"You knew this too, didn't you?"
The voice was like a shard of ice, cutting through Hikigaya's internal celebration of being officially labelled as garbage.
He didn't need to look to know that Horikita was staring at him. After a month of sitting next to her, he had developed a sixth sense for her disapproval. It usually felt like a heavy weight; right now, it felt like a laser burning a hole through his skull.
He kept his eyes fixed on the blackboard. "Knew what?"
"About this entire hierarchy system," she whispered, her voice tight. "About us being 'defective'... That is what you wanted to ask me back then, isn't it? When you stopped yourself mid-sentence?"
A cold prickle ran up Hikigaya's spine. He didn't turn his head. There was no escape route here. And lying would only make things worse.
"Uh… yeah. Something like that."
'Of course, I thought about telling her,' He mused internally. 'But let's be real—I didn't have the guts.'
He pictured the scene in his head: turning to this bitchy, arrogant girl who carried herself with the grace of royalty and telling her, 'Hey, just so you know, the school thinks you're garbage just like the rest of us.'
Yeah. No.
If he'd tried that, she probably wouldn't have even let him finish the sentence before trying to stab him with that compass she once pulled on Ayanokoji.
Not metaphorically. Like… actually.
This girl was crazy and scary too. Believe it or not, she really had tried to stab Ayanokoji once, he'd seen it himself. She probably scared the poor guy half to death and Ayanokoji was the type who looked unfazed by just about everything, which honestly made it worse.
There was no way Hikigaya wanted to be next. That was exactly why he avoided unnecessary conversations with Horikita. Speak only when required. Keep responses short. Never try to corner her too much and absolutely never deliver news that might provoke a lethal reaction.
"I just didn't feel it was necessary to tell you at the time," Hikigaya said "It wouldn't have changed the fact that we were already in the hole. I figured it was better to let you… keep your momentum."
"My momentum?" she hissed. "Are you mocking me, Hikigaya-kun?"
"No, that's not it," he replied.
"So, you decided I was too fragile to handle the truth?" she shot back. "That I needed you to protect my feelings from a label?"
"Now you're just straight-up misunderstanding things," Hikigaya said as he let out a sigh.
"You're insufferable," she said sharply. "Absolutely insufferable."
Hikigaya didn't retort. He just let the insult wash over him like a gentle breeze. Being called insufferable was a small price to pay for keeping his physical integrity intact.
Around them, the classroom was murmuring for a while.
"Does that mean… we're really the worst class in the whole school?"
"Dead last? Seriously?"
"I thought it was random…"
Sudou suddenly shot up from his seat.
"What the hell?!" he shouted, slamming both hands down on his desk, not hard enough to break anything, but loud enough to draw every eye in the room. "Won't the other classes start making fun of us now? They're gonna think we're all morons!"
It wasn't an unreasonable fear. In a merit-based system, Class D wasn't just a designation; it was a target. Every other class now had a reason to feel superior, and for someone like Sudou, whose pride was his primary armor, the idea of being the school's laughingstock was a kind of fear that make sense.
"What? You're still worried about your dignity, Sudou? Even in this situation?"
She tapped her fingers against the podium, the sound echoing in the silent room.
"Well then, if you despise the label so much, there is a simple solution. Work to make your class into the best one."
Not only Sudo but entire class was taken aback by her words. "Huh?"
"Your class points aren't just linked to the amount of money you receive each month," she continued. "They also determine your class ranking."
"Wait what?" someone muttered.
"In other words," Chabashira-sensei continued, "this ranking is not fixed. Surpass another class in Class Points, and you will take their position—Class C, Class B, or even Class A."
'Wait...' Hikigaya's eyes narrowed as he watched the teacher's expression. 'Is she actually baiting everyone here?'
The way she said it—it almost sounded like encouragement. First, she had plunged them into the icy reality of their position as the "worst" class, making them feel the weight of their own "defectiveness." Now, she was handing them a ladder. It was the classic "carrot and stick" routine. She had whipped them with the stick, and now she was dangling the carrot of Class A right in front of their noses.
He looked around. Many of his classmates had this weird glazed-over look of imagination.
'Well, I guess it makes sense. When people are shoved all the way to the bottom, they can't help but start picturing the top.' He thought.
At the very least, it was a relief to know that this woman wasn't doing all of this purely for her own amusement. He even half-suspected she enjoyed watching them squirm. But there was a calculated edge to her cruelty. Maybe she really was pushing them toward a goal.
"No need to be so discouraged," she said, her tone almost casual now. "Even though you are the lowest of the four classes, you performed better than anyone anticipated for a Class D. If you continue behaving as you have been, you might not lose any more points next month."
The oppressive air in the room thinned just a little. It wasn't praise, not really, but it was the closest thing to it they'd gotten all morning. A tiny lifeline in a sea of bad news.
'Yep, seems like she really is trying to motivate,' Hikigaya noted.
"Sensei, since we're aiming to improve, could you explain in detail how exactly points are added or deducted? If we have the specifics, we can do even better." Hirata again stood up and asked.
It was a reasonable request.
Chabashira-sensei shook her head without a hint of hesitation. "I cannot tell you. We cannot disclose the methods behind our student evaluation."
"But why, Sensei?"
"It's the same as any other organization, Hirata" she replied, "When you enter a company, it is the company's choice whether or not to tell you exactly how it evaluates its employees. You are expected to be 'excellent' regardless of whether the criteria are posted on the wall. Figuring out what the 'boss' wants is part of the job."
'Damn. They really do think of us as corporate Rats in training, don't they?'
Hikigaya felt a bitter chill.
'I really do wonder... what kind of student does this place actually expects us all to become,' he thought, a scowl deepening on his face.
"Now then, I have one more bit of bad news to share with you all."
Chabashira-sensei stuck another sheet of paper up on the board. It listed the names of everyone in the class, sorted by value. A number stood next to everyone's name.
"Judging from these," she continued as her heels clacked across the floor, "it seems we have quite a few idiots in this class."
Her gaze swept over the room.
"These are the results of the short test you took some time ago. Your sensei was so pleased by your excellent performance." Her lips curved faintly. "Honestly, what in the world were some of you studying in junior high to fail even this?"
There was a red line drawn on the paper, separating the four people in question from the rest of the class. Among those four, Kikuchi had scored highest, with thirty-one points. Anyone with a score equal to or lower than Kikuchi's had failed.
Aside from them, most of the class hovered around the 70 range, with only a handful of students scoring above eighty-five.
Hikigaya scanned the list carefully, eyes moving downward until—
There. Hikigaya Hachiman: 52
"…Fifty-two."
He wanted to pump his fist in the air. Instead, he just let out a long, internal sigh of relief, slumping slightly in his chair. 'I passed. Komachi, look at this! Your Onii-chan actually passed!'
All those grueling study sessions, the extra hours grinding in the library, and the shameful visits to the staff room to ask teachers for remedial help had actually paid off.
Without that, he was absolutely certain his score would've been…
His eyes slid sideways.
Sudou: 18
'…Yeah.'
Ike: 26
'Ouch.'
And then, Yama—
'Nope.'
He stopped himself before looking any further. 'Yamauchi Haruki… let's not. Some things are too pitiful to acknowledge, even for me.'
Still, most of the class had landed around seventy. That alone was surprising. He looked around and saw Ayanokoji's name.
Ayanokoji: 60
Hikigaya couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie. The only guy he was able to get along with, even a little, wasn't too far off from him.
'Though,' Hikigaya thought, eyeing the boy's back, 'he feels like he has a good head on his shoulders. I feel like he can definitely score better than this. Maybe he just didn't bother to study too much?'
That, at least, was understandable. If Hikigaya had the same baseline knowledge and could pass with minimal effort, he would've done the exact same thing. Study just enough to clear the bar, and then go back to lazing around all day.
Unfortunately, reality had not been so kind to him.
Before he could sink any deeper into self-pity, Chabashira-sensei spoke again, "I'm so glad. If this were an actual test, four of you would've had to drop out today."
"D-drop out? What do you mean?" Yamauchi muttered.
"Oh, what, did I not explain this to you?" she asked, feigning surprise in the way only a truly terrifying teacher can. "If you fail a midterm or final exam in this school, you have to drop out. Immediate expulsion. If we applied that rule to this test, anyone who scored below thirty-four points would be out. You guys really are stupid, aren't you?"
"Wh-what?!" Ike wailed, echoed by the other failure in the bottom group.
"Hey, don't jerk us around, sensei! Don't joke about kicking us out!" Sudo shouted, standing up so fast his chair rattled.
"Yeah! Expulsion is no joke, sensei!" another voice joined in, trembling.
"Frankly, I'm also at a loss," Chabashira-sensei said coolly. "These are the school rules. You should prepare for the worst."
"The teacher's right. There do seem to be a lot of morons here." Kouenji wore a smug grin while polishing his nails, legs propped on the desk.
"What the hell, Kouenji? You scored below the red line, too!"
"Pah. Where exactly are you looking, boy? Look again."
"Huh? Kouenji is… huh?"
Starting from the bottom of the page, Sudou scanned upward, and there he found Kouenji Rokosuke's name. Unbelievably, Kouenji had tied for the top spot, scoring 90.
Then he froze. "…No way."
"He solved that problem?"
"I thought he was just a muscle-brained idiot like Sudou—"
"Hey!—" Sudou barked automatically, before suddenly feeling a dead gaze landing on him from behind. He decided shut his mouth.
Chabashira-sensei ignored the rising chatter entirely.
"Oh, one more thing. This school, which operates under government supervision, boasts a high rate of advancement into elite education and workforce placement. That is a well-known fact. It's very likely that most of you have chosen a college or future workplace with that in mind."
Well, naturally. This school boasted the highest rates of advancement in the whole country. Rumors claimed that simply graduating from this place could land you in a top-tier university or a prestigious company. Many even say that it was practically equivalent to receiving a recommendation to Tokyo University itself.
For most of the students here, that promise was probably the entire reason they had enrolled.
But for him, it was pretty different story.
He was here because no other high school in Chiba was willing to accept him. At some point, he'd already given up on continuing his education properly, settling for the vague idea that an open high school would be "good enough."
The only reason he'd even applied here was because his little sister had refused to let the issue go.
Day after day. Night after night.
Nagging. Pleading. Guilt-tripping.
And now, here he was against all odds. Even though he still wasn't entirely sure how he'd managed to get in.
"However, nothing comes easy in this world. Mediocre people such as yourselves would have to be naive to think that you could easily get into the college or workplace of your choice."
Chabashira-sensei's words carried throughout the room.
"In other words, you're saying that if we want to get into the company or college of our choice, we must, at minimum, surpass Class C?" Hirata asked.
"You're wrong. To make your dreams of a bright future come true, your only option is to overtake Class A. This school guarantees nothing for any other students."
Silence.
Then—
"Th-that's absurd!" Yukimura cried out, panic breaking through his composure. "We weren't told anything like that!"
The reaction was understandable. For someone like Yukimura, who took great pride in his academic skill, it must have been a crushing blow. He had come here expecting a ticket to success, only to find out he was holding a lottery ticket with bad odds.
"How disgraceful. There's nothing more pitiful than men losing their cool." As if prompted by Yukimura's outburst, Kouenji let out a sigh
"Don't you feel dissatisfied being in Class D, Kouenji?" Yukimura asked, turning to him, probably seeking validation from another top student who would share his frustration.
"Dissatisfied? Why would I feel dissatisfied? I don't understand."
Unfortunately for him, the gap between their ways of thinking was insurmountable.
"Because the school has labeled us as delinquents and failures!" Yukimura shot back. "They've practically said there's no guarantee we'll advance to higher education or even secure employment!"
"Pah. Utter nonsense." Kouenji continued polishing his nails, not even sparing Yukimura a glance. "It's so marvelously stupid that I struggle to find the words. The school simply hasn't recognized my potential yet."
He smiled faintly, basking in his own certainty.
"I pride myself on my greatness. I value, respect, and regard myself more highly than anyone else. So being arbitrarily placed into Class D means nothing to me. Even if I were to drop out tomorrow, I would be perfectly fine."
His smile widened. "In fact, I'm one hundred percent certain the school would come crawling back, begging me to return."
"Besides, I don't care in the slightest if the school does or doesn't assist me to higher education or the workforce. It's been decided that I will lead the Kouenji conglomerate group. Whether I'm in Class D or Class A is a trivial matter."
It was true that for a man whose future was already decided, getting into Class A was far from a necessity. Yukimura, at a loss for words, simply sat back down.
Setting aside the theatrics, strangely enough, Hikigaya didn't completely disagree with the core of what Koenji just said. What the school thought of them didn't really matter on a personal level. Besides, they wouldn't have built a ladder if they didn't intend for people to climb it.
On top of that… they weren't that far from Class C anymore. One solid push from below, or a single careless slip from the classes above, and the balance could shift entirely.
But as he dug deeper into the thought, a familiar, sinking feeling settled in his gut. 'What new troubles are going to come my way because of this?'
"Speaking of which," Kouenji's voice rang out, breaking Hikigaya's train of thought. "Ghost Boy, you sure are silent today. Usually, it's you who is asking questions almost every five minutes."
Hikigaya felt several gazes sweep toward him. 'Hey-Hey why the heck are you talking even to me, now?'
"I'm just waiting," Hikigaya answered, his voice flat. "It would've been rude of me to interrupt the explanation while everyone else is waiting for an answer from the teacher. Even I have consideration you know."
"Oh? Is that so? That is quite How hard to believe." Kouenji chuckled, finally pausing his nail-polishing to turn around. He looked directly at Hikigaya, "I wouldn't have guessed someone so… involved in the class's current condition would call themselves considerate."
Hikigaya felt a dull irritation creep up his spine. '…So, it was going to be like this, huh? Is he trying to—'
He exhaled slowly. '…Damn it. I can't just keep taking these jabs every time he feels like it. If I let him get comfortable, he'll start thinking it's fine to keep poking. And once that happens, it stops being playful. He'll keep doing it. And honestly… it's getting annoying.'
It wasn't even the first time. Over the past month, Kouenji had made a habit of prodding him like this casual, effortless, like it barely took any thought. And sure, sometimes he wasn't entirely wrong. That almost made it worse. Insight or not, Hikigaya had no intention of letting himself become Kouenji's favorite target.
You know what? Fine. If Kouenji wanted to play it this way, then fine. It wasn't like he was the only one who could see through people and poke at the parts they'd rather not talk about.
Hikigaya's lips twisted—slowly, deliberately—into something that wasn't quite a smile. It was too wide at the edges, too thin in the middle, the kind of expression that made people instinctively lean away. His dead-fish eyes narrowed just enough to look like they were glinting, even though the classroom lights hadn't changed.
"Oh, you know what?" he said, voice suddenly light, almost cheerful in a way that felt deeply wrong. "I actually dooo… have a question now that you mention it."
The classroom went dead silent. Even Horikita looked like she wanted to slide her chair a few inches further away from me, seeing that disturbing creepy expression.
Hikigaya leaned forward, elbows on the desk, chin resting on interlaced fingers like he was genuinely curious.
"You see, I've been wondering for a while now…"
He let the pause stretch just long enough to make it uncomfortable.
"There's someone among us," he continued slowly, "who thinks they are the greatest, the strongest, the most handsome, and the most brilliant person in existence. Someone who also happens to come from an absurdly wealthy family—so wealthy that they probably don't even need to know what a 'future' looks like to live a wonderful life."
He tilted his head.
"I mean, it's baffling, isn't it? Why would a being of such divine perfection ever come to a prison-like place like this? What kind of tragic, soul-crushing circumstances could have possibly compelled them to be here? When I think about it… my heart just can't help but feel so, so bad for them."
He let out a soft sigh.
"To be a perfection trapped in a cage with monkeys like us... it's just so pitiful. It's the most tragic thing I've ever heard. My heart is practically breaking for this 'greatest person' among us."
The sarcasm dripped so thickly it was practically visible. A few classmates coughed. Someone in the back choked on their own spit.
"That's what I've been wondering this whole time. Care to answer that?"
Kouenji's polishing stopped completely. His crimson eyes narrowed, studying Hikigaya like he was seeing him properly for the first time.
The silence stretched.
Then Kouenji laughed.
It started as a low, velvety chuckle, then swelled into something rich and delighted, like he'd finally been given a reason to laugh.
"Marvelous," he said, clapping once, slowly. "Truly marvelous, Ghost-boy. I didn't know you had it in you to wield mockery with such… elegance."
He leaned back, crossing his arms, "I'll allow it. That was well played. You really do have a talent for poking at the most interesting places, don't you? How rare."
"I try my best," he muttered, the smile vanishing instantly as he slumped back again. "But really, Sensei, please continue. My heart can only take so much sympathy for the elite before I start crying."
Chabashira-sensei cleared her throat, looking at him with an expression that sat somewhere between 'Somewhat impressed' and 'mildly concerned for his mental health.'
"It looks like your bubbles have been burst," Chabashira-sensei said, her voice cutting through the lingering tension of Hikigaya's exchange with Kouenji. "If you had simply understood the harsh reality of the situation from the start, then this long homeroom period might have meant something."
She paused, eyes sweeping the room.
"Your midterm exams are in three weeks. Please think things over, and be careful not to drop out. I have confidence that you can find a way to avoid getting red marks on your report cards. If at all possible, challenge yourself to act in a way befitting a skilled individual."
As she said that, a quiet thought surfaced in Hikigaya's mind something that had been nagging at him since the beginning of her explanation.
Before he could chase it any further, Chabashira-sensei turned on her heel and strode out of the room. This time, perhaps because of the weight of her words and the mild chaos they'd left behind, no one stood to greet her. The door closed with a firm click behind her.
For a brief moment, no one moved.
Then, quietly, Hikigaya pushed his chair back and stood up. Without a word or a glance at anyone else, he slipped out of the classroom and into the hallway.
------0------
The moment the door clicked shut behind Hikigaya, the atmosphere in the room shifted from tension to mild chaos.
Ayanokoji watched the empty space where Hikigaya had been sitting a few moments ago. His departure was quiet, but the words he had left hanging in the air were anything but.
"To be a perfection trapped in a cage with monkeys like us..."
He replayed the phrase in his mind. It felt like the kind of remark meant to test what sort of reaction it would draw. Even so, for a brief moment, he couldn't help but sense the heat behind those words.
As Ayanokoji looked at Kouenji, who was brushing his hair in front of a mirror, completely unbothered by anything around him, he too felt a strange sense of curiosity about what Hikigaya had just said.
Hikigaya's question was valid, logically speaking. Kouenji was the heir to a conglomerate, wealthy beyond imagination, physically gifted and sharp enough to succeed at whatever he chose. Why would such a "perfect existence" choose to come to a place like this? A place where you're stripped of your freedom, monitored by the government, and forced to live in a dormitory?
For a fleeting second, the question felt incredibly heavy. 'Why would someone like him end up in a place like this?'
He looked down at his own hands.
'Well, I suppose rich eccentrics have their own logic,' he concluded, pushing the thought away before it could properly settle. It didn't apply to him, of course. He wasn't some "perfect being" or the heir to a conglomerate. He was just a student who wanted to experience a normal high school life, away from… well, away from his home.
His situation was completely different from Kouenji's. There was no overlap there at all.
"I worked much harder! Why do our points have to be the same?"
"I wish we had gotten more points…"
The classroom erupted into an uproar… or rather, chaos. The reality of their situation was finally sinking in, and it wasn't pretty.
"Forget about the points. What the hell about this class? Why was I put into Class D?!" Yukimura cried resentfully. A thin layer of sweat covered his forehead.
"Wait, does this mean that we can't get into college now? Why did we even go to this school? Does Sae-chan-sensei hate us or something?"
None of the other students could hide their confusion.
"I understand that you're all confused right now, but everyone needs to calm down." Hirata, sensing the classroom tipping toward crisis, stood and attempted to rein everyone in.
"How are we supposed to calm down? Aren't you frustrated that she called us a bunch of failures?!" Yukimura said.
"Even if I was, isn't it better for us to band together so we can turn things around?" Hirata asked.
"Turn things around? I don't even agree with how we were sorted in the first place!"
"I understand. However, sitting here whining won't help us right now."
"What did you say?" Yukimura quickly went to Hirata and forcefully grasped his collar.
"Calm down, you two, okay? I'm sure the teacher was just being harsh to push us forward. And besides, we're not that far behind Class C. If we all keep working hard like before, I'm sure we can overtake them."
That was Kushida. She slipped between the two and separated them, gently taking Yukimura's balled fist. Just as anyone would expect, Yukimura didn't try to hurt her and reflexively took half a step back.
Hirata was trying his best, but the tension in the classroom still lingered. Suddenly, he stopped mid-sentence. His gaze drifted over the heads of the students, landing on the back of the middle row.
Empty.
"Everyone, please give me a moment. There's… something I need to check on," Hirata said, looking concerned. "I'll be back in a moment."
Without waiting for a reply, he excused himself and hurried out of the classroom, heading in the exact same direction Hikigaya had gone.
Ayanokoji turned his attention back to the board and took out his cell phone, snapping a picture of the paper with the class point totals.
Horikita, sitting next to him and looking like she had just swallowed a lemon, noticed immediately.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"I haven't been able to figure out how the points are calculated yet," Ayanokoji replied. "You've been taking notes too, haven't you? If I could figure out how many points were deducted for things like being late or talking in class, it'd be easier to come up with countermeasures."
"Wouldn't it be difficult to figure out those details at this stage?" she said. "Besides, I don't think you can resolve this simply by investigating."
As Horikita had said, it certainly was difficult to conclude anything based on the limited information they had. On top of that, her usual calm, composed demeanor was gone. She seemed noticeably impatient.
"Are you trying to get into college too, Horikita?" he asked.
"Why do you ask?"
"Well, when we learned about the difference between Classes A and D, you looked shocked. And your attitude toward Hikigaya… when he admitted that he knew, it was kind of strange."
"But so was almost everyone in this class, more or less," she countered. "If they'd told us at the start, that would've been one thing. But to explain it at this stage? It's unthinkable."
She wasn't wrong. There was probably plenty of discontented grumbling coming from Classes C and B as well. After all, the school treated every class except Class A like leftovers. Trying to reach the top was likely their best option.
"By the way, Horikita" he said, "Were you the one who told Hirata about the hidden assessment? You know, the stuff about how individual merit supposedly worked?"
"No. I didn't tell him," She said flatly.
"Then… was it Hikigaya who told him, then?" Ayanokoji asked.
"That would be the most likely explanation," Horikita replied without hesitation. "Hirata wouldn't have pieced something like that together so quickly. And no one else in this class would have bothered."
"Is that so," he said. "But then why would he tell Hirata, the wrong version of it?"
"You're very oddly interested in this, Ayanokoji-kun," Horikita said, her eyes narrowing at him.
"Not really. I was just feeling curious," he replied.
"Oh really?"
"You're strangely curious about this," she said. "That's not like you."
Ayanokoji blinked once. "Is it?"
"Yes," she said. "At least from what I've seen, you don't usually think this much about other people's motives."
"That's not true, actually," he replied, trying to inject a bit of defensiveness into my voice. "I do think about it. I mean, I'm trying to make more friends, aren't I? It's hard to do that if you don't at least try to read between lines."
Horikita let out a quiet scoff. "And how is that working out for you?"
"…Working out?" he echoed.
"Yes," she said dryly. "You say you're trying to make friends, yet I don't see you surrounded by people. If anything, you're still mostly on your own."
"That's harsh. I've made progress," Ayanokoji said, though even he knew his words lacked conviction.
"Oh? Who? Hikigaya-kun? If that's your example, you might want to reconsider what 'making progress' looks like."
"That isn't necessarily true," he replied "Hikigaya is… well, he's a start. Besides, it's not like I'm not trying. It's just that the 'timing' in this class is off."
"The timing?" Horikita asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I don't know… everyone already seems busy getting comfortable. If I walk in now, I'd just mess up the picture. It's kind of like...like you know sitting down in the wrong seat during a movie and realizing halfway through you're not supposed to be there."
Horikita turned to look at him, her eyes narrowing.
"Ayanokoji-kun."
"Hm?"
"You're starting to sound exactly like him," she said, her voice carrying a faint note of distaste. "It's unsettling. Have you been spending too much time together?"
"Umm… no not really?" he asked, genuinely confused. "Why do you think that?"
"That sounded like some weird self-preserving excuse," she said calmly. "Just like those weird things he says from time to time. Don't tell me his rot is contagious and you're getting affected by it too."
After hearing that Ayanokoji couldn't help but think Was he being really influenced? He didn't feel any different. But then again, he supposed that was how social interaction was meant to work. You spend time around people, and you start picking up their habits like catching a cold without realizing it.
It was an odd thought that lingered longer than he expected.
His gaze drifted down to the empty Max Coffee can resting beside his desk. He turned it slowly with his fingers, already aware it had been empty for a while.
He glanced toward the door Hikigaya had gone through, then away just as quickly. It wasn't as if they were particularly close. They didn't talk every day, didn't eat together, didn't share anything you'd normally call personal. And yet… things between them had been oddly smooth.
Pleasant, maybe.
That was probably the right word. Comfortable in a way that didn't demand anything.
Was that what friendship was supposed to feel like? He had been friends with Ike, Yamauchi, and Sudo for a few days before they stopped hanging around him after their conflict with Hikigaya. It didn't feel all that different, and yet it wasn't quite the same either.
He wasn't sure, and at least for now, he didn't feel the need to pin it down.
Still, Horikita's words stuck with him more than he liked. The idea that habits could transfer so easily that simply being around someone could nudge your thinking without you noticing. If that was true, then maybe it wasn't strange at all that his thoughts had drifted the way they did.
His thumb pressed lightly into the empty can, crumpling it just a little.
He looked around the classroom and wondered where someone like him and Hikigaya would fit into the picture.
Maybe it didn't matter yet. At least, not right now.
If there really was a place they belonged—something worth understanding—then time would take care of it. Not by giving him an answer outright, but by putting him in a position to notice it.
He was sure of that.
Sooner or later, he would definitely get the chance to find out. And when he does, he would see it through to the end.
------0------
Hirata closed the classroom door behind him, the muffled sounds of his shouting classmates fading into a dull hum.
He moved quickly through the hallway, his mind racing. His eyes were already scanning ahead.
'I need to find him.'
The tension he'd been holding back in the classroom finally surfaced now that he was alone.
As he moved down the hallway, his thoughts drifted back to that night. The call he hadn't been able to forget since.
------0------
The phone had rung late too late for casual conversation. Hirata had answered on the second ring, already half-expecting him to reach out to him.
"Ah—hello?" Hirata's voice was hushed, "Is this Hikigaya-kun?"
"Yeah. It's me," Hikigaya's voice came through, sounding tired, "Sorry for calling this late."
"Oh, no, it's fine," Hirata said quickly, sitting up on his bed. "You mentioned this morning that you wanted to talk about something, right? Is now okay?"
There was a brief pause. Hirata gripped the phone tighter. Hikigaya wasn't the type to reach out for small talk.
"…Is it something serious?" Hirata asked gently.
"Pretty much," Hikigaya answered. "It's about our class."
That alone had been enough to make Hirata focus completely.
Hirata felt himself go still. "I see. Then… yeah. I'm listening."
"Alright. Then I'll get straight to the point," Hikigaya said. "Our class is in danger. The way things are going right now, everyone in the class is going to be affected. Very badly."
Hirata felt a cold pit of unease open in his stomach. "Why? What do you mean?"
"Why? Because every action has consequences. And the way our class is right now… we're going to have to pay for them."
Hirata's mind flashed immediately to the points. The behavior. The little things everyone pretended didn't matter. Even something he too wanted to ignore.
"…Regarding our points and behavior, right?" he asked.
"Yeah," Hikigaya said. "It's looking pretty bad. Next month… no one's gonna get any money. And when that happens, it's going to cause chaos."
Hirata felt his throat tighten. Chaos. He could already picture it arguments, conflicts and fractures that might not heal too easily.
"Then… what should we do and what exactly is going on?" he asked. "Is it already out of our hands?"
"If it was, I wouldn't have called," Hikigaya said. "If you do exactly as I say, we'll definitely be saved. But this is something only you can do, Hirata. So, I need your assurance."
"I'll do it," Hirata had replied instantly. "I'll do anything as long as everyone in the class is okay."
"Good. Then listen carefully…"
------0------
After that Hikigaya told him about that the 100,000 points they had received were not a fixed allowance, but the result of a hidden evaluation system the school had been running since the start of April. Each student had been assigned 100 (individual merit points), with their monthly income determined by how many of those points remained at the end of the month. These points were being deducted based on student behavior such as talking in class, sleeping, poor attitude, or lack of seriousness rather than just academics.
The school's apparent leniency was intentional, meant to observe how students managed their freedom and the presence of surveillance cameras suggested that every action was being monitored. In short, they were already in the middle of an exam, one where responsibility and consequences fell entirely on the individual.
The realization left Hirata reeling. He tried to ask how Hikigaya knew all of this, but the answer never came. Hikigaya only told him to relay everything to the class using his so-called ultimate Riaju zone, and then left it at that.
Lost in thought, Hirata rounded the corner at the end of the hallway and slowed to a halt. Hikigaya was there, seemingly in the middle of a conversation with Chabashira-sensei.
Hirata instinctively pulled back toward the wall, not wanting to intrude.
The conversation seemed to be winding down. Hikigaya's posture was as slumped as ever, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.
"Anyway, thanks for hearing me out, Sensei" Hikigaya said, his voice low but audible in the quiet corridor.
She gave a brief nod, then turned and walked away without a word, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. As he watched her go, he hadn't expected to see the two of them together and couldn't help but feel curious about it but decided to hold back.
Hikigaya sighed, ran a hand through his messy hair, and finally noticed Hirata standing there.
"Oh. Hirata, you're here" he said, his voice flat. "Sorry for causing you trouble like this, The whole homeroom thing... I know I put a lot on your shoulders."
Hirata shook his head quickly, his expression softening. "No, it's nothing compared to how things could have gone. If you hadn't told me anything that night, we wouldn't have even had a chance to try. But... Hikigaya-kun, I have some questions."
Hikigaya shifted his weight, looking toward the end of the hall. "Yeah, I figured. Look, I've got to answer nature's urgent call. Let's talk in there."
Hirata blinked, a bit caught off guard by the bluntness, but he followed silently.
The washroom was empty, the air smelling faintly of citrus cleaner.
They stood side-by-side at the urinals, the silence only broken by the sound of running water. Hirata, feeling the awkwardness of the setting, tried to bridge the gap with some safe territory.
"The weather's been getting a bit warmer, hasn't it? I was thinking that maybe for the study sessions, we could—"
"You don't have to do that," Hikigaya interrupted, "No need for the small talk. Just say what you actually want to say."
Hirata went quiet for a moment, finishing up and heading to the sinks. As he lathered his hands with soap, he caught Hikigaya's reflection in the mirror.
"Why did you give me the false version of the assessment?" Hirata asked directly. "You told me the school was grading us on an individual basis—that our 100,000 points were tied to our personal 'merit points.' But Sensei just made it clear that it's all about the Class Points. It's a collective total."
Hikigaya stepped up to the sink next to him, splashing some water on his face. "Why would you think I knew the correct version? Maybe I only knew that one too."
"Because you weren't surprised," Hirata said firmly, turning to look at him. "From this morning until the moment you walked out of the classroom, you didn't look confused or shocked even once. I have a feeling... no, I'm certain that you aren't telling me everything."
Hikigaya reached for a paper towel, wiping his face with slow, unhurried movements. When he looked at Hirata, the dead-fish eyes and dark circles beneath them made his sleeplessness obvious.
"You got me there."
"But why?" Hirata pressed. "If the truth would have worked better, why lie?"
"It's not that simple, Hirata. It wouldn't have worked if we had told them the entire thing."
Hirata frowned. "Why would you think that knowledge of entire thing alone wouldn't have been enough to snap them out of it? How can you be so sure?"
"Think back to how they acted for the last thirty days, Hirata. Didn't you see it? They've never had this much freedom in their lives. No parents to nag them, a hundred thousand yen in their pockets, and teachers who act like they don't exist. To them, this place felt like a vacation for the last month. Some of them probably already suspected something was wrong, but no one wanted to look too closely. Because the moment they did, the party was over."
"That still doesn't explain why they wouldn't cooperate once they were told the truth," Hirata argued.
"Because even if you had told them the truth," Hikigaya said, unfazed, "it wouldn't have worked. The majority of students in this class lacked any real sense of shared responsibility."
Hirata blinked. "…Lacked it? Even when their own money would've been on the line?"
"You're wrong, Hirata. It wouldn't have been 'their' money—it would've been the class's money. Which means everyone would've been responsible for it. And when everyone is responsible, usually, no one is. They would've kept slacking off, thinking being late once or skipping class once would've been fine as long as the rest of the class behaved well enough to make up for it."
He looked Hirata straight in the eye.
"Then the next person would think the same thing. And the next."
Hirata stayed silent, the logic beginning to click into place in a way that made his stomach turn.
"But once the majority would've started slacking… once enough people saw that almost everyone else was slacking… the tipping point would've hit. They would've looked around, seen the norm, and thought: 'If literally everyone is doing it, why should I be the only idiot trying?'"
A brief pause.
"After that, even the ones who wanted to do things right would've given up. Not because they didn't care, but because doing the right thing alone wouldn't have changed anything."
He leaned back slightly.
"And that's when it all would've collapsed. That's how it would've turned into a bystander effect."
Hirata's eyes widened at the sheer level of pessimism in his words. He couldn't help but mutter, "You really don't have much faith in people, do you, Hikigaya-kun?"
Hikigaya didn't deny it but didn't say anything either he only gave him a thin, crooked smile.
Hirata stood there in the silence of the restroom, the weight of Hikigaya's logic pressing down on him. It was cold. It was calculated. And yet, looking at the state of Class D now, it was undeniably effective.
"So that's why…" Hirata whispered, his eyes clearing as the last pieces of the puzzle fell into place. "You intentionally reversed the content of the entire assessment. You made it personal for everyone to destroy that line of thought before it could even start. By making them believe their behavior only affected their own wallet, you forced them to think about themselves."
"…Mm," Hikigaya hummed in response, neither confirming nor denying it outright.
Hirata stared at him, his mind racing through the events of the past few weeks. He was still surprised by how quickly the entire class had come into line. Even with the threat of losing money, there were always those who simply wouldn't have cared or would have been too lazy to change. But something had been different.
The atmosphere hadn't just changed; it had been forcibly shifted. And as far as Hirata remembered, the catalyst for that change was the near-total transformation of the class's most problematic elements: Ike, Yamauchi, and Sudo.
"You were the one responsible for them too, wasn't you?" Hirata asked, "Especially Ike and Yamauchi. Their behavior did a complete 180-degree turn after that incident at the pool. You did something to them."
Hikigaya clicked his tongue softly. "Responsible is a strong word."
"But you were the trigger, right?" Hirata pressed.
Hikigaya let out a short, dry breath that might have been a laugh if it weren't so tired. "You can say they were the spark that led to the change for the entire class."
"I see," Hirata murmured, his mind flashing back to the bizarre sight that had defined the latter half of April.
He remembered it vividly. It had been such a bizarre, surreal sight that the entire class had stopped to stare. Every time a period ended, Hikigaya would stand up, followed closely by a stiff-looking Ike and Yamauchi. Together, they would bow to the teacher and offer a formal greeting.
Initially, the class had been ruthless. People had mocked them, calling them "teachers' pets" or "desperate." Ike and Yamauchi usually the first to start a shouting match had remained eerily silent, absorbing the insults without a single retort.
Even Sudo had snapped once or twice, sure, but even he had restrained himself far more than anyone expected had eventually joined their ranks.
Then Hirata had joined them too. Standing up, bowing, thanking the teacher. And before anyone knew it… One by one, the rest of the class had begun to stand up too, until it became the new, undisputed norm.
"When the 'lamest' guys in the room suddenly start trying," Hikigaya said, breaking Hirata's train of thought, "it creates this unbearable social awkwardness for everyone else. It's an itch people can't scratch."
Hikigaya leaned his head back, his eyes half-closed.
"When people see someone, they consider 'below' them acting with that kind of discipline, they usually respond in one of two ways. They either try to stop them and drag them back down which is the standard procedure for most social groups to maintain the status quo or, if they can't break them, they start putting in effort themselves. Not because they want to be good students, but just to prove they're still 'better' than the ones they look down on."
As he spoke, Hikigaya kept the darker details of his internal monologue private.
Hikigaya thought back to Ike and Yamauchi. That was why he'd put them through such extreme situations giving them that near-expulsion terror, shattering their delusions.
If he hadn't, and had just blackmailed them lightly, they wouldn't have been able to bear the pressure of the mockery. They would have cracked, snapped back, and fallen right back into old habits. But the fear he'd instilled? That had been significant. It had locked them in made sure they acted like perfect students no matter what.
"And when I joined…" Hirata said slowly, piecing it together out loud.
Hikigaya gave a small nod.
"Yeah. When you joined, it got even harder for the rest to stay still. You're the guy everyone looks up to. When both the upper and lower ends start working together… how could they not?"
Hirata didn't reply right away. He just looked at Hikigaya, a quiet astonishment mixing with the unease in his chest.
"All of that also created a massive sense of FOMO," Hikigaya added.
"FOMO?" Hirata echoed.
"Fear of missing out," Hikigaya explained. "When they saw the people, they usually looked down on securing their merit points and getting their act together, they panicked. It meant those 'losers' were going to walk into next month with more points, while the 'normal' people risked ending up with nothing."
He shrugged slightly.
"It turned into a competition. Everyone locked the fuck in just to make sure they weren't the ones left behind. That's why things blew up today when they found out everyone got the same amount."
The more Hirata thought about it, the clearer it became: Hikigaya had completely reverse-engineered the entire social environment of Class D.
Earlier, the ones who didn't slack off or followed discipline were the odd ones out—the try-hards, the weirdos who got side-eyed or mocked for not joining the fun. But after all that?
After the "sparks" ignited and the norm flipped? Now the slackers were the ones who stood out like sore thumbs the lazy holdouts who everyone noticed and judged. Nobody wanted to be that guy anymore, the odd one out in a room full of people suddenly trying.
It was brilliant. And terrifying.
"If you wanted to do this," Hirata said slowly, breaking the silence, "wouldn't it have been better to start sooner? Instead of waiting until the second week, we might have had even more Class Points left."
"They wouldn't have worked this hard if they hadn't tasted what true freedom was like first. Or understood the value of those points. Letting them have an absolute blast for almost ten days straight, then realizing next month it would all slip out of their hands… that's what made them lock in. Too early, and it wouldn't have been this effective."
Hirata nodded slowly. It made sense in a twisted way, but one thing still bothered him. "And what about the questions? You've been asking teachers questions almost every five minutes since then. You even pulled me into it. Was that a part of the plan too?"
Hikigaya rubbed the back of his head, letting out a tired sigh. "Good grief Hirata, is this a confession or an interrogation?"
Hirata didn't back down. "Please. I need to understand."
Hikigaya gave him a flat look, then shrugged.
"Fine," Hikigaya sighed. "It was damage control. I had to make sure things didn't go too far out of control during those first ten days. Plus, honestly? I didn't understand half of what the teachers were talking about either. If I made it 'normal' for everyone to ask questions, I could get the info I needed without standing out as the only guy who was lost. Is that everything?"
Hirata nodded, but his expression remained complicated. A heavy silence settled between them, broken only by the hum of the restroom lights.
"I… I don't know how to feel about all this, Hikigaya-kun" he admitted quietly.
"I get it. The way you did things worked. But maybe… maybe you could have tried the simple way too. I mean, you did everything except doing it normally. What if we had just told everyone the truth from the start and insisted, they behave? Things might have worked out without all the… deception."
"Yeah, you might be right," Hikigaya said, his voice flat as he looked at his own reflection. "Maybe I'm just too pessimistic. Things might have worked out if you'd just given them a heartfelt speech about the power of friendship and responsibility. But that's the thing this is the only way I know how to do things."
He turned away from the sink, drying his hands with a final, dismissive flick of a paper towel.
"Besides, in the end, it worked, didn't it? We're not at zero points. So, who cares? Next time, you can try it your way. I'll be happy to sit in the back and watch."
Hirata's fist clenched at his side. "But…but still?"
"What about you, Hikigaya-kun?" he said, his voice low. "No one will know that you worked this hard. And because of how you acted on many occasions… I think there are quite a few people who might dislike you now."
Hikigaya blinked once, then let out a low huff.
"I don't even want others to know in the first place," he said flatly. "There were my own motives involved too. If others find out, it'll only cause me even more trouble. So, do me a favor, keep this between us. Don't go trying to 'redeem' me."
"But to be disliked like that…"
"Disliked?" Hikigaya cut him off with a short, dry snort. "That's giving them too much credit, Hirata. Dislike doesn't last unless you keep caring about the person on the other end."
"And people don't care that long about someone like me. They might be annoyed. Uncomfortable. Maybe even say some nasty stuff for a bit."
"But that kind of feeling fades once I go back to being irrelevant."
Hirata couldn't help but feel a little creeped out by that logic. It was so detached, so matter-of-fact—like Hikigaya had weighed his own irrelevance on a scale and found it perfectly balanced.
No bitterness. No self-pity. Just acceptance.
Hikigaya turned and began walking toward the washroom door, his footsteps heavy. He paused at the exit and looked back over his shoulder.
"You coming? Next class is about to start."
Hirata stayed by the sinks, his head lowered. "Go ahead. I'll be back in a few minutes. I just… need a moment."
"Suit yourself," Hikigaya muttered.
He stepped out into the hallway, leaving Hirata alone with the faint drip of the faucet and the weight of everything he'd just heard.
He stood there, pondering it all—the lies, the sparks, the flipped norms. The class was saved, but at what cost?
He realized then that Class D was far more complicated than he had ever imagined. And the person he had just spoken to was the most complicated piece of all.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Author's Note
Hey everyone,
So, Chapter 41 is finally done. I originally said I'd upload this within three days, but it ended up taking a couple of extra days. In the original plan, I wasn't going to include Ayanokoji or Kouenji in this chapter, and once I decided to bring them in, the whole thing took longer to come together than I expected.
I hope it turned out okay.
This chapter was meant to make Hikigaya's entire plan clear, both in terms of what he did and why he did it. Personally, I feel the plan itself is solid, and the execution worked, though I'm still a little unsure if some parts came off as bland or too heavy. I'll leave that judgment to you all.
With this chapter, we've officially entered the arc proper. I'll do my best not to drag this one out like before and keep the pacing tighter moving forward.
There's a lot more I want to say, but I'm honestly exhausted I've been writing for nearly eight hours straight. So, I'll end it here for now.
As always, if anything feels off pacing, structure, characterization, or anything else please let me know. Your feedback genuinely helps me improve, and I read every comment.
Thank you for giving this story a chance. Your support and encouragement mean more to me than you might think and are a big reason I keep writing.
Stay tuned for more.
—Raijinmaru_K2