Coach, She Charged with the Ball!

The afternoon had finally arrived, marking the moment when the student council would announce the members of the new committee. Despite his intense reluctance to face the outcome, Hachiman Hikigaya knew that this decision would greatly impact his future at school. With a heavy heart and a reluctance that bordered on dread, he dragged his feet toward the notice board where the final results would be displayed.

Why on earth did someone like me even get involved in the student council?

I've never once participated in any club activities in my entire life!

To be honest, my idea of an ideal club activity is watching a group of girls play in a band, or cheering on a team in a martial arts competition through anime.

Damn it! People always say you only start living like a corporate drone after graduation, so why am I already being pushed in that direction before I've even finished school?

As expected, the words of adults are just as twisted, hypocritical, and full of lies as youth itself.

Hachiman sighed deeply as he stepped out of the classroom, mentally preparing himself for the short walk to the student council's announcement board. But before he could take his first step, an unexpected figure appeared before him—

Standing there was Kushida, who had left the classroom ahead of him to hang out with her friends. She was leaning casually against the wall as if waiting for someone.

"Finally, you're out, Hikigaya-kun."

Hachiman had never once imagined that Kushida's waiting had anything to do with him. But the moment he heard her speak, his eyes widened in shock.

What the heck?! A terrifying monster is waiting for me!?

Could this day be my final one on earth?!

Hikigaya struggled to suppress the rising tide of fear within him, forcing himself to take deep breaths in an attempt to regain some semblance of calm. His mind raced, trying to maintain a steady grip on his emotions. It was only through sheer willpower that he managed to settle his nerves.

Just then, without him noticing her approach, Kikyo Kushida appeared before him, her face adorned with the same gentle smile she always wore, as if nothing in the world could ever trouble her.

"Surprised to see me, Hikigaya-kun?" she asked, her tone sweet and disarming. "I've been waiting for you... There's something I'd like to discuss. May I have a moment of your time?"

She added a shy, almost bashful posture to her words, enhancing the effect.

Most boys, when confronted with a beautiful girl saying something like that, would naturally assume it was some sort of confession.

But Hikigaya was not like most boys.

He was far too rational—some might even say unnervingly so. The idea that someone as enigmatic as Kushida could harbor any romantic interest in him was absurd. If anything, the chances of Suzune Horikita confessing to him were higher—and that, too, was a terrifying thought.

With a sigh of resignation, Hikigaya responded, knowing there was no easy escape.

"What is it you need?"

Despite his fervent wish to vanish like a ninja using a substitution jutsu or shadow clone technique, Hikigaya had no such skills. All he could do was brace himself and endure the piercing gaze of Kushida.

Kushida, though slightly taken aback by his guarded tone, pressed on with her inquiry.

"I'll get straight to the point, then. Hikigaya-kun, have you ever seen Horikita-san smile?"

"Smile?" Hikigaya's mind flashed back to the few instances he'd witnessed Horikita's cold, blade-like smirk, often directed at him in moments of sadistic satisfaction. The memory sent a shiver down his spine.

Before he could fully process this, Kushida leaned in closer, her posture shifting to one of intimate proximity, closing the distance between them with a deliberate, almost predatory grace.

Too close! This is way too close!

His mind screamed warnings, the alarms blaring in his head, like a coach blowing a whistle for a foul. She's crashing into me with all the force of a charging player!

The rising panic within him threatened to boil over as if a kettle were on the verge of exploding.

"I want to be friends with Horikita-san," Kushida murmured, her voice soft as she almost nestled against him, her eyes upturned in an imploring gaze.

"But I can't do it alone. Could you help me, Hikigaya-san?"

Hikigaya couldn't believe his ears. This had to be some sort of nightmare. The request was beyond unreasonable—it was like asking a powerless civilian to broker peace between Saitama and Boros.

You've got to be kidding me. Can't you weirdos settle your disputes without dragging in a background character like me?

The very thought of getting involved in whatever twisted game Kushida and Horikita were playing filled him with dread. He instinctively recoiled from the idea.

"I don't have much of a connection with Horikita," Hikigaya replied, grasping for any excuse to avoid the impending disaster. "I don't think I'd be of much help."

"Oh, but even so, with you on my side, it would feel like having the strength of thirty people!" Kushida's bright demeanor never faltered.

Wow, she's laying it on thick.

Hikigaya couldn't help but feel a grudging admiration for Kushida's performance. Despite knowing better, her act was so flawless that he almost believed in the sincerity of her character. Almost. The more she radiated cheerfulness, the deeper his fear of her grew.

Resolute for perhaps the first time in his life, Hikigaya steeled himself. "Sorry, but I can't do that."

"Really...?" Kushida's expression shifted to one of exaggerated disappointment.

Even with the power of the 'cute + pleading + upturned gaze' combo, she couldn't sway him!

Hikigaya's heart hardened like stone, so much so that it surprised even him.

"I see... I'm sorry for bothering you, Hikigaya-kun." With a dramatic sigh, Kushida turned away, her face a mask of sorrow.

It was a performance that would have moved most people to rush forward and offer their help. But Hikigaya, ever observant, saw through the cracks in her carefully crafted facade. Despite her nearly flawless portrayal, one critical detail betrayed her—her expression.

People might control their body language and actions with meticulous precision, but few could completely mask their true emotions. Even the most skilled actors can falter when their expressions don't match the part. It's like wearing a clown mask—no matter how well it fits, it can't hide the underlying falseness, and instead, it evokes a sense of unease, much like the uncanny valley effect.

Or, to put it another way, she was like Ayanokoji...

Hikigaya mused, sighing at the thought. The number of oddballs in Class D was staggering, both in quantity and in quality, rivaling that of some Gotham City rogue gallery.

Even if Saitama-sensei and Batman teamed up, there was no guarantee they could handle all these freaks.

With a final sigh, Hikigaya turned and walked away from the classroom, heading slowly toward the student council bulletin board.