My name is Yukino Yukinoshita, from class 2-J.
At Shibu-shibu High, aside from the nine regular classes, there's one more—an International Curriculum. It's a special class, two or three notches higher than the average on the academic curve, made up mostly of students who've lived abroad or are preparing for exchange programs.
Among that class full of standouts—or perhaps, people who naturally draw attention—I stand at the center.
You could say I'm a straight-A student, consistently ranked at the top in both standard exams and specialized aptitude tests. I'm often the subject of attention, mostly due to what people call "uncommon beauty." There are many things others whisper behind my back—exaggerations, assumptions, and outright lies. But one thing that can't be disputed is the genetics I inherited from my mother and father. That, at least, is undeniable.
Today, I know that guy is coming. I just know it.
Hikigaya Hachiman.
He's in Class 2-C. Hiratsuka-sensei told me about him. A loner, apparently. I don't understand why he ended up in the same state as I did—but I remember him.
I was there. In that car. The one that hit him when he jumped in to protect a dog... no, her dog. Yui Yuigahama. I remember it clearly. I even took the time to look into the girl afterward, because forgetting that incident felt like an even worse crime than the silence I kept about it.
I never looked at him. I never said sorry.
It will be difficult to face him now. But lies have a way of hiding everything—even the things buried deep beneath everything else.
"Hmm?"
I looked up, sensing someone entering the room.
It was Hiratsuka-sensei... and—who?
That wasn't him. At least, not the person I remembered.
The boy walking behind her had auburn hair and golden eyes. His features were striking—handsome enough to resemble a model. Just that alone raised questions. Could this really be the same person Hiratsuka-sensei had described? The same loner with the sullen personality and unapproachable aura?
Nothing about him matched what I had been told.
"Hiratsuka-sensei, I believe I asked you to knock before entering."
"Even when I bother to knock, you never care to answer," she replied casually, like she always had a reason tucked under her sleeve for her behavior.
"That's because you always barge in before I even have the chance to respond," I countered, because her reasoning was, at best, illogical.
I shifted my gaze toward the boy behind her.
"And… who is this person?" I asked. Something about him felt off. Like he wasn't the same person who was supposed to be in this room.
"He said he wants to join your club," Hiratsuka-sensei answered.
The boy looked slightly taken aback, like this wasn't entirely his idea. His expression—mild confusion and reluctant compliance—gave it away.
"Ah, right. Hikigaya Emiya, Class 2-C," he said with a short nod.
"…?"
That name.
Hikigaya… Emiya?
Not Hikigaya Hachiman?
The question mark hung heavy in my mind, refusing to fade.
I wanted to ask, but I chose to keep it to myself—for now. I wanted to see what was really going on.
...
..
.....
After talking with him for a bit, I came to a simple conclusion.
He wasn't the person I thought he was. Not the one I had been told about. No… if anything, he might be in a worse state than Hikigaya Hachiman ever was.
Something felt off. My instincts were telling me this wasn't just someone with social issues. No, it felt heavier than that—like there was something else behind the way he spoke. A kind of guilt.
The things he said… the way he said them… it didn't sound like someone who just didn't want a friends. It felt like he is someone who carrying something—something that made even simple words feel like they had weight.
In fact, it is almost ridiculous.
He was like some overthinking final boss.
So I began to ask him about his past.
Each answer felt like a dodge—but not a lie. It was strange. As if everything he said was technically true, yet still managed to hide the most important parts. A way of speaking that left you with more questions than answers.
I glanced at the clock. It was about time for me to head home.
"I should be going," I said, because of course—my driver would be waiting by now.
I walked past him, casting a quiet, hidden glance in his direction, and made my way toward the door.
Then I stopped.
I turned my head slightly, just enough to see him from over my shoulder.
"Hikigaya," I said, voice low with hesitation. "I know this might sound strange, but… is there someone in your family named… Hikigaya Hachiman?"
He denied it. Plainly. Without pause.
"I see," I replied, almost to myself. Then I turned back around and walked out the door.
But even as I left, a single thought lingered in my mind—
What's really going on?