Chapter 045: If I Were in Class D!
"Class D still has a chance," Hachiman said.
Sakayanagi's eyebrow twitched slightly.
"But not through Ayanokouji." Hachiman straightened up from the tent support pillar, hands thrust into his pockets. "It's through Koenji."
Sakayanagi's brow furrowed slightly. "Koenji Rokusuke?"
"Yeah." Hachiman nodded. "His physical ability is the strongest in the entire grade. If he's willing to participate in the recommended events, Class D still has a chance to turn the tables. But the problem is—whether he's willing or not."
Sakayanagi was silent for a few seconds. "He isn't willing. He even forfeited the 100-meter dash."
"So," Hachiman looked at her, "Class D has no chance left."
Sakayanagi stared at him for a few seconds, then suddenly let out a soft laugh. The smile was faint, but her eyes curved into beautiful crescents.
"You knew it would turn out like this all along," Sakayanagi said. "From the moment you had Hirata test Ayanokouji, you knew it would end up this way. Internal friction in Class D, Ayanokouji isolated, Sudo withdrawn from the race. No one can save Class D."
Hachiman said nothing.
Sakayanagi withdrew her gaze, leaned on her cane, and turned to walk out of the tent. After two steps, she stopped without looking back.
"Hikigaya-kun," she said softly, "you really are terrifying."
Hachiman watched her back and said nothing.
Sakayanagi continued forward. The sound of her cane tapping the ground rhythmic and clear in the afternoon sun. Ichinose stood nearby, watching in that direction until Sakayanagi's figure disappeared into the crowd before looking away.
"Hikigaya-kun," Ichinose said, "Sakayanagi-san, she..."
"She was in a bad mood," Hachiman said. "Just looking for someone to talk to."
He turned around, walked back to his folding chair, sat down, and closed his eyes.
Ichinose Honami stood at the edge of the tent, looking toward where Sakayanagi had left, hesitating to look away.
She felt that Sakayanagi had actually come specifically to see Hachiman.
Ichinose turned this thought over and over in her mind. It wasn't to declare war, nor to scout for intel, nor to confirm the match results.
It was to see him. To see Hikigaya-kun.
Ichinose turned her head to look at Hachiman. He was leaning against the folding chair with his eyes closed and arms crossed, looking as if he were resting. But Ichinose noticed his eyelids were trembling slightly; he wasn't asleep. He was also thinking.
Ichinose looked away, lowered her head, and looked at the small notebook she carried with her. There was a bit of sand on the cover; she brushed it away gently with her finger, then flipped it open and wrote a line on a blank page—"Sakayanagi-san was here."
After writing it, she stared at the words for two seconds.
'Sakayanagi-san came specifically to see Hikigaya-kun.'
Why did she want to see him? Because she cared about him. Not the "rivals keeping an eye on each other" kind of caring, but something deeper, more personal—the kind of concern one has when wanting to confirm something.
Ichinose's fingers tightened slightly on the pen.
She knew Sakayanagi could also hear Hachiman's inner voice.
But. She had originally thought Sakayanagi eavesdropped on his heart just to beat him in the exams. Now she knew it wasn't just to win.
Sakayanagi Arisu, that proud young lady who never easily admitted defeat, had unknowingly grown fond of him through the process of listening to his inner thoughts.
Not because of how great he was, but because she saw things in his heart she had never seen in anyone else—his weakness, his escapism, his obsession with being a "full-time house husband," his attachment to Komachi, and his admiration for that girl named Yukinoshita.
Through those inner voices, she saw a different Hikigaya Hachiman.
And then, she couldn't let go.
Ichinose pursed her lips slightly.
One could say that Sakayanagi-san arrived a step too late. Hikigaya-kun was already dating Karuizawa-san. Although they called it "practice," Ichinose felt that Hachiman was a very responsible person; how could it be just simple practice?
If Sakayanagi-san had come a bit earlier, perhaps things would be different. But the word "perhaps" never holds any meaning.
Ichinose closed her notebook and placed it on her lap. She looked at Hachiman's profile; sunlight streamed in from outside the tent, falling on his face and making his silhouette
exceptionally clear. He had his eyes closed, and his breathing was steady as if he were truly asleep.
Ichinose's finger tapped gently on the cover of her notebook.
Sakayanagi-san cared about him deeply. What about herself?
Ichinose's finger stopped. She looked down at her hand on the cover. Those hands wore nothing; they were clean.
Did she care about Hachiman? Of course. He was her classmate, the class representative of Class A, and the person who led Class B up to Class A. She cared about his every move, every word he spoke, and everything he did. But was this concern the same as Sakayanagi's?
Ichinose didn't know. She didn't dare to think about it.
She suppressed those messy thoughts and reopened her notebook to the page recording the afternoon's events. The Scavenger Hunt, the Mixed Three-Legged Race, the All-Grade 1200m Relay. She remembered the rules, points, and participants for every event clearly, but she still read from the beginning, word by word.
Hachiman kept his eyes closed and said nothing. Ichinose sat beside him, quietly looking at her notebook. There was a small distance between them; neither leaned toward the other.
Outside the tent, the sun was bright. The Sports Festival continued.
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When Sakayanagi Arisu walked back to the Class B tent, the sound of her cane tapping the ground was a bit slower than when she left. It wasn't fatigue; she was thinking. She was thinking about what Hachiman had said—"Class D still has a chance. But not through Ayanokouji, it's through Koenji."
Koenji Rokusuke. The man who forfeited the 100-meter dash, the man who cared about nothing. Hikigaya-kun said if he were willing to participate in the recommended events, Class D would have a chance to turn things around. But Koenji wouldn't be willing.
Sakayanagi entered the tent. A few Class B students looked up at her, then lowered their heads to continue their own business. Sakayanagi walked to her seat and sat down, leaning her cane against the chair. She picked up the cup of black tea on the table, which had already gone cold, and took a small sip. The bitterness spread across her tongue; she frowned and set the cup down.
Kamuro Masumi walked over from the other side of the tent and sat beside her. Her hair was tied in a ponytail, and the three clips pinning her bangs glinted in the sun. Her face was expressionless, but her eyes remained fixed on Sakayanagi.
"Where did you go?" Kamuro asked.
"Class A," Sakayanagi's tone was flat.
Kamuro's brow twitched. "Class A? You went to find Hikigaya?"
"Mm."
"To do what?"
"To chat."
Kamuro looked at her, silent for two seconds. "Chat about what?"
"About whether Class D still has a chance." Sakayanagi leaned back, her gaze falling outside the tent. "He said Class D still has a chance, but not through Ayanokouji, but through Koenji."
Kamuro frowned. "Koenji? That guy who forfeited the 100-meter?"
"Mm."
"He won't participate. He was too lazy to even run the 100-meter, how could he possibly join the recommended events?" Kamuro said.
"So," Sakayanagi withdrew her gaze and looked at Kamuro, "Class D has no chance."
Kamuro stared at her for a few seconds. "You went all the way to Class A just to ask that?"
Sakayanagi did not answer.
Kamuro leaned against the back of her chair, arms crossed. "So what did you get out of it? Did he tell you the plan for Class D to win?"
"No."
"Then wasn't it a wasted trip?"
Sakayanagi shook her head. "Not exactly a wasted trip. At least I confirmed one thing."
"What thing?"
"Hikigaya-kun knows the solution for Class D to win. He knows Koenji is the key. But he won't say it, because he doesn't want Class D to win."
Kamuro was silent for a second. "Isn't that obvious? He's the class representative for Class A; why would he help Class D win?"
Sakayanagi looked at her, the corners of her mouth curling slightly.
"You certainly understand him well."
Kamuro's expression stiffened. "I'm just stating facts."
Sakayanagi didn't follow up. She picked up the cold black tea and took another sip. This time she didn't frown; she had likely grown used to the bitterness.
"You have a high opinion of him," Sakayanagi said, putting down the teacup.
Kamuro's fingers pinched her knee slightly.
"Isn't Ayanokouji's current struggle the result of his setup? You could say he orchestrated it precisely because he identified that Class D could turn things around," Kamuro's tone was calm. "In that light, isn't it normal to have a high opinion of him?"
"He directly eliminated the possibility of Class D winning. That is already a fact," Kamuro added.
Sakayanagi looked at her, silent for a few seconds. "True."
Kamuro turned her head away, no longer looking at her.
But Sakayanagi's finger tapped gently on the handle of her cane.
'Hikigaya Hachiman, just how many people have you caused to hold a 'high opinion' of you?'
She just didn't say it out loud. She only turned the thought over in her mind before suppressing it.
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On the other side of the tent, Shiraishi Asuka sat in a corner. Her long golden hair draped over her shoulders, and the small beauty mark under her eye was hard to see in the shadows. An unopened notebook lay before her; her fingers rested on the cover, motionless.
She had been in this position for a long time.
Ever since learning the news about Class D at noon, she had been like this. Sitting there, not speaking, not drinking water, not looking at her phone, doing nothing. Just sitting, head lowered.
She was thinking about Ayanokouji.
And now there was even more intel.
Namely.
"Ayanokouji can't even form a team for the Mixed Three-Legged Race. No girls are willing to team up with him; alone, he can't do anything."
Shiraishi was somewhat dazed.
Ayanokouji Kiyotaka—the man who, in her memory, always stood at the very front. In the White Room, he was the object everyone looked up to. Strongest physical ability, highest academic level, fastest reaction time, most accurate judgment. The instructors called him an unprecedented genius; children of the same generation saw him as the goal to chase.
He was the most perfect masterpiece of that institution, the crystallization of all of Ayanokouji Atsuomi's efforts. He graduated from there and entered this school with abilities far beyond anyone's reach.
He was a success, unlike her, who had been discarded.
To her, they were completely different people.
And then?
Shiraishi looked down at her hands.
And then, he was set up by a boy with dead-fish eyes, tested by a saint-like class rep, told publicly by a gyaru that she would vote to expel him, brushed off by an injured girl saying "I sprained my ankle," and threatened by a man he couldn't see through at all.
All his plans failed, every step he took was blocked by someone, and now he couldn't even find a partner for a three-legged race.
Shiraishi closed her eyes.
It shouldn't be like this.
It really shouldn't be like this.
Ayanokouji Kiyotaka shouldn't be limited to only this level.
He could be stronger; he should be stronger.
Any one of the things he learned in the White Room—physical ability, tactics, psychological manipulation, intel analysis—was enough for him to walk through this school unchallenged. But he didn't use them. Not because he couldn't, but because he didn't want to. Or was he waiting?
Shiraishi opened her eyes. She remembered what Sakayanagi had said—"If Ayanokouji-kun were really as strong as you say, he wouldn't let himself fall into his current situation."
Though she didn't want to admit it... Sakayanagi was right.
If he were truly that strong, he wouldn't have let Hikigaya Hachiman predict and counter every move. So the problem wasn't that he wasn't strong enough, it was that he didn't use those abilities in the right places. He wanted to hide his strength, to explode at the most critical moment, to use a brilliant victory to recover from all setbacks. But he forgot that while he was hiding his strength, others had already blocked off all his paths.
Shiraishi's hand slowly relaxed on the cover.
The Masterpiece. She recited those words in her heart, then let out a soft sigh.
The Masterpiece wasn't as powerful as she had imagined. Or rather, he was powerful, but not invincible. The word "invincible" didn't apply in this school. Because there would always be someone waiting for you to show a flaw, then delivering a fatal blow. That person wasn't Ayanokouji Kiyotaka; it was Hikigaya Hachiman.
Shiraishi withdrew her gaze and looked down at her hands on the cover. She suddenly remembered something. Before the Sports Festival started, Sakayanagi had asked her—"You seem very wary of Ayanokouji-kun." She hadn't answered then. Now she knew the answer. It wasn't wariness; it was fear.
But it wasn't fear of his strength; it was fear that the person she believed to be omnipotent was actually not so omnipotent.
Fear that her faith was wrong from the very root.
"Shiraishi-san."
Sakayanagi's voice came from the side. Shiraishi looked up and met those violet-blue eyes.
"Are you alright?" Sakayanagi asked.
Shiraishi was silent for a second. "I'm okay."
Sakayanagi looked at her but didn't press further. She just sat quietly, picked up the cold black tea, and took another sip. Shiraishi also lowered her head, looking back at her hands on the notebook cover.
Outside the tent, the referee's whistle blew. The afternoon matches were about to begin.
Shiraishi closed her notebook and took a deep breath.
Regardless of whether Ayanokouji was the person she imagined, the Sports Festival had to continue.
Right now, she was a student of Class B, and her task was to help Class B maintain second place and not be overtaken by Class C. Other things could wait. She stood up, tucked her notebook under her arm, and walked out of the tent. Sunlight fell upon her, her long golden hair swaying gently in the wind.
Sakayanagi watched her back and said nothing. Kamuro stood nearby, also looking in that direction.
"Shiraishi-san is a bit off today," Kamuro lowered her voice and whispered to Sakayanagi Arisu.
"Mm." Sakayanagi just nodded and said softly, "She needs a little time."
"Time?" Kamuro didn't quite understand.
"Time to accept reality," Sakayanagi continued. "Time to accept the fact that the object of her faith has lost."
'Ugh.'
Kamuro glanced at her but didn't ask further.
After all, having a classmate who was some kind of White Room student was something she herself found hard to accept and needed time for.
And so.
Kamuro turned around, walked back to her seat, picked up her water bottle, unscrewed the cap, and took a sip.
Sakayanagi sat in the folding chair, her hand resting on her cane. She was thinking about what Hachiman had just said. If Class D truly had no chance, then Class B's goal was simple—maintain second place and don't let Class C overtake them. As for first place, that belonged to Class A. To Hikigaya Hachiman's Class A.
This had already been decided from the moment Katsuragi-kun completely rejected her proposal and chose to play it safe.
What a pity.
Thinking this, Sakayanagi withdrew her gaze, leaned against the back of her chair, and closed her eyes.
The afternoon matches were about to begin.
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