soon went still.
To ensure he wasn't faking, I checked carefully—he was completely unconscious.
"Now then."
I left the room, heading for the exit.
I had scouted the facility's layout months ago. All I had to was follow the plan.
With no time to waste, I hurried down the hallway—
—when I spotted a child walking ahead.
Dressed in white, likely a student here. A fifth-generation candidate?
"Ignore them."
My escape would be discovered eventually. Whether this kid raised the alarm sooner or later didn't matter.
"––––––H-Hachiman... kun?"
"...!"
I had been about to sprint past, but the sound of my name made me stop and turn.
I didn't recognize this red-haired girl.
"How do you know my name? Who are you?"
"Ah, uh..."
Just that single question made her eyes shimmer with tears.
Her face was bright red as she stared at me, dazed.
"...Whatever."
I didn't have time for this. I turned to leave.
"W-Wait...!"
Her voice faded behind me as I ran.
She hadn't chased me, but her hand stretched out desperately toward me.
"––––––!!"
As I rounded the corner, her voice vanished completely.
One unexpected word lingered in my ears, but I dismissed it as my imagination.
──────"I love you."
As if a stranger would say something like that.
──────
For the first time in my life, I stepped outside the White Room.
The air was warmer than the climate-controlled facility, and the natural breeze against my skin was a new sensation.
The sun overhead burned so brightly I had to squint.
"So this is the outside world..."
We seemed to be deep in the mountains, surrounded by dense trees.
"I can't keep them waiting."
No time to marvel. I immediately started running east.
I had no idea where I was, but I pushed forward relentlessly.
After about fifteen minutes, I reached a road.
There, a black luxury car was parked, and a man stood beside it.
"It feels odd for me to say this, but I'm surprised you actually made it here."
"Honestly, I'm surprised too. It was a gamble."
We had never met before—not in person, not even in conversation.
But he had anticipated my escape, waiting here with a car ready.
"Let's get in the car. We'll talk more inside."
I had no reason to refuse.
As I got in, the man sat beside me—apparently not the driver.
The car began moving instantly, the scenery outside changing by the second.
"Ah, right. This is your first time in a car, isn't it?"
"I've experienced it in VR simulations."
"The real thing is better, don't you think?"
"Yes."
The man smiled at me, his gaze warm—as if looking at something precious.
"Let me introduce myself. I'm Narumori Sakayanagi. A sponsor of the White Room."
A sponsor. That explained how he had access.
"Sakayanagi-san, thank you for helping me, just as your message said."
"Don't mention it. I acted on my own accord—call it meddling. Though I was surprised by how you contacted me."
Meddling or not, his "meddling" was the reason I had planned my escape. I was grateful.
"Escaping that facility is unprecedented. Why did you do it?"
"Personal reasons. That's all."
I could've told him the truth, but I didn't yet understand Narumori Sakayanagi's full role in the White Room.
"No need to answer if you're not comfortable. You don't fully trust me yet, after all."
He smiled, seeing right through me.
"We have much to discuss, but let's wait until we're home. My daughter is eager to meet you."
"You have a daughter?"
"The same age as you. A bit of a troublemaker, but I hope you'll get along."
So his entire family was connected to the White Room.
The conversation lulled, and I gazed out the window until the car stopped in front of a house.
"Here we are."
"...Thank you."
He even opened the door for me.
As I stepped out, an enormous house came into view—far larger than any other in the area.
From inside, the sound of a cane tapping approached.
A girl with silver hair and large eyes emerged.
Petite but radiating an odd intensity.
"Let me introduce you. Hachiman-kun, this is my—"
"Father, please allow me to greet him myself."
The girl interrupted, and Sakayanagi-san stepped back with a wry smile.
She stepped closer, studying my face intently before smiling brightly and bowing.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Hachiman-kun. I am my father's daughter––––––Arisu Sakayanagi."
This was my first meeting with Arisu Sakayanagi.
──────
I think I was dreaming of the past.
A vivid dream—memories of that white facility flashing through my mind like a reel.
"Good morning. You're making a rare face so early."
"Am I?"
"Yes. A fleeting, pensive, almost disappointed expression."
"What kind of face is that?"
I stretched and sat up as she peered down at me.
"I was dreaming about the past."
"Oh? What a coincidence. I dreamed of the past as well. Perhaps it's because we slept together."
Her eyes narrowed with interest.
"What did you dream of, Hachiman-kun?"
"The White Room days."
Though I don't remember much, I added, and she giggled.
"Did you know? People dream of the past when they're feeling sentimental."
"What are you getting at?"
"I wondered if you were dwelling on what happened the other day."
Her smile remained, but her eyes missed nothing.
"It's over. No point regretting it now."
"Fufu, it seems my concern was unnecessary."
"If that's true, then you're the one being sentimental."
"I suppose so. This theory must be a myth."
With that, she––––––Arisu gently cupped my cheeks, bringing her beautiful face closer.
"That you chose me... That you're here by my side now... It makes me so happy."
"Maybe this is all a dream."
"If it is, I'll make it come true. Though, I suppose there's no need anymore."
Her smile softened.
"After all, Hachiman-kun is already mine."
True to her words, she kissed me—claiming me as her own.
──────
Author's Note:
By the way, this isn't a side story. It's a proper past arc that aligns with the main story.
So the final scene with Hachiman and Arisu might be a glimpse into the near future.
I originally intended to write about the Sakayanagi household, but this time, I ended with several mysteries still unresolved.
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