Despite the façade of equality, the truth was clear—this school operated on a strict hierarchy. Class competition was more than just a motivational tool; it was a system hardwired into the very infrastructure of the institution.
From day one, every class received different treatment. Class A, at the top, was composed of students with outstanding academic, athletic, and social skills. They were the elites. The farther you went down the alphabet, the lower the expectations and the more disposable the students became.
By the time graduation came around, the students of Class A would represent the school with pride. It was rare—almost unheard of—for a lower class to rise and usurp that position. Class D, by contrast, was where they dumped the troublemakers, the quiet ones, the damaged ones. The so-called failures.
That was the truth behind this "equal opportunity" school.
And it was that truth Chabashira Sae had considered revealing to Hikigaya, even at personal cost. But now, as she studied him, she realized there was no need.
He had already begun to see it.
He had the clarity to notice her private points balance. He wasn't dazzled by the free tuition or the generous stipends. He'd looked through the glitter and understood the simplest truth of all—there is no such thing as a free lunch.
Maybe, just maybe, Hiratsuka Shizuka had handed her something valuable.
"Your question carries a high cost," Chabashira said at last. "So I'm afraid I have no comment."
Hikigaya gave a flat, noncommittal nod. "Oh."
"Don't sound so defeated," she added, something playful flickering in her tone. "Let's make a deal. I can help you obtain the right to convert your points into cash early."
He lifted his gaze, slightly startled. "What does Chabashira-sensei want in return?"
He wasn't naive. That much was clear.
His student ID still displayed the default balance—100,000 points. A significant amount, yes, but not enough to purchase real influence. Especially in a system that likely wouldn't sustain such generosity long-term.
There were 40 students per class. Four classes per grade. That's 160 students per year. Multiply that by the monthly stipend and then add upperclassmen to the equation... It was an outrageous financial model.
A lie.
A trap.
And Chabashira knew it.
"The school isn't as kind as it seems," she said bluntly. "They don't hand out money without expecting something in return."
"Then what do you want me to do?" he asked.
She met his eyes.
"As your homeroom teacher, I don't know everything about your classmates. Help me investigate a few of them. Compile personal files. For each file you deliver, I'll credit your account with 200,000 points."
She paused, let that number hang in the air.
"Don't refuse. You won't find another teacher in this place who's willing to hand out money like I am."
That meant one thing: whatever came next wouldn't be so forgiving.
The school wasn't a playground. It was a crucible.
After accepting the assignment, Hikigaya made his way back to the classroom. But when he stepped inside, he found the room almost completely empty—only two or three students remained.
The others had already moved on.
Figures.
While he'd been pulled aside by Chabashira and led to the rooftop for their private conversation, the rest of the class had gotten their textbooks and left for the dorms or the campus shopping district to test out their newfound purchasing power.
Social groups were forming.
He was already being left behind.
"Hikigaya-san."
The voice came from the front of the room.
Yōsuke Hirata, the handsome boy who had first introduced himself so cheerfully, turned toward him with a gentle smile.
"Our classmates already picked up their textbooks and returned to the dorms. Some of them went to the shopping district to see if the points could really be used."
"I saved your books for you. Glad you made it back in time."
Then he stood, dusted off his pants, and added, "Someone else brought my books back to my room, but I can help carry yours if you want."
He smiled again.
"Oh, and we made a class group chat. Want me to add you?"
"It's good for announcements. Also, for asking questions and helping each other."
He hesitated for a second, then added, "I mean, not that I think you can't handle yourself. It's just… your introduction got cut off earlier. Felt like I should at least do something."
Hikigaya blinked.
What was this?
What kind of angel just... shows up and offers help like that?
He'd pegged Hirata from the start as the "everyone's best friend" type. Someone who thrived in social situations. But this—this was genuine.
He wasn't just good at looking nice. He was kind.
"I'll add you now," Hirata said, pulling out his phone.
Before he could finish, several notifications popped up on his screen.
Messages. Lots of them.
"Sorry—give me a second," Hirata said, fingers flying across the screen. "Everyone's asking about something. Looks like a few people ran into trouble already."
He typed out replies quickly and efficiently.
So he was that guy. The one everyone turned to when things went south. The class problem-solver. The firefighter who put out every little blaze.
Maybe even... a male mom.
That was a dangerous amount of responsibility for one high schooler to carry.
Hikigaya didn't say it out loud, but a quiet admiration formed somewhere deep inside him.
This school was going to get a lot harder.
But at least he knew not everyone in Class D was a lost cause.
***
That being said, this book has 4+ rating out of 160+ reviews, and I can already see why it's getting this much attention, so if you see it too? Leave a comment.