On Kiyotaka Ayanokoji's face, which shouldn't have displayed any expression, his brow twitched slightly.
Subaru's answer was outside of Ayanokoji's expectations.
In this world, only Subaru's actions could frequently exceed Ayanokoji's anticipations. Ayanokoji was full of interest regarding Subaru's existence; he believed the latter might be his own kind, someone who should harbor thoughts similar to his own. Perhaps, in Subaru's heart, there was also the idea of competing with him. This was the conjecture in Ayanokoji's mind.
However, the other party's answer was diametrically opposed to his expectations.
"For me, you have no possibility of generating color. I don't want to waste too much time on you," Subaru said slowly, without a single ripple in his tone, as if the Ayanokoji before him was merely an insignificant existence.
"No possibility of generating color?" Ayanokoji repeated the sentence in a low voice, seemingly trying to understand the chill within it.
"You are just an empty shell, Ayanokoji."
There was likewise no emotion in Subaru's eyes. "It looks like you seem somewhat surprised by my answer."
Ayanokoji narrowed his eyes slightly. Indeed, for a moment just now, an emotion named 'surprise' had been generated in his heart. However, his face shouldn't have revealed any expression. Could Subaru perceive that negligible emotional change?
Come to think of it, to think that he would actually generate such an emotion. This was unprecedented. After coming into contact with Subaru, he had generated emotions. Ayanokoji had never thought before that he would one day have such feelings.
Ayanokoji narrowed his eyes slightly. He lowered his gaze, as if scrutinizing some strange foreign object that had just grown out of his body. It wasn't fear, nor was it rejection—what the White Room taught him was: any anomaly should be analyzed, classified, utilized, or eliminated. Emotions are inefficient; they are interference, things that need to be suppressed until they vanish during early training.
And he had indeed succeeded. At least until he met Subaru.
"...Empty shell," Ayanokoji repeated the word. His voice remained steady, yet it carried a certain rare rawness, as if tasting unfamiliar food. "Is this your observation conclusion, or your expectation?"
Subaru didn't answer immediately; he just leaned back against the chair.
"Is there a difference?"
"There is," Ayanokoji said. "If your observation conclusion is that I am an empty shell, that means you derived this attribute from my behavior, reactions, and choices. This is a verifiable, comparable judgment."
He paused. "But if this is your expectation—that you hope I am an empty shell, or you think I can only ever be an empty shell—then that is another matter."
"You care about my judgment," Subaru said. It wasn't a question.
Ayanokoji fell silent. Did he care? From a purely rational perspective, Subaru's judgment shouldn't carry any weight. He was just one of many samples in this school. Although his abilities were abnormal and his behavioral patterns hard to predict, starting from 'Kiyotaka Ayanokoji's goal,' Subaru's evaluation possessed no practical value.
It wouldn't affect his deal with Sae Chabashira. It wouldn't affect his plan to observe the secular world and verify his father's errors. It wouldn't affect any established goals. So, by the standards of the White Room, he shouldn't care.
However—he had indeed felt surprised just now. It wasn't a strategic adjustment after a calculation error, nor a re-evaluation caused by insufficient information. It was pure, logically unattributable—surging up from the depths of the self he had suppressed for over a decade—surprise. Then came confusion. And then, this 'something' right now that even he couldn't name, slowly spreading in his chest.
"...I don't know," Ayanokoji finally said. This was the second time tonight he had spoken this phrase. For a perfect creation graduated from the White Room, to say 'I don't know' twice in the same conversation without intentionally hiding anything was already a severe system anomaly.
"I don't know if I care, or if I am just collecting data, attempting to understand your logic of judgment, so that in the future—"
"Don't say inexplicable things here. I don't care about your situation." Subaru interrupted him. "In my eyes, you have no value."
"I originally thought we were the same kind, that you might even treat me as an enemy," Ayanokoji replied. "Because we had a divergence on handling the issue of Kikyo Kushida. Manufactured from different systems, endowed with abilities surpassing ordinary people, and also stripped of something... that ordinary people have. I thought you came to this school, like me, searching for some kind of proof."
"But I was wrong." He looked at Subaru. In the depths of those eyes that always lacked emotion, something extremely subtle seemed to be cracking. "You aren't searching for proof. You are searching for... something that can make you 'look forward' again."
"And I, in your eyes, am not that thing."
Subaru didn't deny it. "That's right. You aren't, and you cannot be. Ayanokoji, you seem to be expecting something. Are you expecting a chance to fight me?"
"I do indeed have such a thought. I have never been serious. As long as I am serious—"
"Do you think you can win at everything?"
And just at this moment, Subaru's tone suddenly became incomparably cold. Beneath this coldness, it was even filled with killing intent. Ayanokoji instantly went on alert. Did Subaru want to make a move against him in this place?
Come to think of it, the dormitory was indeed the best place for a duel. After all, there wouldn't be surveillance cameras or other things here. But right at that moment, the killing intent on Subaru suddenly vanished. This made Ayanokoji feel a bit strange.
"Ayanokoji, you are indeed a special guy, proficient in quite a few martial arts... But that doesn't mean you are invincible. In the end, you are just a human, an ordinary human," Subaru said slowly.
He had probably experienced Return by Death many times. How many times? Subaru couldn't remember clearly anymore. Compared to his total number of Returns by Death, everything else was somewhat not worth mentioning.
Ayanokoji was indeed not someone an average person could deal with. His combat ability could even be said to override that of average special forces soldiers—however, this didn't mean Ayanokoji couldn't be defeated. Inside the school, even Ayanokoji couldn't kill people at will. This prevented Ayanokoji from unleashing one hundred percent of his strength.
And on another aspect—that was that Ayanokoji, in the end, was merely an ordinary human. The Subaru of the past had encountered opponents who were almost impossible to defeat. Reinhard.
But Reinhard was someone loved by the world, possessing every kind of Divine Protection. He was invincible in the true sense. Compared to Reinhard, Ayanokoji couldn't even be counted as an ant.
"Ayanokoji, you are far from as strong as you think," Subaru said to him.
Ayanokoji looked at Subaru. He didn't know why the other party would suddenly make such a judgment. It was as if he had suddenly confirmed something. Not a conjecture, not a probe, not a deduction based on observation—but a more absolute certainty, akin to a known fact. Just like... just like he had already fought him in some place Ayanokoji didn't know about. And more than once.
Ayanokoji's brain instantly called upon all available data and memories. Subaru might be strong—being able to beat Miyabi Nagumo into that state meant he definitely couldn't be an ordinary person. But that level shouldn't be enough to defeat him. Subaru knew something. Some things he didn't know. Some things... about himself.
"You've fought me? No, I don't have such memories. Have you ever seen me in the White Room?"
Naturally, the so-called Return by Death did not exist in Ayanokoji's worldview. The only explanation he could think of was that Subaru had once been to the White Room. And had seen him take action inside the White Room. Did he deduce from the intelligence back then that the current him couldn't win?
This was somewhat unreasonable.
"You said just now that I am far from as strong as I think," Ayanokoji's voice was calm. "Why do you think that?"
"I'm just stating a fact. If you want to verify it here, I won't stop you either."
"Then," Ayanokoji paused, "Are you telling me that no matter what I do, I cannot defeat you?"
Subaru didn't answer immediately. He leaned against the back of the chair, his gaze passing over Ayanokoji to look at the deep night outside the window. The low hum of the air conditioner continued, like some tireless background noise.
"No," he said.
"No?"
"I am telling you," Subaru withdrew his gaze and looked at Ayanokoji. "You always thought you were strong because you have never met a truly strong opponent. Here with me, you are nothing."
Ayanokoji didn't speak.
"True strength isn't how many people you can defeat, nor how many martial arts you can master, nor in how many environments you can survive." Subaru's tone remained flat, but every word was like a nail. "True strength is how many times you are willing to endure death for a certain thing."
"Death?" Ayanokoji couldn't understand the other party's words. Death? He spoke as if Subaru had died before.
Subaru's voice had no undulation from beginning to end; those eyes were even darker than Ayanokoji's. "'I have never been serious'... So when you stand in front of me and talk about fighting me with that tone—"
He paused. "Do you know what I want to do?"
Ayanokoji didn't answer.
"I want to laugh."
The corners of Subaru's mouth curved up slightly. That wasn't a smile; that was something more complex and sorrowful than a smile. "You are like a child who just learned to walk, telling a marathon runner, 'I have never run seriously; if I get serious, maybe I can win.'"
"You don't know how long that road is. You don't know how deep those pains are. You don't know that those moments you think you 'weren't serious' are actually the daily life others exchanged for with countless deaths and full-force effort."
Ayanokoji remained silent; he still couldn't understand Subaru's words. Had he experienced... events close to death? This was the only guess Ayanokoji could make.
Looking at Ayanokoji's expressionless face and the trace of doubt in his eyes, Subaru suddenly felt very tired. Not physical tiredness—that kind of fatigue had long since exceeded the limits of physical perception during the countless loops of death. It was a deeper fatigue, almost integrated with his very existence.
Every time, it was like this. People came with expectations, thinking they could understand something, thinking they could become something, thinking they were different from others. Then, they would stop at a certain moment, look at him with that confused gaze, and ask the same questions.
"Why?"
"How do you know?"
"What have you experienced?"
It was as if the answers to these questions could let them understand the existence named Natsuki Subaru standing before them. But they would never understand. Because they hadn't died. They hadn't truly, thoroughly, died over and over again.
"Ayanokoji." Subaru spoke, his voice returning to its usual flatness. That emotion, which was close to sorrow and had flashed by just now, had been retracted back into the bottomless darkness.
"You seem to still be trying to understand me, using those analytical methods you learned from the White Room, using your observation of human nature, using your logic and reasoning."
He paused. "But have you ever thought—maybe I am simply not something you can understand?"
Ayanokoji didn't speak.
"I'm not saying I'm complicated, or that I'm mysterious," Subaru continued. "I'm saying, we are simply not the same kind."
Ayanokoji's eyelashes trembled slightly. He wanted to refute, but when the words reached his lips, he found he couldn't say anything. Because Subaru was right.
He didn't know what Subaru had experienced; it was as if he had emerged from some abyss. The only thing he could be sure of was that the abyss truly existed. Right behind those eyes of Subaru's.
Subaru was like a monster that had crawled out of hell.
"So, back to your previous question." Subaru leaned back against the chair, his posture casual, as if the words just now were merely casual chit-chat. "You want to fight me? You want to prove you are stronger than me? You want to see if you can win when you get serious?"
His tone had no undulation, but every question was like a nail, driven into the layer of ice in Ayanokoji's heart that had just begun to loosen.
"I can tell you the answer."
Subaru paused.
"Kiyotaka Ayanokoji. No matter if you are serious or not, no matter what method you use, no matter how long you prepare—"
"You absolutely cannot beat me."
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