The familiar scent of instant coffee and lingering cynicism hung in the air of Hikigaya Hachiman's dorm room. Opposite him, perched stiffly on his only other chair, was Horikita Suzune. They were, by some unspoken, reluctant agreement, allies. "Friends" was still a term Hachiman mentally filed under 'pending further review,' despite Horikita's strategic deployment of the word to her brother. They were, however, still firmly on a last-name basis, a comfortable formality for two socially awkward individuals.
Their current, equally reluctant, topic of discussion: Kushida Kikyo.
"We need her," Horikita stated, her voice devoid of its usual frostiness, replaced by a pragmatic, almost weary tone. "Those three… idiots… will not listen to us. But Kushida-san, with her… influence…"
Hachiman nodded, taking a slow sip of his lukewarm MAX Coffee. "The class angel. Yeah, she's our best bet to get Sudou, Ike, and Yamauchi to actually sit down and absorb something other than oxygen and perverted thoughts." He paused, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. He'd been mulling over something since the previous night, a tiny inconsistency that gnawed at him. "Speaking of Kushida," he began, "she approached me a while back. Asked for my help in becoming friends with you."
Horikita's eyebrow arched. "She did? And you, naturally, refused."
"Naturally," Hachiman confirmed. "My social battery can barely handle one Horikita; adding a hyper-social Kushida to the mix would cause a system meltdown. But that's not the point. The point is, she knew your name. Horikita Suzune."
Horikita looked puzzled. "And? My name is on my desk."
"Yes, now," Hachiman said, leaning forward slightly. "But this was early on. Right after the initial introductions. You remember? Sudou had his little outburst, and you and I, along with a few other social recluses, ducked out before everyone finished their 'get to know me' spiels. Kushida definitely didn't know my name back then; she had to ask when she first cornered me with her 'befriend Horikita' mission. So how did she know yours, specifically, if you both skipped the formal intros?"
Horikita considered this, her expression unreadable. "I have no idea. I've never interacted with Kushida-san before this school. To be honest, I often feel… a distinct animosity from her, despite her outward pleasantries. It's… unsettling."
Hachiman's mind, which had been idly piecing together fragments, suddenly clicked. Animosity. Knowing her name. Insistence on friendship despite said animosity. "There's only one logical way she'd know your name if you didn't introduce yourselves in class and she didn't know mine," he mused aloud, more to himself than to her. "They must have encountered each other before this school." He looked at Horikita. "But you said you've never met her."
"I haven't," Horikita affirmed.
"So, it wasn't a direct meeting," Hachiman continued, his thoughts racing. "It had to be a place you both frequented, but where you wouldn't necessarily interact directly. Different social circles, perhaps. Conclusion: middle school. Same middle school, but probably different classes or grades."
He leaned back, the pieces falling into place with a grim sort of satisfaction. "Now, why the obsessive desire to befriend you, despite this hidden dislike? She wants to keep an eye on you, Horikita. But why? This brings us to Kushida's placement in Class D – the 'defective' class." He ticked off the points on his fingers. "Kushida is a phenomenal actress. Her 'class angel' persona is nearly flawless. Even if ANHS has access to student records, they can't truly peer into someone's core personality. They can't quantify a facade. With her social skills and apparent affability, she should have landed in Class B, with Ichinose and the other 'good kids.' But she didn't. She's here, with us rejects."
Hachiman paused, letting the implications sink in. "Something happened. Something in her past, specifically in middle school, that flagged her as 'defective' despite her outward presentation. You, Horikita, being the antisocial ice queen you were, probably wouldn't have noticed her existence if you were in different classes. But Kushida, with her pathological need to be 'friends' with everyone, even if it's insincere, would have known of you. When she said during introductions that no one from her middle school made it here, she was lying."
Horikita had been listening intently, her usual impassivity slowly giving way to a dawning realization. Her eyes widened slightly. "Wait… I remember something." Her voice was low, hesitant. "During my third year of middle school… there was a rumor. About a girl from another class. A girl who supposedly… completely destroyed her own class. Not physically. But with words. Caused a total social collapse, infighting, bullying… the works. It was brutal, but no official action was ever taken against her because there was no physical evidence, just… testimonies of emotional and psychological manipulation."
Bingo. Hachiman thought. "That's it. That's Kushida. That incident is why she's in Class D. And you, Horikita, are a potential loose end. You being from the same middle school means you might know, or could find out, about her past. If that secret gets out, the social empire she's meticulously built here would crumble. Her entire 'everyone's friend' image would be shattered."
A heavy silence filled the room. The image of the ever-smiling, helpful Kushida morphing into a master manipulator was deeply unsettling.
"So," Horikita finally said, her voice tight. "We need her help, but she's… dangerous."
"Precisely," Hachiman agreed. "But for now, she's a necessary evil. We need those idiots to pass."
Reluctantly, Hachiman dialed Kushida's number. She answered on the second ring, her voice sickeningly sweet.
"Hikigaya-kun! What a surprise! To what do I owe this pleasure?"
"Kushida," Hachiman said, cutting to the chase. "We need your help. Sudou, Ike, and Yamauchi. Midterms. They're going to fail and get expelled if someone doesn't intervene. Horikita and I can teach, but they won't listen to us. They'll listen to you."
There was a brief pause. "Oh, of course!" Kushida chirped, her voice radiating concern. "We can't let any of our classmates fail! I'd be happy to help convince them to study! Where should we meet? The library?"
Hook, line, and sinker, Hachiman thought. She played her part perfectly.
The study session in the library was an exercise in patience Hachiman hadn't known he possessed. Kushida had, as expected, easily cajoled the "Three Idiots" into attending, her angelic smile and promises of "making studying fun" working their usual magic.
Horikita was, surprisingly, an excellent preparer of study materials. She had broken down complex concepts from the reference test into surprisingly simple, digestible chunks. The equations were neat, the explanations concise. She must have gone over these questions countless times to be able to simplify them this effectively, Hachiman observed. However, while her ability to write simple explanations was top-notch, her ability to verbally deliver them without sounding like a condescending robot programmed by a sadist was… lacking.
Hachiman saw her open her mouth to explain a particularly tricky algebra problem to Sudou, who was already looking like he'd rather be wrestling a bear. Hachiman quickly shot her a subtle "shut it" look. If she starts talking, he knew, this will end in tears, or possibly a thrown textbook. Not everyone can handle her brand of brutal honesty like I can. Mostly because I just ignore it.
This was where their strange synergy kicked in again. Hachiman, while incapable of Horikita's meticulous preparation, possessed a knack for explaining things in relatable, if sometimes unorthodox, ways.
"Alright, Sudou," Hachiman began, taking the notes from Horikita. "Newton's Laws of Motion. Think basketball. First law: an object at rest stays at rest, an object in motion stays in motion. You're standing still, you stay still until someone shoves you, right? You're dribbling down the court, you keep going until someone fouls you or you hit a wall. Got it?"
Sudou, surprisingly, nodded, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. "Yeah… like when I'm posting up, I gotta exert force to move the other guy."
"Exactly!" Hachiman said, resisting the urge to facepalm at the simplicity required. "Second law: Force equals mass times acceleration. The harder you throw the ball, or the heavier the ball, the more oomph it has. Third law: For every action, an equal and opposite reaction. You jump, you push down on the floor, the floor pushes you up."
It was slow, painful progress, but it was progress.
Yamauchi and Ike, however, were stuck on probability. Seventh-grade math. Hachiman despaired.
"Okay, look," he said, rubbing his temples, feeling a vital part of his soul shrivel and die. "Probability of picking a specific girl's phone number out of a hat. If there are ten numbers, and only one is Kushida-chan's, what's your chance of picking hers?"
Their eyes, previously glazed over, suddenly lit up.
"One in ten!" Ike shouted, as if he'd just solved quantum physics.
Hachiman sighed. "Right. Now, what if there are two numbers belonging to girls you find… attractive… out of twenty total?"
He had to endure another ten minutes of increasingly cringeworthy examples involving dating odds and gacha game pull rates. Kushida was giggling beside them, though Hachiman caught a distinct twitch at the corner of her eye – amusement, or perhaps disgust at his methods? Horikita, meanwhile, was watching him with an undisguised smirk. Oh, she was definitely going to hold this over his head. The sight of the stoic, cynical Hikigaya Hachiman debasing himself to explain basic concepts using dating analogies was clearly a source of immense entertainment for her.
Once again, their weaknesses complemented each other. She prepared the ammunition; he figured out how to fire it without causing collateral damage to the idiots' fragile egos.
As they left the library, Horikita, as predicted, started in on him.
"So, Hikigaya-kun," she said, her voice laced with amusement. "Evaluating potential partners based on probability, are we? Is that how you plan to find your future meal-ticket- I mean, wife, for your grand house-husband scheme?"
"It was a relatable example for their limited intellects," Hachiman grumbled, his cheeks feeling slightly warm. "And my future wife will be selected based on her earning potential and tolerance for profound cynicism, thank you very much."
"Of course," she said, the smirk still playing on her lips.
After the teasing subsided, they moved on to more serious matters.
"The study sessions are helping," Horikita conceded, "but it's not enough. Sudou-kun, in particular, is still dangerously close to failing multiple subjects. We need a more… definitive solution."
"You have that 'I have a cunning plan' look in your eye," Hachiman observed.
"I propose we acquire past exam papers," she said. "Specifically, the first-year reference test and midterm papers from a third-year Class D student. Since they are also in Class D, they should be more amenable to negotiation, and likely desperate for points."
Hachiman considered it. "It's a gamble. The tests might not be identical. But it's a better gamble than relying on Sudou suddenly developing a passion for calculus."
Their hunt led them to the cafeteria, where they spotted a downtrodden-looking third-year student nursing the free vegetable set. Classic Class D behavior.
Horikita gestured for Hachiman to take the lead in negotiations. He was, surprisingly, better at the subtle art of the deal than her more direct approach would allow.
Hachiman sat down opposite the senior. "Excuse me, senpai. We're first-years from Class D. We were wondering if you might still have your old first-year reference test and midterm exam papers."
The senior looked up, surprised. "Maybe. Why?"
"We're willing to offer 10,000 private points for copies of both," Hachiman stated.
The senior's eyes lit up. "10,000? Make it 30,000."
Hachiman didn't flinch. "Senpai, with all due respect, you're eating the free vegetables. We both know you need the points. 10,000 is a fair offer. If not, we can always ask someone else." He made a subtle motion as if to stand.
The senior hesitated. The bluff worked. "Alright, alright! 15,000. Final offer."
"Deal," Hachiman said, transferring the points.
As they walked away with the precious data, Horikita remarked, "It seems selling old exam papers is a common practice here. Otherwise, why would he still have them so readily available?"
Back in Hachiman's room, Horikita meticulously compared the senior's reference test with the one they had taken. "They're identical," she announced, a hint of triumph in her voice. "Every question. This means there's a very high probability the midterm papers will also be the same, or at least very similar."
"Good," Hachiman said. "But we don't give these to the class right away. Especially not the idiot trio. They'll get lazy. And Horikita," he added, "you take all the credit for this. Tell everyone you figured out how to get the old papers."
She looked at him, surprised. "Why?"
"Because if you want to reach Class A, you need influence," he explained. "Influence is gained by being perceived as valuable, by contributing visibly. This is a big win. Use it."
He also sent a discreet message to Hirata:
To: Hirata Yosuke
From: Anonymous
Subject: Midterm Intel
The S-System info was from me. Horikita Suzune figured out the core mechanics and also secured past midterm papers which will be distributed. Make sure she gets the credit she deserves. She's working to pull this class up.
Hirata, having never shared the exact content of the original anonymous message with anyone but Kushida, would know this follow-up was legitimate.
One day before the midterms, Horikita "revealed" her acquisition of the old exam papers to the class. The relief and gratitude were palpable. Then Hirata, with genuine admiration, announced, "Everyone, I also found out that the anonymous tip about the S-System, the one that warned us and helped us get those 211 points? It was Horikita-san who figured it all out and had that message sent!"
The classroom erupted. Suddenly, Horikita Suzune wasn't just the aloof, smart girl; she was their savior. Boys were calling her "Horikita-sama" and "Our Angel." Hachiman, watching from the sidelines, saw a flicker of something – annoyance? Jealousy? – cross Kushida's perfectly angelic face for a split second before it was gone.
Horikita, overwhelmed by the sudden deluge of praise, responded with her typical blunt honesty. "I am doing this for myself, to reach Class A. Your passing benefits me."
The effect was not quite what she intended. Instead of alienating them, her honesty, combined with her actions, led to a new nickname: "The Tsundere Queen of Class D." Hachiman almost choked on his own saliva.
The midterms came and went. Thanks to the old papers and the targeted study sessions, no one from Class D failed. In fact, their overall average was remarkably high. The results were announced a week later:
Class A: +81 Class Points (Total: 1021)
Class B: +79 Class Points (Total: 949)
Class C: +65 Class Points (Total: 555)
Class D: +89 Class Points (Total: 300)
Class D had scored the highest point increase. The news spread like wildfire.
In Class B, Ayanokoji Kiyotaka watched the results with his usual impassive expression.
"It seems Class D had a good strategy," Ichinose commented beside him.
"They likely acquired old exam papers from a third-year Class D senior," Ayanokoji stated quietly. "The fact that this school allows such a thing, and that the tests remain largely unchanged, is a system flaw they exploited."
"Why didn't you suggest that to us, Ayanokoji-kun?" Kanzaki asked, overhearing him.
"Because Class B is capable enough to succeed without such measures," Ayanokoji replied. "Resorting to that would have been an admission of weakness we don't possess. The person behind Class D's strategy clearly didn't have the same faith in their classmates."
Later, as Ayanokoji was walking back to the dorms, Ichinose caught up to him.
"Ayanokoji-kun, you seem… troubled by something more than just the exam results."
Ayanokoji paused. He decided, for once, to be somewhat honest, to gauge her reaction, to understand her character better. "I don't think I belong in Class B, Ichinose."
She looked surprised. "What do you mean?"
"This is a class of generally good, socially capable students," he explained. "Yes, some struggle, like Himeno or Kanzaki initially, but they have strong academics or other clear merits. I have neither. My scores are average, my social skills… lacking. My enrollment here feels like a mistake, or perhaps… forceful. Like I took a spot from someone more deserving."
Ichinose listened patiently, then smiled, a warm, genuine smile that seemed to radiate kindness. "Ayanokoji-kun, that doesn't matter. The school placed you here. If there was a mistake, it was made by the authorities, not by you. It has nothing to do with your worth." She tilted her head. "I remember your introduction. You said you were homeschooled for most of your life, right? And that you took the entrance exam without your father's knowledge. That explains why you might feel awkward socially. It takes time to adjust! Instead of worrying about things you can't control, why don't you try to enjoy your time here? Make some friends?"
Ayanokoji just nodded, but his internal thoughts were a maelstrom. This woman… she's so naive. So genuinely… good. She reminded him intensely of his father's former butler, Matsuo. The man who had, at great personal risk, spirited him away from the White Room for a year. A year where Matsuo had patiently taught him about the "average" world, how to blend in, how to score between 60 and 70 on exams instead of a perfect 50 on everything to feign mediocrity more convincingly. Matsuo had done it all knowing the terrible price he and his own son might pay.
"Why did you help me?" Ayanokoji had asked him once.
Matsuo had smiled sadly. "A boy who has never known love, never known freedom… needs no reason to be helped. All I want, Kiyotaka, is for you to become a real human being. To find your own joy."
Ayanokoji hadn't understood then. He still didn't, fully. What was so special about being human? Matsuo was almost certainly dead now, a consequence of his father's wrath. And for what? For this "kindness," this "humanity"?
His primary goal in this school wasn't just freedom from his father; it was to understand. To understand what Matsuo had sacrificed everything for. And maybe, just maybe, Ichinose Honami, with her unwavering, almost blinding benevolence, could teach him. Maybe she held the answer to the value of this idiocy Matsuo called kindness.
That evening, an impromptu "celebration" occurred in Hachiman's room. The Idiot Trio, Kushida, and, to Hachiman's profound surprise, Horikita, had shown up with snacks and cheap soda. It was loud, chaotic, and Hachiman mostly retreated to his usual corner with Horikita, who also looked deeply uncomfortable with the social revelry.
After an hour, the invaders finally departed. Kushida was the last to leave, offering to help Hachiman clean up the minor mess.
"Thanks for everything today, Hikigaya-kun, Horikita-san!" she chirped, her smile as bright as ever. "We really pulled together as a class!"
Once she was gone, Hachiman was about to collapse onto his bed when he glanced out his window. He saw Kushida's retreating figure. But instead of heading towards the girls' dorm, she was walking away from it, towards a more deserted part of the campus. It was well past curfew.
Suspicion, that old familiar friend, prickled at him. Where is she going?
He slipped out of his room and followed, keeping to the shadows.
He found her near the same secluded alleyway where he'd witnessed the Horikita sibling drama. But this time, Kushida was alone. And she was… different.
The angelic smile was gone, replaced by a twisted sneer. She began to pace, muttering to herself, then suddenly, she started kicking and punching one of the metal support poles of a nearby building.
"Damn it! Damn it all!" she hissed, her voice low and venomous. "Those annoying girls, always fawning! And those pervert boys, disgusting! And that Horikita! That bitch! Thinking she's so smart, so superior! And Hikigaya! Always with her, that creepy, dead-eyed freak! Why won't they just leave me alone?!"
Her face was contorted with a rage and frustration that was terrifying to behold. This was the real Kushida Kikyo. The one who had destroyed a classroom with words.
Hachiman, hidden in the darkness, felt a chill run down his spine. This wasn't just a two-faced girl; this was someone genuinely unhinged. He discreetly pulled out his phone and started recording. This was too dangerous to ignore.
He slipped away as silently as he'd come, his heart pounding. Back in the safety of his room, he immediately sent the video file to Horikita with simple message:
To: Horikita Suzune
From: H.H.
Subject: Our Class Angel.
You need to see this.
A few minutes later, his phone buzzed.
To: H.H.
From: Horikita Suzune
…I see. This is… far worse than I imagined. To hate me so much, simply for existing and potentially knowing her secret… a secret I have no concrete proof of. She's not just manipulative; she's unstable. We need to be very, very careful with her. And eventually… we may need to get rid of her.
Hachiman stared at his phone. The fragile peace of Class D, bought with old exam papers and reluctant cooperation, suddenly felt a lot more precarious. A monster was lurking in their midst, wearing the face of an angel. And now, two of them knew.