"Big bro, you're still sleeping?"
Half-asleep, Hikigaya Hachiman heard a very familiar voice next to his ear.
"I told you yesterday, exercise is important, but you don't have to push yourself so hard. If you overdo it, you won't be able to wake up the next morning."
Hikigaya Komachi, already dressed in her middle school uniform, stood next to her lazy older brother's bed, hands on her hips, sighing in frustration.
Actually, he wasn't a lazy bum anymore.
He was now the hero who had saved Shinjuku.
Ever since that battle, Hikigaya Hachiman had been working insanely hard. Komachi hadn't asked him about it in detail, but she had a rough idea of what had happened.
It probably wasn't anything good.
"If you don't get up now, you're gonna be late." Komachi leaned in and poked Hikigaya Hachiman's cheek with her slender finger. "Though honestly, even if you wake up now, you'll probably still be late."
Hikigaya Hachiman frowned at the poking and instinctively rolled over, wrapping himself in his blanket.
"Ugh…!"
A wave of soreness spread through his entire body, jolting him fully awake.
"Breakfast is ready. I'm heading to school now," Komachi said, seeing that he was finally up. With that, she turned and left.
She wasn't about to be late just because of him.
Hikigaya Hachiman slowly sat up, wincing as he rubbed his sore arms. His thoughts were finally clearing up.
"seriously…" He let out a self-mocking chuckle and reached for his phone on the nightstand.
The moment he saw the time, his eyes widened.
He threw off his blanket and tried to get out of bed, but his sore muscles betrayed him. He managed to get one foot on the ground before losing his balance and face-planting onto the floor.
"Ow, ow, ow…"
Groaning, he struggled to his feet, rubbing his aching thigh. He then staggered toward the bathroom like a zombie to wash up.
There was no escaping being late today.
---
"Yo, Hikigaya. You're early today."
On the podium, Hiratsuka Shizuka stood with her arms crossed, staring at the dead-eyed boy who had arrived much later than he should have.
She smirked coldly.
Seeing him limp into the classroom, the blame in her eyes immediately disappeared. She frowned and asked, "What happened to you? Did you get hurt on the way to school?"
"No, I just overtrained." Hikigaya Hachiman grimaced.
He had ridden his bike to school.
It felt like making an out-of-shape shut-in do frog jumps around the track, then forcing them to bike to school the next day—pure agony.
"Forget it, just go to your seat." Seeing his miserable state, Hiratsuka Shizuka didn't have the heart to scold him anymore. She waved him off and let him return to his desk.
"Thanks."
Hikigaya Hachiman let out a long sigh and walked stiffly to his seat like a puppet.
On the blackboard, there was a title: *Cultural Festival Committee Election.*
Both positions—one for a male and one for a female committee member—were still empty. The dead-eyed boy couldn't help but chuckle. Did this kind of temporary role really need an election? Normally, no one would volunteer for it, let alone compete for it.
Looking around, almost everyone had their heads down as low as possible, as if they were afraid of making eye contact with the overly enthusiastic teacher on the podium and getting picked.
By the time Hikigaya Hachiman arrived, half of the morning homeroom had already passed, and the next class was about to start. Yet, no one had been chosen for the committee. Hiratsuka Shizuka was getting annoyed.
She scanned the room and saw a certain latecomer smirking. You think this is funny? Fine, you're it.
Without hesitation, she picked up a piece of chalk and wrote *Hikigaya Hachiman* under the male committee member spot. "Honestly, why are we dragging this out? The next class is about to start. I'll pick one first, and we'll deal with the rest after school!"
In the end, it always came down to the teacher deciding.
Hikigaya Hachiman smirked. Just as I expected. He was proud of himself for seeing through the process.
Then, his smile froze.
Wait.
Why did that name on the blackboard look so familiar?
It was identical to his own.
Huh? There's another Hikigaya Hachiman in this class? What a surprise—
"Wait, what!?"
His eyes widened. He slammed his hands on the desk and shot up from his seat, only to be hit with a wave of pain from his sore muscles, making him wince.
"W-Why me!?" Hikigaya Hachiman gritted his teeth.
"You were late and sitting there smirking," Hiratsuka Shizuka said, clearly annoyed.
I was going to let your lateness slide after seeing your sorry state, but then you had to look all smug, like you had everything figured out. Well, that's on you.
"No objections. No complaints. Sit down. Class is starting."
Hiratsuka Shizuka shut down any arguments, erased the blackboard, and began her lesson.
I don't have time to waste on this nonsense.
Hikigaya Hachiman looked like he had just swallowed a bug.
Ever since Yukinoshita Yukino transferred to Jujutsu High as an exchange student, he had started getting involved with them too.
Aside from training, he occasionally took on low-level missions, like exorcising Grade 4 or Grade 3 curses.
His mindset had slowly started to change. He could no longer just stay out of things and live his quiet life.
From the intel provided by Jujutsu High, the mastermind behind the Shinjuku incident was still at large. Similar terrorist attacks could happen again.
At least until that major threat was dealt with, Hikigaya Hachiman wouldn't be able to go back to his peaceful life.
Becoming a stay-at-home husband could wait until after the curses were gone.
Sigh. Whatever. I'll just half-ass this committee job.
With that thought, Hikigaya Hachiman sighed in resignation.
That afternoon, after school, the class rep—wearing glasses—started the election for the female committee member.
"I really don't get why every class has to have a male and female committee member."
Hikigaya Hachiman mumbled while lying on his desk.
Where am I supposed to find a girl willing to pair up with me?
"If no one volunteers, we'll decide by rock-paper-scissors…"
Before the class rep could finish, a small hand hesitantly went up.
"I-I'll do it."
A pink-haired girl with a bun spoke timidly.
—
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