A Conversation at the Café

After the dismissal bell rang, Yuto packed up his textbooks and was about to leave the classroom.

"Lin."

He turned around and saw Horikita Suzune standing beside his desk, holding a light blue folder. Her expression was no different from usual.

"Do you have time? There's something I want to talk to you about."

Yuto looked at her and paused for a second.

"What is it?"

"It's not convenient to talk here," Horikita said. "Let's go to the café by the school gate. My treat."

Yuto did not answer right away. This was the first time Horikita had taken the initiative to speak with him about something. Given her personality, she would not have brought it up unless she truly had something to say. And the fact that she had specifically chosen a place outside the school meant she did not want the other students to overhear.

"Okay," he said.

He sent Miki a message, telling her he would arrive late today. Then he followed Horikita out of the classroom.

The two walked down the hallway toward the school gate. They ran into several classmates on the way, and some of them greeted them. Horikita nodded in response, but she did not stop to chat. She walked quickly, every step carrying a clear sense of purpose. It did not seem like a spur-of-the-moment decision. It felt more like she had thought about it for a long time before finally deciding to speak.

The café by the school gate was a standalone wooden building, with several vines climbing up its outer walls. A black sign hung above the entrance. Yuto had passed by it a few times before, but he had never gone inside.

When they pushed open the door, the scent of coffee beans drifted over them. The café was not large, with only five or six tables and warm yellow lighting. There were not many customers at this hour of the afternoon. Only a boy wearing headphones sat in the corner, drinking coffee while looking at his phone.

Horikita chose a table by the window and sat down, placing the folder on the table.

Yuto sat across from her.

A server came over, and they each ordered a coffee. Horikita did not speak until their drinks were served.

"You must have noticed too," she said. "Class D's situation is not looking good."

Yuto did not respond, waiting for her to continue.

"You also heard what Chabashira-sensei said at the entrance briefing. This school operates on meritocracy, and class points determine the benefits each class receives. Class D started at the bottom, and judging by the current situation, most of our class has no idea how serious the problem is."

She paused and looked Yuto in the eyes.

"Sudo and the others waste their days away. Ike and Yamauchi are the same. The rest either mindlessly join in the noise or act like none of it has anything to do with them. If this continues, Class D will never move up."

"So what are you trying to say by talking to me about this?" Yuto asked, lifting his coffee and taking a sip.

"I need help," Horikita said. "Someone with a brain who can see the situation clearly."

Yuto set down his cup but did not answer immediately.

The words did not come as much of a surprise. From the first day of school, Horikita had shown him unusual attention. Her questions on the bus, her probing in the classroom, her attempts to speak with him in the hallway. She had been observing him, just as he had been observing everyone around him. But for her to come directly to him and discuss working together was a little faster than he had expected.

"Why me?" he asked.

"Because you're different from the others," Horikita said. "You're not like Sudo, who only thinks about basketball every day, nor are you like Ike and Yamauchi, who just drift along with the crowd. You observe, calculate, and make plans of your own. You act lazy, but you're not actually giving up."

"And," she added, "I know about your job at the cake shop. Someone who starts looking for ways to earn points as soon as they enter school cannot be the type who does not care about anything."

Yuto did not deny it.

He really was not giving up. He was simply waiting—for the right time, for the situation to become clear. But not giving up and wanting to rise to Class A were two different things.

"So what you mean is," he said, "you want to rise to Class A, and you need someone to help you. You think I'm suitable, so you came to talk about working together."

"You could put it that way."

"Then how do you want to work together?"

Horikita opened the folder. Inside was a sheet of paper. Yuto glanced at it and saw the names of everyone in Class D listed on it, marked in different colors. Some names were underlined, some had question marks beside them, and some were circled.

"I'm organizing the usable resources in our class," Horikita said. "I've made preliminary assessments of everyone's strengths, personalities, and weaknesses. You work at the cake shop, which means you have the ability to earn money. You read in the library, which means you have self-control. You hardly participate in the class's pointless conversations, which means you have your own judgment."

She closed the folder.

"Class D's current problem is that those with ability are unwilling to step forward, while those willing to step forward lack ability. Hirata is popular, but he's too gentle and lacks decisiveness. Sudo has initiative, but no brains. The others are not even worth mentioning. No matter how I look at it, you're the only person in the whole class who has both observation skills and judgment."

"You think too highly of me," Yuto said.

"I don't," Horikita said. "I'm only stating the facts. I've been observing every person in the class since school started over a week ago. What you do, what you don't do, what you react to, and what leaves you indifferent—I've seen all of it."

"Then you should have seen that I'm not very interested in moving up to Class A."

"That's why I wanted to talk to you," Horikita said. "I want to know whether you truly aren't interested, or whether you're merely saying so. Because based on what I've observed, your behavior does not resemble that of someone who truly does not care about anything."

Yuto was silent for a while.

He had to admit that Horikita's analysis was accurate. She truly had carefully observed everyone in the class, and she did not judge people by their grades or popularity, but by whether they could think independently. That made him see her in a new light.

But that did not mean he would agree to help her.

"You assessed everyone," he said. "But have you considered one possibility? That someone may have the ability, but simply not want to do this?"

Horikita's brows furrowed slightly.

"Are you talking about yourself?"

"Yes."

"Why?" Horikita asked. "Don't you want to rise to Class A? Don't you want better prospects after graduation? Don't you want more choices and resources?"

"Wanting something and doing something are two different matters," Yuto said. "Moving up to Class A isn't something you can accomplish just by talking about it. It requires time and effort, and you have to deal with all kinds of trouble. We might come into conflict with other classes, draw the teachers' attention, or even disrupt my current life."

He paused.

"My life is pretty good right now. Classes, meals, work, reading, and occasionally going out for a walk. No pressure, no burdens, and no need to scheme against anyone. I'm satisfied with things as they are. I don't want to disrupt all of it for an uncertain goal."

"You're running away," Horikita said.

"Call it whatever you want."

"Do you think your current life can continue forever?" Horikita's tone became firmer than before. "Don't you understand this school's rules yet? If the class points hit zero, Class D won't receive any resources. When that happens, even buying a bottle of water will require careful calculation. Do you think you'll still be able to live as leisurely as you do now?"

"We'll deal with it when it happens."

"By then, it'll be too late."

"Maybe," Yuto said. "But I still refuse."

Horikita drew in a deep breath, as if suppressing her emotions.

"May I ask what your actual reason for refusing is? What you said just now sounded more like excuses than the real reason."

Yuto considered it and decided to tell her the truth.

"Because my goal is different from yours. You want to rise to Class A, perhaps because you're competitive, perhaps because you don't want to lose to others. But I don't have any reason that makes winning a necessity. My goal in coming to this school is simple: graduate peacefully, then live the life I want. Whether I rise to Class A is not important to me. What matters is that the process not be too exhausting."

Horikita stared at him for a long time, as if processing his words.

"Do you know what I find most difficult to understand?" she said. "You clearly have ability, yet you refuse to use it. I've seen many people who want to work hard but lack the ability, but you're the exact opposite."

"That's because you see ability as an obligation," Yuto said. "Does having ability mean you must make use of it? Does having ability mean you have to pursue the best possible outcome? I don't think so. Ability is only a tool. Whether I use it is my freedom."

"So you choose not to use it."

"Yes. At least not for now."

"What if one day you have no choice but to use it?"

"Then we'll deal with it when it happens."

Horikita said nothing, lowering her gaze to the folder on the table.

"I didn't expect you to have this attitude," she said quietly.

"I know you may be disappointed," Yuto said. "But rather than lie and tell you I'll help, it's better to make things clear from the beginning. I don't want to give you false expectations."

"But have you considered this?" Horikita raised her head, her gaze sharpening again. "If Class D truly collapses in the end, you'll be dragged down too. Your peaceful life is built on the foundation that Class D can still hold itself together. Once Class D falls apart, you won't be able to protect anything."

"That makes things even simpler," Yuto said. "If Class D really can't hold on, I'll solve the problem in my own way. No cooperation, no team. I'll be enough on my own."

"You're that confident?"

"It's not confidence," Yuto said. "It's laziness. Rather than spend time and energy adjusting to other people, it's less trouble to work alone."

Horikita stopped speaking.

She leaned back in her chair, folding her hands on the table as she looked at him, as though reassessing him from the beginning.

Just then, a voice came from nearby.

"You refused pretty decisively."

Yuto turned his head and saw a boy sitting at the table diagonally behind them, with a glass of barely touched water in front of him. He wore a gray uniform jacket, had dark brown hair, and an ordinary face. His presence was so faint that he was easy to overlook.

Ayanokoji Kiyotaka.

Yuto had noticed him as soon as he entered. He was the boy sitting in the corner looking at his phone. But he had not spoken the entire time, nor had he looked in their direction, so Yuto had assumed he was just an ordinary customer.

Apparently, that was not the case.

"You are...?" Yuto pretended not to know him.

"Ayanokoji Kiyotaka. We're in the same class," Ayanokoji said. "Horikita asked me to come. She said she wanted me to hear what you had to say too."

Yuto glanced at Horikita.

Horikita did not deny it.

"So you came prepared," Yuto said.

"I only wanted to hear more perspectives," Horikita said.

Ayanokoji stood up, walked over to their table, and sat in the empty seat beside Yuto.

"I thought you would agree," he said.

"Why did you think that?"

"Because you refused more decisively than I expected," Ayanokoji said. "When most people are asked whether they want to cooperate, they hesitate at least a little. But you said no without even thinking about it."

Yuto raised his coffee and took a sip without replying.

"Ayanokoji," Yuto said, "you've been listening the whole time?"

"We're sitting this close. It would be hard not to."

"Then do you think I should agree?"

"I didn't say that," Ayanokoji said. "It's your business."

Yuto set down his cup and looked at him. Ayanokoji's expression was flat, revealing no emotion. Even the way he spoke was casual, as though he had merely thrown in an offhand comment.

"What about you?" Yuto asked. "Are you also someone Horikita brought in to help?"

Ayanokoji was silent for a second.

"I suppose."

"Will you help her?"

"I haven't decided yet."

"Then what was your reason for coming here today?" Yuto asked again.

"Horikita said she was going to talk to you, so I came along," Ayanokoji said.

"That's it?"

"That's it."

Yuto looked at him but did not press further.

Horikita spoke at that moment. "Then why not reject me completely?"

"Because there's no need," Yuto said. "I'm refusing you now, but you might feel dissatisfied and come to talk to me again in the future. If I make my refusal too absolute, even normal conversation between us will become awkward later. We're classmates. We'll still have classes together, and I don't want things to turn hostile."

Horikita was silent for a while.

"You've thought it through."

"It's a habit."

"Then have you considered this?" Horikita said. "If you don't work with me and Class D runs into trouble later, you may regret it."

"I might," Yuto said. "But that would be a problem for the future. At least for now, I don't want to take on a pile of work over trouble that hasn't happened yet. And to put it bluntly, Class D's problems cannot be solved in a day or two. Even if I agreed to help you now, that wouldn't mean we could actually accomplish anything."

"So you're saving time for yourself."

"Yes," Yuto said. "My time is valuable. I don't want to spend it on things with a low chance of success."

Horikita did not say anything else.

She lowered her gaze and lightly ran a finger along the rim of her coffee cup. The gesture was small, but Yuto noticed it. She was thinking and weighing her options. She was judging whether to continue trying to persuade him or give up.

In the end, she chose the latter.

"I understand," she said.

Yuto nodded, stood up, and took out his wallet.

"Horikita, I understand your intentions. But my answer remains the same. I don't want to get involved in rising to Class A. If you truly need help, Ayanokoji may be more suitable than I am. His observation skills are better than mine, and he's no less intelligent. At the very least, he hasn't explicitly refused you."

He placed the money for the coffee on the table.

"This one's on me."

Then he turned and walked toward the door.