There is something wrong with Hikigaya’s classroom of the Elite, as expected

Chapter 4: No Expectations, No Disappointments

“What a disgusting feeling!”

Suddenly, Hikigaya inexplicably felt a chill down his spine. Following his instincts, he glanced toward the last row near the window, where a poker-faced boy sat. Their eyes met briefly before quickly shifting away, like a fleeting exchange of glances between strangers.

What a disgusting feeling… and extremely dangerous!

For a moment, Hikigaya had the eerie illusion of being prey.

This poker-faced boy was dangerous!

It wasn’t just Hikigaya’s instincts warning him—it was because he had felt this same kind of gaze from someone before.

As a loner, Hikigaya was highly sensitive to the “gazes” around him. He deeply understood and had personally experienced the complexities and dangers of human interactions. His dead fish eyes allowed him to see through most people’s true nature, a skill he had named “Human Observation A.”

This poker-faced boy was observing.

He was watching the other students in class.

His gaze was cold and emotionless, like that of a hunter assessing the value of his prey—examining whether they were useful, like mere objects.

“What a troublesome guy,” Hikigaya muttered to himself, then scoffed, “But what does that have to do with an outcast like me, at the bottom of the food chain?”

If human society had a food chain, most ordinary people would belong to the middle tier—they needed to conform, form groups, and move forward together. The poker-faced boy, however, was undoubtedly at the top, just like Hayama and Haruno—born predators.

As for people like himself or Zaimokuza, they were at the bottom—producers, or perhaps just anomalies.

Hikigaya understood this well: his world and the world of others were like water and oil, unable to mix. More precisely, no one wanted to associate with an “anomaly,” unless they were willing to be labeled one as well.

“Everyone, please listen to me for a moment.”

While the class was still buzzing with excitement over the 100,000 yen announcement, a model student stepped onto the podium. Despite all eyes on him, he showed no signs of nervousness. Instead, he wore a bright, sunshine-like smile as he introduced himself.

His name was Hirata Yousuke. He spoke about how they would be together for the next three years and should all become friends, trying to unite the still-disorganized class through self-introductions.

It took a lot of courage and confidence to do this. Clearly, Hirata had experience—he had probably done something similar in middle school. Hikigaya knew he himself could never pull this off.

Hirata Yousuke—this guy also reminded Hikigaya of another popular internet term: “a warm-hearted guy.”

Like a central heating system, Hirata’s warmth effortlessly lifted the classroom atmosphere. He was naturally likable, and many students—especially the girls—were already drawn to him. Saying they had hearts in their eyes might be an exaggeration, but it wasn’t far off.

The first person to speak in a chaotic environment often gains the most attention. Unintentionally, Hirata had already established himself as a leader.

With his courage, sunny smile, love for soccer, and—most importantly—his handsome face, Hirata had the perfect “popular guy” package.

For teenage girls, this was an overwhelming presence.

Unfortunately, this reminded Hikigaya of a certain someone he found incredibly annoying—someone who was gentle to everyone, never rejected anyone, and was therefore insufferable.

With Hirata’s “Don’t force yourself; it’s okay” encouragement, the students began introducing themselves.

First was a strong-willed blonde gyaru, though she seemed a bit weak beneath her tough exterior. Then, several girls around her introduced themselves, already forming a small clique.

Next was a vain, muscular, blond narcissist, holding a mirror and occasionally throwing out weird English phrases.

Then came a short-tempered red-haired delinquent and two monkey-like idiots. One of them, Yamauchi Haruki, boasted about his past athletic achievements, claiming he was once a ping-pong prodigy with “Zero Serve” and “Curve Serve” techniques. He also said he was a dual-threat ace pitcher in middle school, able to throw 152 km/h fastballs, and that the LA Dodgers had their eyes on him—though he was currently recovering from an injury.

An awkward silence filled the room.

Hikigaya didn’t even know where to begin criticizing him. Others had similarly weird expressions, while Yamauchi, oblivious to reality, was busy basking in his own self-satisfaction.

“Alright, my turn next!”

A cute, energetic short-haired blonde girl stood up cheerfully.

Her name was Kushida Kikyo. She said she had no friends after entering high school and wanted to become friends with everyone! “Ehehe!”

With her adorable face, curvy figure, soft, sweet voice, and a smile like candy, she easily won over the class. She even shared her contact info, welcoming both boys and girls to befriend her.

Undoubtedly, after Hirata, Kushida Kikyo became another popular figure in class. Most of the boys were already completely captivated by her.

Like Hirata, she was overwhelming for these love-starved teenage boys.

After all, what kind of guy doesn’t like a sweet, gentle girl?

That’s a lie.

Hikigaya thought to himself.

If reality is cruel, then kindness is just a well-crafted lie.

Because kindness is nothing more than a social tool.

Especially for this “I want to be friends with everyone” blonde girl. At first, she seemed genuinely cheerful and innocent, but the more Hikigaya observed her, the more he sensed something off—something insincere.

What kind of lie was hiding behind that mask of kindness?

As the forty self-introductions neared the end, it was time for the poker-faced boy who had unsettled Hikigaya.

“Uh… I’m Ayanokoji Kiyotaka. I don’t really have any particular strengths… Uh… I’ll work hard with everyone. Please take care of me.”

His introduction was simple, awkward, and unremarkable. In fact, people forgot about him almost instantly.

This was completely different from the impression Hikigaya had formed of him.

Had he been overthinking things?

Then came the black-haired ice queen—Horikita Suzune.

“Horikita Suzune. Please take care of me.”

Her introduction was as cold as her personality. She gave off an unapproachable aura, and everyone could tell she was hard to get along with.

Even Hirata’s warmth couldn’t melt her icy demeanor.

Hirata, still smiling, turned his mom-like gaze toward Hikigaya.

“…”

Damn! Why is it my turn now?!

Hikigaya hated self-introductions.

It wasn’t just because of two traumatic past experiences—it was because the current atmosphere made it impossible to refuse without being seen as anti-social.

The air reeked of “Do it, or you won’t fit in.”

Like the shy girl from earlier or the socially anxious ostrich-girl next to him, others who weren’t good at speaking had all been forced to introduce themselves.

Self-introductions had unknowingly turned into a tool for establishing class hierarchy.

People like Hirata and Kushida naturally took the top spots. The majority floated in the middle, forgettable.

And then there were people like Hikigaya—bottom-tier offerings, meant to be mocked and looked down on.

He wasn’t omniscient, but he had enough self-awareness.

That’s why he hated this ignorance.

Even knowing all this, his body still stood up.

Deep down, despite all the bad memories, despite swearing never to compromise, a tiny part of him still hoped for a fresh start.

How pathetic.

Taking a deep breath, he forced a friendly expression.

“Hello, everyone. I’m Hikigaya…”

“Hello? Hello! Ahem… All first-year students, please pay attention. The entrance ceremony is about to begin. Please gather at the first gymnasium on the west side of the school within fifteen minutes.”

“Repeating once more…”

The sudden announcement quickly caught everyone’s attention. It was repeated three times, and footsteps from other students could be heard echoing in the hallway. Inside the classroom, students also began heading toward the gymnasium one after another.

As for Hikigaya—sorry, who is Hikigaya again?

His “seatmate,” the ice-cold girl who had managed to avoid an awkward situation earlier—why was she looking at him with such a pitying gaze?!

Sensing Hikigaya’s stare, Horikita remained as cold and indifferent as ever. Without looking back, she left the classroom.

W-Was he just… ignored?!

Yosuke Hirata, ever the warmhearted, all-inclusive central heating system, looked at Hikigaya with an apologetic expression. The kind and handsome “warm guy” sincerely apologized, saying it was his oversight for not paying attention to the time for the entrance ceremony, which led to this incident.

“It’s fine,” Hikigaya said with a blank expression.

…Yeah, right!

He should have known better than to have any expectations from the start!

No expectations, no disappointment. No bonds, no pain!

Hikigaya, you’re such a clown!