Chapter 158: She Is Indeed the True Heroine of the CotEL World!
At the same time, the students of Class C were reveling in the final moments of their "free-loading" spree. They held a celebration banquet, setting the venue in the buffet restaurant on the second deck of the ship.
Calling it a celebration was a bit of a stretch—they had finished the exam with positive points, and everyone had received over 100,000 points, but it was a "better than some, worse than others" situation. However, Ryuen had declared that since it was the last night and the school was footing the bill, they might as well eat their fill. Thus, forty people surged into the restaurant, completely occupying the long tables by the windows.
The air was thick with the heat of fried chicken and fries, mixed with the fizzing sound of carbonated bubbles from Cola and Sprite. There was no alcohol, but the atmosphere was rowdier than if there were. Several boys stood by the buffet counter competing to stack plates; when the stack reached the sixth layer, it collapsed with a crash, the sound of porcelain hitting the table drawing a burst of laughter.
Ishizaki Daichi squeezed through the crowd carrying two plates of food, nearly tripping over someone's foot. He steadied himself with a curse, clutching the plates a bit tighter to his chest.
Ryuen Kakeru sat in the center of the long table, legs still propped up, holding a half-finished can of Cola. He suddenly sneezed—without warning—causing a few drops of soda to splash onto the back of his hand.
"Who the hell is talking about me?" He wiped the liquid off with his thumb, his tone annoyed but his lips curled in a smirk. He leaned back, his gaze scanning the chaotic mess of his classmates, before suddenly raising his voice: "Listen up, all of you!"
The restaurant fell silent for a moment as everyone looked at him.
Ryuen held up the soda can like it was a grand trophy. "Next semester, the goal is Class B. We're going to knock those guys from the original Class A down."
After a brief silence, the crowd erupted in cheers. Some banged on tables, some whistled, and others raised their cans shouting "Knock them down!" Ishizaki yelled the loudest, his voice drowning out everyone else's until Kaneda Satoru pulled his sleeve to get him to tone it down.
Ryuen retracted his gaze with satisfaction, leaned back again, and drained the can in one go.
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At the other end of the long table, the atmosphere was much quieter.
Shiina Hiyori sat by the window, a glass of nearly untouched orange juice in front of her. She hadn't brought a book, which was rare—whether in the classroom or on the ship, Hiyori was usually never without one. But now she just sat quietly, her long silver hair draped over her shoulders, exuding her natural "literary girl" aura. Her gaze drifted over the scene in the restaurant, the shifting shadows and the clatter of dishes.
Ibuki Mio sat beside her, stabbing at a cherry tomato in her fruit salad with a fork. She glanced at Hiyori several times before finally speaking up. "Don't like this atmosphere?"
Hiyori turned her head and looked at her, her eyes remarkably calm.
"No," Hiyori shook her head slightly, her lips curving into a soft smile. "I think it's quite nice."
She meant it. This noisy, mindless occasion was good to participate in once in a while. Everyone was laughing and playing; no one needed her to analyze anything or deduce a strategy. It was just... her thoughts kept drifting elsewhere.
Ibuki popped the tomato into her mouth, chewed, and looked at her again. "Then why are you frowning? What are you thinking about?"
Hiyori blinked, instinctively reaching up to touch the space between her brows. She hadn't even realized she was frowning.
"Next semester's exams," she whispered, as if to herself. "They will likely be quite difficult."
Ibuki's fork stopped mid-air.
Hiyori's gaze fell on the window. The reflections of her classmates blurred in her eyes, but that wasn't what she was seeing.
"The path of obtaining information from Hikigaya-kun is no longer viable," she said calmly. "He knows. Or rather, he knew from the beginning. Those previous things..." She paused. "He let us hear them on purpose. So, being able to hear his inner voice is no longer a trump card; if we trust that information too much, we'll be deceived instead.
It can only go this far."
Hearing this, Ibuki's mouth hung open slightly. She remembered Hiyori pulling her into the woods on the deserted island, whispering that secret to her. Back then, they thought it was an ace gifted by the heavens to Class C. The result? That card had been dealt by the opponent from the start.
To Hikigaya Hachiman, those were open cards!
"Furthermore," Hiyori continued, "Ayanokouji from Class D will likely start exerting himself."
Ibuki frowned. "That guy who uses 'honey traps'?"
"He won't use that anymore," Hiyori said with certainty. "Once such a method is exposed publicly, there's no point in using it. He will change his approach." She lowered her gaze.
"He will likely find a way regarding Koenji as well. So, next semester, perhaps Class D's Koenji will actually participate in the battle."
At the mention of Koenji, even Ibuki fell silent. Koenji made no effort to hide the fact that he was not just an oddball, but a monster. In terms of sheer brute force or athletic ability, even their own Albert probably couldn't keep up.
After a few seconds, Ibuki put her fork down. "Then do you think we can hold our current position?"
Hiyori didn't answer immediately. Her mind was on something else—over the last two days, the students of the original Class A had frequently appeared in the gym. Not just one or two, but in groups. Running, stretching, weight training; everyone had a look of seriousness that she couldn't quite decipher.
They definitely knew something. Perhaps Sakayanagi obtained information from the upperclassmen, or through some other channel. Whatever it was, that unified discipline made Hiyori feel a faint sense of unease.
"The original Class A," she finally said, her voice softer, "seems to be preparing something. They've started large-scale physical training. I suspect that will be their main battlefield."
"Their comprehensive strength was already the most outstanding, and now that they are training, our Class C will be even further behind," Hiyori analyzed.
Ibuki's frown deepened.
Hiyori retracted her gaze and looked down at her orange juice. The straw leaned against the rim, the liquid surface still, reflecting her blurred image.
"However, for Class C... it's not actually too pessimistic. The first semester is ending, but we..." Hiyori smiled slightly. "We've basically returned to the position Class C is supposed to be in.
But we started from 0 points to climb back up here."
As she said this, she herself froze for a moment.
'Returned to the position we should be in.'
Wasn't that Class C? The first month was 0 points, the second month was 100. All 350 points from the island test went to paying off debt. They finally earned a bit in the VIP test, but only just enough to stabilize. After a whole semester of struggling, they found they were still Class C.
It was indeed quite terrible. But in the next second, a thought flashed through her mind like lightning.
'If Class C was always meant to be in Class C, why did Hikigaya-kun work so hard to suppress them?'
Giving them 0 points in the first month was suppression. Burdening them with massive debt on the island was suppression. Inducing them to guess the "pattern" in the VIP test to make them lose points was still suppression.
If Class C truly wasn't worth noting, he wouldn't have needed to do any of that.
Hiyori tapped her finger lightly on the table. She suddenly understood something.
'He suppressed Class C because he felt Class C was dangerous. He felt Class C had the ability to catch up, which is why he had to keep them down. So, Class C's current situation of 'returning to where they should be' wasn't arranged by the school—it was manufactured by Hikigaya Hachiman.'
The more force he used to hold Class C down, the more it proved Class C had the potential to surge upward.
Hiyori's eyelashes fluttered. She lowered her eyes to her hands. They were very white, resting together like resting butterflies. But she suddenly felt something thumping in her chest. It wasn't excitement or agitation, but something quieter and more certain. Like someone groping in the dark who suddenly touched a wall—she didn't know what was on the other side, but at least she knew the wall was there.
Watching her, Ibuki felt Hiyori's expression change in that instant. Her eyes were brighter than before, and the curve of her lips was more genuine.
"Shiina?" she called tentatively.
Hiyori looked up and smiled at her. It was a light smile, like ripples on water.
"It's nothing." She picked up the orange juice and finally took a sip. The sweetness made her mood feel buoyant. Because she had realized what she had overlooked.
She added, "I was just thinking that Hikigaya-kun probably cares about Class C more than we imagined. And that is our potential.
It turns out our strength is actually this great. This is probably the best news I've received these past few days."
"Eh?" Ibuki blinked, not quite understanding.
But Hiyori didn't explain further. She sat there quietly, looking out the window. The reflections danced in her eyes, and her lips maintained that faint, thoughtful smile.
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Contrasted with the revelry of Class C, Hachiman felt the afternoon passed faster than expected.
He stuffed the last few items of clothing into his backpack, zipped it up, and stood to look around the dorm. The room he had stayed in for nearly two weeks was now spotless. The bedding on the bed was folded neatly, and nothing was left on the desk. Even the leaves of the green plant on the windowsill—left by who-knows-who—had been wiped, shining in the sunlight.
Kanzaki Ryuji stood by his own bed, holding his packed suitcase, looking at Hachiman's folded bedding with a subtle expression. The edges were sharp and square, as if measured with a ruler.
"Hikigaya-kun," Kanzaki chose his words carefully, "Are you always this... skilled at housework?"
Hachiman buckled his backpack and replied casually, "It's alright."
"That's beyond 'alright.'" Kanzaki walked to the window, pulled the curtains, and looked back at the bed. "I have servants at home for this. If I did it myself, it would only reach a level where you wouldn't laugh at me."
Hachiman put his backpack on the chair and turned to him. "It's a specialty. I've practiced this since I was a kid."
Kanzaki's expression became complex. He knew what "specialty" meant—not something learned in home economics or practiced last minute, but the basic skills of a man whose ultimate life goal was to be a "full-time house husband," polished day after day. Looking at the perfectly folded bedding, he felt both amused and impressed.
"To each their own," Kanzaki shook his head, moving on. He placed his suitcase against the wall and sat on the bed. "But honestly, I can't imagine what Class B would be like this semester without you."
"Class A has strength, that's undeniable. Class C has ambition, and even Class D... can't be completely ignored. Looking at it that way, our Class B might not have had many advantages," Kanzaki analyzed.
He was indeed good at analysis; in the original work, he was Ichinose's support, the vice-president, the second-in-command.
Hachiman paused his check of his backpack side-pockets. Kanzaki, however, was on a roll.
"The behavioral exam in the first month goes without saying, then the old-questions exam in the second month," Kanzaki recalled. "That method of using old questions... it really made one realize how different this school is from the outside world.
Then the island test, and now the VIP test. I still feel that being able to play an exam like that isn't something a normal person can do. Class A and Class C were led by the nose, Class D acted alongside you, and we in Class B didn't have to do anything—we just lay back and took the points."
Kanzaki's lips curled into a genuine smile of admiration.
"Hikigaya-kun, it's truly good to have you in Class B. If it were me... I don't think our class could have secured this much money to keep everyone at ease. We might have faced difficult choices regarding our classmates... though it hasn't happened yet, I feel it could have turned out that way."
Hachiman buckled the strap again, even though it was already tight. He didn't say much, just a soft "Yeah" in response. He wasn't a man of many words, and Kanzaki was also introverted. The room was quiet for a moment, but neither felt awkward.
Hachiman sat on the bed and pulled out his phone. No new messages. He put it back, but Kanzaki noticed.
"Waiting for a message?" Kanzaki asked curiously.
"No," Hachiman answered too quickly.
Kanzaki looked at him but didn't press. The smile remained, as if he had seen through something but was polite enough not to poke it.
Hachiman leaned against the wall, staring at the ceiling. Karuizawa said she would give him a reply this afternoon regarding a girl willing to cooperate with "lessons." He thought he'd hear by noon, but the phone remained silent.
Maybe she hasn't found a suitable candidate, he thought, sighing internally. It was expected. Who would take a job like this? Accompanying a guy who is bad with girls for "lessons" on how to date, then watching him use that experience to chase someone else. Just saying it out loud was embarrassing enough.
Just then, his phone vibrated.
Hachiman's reaction was surprisingly fast. He tapped the screen; Karuizawa's name popped up. The message was short, but he stared at those few lines for seconds to ensure he hadn't misread them.
[Karuizawa]: So, your requirement is just to gain experience interacting with girls so you can chase that Yukinoshita girl later, right?
Hachiman's finger hovered over the screen before typing:
[Hachiman]: Roughly like that.
The reply came instantly, as if she had been waiting.
[Karuizawa]: Then the person I found should meet your requirements. But she has a flaw—she also has no romantic experience, so she isn't very clear on how to interact with boys either...
Hachiman froze. A girl with no experience teaching him how to interact with girls? It sounded like two people who couldn't swim standing on the shore giving each other pointers. But on second thought, he wasn't looking for high-level techniques, just the ability to talk to a girl without the conversation dying or becoming awkward.
Maybe an "ordinary" person was better. After all, he felt Yukinoshita-san was on the same level as him—or worse—regarding romantic ineptitude. Even if she liked someone, she probably wouldn't be proactive. She might even struggle to realize the emotion.
Hachiman began typing.
[Hachiman]: I'm not boasting, but my way of thinking is quite far from ordinary people anyway. So... an ordinary person is probably fine.
Sent.
The other side was silent for a few seconds. Then an ellipsis appeared.
[Karuizawa]: ...Suddenly I feel your requirements aren't that high after all.
Hachiman's mouth twitched. He was about to ask "So is it Kushida?" but before he could finish, Karuizawa's next message popped up.
[Karuizawa]: I'll just be direct. If you genuinely feel unwilling, you can pretend you didn't hear this.
Hachiman stopped. He deleted his draft and sent a question mark.
The "typing" indicator flickered, stopped, then flickered again. It was as if she were hesitating, deleting, and retyping.
Finally, the message appeared:
[Karuizawa]: Do you want to go out with me?
Hachiman stared at the line for three seconds. His first reaction wasn't surprise or a racing heart, but—Did she send this to the wrong person? Just as the thought surfaced, a second message followed:
[Karuizawa]: I'm asking again: Do you want to go out with me?
The glow of the screen reflected on Hachiman's face. His expression didn't change, but his finger hovered over the screen, unable to descend.
A third message followed:
[Karuizawa]: First of all, you said you are a transmigrator, so you will leave sooner or later. If a girl truly takes a 'love lesson' with you, she loses out. After all, some people hope for a relationship that leads to marriage.
Hachiman's gaze paused on this line.
The fourth message arrived. It clearly wasn't edited in real-time; it was a prepared statement, cut and pasted.
[Karuizawa]: But you've already considered how to arrange things for me after you leave. I feel that after you leave, I'll have accepted a favor from you. I don't like owing people favors. Since you've already arranged my future, I feel I can meet your requirements by dating you, and I won't pester you. Isn't that it?
Hachiman read the messages from top to bottom.
The logic held up. It held up very well. So well that he couldn't find a flaw. He needed someone to teach him how to interact with girls, and any girl willing to take the job would either want his points or something else. Karuizawa wanted nothing—or rather, she wanted to "repay the favor." She treated it as a transaction to offset the future protection he would provide.
He leaned back, staring at the ceiling.
Kanzaki had finished packing and was flipping through a magazine. He noticed Hachiman's stillness, looked up, then looked back down without asking.
Hachiman looked at the screen again. Karuizawa's avatar sat quietly at the top of the chat. No new messages, no typing indicator. She was waiting for his reply.
His finger tapped twice on the screen, then he typed:
[Hachiman]: Are you sure?
The reply came faster than ever before.
[Karuizawa]: Yeah. You're definitely leaving eventually anyway. Just think of it as... preparing mentally for the farewell in advance?
Hachiman looked at those words, feeling an unidentifiable emotion. It wasn't "being moved" or "heart-fluttering," or the "tightening of the chest" written in novels. He just felt—This person has really thought this through.
She sent another:
[Karuizawa]: Besides, don't you want to learn how to get along with girls? Getting along seriously with one person is faster than finding people everywhere for 'lessons,' right?
Hachiman had to admit she had a point. When he asked Kushida or Karuizawa for help, he was essentially looking for a "teacher." But what one learns from a teacher versus what one learns from actually being with someone is likely different.
He took a deep breath and typed his reply:
[Hachiman]: Then let's try it.
The other side was silent for ten seconds. Then a short reply appeared:
[Karuizawa]: Okay.
Just that one word.
Hachiman stared at that "Okay" for a while, locked his phone, and put it in his pocket. He looked up to find Kanzaki watching him. The magazine was open on Kanzaki's lap, but his gaze was clearly elsewhere.
"What?" Hachiman asked.
Kanzaki shook his head and went back to his magazine. "Nothing. I just thought your expression just now was more serious than during the exams."
Hachiman didn't respond. He stood up, grabbed his backpack, and checked the zipper.
Outside, the sun was no longer piercing, beginning to slant westward and casting long shadows on the deck. In a few hours, the ship would dock, and everyone would return to the enclosed campus to face their altered reality.
Hachiman adjusted his straps and walked to the window, looking at the sea shimmering in the sunlight. The phone sat quietly in his pocket.
He suddenly remembered Karuizawa's line—"Just think of it as... preparing mentally for the farewell in advance?" She spoke as if he already had the resolve of a transmigrator, ready to turn and leave at any moment to return to his original world. But right now, he was still here, standing in this sun-warmed cabin, looking at the same sea, breathing the same salty air.
Hmph.
Hachiman had previously praised Shiina Hiyori as a special girl who, in the latest volumes of the original work, made the protagonist feel his first love.
But now, Hachiman felt that Karuizawa Kei was also a genuine person with the constitution, aura, and personality of a heroine.
Thinking this, Hachiman retracted his gaze, slung his bag over his shoulder, and walked toward the door.
"Let's go." He looked back at Kanzaki. "Time to gather."
Kanzaki closed the magazine, stood up, and followed him with his suitcase. They walked out of the dorm, their footsteps echoing in the corridor.
Hachiman walked ahead, his expression no different from usual. But his hand was in his pocket, his fingertips unconsciously touching the edge of his phone.
'Karuizawa said, you're definitely leaving eventually anyway. Just think of it as... preparing mentally for the farewell in advance?'
So, she had already made such a grim psychological preparation, and under such a premise, she was still willing to try dating him.
He silently repeated those words in his mind, then let out a soft breath.
'Then let's try it.'
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