After school.
As promised, Hikigaya found himself in the library of the special building that afternoon.
The sunlight filtering through the windows gave the place a lazy, cozy vibe — the kind that made studying while snacking feel almost like an "enjoyable learning experience."
"'I fear that I was not born to be the man of talent people call me, and that I am too pretentious to be a man of mediocrity'… I don't think I really understand this line from Sangetsuki," said Airi Sakura, her soft voice fading as she gazed out the window.
"Sangetsuki (The Moon over the Mountain) is a short story by Atsushi Nakajima, adapted from an old Chinese tale — The Story of a Man Who Became a Tiger," Hikigaya began, earnestly explaining the story's meaning.
"The protagonist is a talented Scolar of Yor named Zhou Mingrui…"
"Hmm, I feel like I've heard that story somewhere when I was little," Haruka Hasebe said lazily, resting her cheek on one hand while idly twirling a pen.
"Don't make random associations," Hikigaya said flatly.
"Ow!"
Hikigaya flicked her forehead and reached out to confiscate the pen.
"Okay, okay! Geez, Teacher Hachiman is so strict."
Hasebe pouted, rubbing her forehead in mock pain.
"That line comes from Zhou Mingrui's inner monologue after he turns into a tiger," Hikigaya continued. "'I was afraid I was not a genius, so I didn't dare dedicate myself to study. Yet I half-believed I was a man of talent, so I couldn't simply mingle with the common folk and be content with mediocrity.'"
He leaned back slightly, analyzing the passage with deliberate care.
"It reveals Zhou Mingrui's inner conflict — and honestly, it mirrors the struggles of a lot of people in real life."
"So in the end, he was trapped by his own pride," he went on. "Afraid that if he worked hard and still failed, it would prove he was ordinary."
"Yet deep down, his arrogance made him feel special — that he shouldn't be dragged down by worldly concerns, refusing to believe that the people he looked down on could surpass him through sheer effort."
Hikigaya's calm, methodical breakdown of the text earned a few nods of genuine understanding.
"I see… so that's what Zhou Mingrui
was thinking…"
"I understand now!" Sakura's eyes brightened with realization.
"Good. Let's take a short break and— huh?"
Hikigaya's words trailed off as something blocked his vision.
"Thank you for your hard work, Teacher~"
"This should hit the spot — just like a pudding parfait!"
Haruka grinned mischievously.
Before Hikigaya could react, she pushed a spoonful of pudding right up to his mouth. Then, with another spoon, she scooped some for Airi sitting beside her.
"Zhou Mingrui's friend understood him, and saw the pain deep in his heart…"
Lost in thought about the story, Sakura instinctively opened her mouth and accepted the pudding.
"Eh?"
She froze after swallowing — then turned her head toward Hikigaya, her face slowly heating to a bright shade of red.
Hikigaya coughed awkwardly, averting his gaze as if to say, "This wasn't my doing!"
"No need to be shy, Airi!"
"W–Wait, is this the legendary indirect—"
"Indirect kiss!"
Haruka clasped her hands dramatically, grinning from ear to ear.
"H–Haruka!"
Sakura, face fully crimson, grabbed the spoon from Haruka's hand, scooped up a huge mouthful of pudding, and stuffed it straight into her mouth.
"Wah— mmph, gulp! …Hey!"
"Airi, I was helping you! Why are you targeting me?!"
Now it was Haruka's turn to blush like an apple, her legs kicking under the table in flustered embarrassment.
"Th–That kind of thing… is still too early for me!" Sakura stammered.
"Oh really? Someone more experienced would've just taken Hachiman's hand and guided it straight to their mouth~" Haruka teased mercilessly.
"Stop that!"
"Don't teach Sakura your weird habits!" Hikigaya said, breaking into a cold sweat.
Seriously… what kind of girl thinks like this?
Before anyone noticed, the tutoring session had stretched an extra hour past schedule.
***
Clubroom
"Phew, I'm beat… Hey, Hachiman, wanna practice some serves with me?" Haruka asked between breaths.
"Sorry, my reflexes are kind of slow when it comes to balls," Hikigaya said with complete seriousness.
"Ha! Excuses, excuses, coward!" she laughed, grabbing a volleyball.
"Heads up!"
He barely managed to catch it.
Except… it wasn't a ball. It was a towel — warm, slightly damp, and carrying a very personal scent.
"Hehe~ Got you there!" Haruka stuck out her tongue. "That'll teach you to let your guard down!"
Hikigaya brushed it off, pretending not to care.
Well… it's not like he disliked it.
In fact, if this were certain online communities, people would probably pay for it.
Just kidding. Probably.
He folded the towel neatly into a square.
"Fine, fine. I'll be your practice partner."
Haruka's eyes sparkled with excitement.
***
A bit later…
"Maybe we should find someone else. You already look exhausted," Hikigaya sighed.
"Heh-heh! You're so cruel, Hachiman! How could you bully a poor, delicate girl like me?"
Who are you calling "delicate"?
"Alright, alright. I give up. Just— get Ibuki to be your partner instead, please."
Honestly, Mio Ibuki, who acted like one of the guys, sounded far easier to deal with right now.
"Oof— ouch—!"
"See? I told you not to overdo it. I can't believe you managed to knock yourself out. I'm impressed," Hikigaya said flatly, looking down at her collapsed on the floor.
"I–I'm fine… I can still go!" Haruka protested weakly.
"Just stay down. You're done for the day."
With a sigh, he half-carried her back toward the dorms, supporting her shoulder.
"You're actually kinda strong, Hachiman…"
"Mm. Now shut up and rest."
"Hey— wait! Are you calling me heavy?!"
After dropping both girls off, Hikigaya even gave Haruka a light massage to ease her muscles — otherwise she'd be sore all over tomorrow.
By the time he returned to his own room, the sun had already set.
"So… why did I see you coming down from the girls' dormitory?" Suzune Horikita asked, arms crossed.
"Ah~ Don't sweat the details," Hikigaya waved it off. "Anyway, I'm starving. Got any food?"
Horikita frowned but decided to let it go.
After all, he was helping her by tutoring the class's problem children.
"I made extra beef curry tonight," she said, placing two lunch boxes on the table.
"Nice. Let's eat!"
Hikigaya immediately dug in.
"Don't eat so fast. It's bad for your digestion," Horikita scolded lightly.
"Thanks. But seriously, Horikita — your cooking's amazing!"
"Hmph. Of course it is," she replied proudly. "My family's in the food business."
"Oh, like… a restaurant?"
"No. We're a food supplier."
"Ah. So it's… that kind of thing."
This guy knows nothing!
In the world of high-end cuisine, a food supplier wasn't just about money — it was about connections, exclusivity, and influence.
Get appointed by a major distributor, and you're basically set for life.
"That's quite the background," Hikigaya mused. "No wonder you know martial arts."
He remembered that alley incident — she had serious reflexes.
"Martial arts are just for self-defense," Horikita replied calmly. "People in high society generally follow the rules."
"Your brother didn't seem too 'rule-abiding' when he kicked me," Hikigaya muttered.
"T–That was an exception!" she said quickly, flustered. "Didn't I make it up to you later? With medicine and a massage?"
And 1.5 million points, to be exact.
That was the real compensation.
After dinner, Hikigaya leaned back, content, while Horikita had already finished two chapters of math problems.
"There's still time. How about one more set of questions?"
"Are you a demon?!"
"Fine, fine! I really appreciate it, okay?!" Hikigaya groaned, collapsing onto his bed.
His phone buzzed.
"Who's messaging this late…" he mumbled, picking it up. He was ready to respond with one of his holy trinity of excuses — "I'm taking a bath," "I'm going to sleep," or "Good night."
[Kikyō Kushida]: Hikigaya, about tomorrow's P.E. class… what do you think we should do about swimsuits?
"P.E. class? Swimming?! Since when was that announced?!"
Hikigaya bolted upright, opened the muted class group chat —
and sure enough, there it was.
***
Author's Note:
Chapters 59–60 cover a full day in Hikigaya's school life.
We won't detail every single day — otherwise, it'd turn into a diary.