Hope‘s Peak Private Academy. An exclusive, government-sanctioned school accepting only students with exceptional abilities. Its stated goal is to raise the future ―hope‖ of the nation, and for that reason, it became known as ―The Academy of Hope‖. It‘s a source of envy, as it‘s common knowledge that one can gain great success in life just by being a Hope‘s Peak graduate. Certainly, many Hope‘s Peak graduates are now employed in high positions in every field of the professional world, so that statement is not an exaggeration.
There are two requirements to becoming a Hope‘s Peak student:
One must be currently enrolled in a high school.
One must super-excel at their field of expertise.
Hope‘s Peak doesn‘t hold any standard entrance exams, as the academy insists that the things tested by these kind of exams are meaningless for its purposes. Instead, students are scouted for by the academy‘s staff, who serve as both educators and researchers of extraordinary human ability. Some say Hope‘s Peak Academy‘s faculty members are much like parents, who made it their life‘s mission to find talent and nurture it in their children.
Right now, every member of that extraordinary faculty, as well as the academy itself, is facing an unprecedented, unparalleled crisis.
Hope‘s Peak Academy‘s faculty building is located in the academy‘s eastern quarter, and is the only building on campus students are forbidden to enter. The corridors of that building, usually busy with staff members going back and forth, were now empty and engulfed in an unnatural silence. The laboratories, the private rooms, and the luxurious personal offices had all been abandoned. Every man and woman who usually occupies these locations were currently gathered in a single place.
Meeting room 13.
Hope‘s Peak Academy‘s largest meeting room is located on the top floor of the faculty building, and has a maximum capacity of over 300. Nevertheless, with every single faculty member attending, it was fully packed. Not a single empty seat remained next to the long tables lined across the room.
But, for such a huge crowd, the room was relatively quiet. Only a single person‘s voice could be heard. The voice of Hope‘s Peak Academy‘s headmaster, Jin Kirigiri.
He faced the assembled faculty members from his position at the foremost table, and read from a printout he held in his hand. He spoke in an unaffected tone of voice, a blank expression on his face. The words printed on the paper came out of his mouth as if he was nothing more than an automaton reading them out. As far as Kirigiri was concerned, that was his most important duty. It didn‘t matter how out of the ordinary the subject on hand was. No, he didn‘t have any time to waste faced with the current state of confusion and unanswered questions. If they had time, there are much more important things they should have been doing –
A voice suddenly rose from the crowd. "Are you saying we‘re going to cover it up?"
Kirigiri raised his head, and saw three hundred people staring at him intently, waiting for a response.
It wasn‘t a piercing stare. It was much more uncomfortable than that. Three hundred people stared at him as if they were one entity, and Kirigiri felt every hair on his body tingling. He turned his head toward the four people sitting to his right, trying to escape the stare. They were stationed at the same frontmost table he was, their faces unusually wrinkled. Their eyes were closed, making those wrinkly faces even wrinklier. From Kirigiri‘s position, it almost looked like the four faces in front of him was one huge, giant wrinkle.
The four members of Hope‘s Peak Academy‘s Steering Committee looked as if they were about to give up.
An unintentional bitter smile appeared on Kirigiri‘s face. So that‘s how it‘s going to be. Oh, well. It‘s not as if I expected anything else. With those feelings festering inside his heart, Kirigiri turned back towards the crowd‘s stare. He put the paper aside. He was going to use his own words from now on.
"Let me make it perfectly clear," he emphasized. "We reached this decision after putting a lot of thought into the matter at the Hope‘s Peak Academy steering meeting that took place earlier today."
He felt the temperature in the room turning tepid. It was probably because every faculty member‘s body have grown stiff in attention. Kirigiri sipped from the cup in his hand, and continued.
"We understand, of course, how extremely irregular this decision is."
The wrinkly faces that were as much a part of the "we" he talked about as he was did not move an inch. It was as if they knew from the very beginning he was going to take the situation into his own hands.
"Make no mistake. We are not covering this incident up to escape responsibility. If I could end it all here and now by simply taking responsibility, I would do so in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, this particular incident cannot be dealt with that easily. It doesn‘t even matter if each and every one of us 'takes responsibility‘. We‘re dealing with a problem that exists in an entirely different dimension."
Kirigiri stopped for a moment, and finished his glass of water in a single gulp, trying to remain calm.
"...Don‘t get me wrong. I don‘t think we are completely blameless here. If we were, that 'Parade‘ out there would not be taking place right now."
Kirigiri pointed a finger at the curtained window. Several people turned to look at it, a severe expression on their faces.
"That 'Parade‘ has been growing larger and larger lately. The people in it think we‘re all despicable. Their opinion is not completely unfounded."
Kirigiri paused and moved his gaze across the room, looking at each of the faculty member‘s faces as if what he was about to say was personally directed at them, individually.
"Nevertheless, I refuse to believe Hope‘s Peak Academy‘s thesis, that talent itself is humanity‘s first and foremost hope, is wrong. You must realize that if information about this incident leaves the walls of this school, we are likely to lose it all. As far as I‘m concerned, that would be a gigantic loss for the human race. Every one of our successful graduates I‘ve spoken to feels the same way."
At the mention of Hope‘s Peak graduates, the crowd stirred a little.
"That‘s the reason I and the members of Hope‘s Peak Academy‘s Steering Committee reached our decision... We concluded that this incident shouldn‘t be made public after all."
He took a peek at the old men, but they remained still. Their blank expressions made it look as if what was going on did not concern them.
"...As I said before, I know more than anyone how irregular this decision is. Nevertheless, we have a duty, both as educators and as scientists. The duty to protect talent. Should human talent become the target of public hostility, it would be a great tragedy. Furthermore, there is one more thing I want you all to remember."
The three hundred faculty members waited in attention for Kirigiri‘s next words.
"The crimes committed may be terrible, but it doesn‘t change the fact that that student carries a very special brand of hope we raised all on our own."
The color of the faculty‘s eyes changed in an instant. They did not stir anymore. Everyone sat in complete silence. No one objected. No one could object. His words were narrow-minded, but they reflected the opinions of everyone in the room. They were all acting both as educators and as scientists, researching human talent. And, just like any other scientist becoming obsessed with their area of research, the staff of Hope‘s Peak Academy were obsessed with talent. Anyone who did not share that obsession did not belong in Hope‘s Peak.
That‘s why they listened to Kirigiri‘s words, and made their decision.
They had to protect their thesis. They had to protect the future they believed in. They had to protect the hope they believed in.
And so, they would do their best to cover up The Worst Incident in Hope‘s Peak Academy‘s History.