Cote: Elite in Action

—Seriously, if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I would never believe it. This would be unprecedented, even to imagine —murmured one of Kayden's father's colleagues while analyzing the child's file.

—Honestly, Keisuke-san, how the hell did you manage to make such a monster? —he added, making it clear how impressed he was referring to Kayden.

—You're quite rude calling someone else's child a monster, Takeshi —Keisuke responded, without taking his eyes off the documents.

—And how do you expect me to call him? —Takeshi replied with a frustrated sigh—. Do you know what's the most ridiculous thing about all this? The only thing Kayden has in common with a child is his body size! And not even that. His height and physical build already far exceed that of kids his age. I just can't see him as a seven-year-old.

He flipped through the pages of the file in disbelief, observing the notes on Kayden's academic abilities. There were topics far beyond the university level, concepts even adult experts would struggle to understand and execute. But according to the records, Kayden had no difficulty mastering them. It was a talent that bordered on the absurd.

—Hey, Keisuke-san —Takeshi said, leaving the file on the table—, if I had to describe Kayden's existence in one word, it would be "perfect." There are no flaws. Everything about him surpasses any known human record.

Keisuke let out a brief laugh.

—Kayden isn't perfect like you think —he corrected, reclining in his chair—. Excelling in all areas doesn't mean being perfect. In fact, perfection as such doesn't exist. If you really reached perfection, wouldn't it be terribly boring? There would be no room for improvement.

Takeshi raised an eyebrow, reflecting on those words.

—I suppose you're right... But what would Kayden lack to be a perfect being?

—If we're talking about what it means to be human —Keisuke began, with a thoughtful air—, Kayden has some obvious flaws. Did you know that, despite his taste buds being much more developed than anyone else's, he doesn't have a favorite food? Or that, even though he can excel in any sport, he has no attachment to any?

—So, if Kayden doesn't feel attachment or desire, does that mean he doesn't feel emotions either? —Takeshi asked, still intrigued—. But that doesn't make sense... I've seen him genuinely smile when he defeats his opponents or when he solves a difficult problem. He even seems to enjoy it.

Keisuke let out a light laugh, as if he had heard that observation many times before.

—The truth is, Kayden doesn't feel the need to smile or make expressions most of the time —he explained—. What you see is merely a replica of what he's observed or learned.

—A replica? You mean... he's pretending?

—Not exactly —Keisuke responded, shaking his head—. Kayden has the ability to show emotions, but he rarely does so because he actually feels them. For the most part, he simply reproduces what he's read, seen, or heard. It's as if he imitates the gestures he thinks are appropriate for each situation.

Takeshi looked even more confused.

—Then... what about his victorious smile? Or when he seems genuinely interested in something?

—Those are learned responses —Keisuke replied, crossing his arms—. His mother had a lot to do with that. Since he was little, she taught him that showing appropriate emotions at the right moment makes people around him feel more comfortable. And since Kayden remembers absolutely everything he sees and hears, he reproduces those expressions with incredible precision.

Takeshi was left thinking, processing the information.

—So... he's not actually enjoying victory. He's just showing what "he should" show, right?

—Exactly —Keisuke affirmed—. For Kayden, the concept of "enjoyment" is something he understands in theory, but not in practice. His brain works logically and analytically, and while he can recognize emotional patterns, he rarely experiences them genuinely.

—That sounds... sad —Takeshi murmured, looking at the file as if searching for any sign that contradicted this—. I mean, it's not that he doesn't want to feel, he just doesn't know how to truly do it.

Takeshi couldn't help but feel a knot in his stomach thinking about Kayden's lost childhood. Was it really fair to call him perfect when he seemed more like a puppet of his own talent?

Keisuke nodded, his expression softening slightly.

—Precisely. That's the irony of his genius. Even though he can master any area of knowledge and excel in any skill, he still struggles with the most essential part of being human.

—And isn't there any way to... help him with that? —Takeshi asked, genuinely concerned.

Keisuke let out a long sigh.

—The solution is simpler than it seems. The problem lies in his environment. Since birth, only his mother, myself, and the instructors I hired have had close interaction with him. No one else. His world has been limited to books, trainers, and his own progress. He's mostly lived in isolation, protected from any external influence.

Keisuke lowered his gaze for a moment, wondering if he had done the right thing by letting his son grow up that way.

—So... what he needs is to be exposed to the real world? To other people? —Takeshi raised an eyebrow, surprised.

—Exactly. He needs to interact with both young people and adults, face situations that he can't predict or control. That will allow him to experience emotions he's never felt before. Human relationships are chaotic and unpredictable, and that's where Kayden will fill his gaps. And he will, because he always learns, even when he doesn't expect it.

Takeshi let out a short laugh, still incredulous.

—So, the next challenge for the "perfect child" is learning how to be human? I never thought something like that could be considered a challenge.

—For Kayden, anything he hasn't mastered yet is a challenge —Keisuke responded, with determination in his eyes—. And I'm sure he'll make it.

As Takeshi left the room, he couldn't get the image of Kayden out of his head: a prodigy trapped in his own brilliance. Maybe one day he would find a reason to smile that wasn't dictated by logic.