Yet somehow, to his own surprise, Hachiman Hikigaya could actually read her mind.
Or at least, he understood the reference she was making.
"What is evil? All that proceeds from weakness is evil."
It was a famous line from The Antichrist.
Nietzsche had fundamentally redefined the concept of "evil" as a deficiency of life-force—a lack of vitality and strength. He'd insisted that morality should serve the enhancement and celebration of life, not its suppression and denial.
"And, as things turned out, I was right," the raven-haired ice queen continued, her tone carrying a hint of vindication. "That old man was perfectly spry. He didn't need anyone's help at all."
Ah. So that's what she meant.
"Sorry, but I genuinely have no idea what you're talking about," Hachiman lied smoothly, not wanting to get tangled up in a philosophical debate. That sounded like way too much hassle. "Any chance I just felt like standing up? Sometimes people do that, you know."
The girl blinked, clearly not expecting that answer. She pressed her lips together, her brow furrowing slightly as she muttered under her breath, "Did I misread him...?"
On the bus, she'd definitely noticed Hachiman's gaze linger for a brief moment on the book in her hands. She'd assumed that meant something—that he was someone who could engage with her intellectually.
Apparently not.
"Forget it." She shook her head, dismissing whatever conclusions she'd jumped to. "We're clearly not the same sort of person. Let's hope our paths never cross again."
Yeah, I figured as much.
Hachiman silently agreed with that assessment.
The stereotypical high school rom-com scenario—accidentally bumping into a pretty girl, becoming friends through some contrived misunderstanding, slowly growing closer, and eventually dating—he had absolutely zero expectations for that kind of script playing out in his life.
Clinging to rose-colored, idealistic fantasies about adolescence was somehow even less realistic than his elaborate daydreams.
Speaking of which, there were an awful lot of security cameras along this road.
As they walked deeper into campus, Hachiman found himself looking up at the cameras studded throughout every corner of the grounds. They were everywhere—on buildings, lamp posts, walkway arches. The surveillance density was honestly kind of concerning.
What kind of school needs this much security?
First Year, Class D
Loud.
Very, very loud.
Unbelievably, impossibly loud.
For a second, Hachiman genuinely felt like he'd accidentally wandered into a children's playground instead of a high school classroom.
It was only the first day of the semester. Surely they didn't need to be this hyped up and energetic, right?
When he'd peeked into some of the other classrooms while walking down the hallway, they hadn't been nearly this rowdy. Class A had looked almost serene by comparison. Class B seemed normal. Even Class C was relatively subdued.
But Class D? Absolute chaos.
"Dude, dude! The girls in our class are smoking hot!"
"Check out that rack! And those black stockings—absolute perfection!"
"Bro, you've got excellent taste!"
"Right?! I know what I'm about! Heh-heh-heh!"
The two horny monkeys sitting in the front row were the exact same pair from the bus—the ones who'd looked "a few fries short of a Happy Meal." Having discovered they shared the same vulgar wavelength, they'd apparently become instant blood brothers.
Kill me now.
"Ugh, boys are so disgusting!" one girl complained loudly.
"Wait, wait—hey, look at that guy over there! He's so handsome!"
"Oh my god, you're right! Should we go talk to him?"
"No way! I'd totally die of embarrassment~~"
An outgoing clique of four gyaru-type girls had already formed, giggling and gossiping amongst themselves.
"Konomi-chan, you're an exchange student? That's so cool! I'm really happy to meet you!"
"Same here. Nice to meet you."
"Kushida-san, what you did on the bus—helping that grandmother—was so incredibly sweet of you!"
"Oh, it was nothing, really. And please, just call me Kikyo!"
"Kikyo-chan! I'm so happy we got to meet~~"
Centered around the short-haired, big-chested girl from the bus—Kushida Kikyo, apparently—a veritable swarm of female students had already gathered. Her performance on the bus had clearly been a massive hit. She was building her social empire at record speed.
The class had spontaneously fractured into several distinct little cliques and social circles.
The few stragglers who hadn't found their groups yet were frantically trying to squeeze themselves in somewhere, anywhere, desperately avoiding the social death sentence of being left out.
Hachiman, on the other hand?
Nah. Hard pass.
Smiling on cue, echoing whatever nonsense people said to fit in, pretending to care about topics he didn't give a shit about—just thinking about it was exhausting.
Making himself as invisible as possible, he drifted past the various clusters of chattering students like a ghost and headed toward his assigned seat.
Second-to-last row. Not by the window.
Damn it.
So much for the classic "protagonist seat" where he could zone out staring at scenery and clouds while having deep, philosophical internal monologues.
And... wait.
Uh, no way. This can't be a coincidence, right?
Call it fate, or call it a curse.
The person assigned to sit beside him was the exact same raven-haired ice queen from the bus.
She was already seated, completely immersed in another thick, dark-bound book. She held it close, her violet-pink eyes scanning the pages with genuine focus.
Hachiman squinted at the title.
Crime and Punishment by Dostoevsky.
Seriously? An aspiring bookworm?
Hachiman had actually read that one too—though mostly to look cultured and intellectual in front of others, if he was being honest with himself.
This girl, though? She probably genuinely just loved reading dense philosophical literature for its own sake.
Not wanting to disturb her focus, he carefully pulled his chair back as quietly as possible and sat down with minimal noise.
Ten minutes earlier, she'd explicitly said, "Let's hope our paths never cross again."
A natural-born troublemaker with actual social skills might have opened with something like, "Well, looks like crossing paths is inevitable now, huh?"
Sadly, Hachiman lacked that particular brand of social grace and humor.
So they'd just... pretend nothing happened. Perfect plan.
Except—
Wait.
From the corner of his eye, he noticed her fingers tighten almost imperceptibly around the book's cover. Her supposedly steady, focused gaze had frozen on the exact same page for far too long now.
Don't go getting embarrassed on your own!
Considerately, he shifted his attention elsewhere—and immediately spotted the poker-faced "android" sitting diagonally opposite from him.
Their eyes met.
"Um, hi there..." The expressionless guy's lips moved slightly, like he was about to initiate conversation.
"Ah-ha~ fancy meeting you here!"
Hachiman immediately whipped his head toward the ice queen beside him instead, greeting her with forced enthusiasm.
Not today, demon boy. Not today.
"That's... something you're supposed to say the moment you notice someone," she replied flatly, not even looking up from her book.
She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and sighed in what sounded like resignation.
"Pain and hardship exist only for great souls," she quoted.
"Not necessarily," Hachiman replied automatically, the response slipping out before he could stop himself. "Us despicable creatures can get used to just about anything."
"???"
Horikita's eyes froze mid-sentence. Her lips parted slightly in what could only be described as pure, unfiltered astonishment.
She stared at him like she'd just witnessed a stray dog spontaneously break into a full Broadway-style song-and-dance routine.
"Hey! Don't treat people like animals!" Hachiman bristled defensively.
"It's not quite that extreme..." She recovered from her initial surprise and composed herself, though a hint of embarrassment colored her cheeks. "I'd simply assumed you were a gloomy slacker with zero cultural awareness or intellectual curiosity."
Hachiman's cheek twitched. "Wow, thanks so much for granting me basic human status! I'm truly honored!"
"My apologies..." The brief flicker of embarrassment crossed her face again before vanishing completely. She straightened her posture, sitting up properly.
"Horikita Suzune," she introduced herself formally.
"I have absolutely no intention of socializing or making friends. However, as desk-mates, I suppose we can at least observe basic courtesy and civility."
Fair enough.
It reminded him of the girl who'd sat next to him back in junior high. An occasional polite nod when arriving or leaving class, and nothing more. That had worked out just fine.
"Hachiman Hikigaya," he introduced himself in return.
After their mutual introductions, they both lapsed back into comfortable silence.
Horikita returned to her book, picking up exactly where she'd left off.
Hachiman killed time by slowly, methodically unpacking his bag and arranging his supplies on his desk.
So this is how normal people interact? Looks... pretty tough.
The poker-faced guy observed their brief exchange from his seat, found absolutely no opening or opportunity to join the conversation, and eventually gave up entirely.
"Excuse me! May I have everyone's attention, please?"
A green-haired, exceptionally good-looking boy stepped confidently to the front of the classroom.
"I'm Hirata Yousuke! I was thinking—why don't we all do quick self-introductions so we can get to know each other and become friendly as quickly as possible?"
His smile was bright and genuine, radiating warmth.
"How about we do it now, before the homeroom teacher arrives? What do you all think?"
First assessment: Hirata Yousuke is a total normie.
No—scratch that. He was an ultimate normie. The final boss of normies. The platonic ideal of what society considered a "good person."
"I'm in!" The short-haired, busty girl—Kushida Kikyo—raised her hand enthusiastically.
"That sounds like so much fun!" the gyaru group chorused in agreement, their voices overlapping.
"Thanks so much for the support, everyone!" Hirata beamed at them.
Uh... by 'everyone,' did you actually just mean those three specific groups who already agreed?
Hachiman retorted silently in his head.
"I'll start us off, then!"
"I'm Hirata Yousuke—just call me Hirata, though. No need to be formal!"
"I absolutely love sports, and I'm planning to join the soccer club as soon as possible."
"It's really nice to meet you all. I'm looking forward to spending the next three years together!"
Bright, handsome, absolutely flawless self-introduction.
It immediately reminded Hachiman of the superstar from his middle school days: Hayato Hayama.
The same good looks. The same effortlessly sunny personality. The same soccer obsession. Their character sheets were practically identical!
Great. I've been transported to a parallel universe where Hayama got a palette swap.
"Oh! My turn next!"
Kushida Kikyo bounced to her feet with infectious energy.
"I'm Kushida Kikyo! My personal goal is to become friends with every single person in this class—no exceptions!"
Her smile was radiant, warm, and welcoming.
"I want to make tons of amazing memories during our time here together, so please, please hang out with me lots and lots~~"
Pretty face, generous curves, gentle demeanor—she instantly won over what had to be at least 80% of the class, both guys and girls alike.
Hachiman strongly suspected she was acting. Putting on a performance.
But hey—wasn't life itself just one big performance anyway? Who among us was ever completely, 100% genuine at all times?
"Next up! I'm Ike Kanji!"
One of the horny monkeys from earlier jumped up eagerly.
"I love cute girls and I absolutely hate handsome guys!"
Several people laughed. Hirata smiled good-naturedly.
"But most important—"
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