Talent
The character "sai," meaning something innate, and "nō," meaning the ability to accomplish a certain thing—these words combine into the compound "talent," referring to the capacity to exert strength in a particular domain from the very moment of birth. [1]
In short, talent can be defined as a power one possesses innately.
Yet this definition has always sparked fierce debate.
There is the opposing view: that talent is not innate at all, but acquired later through effort.
The discourse on talent essentially boils down to an eternal clash between these two positions. This holds true not only among modern intellectuals but even among the great philosophers of the past, whose views were sharply divided.
The conflict between Locke and Descartes offers a particularly clear example.
To explain them briefly, both were 17th-century thinkers whose ideas—empiricism for Locke and rationalism for Descartes—left a profound mark on later generations.
Detailing the differences between empiricism and rationalism would take too long, so I will stop here, but please remember that the two philosophies stand in direct opposition to each other.
The core of their disagreement, in a single phrase, was the question of innate ideas—whether humans are born with the inherent ability to distinguish good from evil. Descartes argued that the faculty of rational thought, or "good sense," is bestowed equally upon everyone at birth.
Locke, by contrast, insisted that a human being at birth is a tabula rasa—a completely blank slate—and that all knowledge derives solely from experience.
Perhaps the fundamental divide between innate and acquired begins here. This line of thinking extends into the debate over talent and can even leap further into the question of "equality."
So let us consider, just for a moment, what equality truly means.
To everyone who has followed my words this far, I pose a single question.
"Are human beings equal?"
What does equality mean in modern society? In today's modernized world, the word is thrown around like a marketing slogan.
Gender discrimination alone—trace history and the examples are countless, far beyond what two hands could count—and even now, no small number of such divisions persist.
Those born with some form of abnormality are labeled and discriminated against as "disabled." Narrow the scope to society and then to specific regions, and terms like buraku discrimination surface. [2]
Pursuing these examples further would waste time, so I will state the conclusion plainly.
Human beings are not equal in the slightest.
We live in a modern society where discrimination is easier to find than equality.
This is most starkly evident in the realm of labor. There are "those who use" and "those who are used." The latter are often praised as "vital cogs in society." They are replaceable parts; a broken cog is discarded at once, never repaired.
The former exploit the latter to their heart's content, accumulate vast wealth, and revel in life. The concept of equality never even crosses their minds.
A splendid yet despair-inducing society. Karl Marx's fears proved prescient.
And because no one applies the lessons of history, acting only out of self-interest, we have arrived at the society we have today.
As this society drags on, those who are "used" will eventually lose sight of their own purpose and wander aimlessly. In the end, they seek something called "hope" as a way to shove their fears onto something else.
That something may be other people, objects, or perhaps...
Now, how does one achieve "equality"? I know the dull answer, but such things are better arrived at through one's own thought.
I will offer only one opinion of my own. Though nine times out of ten, it will make you furiously angry.
...Ah, the very fact that you would grow angry is, to me, utterly boring.
"Humans without talent are nothing more than parasites."
The word "equality" remains forever the utterance of those chasing ideals. If you are going to dwell on such things, you would do better to give up honestly and turn your mind elsewhere. After all, inequality begins the instant one is born.
For "talent" and "equality" are words that can never be separated.
...
What happens at school in April? For students already enrolled, it is the time when the grade advances one year—a period of change, for better or for worse.
Separations, for instance: being parted from close friends because of class reshuffling. Or encounters: making new friends through the same reshuffling.
Even so, the defining school event of April is the entrance ceremony. Before the school gate, one can see new students arriving in spotless, brand-new uniforms. It is a splendid season when their youth truly begins—at least, that is how vast accumulated memories would frame it.
The spring breeze flows gently, as though encouraging their youth.
While envisioning such a scene, I let a solitary mutter escape regarding my present circumstances.
"To think that I, once called the Ultimate Hope, would enroll in school again... This truly was unforeseen." [0]
Immediately after passing through the gate, a bulletin board displayed the class assignments for the new students.
A delusion, a dream, or perhaps something within a program. While idly exploring possibilities with a brain that performs all too well, I confirm my own appearance reflected in a nearby utility pole.
Hair dyed pure black with no room for any other color, reaching all the way to my waist yet meticulously maintained. Red eyes visible between those black strands.
Instead of the usual black suit, I am wearing a red-based blazer and green trousers.
Aside from the clothing, it is the familiar self. Searching my memories yields no trace of ever creating or wearing this school uniform.
Unnatural. A sense of wrongness.
Faced with the unknown, my thoughts accelerate in an effort to comprehend the situation.
"...That."
While piecing together the situation, I walk toward my assigned class.
At that moment, I notice a girl ahead of me—short hair of a faintly pale aqua shade—drop a handkerchief.
She continues walking without realizing it.
Troublesome. I release the feeling as a sigh. At that angle, it is doubtful she would even notice the drop.
We are headed the same way.
Losing something on the very first day would be unfortunate, so I pick up the handkerchief and quicken my steps to catch up.
"You dropped this."
When the girl turns to look at me, surprise flashes across her face.
Moreover, she takes it back with forceful momentum, almost snatching it.
"...Thank you."
Yet she is capable of gratitude. She understands basic courtesy.
With her height at around 159 cm and the average height for high school girls shifts year by year, and since I have yet to fully grasp the current era, I do not know the precise figure. Judging from the students passing by, however, she is likely above average.
She stands with arms folded, her pale aqua hair swaying in the breeze as she regards me.
"...Hey, you're in Class C, aren't you?"
I answer with a nod.
An unsociable expression paired with sharp, glaring eyes. From her curt manner of speech, I judge her communication skills to be low.
"I thought so."
Even after confirming, the short-haired girl continues staring in the same way.
I have done nothing in particular, yet interest and surprise are clearly visible in her eyes.
Her gaze is directed around my face. Judging from the emotion that arises when encountering something outside the ordinary,
"Is it my hair?"
Her eyes widen in shock. She quickly schools her expression, then narrows her already thin eyes further and declares with evident displeasure.
"...You're a guy, right? That hair is abnormally long. It surprised me a little."
With her arms still crossed, the impression she gives is thoroughly intimidating—about the worst possible for a first encounter.
As expected, this high school girl possesses low communication skills.
My assessment was correct.
"I simply let it grow without interference; this is the result."
"Let it grow... You're strange. Hair that long has to be a nuisance."
"One grows accustomed to it. It poses no issue."
The girl before me has a short cut. From her expressed dislike of long hair and the developed musculature in her lower body—suggesting a preference for athletic activity—it is likely she favors sports.
Even so, her hair maintains a minimum standard of care; it appears reasonably tended on a daily basis.
"What's your name?"
"Name?"
It has been so long since anyone asked that I unconsciously repeat the word.
To be asked without any trace of malice or hatred may well be a first.
"We're definitely going to be in the same class for an entire year, so we might as well introduce ourselves early, right? I'm Mio Ibuki. What's yours?"
Mio Ibuki... [3]
The name resembles that of someone I once knew—an Ultimate—but the personality and demeanor are entirely dissimilar, so I set the coincidence aside. [4]
Treating it as mere chance, I return the introduction.
"Izuru Kamukura."
That name is the symbol who founded Hope's Peak Academy.
That name once belonged to the monster who plunged the world into despair.
Hearing it elicits no reaction whatsoever, confirming that Mio Ibuki truly does not know me.
And then, as if to add insult,
"...You probably don't have many friends, do you?"
She belittles the very symbol of hope. The type whose words spill out without forethought. In short, she lacks tact.
"Many? That phrasing is inaccurate. I have no friends at all."
"Is that really something you should declare so proudly?"
Leaving the bewildered Mio Ibuki behind, I continue toward the classroom.
...
Tokyo Metropolitan Advanced Nurturing High School. An anomalous advanced school that commands a site exceeding 600,000 square meters right in the heart of the metropolis. A government-directed institution with near-perfect rates of university admission and employment—an outstanding school in every sense. This place possesses two distinctive features that set it apart from countless ordinary high schools.
The first is that all enrolled students are mandated to live in on-campus dormitories, and—with rare exceptions—any contact or interaction with the outside world is strictly prohibited.
Just hearing that might sound insane, but as I said before, the grounds here are immense. They come fully equipped with karaoke boxes, movie theaters, cafés, and every other form of entertainment, not to mention department stores, convenience stores, and restaurants. In short, it's like a self-contained little city. Daily life here is almost entirely free of inconvenience.
As for the second feature—some of you might be curious—but I've reached the classroom now, so I'll explain it later.
My assigned seat was second from the back on the window side. After sitting down and setting my bag and belongings in place, I headed straight to the entrance ceremony.
To put it bluntly, it was excruciatingly dull. My very first entrance ceremony in life, and yes—it was boring. We were lined up in perfect rows, uniforms inspected, forced to listen to speeches from teachers and upperclassmen, then the homeroom assignments were announced… all of it, nothing but tedium.
The ceremony ended, we returned to our respective classrooms, and we were told to wait there until our newly announced homeroom teacher arrived.
"Hey, why'd you pick this school?"
Ibuki spoke up.
We hadn't exchanged a single word since our introductions, so I'd assumed she wasn't the type who enjoyed conversation, but she must have simply grown fed up with the dull wait for the teacher.
Starting a chat with the person next to her out of sheer boredom didn't quite fit the personality or demeanor I'd observed.
Her seat was the one directly in front of mine. In other words, she was deliberately turning around to face me.
Looking at her face more carefully, I noticed it was surprisingly well-proportioned. I wouldn't go so far as to call her an idol or a classic beauty, but she definitely fell into the attractive category.
…Rest assured—I may not look it, but I do possess idol-level talent. I simply never use it because it's entirely unnecessary in ordinary circumstances. I'll concede it's hard to picture.
Anyway, I ought to answer her earlier question, but the honest truth is that even I don't fully understand the reason.
Let me be clear. I'm not joking.
My final memory is of the Neo World Program. [5]
In that world, I watched Hajime Hinata draw out every last one of my talents and defeat Junko Enoshima's Alter Ego. [7]
After that, I was supposed to either vanish completely or revert to being Hajime Hinata—but for some reason, I woke up lying in a bed in an unfamiliar place. [8]
I repeat. I'm not joking.
To grasp the situation, I immediately rose from the bed and surveyed my surroundings. Nothing seemed out of place.
Yet on a nearby desk lay documents addressed to me: this school's uniform, an admission certificate, and a pamphlet.
I considered the "why" at once and reached a single conclusion in mere minutes. Before that, though, I was far more concerned with the state of my all-important "talents," so I tested every one of them first.
The fact that I can think and reason like this should tell you they all functioned perfectly.
Why am I here? Most likely, a bug of some kind caused me to infiltrate a backup Neo World Program designed to rehabilitate the Remnants of Despair.
"Hey, you listening?"
It's almost like one of those isekai reincarnation light novels that were all the rage long ago.
Still, if my guess is correct and this truly is a Neo World Program, then the objective is obvious—far easier than a genuine other-world reincarnation where nothing is known.
So what should I do? Simple, just graduate.
The setting of this program is a school. To leave, I need only attend classes for three full years without being expelled or suspended and graduate in the literal sense.
If I do, there's a strong chance the rehabilitation process intended for despair-infected students will take effect. In that case, I may as well follow the same path for now.
The trouble, if any, is that there is nothing here for me to learn. To me, these three years will be nothing but unrelenting boredom.
In that case… this vast stretch of time might be the perfect opportunity to experience those things Hajime Hinata and Chiaki Nanami spoke of—"emotions" and "friends." [9]
If so—
"Hey, don't ignore me!"
"I was lost in thought for a moment. About why I chose this school, yes?"
"…So you were listening after all."
I wouldn't be called the Ultimate Hope if I couldn't handle multiple tasks at once.
Even so, what answer should I give? I need something that will satisfy her here and now…
At that thought, I paused my reasoning for a beat.
Model answers have no value if I truly wish to understand human emotion deeply. My brain reached that judgment instantly. Then perhaps speaking my unfiltered thoughts over these three years would make for decent entertainment.
But… this time, let's aim for an answer she'll accept. Explaining the circumstances of this world would be far too troublesome.
"If I had to say, the 100% university admission and employment rates caught my interest."
"Hmm… same as me, I guess. Plus, I just wanted to try living on my own for once."
Living alone. I recall hearing that, in the Japan before despair's domination, the total number of single-person households—both men and women—was gradually declining due to later marriages and rising rates of remaining unmarried.
Resulting issues like lonely deaths and lifestyle-related diseases had become something of a social problem.
Of course, since this is a program world, none of that matters here…
Still, when I think about it, the students admitted to this school are already one step ahead of their peers in terms of independence. On that point alone, I can approve of the school's educational philosophy.
"Looks like the teacher's here. Better turn around."
"Yeah, seems so."
Looking forward, a slender man in his thirties entered the room. Black-rimmed glasses, the frail-looking sort who seems like he'd teach science subjects.
"Good morning, everyone. I'm Kazuma Sakagami, your homeroom teacher for Class C. I teach mathematics. Since there are no class shuffles over the three years here, we'll be together for quite a while."
"I'd be glad if you learned my name quickly. Sorry to dive right in, but I'd like to explain this school's unique system."
"You probably already know some of it from the pre-enrollment pamphlet, but please listen carefully. I'll distribute handouts now—pass them to the back. If we run short, I'll bring more."
Despite his appearance, he gives off a remarkably approachable vibe. There's not a trace of falsehood in anything he's said; it's all sincere.
A favorable impression, I'd say.
"Everyone has the materials? Good. Next, I'll hand out your student ID cards. This card will be the single most important item in your lives from now on."
"I assume you're all familiar with the S-System, so I'll skip the finer details… but if anything is unclear, please refer to the handouts I just gave you."
The S-System—one of the school's defining features. Put simply, it's a system in which everything on campus is purchased with points.
The card we received is a point card fused with the student ID, functioning as the school's internal currency. By eliminating physical cash, it preemptively prevents monetary disputes—a rather rational measure.
Usage is straightforward: simply authenticate at the terminals by presenting or tapping the card.
I commit to memory that losing it would be exceedingly troublesome.
"Now for something important. Points are deposited automatically on the first of each month."
"All of you should already have 100,000 points credited to your accounts. One point is equivalent to one yen."
The classroom erupted into murmurs all at once. Understandable—they've essentially been handed 100,000 yen in pocket money. Ordinary high school students would naturally react.
Boring. Not a word was said about "every month," yet they're already lost in fantasies of how to spend 100,000 yen.
With too little information at present, I can't form a firm judgment, but there is almost certainly a hidden catch.
I reached that conclusion and waited for Sakagami-sensei's next words.
"Surprised by the point amount? This school evaluates students based on ability. Merely gaining admission means you've passed through a very narrow gate. This is the school's assessment of you. No twist like 'it's all a lie,' so spend freely. Just note that all points will be reclaimed upon graduation, so hoarding forever isn't wise. Also, points may be transferred between students. Ah—don't try robbing anyone, all right? That would earn instant expulsion. That covers the essentials. Any questions?"
"Then may I ask one?"
The moment Sakagami-sensei finished, as if he'd been waiting for the cue, one male student raised his hand.
Every gaze in the room instantly shifted to the boy with hair slightly longer than average for a male.
Accustomed to such attention, he remained perfectly composed.
"Granted."
"Are the 100,000 points something we receive every month?"
"…Sharp question. However, Ryuuen-kun, we teachers cannot give a definitive answer on that point. My apologies. I hope that satisfies you."
Sakagami-sensei apologized, yet his voice carried a faint note of excitement. I detected something suspicious in what seemed like delight at the students' rising expectations.
Cannot give a definitive answer… all the more suspicious.
Moreover, the student called Ryuuen appears a cut above the other dull specimens.
He stands out simply because the bar is so low.
"Yeah, I'm satisfied, Sakagami-sensei. By the way—have you really memorized every student's face and name already?"
"Naturally. As I mentioned, we'll be together for three full years. I'd like to build rapport as quickly as possible."
This teacher genuinely seems devoted to his students.
There's no sign he's forcing the attitude—it's authentic. Landing a passionate, competent teacher can be considered fortunate.
Naturally—I possess talents of that mundane level myself.
"No further questions? Then I'll conclude the explanation. Let us all strive together over the next three years. It's about time, so we'll end here for today."
"Normal classes begin tomorrow—don't forget the materials required for each subject. That is all."
At Sakagami-sensei's direction, the students began to move.
Some groups that had apparently already bonded were discussing karaoke plans; others made arrangements to talk at a café. Still, more than seventy percent appeared headed straight back to the dormitories.
To be frank—after hearing an explanation riddled with gaps, deciding to go out and play strikes me as sheer folly.
But the affairs of fools are irrelevant to me. More pressing is the nature of this school itself.
Everything about it reeks of suspicion. Handing high school students an exorbitant 100,000 points on day one.
The woefully inadequate explanation regarding those points. And above all—the abnormal profusion of surveillance cameras…
I counted dozens on the way here alone; four in the classroom, one in each corner. Searching the entire campus would doubtless yield well over a hundred. The level of monitoring is plainly excessive.
Yet perhaps, because of that, things will not be entirely boring.
My expression remains unchanged. It showed no alteration even when I witnessed countless instances of despair alongside the Ultimate Despair in the past. [6]
That is only natural. Izuru Kamukura is a monster stripped of every superfluous element.
All the same, for reasons unknown, my mood is faintly elevated.
Even I—who can foresee every possible future—may be harboring the slightest expectation toward an "unknown" possibility. [10]
Just like that time—
"Hey, Kamukura. You're not heading back?"
Ibuki, seated in front of me, called out.
Glancing around, I saw almost no students remained.
I'd assumed she would leave immediately, but her dubious expression suggested she wanted to discuss the earlier explanation.
Thinking together with someone would make grasping the current situation easier than thinking alone—so she waited for me, I surmise.
"Shall we talk a little about the earlier explanation while we walk? It should help ease your unease as well."
"…I haven't said anything yet."
"It showed on your face."
I stood and left the classroom.
Let me entertain just a trace of "expectation." Let me await the "unknown" I cannot predict.
***
[0] Ultimate Hope is an exclusive title and the one who bearing this title are considered to represent Hope.
[1] The Japanese word sainō means talent, ability, gift, or aptitude.
[2] Buraku discrimination refers to historical and ongoing social discrimination in Japan against a specific minority group called the Burakumin.
[3] Mioda Ibuki is a student of Hope's Peak Academy with Ultimate Musician talent.
[4] Ultimate is a title given to talented people described as being the very best at what they do. They often specialize in one subject.
[5] Neo World Program is a program created by the Future Foundation, designed to place the user in a virtual world by synchronizing directly with the user's brain.
[6] Ultimate Despair is a terrorist organization in founded by Junko Enoshima. Their goal is to spread despair across the world, driving it into a state of self-destructive anarchy. People who remained after Junko's execution were inducted into Ultimate Despair and called Remnants of Despair.
[7] Junko Enoshima is a student in Hope's Peak Academy with Ultimate Fashionista, Ultimate Analyst, and Ultimate Despair talent that can cause nearly anyone to fall into despair.
[8] Hajime Hinata is the alternate identity and original identity of Izuru Kamukura before he joined the Izuru Kamukura Project, which gave him all the Ultimate Talents in the world.
[9] Chiaki Nanami is a student in Hope's Peak Academy with Ultimate Gamer talent.
[10] With the Ultimate Clairvoyant talent and several other talents focused on analysis and information gathering, he can predict the future with all the information he has.
***
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