Instinctively, Hikigaya ducked into a shadowed corner, his eyes narrowing as he peered toward the source of the sound.
Three figures stood in the dim light—two men and one woman. One of the boys, the one with glasses, was relentlessly punching and kicking the other, while the woman leaned weakly against a nearby wall.
Wow, it's like a scene from a Shura field!
…but something felt off.
Hikigaya recognized them—Horikita's siblings and Ayanokouji.
Why was Horikita's brother fighting Ayanokouji? And…is this a Shura field?
In just a brief moment, the two boys had exchanged several blows and counterattacks. Horikita Manabu's attacks were fierce and precise, clearly the result of significant martial arts training.
Yet, Ayanokouji was equally, if not more, impressive. His movements were calculated, effortlessly neutralizing each of Horikita's strikes.
Are these two even human? Why not skip school and join the Kengan Competition?
As Hikigaya silently lamented their extraordinary skills, the two combatants paused.
"That's some good technique. I didn't expect you to evade my attacks so consistently," Horikita Manabu remarked, a hint of respect in his voice.
"You even seem to anticipate my next moves. Have you trained?"
"I've learned piano and calligraphy," Ayanokouji replied, ever humble.
"I even won a national piano competition back in elementary school."
…This guy is seriously full of shit.
Hikigaya resisted the urge to roll his eyes. According to Haruno, Ayanokouji had been raised in a secretive organization, with little to no exposure to the outside world.
Competing in a national piano competition? Not likely!
"How long do you plan on hiding over there?"
To Hikigaya's surprise, Ayanokouji suddenly turned his gaze in his direction.
Damn, I've been spotted?
Hikigaya was taken aback. He had always prided himself on his stealth, yet here he was, exposed so easily. Has my presence grown too strong recently?
"If you don't come out, I'll drag you out," Ayanokouji warned, his tone firm.
…Tch, what a nuisance.
Hikigaya inwardly cursed Ayanokouji's perceptiveness. Couldn't the guy just let him watch in peace?
Just wait, I'll get you back for this!
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt," Hikigaya said as he stepped out from his hiding spot.
"It's just…there's a very Shura-like vibe between you two, and I don't want to get caught up in it."
"…Hikigaya, is that you?"
Horikita Manabu's eyes widened slightly in recognition, as did Horikita's. Only Ayanokouji seemed unsurprised.
Then again, not everyone was as keenly observant as he was.
"I didn't expect you to be lurking nearby… I didn't sense your presence at all."
"Yeah, yeah, it's not like this is the first time we've met, President. You know I'm invisible."
Hikigaya brushed off Horikita Manabu's comment before turning his attention to Ayanokouji.
"You're one reserved guy."
"No, I just…"
"I didn't expect you to be a pianist!" Hikigaya cut him off. "And to have competed nationally, no less. Which competition was it? What year?"
"…Huh?"
Ayanokouji was caught completely off guard. He had anticipated questions about the earlier fight with Horikita Manabu and had already prepared a convenient excuse. But this…piano thing? How was he supposed to handle this?
Though Ayanokouji was indeed skilled at the piano, he had never competed publicly. His experience was limited to private sessions with professionals.
What should he say?
"Why are you so interested? You don't seem like the type who's ever touched a piano," Ayanokouji tried to deflect.
"It's like this." Hikigaya pressed on, not letting him off the hook. "I have a neighbor who loves playing the piano. He's competed in national competitions but has never won. I was curious if he might have lost to you."
"Uh…"
"Just tell me the name of the competition. I'll look it up online later."
Like Ayanokouji, Hikigaya had a knack for lying without missing a beat. This was one area where he didn't lose out to the masterpiece!
Ayanokouji had never truly hated anyone before. To him, hatred was an emotion devoid of meaning. But whenever he was around Hikigaya Hachiman, he couldn't help but feel a tightness in his chest.
Being called reserved was one thing, but now Hikigaya wouldn't let go of this bizarre piano obsession.
It was almost as if he was deliberately picking a fight…
"Hikigaya, let's set that aside for now."
Horikita Manabu seemed to notice Ayanokouji's discomfort and intervened.
"You saw what happened just now. What are you going to do?"
"Do? What's there to do?" Hikigaya looked genuinely confused. "President, you're the one fighting Ayanokouji, not me. I don't care."
Ayanokouji: "…"
Technically, Ayanokouji hadn't been beaten, but arguing the point seemed pointless.
He remained silent.
"But I have to say, it's surprising to see the student council president roughing up a first-year student."
Hikigaya suddenly smiled, then added, "And choosing a spot with no cameras to do it, no less. You always tell me to be mindful of my position as a student council member, but when it's you…school discipline will be in tears."
"…What do you want?"
Horikita Manabu's face remained neutral, but inside, he was deeply annoyed by Hikigaya's peculiar tone.
Initially, he had only wanted to test Ayanokouji's skills on a whim. He hadn't expected to be caught by one of the school's most troublesome students.
After months of observing and interacting with Hikigaya, Horikita Manabu felt that he was a good kid, certainly better than that blonde delinquent he had once recommended—someone with ability but no character.
However, perhaps due to his association with Haruno, Hikigaya had developed a taste for mischief. Sometimes, he even disregarded the authority of his seniors and teachers.
While this fearless attitude was exactly what Horikita Manabu needed in someone to balance the future student council president, it was not something he wanted to be directed at himself.
"What do you mean, 'what do I want'? I don't need anything," Hikigaya replied innocently.
"…How about I give you some points to keep quiet?"
Horikita Manabu feared that Hikigaya's indifference might spell future trouble. Considering that Class D had received zero points this year and that Hikigaya likely needed living expenses, offering him some points might keep him quiet.
What Horikita Manabu didn't know was that Hikigaya had recently come into a decent amount of wealth, so he did not need such a small bribe.
However, there was something Hikigaya did want.
"President, you also had quizzes in your first year, right? Do you remember the last three questions? Were they particularly difficult?"
"…What are you getting at?"
"I'd like you to give me the test papers from the year before last and last year, just for reference."
"What?!" Horikita Manabu, Ayanokouji, and even Horikita reacted in unison to Hikigaya's request.
"Is that enough?" Horikita glanced at his sister, his expression unreadable. "Are you sure you don't need anything else?"
"No, just the last three questions," Hikigaya replied.
"I see…"
Horikita Manabu didn't press further, but after a brief pause, he nodded.
"Alright. Tomorrow during lunch break—no, come to the student council room after school, and I'll hand it to you then."
"Huh? Why not just take a picture with your phone and send it to me?" Hikigaya asked, puzzled.
"...Just be there tomorrow."
Before Hikigaya could argue, Horikita Manabu turned his attention to his sister.
"Suzune, I have to say, I'm surprised to see you with friends. I didn't think you had any."
"They aren't—"
"President, you've got it wrong," Hikigaya interjected. "Your sister and I aren't friends. If anything, it seems Ayanokouji might be."
"No, I'm not either."
Influenced by Hikigaya's quick denial, Ayanokouji hastily echoed the sentiment.
"Uh..."
Horikita Manabu was momentarily at a loss for words, thrown off by the duo's blunt rejections. Finally, he turned to his sister and said, "Suzune, it seems you haven't changed. If you want to move up to the upper classes, you'll have to fight for it. There's no other way."
With that, he turned on his heel and left without a backward glance.
The urgency in his departure stemmed from a growing frustration—if he stayed any longer, he feared he might lose control and give Hikigaya the scolding he deserved.
After Horikita Manabu left, the atmosphere thickened, leaving behind three socially inept individuals.
Hikigaya felt a wave of awkwardness wash over him.
It had been easier with the president around; at least he was a familiar face. But now, alone with Ayanokouji and Horikita, he was at a loss. What kind of expression was appropriate in this situation?
Maybe a smile?
...Never mind. It's better to just leave.
"Well, I should—"
"Wait a moment!"
Horikita suddenly called out, halting him in his tracks. As always, she was oblivious to the nuances of social cues.
"I didn't expect you to actually know my brother."
"…Why would I lie about something like that?"