White House—Origin

My name is Hara.

This is my name, and it is also my code name inside the White House. As for why my surname is Uesugi—that was told to me by the person who brought me out.

Later, I learned some information from their idle chatter.

"This kid is so pathetic. The Uesugi family went bankrupt years ago. Because of those things, the person in charge committed suicide, and all the other participants were locked up."

"Isn't that the truth? When I heard this kid was from the Uesugi family, I was shocked too. Sigh, I wonder what will happen to this child in the future?"

"Why do you care so much? How much do we even get paid a month? Don't worry about things that don't concern you."

"That's true."

It was also at that time that I learned my name was Uesugi Hara.

And then I regretted coming out; I should have just kept squatting inside.

Although I grew up in the White House since I was a child, I was different from most of my peers; my emotions were naturally very rich.

Most of them, however, had long since become emotionless machines through the training in the White House.

Of course, there were a small number of people who still had some lingering emotions, for example—

"Hara, do you like carrots? I don't."

The one speaking was the girl in front of me, whose code name was Yuki.

She pointed at the carrots on her tray and asked me if I liked them.

"I wouldn't say I like them, just that I don't hate them."

I really had no interest in carrots; if she were talking about something sweet, I could give her a definite answer.

"I see. Kiyotaka, do you like them?"

Kiyotaka ignored her.

I nudged him with my elbow from the side.

He paused before speaking: "Carrots contain one of the essential nutritional components that humans must ingest."

"I see, so do you like them?" Yuki asked again.

He was silent for a moment, then answered: "I don't know."

"Oh." Yuki's voice was tinged with disappointment.

"Hara, do you want to eat these?" She suddenly looked up at me with an innocent expression, holding the carrot she had taken a bite of toward me.

"Your saliva is on it." I frowned in disgust.

"Oh." She obediently pulled it back and pointed at the untouched carrots on her plate. "Then what about these? Do you want them?"

I glanced at the surveillance camera in the corner, unsure of what the consequences would be if I accepted.

So I pursed my lips at her: "Kiyotaka just said that carrots have essential nutrients. If you don't eat them, what will you do if you can't keep up with the training later and get eliminated?"

"Ah? I don't want to be eliminated!" She panicked as soon as she heard that and bit off the carrot on her chopsticks, though her little face scrunched up—it was clear that eating it wasn't easy for her.

Hmm... a little... cute?

"Cute" is an adjective from books; it should be quite appropriate to use it here, right? I thought.

After the meal, Yuki wandered around the small classroom, walking in circles.

When she walked in front of me, she suddenly fell toward me with a "wow."

Kiyotaka, who was next to us, was about to reach out to help, but after catching a glimpse of my movement, he silently pulled his hand back.

After Yuki got up, her eyes were wide and round.

Kiyotaka analyzed calmly from the side: "Falling on flat ground, that's very strange."

While I pointed at her and laughed from the side, "Hahaha, Yuki, you're too clumsy."

"Is this an accumulation of fatigue? No... it doesn't look like it." Kiyotaka continued to analyze.

"Hmm... I don't feel tired, so why did I fall? It's a bit strange." Yuki also tilted her head in thought.

Perhaps hearing my laughter, a look I had never seen before suddenly appeared on the girl's face.

I stopped laughing abruptly and looked at her in disbelief.

Kiyotaka also paused, a flash of surprise in his eyes—Yuki was smiling.

Yuki also felt it was incredible.

Yes, she was smiling.

This was the second person in this batch who could show such an expression. It wasn't the kind I usually forced onto their faces with my hands; this was an emotion welling up from the heart.

"Just now... I..." Yuki touched her own face, her eyes full of confusion and bewilderment.

"That's right, it's a 'smile'." I looked at her, my tone becoming serious. "Yuki, you just smiled."

Later, as the training became increasingly difficult, I discovered a problem: as long as someone could easily reach the goal, the difficulty would be raised the next time. So, I began to hide a portion of my strength.

I wanted to tell Kiyotaka about this, as his strength was also very high, but our every move was under the eyes of those people, and there was no way to talk about it.

So I could only pray that he would also discover this problem.

Fortunately, he did.

Although the two of us were called in for a talk afterward—or rather, an interrogation—to ask why we had gone easy on the others.

But thanks to our wits, we easily fooled those who called themselves instructors.

Yet even if we could hold back, those who were meant to be eliminated would still be weeded out in this chase.

All sorts of courses.

Combined with VR for general knowledge instruction.

Day after day, year after year.

The repetitive days seemed endless. In a world with almost no rest, we were drilled over and over again.

There was nothing left to say. No matter how complex or tricky the difficulty, the tasks remained the same.

Tomorrow, the day after, the day after that... repeated again and again. Once you were caught by that elimination line, you had no choice but to leave.

"--Unqualified!"

The instructor stood in front of Yuki, his voice as flat as usual.

"Ho, how could this be..." Yuki's voice trembled as she collapsed to the floor.

Nothing is impossible. Faced with a constantly rising passing bar, someone is bound to be eliminated. It just so happened that this time, it was Yuki's turn.

"Stand up." The instructor's voice remained devoid of emotion.

Actually, leaving this place isn't so bad, or at least that's what I think.

But Yuki didn't see it that way. To her, the instructor's declaration meant losing her status in the White House, and she didn't want to lose that identity.

"No! I... I... don't want to!"

"I'll say it again, stand up!"

"Please, give me one more chance..." Yuki resisted the instructor's grip desperately. "My, my score was indeed low, but I passed yesterday's physical ability class! And the score... it was only a 2-point difference! I will study hard, I will definitely pass the next exam!..."

But no matter how she cried and begged, the result would not change.

She was short by 2 points this time; next time, as the difficulty increased, the gap would only grow wider.

Even if they let her go this time, she would still be eliminated later.

The instructor ignored her and glanced toward the door.

Immediately, several more instructors entered, looking as if they intended to take her away by force.

"No! Don't!" Yuki struggled to shake off the arms grabbing her, scurrying toward Kiyotaka and me in a panic.

"Save me! Kiyotaka! Gen! Save me! I don't want to leave!" She cried out to us for help.

I exchanged a look with Kiyotaka, then shielded Yuki behind me.

But Kiyotaka didn't react; to him, Yuki was no longer qualified to stay here.

"Yuki, leaving this place isn't a bad thing." I looked at her, feeling a pang of sympathy.

"No! I don't want to leave! Please, save me..."

By now, the instructors had surrounded us.

"Wait a moment!" I slapped away the hand an instructor reached out with.

"You dare to resist!"

"Smack--" A slap landed on my face, and I was knocked to the ground.

"Gen!" Yuki grew anxious, looking as if she were about to fight back.

I raised my hand to hold her back; we couldn't fight back now, absolutely not.

I could have dodged it, or even countered, but that would only have made things worse.

"Please wait--" I climbed up, continuing to shield Yuki behind me, and raised my voice. "Yuki's physical condition has been off since this morning! Her poor performance might be because she's unwell!"

Just as I was about to continue, I was grabbed by the collar.

"Adjusting one's condition is part of one's ability. Do you think making excuses like this is useful? Besides, I didn't see anything unusual about her this morning." The instructor glared at me.

"That is true. But if it is an unpredictable situation, that is a different matter." At this moment, another instructor nearby suddenly spoke up.

"Unpredictable?" The instructor holding my collar let go.

The other instructors gathered around and began to observe Yuki's condition. I patted Yuki's hand, signaling her not to be nervous and to cooperate with their examination.

"She's actually bleeding? Where is she injured... ah, so that's what it is."

"She seems to have a bit of a fever, too. It can indeed be considered poor physical condition."

"Take her to the infirmary first. We will decide whether she is to be eliminated after a detailed examination."

As Yuki was led out of the classroom, she looked at me while crying. I met her gaze and nodded, a gesture of comfort.

The instructor gave me a meaningful look: "I'll let it slide this time, but don't do it again."

I didn't speak, remaining silent.

But in the end, Yuki never came back.

She had been eliminated after all.

After Yuki left, my days became incredibly boring—there was no one left to talk to.

The others were all emotionless husks; chatting with them was completely pointless.

I don't know when it happened, but there were only two of us left in the fourth generation.

Ayanokoji Kiyotaka and me.

We stayed together for a very, very long time, always fighting to a draw during sparring sessions; neither of us could eliminate the other.

It is worth mentioning that my record looked better than his; I had zero losses.

In other words, as long as I didn't choose to leave, Ayanokoji Kiyotaka would be stuck as the "eternal runner-up."

But later, everything changed.

I happened to overhear something from those people.

Ayanokoji Kiyotaka was the son of Ayanokoji Atsuomi.

"Kiyotaka, do you know that you're the son of Ayanokoji Atsuomi?" I asked him.

"I found out not long ago," he replied.

"I see. So, you should be called Ayanokoji Kiyotaka now?"

He remained silent, which I took as an admission.

I looked at him; he was still like a robot, devoid of any emotion.

I scoffed, "That man is truly heartless, sending even his own flesh and blood in here. What are you to him, anyway?"

Ayanokoji Kiyotaka didn't speak, maintaining his silence.

"Ayanokoji, you really are boring."

From that day on, I never called him "Kiyotaka" again.

I knew that other than blood, he and Ayanokoji Atsuomi had no other connection. But why did my training volume have to be higher than his?

Damn it, that hateful Ayanokoji.

"Ayanokoji, I'm tired," I said to Ayanokoji Kiyotaka, who was beside me.

"If you're tired, go to sleep," he replied expressionlessly.

"You know that's not what I meant."

He didn't say anything.

"Ayanokoji," I looked at him seriously, "I don't intend to play this game anymore. I've let you win for so long, so let me give you one last victory, shall I?" I said with a smile.

He turned his head to look at me, his eyes still devoid of even a ripple.

We locked eyes—was this a farewell? I suppose it was? At least, that's what I thought...

During our final spar, I glanced at him, gave an imperceptible nod, and was then knocked out by his punch.

When I woke up again, I was lying in the infirmary, cursing under my breath.

Damn it, Ayanokoji, you really hit hard.

The instructor stood nearby and said, "You have been eliminated."

"Oh."

I suppose I finally got to experience the same treatment that Yuki and the others had received back then, right?

At least, that's how I felt.

With this, Ayanokoji Kiyotaka was the only one left in the fourth generation.

He became the only person from the fourth generation to remain.

If you can't find the book title, try searching for the author; perhaps the name has just been changed!