After leaving Chiba and reaching Tokyo, Hikigaya soon found himself seated on the bus headed for Advanced Nurturing High School. The bus was fairly crowded, filled with high school students wearing the same uniform as him, a few office workers with tired, frustrated expressions, and some elderly passengers. In other words, it had been an uneventful ride so far. Thankfully, he had at least managed to find himself a seat.
As his gaze drifted up from the novel he was reading, Hikigaya noticed a frail elderly woman standing nearby, looking visibly uncomfortable. It didn't take long for him to realize something was about to happen. The people around her avoided making eye contact, pretending not to see her—each one silently hoping someone else would step in and do something about this.
It's not that they don't care—it's fear that keeps them frozen. The fear of looking awkward or drawing attention. Of stepping forward first and risking judgment. In society, judgment doesn't just exist—it dominates, shaping every move. It's the thread that holds everything together.
"Excuse me, but shouldn't you offer your seat to this elderly lady?" And there it was—someone finally made a move.
Hikigaya's eyes shifted to a girl around his age addressing a well-built, blond high school boy seated in one of the priority seats. Standing beside her was another woman, likely an office worker, watching the exchange with mild interest.
"Hey, you there. Can't you see that this elderly woman is having trouble?" the office lady said. She seemed to want the young man offer his own seat to her.
"That's a really crazy question, lady. Why should I offer up my seat? There's no reason for me to do so." The boy replied as he grinned broadly and replied with haughty tone.
"You're sitting in a priority seat. It's natural to offer up those seats to the elderly." As she argued back.
"I don't understand. Priority seats are just that: priority seats. I have no legal obligation to move. Since I'm currently occupying this seat, I should be the one who determines whether or not I move. Am I supposed to give up my seat just because I'm young? Ha! That reasoning is nonsense."
At that moment, Hikigaya quietly closed his book with a soft snap, his eyes narrowing slightly.
He's not wrong completely. In fact he's logically sound. Priority doesn't mean obligation. It just implies that ideally you do the "right thing". But the world doesn't run on pure logic. It runs on perception and in society, perception is everything and the moment he refused to stand. He has already been labelled as the bad guy. All it take is one moment of non-compliance to paint you in the negative light forever.
"Wh-what kind of attitude is that to take with your superiors?" she demanded.
"Superiors? Well, it's obvious that both you and the old woman there been alive longer than I have. There can be no doubt about that. However, the word 'superior' implies that you're referring to someone of a higher position. In addition, we have another problem. Even though our ages are different, wouldn't you agree that you have an impertinent attitude and are being extremely rude?"
"Wha— You're a high schooler, aren't you?! You should be quiet and listen to what adults tell you!"
The office worker was clearly upset, while the elderly woman tried to calm her down with gentle hand gestures. Despite this, the office worker kept insulting the high school student, her anger building with every moment.
Hikigaya let out a tiny sigh. He didn't care about the seat. He didn't care about the social pressure. But… there was something annoying about how the situation was handled. Everyone had been waiting for someone else to act, too afraid to get involved. And now that someone finally did, the weight of collective morality was dumped on this blonde guy.
"This is painfully hilarious—watching grown-ups argue over a seat like it's some kind of prized possession. Not one of them willing to step back."
With a subtle glance to the side, Hikigaya activated his most trusted skill—Stealth Hikki, one of his 108 loner abilities. While everyone's attention was fixed on the heated argument and the strikingly beautiful high school girl standing nearby, he seized the moment to slip out of his seat. Moving without a sound, he stood up, blending effortlessly into the background. No rustling, no eye contact, no sudden movements—just a quiet, seamless retreat, like mist dissolving into the air.
He quietly made his way to the back of the bus, settling against one of the rails. With his usual understated presence, Hikigaya blended effortlessly into the background, observing the unfolding drama from a comfortable distance.
The elderly woman received unexpected support from a girl standing nearby, dressed in the same high school uniform. With a cheerful yet composed tone, the girl interrupted and addressed the crowd again, her voice carrying a sense of gentle urgency.
"Excuse me, everyone. Could I have your attention for a moment? Would anyone be willing to give up their seat for this woman? It doesn't matter who—please."
"Uh… excuse me," a passenger murmured, uncertainty lacing their tone. "There's an empty seat over there. I think someone just left it."
The crowd exchanged puzzled glances, astonished that no one seemed to notice anyone leaving the seat. However, the subtle departure hadn't gone unnoticed by a few pairs of eyes in the crowd.
The girl offered a warm thank you before guiding the elderly woman to the now-vacant seat, effectively bringing an end to the entire spectacle.
Hikigaya stayed silent. He didn't raise a hand or claim any credit. To him, it wasn't about being noble or seeking gratitude.
He simply had no interest in getting caught up in a morality drama so early in the morning.
And with that, Hikigaya shifted his focus back to his book, letting the words absorb him as the bus rattled forward, the world outside blurring into motionless noise.
As Hikigaya got off the bus, he saw a gate made of natural rock standing just ahead. Students in school uniforms were walking through it, chatting and laughing as they went.
Not long after, he sensed a familiar presence beside him.
The blond-haired guy was there again, casually running a hand through his perfectly styled hair, wearing that same smug expression. A smirk tugged at his lips as he turned slightly toward Hikigaya.
With a voice full of arrogance, he said,
"Ah, now that I can actually see your face in proper light… you really do have a curious pair of eyes, Ghost-boy. Haunting, in a way like you've already lost to life itself."
He stood there for a moment, genuinely baffled "Okay wow. That's one hell of a thing to say to a complete stranger. was that a compliment? or an insult ?
Before Hikigaya could muster a response, the blond-haired boy had already vanished into the school gate, leaving behind only the echo of his words and the faint trace of his arrogant smirk.
Hikigaya scratched his head and glanced around "And here I thought I was the socially weird one and things couldn't get any more stranger. Turns out there are people even more bizarre than I imagined—especially that guy."
Soon, he crossed through the school gate, briefly catching sight of two people locked in an argument over something trivial. Paying them no mind, he continued on his way, fading into the school grounds and heading straight toward whatever strange nonsense awaited him next.