Ordinary Enrollment Day (1)

On an April morning, I packed my bag and locked the door to the house that had accompanied me through a fulfilling half-month. Today was the entrance ceremony for Tokyo Metropolitan Nurturing High School, I supposed. I ruffled my disheveled hair, ready to take the bus.

But speaking of which, I still had no friends out in the outside world. Even though I'd run into unexpected incidents, nothing had really progressed further.

Why hadn't I left a single contact method in the end?

The imagined manga-style plot of meeting someone, exchanging contacts, and naturally falling in love—none of it existed at all.

Though leaving contacts would've been useless for me anyway, since for the three years at school, unauthorized leave or contact with the outside world was prohibited.

But me not being able to reach them and them not giving me their info were two completely different situations.

Disappointment was there no matter what, but at least I'd gained something unique.

My body swayed unconsciously with the bus's motion as I watched the number of young people in high school uniforms gradually increase. I paid them no mind, my consciousness drifting out over the vast ocean beyond the window.

These past few days, I'd been pondering what exactly determines a person's ability.

Is it their potential? Or their effort?

Sakayanagi Arisu said that geniuses are those whose potential itself is high enough that when they put in effort and reach their limits, because their potential is inherently high, they naturally reach the limits of humanity—what we call geniuses.

I reserved my opinion on that.

But before that, allow me to briefly state my view:

I don't deny that the biggest difference between a genius and an artificial genius might be the ceiling of innate talent.

Of course, that also depends on each person's definition of genius.

Many people's definition of genius seems a bit vague and general—like when a child accomplishes things that only excellent adults can do, someone might praise them with words like "What a genius."

It's perfectly fine to simply use "genius" as praise for someone you find incredible.

But if I were to judge, can someone who merely reaches where predecessors have gone through repeated practice really be called a genius? "Artificial genius" would be a more fitting label.

Though I'm that kind of person too—just an artificial genius who learns the various conclusions that predecessors in each field have experienced and researched.

As for what I consider a true genius...

Probably someone with exceptional creativity. If I had to give an example, "da Vinci" is the closest person to a genius in my mind.

Because he didn't just break through within a single field—from that perspective alone, he crushes me. After all, I merely studied everything, while he alone carved his own path in an unexplored desert.

Moreover, for his time, da Vinci achieved remarkable accomplishments in a considerable number of fields.

Not only outstanding in learning, but also using his own ability to break through where predecessors had stopped—someone like that can be called a genius. Only those with higher talent can glimpse the opportunity ahead of their peers.

But that only counts as a genius in one aspect. I wouldn't lump it broadly under "genius." Only someone who achieves this in all fields could truly be called a genius.

But does such a human really exist? Perhaps if the brain were developed to its utmost, it might be possible.

It might sound stiff and hard to grasp, but maybe it's just the foolish ramblings of my own mind.

If you try to understand it by my ranking, it's not that complicated: Ordinary person → Artificial genius in one field (like the earlier example of someone outstanding in one area but without creating their own path) → Artificial genius (all students in the White Room are forced toward this peak; up to the fourth generation, only I and Kiyotaka have reached it) → Genius in one field → Genius.

But this is just my opinion. If you insist on defining genius as simply an outstanding person, that's perfectly fine too.

This is something I inadvertently realized, or perhaps touched upon—maybe it's a way to defeat me?

An unexpected blow from outside knowledge, born of solitary reflection, that brings me to defeat—is it too early to start guarding against that now?

But even reaching our level is extremely rare, so I'll keep it buried for now.

Still, maybe I'll set aside some space in my heart for these thoughts.

As I thought this, the packed bus stopped at a station. I was glad I'd boarded early and could enjoy my seat leisurely when an elderly woman got on. She looked frail in the swaying, crowded carriage. I glanced at her, then looked away, inadvertently noticing a woman in a suit who seemed to be weighing whether to speak.

I acted decisively, cutting off her casting time:

"Ma'am, please take my seat."

Getting caught up in the center of an incident wasn't something I wanted to see.

I wasn't a recluse, but I didn't want to be bogged down by trivial matters. If it was just this level, I figured it was fine.

Of course, that depended on my mood.

I'd act as I pleased—I would affirm and understand my own worth more than anyone else.

The woman seemed not to have expected someone else to speak first. She hesitated briefly, then turned away.

My main reason for giving up my seat was simply to avoid a pointless argument or quarrel over a small seat. The elderly woman sat down and thanked me. I waved slightly to indicate it was nothing.

I'd planned to zone out for a while, but someone spoke to me.

The one addressing me was a girl in a school uniform, with pink-gold hair and a sweet smile.

She was far too cute...

That was practically cheating, if cuteness went this far.

The eye-catching sin beneath her bow made me unable to look away for a moment, but I restrained myself and averted my gaze to avoid being mistaken for a boy in the throes of adolescent stirrings.

"Hello, are you also a student at Nurturing High School?"

"Yes."

"Ah, that was a pretty dumb question, wasn't it? We're wearing similar uniforms."

She lightly patted her own head, then turned her gaze back to me.

"It seems coming here was really the right choice—my classmates are full of kindness! Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Ichinose Honami, a first-year at Nurturing High School. Pleased to meet you."

"Hajime Kashima. Pleased to meet you."

That said, I wondered if my giving up the seat just now had been misunderstood by her. While I didn't deny it was a good deed, the girl before me clearly took it very seriously.

"If you hadn't given up your seat back there, I might have tried persuading a few people sitting nearby."

She tapped her cheek cutely.

"It was just a small gesture."

"Even if it was just a small gesture, it's obvious that you stood up while everyone else was hesitating."

Being able to come to this school really is fortunate—that feeling of hers was conveyed to me plainly.

I responded with a smile, and for some reason, she seemed a little dazed.

At my questioning look, she averted her eyes, flustered.

Just as I was pondering her strange reaction, I suddenly felt the bus, which had been running smoothly, brake sharply.

I steadied my body to maintain balance.

But unfortunately, it seemed not everyone could manage that.

The Ichinose-san beside me, caught off guard, was pulled forward by the inertia of the sudden stop.

She collided straight into my chest.

Her soft body pressed against mine.

I... got hit.

She seemed a bit tense, her hands tightly gripping my waist.

"Thank you—I didn't expect the bus to suddenly... but it's also because I wasn't paying attention and lost my footing. I'm really sorry."

Her pretty face flushed pink as she lowered her head, pulling away from my embrace to stand upright.

"We sincerely apologize, dear passengers. A cat suddenly darted onto the road, forcing an emergency stop."

The driver bowed deeply toward the cabin, but no one blamed him for it.

The pink-haired girl before me frankly apologized to me, feeling sorry simply because she had lost her balance and bumped into me.

How cute.

Soon, the bus arrived at the destination. I got off with her and walked toward the school grounds.

"Hmm, this school is unexpectedly splendid."

"After all, it's a school backed by national support—it makes sense."

Standing at the school gate, I nodded in agreement as well.

"If you'd like, how about we go check the class assignments together?"

Ichinose suggested with a smile.

I was planning to check them anyway, so receiving an invitation from the girl before me was a bit unexpected.

But thinking back to what happened on the bus, this might just be how she treats her classmates.

A frank and cute girl—that was the impression she gave me.

I nodded and started walking toward the notice board. Suddenly, someone came up from behind, hurriedly brushing past me and bumping into me.

Even though she was a girl, her physical strength was really something else.

She didn't look back, only offered an apology as if to the air.

Her voice was calm, carrying a sense of indifference, and she walked away like that.

Her long black hair hung behind her, swaying with the fluttering leaves in the wind.

"How could she be like that? She bumped into Hajima-kun and still apologized so insincerely."

"It's fine. There's no need to make a big deal out of such a small thing."

I waved my hand with a smile and led Ichinose toward the notice board.

Standing in front of the board, I searched for my assigned class, only to find a familiar name.

Sakayanagi Arisu.

Why is she here?

Well, I couldn't exactly say it was surprising—an entrance exam of this level was no challenge for her at all.

But meeting someone I knew in a completely unfamiliar environment felt pretty good, emotionally speaking.

Was this... fate, I suppose?

"Hajima-kun! What a coincidence~ We've been placed in the same class!"

Ichinose stood beside the Class B first-year roster, smiling brightly as she pointed at my name.

Morning sunlight spilled across her face, and a faint, elegant fragrance drifted in from somewhere on the spring breeze, the April cherry blossoms intertwining with her pink-gold hair.

The girl was nestled in the midst of it all.

For a moment, I couldn't tell whether she was the one adorning this beautiful scene, or if it was her presence that made it so flawless.

My heart stopped abruptly, then began to pound.