Hikigaya made his way to the auditorium for entrance ceremony with no expectations. He had been in enough entrance ceremonies to know how this would go—overenthusiastic speeches about opportunity, success, and "building a future together" while students stood through the ordeal, waiting for the moment they were allowed to leave.
And, predictably, that's exactly what happened.
"We strive to cultivate individuals who will flourish in society," the chairman continued, his speech carrying on as Hikigaya listened.
Hikigaya exhaled slowly as he listened, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. 'Ah yes, another fine example of adults convincing themselves that their motivational speeches actually work.'
If anything, they should be motivating themselves to keep it under thirty minutes instead of dragging this out for so long pointlessly. Still, standing through this mind-numbing nonsense wasn't a big deal for him—after all, he had his prized 108 loner skills to rely on.
So, he activated one of them: Deep Contemplation Mode. A state where he sank so deeply into his thoughts that time slipped away unnoticed, reality faded into the background, and the world carried on without him—until he decides to come back.
It was a pretty amazing skill—one he had refined through years of solitude & loneliness. And honestly? At this point, he wasn't sure if it was a skill he had carefully honed or just another sad talent born from having too much free time in his hands all this time.
After enduring wave after wave of speeches drowning in corporate buzzwords—"limitless potential," "bright futures," "forge your own path,". it dragged on, stretching time to its limits. And then, finally, it was over.
Still, another thing that caught his eyes, among all this was the students standing in different class lines.
It was subtle, but he noticed something—how they stood, how they conducted themselves. Compared to his own class D and the one beside them probably class C, there was a visible difference in attention and discipline.
His classmates occasionally shifted or leaned back, whispering, checking their phones whenever they thought no one was looking. But the students in the other lines barely did any of that. Many of them stood still and orderly, looking like proper model students.
If he had to guess, these other classes were probably Section A and B of the first year.
Various thoughts surfaced in the back of Hikigaya's mind as he observed the differences. 'Could it be? Classes are probably divided based on students' ability—something similar to cram schools. Probably the best were placed in A, the second-tier students in B, and the average ones in C. That would make our Class D the bottom group, probably the leftovers?'
It wasn't a far-fetched idea for the country's top institution to have this kind of system. In fact, it made perfect sense to have this. Many cram schools and private academies followed similar structures—sorting students based on academic performance, discipline, and effort.
'If that's how it works, then yeah, I'm definitely not surprised that they put me in Class D. No doubt about it.'
Still, he wasn't completely convinced. As he looked at his other classmates not all of them were out of line.
'But then again... there are some decent people in Class D too,' he thought, remembering the brief introductions and glances he caught. Some students didn't exactly seem like delinquents or screw-ups. If anything, a few seemed even sharper or better in academics than the average honor students in other classes.
He frowned slightly, shifting his weight from one foot to another as the ceremony continued.
'If this school really sorted us purely by ability, then why do I feel like the system isn't as simple as it looks?'
Maybe there was more to this setup than he realized. Maybe the school wasn't just throwing students into classes randomly or even based on simple metrics like grades or Discipline.
Maybe, just maybe... There was some hidden criteria he hadn't figured out yet. Still, a tiny part of him couldn't shake off the feeling — the feeling that there was a design behind this. A pattern he hadn't seen yet.
He let the thought settle in the back of his mind for now, left unexamined.
Not that it mattered at the moment.
The ceremony was over, and with nothing else keeping him here, Hikigaya simply made his way out.
After the entrance ceremony, most students headed straight to their dormitories. Others gathered in groups, hanging out in cafés or heading off to karaoke.
Meanwhile, Hikigaya had far more serious concerns.
He moved across campus like a lone predator on a noble quest. Right now, there was only one thing on his mind.
MAX Coffee
After putting up with all the school's nonsense so far, a can of MAX Coffee was exactly what he needed. The sugar-packed drink was the perfect fix for his drained mind and body.
The very thought of it brought a faint twinkle to his tired, dead-fish eyes.
With steady focus, he followed the signs toward the vending machines near the main plaza. A few students lounged nearby, sipping juice or energy drinks, but Hikigaya had only one goal. He stepped forward, scanned the vending machine window, and then—
Silence.
A long, heavy silence.
His eyes darted back and forth. Once. Twice. A third time, just in case he was hallucinating. He crouched a little, pressed his face against the glass. But no matter how many times he searched, the reality remained the same.
There was no MAX Coffee.
"…No… way…" he muttered, his voice cracking ever so slightly.
His expression shifted into mild disbelief. He took a step back, staring at the machine like it had let him down in the worst possible way.
"This is blasphemy," he whispered under his breath. "Blasphemy of the highest order. A vending machine without MAX Coffee is like a shrine with no deity… a ramen shop without broth… a festival without street food."
As Hikigaya muttered to himself, his frustration only grew.
"What kind of place is this? They call themselves top-tier, yet they can't even stock a drink from the region just next to Tokyo? MAX Coffee is practically right there, and they still failed to include it?"
A wave of disappointment hit him. His already low expectations for the school somehow dropped even further. For a moment, he even considered dropping-out. Three years without his sister and MAX Coffee? That felt impossible to him now.
Just as he was about to make his final decision, a calm and polite voice spoke to him from behind.
"You seem troubled, Junior."
Hikigaya turned around.
Behind him stood a tall, composed boy with neatly parted dark hair and sharp eyes framed by rectangular glasses. His presence carried a quiet authority, the kind that made people instinctively straighten their backs and For some reason, Hikigaya felt like he had met someone like this before.
The uniform was the same, but on him, it looked sharper—almost like it was meant for someone important.
"Oh, uh..." Hikigaya blinked. "Is it that obvious?"
"I assume… it's not about grades or social status. You were disappointed by the vending machine, weren't you?"
Hikigaya blinked. "...How did you—?"
The boy pointed at the machine behind him. "You've been glaring at it like it personally insulted you. I've seen that look before."
Hikigaya looked back at the vending machine, then gave a theatrical sigh. "It's a grave injustice. I came here with hope—faint, fragile hope—that this place would understand the cultural and emotional significance of MAX Coffee. And now look."
He gestured dramatically toward the vending machine. "Look what they've done. It's not even here."
There was a brief silence. Then the boy said, as he recognized something, "Ah. MAX Coffee."
Hikigaya turned back to him, narrowing his eyes slightly. "Wait—you know about it?"
The boy adjusted his glasses. "I've done some research on what students from different regions tend to prefer. You're from Chiba, aren't you?"
"…Yeah." Hikigaya blinked. "So, you do understand."
"I don't dislike it," the boy replied, calm as ever. "Though I prefer traditional black coffee. But yes, it isn't included in every vending machine here. Only in a few selected ones."
Hikigaya's eyes widened. A flicker of hope surged back into his chest. "Wait—what did you just say?"
"There are special vending machines. Ones that carry less popular drinks. Since students here come from different regions, some niche items are stocked in specific places. You'll find one of those near the dormitory laundry room."
He paused, then added, "And that includes your beloved MAX Coffee."
Hikigaya's eyes widened. For the first time since entering the campus, his heart felt lighter.
"…You're telling me… it exists? It's here?"
"It is," the boy said with a slight nod. "Though not many buy it. That's why it's only in certain vending machines."
Hikigaya's voice lowered reverently. "I see. This school… maybe it isn't completely irredeemable after all."
Hikigaya felt a smile twitch at the corners of his mouth. It was rare, but genuine.
"Thank you, Noble-Stranger. For what it's worth, you may have just restored a tiny fragment of my faith in humanity."
The boy didn't react. He merely turned to press a button on the vending machine and retrieved a can of unsweetened black coffee.
"So," Hikigaya asked, almost hesitantly, though with a trace of hope in his voice, "you said you don't dislike it. Does that mean you like MAX Coffee too, Senpai?"
The boy paused. "I can tolerate it and have it occasionally. But still, I prefer coffee without sugar. MAX Coffee is… too sweet for my taste."
Hikigaya's heart sank just a little. "…Ah. I see."
So close. So very close to finding a fellow comrade.
"Still," he added, cracking the can open, "there's something to admire about how strongly you reacted. I suppose every student brings a bit of their hometown with them."
Hikigaya felt a slight twinge of embarrassment at his own dramatic reaction. Maybe he had been a little too caught up in the moment.
"Enjoy your drink then, Junior," he said, offering a slight nod before turning away. Without another word, he walked off. Hikigaya stayed still for a moment, watching him go before finally deciding to move on himself.
After receiving directions to the sacred MAX Coffee vending machine, Hikigaya spots a convenience store on his way back.
He decides to head inside, intending to check its supplies—and maybe pick up a few essentials while he's at it.
Still, it wasn't that he needed anything urgent it was purely curiosity.
Given how the school operated, with shopping districts and cafés, it felt necessary to understand how money was expected to be spent.
As he entered, his gaze immediately landed on a commotion near the entrance.
There stood the red-haired boy with an aggressive demeanor, arguing with three upperclassmen as they mocked him for being in Class D, calling him defective. Then they jokingly that he would see hell soon.
Hikigaya narrowed his eyes slightly.
'Defective, huh? Seems like my suspicion regarding class order might be correct. After all'.
It didn't sound like they were mocking his academic ability—no, there was something deeper behind their words. Especially the mention of hell at the end.
'Could they be referring to this 'hell' as some kind of punishment? Or maybe consequences tied to the points we received… or maybe even both.'
Hikigaya decided to leave those thoughts for later. For now, he would focus on what he came here for and began checking the products and their prices. But then, his eyes landed on an unusual sign in the corner of the store.
He glanced at the section labeled "free products," stocked with basic necessities. A sign beside them read: "Limited to three items per month."
Without hesitation, he decided to take some for himself as well.
As he approached it Hikigaya scanned them carefully, his mind already weaving possible explanations.
'A school handing out 100,000 points yet still offering free items? Feels contradictory.'
Were these intended for students who lost everything? Were they leftovers from unsold stock?
He noticed several senior students grabbing them, which only raised further questions.
'If upperclassmen are buying them too, then it's not just a system for reckless first-years. In that case it would only mean one thing.'
Suddenly, Hikigaya found himself imagining some of the worst possibilities, trying to piece together everything he had observed so far. But before he could go any further, he was interrupted by a boy who had suddenly decided to approach him.
"You're buying from the free section?"
Hikigaya looked up. Ayanokoji was standing beside him now, eyes as unreadable as ever.
"I'm taking from the free section," Hikigaya corrected. "There's a difference. One implies I'm giving something in return."
"But we all got 100K points, didn't we?" Ayanokoji questioned further. "Don't you want to try the higher-end stuff?"
Hikigaya rolled his eyes slightly as he replied, " That's how people waste their money—thinking that just because they have a lot now, they have to spend it all."
He paused briefly before continuing, "Besides, whether it's a premium brand or a cheap one, there doesn't seem to be much difference to me—as long as they're not harmful and they get the job done, it's all good for me."
"There, are you satisfied now?" Hikigaya let out a small sigh as he finished speaking.
Ayanokoji didn't immediately answer. His expression remained unreadable, neutral, as always.
"You're certainly one curious fellow, aren't you," Hikigaya said plainly. After a brief pause, he shot Ayanokoji a sidelong glance. "Are you sure you're not the one trying to prove something?"
Ayanokoji tilted his head slightly and asked, "Was I too direct in asking questions? Did that somehow offend you Hikigaya-san?"
Hikigaya gave a subtle shrug, as if brushing the question off. "Not really. I just find it interesting when someone I've barely talked to starts analysing my shopping habits. And you don't exactly look like a 'concerned classmate' to me."
"I'm not analysing anything. I'm just trying to understand the people I'll be spending time with."
"That sounds like a lot of effort," Hikigaya muttered. "Can't say I relate to that, I guess."
Ayanokoji continued as they started walking toward the counter. "So you're the type who doesn't like to be understood?"
"I'm the type who's used to people misunderstanding anyway. Saves me the trouble."
A brief silence followed as they continued walking side by side, keeping a bit of distance between them.
"You had a unique way of introducing yourself earlier," Ayanokoji continued, circling back without missing a beat.
Hikigaya blinked, not expecting the question related to introduction, but still responded "Did I?"
'Yo, Hikigaya Hachiman… and I exist.'" Ayanokoji quoted evenly. "Not the usual way to introduce yourself to a new class."
"It's enough," Hikigaya replied plainly. "A name and a confirmation of existence. Everything else is just social filler. Most people lie or exaggerate during introductions anyway. I'd rather keep things grounded."
"You didn't wanted to say more?"
"I didn't want to give people more than they needed," he said. "Let them build their own narrative. That way, they're only disappointed when they realize I'm not interesting, instead of feeling betrayed when I don't live up to their expectations."
"You think people expect things from you?"
"They expect something from everyone. Even silence gives people ideas."
Ayanokoji watched him for a moment. "So you prefer staying unreadable."
"I prefer staying quiet," Hikigaya said, placing the packet in his basket. "Whether people read into that or not is actually their problem."
And what about you?" Hikigaya asked, his tone laced with sarcasm as his gaze flicked toward the boy beside him. "You seem perfectly comfortable giving the bare minimum too. Just a typical normal guy, huh?"
"But I'm just an ordinary guy. I don't quite get what you meant just now," Ayanokoji replied, feigning ignorance with practiced ease.
Hikigaya let out a small sigh, his tone carrying a hint of finality as he wasn't in the mood to continue anyway. "Well, if you don't understand, then just leave it at that."
"Alright, I've got something to take care of. I'll be on my way then"," Hikigaya said, already turning to leave.
But before leaving he said one last thing.
"You're quite good at this, Ayanokoji," Hikigaya said. "Asking questions that seem simple but dig a little too deep… Makes you wonder if that's intentional or not."
Hikigaya let the conversation end there. Without another word, he turned and walked away.
He hadn't expected to respond, but curiosity got the better of him. He understood Ayanokoji a little more now—not much, but enough to know there was something hard to pin down. Like talking to a blank slate.
Without waiting for a reply, Hikigaya started toward the exit and leaving the store.
As Ayanokoji watched Hikigaya leave, various thoughts lingered in his mind. The conversation had been brief, but it left an impression.
"There is something deeply Strange about Hikigaya Hachiman."
His eyes don't look at people the way most do. They don't drift aimlessly or search for something. They're quiet—hollow, but not empty. Detached, yet always observant.
During the class introduction, Ayanokoji noticed it immediately. Most students looked eager, nervous, or indifferent. He looked… like he'd already seen what would happen. Like he'd been here before, even if it was his first day.
When he said "I exist," during the class Introduction. it wasn't a joke or a rude remark. It was an affirmation—bare minimum presence declared in front of people he clearly didn't intend to impress.
At first, when Ayanokoji met his dead-fish eyes, he felt a brief flicker of familiarity.
Someone with that kind of detached look might have come from the White Room.
But no… White Room students are shaped to win. Their detachment has purpose. Their silence isn't tired—it's calculated.
Hikigaya is different. His detachment feels more like a shield, something built after being let down too many times by people, expectations, and society.
Still, he helped that old lady on the bus this morning—quietly, without drawing attention to it. Not for recognition. Not for praise. Just because it was the right thing to do.
A White Room student doesn't help people unless it's strategic or give them some kind of advantage.
That contradiction stood out most of all. He presents himself as someone without purpose, yet acts with deliberate conviction when it matters. Not for show. Not for gain. Just because he feels it's right, even if he buries that under layers of apathy.
And with that, a strange sense of intrigue took shape in Ayanokoji's mind.
"Things might get a bit more interesting with someone like Hikigaya Hachiman around."