Chapter 272 – Ayanokoji's Father

The distance between the club building and the administrative building was short, so it didn't take long for the two to arrive. Likely due to it being a Saturday, the entire building was unusually quiet.

Taking the elevator to the top floor, Sakayanagi led the way effortlessly into the director's office area. Naturally, they didn't walk straight into Director Sakayanagi's office but instead entered the adjacent outer office where the secretary worked.

The layout was similar to that of large corporations—a spacious reception area where the secretary managed visitors, coordinated schedules, served refreshments, and awaited instructions from the boss inside.

If this arrangement was standard for large companies, it was no surprise that AN High School, built with enormous resources, would adopt the same setup. Director Sakayanagi was still inside his office, likely attending to work.

The outer office reflected understated luxury. Floor-to-ceiling windows provided an impressive view, a platinum chandelier illuminated the room, and three walls were adorned with artistic paintings that exuded refinement.

The secretary, recognizing Sakayanagi, escorted both of them to the seating area in the reception space. She quickly brought hot tea and refreshments to make them comfortable.

Once inside the heated environment, Sakayanagi returned the blazer to Yukio. She even enthusiastically poured him tea, her movements graceful and precise. "We'll need to wait a bit—Ayanokoji-kun hasn't arrived yet," she remarked with a calm smile.

After filling their cups, Sakayanagi reached into her pocket and retrieved a phone already connected to earphones. She placed one earbud into her ear and, without hesitation, extended the other toward Yukio.

Curious but unfazed, Yukio accepted the earbud and placed it in his ear. Almost immediately, he could hear the voices of two middle-aged men engaged in casual conversation. His gaze shifted to Sakayanagi, a touch of amusement flickering in his eyes.

"So… does this mean you've bugged your own father's office?" he asked wryly.

Sakayanagi, as composed as ever, met his question with her signature serene smile, though her gaze carried a faint glint of playful reproach. "Hardly. My father has always kept two phones in his office—one for external use and the other specifically for my direct access."

Yukio blinked in surprise, marveling at the convenience of having a father as the director. While it was plausible that Director Sakayanagi had set up this system purely to maintain easy communication with his daughter, Yukio suspected a deeper motive.

After all, as the director of a prestigious institution like AN High School, the elder Sakayanagi would often be privy to critical discussions and decisions within his office. This arrangement gave Sakayanagi the perfect cover to "eavesdrop" on these sensitive matters in a manner that seemed entirely legitimate.

Sakayanagi's convenient access to AN's secrets came with zero cost, a privilege afforded by her status as the director's daughter. It stood in stark contrast to Yukio's position—an outsider who had to painstakingly probe the system's boundaries or join the student council to extract information from Horikita Manabu.

The conversation playing through the earphones remained mundane, filled with pleasantries. A warm, middle-aged voice spoke of how long it had been since they last met and discussed vague military matters. The other voice belonged to a man whose tone was deep and imposing, carrying an air of arrogance and authority as if he were accustomed to commanding.

Their eavesdropping didn't last long. The outer office door opened once more, and Yukio instinctively glanced over to see Class D homeroom teacher Chabashira alongside Ayanokoji. Chabashira lingered outside, motioning for Ayanokoji to proceed alone.

The secretary promptly confirmed Ayanokoji's identity and led him into the inner office.

Meanwhile, Chabashira couldn't help but notice Yukio sitting casually alongside Sakayanagi, the director's daughter. Her mind raced, piecing together the implications. No wonder there had been subtle cooperation between Yukio's and Sakayanagi's classes during both the sports festival and the workplace trial.

'So that's the connection,' she thought grimly. 'Damn it, this makes pushing Class D to Class A even harder.'

Ayanokoji, however, seemed unfazed by the sight of Yukio and Sakayanagi together. Having already seen them interacting during the sports festival and the workplace trial, he wasn't surprised. What did catch his attention, though, was the peculiar timing of this meeting.

He brushed the thought aside, focusing instead on the task at hand. Stepping into the inner office, the sound of the door closing sealed off the outside world. Ayanokoji's gaze locked onto the man seated on the sofa.

The figure was a middle-aged man with an oily slicked-back hairstyle and a noticeably corpulent frame. His mere presence was imposing, radiating a gravity that filled the room. This man was none other than Ayanokoji's biological father, as well as the architect and overseer of the White Room project—Ayanokoji Atsuomi.

Yukio and Sakayanagi, still in the outer office, could clearly hear the exchange inside after a brief pause. The director's warm and polite voice broke the silence.

"Haha, Kiyotaka, is it alright if I call you that?" he began. "Today is Saturday, typically your day off as a student. The reason I asked you here is that your parent, Ayanokoji-sensei, has come to visit and would like to meet you."

Kiyotaka's response was as indifferent as ever, his tone devoid of any excitement or acknowledgment of familial bonds. "Director, if I'm not mistaken," he said flatly, "AN School enforces a strict rule of isolation from the outside world for three years. Parents are not allowed to visit, nor are students permitted to see them."

Though his words carried no apparent emotion, the implication was clear: why had this rule been broken for his father?

The director offered no immediate reply. Instead, Ayanokoji Atsuomi scoffed with disdain. "Rules have never been meant to constrain the actions of the strong. Have you still not grasped that fundamental truth?" His voice, sharp and laced with contempt, echoed through the room. "Have you regressed so much from staying in this childish place? Or have you been playing dumb for so long that you've truly lost your wits?!"

Outside, Yukio shook his head subtly. The tone of the conversation didn't resemble a father speaking to his son—it felt more like bitter adversaries clashing.

Kiyotaka, however, remained unfazed, his voice as steady and lifeless as before. "Playing dumb? Are you referring to the fact that I lost to Sakayanagi? That wasn't playing dumb—it was a genuine defeat."

But in the outer office, Yukio and Sakayanagi couldn't see what lay beneath Kiyotaka's calm tone. Inside, Kiyotaka's expression wasn't just detached—it was tinged with an unusual melancholy. His usually apathetic eyes carried a distant, unfocused haze, as though he were lost in a fog.

This wasn't his usual lethargy—it was a subtle but deep confusion. By all logic, Sakayanagi's victory over him should have been satisfying. It was a symbolic blow to Ayanokoji Atsuomi, evidence that the White Room was not as invincible as its founder believed. Yet Kiyotaka couldn't bring himself to feel triumphant.

Instead, he felt an inexplicable emptiness and uncertainty about his future. His plan had been straightforward: endure three years of low-profile student life, experience the fleeting joys of youth he'd only read about in books, and then return to the White Room.

But now, was there any point in going back? The White Room, once thought to be unmatched, no longer seemed as invincible. What was the purpose of returning to a place that no longer held its perceived superiority?

"Utter nonsense! Complete rubbish!" Ayanokoji Atsuomi's deep voice erupted, shaking with fury for the first time. It roared like a lion's bellow on the savanna, commanding an air of fearsome authority. "Just a mere student from AN School!"

"If you didn't hold back, that Sakayanagi would never have defeated you! There's no way she could surpass the ultimate masterpiece I painstakingly created from every conceivable method!"

His anger was palpable—raw and uncontained. He was livid, seething with rage. For the White Room, Ayanokoji Atsuomi had poured everything he had into its development. Years of effort, resources, and meticulous planning culminated in Kiyotaka, the so-called pinnacle of his creation. And yet, his masterpiece had been bested by a first-year student from AN School.

The humiliation was unbearable. News of Sakayanagi's victory over Kiyotaka had already spread, turning Ayanokoji Atsuomi into a laughingstock within the circles of those who once respected him. The more arrogant and confident he had been when establishing the White Room, the harsher the backlash when its failure became public knowledge.

Even worse, discussions among the higher echelons began to turn against the White Room's necessity. If AN School could achieve comparable results—or even outperform—it begged the question: why was the White Room still needed?

The White Room had become a money pit, draining resources and manpower with no tangible returns. Every comparison between it and AN School only highlighted its deficiencies.

This was why Ayanokoji Atsuomi had stormed into AN School today. He could not allow Kiyotaka to remain in this "mediocre" institution any longer. Letting him stay would risk further tarnishing his life's work—the White Room.

He was determined to remove Kiyotaka from this "farce" of an environment and double down on his training. In Atsuomi's mind, the only way to restore the White Room's reputation was for Kiyotaka to defeat Sakayanagi in a decisive rematch, proving once and for all that the White Room project was flawless.