After leaving the classroom, Hikigaya walked slowly down the hallway, hands in his pockets, heading toward the auditorium where club meetings were being held.
'Maybe I should've asked Chabashira-sensei a few questions… Like how the point system actually works, or why the teachers act like everything's normal when half the class is already treating every lecture like a free period.'
He considered it but then, 'No, that would be pointless,' he thought, pushing the idea aside.
If the teachers were pretending not to notice, they were doing it on purpose. This school clearly wasn't interested in offering hand-holding explanations, and Chabashira's vague comment about everyone getting 100,000 points felt a little too… neat.
If he started poking around now, openly asking about the system, he might end up drawing attention he didn't want. Worst case possibility, the school administration might think he was trying to expose whatever assessment this was to the other students and that could lead him getting punished for that.
'If this whole thing is a test, then maybe they'll try to shut me up before I figure out too much. After all, can't have the rat warning the other rats that the maze is rigged from the start.'
That was probably too dramatic. But still, it's better to assume the worst Scenario possible.
Hikigaya wondered if maybe the school actually wanted them to figure this out. All the clues around, the vague explanations, it felt like a puzzle the administration expected the students to solve on their own.
Even if that were true, this wasn't the time to play detective. He had enough to deal with already just getting through the academic assessments was hard enough. For now, keeping his head down and focusing on what he could control felt like the smarter move.
'Better to avoid any unnecessary risks for now,' he thought quietly. 'The school's stance isn't clear yet, and I've already got enough to deal with without adding mystery-solving to the list. But still… I'm not about to let this go. It's just… maybe it's time I take a different approach.'
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Clubs at this school are something else. No wonder so many students are here… huh."
As soon as Hikigaya entered the gym, nearly all of the students assembled there were freshmen. There were about a hundred people waiting around. While waiting, he glanced over the pamphlet that students received upon entering the gymnasium. The pamphlet contained detailed information about club activities.
"Every club seems to operate at a really high level. Looks like a lot of the athletes and members here are already nationally recognized."
Even though this school didn't seem like a top-tier institution for activities like baseball and ballet, the clubs here certainly looked great.
"Still… joining one of those sports clubs? Sounds like a pain."
Becoming a regular member in a club filled with nationally ranked athletes wasn't going to be easy. Especially not for a first-year. Even if someone had the skills, they'd still need to prove themselves every day, every match, under pressure. One mistake, and they'd probably be benched without a second thought.
"Thank you all for waiting, first-year students. We will now begin the club fair. A representative from each club will explain their function. My name is Tachibana, the student council secretary and the club fair's organizer. It's nice to meet you all."
After Tachibana delivered the opening remarks, representatives from each club quickly lined up on a stage. It was quite a diverse crowd. The club representatives included everything from burly athletes in judo uniforms to students dressed in beautiful kimonos.
In his mind, he mused with dry amusement, 'Before I decided to drop out of middle school, I was already a dedicated member of the Go-Home Club no training, No meetings, no practice, just me and my Vita-chan after School.'
He wandered aimlessly, pamphlet still in hand, pretending to be interested while mostly just avoiding eye contact.
"Are you thinking of joining a club too, Hikigaya-san?" a calm voice asked from beside him.
He turned to see Ayanokoji standing there, his expression as unreadable as ever.
"Maybe," Hikigaya replied vaguely. "If something interesting comes up. Like a club where you just sit around doing nothing. Probably."
Ayanokoji nodded, as if that made perfect sense. "So... none then. Were you in any club before?"
"You mean like in middle school?" Hikigaya asked, and Ayanokoji nodded.
Just as Hikigaya was about to dismiss him, someone cut in.
"Just look at him. Does he really strike you as someone who's ever belonged anywhere, let alone a club?" Horikita said, stepping forward as if correcting a simple mistake.
Hikigaya stiffened slightly, his expression freezing mid-reply.
'Huh? Wait, what? Why is she insulting me out of nowhere...? Is she still hung up on what happened in the classroom, or do I just have one of those faces that naturally attracts insults?'
"Let me guess," she continued, eyes fixed on Hikigaya, "You were one of those kids who rushed back home the moment the final bell rang, weren't you?"
Hikigaya was caught off guard. He looked away a bit, unsure how to respond, like he hadn't expected her to hit the mark so easily.
'Is it really that obvious? Am I that easy to read now? Have I turned into a walking stereotype now?'
Horikita smirked. "Yes, it is painfully obvious."
'Great. Maybe she's reading my mind too,' he thought.
"No, I'm not reading your mind," she said bluntly. "It's just basic observation. Judging by your demeanour, your biggest contribution to any club would be warming an empty chair in the back of the room."
'Ouch! Didn't think she'd hit that hard. This bitch sure loves to go all in, doesn't she?'
"…I'll have you know I was a proud member of the Go-Home Club in my Junior-high," Hikigaya said. "Loyal to the end. We even had a motto: 'Leave before you're noticed.'"
Horikita scoffed. "So now you're bragging about having no club experience? How pitiful."
"Absolutely," Hikigaya replied with a straight face. "It takes real dedication to commit to absolutely nothing and still walk away feeling more accomplished than anyone around."
Horikita glanced at him flatly. "Somehow, that explains your entire miserable existence."
Hikigaya decided to brush off Horikita's jab and shifted his gaze to Ayanokoji, aiming to steer the conversation away from himself.
"So, are you planning to join any club, Ayanokoji? You seem like the type who could actually be useful."
Ayanokoji paused. "Oh, I'm not sure, I guess. I'm still thinking about it. Probably not, though."
Horikita raised an eyebrow. "You don't plan to join a club, but you want to go to the club fair? How convenient. Using it as an excuse to talk to people and make friends, perhaps?"
Hikigaya thought, "Heh, so it's not just me. Good to know the ice queen distributes her judgment equally. How noble."
"Well," Hikigaya dryly said. "At least he's trying something. You, Horikita looks like someone who would rather fight a bear than to make a single friend."
Ayanokoji was briefly surprised to see Hikigaya defending him against Horikita. But it didn't take long for him to realize this wasn't about him. Hikigaya was simply using him as a convenient tool to get back at her.
"I don't need any friends," Horikita replied without hesitation. "Socializing is inefficient and usually meaningless."
"Is that so?" Hikigaya replied. "Sounds like you're basing that on some solid research, huh."
Horikita shot him a glare. "Unlike others, I don't need other people to validate my decisions."
Hikigaya gave her a thoughtful look. "I mean... fair. But have you actually tried talking to people before deciding you don't need them? Or was that just the easiest way for you to escape reality?"
That seemed to hit a nerve, as she suddenly went silent for a moment, as if completely caught off guard by his question.
Then she scowled deeply at him. "You're the last person who should be giving advice on social interaction to people."
"Heh, that's where you're wrong," Hikigaya said, placing a hand on his chest with mock seriousness. "I actually had plenty of friends back in junior high."
Horikita gave him a long, skeptical look, then scoffed. "Right. And I suppose someone like Yamauchi is a national-level prodigy in both table tennis and baseball at the inter-high too?"
Hikigaya winced. "Ouch. That's... incredibly specific slander."
"I'm just saying," she replied flatly, "I'd find that easier to believe than the idea of you being socially accepted anywhere."
'This bitch is tearing me apart. I mean… she's not wrong actually. But still, does she have to sound so proud about it?' Hikigaya then glanced beside her, only to see Ayanokoji also nodding his head along in complete agreement. 'Oyy. I thought we were supposed to be on the same side. So why are you nodding along with her like she's spitting facts? I pitied you, man. That's the thanks I get?'
Hikigaya didn't react. Instead, he sighed softly and stared at a far corner of the ceiling, like he was remembering something sad.
"Can't we just be friends?" a girl asked him once, smiling. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.
They never even spoke again after that.
'Thanks to that, I ended up wondering if friendship was just a relationship where two people avoid conversation like it's a contagious disease.'
But hey, technically she did ask. That counts, right? One friend. Multiply that by a few other similar cases, and suddenly he had "plenty" of friends.
He nodded to himself with mock satisfaction. "Yep. I had friends. Tons of them. We just didn't talk. At all. Ever."
Ayanokoji tilted his head. "So… you mean like acquaintances?"
"Wrong," Hikigaya said, pointing at him. "They were... uh, more like Schrödinger's friends, yeah. Neither confirmed nor denied. The bond exists in a state of unspoken ambiguity, the purest form of connection."
At that moment, Hikigaya deployed one of his 108 loner skills: the fine art of serving up nonsense with just enough plausibility to make people question their life choices. Half-truth, half nonsense, and a healthy dose of "Did he really just say that?" delivered with zero hesitation.
'A sad skill, I guess. I've been honing it for years, talking constantly to myself since no one else was interested in talking to me. Pathetic? Sure. But hey, if you're going to be alone, might as well get good at something.'
Ayanokoji stared at Hikigaya, his expression unreadable, but for a moment, there was the faintest flicker of curiosity.
"…Schrödinger's friends," he muttered. 'Strange. I don't recall that being in any of the White Room modules.'
Ayanokoji looked genuinely thoughtful. 'Maybe it was part of the unstructured emotional theory course…?'
Horikita rubbed her temples like she was fighting off a migraine.
"You two are impossible," she muttered. "One speaks so much nonsense, and the other actually entertains it."
"Correction," Hikigaya said, glancing at Ayanokoji. "He doesn't agree with me. He just keeps an open mind."
Ayanokoji nodded. "Well… it doesn't hurt to stay open to different perspectives. Even the weird ones. I suppose."
Horikita stared at them in disbelief, then muttered under her breath, "Great. I'm stuck with these lunatics."
Ayanokoji looked at Hikigaya, who was now arguing with Horikita over something that probably didn't matter. The guy was strange talked in circles, made jokes that barely made sense, and somehow dragged logic into nonsense.
And yet… people responded to him. Even if it was mostly with eye-rolls and headaches.
He wasn't trying to impress anyone. He just said what he thought, no matter how bizarre. There was a kind of freedom in that. Something Ayanokoji wasn't used to.
It was irrational, but... maybe that's what made it interesting.
A brief hopeful thought crossed Ayanokoji's mind.
'Would it be weird if I asked Hikigaya to be friends with me?'