Hikigaya remained on the floor, idly brushing dust off his uniform with a sigh, until he heard a cold voice.
"…What exactly are you doing, Hikigaya-kun?" Horikita asked, standing a few steps away with her arms crossed, glaring down at him.
He blinked up at her, completely unmoved. "Hmm? Just... re-evaluating my life choices, I guess."
"That's not something you do while sitting on the classroom floor," she snapped. "Get up already. It's creepy."
He slowly stood up, brushing dust from his pants. "Really now? You too Horikita? At this rate, I should start charging people for the privilege of insulting me."
Horikita narrowed her eyes slightly. "Don't misunderstand. I'm not trying to mock you. I'm just being honest what you did back there felt really weird to watch."
Hikigaya continued "Seriously? I'm the poor victim here, who just got body-slammed into the floor, and somehow, I'm the creepy one? And here I thought victims were supposed to get sympathy, not made fun of."
"I'm not making fun of you. I'm just stating a fact. The way you sat there… silent, with that look on your face—it was quiet unsettling. If I had been on the receiving end of it, I probably would've called campus security by now."
'Yep, if that was the case then it's still effective. Her reaction says it all.'
When Sudō tried to intimidate him, he activated one of the finest techniques from his 108 Loner Skills: The Infamous Dead Fish Glare.
It's simple, really. He just stares at people without blinking, lips curled into a faint creepy smile and lets his charming fishy eyes do the rest. Most of the time people usually back off, mostly because he ends up looking like he's about to violate someone's human rights.
And thanks to his chronic insomnia, the dark circles under his eyes add bonus intimidation points. He practically radiates an unholy creepy aura—and he's learned to weaponize it whenever necessary.
It's a bit depressing that his most effective tool is looking like a sleep-deprived cultist…
'But hey—an aura is an aura. Creepy or not, at least I can farm one.'
So, he didn't bother denying anything. "Ouch. I was going to argue, but that would probably just prove your point even more. So, before someone actually calls security… on me shall we get going?"
He let out a quiet sigh as Horikita gave a dismissive "hmph" and turned sharply on her heel, clearly done with the conversation.
Hikigaya trailed behind by a few steps, hands in his pockets, his gaze flicking at her from behind.
They walked in silence for a bit as they made their way toward the campus café.
After a few steps, Hikigaya finally spoke up. "So, um… Horikita, you said you had something to ask me earlier?"
She glanced sideways at him with that usual haughty tilt of her chin. "Since you seem so eager to answer, I suppose I'll indulge you then."
'Tch… This damn woman.' He mentally clicked his tongue. 'She's shifting the blame onto me, like I wanted this interrogation. Unreal.'
Still, he gave a resigned shrug. "Fine. Ask whatever. You did agree to come along."
She didn't delay.
"Why do you keep doing it?" she asked, tone even, but with a faint thread of curiosity under the usual firmness. "I mean in class. Those questions. You act like you actually want to know, but… they're so childish it's hard to believe you're not doing it deliberately."
He gave her a glance, then shrugged again. "I mean… isn't school for learning? If I don't know something, I ask. That's how it's supposed to work, right?"
She narrowed her eyes. "But is it worth all the attention you are getting? I thought you are someone who avoids it."
"Well, it is troublesome, but still a lot better than doing nothing—just sitting around pretending everything will be fine just because things seem okay right now. That kind of thinking only leads to bigger headaches later, I suppose."
Even though he gave her an answer, it wasn't just to respond it was his way of hinting at the bigger picture. But it seemed to fly right over her head. Not that he was surprised.
She gave him a side-eyed glance, but didn't argue. "Is that so."
They walked a little further in silence before she added, "Hikigaya-kun, do you remember the Novel that you were reading on the first day?"
Hikigaya's eyes narrowed slightly at the sudden question.
"…Yeah. It was one of Christie's works," he said, vaguely. "But what does that have to do with anything?"
"It has," she replied curtly, folding her arms again. "And it wasn't just any of her works a casual reader would pick up. If I'm not mistaken, it was The Moving Finger, wasn't it?"
He raised an eyebrow, "Yeah… so?"
She didn't stop walking, but her eyes flicked to him again. "Then you should already know that the novel is filled with various references from the Bible. It has also various Christian themes the kind of content someone unfamiliar with Christianity wouldn't exactly would be able read so casually."
"And?"
"And yet," she continued, tone tightening, "you were the one who asked the teacher during class who Jesus was. As if you had no clue about Christianity at all."
Ah. So that's where she was going with this.
Hikigaya let out a short sigh. 'Man, she's sharp. Her observation skills are no joke. I didn't expect her to notice that of all things… but as usual, her lack of social awareness completely ruins the balance.'
He gave her a lazy glance. "So, you're saying I exposed myself as a fraud in literary taste? Or that I'm lying about what I know?"
"I'm saying," she said flatly, "that your act isn't as subtle as you think. You knew what you were doing don't you?"
"Fine, you got me Horikita." He decided not to deny any further. "Yeah, I knew. Of course I knew."
"I figured if I asked something really basic, they'd assume I was completely clueless and start from the beginning. That way, whatever they teach ends up being more detailed. Dumb questions get thorough answers, after all."
"…I see. So, you deliberately lowered expectations," she muttered. "To ensure everything gets explained."
He gave a small nod. "Well, maybe something like that..."
"That's all there is to it?" she asked, giving him a sharp glance. "You're going through all that trouble just to get better explanations? There are other ways, you know. It feels like you're clearly up to something."
Hikigaya raised an eyebrow. "This is starting to sound more and more like an interrogation instead of simple curiosity. Why are you so interested in my business anyway?"
"I'm the one asking the questions here, Hikigaya-kun," she said curtly. "And if you're not willing to answer, I might just reconsider going to the café with you. You should be grateful, you know—I already wasted enough time getting caught up in your little scuffle with Sudo. The least you can do is answer a few simple questions."
'Tch… This woman,' he cursed internally, suppressing the urge to sigh again. 'Acts like she's doing me a favor by breathing the same air. And yet…' He rubbed the back of his neck, mind clicking into motion. 'Still… maybe it's worth throwing her a bone.'
Hikigaya exhaled. "Alright then, let me ask you something for a change. What do you think about the money we received? The one hundred thousand points."
She looked at him, puzzled. "It was way too generous. I didn't expect that from a school like this. It felt… off, honestly."
"Right," he said simply.
Her brow furrowed. "Why are you asking me this?"
"To answer your earlier question," he said, almost too casually. "Just humor me a bit."
She didn't look satisfied, but she nodded. "Fine."
"Do you remember what Chabashira-sensei said when she handed us those points? On what basis we were given that money?"
She gave it a moment of thought. "Something about proving our worth as students. That this school evaluates students' talents and potential."
"Exactly," he said, snapping his fingers. "Now let me ask: do you think you're more talented than the rest of the class?"
She didn't hesitate. "Of course, I am."
"Then tell me this Horikita," he continued, "if those points were really based on our worth or evaluation, why did every student in our class receive the exact same amount? Shouldn't someone like you have gotten more—and someone like me, much less?"
She stopped mid-step, just for a moment.
"…That's…" Her brows furrowed. "Maybe… the school wanted to give everyone an equal starting line. So, things wouldn't seem unfair?"
"Maybe," Hikigaya allowed. "But don't you think it's strange the teacher still said it was based on our worth? That it was a result of evaluation? And then immediately after that she told us we would be getting these points on monthly basis.?"
She looked over at him again. This time, really looking.
"…You think those two statements are connected."
"I know they are."
She frowned. "Then why not just say it outright?"
"Didn't you admit you were better than the rest?" he said with a slight smirk. "I'd prefer if you arrived at the conclusion yourself. But if you're struggling… I suppose I could lend a hand."
She raised an eyebrow at his provocation. but didn't respond right away. Instead, she resumed walking, her expression thoughtful, eyes narrowing slightly as if turning his words over in her mind, searching for the meaning beneath them.
"Wait… now that I think about it. Chabashira-sensei never actually said we would be receiving the same amount every month. And even you… you only mentioned we would be getting points monthly just now," she said, narrowing her eyes as she suddenly stopped moving.
He smirked faintly. "Now you're thinking go on…"
She clicked her tongue in irritation. It annoyed her more than it should have that he was the one pointing this out someone who asked dumb questions in class and always looked like he didn't care about anything.
"So, you're saying," she continued, "the amount we receive from next month onward could change… and it'll depend on this 'evaluation' the teacher mentioned on day one?"
Hikigaya gave a noncommittal shrug, eyes still forward. "Well… maybe."
She crossed her arms, her tone growing sharper. "Then that would mean each student gets an amount tailored to them, based on performance or something. But what does that have to do with you acting like a clown in class?"
He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, his expression unreadable. "What indeed."
She had arrived at the conclusion quickly, but it was still incomplete. After all, he had thought the same at first—that students would be evaluated individually, just like in a typical school.
It was only after observing the differences between classes and his talk with Student Council President that he started to see the truth. From the way the system was structured and the President's responses about duty and interest, he roughly deduced that the evaluations weren't based on individuals only at all. They were evaluating entire classes as a whole.
Even now, he didn't fully understand the specifics of the system other than some aspect. But for now, he chose to refer to it with a name that made the most sense to him the Class Average since it was based on the combination of individual evaluation at class level.
Her gaze sharpened. "Are you plotting something here Hikigaya-kun?"
Hikigaya straightened up slightly and put on an exaggerated expression half smug, half theatrical as if he were on stage.
"Ah, but where would the thrill be in unveiling all my secrets now?" he said, his voice laced with mock drama. "A little mystery, O curious maiden, is the spice of the game. Let us grant the next chapter its rightful stage… for revelation."
He mentally applauded himself after saying it. 'Nice. That sounded kind of cool, didn't it?'
Then he glanced at Horikita.
Big mistake.
She blinked.
Then she stared at him.
Not with confusion. Not even with annoyance. Just… a slow, deliberate stare. Something very familiar.
The kind of look Komachi gave him after hearing one of his late-night philosophical ramblings right before she deducted thousands of Komachi points and crowned him Trash-nii of the week.
"…You're actually pleased with how that sounded, aren't you?" she asked flatly.
Hikigaya's proud smirk twitched.
"I mean," he tried to recover, "I was merely—"
She stared at him blankly, then looked away like she couldn't stand the second-hand embarrassment.
"…Please never say that again."
He cringed harder than she did. 'Why…? Why must the cursed spirit of chuunibyou possess me at critical moments?'
He coughed into his hand, trying to play it off. "Ahem. Anyway, you already admitted you're better than everyone. If you really are, then figure the rest out yourself. If not…" He gave her a sidelong look. "I'll be very, very disappointed in you, Horikita."
She huffed, clearly irritated "As if your disappointment holds any weight to begin with."
'And there she goes again, crushing people's sentiment like it's nothing.'
But he couldn't deny it—this conversation had been more interesting than most. And oddly enough… kind of fun.