COTE: Hikigaya's Classroom of the Supreme Being

The first day of school left Hikigaya feeling uneasy about his future at this new campus. Despite his apprehension, there was no turning back now.

He found his assigned seat, tucked away in the last row next to the corridor.

While it wasn't the protagonist seat by the window, this corner spot suited Hikigaya just fine. He preferred being in a position where others were less likely to notice him. Not that it really mattered—his presence was barely acknowledged no matter where he sat.

This wasn't self-pity but rather a hard-earned lesson from years of blending into the background, dating all the way back to elementary school.

Just as he was settling in, Hikigaya felt a strange sensation, as if someone was watching him. Instinctively, he looked up at the ceiling.

There, nestled among the background decorations, was a circular surveillance camera, its faint red light blinking steadily. It was almost camouflaged, easy to miss unless one was specifically looking for it.

"A camera in the classroom?" Hikigaya thought, feeling a pang of regret. "Looks like I won't be able to sneak in naps during math class anymore."

As Hikigaya lamented his lost opportunities for covert slumber, the bell rang, signaling the official start of the school day. Almost simultaneously, a woman strode into the classroom. She wore a gray suit, her sharp eyes and tightly pulled ponytail giving her an air of stern authority. There was something familiar in her demeanor that reminded Hikigaya of his strict junior high school teacher, Hiratsuka Shizuka—a woman whose solitary nature and near-thirty singlehood were common knowledge.

Suddenly, the woman's gaze snapped toward Hikigaya, her eyes narrowing as if she had read his thoughts.

"Everyone, take your seats."

Her voice was as cold as her appearance. The murmurs in the classroom ceased immediately, and the freshmen hurried back to their seats. Hikigaya sat up straighter, his attention now fully on the teacher.

"Welcome, freshmen. First, congratulations on being accepted into this advanced institution. I am your homeroom teacher, Chabashira Sae, and I will also be teaching Japanese history. Unlike other schools, there will be no class changes during your time here. For the next three years, I will remain your homeroom teacher, guiding you through your journey. I look forward to working with you."

With a practiced ease, Chabashira placed a box on the podium, her eyes sweeping over the students.

"Now, I'm going to explain the special rules of this school. You should have already been briefed on some of these during the admissions orientation, so this will be a review for most of you."

The students nodded, understanding that this school was unique in many ways.

Chabashira-sensei then covered the basics: "Tuition is free," "External contact is prohibited unless under special circumstances," and other familiar points from the admissions process.

None of this was new, and Hikigaya found his mind drifting, though one thing did catch his attention—the fact that there would be no class changes for three years.

In most schools, classes are reshuffled annually, typically based on student performance and teacher assessments. This ensures a fair distribution of education opportunities. However, Toyuk—or Tokyo Metropolitan Advanced Nurturing High School, as it was formally known—clearly wasn't an ordinary institution. Its rules seemed to defy conventional educational norms, with a strong emphasis on experimentation.

Hikigaya couldn't shake the feeling that the reason behind this unusual structure was that the students had already been sorted into tiers—good and bad—before they even set foot on campus.

"I'm really starting to hate this school," Hikigaya mused.

As Chabashira-sensei continued her explanation, she began handing out mobile phones from the box she had brought in.

"This school has another unique feature: the S System. The mobile phone you are receiving is your student ID terminal. Communication is limited to within the school grounds. All external contacts will be blocked. Additionally, this device will serve as your sole means of payment within the school."

Hikigaya recalled hearing about student ID cards that doubled as credit cards in the past. It seemed the school had upgraded its technology to match the times.

"The interface is simple. After logging in with a face scan, you can use the phone for all transactions, just like mobile payment. What you're spending, however, is not money but points issued by the school. As long as you're here, anything you need can be bought with these points."

Up to this point, everything Chabashira-sensei had said made sense. But then, she dropped a bombshell.

"Points will be automatically transferred on the first of each month. As of now, each of you should have received 100,000 points. By the way, each point is equivalent to one yen. Any questions?"

"One hundred thousand?!" The classroom erupted into chaos.

It was no wonder—the equivalent of 100,000 yen, just for enrolling, was a staggering sum for high school students.

Hikigaya glanced at his phone. Sure enough, beneath his avatar was a six-digit figure: 100,000 points.

"This is way too generous," he thought, skepticism gnawing at him. There had to be a catch.

To put this into perspective, Hikigaya's parents only gave him 10,000 yen for his birthday each year, and that was without splurging on a cake. These points amounted to ten birthdays' worth of money, handed over in one go.

Hikigaya wasn't the only one who found this hard to believe. Most of the class seemed equally bewildered, which was only natural. Free money—especially in such large amounts—was unheard of. Even if it were possible, there had to be strings attached.

Sensing the growing unease, Chabashira-sensei quickly addressed their concerns.

"Are you surprised? There's no need to be. This school evaluates students based on their potential and abilities. The points you receive are a reflection of the school's assessment of you. Feel free to use them as you see fit."

"Once awarded, the points are yours. You can even transfer them to others if you wish, but be warned—bullying will not be tolerated."

Chabashira-sensei's expression remained unreadable as she looked around the room. "That concludes the important details. Any other questions?"

Hikigaya had a lot of questions—about the cameras, the lack of class changes, the overly generous points—but he didn't raise his hand. Asking would draw too much attention, something he desperately wanted to avoid.

Besides, he didn't relish the idea of interacting with Chabashira-sensei more than necessary. She had already left him with a bad first impression, and he had no desire to get involved with someone who seemed so... off-putting.

Her last remarks, encouraging students to spend freely, seemed almost like she was trying to stir the pot.

No decent educator would advocate such behavior.

"Well, it seems no one has any questions. I wish you all a wonderful school life."

With that, Chabashira-sensei left the classroom, her departure as brisk as her entrance. The room erupted into conversation as soon as she was gone. Most of the students were buzzing with excitement over their unexpected windfall, already planning how to spend their points.

But Hikigaya had more pressing concerns.

He had just experienced something supernatural on his new phone.

It was clearly a brand-new phone that had just been issued to him, and he had never exchanged numbers with anyone else, yet he received a text message from a stranger.

[Hikigaya-kun, congratulations on your admission. The class meeting should be over by now. I'm waiting for you in the eastern most classroom on the second floor of the special building. We'll talk about the details when we meet.]

[PS: If you dare to ignore it, you know what I mean, right?]

Hey, hey, hey, this tone felt eerily familiar...

A cold sweat broke out on Hikigaya's forehead.

How was this possible?

Yukinoshita Haruno, why did this Demon Queen appear here?