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

Chapter 66: The Flaw of Horikita Suzune, the Girl

The next day at school, as soon as Hachiman entered the classroom, he was immediately met with someone’s deathly stare.

For the entire morning, Hachiman was continuously scrutinized by his desk partner, the girl, until lunchtime, when he finally managed to escape.

Hachiman didn’t go to the cafeteria but instead headed to a remote garden courtyard. There were almost no students in sight here, making it a perfect spot for someone with social anxiety like Hachiman. It was a hidden gem he had stumbled upon, also known as the “Lone Paradise.”

After opening the curry fried noodles bread he had barely managed to buy from the convenience store, Hachiman enjoyed his peaceful, solitary lunch break.

“Finally found you!”

A breathless voice interrupted his peaceful break.

“H-Horikita’s sister?!”

Hachiman, who had been eating the bread, was startled by the sudden appearance of the girl, nearly choking on it. Luckily, he managed to save himself by quickly drinking some mineral water.

“How did you find this place?!” Hachiman asked, his face flushed, eyes wide.

“For a student who has no friends and can only eat alone, it’s an easy process of elimination,” Horikita replied expressionlessly but then hesitated and added, “And… please don’t call me ‘Horikita’s sister.'”

“Uh… but you are Horikita’s sister, right? I can’t just keep calling you ‘Horikita’ in front of your brother, can I? Who exactly am I calling out?” Hachiman retorted with a look of disbelief.

Although Hachiman could call Horikita “President” based on his position, calling this girl in front of him “Horikita” felt somewhat out of place, like a temporal disorientation. Just like how he addresses Yukino as “Yukinoshita” and Haruno as “Haruno” but wouldn’t call Haruno “Yukinoshita” in front of Yukino. However, that doesn’t mean Hachiman and Haruno were closer than Yukino.

So, calling her Suzune felt just too weird. Just imagining the scenario in his mind made Hachiman shudder. If he said it, he might just be frozen by the ice princess in front of him!

“Never mind! I’m here to talk to you about something!”

Was it just his imagination, or did Horikita sound a little happy?

“I’ll repay the favor for my brother from last night,” Horikita said seriously.

“Uh… What difference does that make?” Hachiman asked.

“The difference is that the trouble I caused, I will solve myself!” Horikita replied.

“Does your brother know about this decision?” Hachiman asked.

“… I will explain it to him properly. I can’t cause any trouble for my brother!” Horikita said, her voice quiet but firm.

Hachiman sighed dramatically. This sibling relationship was really too awkward! It made him appreciate his relationship with Komachi even more. He could never imagine being in such a painful situation with her.

“From what happened last night, this will only disappoint your brother even more,” Hachiman bluntly pointed out, exposing Horikita’s shallow justification. She was clearly just lying to herself.

Before Horikita could respond, Hachiman continued, “Although I don’t like meddling in other people’s business, I’ll say it anyway: Horikita, do you perhaps misunderstand something?”

“Wh… What do you mean?” she asked, confused.

“It might be inappropriate for me to say this as an outsider, but it’s obvious that you’re just someone’s shadow right now. You only see that narrow, shadowy world and take it as the entirety of reality. As for the world outside the shadow, the road ahead—you have no understanding of it,” Hachiman said seriously, staring at the ice-cold girl in front of him.

For a moment, it almost felt like he was looking at someone else, someone from his past. The pursuit of someone’s shadow—how similar that was.

Life is always chasing after illusions, but the one who sees the illusion as reality falls into an endless abyss of suffering.

Whether it’s Horikita now, or someone else from the past, both had taken someone’s back as the guiding light.

“You’re just a frog in a well,” Hachiman said, his tone unexpectedly harsh.

Normally, Hachiman wouldn’t speak this way, but seeing Horikita’s flaws, he couldn’t help himself, just like last night when he interfered unnecessarily.

Hachiman couldn’t stop himself from mocking his own actions. What a disgusting sense of self-righteousness. No wonder people hated him—his dead-fish eyes seemed to reflect his inner bitterness.

“You! Who do you think you are?! Don’t meddle in other people’s business! And are you lecturing me?” Horikita’s expression darkened as she coldly retorted.

As expected, Horikita lashed out at him, her words full of anger, which Hachiman had already anticipated. After all, this was the consequence of his “big mouth.”

“See? That’s the flaw of Horikita Suzune. The flaws of someone who seems perfect on the surface—the arrogance of looking down on others from a high place, assuming others are burdens, rejecting closeness, and even pushing people away. Isn’t that what got you stuck in class D?” Hachiman shot back, speaking frankly.

‘Wait… Is this about me?’ Hachiman thought, momentarily feeling guilty. It must be a misperception!

From his disdain for Sudo at the convenience store at the start of the term, to ignoring and rejecting others’ suggestions, as well as mocking Sudo in the library yesterday, Hachiman had noticed Horikita’s most glaring flaw.

“Are you saying that I’m on the same level as Sudo? That guy sleeps in class, is always late, acts impulsively without thinking about the consequences, and has the worst grades. He’s the real burden in class D. He’s responsible for at least 20% of the class’s problems,” Horikita said, her voice growing colder, clearly angry.

Hachiman didn’t deny that; it was something Horikita and most people thought.

But…

“I don’t deny it, but do you see the problem here?” Hachiman sighed. “Having pride and arrogance isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but if you’re not careful, your arrogance can blind you.”

At this point, Hachiman suddenly thought of a certain silver-haired loli.

“You should already realize that the class division in this school isn’t based on academic performance. Otherwise, people like Hirata, Yukimura, Koenji, and you, Horikita, would never have ended up in class D. Remember what Chabashira-sensei said when school started? The school measures students based on ‘ability.’ What does ‘ability’ mean? I think you should think about that carefully.”

“Everyone has their flaws and strengths. If you only see one side, you’ll lose the ability to fairly assess that person,” Hachiman continued, his tone turning serious.

“I hate people like Yamauchi, Ike, and the explosive kid, but even they have undiscovered strengths and possibilities, even if I still don’t like them.”

“Let’s get back to the core issue… Why did the school create the class points system and promotion mechanism? Have you really thought about its essence? If you only see the idea of discarding the ‘burden,’ one day, you too will be discarded as a burden,” Hachiman said, his voice low but filled with conviction.

Hachiman knew human nature too well—people tend to see only the good in those they like and only the flaws in those they don’t. He was a living example of that.

Self-reflection and self-awareness are the motivations for maintaining clear judgment.

Even Hachiman himself couldn’t avoid falling into self-criticism at times.

Whether it was the once despised Hayama, Miura, or the so-called “chuunibyou” character Zamuizika, Hachiman would admit their strengths. His relationship with them wasn’t simple—he would dismiss them strategically but respect them tactically.

“You’re…”

Horikita seemed to be unable to take the barrage of words from Hachiman. She opened her mouth to retort, but no sound came out.

She suddenly recalled her recent confrontation with Chabashira-sensei in the teacher’s office, where the teacher had said something very similar: “There’s no rule that says students with high academic ability must be placed in an excellent class.”

“Besides, if you’re willing to help Yamauchi, Sudo, and the others—those clearly burdensome guys—rather than discard them, I think you’ve realized something. Helping them will bring you more benefits. Helping them is like helping yourself. It’s an exchange of interests,” Hachiman added.

A warm breeze blew through, but Horikita felt a slight chill, a strange sensation creeping over her. This guy had analyzed her to such a degree?

And Hachiman’s words made her recall her conversation with Ayanokouji, who had also told her something similar, urging her to help Yamauchi, Sudo, and the others, for her own benefit.

But unlike Ayanokouji, Hachiman’s words were far more direct—almost exposing the “reality of relationships” piece by piece in front of her.

Horikita looked at Hachiman, feeling as if she was being pierced through by his cold gaze.

“Who are you, really?” she asked instinctively.

“Huh?” Hachiman glanced at her, surprised by her sudden question.

Did it mean something?

Hachiman was silent for a moment before replying cautiously, “Just an ordinary student passing by?”

When Horikita heard that, a surge of anger rose within her. She almost felt like he was looking down on her. Her eyes seemed to burn with fury.

“You!” she shouted.

She took a deep breath to suppress her anger, then forced herself to calm down. “Anyway, I’ll repay the favor for my brother. And I don’t need anyone meddling in my affairs!”

Hachiman couldn’t help but smile bitterly. Horikita really was stubborn.

But that aloof attitude, refusing to go with the flow, was also one of the reasons he found her interesting.

Just…

“However, Horikita, sometimes, aloofness and loneliness are not the same thing.”

Hachiman felt a strange sense of nostalgia, remembering a time when he was like her—proud, unwilling to accept help, always seeing himself as ‘mature’ and ‘understanding human nature,’ when in fact, he was just trying to fill the huge gap between himself and reality.

But after that night on the bridge with Shizuka-sensei, he realized the truth too late—he was just a lonely person now.

Perhaps it was for this ridiculous reason that Hachiman felt compelled to speak so much to Horikita.

“You’re really terrible,” he muttered to himself.

“By the way, here’s some advice for you: this midterm isn’t just about individual grades. It’s a matter for the whole class.”

Hachiman seemed to remember something suddenly.

After the school had revealed the truth and the class competition system was set up, it became clear that they needed to shift from individual thinking to collective thinking.

From Hachiman’s perspective, only Hirata had realized this so far. Most others seemed stuck in the misconception of “just pass individually.” This was a very dangerous mindset.

With that, Hachiman didn’t wait for a response from Horikita, who seemed frustrated. He simply turned and left without another word.