Classroom of the Elite (COTE) : An Ordinary Highschool Life

"Drip, drip, drip—"

"Plink, plink, plink—"

The sounds of rain are always very strange, they keep changing. They make different sounds when they fall on different objects. I think that if we experience the world through these sounds, we might feel it differently.

The traffic light across the sidewalk was washed in a block of red light by the rain. That red, softened by the downpour, was less glaring than it should have been, yet it remained very eye-catching.

The transparent raincoat produced a dense "ticking" sound, and a crowd gathered around it.

"Boom—"

A loud, explosion-like sound spread across the dark night sky. Although thunder on a rainy night is common, I couldn't help but be drawn to this roar.

Dark purple lightning flashed through the thick, dark clouds in an instant. It illuminated the world for a brief moment before disappearing again.

This sentence is as repetitive as my previous words without really adding anything new.

Maybe you can't fully understand what I'm talking about, but I only wish to capture that moment—when, for just a second, novelty is felt. In the end, all that remains is a repetition of the past.

I once heard a proverb: "Do you really live for more than 10,000 days, or do you simply live one day, repeated 10,000 times?" This saying comes from the Portuguese poet Fernando Pessoa. I didn't grasp its meaning before, but now I feel it deeply.

The past is but a fleeting wisp of smoke, and the present is like an old movie—engraved on black-and-white film and played in a loop on a vintage projector.

I stared at the dark clouds on that rainy night, not quite sure what I was thinking—or perhaps thinking nothing at all. With those hazy thoughts in mind, I turned my gaze back to the traffic light before me.

—Three, two, one.

This is not a countdown of loneliness; it is an electronic timer, more precise than a pendulum, that shines with a red light and carries the shared joy of reaching the end together in my heart.

Unlike me, no one in the crowd was wearing a raincoat. Instead, they held umbrellas in their hands. They all had furrowed brows, staring distractedly at the shiny white umbrellas, and hurried along.

I tried to move forward, but I failed every time. Then I felt a push from behind. Although the force was slight, I could clearly sense the underlying malice and impatience. That push made it even harder for me to move forward, but fortunately, the person quickly changed his approach.

He leaned sideways, pressed his shoulder against my arm, and then pushed me backward as he squeezed past. With hatred in his heart, he applied considerable pressure on me before leaving. Consequently, half of his body became soaked.

It wasn't his fault, the fault was my lingering presence... probably.

In fact, it isn't that I don't want to walk on this sidewalk; it's that the crowd forces me to stand still. I imagined a scene from a two-dimensional anime—a moment when I remain motionless while the flow of the crowd spontaneously carries me forward.

But obviously, this is just my fantasy. Such things might appear in unrealistic novels, but in real life, no one will spontaneously lead you forward. They will either replace you or destroy you.

The word "beauty" originates in the human heart, so beauty exists only in the world that the heart constructs.

Thus, this world is truly full of fickleness. I laughed at myself.

That's right—from the very beginning, I had no chance to enjoy life in Utopia, and the "crimes" I committed only deserved this kind of treatment, or even worse.

As the green light was about to fade, the surroundings grew a little quieter. As the old era fell, a new era was poised to rise. Knowing this well, I took the opportunity to walk alone into the night.

The brim of a raincoat is always shorter than one imagines, so I could only lower it to cover myself as I looked down at the hurried footsteps around me.

The sound of footsteps splashing in puddles was completely drowned out by the rain, yet I knew that what I heard was not the rain but the noise of the crowd. The fragmented utterances of human beings intersect and merge into the noisiest of natural sounds.

Isn't this ridiculous?

It is said that nature is the purest sound, the most ethereal and cleansing. But is that truly the case?

The sounds of rushing about and labor are filled with a myriad of life sentiments. Although they differ, without exception, their ultimate aim is the same: the excuse for missing a party, the apology offered to save face, the complaint about still having to work to transport goods, the joy of lovers, the exhaustion of a snack bar owner—everything carries this same quality. Society as a whole—this secondary facet of human nature—ultimately cannot be separated from the pursuit of interests.

Interests are the foundation of everything, and human society is built on their supremacy.

We humans are simply creatures who prioritize profit above all else.

I wandered into the darkness of a narrow alley, living there like a worm in a gutter.

Although this may come as a surprise, I'd like to interrupt you for a moment.

I would like to ask everyone here: what is the meaning of life? In other words, why do we exist?

Have you ever pondered this question—whether during a rare moment of leisure after hard work or in times of desperation when faced with hunger and cold?

At first glance, these questions may seem unrelated; however, they ultimately address the same issue: the purpose of our existence.

Some people claim they live for money, to repay the kindness of their adoptive parents, for the happiness of their children, to leave a lasting legacy, or to secure a happy marriage in the future. There are many such explanations.

However, these are merely specific motivations encountered in the pursuit of one's purpose—not the essence of life itself.

So, what is the essence?

The answer is: 'None'.

In the span of just a hundred years, our lives amount to little more than fleeting moments—a mere whisper in time. Ultimately, we become as insignificant as a speck of dust, if not entirely forgotten. All our achievements, like our existence, will eventually vanish.

After a brief period of reflection, I arrived at this conclusion.

——There is no meaning in life at all, people just live for the sake of living.

If that is true, then why should we be so obsessed with survival instead of simply ending it all?

Allow me to think this through more carefully and present a deeper argument.

According to the law of increasing entropy, every system naturally evolves from order to chaos. In time, everyone is destined to turn to dust—death is inevitable. When we leave this world, all our material possessions, money, and even our bodies will be destroyed.

What remains is our spirit—our indelible consciousness or soul. Let us assume that the soul and consciousness indeed possess such enduring qualities.

Based on this perspective, while we are alive, we should pursue spiritual wealth—that is, seek emotional satisfaction and intellectual enrichment. In other words, what we truly need in life is happiness.

However, although we seem to be on the road to happiness, we have actually strayed from it.

This is evident in the hurried, somber expressions of those around us. Endless studying, heavy mortgage payments, and stressful workplaces leave us with little time to breathe.

We claim to be pursuing happiness, but ultimately it all comes down to money—benefits, if you will.

Human civilization has evolved over thousands of years, with the pursuit of self-interest driving rapid societal development. Yet, this same drive has led us to a point where living revolves solely around personal gain.

What a sad thing this is.

The original intention of civilization is not to gain more benefits, but to live the rest of your life the way you want, so as to gain greater spiritual wealth. That is, to pursue what people now call happiness. 

But nowadays this is extremely difficult.

People spend a lot of time and energy, and even sacrifice their bodies in exchange for an unequal life. A hundred years is just a blink of an eye. From birth to school, work to marriage, to forming a family, to raising children, and finally leaving.

What can you do in just a hundred years? Can you really get spiritual wealth? No, you can't. You have tried your best, but when you look back, you find that you have always been working for the absolute material life. Don't say such stupid things as "at least you have tried hard". Such language is nothing more than paralyzing yourself.

Material satisfaction and then spiritual satisfaction—oh, is this even possible? Can you truly last until that moment? Even if you manage to reach the pinnacle, I am afraid you will be left with nothing but emptiness.

Since fate is no longer a subject for discussion, why don't people return to dust early and seek a grand liberation?

At least, that's what I believe.

I left the darkness of this society alone, and at the same time felt a little bit of joy about my impending death, a result of failure, but more sadness.

I saw nothing wrong with this approach, yet an old geezer still stopped me.

"…Is this the reason you're planning to commit suicide?"

"It's not preparation; it's an ongoing process, but you interrupted me." I knew full well that this topic wouldn't be resolved quickly, so I deliberately got off the bench.

"Do you think you're physically capable of dying by hanging?"

"I checked online and found that hanging is one of the most common methods of suicide. Although I don't think my cervical vertebrae will break and cause death, I still want to try it."

"You must have experienced this before... Even if you try to adjust, your body will eventually become desensitized to this situation as a conditioned reflex."

"Conditioned reflexes are not uncontrollable behaviors, and the previous experiments were not conducted voluntarily by me. Suicide is death caused by one's own hand... I didn't expect you to visit my residence without permission today. I miscalculated... Next time, I'll treat it as a mission, handle it carefully, and try not to let anyone find out."

I took two bottles of Coke from the refrigerator and sat on the sofa with him. I wasn't really interested in drinks, but since I was there, I might as well treat myself to a small consolation.

"You want another chance?!" He snatched the iced drink from my hand angrily, pried open the tab with force, and took a big sip. "You really make sense."

"I'm just stating the facts." I mimicked his movements and tried to pull the tab off the can.

"Do you think I'm letting you go free so you can commit suicide again?"

"Haven't I fulfilled all your commissions? You said so yesterday." After going through a lot of trouble, I finally opened the can and took a sip.

...It doesn't feel very good.

"I won't care about you anymore—do whatever you want."

Well, that was about it. I visualized the scene clearly in my mind and nodded.

He heard my answer and rolled his eyes.

"That wasn't a request for you to do this. I said it with a clear purpose."

"Really? I didn't hear that."

"You really are…"

He shook his head helplessly, pinched his temples, and closed his eyes to think for a moment. Then, a weird grin appeared on his face.

"Brat... I know exactly what to do with you—I'm sending you off to an interesting school."

"Damn..."

Really, what a pity, I was so close to success. I was so close to escaping from this world.

"As long as you stay there for three years, you can do whatever you want. By then, I won't care about you anymore."

"That's really too much. Is this a joke, old man?"

"Of course not. If you call this a joke three years later, then I will personally bury you with a grand ceremony."

"Why do you want me to go there?"

"It's to make you understand the true meaning of life."

"I have already experienced this kind of thing."

"That's because you don't understand yet."

Ah, it was refuted in one sentence. I spent more than ten minutes thinking about the point, and it was refuted just like that. It was so sad.

"Haruto, listen carefully. Although people live only to die, that very fact makes life more meaningful. The meaning of life is to live and living means experiencing tears and laughter, pain and anxiety, as well as happiness and warmth."

"Anyway, you will understand it later, after you stay there for three years, or even less than three years."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, old man. I'll accept your last request... So tell me more about this school."

"This high school is not what you imagined." He stretched out his index finger and waved it in front of my eyes. "Life there is unlike that of an ordinary school—it will be more interesting than you think. And remember, don't get expelled before you finish the three years."

"So my only goal is to not get expelled?" I asked, my voice tinged with doubt.

"No, of course not. Just not being expelled is far from enough."

"What exactly do you want to do? If you don't explain the task in detail, I won't know how to act."

"You don't need to know my objective. I'll set the conditions, and you simply need to do what I say"

"This is too much trouble. Why don't you just tell me your goal, and I'll see if I can achieve it?" 

"If I tell you the purpose, you will definitely fail. And even if you fail, isn't that good? After all—"

"I've never seen you fail before."

"My failure is nothing unusual. Everyone fails sometimes. Besides, you think too highly of me. There are countless ordinary people like me, and there are also many people who are better than me."

"Haha, you're too modest. Tomorrow, I'll give you all the information about this mission."

"Yeah, yeah, old man. I won't send you off."

"What an impolite young man."