Gifted Academy: The Perfect Student



Taking my seat in the classroom, I observed the teacher's demeanor as he began the lesson with even less enthusiasm than usual. It wasn't surprising given the absence of many of the students. As for me, it didn't make much of a difference. I sat like usual, simply waiting for the lesson to finish.

"Eh, aren't you overreacting to it?"

"No no no, I'm just being real!"

"Did you hear…"

"That…"

As the chatters grew louder, it seemed like the teacher didn't hear the chatters as he kept explaining. Honestly, I didn't care much for the commotion as I was more focused on my own thoughts.

Eventually, the teacher ended the lesson and walked out of the room, leaving the students to their own devices. I stood up slowly, taking my time to gather my things, and made my way out of the classroom.

"Mizuhara."

A voice called out to me, interrupting my thoughts. I recognized the voice; it was Hamasaki, she was ranked fifth in the class - just one spot above me at sixth.

"Hi there, neighbor," she said with a smile, referring to our proximity in the midterm rankings. "So, the study group is paying off, huh? For us at least?"

"I guess so."

"Well, I guess that's because I'm the leader, hm!" she joked, tossing her long hair back.

"Yeah."

"..congratulations on passing, though. A lot of students got expelled, so I guess you're one of the lucky - or smart - ones."

"I suppose so."

"Yeah, see you."

She walked past me, her perfume - L'Ofake, if I remembered correctly - lingering in the air. I don't know why does Hamasaki felt the need to congratulate everyone. Maybe that's just how popular girls are, showering others with platitudes to maintain their status.

As I continued down the hallway, I caught sight of Hamasaki chatting with a female student, her effervescent personality on full display. I turned right, and in no time, they vanished from my sight.

As usual, I made my way to the library. I walked slowly, taking my time, and eventually arrived after a few minutes. The library was open this time, which was a relief. As I closed the door behind me, I glanced around the room, taking in the familiar sights from left to right.

Not much had changed in the library, which was both reassuring and a bit boring. I couldn't help but wonder why it had been closed before, but it wasn't a burning curiosity. Perhaps there had been some accident, like a bookshelf collapsing or something, but it didn't really matter to me.

The atmosphere in the library was drastically different from before the midterms. It was eerily quiet, with even the slightest sound echoing through the expansive space like ripples in a pond. As I walked between the bookshelves, I found myself carefully observing the titles of the books and their authors, lost in thought.

The library was like a cavernous chamber, with its high ceilings and cavernous walls magnifying even the faintest of sounds. I couldn't help but notice the slightest whispers and chatters from other students, but it seemed like they too were aware of the acoustics of the space and kept their voices hushed.

It was apparent that the library wasn't a place for gossip or idle chatter. The slightest noise could easily reverberate and distract other students. The quiet environment was indicative of the studious nature of the students present in the library.

Taking two books from the library, I realized that I had previously earmarked them as potential reads. Of course, I hadn't physically marked them, but I had remembered their locations and the rows of bookshelves to memory.

As I settled into my seat, I placed the other book gently on the table and opened the one in my hand. I often hear that books are windows to the world. But when I read, I don't feel like I'm looking out at the world.

Instead, it's like I'm looking at a strange and self-contained world that the author has created. It's a world that follows its own rules and is populated by its own characters, who often have little in common with the people I know in real life.

And yet, I'm drawn to them, lost in the pages as I discover new places, ideas, and perspectives.

*

"..why won't you understan…"

"It's..not my…"

The distant sound of voices caught my attention, the murmurs growing louder until I could make out that it was an argument. Though the words were indistinct, the tone conveyed an intense exchange between two people. I didn't feel the need to investigate further, I maintained my focus on the book in my hands. It wasn't my nature to be inquisitive, after all.

It's like that sometimes, where one can choose to turn a blind eye or deaf ear to something, preferring to hold on to their own truth, even if it doesn't align with logic. Sometimes, it's easier to be on the side of righteousness and to vilify those who oppose you.

And that's one of the very essences of human nature.

After some time, I perceived rapid footsteps approaching, their sound growing louder and louder, until they arrived at the door. My seat happened to be located near the entrance. I could hear the unmistakable sound of the door opening, then quickly closing behind the person who had entered.

Humans have a tendency to flee from things they cannot conquer, refusing to listen to any dissenting opinions that could challenge their beliefs and potentially sway their convictions. It's something that always holds true.

It is almost as if I am speaking in a detached, impersonal manner, as if I am not one of the very humans that I speak of. However, I cannot deny my own humanity and still hold onto my own beliefs.

So, in a sense, I too want to hold onto the belief that I am indeed human, flawed and imperfect, but still capable of growth and change.

Or so they say.

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