Work Text:
Soulless
Perhaps, Ayanokouji perceived within mere seconds of the action, this was a mistake.
Ayanokouji knew that Rokusuke Koenji had narcissistic tendencies, perhaps to quite an extreme length as Koenji’s abilities to his analysis present him a challenge in both intellectual and physical capacities.
The abilities themselves were natural, his strength almost definitely developing with him as he grew and his intelligence apparent from an early age.
At the same time Koenji was from an extremely affluent background, though with no access to the internet past school approved websites and isolation from his childhood Ayanakoji had no interest in looking further into the Koenji conglomerate aside from the investments he made during the year between his escape from the white room and his enrollment in this school.
Growing up with abilities on par with the best of the white room, high social status as the heir of a multi-billion dollar company, and unchecked praise and adoration- was it surprising for such a person to develop an extremely narcissistic personality.
But it was also for that very reason that Rokusuke Koenji would not be able to defeat Ayanokouji Kiyotaka.
To put it simply, Koenji views himself as perfect from his strength to his appearance to his IQ everything from the tips of his hair to the toes of his feet.
And this illusion is a weakness he will never be able to overcome.
While Ayanokouji maintains an unrealistic level of strength throughout his body and mind following leftover remnants of the ‘education’ that nicknamed him the masterpiece, Koenji who prides himself on his superiority feels no need to maintain anything except himself.
To Koenji there is no need to improve, to interact with those beneath him, or to focus on anything except himself.
He only chases after what interests him, and class D as a whole does not interest him.
To him the expulsion of the weakest students was a matter of course, to him it did not matter if his class lost him the monthly allowance because his value was enough to receive money from connections in the upperclassmen, to him the only reason to participate in class D is to maintain his position of being above.
No one else except him mattered as no one else could challenge him.
Or rather, they had not mattered.
One tug
An impulse decision made to take advantage of Koenji’s narcissistic tendencies by slightly altering his perceived appearance in order to obtain his compliance and cooperation in the current situation- the current exam.
The current exam required Koenji’s cooperation, though Ayanokouji knew the man would not lower himself to perform less than perfectly and would not tolerate the thought of some other student holding the power to expel him over him, Koenji had already reacted outside of his expectations far too many times to let him out of his sight during this test.
Koenji was unpredictable during an exam where Ayanokouji already had less control over the results than he’d had since the year began, and that was dangerous.
Koenji was not one to be manipulated, to be controlled, to be used- he was far too intelligent to not recognize even the most subtle, indirect attempts.
And so Ayanokouji had abandoned a subtle approach as both words and actions failed him.
Koenji had dismissed him and moved to leave, so Ayanokouji had latched on to his sleeve.
A cause and an effect, now-
What would be the consequence?
*
To count the number of revelations a simple action had given Koenji would be pointless as each conclusion intertwined and connected to the others.
Koenji did not spare much thought for the others around him, for there was no need to- he had known early on that the class he’d been put in was beneath him and so he’d treated those around him much the same.
He did not care if those around him would be expelled, it did not matter to him if he ends up in class A or D in the end as his future was already set in stone- his purpose in this school was to make connections among those with potential and to play around with authority in an environment a slight bit more forgiving than his future occupation, so he only interacted with those who’d already proven themselves, who could give him some entertainment to crush rather than the pathetic beings he’d been falsely categorized with.
In conclusion it took him longer than he’d care to admit to notice the puppet strings dancing around in front of his face, not that he cared about them being present in the first place.
The wires, he knew, would not reach him, and any attempt to string him up would reveal the mastermind soon enough.
Of course he was right, of course the man behind the curtains would crawl out and reveal themself.
Koenji had had his suspicions he just had no desire to confirm them but just as suspected it was Ayanokouji asking him to comply, it was Ayanokouji standing before him and not anyone else, it was Ayanokouji asking for him to help the group and no one else all alone in the open field except for Koenji’s prey laying down dead at his feet.
And, in the end, it was Ayanokouji who latched onto his arm silent words hanging in the air.
This was all the confirmation that Koenji needed.
But this was not the revelation he was entertained by.
The blatant attempt to ask for compliance was not what he was interested in.
The plea for help, for participation, for action was not something he found fun.
It was the emotion leaking into the boy’s body language that he found fascinating.
Actions speak far louder than words, and having learned that at a young age surrounded by servants and Neanderthals itching to take advantage of his age and inexperience with sweet words attempting to hide their snake like tongues and sharp knives futilely, he knew how to listen quite well though he often never bothered to take in the information.
In Ayanokouji’s eyes he found no thoughts to give away, there was no twitch of an uncontrolled muscle throughout his body, and his hands would certainly never tremble holding the stability of a master surgeon- and yet his actions, his aura, his very being spoke differently.
Someone had broken this boy.
They had torn out every defense he had, torn down every false sense of safety he’d been born with, and had cornered him, held him down, beaten every instinctive action out of him.
This boy, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka, probably feels empty, what little survival instinct he has left helplessly disassociating every emotion he could feel until he is little more than a curled up empty shell.
Ayanokouji’s body was solid, standing upright, mind focused on surviving- on completing the task in front of him, calculating the future, and assimilating information.
There was no room to reflect, no room to look back, no room to feel.
Ayanokouji Kiyotaka was not moving, and yet in Koenji’s eyes he was trembling like a small child.
The silence, Koenji broke it.
“ Oh, I see.” Koenji laughed.
“ What do you see?” The bland tone did not waver or contain confusion, but at the same time Koenji knew that there was no comprehension in those words.
“ The true identity of the one who got dragon boy to settle down.”
The boy was silent, his face impassive, did he truly think his emotions were hidden like that- if anything they were even more apparent. Though that does raise the question of if he knows he still can feel, that the empty shell he knows is influenced by emotions he himself can not comprehend.
“ You do an excellent job in feigning ignorance,” most of the sheep would be, are, fooled by the impassive exterior, “ but the passion in your trembling arm tells me all I need to know.”
“ Sorry, but I think you’re imagining things that aren’t there.” So Ayanokouji isn’t aware, he does not know what emotions absently leak through, cannot comprehend what he feels at any moment, and yet he uses what little he knows to have those around him move.
It is a dangerous mindset, a sociopath manipulating an entire grade level stuck in a never ending loop of flight or fight trying desperately to thrive not knowing what that even means.
At the very least this school was probably the best for Ayanakoji outside intense rehabilitation programs that would probably cause the boy to spiral into insanity 99 times out of a hundred.
The tests, the special exams, and their class providing adequate and frequent enough challenges to distract him while social interactions and feigned monetary/living independence slowly acclimates him to society.
Ayanokouji Kiyotaka needs to feel in control, needs to feel secure, needs anonymity to feel safe otherwise he may lash out - at the same time he needs to be stimulated, to feel threatened, to have the familiar feel of a guillotine hanging above his head or he will become paranoid seeing threats where there are none and fighting back when he is the only one punching.
Whoever put him in this school knew exactly what they were doing.
“ No need to worry, I have no intentions on revealing your secrets.”
Koenji would not allow himself to be manipulated, would not subject himself to be controlled-
But in this moment, comprehension filling his bones, he knew that Ayanokouji Kiyotaka needed to know that he was not a threat.
That Koenji would not target him.
That Koenji did not need elimination, and at the same time-
“ Regardless, I intend to follow my heart at all times.”
Koenji needs to teach Ayanokouji that not everyone needs to be controlled.
It does not take long for Ayanokouji to release him, to deem any further attempts of manipulation unnecessary, and a waste of time.
Yet as Koenji leaves, his prey easily carried atop his shoulders and humming a cheery tune, Ayanokouji does not move watching as he leaves.
Koenji has no doubt that this will not be the last time the boy attempts to manipulate him, however this does not matter.
Nobody else matters to him in this blackened world, perhaps in time Ayanokouji will take solace in that fact alone.
*
In the end Ayanokouji never gets the chance, his past chancing after him like the hounds of hell look for their favorite chew toy.
When Prime Minister Ayanokouji Kiyotaka looks soullessly down upon the world he now rules Koenji will look back at this moment, years down the line as he grows out of most of his narcissistic tendencies and rebuilds his conglomerate after their sponsorship of the white room being revealed wrecks their value, and wonder.
If, at that moment, he had agreed to help the group, would it have changed anything?
Would it have meant anything?
Could he have saved the trembling child that had, for one moment in time, clutched his sleeve helplessly?
Or did it not matter either way, as the government itself doomed that child and themselves, dragged kicking and screaming down to hell with the very ‘demon’ they created.