The next day, Hikigaya Hachiman arrived early again and quietly took his usual seat near the back of middle row. As he watched the classroom slowly fill with students, a familiar sense of distance settled in like he was there, but not really part of it.
He had yesterday decided not to say anything. The generous point system, the strange rules, and the way teachers avoided clear answers all felt suspicious, but he chose to keep it to himself.
Even so, some part of him couldn't quite let it go. Maybe it was curiosity, or maybe he just wanted to know if anyone else was paying attention too.
That chance came yesterday in the washroom of all places.
He couldn't help but remember the interaction he had yesterday after classes were over.
Hikigaya was at the urinal, trying to enjoy a rare moment of peace when he suddenly noticed someone had joined him. Glancing sideways, he saw none other than Hirata Yosuke, the most popular boy in Class 1-D, standing right next to him.
Seems like, even the bathroom wasn't safe from unexpected encounters.
"Ah, it's Hikigaya," Hirata greeted smoothly.
Hikigaya blinked. "Uh... Yo," he said, caught slightly off-guard. "Didn't expected… company."
"Sorry," Hirata said with a soft smile. "I didn't mean to bother you. Just figured since we're both here…"
"It's fine. This is just… not usually where people open conversations with me."
"Well," Hirata said, tone as smooth as ever, "I guess there's a first time for everything then."
"Yeah… I guess," Hikigaya replied, eyes still forward. "Didn't expect it to be this kind of first, though."
Hirata's voice softened with concern. "I was wondering, are you doing alright, Hikigaya?"
"Yeah. More or less." Hikigaya said, and continued in his tone of indifference. "What brought this on?"
"I saw you today," Hirata said after a moment, "during the break. You were... asking around for help, weren't you? You also looked a bit tense in class."
Hikigaya didn't answer right away instead he decided to take a chance. He zipped up, washed his hands, and as they both stood at the sink, he glanced sideways.
"Hey, Hirata," he began, quietly. "Don't you think something's off about this school?"
Hirata blinked. "What do you mean?"
"A hundred thousand per person, every month? The way teachers act in class, all of this feels way too convenient. Don't you think?
"…Yeah," Hirata said quietly, "I've noticed that too actually."
"But…" he continued, "even if that's true, the most important thing for me right now is that everyone in our class can get along well."
"…What?"
Hikigaya turned his head slowly, staring at him. "So even if something's wrong, we pretend it's fine as long as nobody cries?"
"That's not what I mean," Hirata said gently. "I just… believe people do their best when they're at ease. Even if there's something strange going on, panic helps no one. And I think we all have our own way of protecting this class."
He smiled again, warm as ever. "Like you. I didn't realize it until recently, but you're the kind of person who worries quietly. That's important too. So, thank you, Hikigaya. Really."
Hikigaya blinked, caught off guard. "W-wait, I think you've got the wrong idea—"
Hirata held up a hand gently. "No, I get it. Just wanted to let you know I appreciate it."
"If you ever need help with anything," Hirata added, walking toward the exit, "I'd be happy to lend a hand."
Hikigaya hesitated for a moment, then nodded slightly. "Yeah, thanks. I'll keep that in mind."
After that interaction he understood why someone like Hirata had ended up in Class D. It wasn't because he lacked ability. On the contrary, he was competent, composed, and socially gifted. But maybe that was the problem.
Hirata was too focused on keeping things pleasant, making sure no one felt uncomfortable, even if it meant turning a complete blind eye to what was actually going on. That kind of deliberate ignorance wasn't malicious, but it wasn't helpful either. It was just... temporary surface-level harmony.
Hikigaya didn't know the full story behind that kindness of his, but he could tell Hirata's intentions weren't malicious. They were genuine in their own way. Still, it wasn't the kind of behaviour he expected from someone like him.
And with that, it became painfully clear: almost every student in Class D had some kind of hidden flaw something not obvious at first glance. It wasn't just about grades or test scores. Personality played a major role, maybe even more than he had actually realized.
Hikigaya's eyes moved across the room, he watched his classmates without saying much. Some chatted in small groups, others stared at their phones, a few sat quietly like him. Patterns were starting to emerge, subtle ones, but enough to give him a vague idea of how this class operated.
The bell rang, breaking through the chatter.
First period, Math, was about to begin.
Right on time, the Maths teacher Sakagami-sensei, who was also the homeroom teacher of class 1-C, entered and took his place at the front of the room.
'I'm surrounded by people who neither want to help nor be helped. Which means, the only person left who has both knowledge and obligation…'
His gaze moved to the front of the room, where Sakagami-sensei was getting ready for the lesson. Calm and composed as always, the teacher seemed completely unfazed by the chatter and distractions from the students around him.
If anyone can make this work, it's the teachers.
'If I can't follow what's being taught, then I'm not learning. That's not just on me, it's also on the teacher to make sure I do.'
A teacher's job isn't just to go through formulas or deliver content. It's to make sure students actually understand what's being taught. In most normal schools, just covering the syllabus is enough. No one really checks whether students are keeping up, as long as the class moves forward on paper.
But from what he had observed so far, this school worked differently. With surveillance in every corner of the classroom and students constantly under evaluation, it was reasonable to assume the teachers were being watched too. If the system demanded accountability from students, then that standard should apply to the staff as well. Teaching shouldn't just be about finishing the curriculum—it should be about making sure the knowledge actually sticks.
Still, when most students aren't putting in the effort or showing any interest, it becomes easier for teachers to stop trying too. They explain things just enough to claim they've done their part, then move on. And since no one questions it, the pattern repeats: a classroom where both sides go through the motions without really engaging.
So, the first step he had to take was to get the teachers emotionally invested in the class.
He took a slow breath and took a sip from his beloved MAX Coffee, mentally steeling himself for what came next.
"I'm going to ask whatever I need to, and it's his job to respond. Since he's being monitored as well, he can't just brush me off. If that makes me a nuisance in the eyes of others, then so be it."
He raised his hand.
Then cleared his throat and called out in a loud voice to gain attention.
"Excuse me, Sensei. Could you go over that last step again? I didn't get the part about the equation."
The room went quiet, all eyes turning his way at the sudden disruption.
Sakagami-sensei blinked, caught off guard by the sudden call. "I don't believe I caught your name, boy."
Hikigaya's voice stayed calm as he answered, "It's Hikigaya Hachiman, Sensei."
Sakagami gave a short nod, repeating the name thoughtfully. "Hikigaya-kun… I see. Alright, what part didn't you understand?"
"This part," he said, pointing at a simple factoring problem. "I don't get how you broke this down."
Sakagami-sensei adjusted his glasses and said, "This step is factoring by grouping. You find pairs with common factors and factor them out. Like this."
He pointed to the board, showing the process quickly.
Hikigaya nodded slowly but then raised his hand once more. "Okay, but why do we need to set the equation equal to zero? What's the purpose of that?"
"That's basic middle school math," Sakagami said, raising an eyebrow. "You're in high school now this is second-year material. Are you seriously not familiar with something this simple?"
"I'm not Sensei," Hikigaya admitted flatly, without a hint of shame. "I seriously don't know any of this."
The whispers in the classroom stopped, and the room grew quiet as his words sank in.
"I don't understand how to factor. I don't know why we set equations to zero. I don't even remember what half these symbols even mean."
At that moment he felt almost every gaze in the classroom lock onto him, full of questions, judgment, maybe even a hint of "what's wrong with this guy?"
But did he care how they looked at him?
Nope, not in the slightest. Because this wasn't about shame.
This was about setting something in motion.
After three years of dealing with worse, those sideways glances were nothing more than background noise to him, a bad radio station you just can't turn off.
Hikigaya continued, "I didn't study properly in junior high. I barely showed up. I never asked any questions, didn't care, and never even tried. And because of that, I got severely left behind."
The words he spoke weren't carefully chosen, and some were straight-up lies. But once he started speaking, it all came out naturally. Maybe because it was easier to be honest when you've already made peace with the worst parts of yourself.
'Time to go all out and use one of my special 108 loner skills. Since I've got everyone's attention now, might as well make it count.'
Hikigaya exhaled slowly as he prepared himself his eyes sharpened with unnatural clarity and then without any hesitation.
He bowed.
With absolute, terrifying precision.
One of his signature 108 Loner abilities: "The Unyielding Bow of Submission." A move passed down through a long, tragic bloodline of corporate slaves. It came to him as naturally as breathing—like a cursed technique etched deep into his very soul.
It was the kind of bow so practiced, so absurdly perfect, it could put even the most seasoned salarymen to shame. the kind that made executives momentarily reconsider firing someone before going through with it anyway.
And as he held that unwavering 45-degree pose, he couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow. Not for the act itself, but for how disgustingly good he was at it. As if somewhere deep inside, he had already accepted his corporate destiny.
He spoke again, this time in loud yet sincere tone.
"Please, Sensei… guide this pitiful, lost soul who's desperate for the light of your wisdom. I know I might not be worth the effort, but I'd rather struggle honestly than keep pretending that I have the slightest clue about what the hell this 'x' even wants from me."
For a second.
The entire room went dead silent.
Sakagami blinked. His mouth opened as if to speak, but nothing came out. In all his years of teaching, he had never — never — seen a student drop his pride and beg to be taught in front of an entire class. It wasn't humility. It was... something else. Something utterly bizarre.
Sakagami finally continued, "You don't nee—"
But he was quickly interrupted.
Because the entire class burst out into laughter.
Hikigaya felt the heat rise slightly in his cheeks because of that. Still, he didn't move. He held the bow, unmoving.
'Alright, maybe that was a bit much. "Light of your wisdom"? Ugh… that was definitely my inner chuuni slipping out again. I swear I'd buried that guy back in middle school.'
"Oi, is this guy for real?" Ike said, not even bothering to lower his voice.
"He's doing this now?" someone muttered.
"Wasn't this guy asking for help yesterday?"
"What a weirdo," one of the girls whispered between giggles. "Seriously, is he some kind of moron or what?"
Yamauchi chuckled. "Dude's making a speech."
Suddenly, out of nowhere Koenji's laughter rang out, light and amused. He glanced around the room as he spoke.
"Well, if people here can't see the beauty in Ghost Boy's little act just now, then some of you are clearly blinded by your own ugliness," he said with a smirk. "And that kind of ugliness… I find truly detestable."
Hikigaya blinked clearly surprised. 'Wait… did Koenji just defend me? No, hold on. Was that even a compliment? Or just Koenji being Koenji again? I can't tell if he's praising me or roasting everyone else just for fun.'
"Cut the crap, Koenji!" another shouted.
"Hey, who does he think he is?" one voice challenged.
Koenji just shrugged off their protests, completely unfazed and clearly uninterested in wasting any more breath on them.
Just as the tension began to rise, Sakagami-sensei's sharp, commanding voice cut through the noise. "Silence Everyone."
For the first time since they entered this school, a teacher had actually intervened. The weight of that reprimand alone was enough to shut everyone up in classroom.
Sakagami-sensei looked at him for a moment.
"You don't need to bow, Hikigaya-kun. If you don't understand something, you have the right to ask. That's true," Sakagami said. "But I can't go over every single basic point during class. We have a curriculum to follow."
"Then," Hachiman raised his head, voice steady, "can I ask you questions after class? I understand it might not be convenient. But it's a teacher's duty to make sure a student learns properly isn't it? I'm not asking for special treatment. Just to be taught what I never understood."
It wasn't a plea, but a quiet reminder.
Sakagami-sensei looked like he wanted to refuse.
But with students watching, and the surveillance camera blinking from the corner of the ceiling, he couldn't.
He nodded reluctantly. "Fine. Come after class. We'll go over the basics."
"Thank you, Sakagami-sensei."
Hachiman sat down quietly. He could feel Horikita's gaze from the side like she wanted to say something, but held back.
Sakagami resumed the lesson, picking up the pace slightly now that the interruption had passed. But barely ten minutes in—
"Hey, Sensei," Hachiman raised his hand again, tone calm but insistent. "Could you please slow down a bit? It's getting difficult to keep up when things are moving that quickly."
Sakagami paused mid-sentence, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. "I already told you—I'll help you after class if you need to catch up."
"That's basic junior high material," Hachiman replied without hesitation. His tone remained even. "What you're teaching now is new. I can't afford to fall behind on this either."
From that point on, the pace of the class changed.
Hikigaya kept raising his hand during the lesson—not loudly, but often enough that Sakagami had to stop and explain things more clearly. Whether it was asking for definitions, steps in formulas, or examples, he kept the questions coming.
The class started to feel less like a lecture and more like a one-on-one tutoring session.
Some students started to look more annoyed. A few who had been half-asleep now were awake, while the small number who were actually interested began paying closer attention now.
Eventually, the bell rang ending the first period.
Sakagami-sensei closed his textbook and rubbed his temple, clearly relieved it was over. His eyes drifted toward Hikigaya for a second, unreadable.
'There's no shortage of unique troublemakers in Class D this year, that's for sure.'
"I'll see you after classes, Sakagami-sensei," Hachiman said as he packed his notebook.
The teacher let out a quiet, tired sigh, as if that brief statement had taken something out of him. "…Alright boy."
It wasn't annoyance. If anything, it was resignation.
"It's been a while since any student seriously relied on us for actual studying," Sakagami muttered to himself Then, glancing over, he added, "I'll be in the staff room."
"Thanks," Hikigaya said, giving a slight nod. "I appreciate the effort."
Hachiman let out a long sigh as he slouched slightly in his seat.
'Ugh… I'll have to do this again... in every subject class.'
It wasn't like he wanted to be the centre of attention. If anything, drawing eyes made him uncomfortable.
'But If this plan works, I could kill two birds with one stone'.
He reached into his bag and pulled out a can of MAX Coffee. The sweet sugary taste hit his tongue the moment he took a sip instantly calming him down.
'Still... this is going to be even more exhausting now.'
Another heavy sigh escaped him.
'Guess if I've already started… I might as well see it through then.'
He did the same thing in every class, with every teacher. And with each one, he found himself questioning more and more why he ever signed up for this.
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By the end of classes, he found himself standing in the restroom, utterly mentally drained. After all the stunts he'd pulled today in class, all he wanted was to crawl back to his dorm and disappear.
He sighed, sounding like a worn-out salaryman dragging himself through another late-night shift.
'Even after all that, I've still got the extra classes I requested from the teachers. I knew what I was getting into.'
At the urinal, Hikigaya was trying to enjoy a rare moment of peace releasing both pressure and thought—before gearing up for another round of exhausting after-class sessions.
Then he heard footsteps. Someone had joined him.
Of course it was Hirata. Just like yesterday.
"Hey, there Hikigaya."
"…Didn't expect company here. Again," he muttered under his breath, not quite sure where to look.
Hirata blinked; a bit caught off guard by the awkwardness in Hikigaya's tone. "Ah sorry. I didn't mean to intrude,"
He said with a soft chuckle, raising both hands slightly in mock surrender. "I guess we just have great timing."
"…Or terrible luck," Hikigaya replied dryly, eyes still forward.
Hirata laughed lightly again, "Anyway, I just wanted to say… thanks. For what you said in class today."
"…Huh?"
"That must've taken a lot of courage," he continued, rinsing his hands like it mattered. "Admitting you didn't know something. It's not something everyone can do."
For a moment, Hikigaya didn't know how to respond. Not because he disagreed, but because he wasn't used to being thanked… like this. Not by someone like Hirata.
'Did he come all the way here just to say that? No, he probably noticed something. Maybe I looked more worn out than I thought.'
He didn't like the idea of being pitied. But Hirata didn't sound pitying. He just sounded… concerned.
"…Didn't do it for applause," Hikigaya muttered, turning slightly toward the sink but keeping his eyes low.
"I know," Hirata said, voice softer now. "That's why it's worth acknowledging."
Then Hirata added, "But are you sure about this? Going against the flow like that… you could end up isolated. People might start treating you differently."
"I wouldn't do it if I couldn't handle it," Hikigaya replied, almost too quickly.
Another pause. Hirata nodded slowly, respecting the answer but still concerned.
Then Hikigaya shifted slightly, gathering his thoughts.
"…Hey, Hirata. Yesterday, you offered to help me, didn't you?"
"Yeah, I did." Hirata tilted his head a little, his expression open. "Is there something you need?"
"I mean… if you don't mind," Hikigaya muttered, avoiding eye contact. "There's something I could use your help with. Don't worry—I'll make sure to repay the favor."
"So, it's like this…'