Hikigaya Hachiman's reply came swiftly, bluntly, and without a shred of hesitation.
As if it were the most obvious truth in the world.
Helping Karuizawa again? No thanks. He had absolutely no desire to repeat that kind of exhausting social suicide mission.
Still rubbing his chin where Ryuuen had manhandled him, Hikigaya mentally noted that maybe he should file for medical compensation. That guy really didn't hold back.
"Hmm… I don't buy that," Karuizawa muttered, lips curling with doubt. "You'd still help me."
Hikigaya deadpanned.
She wasn't wrong. He probably would help again, but not because he wanted to. That sort of thinking could lead to dangerous assumptions.
If Karuizawa began expecting that kind of support—believing someone would always come to save her—then it might encourage her to take risks she couldn't handle.
"I said I wouldn't," he repeated firmly, then added, "You shouldn't rely on others so easily. I'm not as capable as you think. It just so happened that everything aligned this time—right time, right place, and the right idiot. That's all. There's no guarantee I'd be able to do anything next time."
He turned his face slightly, the first sign of seriousness slipping through his usual tired expression.
The facts were plain. Ryuuen wasn't someone to underestimate. Even in his current state, the guy could likely kill Hikigaya with one hand tied behind his back.
He didn't even know the full story of how the rooftop confrontation had been set up. But the very fact that Ryuuen could orchestrate a public show of dominance and drag in people like Ishizaki to participate spoke volumes about his influence.
That kind of control wasn't something Hikigaya could hope to match.
"And," he continued, voice tightening, "You really need to learn how to protect yourself. If you want to stop people from bullying you, you have to fight back."
"That's easy for you to say!"
Karuizawa suddenly slammed her hands on the table and stood up. Her eyes flared with anger.
"You talk like it's nothing—like it's just a game! But you don't know what it's like, do you?! To be afraid, really afraid… to feel like you're being hunted every second of the day… You've never felt that helpless! You're just pretending to understand!"
"Whoa… okay."
Hikigaya blinked, startled. The sudden emotional outburst hit harder than any of Ryuuen's punches.
He had no idea what he said to provoke such a reaction. Girls were terrifying. They could explode for reasons you didn't even know existed.
If Karuizawa had confronted Ryuuen with this kind of fire, the whole situation might've resolved in a single punch.
Then again, she probably just thought Hikigaya was too easy to push around.
But as quickly as the fire came, she seemed to realize her outburst had crossed a line.
Her shoulders slumped, and her tone softened.
"...Sorry," she said, her eyes avoiding his. "I'm just… in a bad mood."
"It's fine. I don't mind," Hikigaya said, waving his hand like he was brushing the moment away.
He could guess—just barely—what she was going through. The bullying Karuizawa had suffered probably went way beyond anything he'd experienced. And it wasn't just physical. There was psychological scarring involved—emotional trauma that didn't go away with apologies.
"That being said…"
He hesitated, then decided to explain himself.
"It's not like I'm just running my mouth. I've been through some stuff too, you know?"
"Huh?"
Karuizawa looked up, startled by the confession.
"Yeah." Hikigaya scratched his head awkwardly. "I've been bullied before. Probably not the same way, but I know that sick feeling you get when you're at the bottom."
"You? Bullied?"
She stared at him, genuinely surprised.
He nodded. "Ever since elementary school. I was ignored, laughed at, ostracized. People used to call me Pidgerella, like some twisted bird version of Cinderella. Even the classroom seating arrangement couldn't protect me."
"That… doesn't sound that bad."
Karuizawa blinked, unimpressed.
"Well, that was just the start."
Hikigaya smiled bitterly. "There was also the time someone stuffed garbage into my shoe locker. Or when I came to school and someone had written 'go die' on my desk. Or when kids would laugh at me behind my back and draw things on the blackboard."
Karuizawa froze, her hand subconsciously drifting to her stomach—the place where she still sometimes felt the phantom pain of past abuse.
It wasn't the same. But still… that kind of persistent humiliation wasn't easy either.
"Why do you talk about it like it's nothing?" she asked quietly. "Doesn't it disgust you?"
"Hmm… It used to. Yeah, I was definitely disgusted. But later, I just got angry."
He chuckled.
"And once I got angry… I started fighting back."
"Fighting…?" Karuizawa asked.
"Yeah. Want to know what I did?"
She nodded slowly.
Hikigaya leaned forward with mock pride.
"I started getting to school earlier than everyone else. Took all the garbage from my locker and stuffed it into other people's. Wrote 'die' on their desks. Filled their drawers with liquid glue. Things like that."
Karuizawa's jaw dropped.
"Wait… you retaliated?"
"Yup," he said, looking proud of himself. "And the best part? The teacher got scared it would escalate, so they had a meeting with the whole class. Everyone was too afraid to admit anything because they didn't know who did it. After that, it just… stopped."
Karuizawa couldn't believe it.
Hikigaya had no strength. He was socially awkward. He didn't have friends or a solid support network. And yet, somehow, he endured.
Maybe that was the difference between them.
He didn't let people crush him. He turned it around.
"But… weren't you scared?" she asked, voice unusually soft.
"Of course I was," he admitted. "But after a while, I realized something. If no one's going to protect me, then I've got to protect myself. Even if that means being the villain."
Karuizawa sat back down, folding her hands in her lap.
The room went quiet for a while.
"I… I wish I could be like that."
"You can," he said simply. "You just have to stop thinking of yourself as weak."
That sounded cliché even to him, but it was true. He knew people like her—people who waited for heroes to come save them. But Hikigaya never had that luxury.
"You're stronger than you think," he added.
Karuizawa didn't reply immediately. But the faintest hint of a smile touched her lips.
For the first time, she felt like someone actually understood her—not in a shallow, sympathetic way, but in a raw, mutual-battle-scars kind of way.
"Thanks… Hachiman."
Hearing his name from her so sincerely made him flinch.
"Don't make a habit of it," he muttered, looking away.
"Don't be so tsundere."
"Shut up."
They both laughed awkwardly. Just for a moment, the air between them didn't feel so heavy.
As they got up to leave, Karuizawa hesitated.
"Um… about what happened earlier, with Ryuuen… and with the others like Huko, Menlai, Juke, and even Hiyori…"
"You don't have to say it," Hikigaya cut her off. "I know."
Some people in their class came from the lower rungs of society. They had to look out for each other in ways others never understood.
It wasn't nobility. It was survival.
"People from the lower strata keep each other warm," he said, echoing something Yukino had once mocked.
And yet, even she—ice queen that she was—had come to understand that truth.
There was no honor in weakness, but there was still dignity in endurance.
And that was enough for now.
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