Layers of Deception

Yuki woke with a restless mind, yesterday’s events replaying in a constant loop. The name Maya Aoki echoed in his thoughts, lingering like a puzzle piece that refused to fit. Why had Jun acted so strangely around her? And why had Maya pretended not to know him? The possibility that they were hiding something gnawed at him. Jun never kept secrets from him—or at least, Yuki had always thought so.

The idea that there was something critical he didn’t know tightened in his chest. He needed to figure this out.

Without waiting for the rest of the house to wake, Yuki slipped out the door and headed toward the playground. It was early, the streets still quiet, and the crisp air stung his cheeks. The playground was one of Jun’s favorite spots, especially in the mornings. Yuki hoped to find him there, perched on a swing or sitting on the rusted jungle gym, lost in thought.

But when Yuki arrived, the playground was empty. The swings creaked faintly in the breeze, and the silence felt heavy. He paced for a few minutes, kicking at loose gravel, but there was no sign of Jun. Disappointed, he turned back toward school.

At Genesis, Yuki scanned the grounds, his eyes darting between clusters of students. He hoped to catch a glimpse of Maya, to confront her, or at least ask her the questions swirling in his mind. But she wasn’t there.

Instead, a small crowd had gathered at the edge of the school property. Curious, Yuki moved closer.

Shinichi, Raina, and Tadashi stood at the front, facing a group of kids who didn’t belong. Unmodified kids. Yuki recognized the unease in their postures, the way their gazes flicked nervously between the enhanced students.

Shinichi smirked as he lifted a heavy rock with one hand, tossing it between his palms like it was a toy. Beside him, Raina executed a perfect backflip, landing with grace that bordered on arrogance. Tadashi, ever the show-off, let arcs of electricity crackle between his fingers, the faint buzzing sound almost hypnotic.

The unmodified kids stared, some murmuring in awe, others taking small steps back. The unspoken divide between the two groups was stark, and Yuki felt it like a weight pressing on his chest.

Watching from a distance, Yuki felt an uneasy recognition in their expressions. He’d been there once, on the outside looking in, wondering what it would feel like to belong to this world of genetic superiority. That secret was something no one here knew.

He turned away, unable to watch any longer. Something about the scene left a bitter taste in his mouth, as if Shinichi and the others weren’t just displaying their abilities—they were mocking those without them.

In his advanced science class, the teacher began a lecture on the latest developments in genetic engineering. Her voice was crisp and confident, as she spoke about experimental technology that could redefine the field.

Yuki’s interest piqued.

She described theories of genetic inheritance, hinting at breakthroughs that might one day allow modifications to pass naturally between generations. The mention sent a jolt through Yuki. He remembered the data he’d glimpsed in his mother’s office—the concept of “gene transfer” scrolling across holographic screens. The idea that abilities could be passed down without injections or procedures seemed too extraordinary to imagine.

As the teacher’s words blurred into the background, Yuki’s thoughts spiraled.

If such technology became reality, what would it mean for unmodified people? Would it deepen the divide between those with enhancements and those without? And for someone like him, still uncertain about his own modifications, what role would he play in that future?

The bell rang, jolting him from his thoughts. The other students shuffled out, but Yuki lingered, his mind heavy with questions.

As the classroom emptied, Yuki approached the teacher, feeling the weight of his curiosity.

“Ah, Yuki Ito,” she said, folding her arms. Her gaze was sharp, assessing. “You’ve been rather quiet in class lately. Falling behind, are we?”

Her words stung, but Yuki forced himself to keep his expression neutral. “I’m just adjusting,” he said quietly. “It’s… a lot to take in.”

The teacher’s eyebrow arched, unimpressed. “Adjusting? This isn’t an ordinary school, Yuki. You’re here because you’re supposed to be capable of handling advanced concepts. We don’t waste time on those who can’t keep up.”

Yuki swallowed hard, the ache of inadequacy tightening in his chest. “I’m just… nervous. That’s all.”

Her gaze softened slightly, though her tone remained firm. “Nervousness won’t carry you far here. If you want to succeed, you need to rise to the challenge. This school doesn’t slow down for anyone.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured, feeling the weight of her expectations pressing down on him.

After a brief pause, she tilted her head. “Is there something else on your mind?”

Yuki hesitated, gathering his courage. “Do students here ever have different schedules? Like… alternate timetables?”

Her brow furrowed in confusion. “No. All students follow the same core curriculum. Why do you ask?”

Yuki hesitated again. “I thought… I thought some students might have special arrangements.”

The teacher’s frown deepened. “There are no exceptions here, Yuki. Everyone is held to the same standard.”

“Oh,” he muttered. “Right.”

He shifted, his stomach twisting as he prepared to ask the next question. “Do you know if there’s a student named Maya Aoki in our grade?”

The teacher’s expression shifted to mild confusion. “Maya Aoki? I don’t believe so. If we had a student by that name, I’d certainly know. Why do you ask?”

Yuki’s heart sank. “I thought… I might have overheard the name. Never mind.”

The teacher shrugged, already losing interest. “Focus on your studies, Yuki. You don’t have time for idle distractions.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, his voice quiet.

Walking through the empty hallways, Yuki’s thoughts churned. If Maya wasn’t registered as a student, then who was she?

The pieces weren’t adding up. Maya’s cryptic presence, Jun’s reaction to her, and now this—it all felt like a web of secrets he couldn’t untangle.

By the time he reached the exit, the sky had darkened, casting long shadows across the bright streets. The neon lights of the city flickered on, bathing everything in an artificial glow.

Yuki felt alone in the growing mysteries surrounding him. His mother’s research, Maya’s unexplained existence, and Jun’s guarded demeanor—it all swirled in his mind, heavy and unresolved.

He needed answers, but every step toward them only seemed to push him further into the unknown.