Chapter 4: Observation Is Not Innate
Hikigaya followed the notice on the bulletin board, learning that freshmen were to gather in the gymnasium for the opening ceremony before reporting to their respective classes.
That said, the so-called "opening ceremony" was nothing more than listening to a pile of useless nonsense.
Still, Hachiman recognized the bad woman—Horikita Suzune—who had already shown him her sharp tongue at the start of the year. She stood nearby, deliberately ignoring him even though they had just spoken earlier. Sure, he was used to being invisible, but this time it was definitely on purpose. Absolutely deliberate.
Could it be that the student council president on the podium is so captivating she can't look my way? Unbelievable.
At least the ceremony ended quickly. If there was one success, it was that they weren't forced to bake under the sun.
It's worthy of being called a public school.
Under the instructions of the student council president, Hori, each class was directed to their building. According to the map in the freshman handbook, Hachiman soon arrived at the sign marked "Class 1-D."
"Three years in this class… please don't let me encounter anyone too troublesome," he muttered, almost like a prayer.
He stepped inside. The room wasn't crowded yet. Since he had ignored the tempting distractions of the campus shopping district, he arrived early. If given the choice, he'd rather be at home, comfortably playing the role of a househusband.
According to the seating chart on the podium, his desk was in the very back row on the far left.
"Perfect. Back row means I can slack off unnoticed. Truly, the lucky few get seats like this."
He was satisfied. It not only lowered his visibility but also gave him a vantage point to quietly observe the rest of the class. For someone unsociable like him, this was a valuable source of information.
He quickly hung his bag on the hook, sat down, and leaned back in his chair.
But something about the atmosphere felt… wrong.
A blond boy lounged arrogantly with his feet on the desk, staring at his nails as though the world revolved around him. Nearby, a red-haired boy—stocky and rough—radiated the kind of hostility that screamed stay away.
Then there was a beautiful blonde ponytail girl, radiating aloofness even as she smoothly struck up conversation with others. And there—the short-haired girl from the bus, already chatting easily.
The classroom was buzzing, yet Hachiman's curiosity lingered only on one question.
"Who will be sitting next to me? Please don't let it be anyone troublesome…"
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In Class D (Aniverse Reactions)
Sudou: "This is… our class, right? I'm not seeing things?"
Kushida Kikyo: "Wait, when did this person show up? I don't remember anyone like him."
Even Kushida—the so-called social butterfly—couldn't place the boy in the video. If she hadn't noticed him, no one else would have either.
Hirata: "Why is this guy named Hikigaya sitting in Ayanokouji's seat?"
At once, the class turned to Ayanokouji. His usual low presence made him easy to overlook, but Hirata's words brought the spotlight on him.
Ayanokouji, however, simply shook his head, expression unreadable. His lack of reaction said enough.
"When you expect nothing, you won't be disappointed…"
Expressionless, Ayanokouji stared at the video where Hachiman had casually taken his seat.
"So. What will you do?"
---
Back in the Video
Hikigaya propped his chin with one hand, eyes half-closed as he silently scanned the classroom.
"That blond narcissist—so self-absorbed he doesn't even notice how ridiculous he looks. Probably hopeless, yet oddly confident."
"That girl, good with people but not quite like Yuigahama. Maybe something in her past pushed her to seek constant reassurance through 'friendship.' Insecurity in disguise."
"That timid one—afraid to speak first, clinging to others, desperate for control. Classic case of past bullying or domestic trouble. A parasite clinging for survival."
"And that cute, bright girl… hiding her real self behind forced smiles. With her looks, she'd shine in the entertainment world, yet here she masks it. No one else seems to notice."
"And then there's this… pathological solidarity. Reminds me of Hayama's fake niceness, maybe worse. Pure hypocrisy."
Hachiman opened his eyes fully, gaze sweeping across the room. Just by watching, he could sketch outlines of their personalities and even their scars. It wasn't certainty, but with time and observation, his deductions would prove themselves.
After all, this was his one and only talent: reading people.
Still, one question lingered.
"Who's sitting next to me?"
If everyone was as terrifying as the ones he'd already profiled, three years here would be hell.
"Please, let it be someone normal. Preferably an angel… like Ayaka…"