Chapter 29: All In The Open (Lemon)

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Nagatoro: Y-Your past?

Me: Yes, my past. 

Nagatoro: Senpai, you don't need t-

Me: I want to. I've decided that you will be the first and last person I will share this with. 

Nagatoro: Didn't your ex know about it?

Me: I never told her. I don't think I ever trusted her enough to share this info. 

Nagatoro: O-Ok. 

Me: Have you ever heard Arisu call me a masterpiece?

Nagatoro: Yeah. She called you that when she was fighting me on her first day of school. I didn't know what she meant by it. I thought it might have some thing to do with how good you are as a chess player. 

Me: It doesn't have to do anything with chess. It's more like a nickname I was given

Nagatoro: Nickname?

Me: I guess I should begin from the very beginning, the first memories of my life. I'll answer any questions you have afterwards. And you can choose to believe it or not, Nagatoro. 

She looked puzzled as I sighed. 

Me: I was born in a facility encased in bright white...

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Flashback...

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...The only records of my existence were held in that facility. My fingerprints, and dental records were only visible in my father's main office, which was locked by a retina scanner, and 28 digit code.

I never knew who my mother was, and I probably will never know. The only evidence I have that proves her existence, is myself. 

When I was born, my father told me I didn't cry. Usually, babies cry in order to release pent-up gases in the body from the mother's womb. However, I instead did controlled breathing motions in order to alleviate the gases from my body, and breath on my own. It was at that moment, my father said I was special.  

In my early years, I would ask my father about mom, only to be met with a scoff and a cold stare. Of course, even at the mere age of 2 years old, I was already undergoing a strict regimen.

 Since I already knew how to walk after 6 months, my father helped to quicken the learning curve, so I would be able to run and walk perfectly by the time I was almost 2. 

I started going on a specific diet with the intent to build a strong core of development. Of course, I had no say in whether or not I would oblige. I was merely a child. 

Rigorous stamina and muscle training, memory and rational tests, minimalistic diet, and constant forms of correctional punishment. That was moreso how my first 6-7 years of my life went. I never complained, nor fidgeted, nor showed any sort of weakness. What little resistance I had prior to this was squashed through the training. I became a man that saw things in one color. Everything around me was the norm, and I had to adjust with it. 

Test after test, beating after beating, punishment after punishment, I was molded into what my father called 'The Whiteroom's Masterpiece.' 

When I hit 8 years old, I started to attend the Whiteroom's children educational unit. In this group were children from the hundreds of thousands of beneficiaries and sponsors of the Whiteroom. All entered cocky and uneducated, mocking and secluding me from the clicks they made during the duration of the program.

However, as the program continued, and the year went by, more and more dropped out. Anyone with academic scores lower than a 90 were targeted for punishment by the multiple guards. They mostly used electrical sticks with medium voltage, not enough to scar a child, but enough to wish it never happened again. 

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