Entrance Exam

The first glimpse of Vermilion Gate University did little to dispel the lingering skepticism gnawing at Ken's confidence

Brick buildings adorned with ivy, green quadrangles buzzing with student life, the scent of freshly cut grass mingling with the laughter of young voices. Teenagers littered across the landscape, oblivious to the storm of doubts brewing within Ken.

He watched them, their carefree interactions a stark counterpoint to the cold calculations swirling in his own mind. 

Were they all pawns in some elaborate scheme, lured by the glittering promise of financial freedom only to be left disillusioned and penniless? The thought left a bitter taste on his tongue.

He ventured deeper into the campus, the echo of his footsteps a lonely counterpoint to the symphony of adolescent chatter. Lunch trays piled high with food, debates spilling over benches, frisbees soaring through the air - it was a scene of normalcy that jarred with the uncharted island Ken had envisioned.

Then, a group of boys materialized, their banter punctuated by bursts of laughter. They jostled around, their faces crinkled with youthful exuberance, a stark contrast to the haunted eyes of the man on the plane. 

Were they all facades, hiding their anxieties beneath a display of normalcy? Or were they genuine, embracing the island's challenges with open hearts and fearless spirit?

Was Vermilion Gates University truly shaping minds and forging legacies, or was it simply a gilded cage, masking its secrets?

The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in fiery hues of orange and gold. Six o'clock. Hours had evaporated since Ken first set foot on Vermilion Gate's campus, and he still felt like an outsider adrift in a sea of carefree students. He stood rooted to the spot, a lone tree amidst a bustling forest, observing but not engaging.

Then, a shadow fell across him. A girl, her hair the color of wheat kissed by sunlight, stopped in front of him, her smile tentative. 

"Hi," she said, her voice a warm melody against the fading daylight. "You new here? I've seen you around, just standing…still. Thought maybe you were lost."

Ken met her gaze, his own as flat and gray as the approaching storm clouds. "Yes," he mumbled, his voice barely a whisper.

The girl ilted her head. "It's not exactly…what I expected either," she admitted, her smile turning wistful. "But hey, maybe that's a good thing, right? Keeps things interesting."

Ken grunted, unsure how to respond to this unexpected burst of sunshine. He wasn't used to casual conversation, preferring the icy grip of silence and solitude.

Her voice losing its sunny chirp. "I guess I'm not the only newbie then." 

She extended a hand, a "I'm Airi. Airi Hanamoto."

"And you are…?"

His voice, when it emerged, was a rasp against the rustle of leaves. "Ken," he muttered, the syllables dropping like pebbles into a well. "Ken... nothing more."

He saw her eyes flicker, a hint of surprise flitting across her sun-kissed face. Was it disappointment? Intrigue? He couldn't decipher the emotion hidden behind the curtain of her smile. It didn't matter.

"Ken, nothing more," she repeated, a playful lilt in her voice. 

"Intriguing. Well, Ken, nothing more, this place, It's…unique, wouldn't you say?"

He remained silent. She, however, seemed unfazed by his icy demeanor. 

"Unique," he finally conceded "Perhaps."

Airi's smile stayed bright, she chirped, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet.

 "So, what brings you here?"

He hesitated, the setting sun casting long shadows across his stony face. "None of your business," he finally muttered, turning to walk away.

Airi, however, wasn't so easily brushed off.

She skipped alongside him, her voice like a persistent cricket song. "C'mon, don't be such a grump! We're both stuck on this island of secrets, might as well share a few, right?"

Ken glanced at her, the girl's relentless cheer grating on his nerves. "Sharing isn't part of my vocabulary," he mumbled, keeping his eyes fixed on the path ahead.

"Hmm, that's a shame," Airi chirped, a playful glint in her eyes. "Maybe Vermillion Gates will teach you a thing or two about teamwork, huh?"

His lips twisted into a humorless smirk. "I trust no one, least of all this island," he spat, his voice laced with venom.

A hush fell over the thousand students as a crisp voice boomed from the speakers, capturing their undivided attention. With a formality that commanded respect, the announcer addressed them:

"Welcome, esteemed students, to Vermillion Gates University. Please prepare yourselves for your first official step on our journey. Kindly refrain from roaming the halls until the appointed hour of seven o'clock. For your convenience, the room number is clearly displayed on your boarding pass. Thank you for your cooperation."

The voice, devoid of unnecessary flourishes, resonated with authority and echoed through the cavernous hall. It was a clear message, delivered with a precision that left no room for confusion. 

The thousand students, momentarily united under the weight of this formal pronouncement, stood poised

Ken then proceeds to the room assigned to him

He scanned the sea of faces, his gaze as devoid of warmth as the approaching twilight. Then, a flash of sunlight on wheat-colored hair snagged his attention. 

Airi, the enigma in sunshine, trailed a few paces behind, her smile a beacon in the gathering dusk. He wasn't surprised; his keen intellect had already deduced their paths would converge.

Meeting her gaze, he saw a flicker of surprise melt into amusement. "Same room, eh?" she chirped

Ken grunted, a noncommittal response that spoke volumes of his contempt for idle conversation. He didn't need companionship, least of all from this girl who radiated an unnerving warmth

The room assigned to them – Room 13, an ominous inscription against the stark white door – sat at the end of a deserted corridor. Airi, for once, fell silent, a hint of apprehension replacing her usual sunshine.

Ken, however, felt a cold wind shoot through him. The number 13, with its whispers of misfortune, resonated with his solitary nature. It was, in its own bizarre way, fitting.

He pushed open the door. 

Inside, the room was shrouded in semi-darkness, there were 7 more students.

A lone girl, her eyes like pools of liquid silver, sat perched on a window sill, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon. A group of boys, boisterous and brash, huddled around a table, their voices a discordant symphony in the hushed room. 

A wizened old woman, her face etched with the wisdom of countless moons, sat in a shadowy corner, her eyes closed as if lost in an ancient memory.

Ken, his cold pragmatism momentarily shaken, scanned the room. Each face, etched with a unique blend of curiosity, trepidation, and ambition, was a cipher waiting to be cracked.

Airi, her initial apprehension replaced by a spark of excitement, flitted through the room like a hummingbird in a garden of thorns. She introduced herself, her voice a melody that cut through the hushed tension, her smile a beacon of warmth in the cold shadows. 

The other students, drawn to her infectious energy, opened up, sharing whispered stories and whispered hopes.

The time then hit 7 o'clock

Then, with a groan of protesting metal, the oak door slammed shut, plunging them into near darkness. The heavy clang reverberated through the room

Ken however barely flinched. He moved instinctively towards the door, his hand reaching for the handle. He tried opening it but the door was unyielding.

Then, like a bolt of lightning, the room exploded in blinding white light. Squinting eyes, wide with surprise, adjusted to the harsh glare emanating from a hidden source above.

A formal voice, boomed from unseen speakers.

 "Welcome, students of Vermillion Gate University," it proclaimed, its tone echoing through the chamber.

 "Please direct your attention to the boxes and watches provided on the table. Your mobile devices must be deposited in the boxes and the watches worn on your wrists. Consider them your temporary companions, for communication beyond the island's borders is strictly prohibited."

A murmur rippled through the room, a wave of unease displacing the initial shock. Phones, lifelines to the outside world, were to be surrendered. Isolation, a claustrophobic truth, sank its teeth into their collective consciousness.

"This island," the voice continued, "exists in a unique pocket of the world. No signal penetrates its veil, severing all ties to the life you once knew. Fear not, for your only escape lies not in yearning for the past, but in embracing the challenges that lie ahead. Graduation from Vermillion Gates University is your sole ticket to the world beyond. Consider it a crucible, a test of your mettle, your intellect, your very essence."

A stunned silence followed. The room, once buzzing with nervous anticipation, now simmered with a newfound tension. The implications of the announcer's words were stark: they were captives, their freedom a distant mirage shimmering across a desert of unknown trials.

Ken, however, remained unfazed. His gaze, cold and calculating, swept the room, dissecting the reactions of his fellow students. Some, like the silver-eyed girl, met the news with a flicker of defiance in their eyes. 

Others, like the boisterous boys, slumped in defeat, their bravado withering under the weight of enforced isolation. And the old woman, ever enigmatic, sat in her corner, a silent observer, her wrinkled face betraying nothing.

As the students shuffled towards the boxes, surrendering their phones, Ken Yamada already adjusted the watch on his wrist.

As the last student deposited their phone in the designated box, the disembodied voice of the University returned, its formality a chilling counterpoint to the nervous fidgeting in the room. "Welcome, once more, students of Vermillion Gate," it resonated, "to your first test."