“I’m saying, haven’t you guys fallen into some misconception?” Watching Yukinoshita drag Yuigahama through endless reflection—using the ultimate decisive weapon, the digital scale, to get the ratio precise to the gram—Hikigaya finally couldn’t help but speak up.
“Why do cookies have to be delicious?”
The room fell silent.
“Is Hikki an idiot?” Yui Yuigahama stood with her hands on her hips, looking righteous and confident.
“How can you give cookies to someone if they don’t taste good?”
“Completely different from your bitchy appearance,” Hikigaya said flatly, “your brain doesn’t seem to understand the creature known as ‘man’ at all, does it?”
“Who’s a bitch!” Yui’s face flushed.
“I told you not to call me a bitch.”
“Anyway, Bitch, you don’t understand men at all.”
“What can I do?” Yui pouted, looking angry, but her voice was very soft—almost a mumble.
She seemed to want to defend herself but felt it was too embarrassing.
“I’ve never dated a boyfriend.”
Of course not, Hikigaya thought.
The pure ones never have.
“Whatever state Yuigahama-san’s lower body is in is fine—” Yukino began.
“That’s not something to say about a lady!”
“—but Hikigaya, what do you mean?” Yukino seemed to have grasped a thread but didn’t understand it at all.
Unexpected, Hikigaya noted.
The perfect superman Yukinoshita would also have things she doesn’t understand.
But her complete blankness in the field of love fit her character setting quite well.
The term Yukinoshita and the term love had absolutely no correlation.
Some people were born for academics, he thought.
Others were born for…
whatever this was.
Yukinoshita was born to win arguments, not hearts.
Can’t help them.
Have to tell a more convincing story.
“Let me tell you a story.” Hikigaya leaned back, adopting the pose of a seasoned raconteur.
“In middle school, I had a friend.”
“Here it comes,” Yukino murmured.
“At that time, I had just started the second year of middle school. The class had to elect a male and female class monitor. No boys were willing to do it, so they finally decided by drawing lots.” He paused dramatically.
“My friend had very bad luck and happened to be chosen. For an introverted, shy, and timid boy, this was undoubtedly an extremely heavy burden.”
“…Aren’t there too many modifiers? Can you make it short?”
“Shut up and listen to me.” Hikigaya waved a hand.
“At that time, there was another girl in the class who volunteered to be the female class monitor after my friend became the monitor, and—”
“Hachiman.” Yuzuru’s voice cut through the narrative like a knife.
“Is this ‘friend’ you’re talking about actually yourself?”
Damn it.
“I heard from Teacher Hiratsuka,” Yuzuru continued innocently, “that if a person starts a story with ‘my friend,’ then that friend is himself.”
“I see.” Yukino Yukinoshita saw through everything directly—her eyes gleaming with the satisfaction of a detective cracking the case.
“So you self-indulgently thought you were liked by someone, and in the end, you were severely embarrassed, right?”
“Why are you so sure the protagonist is me?”
“Need you ask?” Yukino’s smile was razor-thin.
“Hikigaya-kun has no friends at all. Your first friend is Yuzuru, isn’t it?”
…That was brutal.
Even for her.
But not inaccurate.
I see, Himeragi Yukina thought, listening to everyone’s words.
The Fourth Progenitor is immortal.
Has no vampire kin.
Does not seek to rule.
Alone commands the twelve Familiar Beasts that are the incarnations of disaster.
A cold, ruthless, and absolutely solitary vampire.
So that terrifying rumor…
was it actually just the fact that Senpai has no friends at all?
He is truly…
Yukina felt something in her chest tighten.
Living such a miserable life and yet not going crazy and destroying the world, she thought, one has to say that Senpai is also a moving figure. This chapter was copied from novelping(.)com without permission.
…A moving, pathetic, strangely endearing figure.
“So I understand that Hikigaya-kun is a self-indulgent man.” Yukino folded her arms.
“But what does this story actually express?”
“That is to say—” Hikigaya held up a finger, “—men are self-indulgent creatures. Just receiving something like handmade cookies is enough.”
He looked at Yui.
“Even if they are terrible cookies, it doesn’t matter. On the contrary, if the cookies are too delicious, they might be suspected of being bought.”
“I see.” Yuzuru nodded sagely.
“Is this what is called male masochism?”
“It’s not masochism—”
“In my impression,” Hikigaya said, narrowing his eyes, “Yuzuru isn’t such a sharp-tongued child, right? Who did you learn it from?”
“Of course.” Yuzuru pointed.
“From Master Yukinoshita.”
Master Yukinoshita, Hikigaya repeated in his head.
She called her Master Yukinoshita.
…I’m not even going to ask.
Yukino Yukinoshita didn’t remember teaching Kaguya—Yuzuru—such things.
But thinking about it, leading by example might also be a part of education.
For Yuzuru, who had just been born into this world of social interactions, it seemed she was easily influenced by the outside world.
Unfortunately, Hikigaya thought, she picked the worst possible role model.
In terms of social skills, Yukinoshita was barely one step above a feral cat.
“In short.” He stood up, brushing off his pants.
“You just need to properly convey your feelings to the other person. As long as he is a man, he will be swayed.”
“Will Hikki be swayed too?”
“He won’t.”
“Why?” Yui tilted her head.
“Aren’t you a man?”
I am not human, Hikigaya didn’t say out loud.
After all, the ambiguity of saying it aloud was too great.
And here, Yuigahama was probably the only one who didn’t know he was a vampire.
There was always a feeling of excluding her, he realized.
Everyone had a common secret, but only Yuigahama had nothing.
…That felt wrong.
But he didn’t know how to fix it.
“Hachiman.” Yuzuru’s voice echoed in Hikigaya’s ears, soft and close.
“Ah, open your mouth.”
“Ah—”
Before he had time to think about why he should open his mouth—why was his body reacting on its own?—a baked cookie was put into his mouth.
Chew.
The taste?
It tasted a bit bad, he thought.
Crumbly.
A little too dry.
The sweetness was uneven.
But it was also unusually delicious.
“It was made specially for Hachiman.” Yuzuru smiled—that radiant, angelic, completely disarming smile.
“So Hachiman must finish it.”
So, Hikigaya thought, chewing, facing the kindness of a Spirit best friend…
A vampire will also be swayed.
…Damn it.
The angel was too powerful.
“Then, Yuigahama-san.” Yukino turned to Yui.
“Do you still need to stay and refine your cooking skills?”
Yuigahama looked at Hikigaya—who was eating the cookies with what could charitably be called a blissful expression—and shook her head.
“Probably not.” She smiled—small, genuine, a little sad.
“Thank you, Yukinoshita-san. I will solve the rest in my own way.”
“No need.” Yui picked up her bag.
“I know what level I’m at.”
She said goodbye to everyone and left alone—her footsteps echoing down the hallway, fading into nothing.
Yukino watched her go, somewhat puzzled.
But in any case, Hikigaya thought, this Service Club activity seemed to be quite successful.
It would probably become the best memory of Hikigaya’s life in the cooking classroom.
…Which wasn’t saying much, he admitted, but still.
However, there was one thing Hikigaya was quite concerned about.
The Spirit named Kurumi Tokisaki had been repelled by Himeragi—impressively repelled, with a spear and everything—but that feeling of being secretly watched did not completely disappear.
He always felt like he was being targeted by a very troublesome person.
There was no evidence.
Just a hunch.
And Hachiman Hikigaya’s hunches, he had learned, were rarely wrong.
“Himeragi.” He kept his voice low.
“Do you feel any suspicious people around?”
“Suspicious people?” Yukina blinked.
“Like that peeper Kurumi.” He gestured vaguely.
“Weird people. Or non-human things like shikigami.”
Himeragi Yukina concentrated—her brow furrowing, her eyes taking on that subtle glow of Spirit Vision.
She sensed carefully.
She scanned the room, the hallway, the shadows.
Finally, she shook her head.
“My Spirit Vision didn’t see any suspicious traces.” She sounded almost apologetic.
“Perhaps my anti-reconnaissance ability isn’t professional enough. I didn’t detect any aura of cursed power or magic power.”
“I see.” Hikigaya nodded slowly.
“No supernatural intervention.”
Then what was it?
He looked around the classroom—at the mixing bowls, the leftover flour, the cooling rack of cookies.
At Yuzuru sneaking another piece.
At Kaguya wiping down the counter.
At Yukino organizing the utensils with military precision.
And then he looked up.
At the corner of the ceiling.
At the surveillance camera installed by the school.
Perhaps, he thought, it wasn’t something supernatural.
Perhaps it was something more mundane.
More technological.
More…
human.
The classroom had a surveillance camera installed.
Generally speaking, no one would watch the monitor.
It was there for security—for after-hours break-ins, for liability, for the illusion of safety.
But generally speaking, Hikigaya thought, was not always.
Sometimes, his instincts whispered, someone was watching.
Right now.
In real time.
At him.
Hikigaya silently raised his head—his small dead-fish eyes meeting the unblinking lens of the camera.
And then he let them change.
His scarlet pupils bloomed—crimson and gold, ancient and hungry, the eyes of the Fourth Progenitor staring through the screen and into whoever was on the other side.
He revealed a provocative smile.
And slowly, deliberately, he formed the words with his mouth.
Found you.
Somewhere in Chiba, in a room filled with monitors and shadows, a figure froze.
He knew.
The Fourth Progenitor knew.
…This just got a lot more interesting.