Candidate Evaluation Document - Advanced Nurturing High School Selection Room
Date: March 12th - Main Meeting Room
Interviewer Report: "The student demonstrates a disturbing apathy toward academic rigor. Throughout middle school, he barely passed with minimal effort, showing neither ambition nor awareness about consequences. No extenuating circumstances seem to explain his disengagement. Academically he is deficient, his physical abilities are slightly above average, and he comes off as socially detached. He does, however, meet the requirements for Class D. In addition, there are unverified rumors suggesting involvement with criminal gangs and a reported incident in Shibuya which may force him into a Class C placement, pending further investigation."
The soft rustle of paper fills the room as two managers stoop over the report and pore over it with a deep frown on their faces. The air smells of stale coffee and raw ambition.
"These marks not only border on negligence, but go even further. No academic initiative, no standout talents—just plain mediocrity. Even his physical scores barely hit the minimum. Why waste a spot on him?" One manager snaps, his nostrils twitching as he tosses the file onto the mahogany table.
The other manager nods, his fingers drumming a restless beat against the table. Outside, the distant bustle of the city blends with the shifting light through the window, silently marking the passage of time.
"And these rumors... Gang ties? Shibuya incidents? Unverified and entail substantial risk. If word leaks by, the school's reputation—"
Before the words can fully escape, the door slams open. In strides Chairman Sakayanagi, his confident step and slight knowing smile light up the room. Shadows coil around his smirk like cobwebs clinging to an old portrait.
The two managers straighten up in their seats, their hands flat against the table. The unfinished discussion hangs between them, severed mid-breath.
"Chairman Sakayanagi," they blurt in unison, their voices tripping over surprise.
"Sorry for the interruption," the Chairman apologizes, his gaze drifting across the room as he casually runs a hand over the sleeve of his suit.
"Chairman, this is... unprecedented." One manager catches himself, brushing his surprise off.
"We are currently discussing this candidate's admission. As you requested, we are diligently evaluating all applications. We suggest waiting until we've assessed all profiles before your review." He continues, his voice firm yet respectful.
"Ah, yes. I understand. But I have come to scrutinize this file personally before we reach a conclusion. While the records indicate a lack of drive and below-average performance, I believe there may be untapped potential in this student, qualities that these scores simply can't capture," the Chairman counters in a composed tone, his words measured.
"But the report is damning. He barely scraped through middle school, showing minimal effort and no exceptional talent. The decision was unanimous. What makes you want to revisit this case?" The other manager retorts, his tone unyielding.
"Because," Sakayanagi replies, his voice taking on a subtle edge, "we must consider the bigger picture and judge his results alongside his circumstances, not against them. I don't expect miracles. This is merely an equitable opportunity for him." Sakayanagi meets each faculty member's gaze, his expression unwavering. Meanwhile, the manager nearest to him shows a hint of irritation.
"Chairman Sakayanagi, the file suggests this student offers little to our academic environment. Is it really worth the risk? We cannot decide based on abstract 'qualities beyond numbers', we need reliable evidence." The manager taps the folder gently yet firmly against the polished wood, his disagreement with the Chairman's intervention palpable.
Sakayanagi's finger lingers on the candidate's photo, his smile deepening by degrees. "Our standards transcend the superficial and the obvious. Conformity breeds stagnation, and stagnation is a far greater detriment, a risk we cannot afford to take." His gaze remains locked on the candidate's photo, a spark of something unreadable in his gaze.
"With all due respect, Chairman, poetic phrases won't mitigate risks. Stagnation is a theory. Scandals, however..." he trails off, seeking support from his colleague.
The second manager strokes his moustache thoughtfully, the gesture buying time. "What my colleague is trying to say is, how can we measure this 'potential'? What exactly are we nurturing when there's no proven track record, only rumors, and a student who doesn't even bother to try?" With a fierce gaze on Sakayanagi, he demands.
The Chairman returns the gaze, a glimmer of amusement flickering in his eyes like a chess player recognizing a gambit.
"This institution is not a factory churning out polished gems. Sometimes, the roughest stones hide the sharpest blade" He lets silence stretch, watching the metaphor cut deeper than any file could.
"Keep those words in mind. I'll leave his evaluation to your open-minded discernment." Although his tone has relaxed, it still sounds authoritative.
The managers exchange a succession of cautious looks as a heavy quiet descends on the room, each trying to gauge the other's thoughts. After a long moment, one gives a stiff, barely perceptible nod.
"Very well. We... acknowledge your resolve, but only to a certain point. Remember, this is the second time you have pushed for a student like this... You can't consistently disregard the conventional process and ignore the rules. Rules are in place for a reason, and violating them sets a concerning precedent. It's crucial that you respect the established guidelines and processes, instead of circumventing them at will."
"I understand your reservations. They are natural, and you're absolutely right to uphold our standards." With a measured nod, Sakayanagi concedes, his voice remaining authoritative but becoming softer at the edges.
"But this decision is not being made carelessly. My suggestion for Ayanokoji was based on thorough analysis, not impulsive decisions. Yes, unconventional candidates present risks, but if we at Advanced Nurturing High School truly believe in cultivating potential, we must occasionally sift through rough sediment; trust my judgement, we'll proceed carefully, but with confidence in our ability to recognize brilliance where others only see mediocrity. After all, education is about transforming disorder into purpose."
Sakayanagi smiles faintly, observing the managers with a calmness that reminds them who is in control. "Patience. Everything will become clear in due time."
The managers' eyes meet in mute agreement, their resistance crumbling under Sakayanagi's relentless rhetoric. Thrice now, the Chairman has highlighted the idea of 'hidden potential,' a circular argument that appears impossible to dispute due to his confidence and persistence.
The room holds its breath; neither of the managers dares to challenge him further, aware that contradicting him can have consequences.
"Understood... We trust your judgment, Chairman Sakayanagi." the manager with the moustache concedes at last, he exhales, resigned. He studies the grain of the mahogany table rather than meet the Chairman's gaze.
Defeated, the second manager picks up a pen and reluctantly begins signing the document, a look of resignation on his face as he simply wants this argument to stop.
"Fine. We'll process the admission. But mark my words—if this backfires, the board will demand not only answers but they will hold you fully accountable."
"Answers are such fragile things, don't you think? They tend to... crumble under the weight of results."
Sakayanagi leans toward the glass, his silhouette outlined against the grey light outside. His intertwined fingers tense ever so slightly, as if holding back a secret.
"...But let the board ask their questions. I've always found... unorthodox strategies rather enlightening."
His reflection in the glass reveals a smile that never quite reaches his eyes, as the last ray of sunlight slips behind Tokyo's towering buildings.
Final Decision: Admission approved.