The day after we went to the maid café, there were more people in the clubroom than there had ever been in its history. We'd been brought together by Yukinoshita's assertion that if treating the symptoms failed, we should try another tack and aim to treat the source of the problem.
Yukinoshita, Yuigahama, and I were basically members, so I got why we were there. And Totsuka and Zaimokuza visited us regularly, so there wasn't anything odd about their presence, either. Though anyone else being there should have seemed unnatural, oddly enough, the last guy fit right in.
"Why are you here?" I asked Hayama. He was reading a book by the window. Hey, you're supposed to be the sunny sports type. You can't be reading books. Are you Perfect Cell?
"Hey." Hayama closed his book and waved. "Well, Yui invited me, too…"
"She did?"
I turned to see Yuigahama proudly puffing out her chest for some reason. "Well, I've been thinking that there's a reason Kawasaki changed, right? So I think taking away whatever made her change is a good idea, too, but that'll be hard if she won't listen to anybody, right?"
"Hmm, well, that's true." Miraculously, Yuigahama was attempting to employ logic. Impressed by this tiny miracle, I commented to indicate I was listening.
Perhaps this flattered her, because she threw her chest out even more, leaning so far back she was practically looking at the ceiling. "Right?! So we need an idea to turn things around. Since she changed and went bad, if she changes again, she should go back to good."
I guess this is what they mean by "The opposite of approval is approval." Man, Fujio Akatsuki is so great.
"So why was it necessary to invite Hayama?" Perhaps Yukinoshita wasn't so fond of him, as her tone was sharp. Hayama didn't seem to be particularly bothered. His attention was focused on Yuigahama. "Come on, Yukinon. There's only one reason a girl would change."
"The reason a girl would change… Do you mean the depreciation of her assets?"
"You mean like getting old?! N-no! At the end of the day, a girl is always a girl! Yukinon, you don't get the importance of thinking with your smexy bits!"
"That again…" Yukinoshita sighed, exasperated.
But you know…I think girls who fail to notice that girls who use the word smexy aren't overly smexy themselves lack smexiness.
"A girl would change because of…l-love." What an embarrassing thing to blurt out. Plus, Yuigahama was more shamed for having said it than we were for hearing it. "A-anyway! Lots of things change when you have a crush! So I think maybe if we could just trigger that… And that's why I invited Hayato."
"U-um, but, I'm still not really following…," Hayama confessed with a strained smile.
Come on, you jerk! If you really don't get it, I'm gonna lose it, I thought, flaring my eyes wide and glaring at Hayama. At almost exactly the same moment, Zaimokuza did the same.
"There's lots of other guys girls'd go for. Like, look at the guys here… Lots of girls like Totsuka, right?"
Phew… So Hayama is aware he's a chick magnet… Wait, no—this is absolutely unforgivable! My eyes popped, and I doubled down with the glaring. Perfectly in sync, Zaimokuza did the same.
"I-I don't really understand that stuff, though…" Totsuka looked down, blushing.
Seeing Totsuka like that, Yuigahama crossed her arms pensively.
"Hmm, I agree that lots of girls like him, too, but I don't think he's
Kawasaki's type. And the rest of these guys are like…well, Special
Snowflake is a special snowflake, so Hayato's the only one left."
"Hey, you can't just casually leave me out."
"Y-you're out of the question, Hikki!"
Hey, no need to turn beet red and get all mad about it… But still, it was a bit of a shock that I was even more out of the question than Zaimokuza… And was "Special Snowflake" his nickname?
"Yuigahama's assessment is sound," said Yukinoshita. "Do you think anyone in our class who got to know you would be swayed?"
"You have a point." Well, I was convinced. I mean, if I were a girl, I wouldn't be interested in a loner like me. It's because, you know, loners have ninja talents. Ninjas can't afford to have people noticing them, so we can't help but be ignored. Seriously, my ninja skills are awesome. Believe it.
"Oh, um, but I didn't go that far, like…you're not actually that bad, and, uh…there's lots of reasons, so unfortunately…um, I want to ask Hayato to do this." While I'd been busy wondering how best to make use of my ninja skills and considering becoming Hokage, Yuigahama had been attempting to move the conversation forward. "Could you do this for us?" Yuigahama pleaded, putting her palms together as she bowed her head.
No boy could refuse after being asked like that. Boys are complicated creatures. A boy is happy when someone relies on him, gets distracted by the boob jiggle when a girl smacks her hands together, and this sort of request stimulates his desire to save someone—to be a hero—that's he's fostered since he was small. You know, so complicated.
Apparently, Hayama was no exception to this rule, as he gave a tiny shrug and replied, "I understand. If that's the reason, then I have no choice. Though I have my reservations, I'll give it a shot. You give it your best shot, too, Yui," he said, and he patted Yuigahama on the head.
No, you're the one who's going to be giving it your best shot. "Th-thanks…," said Yuigahama, rubbing the spot where he'd patted her.
And thus, the curtain rose on Yuigahama's proposal: the Gigolo Hayama's Rom-Com Pitter-Patter Heart-Pounding Operation! Hey, what's with this Showa-esque naming affinity?
The gist of the plan was simple. Hayama would muster all his strength to HeartCatch Kawasaki, no keyblade required. See what I did there?
We readied ourselves to head home and then went to the parking lot to wait for Kawasaki to show up. Of course, it'd be weird for Hayama to be seen with the rest of us, so we decided to keep an eye on the two of them from a distance.
And then, finally, the time came. Just as she had the day before, Kawasaki walked listlessly, sluggishly, as if dragging her feet. She swallowed a yawn, and just as she unlocked her bike, Hayama appeared as if on cue.
"What's up? You look pretty tired." He greeted her casually. It was supposedly acting, but he seemed so natural, just eavesdropping I felt the urge to give him a Wh-what's up? in reply. "Do you have a job or something? Don't work too hard, okay?"
What an amazing display of casual concern… Man, seriously, Hayama was such a great guy.
While I was halfway to falling for him myself, Kawasaki just sighed in annoyance. "Thanks for your concern. I'm going now. Bye," she said brusquely, pushing her bicycle as if to leave.
But then, a kind, warm, heart-melting voice called out behind her. "Hey…"
This was enough to bring even Kawasaki up short. She stopped in her tracks and turned to face Hayama. The fresh early-summer wind blew between the couple. The suddenly blossoming rom-com atmosphere prompted Yuigahama to lean forward, rapt, as she clenched her sweaty palms. Zaimokuza burned with jealousy, hatred, and murderous rage, also clenching his fists.
The invigorating wind stopped, and Hayama's voice rang out. He seemed to be sparkling. It was as if he were radiating negative air ions or something. "You don't have to put on that tough act, you know?"
"Yeah, whatever."
The wheels of her bicycle rattled as they spun out, but for Hayato Hayama, time had stopped. He stood there for a full ten seconds, left in the dust with a rather embarrassed smile on his face, before he returning to our vantage from the shadows. "I think…I just got rejected." Silence.
"Oh, well, thanks for…" I'd thought to thank him for his trouble, but the rest of the words refused to come out. A strange feeling cascaded through the muscles in my stomach. Damn it! Calm down, abs! I tried to suppress the mounting pressure somehow, but my sides split before I could manage it.
"Pft…pfffft! GWA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA! Th-thou has been SPURNED! She rejected you! You were trying so hard to look cool, and she still rejected you! Pfffft-ha-ha-ha!"
"Stop that, Za…ah-ha-ha-ha…"
"B-both of you! Stop laughing!" Totsuka scolded, and I tried to restrain myself. Zaimokuza's bellowing made it even funnier, though, and I couldn't help it.
"O-oh, well, it doesn't really bother me. It's okay, Totsuka," Hayama reassured, the awkward purse of his lips looking wry.
He was a good guy. He helped us out even though he wasn't into it, and he got hurt doing it.
Perhaps even Zaimokuza was affected by Hayama's gentlemanly attitude. He sucked in his laughter, coughed, and composed himself. "Whatever-your-name-is…Hayama…you don't have to put on that…pfft…tough act, you know! Ha-ha-ha!"
"You jerk! Stop that, Zaimokuza! Don't laugh at him!" Zaimokuza and I were cracking up, but Yuigahama's face was twitching. "You guys are so horrible."
"So this strategy has failed, too," Yukinoshita noted. "Oh well. Let's go to that other place tonight."
"Yeah."
Phew, that was fun.
This was the first time I'd ever been glad I joined the Service Club.
Period.
The arms on my watch showed the time to be 8:20 PM. We were meeting up in front of Kaihin-Makuhari Station, so there I was leaning against a sculpture that, for some reason, was big, long, and pointy. Nickname: weird pointy thing. The place we were heading was on the top floor of the Hotel Royal Okura: the bar Angel's Ladder. It was the only other business in Chiba that operated until morning and had a name starting with angel. This was probably the first and last time I'd ever go to such a fancy place.
I had a thin jacket with me that still felt unfamiliar, and I put it on again to get used to it. I'd liberated this gem from my father's closet without asking, and I guess we had roughly the same build, because it fit me perfectly. With the jacket, I wore a black shirt with a collar, jeans, and long-nose leather shoes on my feet. Usually, I'd never dress up like this. I just didn't really care about clothes and stuff in general. All of it aside from the jeans was my dad's. I'd even gelled up my hair.
Outfit coordinated by: Komachi Hikigaya. I'd asked Komachi to pick out some stuff for me to try and make me look older, so she'd ransacked the house and pulled together this outfit. "You've got this exhausted look in your eyes like a salaryman who's tired of life, Bro, so if you just do something about your clothes and hair, you'll look like a grown-up."
How was I supposed to react to a remark like that? Come on… Are my eyes that bad?
The first one to show up at our rendezvous point was Saika Totsuka. "Sorry, did I keep you waiting?"
"No, I just got here."
Totsuka's outfit was slightly sporty in a unisex sort of way. His cargo pants were on the loose side, and his T-shirt was slightly on the tight side. He had a fine-threaded beanie pulled back on his head, and there were headphones around his neck. The dully shining wallet chain at his hip swung every time his sneaker-clad feet moved. This was the first time I'd ever seen Totsuka out of uniform, so I stared at him, dazed.
Totsuka pulled down the beanie as if he was embarrassed for some reason in an attempt to hide his eyes. "D-don't stare at me like that… D-do I look weird?"
"N-no, not at all! It suits you."
It kind of felt like we were on a date, somehow, but unfortunately, we weren't. As proof of that, Zaimokuza materialized. For some reason, he was wearing samue and had a white towel wrapped around his head like a bandanna. I ignored him.
"Hmph. I believe this was where our party was supposed to meet… Oh-ho! Is that not Hachiman?"
His obnoxious little act got on my nerves, but now that he'd found me, there was nothing I could do. "What's with that outfit? Why are you wearing a towel on your head? Are you gonna run a ramen shop?"
He sighed. "Oh, Hachiman. Was it not you who said we should dress like adults? And so I chose the style of a working man: a samue and a towel."
Oh, so that's what he'd been thinking. Well, he already had it on, so there was nothing that could be done about it now. Actually, we could just leave him behind, so whatever.
I think I'd reached that conclusion right around the time I heard the click, click of Yuigahama approaching. Her eyes darting about, she pulled out her phone. Oh, so she hadn't noticed us.
"Yuigahama." I called out to her, and she twitched before turning timidly in my direction. Hey, wait. You were just looking at me a second ago, though.
"H-Hikki? Oh, it's you! I didn't recognize you for a second… Th-that outfit…"
"What? Don't laugh."
"N-no, that's not it at all! Um, it's so different from what you usually wear, it just startled me…" She ogled me, going "Whoa!" and "Ooh!" and "Ahh!" before giving me a vigorous nod. "Komachi picked this out, didn't she?"
"Oh, so you could tell."
"I knew it." Yuigahama came off as if she'd somehow been convinced of something…but what? She was giving me a Piiko-esque fashion evaluation for some reason, so I decided to do the same like Don Konishi.
Yuigahama wore a tube top with a plastic bra strap over the right side; the left was off the shoulder. Apparently, she liked her heartcharm necklace a lot, as she still had it dangling from her neck. Over her top, she sported a short-sleeved denim jacket, and down below, she had on a pair of black short shorts with metal buttons. Her feet were covered by some fairly high-heeled mules with a bit that wrapped around her ankles like a vine. With every step, her anklet rattled.
"You're kinda…not very adult-looking."
"What? Howso?!" Yuighama seemed flustered as she scrutinized her arms and her legs. That made her look even more like a college student than her style already did.
That accounted for almost our entire party. Now just one more…and with that thought, a voice called out from behind us. "I apologize. Am I late?" Her white summer dress was vivid in the darkness. The black leggings beneath it made her slim legs look supple. Her utterly simple, tiny mules complimented her slender ankles. When she turned her wrist up to check the time, the pink face of her smallish wristwatch shone cutely against her white skin. The metal strap wrapped around that smooth wrist looked like silverwork. "So I'm right on time." Like edelweiss blooming at night, Yukino Yukinoshita radiated a composed charm.
"Y-yeah…" Nothing else came out of me. I remembered that first time I stepped into the Service Club clubroom and how she'd overwhelmed me.
If only she had a decent personality…
"Have you ever heard of the no-waste ghost?"
"What nonsense. There's no such thing as ghosts." Yukinoshita immediately waved my comment aside and looked our entire entourage up and down. "Hmm…" Then, starting with Zaimokuza, she pointed to each of us in order. "Fail."
"Muh?"
"Fail."
"Huh?"
"Fail."
"What?"
"Disqualified."
"Hey…" For some reason, she was grading pass/fail, and I'd gotten a different mark from everybody else.
"I told you to wear mature clothing, didn't I?"
"Not to dress up like adults?"
"You can't get into the establishment we're visiting without appropriate attire. It's common sense that a man would wear a collared shirt and a formal jacket."
"R-really…?" Totsuka asked, and Yukinoshita nodded.
"It's a fairly standard policy at some of the more upscale restaurants and hotels. You should keep that in mind."
"You sure know a lot about this." This didn't sound like the sort of intel your average high schooler would have at their fingertips. I mean, the only restaurants we went to were Saize and Bamiyan. The fanciest it got was Roiyaho. Anyway, the only one of us wearing a formal jacket was me. Totsuka was fairly casual, and Zaimokuza was dressed up like a ramen chef.
"M-my clothes are no good?" Yuigahama fretted, and Yukinoshita looked slightly troubled.
"The dress code isn't so particular for women, but…if Hikigaya is the one escorting you, that might be a little sketchy."
"Come on, come on! Lookit the jacket, the jacket!" I fluttered my jacket like Hiromi Gou in an attempt to call attention to it, but Yukinoshita only chuckled derisively.
"No matter how much you attempt to divert attention from them with your clothing, your eyes are so rotten, I doubt your ability to get in."
Were they really that bad?
"I don't want to have to come back a second time because we were refused service, so it might be a good idea for Yuigahama to come get changed at my place."
"Huh? I can go to your place, Yukinon?! Let's go, let's go! Oh, but I'm not being a bother, coming over this late?"
"You don't have to worry about it. I live alone."
"You're such a strong, independent woman!" Yuigahama's astonishment was overdone.
Was that her standard, really? Was every woman who lived alone strong and independent? But hearing that Yukinoshita lived alone, it did make sense. She was an amazing cook, but more than anything, I couldn't imagine her living with another human being.
"Then let's go. It's just over that way." Yukinoshita turned to the skyline behind her, indicating an apartment building known for being expensive, even within the region. Since I didn't watch TV much, I didn't really know, but apparently, they sometimes shot commercials or TV shows there. (Fun fact: Kaihin-Makuhari was often used as a location for superhero shows, too.) Yukinoshita's gaze was fixed near the top of the skyscraper distinguished by a pale orange light. It seemed her apartment was on one of the higher floors. Wh-whoa, is she actually bourgeoisie? I guess if she wasn't, her parents probably wouldn't have let their high school daughter live alone.
"I'm sorry you came all this way, Totsuka, but—"
"No, it's okay. I got to see everyone out of uniform, and that was fun," Totsuka said, smiling brightly. He was so cute, I didn't want him to go yet.
"Hey, so, Yuigahama, while you're getting changed, the three of us will go get something to eat," I said. "When it's over, just give me a call whenever."
"Yeah, I will!"
We split with the pair, and the three of us guys fell silent as if gauging how hungry we were.
"So on what shall we dine?" Zaimokuza asked, rubbing his belly.
Totsuka and I looked at each other.
"Ramen, I guess."
"Yeah, ramen."
I parted ways with Totsuka and Zaimokuza at the ticket gates. At the ramen shop, Zaimokuza had been mistaken for staff, and people kept trying to give him orders, but he and Totsuka appeared satisfied at having been able to eat delicious ramen.
I left the station and headed for the Hotel Royal Okura. This time, I was supposed to just meet Yukinoshita and Yuigahama there.
As I approached the entrance of the hotel for a second time, its size made me hesitate. Even the pale light illuminating the building had this high-class air. It clearly wasn't the kind of building a mere high school student could enter. But even so, heart pounding in my chest, I stepped inside. An unfamiliar feeling greeted my feet as my shoes sank into the plush, wall-to-wall carpet. Am I getting an Academy Award now or what? All the madames and dandies scattered throughout the lounge seemed somehow classy, and I also caught glimpses of a few foreigners here and there. Oh man, Makuhari was so metropolitan.
The place Yuigahama had designated in her e-mail for us to meet was in front of the elevator hall. Unlike the elevators with which I was familiar, these doors sparkled. Also, the sofa where I'd deposited myself felt rather nice. Hey, is this memory foam? And there were, like, vases and crap on display, too. As I messed around and contemplated the delightful smoosh sensation beneath me, my phone rang.
"We're just walking in now. Are you there already?" She said they were here, but… I glanced around.
"S-sorry to keep you waiting!" A girl who smelled kinda nice called out to me. Her crimson dress had a wide, plunging neckline that flowed down in a sort of mermaid shape. The whiteness of the back of her neck peeking from underneath her updo took my breath away. "Th-this feels like I'm dressed up for a piano recital…"
"Oh, Yuigahama. I was wondering who it was." Her remark was so pedestrian, it finally clued me in to the fact that this was Yuigahama. Had she been breezily composed, I probably wouldn't have recognized her.
"Couldn't you at least say it's like you're dressed up for a wedding? I have mixed feelings about you comparing this to something you'd wear to a piano recital," chastised a second voice attached to a beauty in a black dress just making her entrance. The fabric of her gown had a smooth, obsidian luster that emphasized the beauty of her pale skin like virgin snow, and the flared skirt ending above her knees showed off her long legs. Her luxurious, flowing, silken black hair was even glossier than the dress. It was tied up and loosely twisted, left to fall over her chest like jewelry. It couldn't have been anyone but Yukino Yukinoshita.
"B-but this is the first time I've ever worn anything like this. And, like, seriously, Yukinon, who are you?!"
"Don't be so dramatic. I have occasion to wear dresses from time to time, so I happen to have a few."
"Most people wouldn't have those sorts of occasions in the first place," I remarked. "And, like, where do they sell stuff like that? Shimamura?"
"Shimamura? I'm unfamiliar with that brand," she replied in all sincerity.
She doesn't know Shimamura. I bet she doesn't know Uniqlo, either.
"Come on, let's go." Yukinoshita pressed the elevator button. With a ping, the button lit up, and the doors silently opened. The car was glass-walled, and as it climbed, we could see over Tokyo Bay. The lights of cruising boats, the taillights of cars driving along the coastline, and the dazzling illumination of the high-rises colored the night view of Makuhari.
When we arrived at the top floor, the doors opened again. There was a calm, gentle light ahead of us. Splayed out in a glow so soft it was almost like candlelight, the bar lounge almost felt dark.
"Whoa…whoa, is this for real?" The scene unfolding before me clearly wasn't meant for my eyes. On a stage, a spotlight shone down on a white woman playing jazz music. She was probably American. Foreigner = American. I made eye contact with Yuigahama as if to say, Maybe we should go back after all? She nodded swiftly and vigorously. Just having a plebe like Yuigahama here with us calmed my nerves.
But high-society Yukinoshita wouldn't allow that. "Stop gawking." She ground her heel into my foot.
"Ow!" I nearly cried out: What's with those stiletto heels? Is that Ray Stinger?
"Stand up straight and push our your chest. Pull back your jaw." Yukinoshita whispered into my ear, quietly grabbing my right elbow. Her slender, well-shaped fingers clasped my arm.
"U-um… Wh-whatever is the matter, Miss Yukinoshita?"
"Don't get flustered over every little thing. Yuigahama, do the same thing."
"Wh-whaa?" Yuigahama's expression said, I don't get this!, but she obediently followed Yukinoshita's instructions.
"Now then, let's go."
Doing as I was told, I matched my pace to the girls' and slowly began walking. We passed through the heavy-looking open wooden doors, and immediately, a male server appeared by our side, quietly bowing his head. He didn't say a word—no How many guests? or Smoking or nonsmoking? He just took a step and a half forward to show us the bar counter at the end of the room, in front of a floor-to-ceiling window. At the bar, a female bartender was polishing glasses squeaky clean. She was slender and tall with fine facial features. She had a teardrop mole, and her expression seemed vaguely sorrowful. It suited the faintly lit establishment's ambiance.
Wait, that's Kawasaki.
She seemed different from how she normally was at school. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail, and she was dressed professionally in a black vest and white-collared shirt. Her movements were graceful and silent, not sluggish in the slightest. She didn't seem to recognize us as she quietly set out coasters and then waited silently. I would have thought she'd be handing out menus and asking So what'll it be? But I guess not. Duh.
"Kawasaki," I called out to her softly, and she seemed rather confused.
"I apologize. To whom am I speaking?"
"She doesn't remember you, even though you're in the same class. Impressive, Hikigaya," Yukinoshita said admiringly, seating herself on a stool.
"Well, you know. Our clothes are way different today. Of course she wouldn't recognize us." Yuigahama defended me as she sat down as well. The empty seat was the one right in between the two of them. If this were Othello, this would be my losing move. If it were Go… Well, I don't actually know how to play Go.
"We've been looking for you, Kawasaki," Yukinoshita began, and Kawasaki's face changed color.
"Yukinoshita…" Kawasaki scrutinized her as if she were the man who'd killed her father: Her eyes filled with distinct enmity. I'd been under the impression they'd never met before, but Yukinoshita was famous at our school, after all. And with her looks and personality, it was no surprise that some people found her disagreeable.
"Good evening." Whether she knew how Kawasaki felt about her or not, Yukinoshita gave her a composed salutation.
The pair locked eyes. Perhaps it was the light, but I felt like I could see sparks flying between them. Scary. Kawasaki's lids suddenly narrowed, focusing their attention on Yuigahama. It was as if she was probing her, thinking, Since Yukinoshita's from school, oh my, that means this girl must be, too, huh?
"H-hi…" Yuigahama gave a non-committal greeting after Kawasaki's optic drubbing.
"Yuigahama, huh? I didn't recognize you for a second there. Then is he from Soubu High, too?"
"Oh, yeah. Hikki is in our class. Hachiman Hikigaya."
Kawasaki gave a faint bow and then smiled as if somehow resigned. "I see. So I've been found out." She shrugged her shoulders, seemingly unconcerned, then leaned against the wall folding her arms. Perhaps she realized the end was nigh, so none of it mattered anymore. Reassuming the languid manner she bore at school, she heaved a shallow sigh and considered us. "Want something to drink?"
"I'll have a Perrier," Yukinoshita said. What? Perry? Did she just order something?
"I-I'll have what she's having!"
"Uh…" I'd just been thinking I'd say that…but Yuigahama got in ahead of me, and now the timing was off. Nngh. What, what should I say? Should I say Dom Perignon or Don Penguin? By the way, Don Penguin is the mascot for the palace of low, low prices. So even if I did order Don Pen, he probably wouldn't show up.
"Hikigaya, right? What about you?"
So that Perry guy Yukinoshita mentioned was a drink, huh…? I don't have to say Harris or Earnest Satow here, right? Then I guess I'll go with a drink name. "I'll have MAX Coff—"
"Get him a dry ginger ale," Yukinoshita interrupted.
"Right away," said Kawasaki with a wry smile as she set out three champagne glasses and poured into them with practiced hands before softly placing them on our coasters.
The three of us then silently contended with our glasses for some reason, bringing them to our lips.
"Of course they wouldn't have MAX Coffee," Yukinoshita said, as if she'd just remembered it.
"Seriously?! But this is Chiba!" A Chiba with no MAX Coffee is no Chiba at all, come on! It was like Yamanashi having mountains. "We do have it, though," Kawasaki muttered, and Yukinoshita shot her a glance. Hey, guys, seriously, why does it seem like you have some bad blood going on? You're acting scary. "So what did you come here for? You're not on a date with that, are you?"
"Of course not. If you're saying that in reference to this right here, that's in poor taste, even as a joke."
"Um, hey, this fight is between you two, so can you not make indiscriminate digs at me while you're at it?" "That"? "This"? Stop calling me by demonstratives. It looked like we were never gonna get anywhere if left to their own devices, so I decided to get the ball rolling. "I hear you haven't been getting home until late recently. It's because of this job, isn't it? Your brother's worried about you," I said.
Kawasaki smiled in her usual irritating way as if scoffing at me. "You came all this way just to say that? Well, good job. Come on, did you think I'd quit because some total stranger told me to?"
"Wow, Hikki…you're getting treated like a total stranger even though you're in the same class…" Yuigahama picked a weird time to be impressed. But I hadn't recognized Kawasaki, either, so we were probably even on that count.
"Oh, I've been wondering why everyone's been getting on my case lately. So it was you, huh? Did Taishi say something to you? I don't know how you know him, but I'll talk to him myself, so you don't have to worry about it. Stay away from him from now on." Kawasaki was glowering at me. I guess her point was It's none of your business, so get lost.
But something like that wasn't enough to make Yukinoshita back down. "If you need a reason to quit, here's a good one." Yukinoshita's gaze shifted from Kawasaki to the watch on her left wrist. "Ten forty… Cinderella would have a little over an hour left, but it seems your magic spell has already worn off."
"If my spell's worn off, doesn't that mean there's a happy ending waiting for me?"
"I don't know about that, little mermaid. I think what's waiting for you is a bad ending."
The way the two of them sniped back and forth was much like the atmosphere of the bar: It made you hesitant to step in. Their exchange of sarcastic quips and snide remarks came off like some high society pastime. Seriously, what was with all this nastiness between them? I thought this was the first time they'd ever spoken. The whole situation terrified me.
As these thoughts crossed my mind, I felt a tap on my shoulder and a whisper at my ear. "Hey, Hikki. What are they talking about?"
Oh, Yuigahama. Having a plebe like you here really does make me feel better…
Minors working past ten PM was a violation of labor laws. If she was still working at this hour, it meant that she'd been weaving the magic that is age misrepresentation. And that spell had been undone at Yukinoshita's hands. But even so, Kawasaki didn't seem particularly anxious.
"You have no intention of quitting?"
"Hmm? No. And even if I did quit this place, I could just work somewhere else." Kawasaki said nonchalantly as she polished a sake bottle with a cloth.
Perhaps that attitude irritated Yukinoshita a little, as she lightly tossed back her Perry. Or was it Harris?
The atmosphere tense and foreboding, Yuigahama timidly interjected. "U-um…Kawasaki, why are you working here? Um, like, 'cause I work when I'm broke, but I wouldn't work so late I'd have to lie about my age…"
"No reason. I just need the money." She put the sake bottle down with a quiet clink.
Well, of course. Most everyone works because they want the money. I'm sure there are some who work because the job is worthwhile or gives their lives meaning or whatever, but I don't know much about that. "Oh, you know, I get that," I said innocently, and Kawasaki's expression turned hard.
"There's no way you could understand. Nobody who'd write down such a bullshit career choice would." At some point, Kawasaki and I had met on the school rooftop, and that was when she'd seen my workplace tour application form. So she did remember.
"I was serious, though."
"Yeah, you were serious, and that means you're still just a kid. You don't know anything about life." Kawasaki tossed the cloth she'd been using on the counter and leaned against the wall. "You…no, not just you—Yukinoshita and Yuigahama wouldn't get it, either. I'm not working because I want money to party with. Don't lump me together with those idiots." Kawasaki's glare was intense. It was if her eyes were roaring, saying, Don't get in my way. But they were moist, too. Was that actually strength, though? I can't help thinking that people who yell, No one understands me! actually do want to be understood. That cry is their lament, a sign that they're giving up.
But look at Yukino Yukinoshita. Though no one understood her, she didn't bemoan it; she didn't give up. That was because, despite it all, she had this conviction that sticking to her principles is strength.
And Yui Yuigahama. She never gave up on trying to understand people. She didn't run away from that because she hoped that maintaining contact—even superficial contact—could be a trigger for change.
"Well, but, like, sometimes people don't understand until you talk to them about it, you know? We might be able to help you somehow… like… just talking might make you feel better…" Halfway in, Yuigahama's voice started to falter. Kawasaki's cold stare ripped her words apart.
"The fact that you said that only proves you guys will definitely never get it. Help me? Make me feel better? Okay then, can you get me some money? Can you take over the responsibilities my parents can't manage?"
"W-well…" Yuigahama looked down as if embarrassed. Kawasaki was too scary!
"Just stop right there. If you keep howling at us like that…,"
Yukinoshita snapped, her tone ice-cold. The way she'd trailed off just made the implied threat that much more frightening. What? What are you planning to do?
Kawasaki faltered for a moment, too, but then she clicked her tongue quietly and turned back to Yukinoshita. "Hey, your dad's a member of the prefectural assembly, isn't he? Someone that loaded could never understand my position." Her voice was subdued, almost a whisper, as if resigned.
Just as those words crossed Kawasaki's lips, I heard a glass topple over with a clatter and turned to find a champagne glass on its side with Perrier spilling out to form a puddle. Yukinoshita bit her lip, her gaze downcast and fixed to the counter. It was a look I'd hardly have expected to see on her.
Surprised, I studied her face. "Yukinoshita?"
"Huh? O-oh, sorry," she stammered, reverting to normal—no, now she was even more frigid and expressionless than usual as she calmly wiped the table with her moistened hand towel. This peculiar insight led me to infer that this subject was taboo for her. Now that I thought about it, she'd had that same expression not so long before… When I tried to remember when that was, though, a loud slap on the counter snapped me back into the moment.
"Hey! Yukinon's family is none of your business!" Yuigahama's tone was unusually assertive, and she had Kawasaki in her sights. She wasn't joking or fooling around; Yuigahama was pissed. So this is what she looks like mad…
Perhaps Yuigahama's sudden transformation from her usual breezy, ebullient self startled Kawasaki. Or maybe she just realized she'd crossed a line, but the edge in her voice softened a bit. "Then my family is none of your business, either."
Once she'd dropped that line, that was the end of it.
It was neither mine nor Yuigahama's business, and it was clearly none of Yukinoshita's. Even if Kawasaki was breaking the law, the ones who would take her to task for that would be her teachers and parents, and it was the law that would be judging her. We weren't even her friends. We couldn't do a single thing for her.
"You might be right, but that's not right! Not to Yukinon."
"Yuigahama. Calm down. I just knocked over a glass. It's nothing. Don't worry about it."
Yuigahama was leaning over the counter while Yukinoshita gently restrained her. Yukinoshita's voice was calmer than usual which just made it sound that much colder. Though it was already summer, the air felt chilly.
Well, that was it, then. It didn't look like Yukinoshita, Yuigahama, or Kawasaki could carry on a civil conversation. But we had learned a few things. Now we just had to do something about it. "Let's call it a day. I'm sleepy, frankly. Once I'm done with my drink, I'm gonna go." I still had over half my ginger ale left, though.
"You're such a—"
"C-come on, Yukinon. Let's go home for today?"
Yukinoshita sighed in exasperation and seemed like she wanted to say something, but Yuigahama stopped her. Yuigahama and I exchanged glances, and then she gave me a slight nod. Apparently, she'd also noticed that Yukinoshita was behaving oddly.
"Fine, I'll call it a day." Perhaps even Yukinoshita noticed she was frazzled, as she miraculously took my suggestion. She tossed a few bills on the counter without looking at the receipt and stood. Yuigahama followed suit.
I called after Yuigahama as they walked away. "Yuigahama, I'll e-mail you later."
"Huh? U-uh. Oh, um, okay… I'll be waiting, then." Perhaps it was the indirect lighting, but Yuigahama's face looked particularly red as she fidgeted with her hands in front of her chest before waving to me. That bearing is really incongruous with the classy vibe in here, so don't, okay?
After watching the two of them go, I took a sip from my glass and turned back to Kawasaki, moistened my throat a little before I spoke. "Kawasaki. Meet me tomorrow morning. Five thirty at the McD's by the school. Okay?"
"Huh? Why?" Kawasaki's attitude was even frostier than it had been before, but I was confident that what I had to say next would change her tune.
"I want to talk to you about something. It's about Taishi."
"What?" The look Kawasaki gave me was now less suspicious than it was openly hostile.
I avoided meeting her eyes by downing the rest of my ginger ale and then standing. "We'll talk about that tomorrow. See ya."
"Hey!"
I ignored her as she called after me, attempting to make my exit from the bar with the sort of style and class a joint like this deserved.
"Hey! You didn't pay enough!"
Hey, Yukinoshita. You didn't pay for me?
I silently slunk back to the counter and handed her my meager thousand-yen bill. She gave me back sixty yen in change. U-uh… I couldn't exactly ask why now, could I? One ginger ale cost me almost a thousand yen… Was there some kind of rush on ginger ale?
It was the next morning, but I hadn't slept. I was nodding off just past five AM at the McD's while sipping my second coffee. The sky was already bright, and sparrows were lighting on the ground, restlessly pecking at it and then flying up into the sky again.
After leaving the Hotel Royal Okura, we'd all gone home. When I got there, I asked Komachi to do a couple favors for me before heading out again to kill time here. I could have stayed at home and slept, but I wasn't sure I could actually wake up at five.
All this effort had been exerted to stay awake with a singular purpose in mind.
"So she came…"
I heard the sound of the automatic doors opening, and Saki Kawasaki appeared, sluggishly dragging her feet. "What did you want to talk about?" she asked. Maybe she was tired, as she seemed grumpier than usual. She was so intense that, for an instant, I felt the urge to get down on my hands and knees and grovel before her, but I suppressed the impulse and acted as calm and composed as possible.
"Hey, dalm cown. I mean calm down." I really fumbled with my words there. Pretending to be calm: gigantic fail. Kawasaki was just too scary; I couldn't even. But perhaps my slip-up had loosened me up a little because everything came out smoothly after that. "Everyone will be here in just a bit. Give them a little longer."
"Everyone?" Kawasaki's expression turned doubtful as I heard the automatic doors open again, and Yukinoshita and Yuigahama made their entrance.
Immediately after we'd parted ways the night before, I'd sent
Yuigahama a single e-mail saying that she should stay over at Yukinoshita's place that night, tell her parents where she was, and then come to the McD's by the school with Yukinoshita in the morning at five. The message had contained just those three bullets; a simple, bare bones business e-mail.
"You guys again?" Her demeanor saying she was fed up, Kawasaki sighed deeply.
But there was another grump in our midst. Yuigahama was pouting and wouldn't look at me.
"What, has she not slept enough?" I tried asking Yukinoshita, but she seemed perplexed as well.
"Who knows? I think she did, but…actually, I feel like she's been in a plainly foul mood since receiving your e-mail. Did you write something obscene?"
"Come on, will you stop treating me like a sex offender? And all I wrote were basic instructions to come here, so there wasn't anything for her to get upset about."
Yukinoshita and I swapped glances, and then Komachi hopped in between us. "Man, that's my brother, all right! He's got no tact when it comes to important stuff."
"Hey, Komachi. Can you not pop up out of nowhere just to put me down?"
"Bro, people usually use errands as an excuse to talk to someone. If you're all businesslike about it, it sounds like you don't want to talk to them."
"You invited your sister, too?" Yukinoshita asked, slightly surprised.
"Yeah, there's something I wanted her to do for me. Komachi, did you bring him?"
"Yep," Komachi chirped, pointing just a little ways off toward Taishi Kawasaki.
"Taishi…what are you doing here at this hour?" Her expression in a gray zone between anger and shock, Kawasaki glared at her little brother.
But Taishi held his ground. "At this hour? That's what I'd like to ask you, Sis. What have you been doing all night?"
"That's none of your business." Kawasaki refused to engage him and tried to cut the conversation off. But while those techniques might have worked on others, they were wasted on Taishi—he was family. Up until now, Kawasaki and Taishi had always been talking one-onone, so Kawasaki had had ample opportunities to evade him. She could do anything—end the conversation, or just walk away.
But now she couldn't do that. The rest of us encircled the two of them, and we definitely wouldn't let her get away. More than anything, she was restrained by the fact that it was morning and we were in public.
"It is my business. We're family."
"I'm saying you don't need to know," Kawasaki replied.
Taishi stood firm, and Kawasaki's voice grew weaker. But even so, it was clear that she wasn't going to talk to him. Considered from another angle, though, couldn't that mean that all of this was something that she specifically couldn't discuss with Taishi?
"Kawasaki, I can guess why you were working and needed money," I said, and she glared at me. Yukinoshita and Yuigahama considered me with deep interest.
Saki Kawasaki hadn't elaborated on why she'd gotten a job, but when you thought about it, the hints were there. She'd turned delinquent around the time she started her second year of high school, according to Taishi Kawasaki. And indeed, from his perspective, that was true. But that wasn't how it looked from Saki Kawasaki's vantage. From her point of view, she'd started working when her little brother entered his third year of middle school. That meant Taishi Kawasaki's circumstances were her impetus for getting a job.
"Taishi, has anything changed since you started your third year of middle school?"
"U-um… Just that I started going to cram school, I guess?" Taishi seemed quite perplexed as he racked his brains, but that was enough for me. Perhaps Kawasaki had already guessed what I was about to say because she was biting her lip and looked frustrated.
"I see. To pay for her brother's tuition—" Yuigahama seemed convinced, but I cut her off.
"No, Taishi was already going to his cram school in April, so that shouldn't have been an issue. His entrance fees and tuitions would already have been paid. Their family probably took that into account beforehand. So when you think about it, that means only Taishi's tuition got covered."
"Indeed. You're right; he isn't the only one who would need money." Apparently, Yukinoshita understood everything, as she turned sympathetically to Kawasaki.
Yes, our school, Soubu High, is higher education oriented. The majority of attendees either want to or are actually going to university. That meant more than a few students were thinking about entrance exams around this time during their second year while others were seriously considering taking summer courses. Both in preparation for as well as to actually go to college, you need money.
"Didn't Taishi say his sister had always been the kind and serious type? Basically, that's what's going on," I concluded, and Kawasaki's shoulders slumped weakly.
"Sis… I-it's because I'm going to cram school…"
"This is why I said you didn't have to know." She patted Taishi's head as if to comfort him.
Oh-ho! Apparently, this had all wrapped up with a nice, touching conclusion. Yeah, how nice, how nice. And they all lived happily ever after. Or so I thought, but Kawasaki was biting her lip again.
"But I still can't quit my job. I intend to go to college. I don't want to burden Taishi or my parents with that." Kawasaki's tone was sharp with clear determination. Her firm resolve eradicated Taishi's earlier assertiveness.
"Um…can I say something?" Komachi's happy-go-lucky voice broke the silence.
Kawasaki turned her head toward my sister as if she found this tiresome. "What?" Her expression and curt tone together made her seem almost hostile.
But Komachi ignored that, smiling brightly. "Well, both of our parents have always worked, too. So when I was little, I always came home to an empty house. I'd call, 'I'm home!' but nobody would answer."
"Come on, it'd be freaky if somebody did. What's with this random story time?"
"Oh, uh-huh. You be quiet for a bit, okay, Bro?"
Totally shut down, I had no choice but to shut my mouth and listen.
"So I didn't like going back home, and I ran away for about five days.
And then who came to find me? Not my parents, but my brother. And ever since then, he's come home earlier than me. So I'm grateful to him for that."
I'd been thinking, Oh, this brother sounds like such a great guy, before realizing it was me. This unexpected anecdote almost brought me to tears. My intention at the time hadn't been to keep her company. I'd just been going home early because I had no friends to hang out with and wanted to watch an anime that aired at six o'clock on TV Tokyo.
Kawasaki gave me a look reminiscent of something like empathy, and Yuigahama's eyes were a little damp.
Only Yukinoshita shook her head. "You only went home early because that's when you stopped having friends, isn't that right, Hikigaya?"
"Hey, how did you know that? Are you Yukipedia or what?"
"Oh, no, I'm totally aware of that," Komachi said with a bold nonchalance. "But I think putting it my way is worth more Komachi points."
Yuigahama opened her mouth, her expression weary. "You are
Hikki's sister, after all."
"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" She must have meant that I'm cute, too. Definitely.
"So what's your point?" Kawasaki demanded, irritated. Frankly, she was pretty terrifying, but Komachi faced her head on, her smile unbroken, as usual.
"He's a pretty crappy brother, but still, he'll never make me worry. And that's enough to make me feel grateful as his little sister. I'm happy about that. Oh, and that just now was worth a lot of Komachi points, too."
"Enough with this 'Komachi points' thing."
"Nooo. It's obviously just my way of hiding my shyness! Oh, that just there was also worth a lot of—"
"Enough, already, enough." Good grief. This is why I can't trust girls. My own sister spouts this stuff so casually.
When I indicated that I found her annoying, Komachi voiced her dissatisfaction with a murg. I decided not to engage with her, and she gave up and went back to talking to Kawasaki. "Well, in other words, just like you feel like you don't want to be a burden on your family, Taishi doesn't want to be a burden on you, you know? I think if you understood that, he'd be happy as a younger sibling."
Kawasaki was silent. And so was I. Oh man, just what was this feeling? I'd had no idea that Komachi felt that way. She was usually a constant burden, so I hadn't noticed at all.
"Yeah, I'm kind of like that, too," Taishi added softly. He looked away, his face red. Kawasaki stood and softly stroked Taishi's head. Her smiling face was very slightly softer than her usual languid expression.
But still, the issue hadn't been resolved. All that had happened was that Saki and Taishi Kawasaki's relationship had been mended and they were talking again. Just because you're emotionally fulfilled doesn't mean everything else is fine. Material wealth may be fleeting, but that doesn't mean it's worthless. Money and goods are necessary, after all.
Money problems are a harsh thing for high school students to deal with. You feel that all the more keenly if you even start trying to earn some pocket money with a part-time job. Then you can calculate how many hours you have to work to make the millions of yen it takes to pay tuition at a private university. It would've been cool if we could have handed over a million or two right there just like that, but we didn't have that kind of money. Most importantly, though, that would have been counter to the principles of the Service Club.
At some point, Yukinoshita had said it: You don't give someone a fish; you teach them how to fish.
So instead, I'd offer her my plan for making big money fast.
"Kawasaki. Do you know about scholarships?"
The air at five thirty in the morning was still unpleasantly cold. I saw off the two retreating shapes as I yawned. They stayed a fixed distance from each other, and if one got ahead, the other slowed its pace until the first caught up. Occasionally, I could see their shoulders shaking as if they were laughing boisterously.
"Is that what siblings are like?" Yukinoshita asked with a sigh in the morning mist.
"I dunno. Doesn't it depend on the person? They do call them 'the closest stranger.'" There are actually times when Komachi makes me so legitimately angry that I want to punch her, and those times don't feel like me at all. But then at another random moment, she'll do exactly the same thing, and it fills me with feelings of love and affection. Honestly, I think maybe with siblings, they always feel distant in a way you can't quite grasp. That's why I think the phrase the closest stranger is oddly fitting. Even though they're the closest, they're a stranger, and though they're a stranger, they're still closest.
"The closest stranger…indeed. I understand that quite well." Yukinoshita nodded, but then she never raised her head.
"Yukinon?" Puzzled, Yuigahama quietly peered into Yukinoshita's face.
Yukinoshita immediately jerked her head up and gave Yuigahama a smile. "Come on, let's go back as well. Another three hours, and it will be time for school."
"Y-yeah…" Yuigahama's expression said she wasn't fully satisfied with that response, but she nodded and turned the bag over her shoulder toward her back.
I unlocked my bicycle, too. "Yeah. Komachi, wake up." I slapped her cheeks lightly where she was sitting, nodding off on the green rock in front of the McD's. She mumbled something mumbly and rubbed her eyes. She stood up and took swaying steps over to my bike like a ghost and then sat down on the back. She would usually still be sleeping at this time. Oh well, today I'd ride slowly along even pavement. I threw a leg over my bike and put my foot on the pedal. "I'm going home, then. See ya."
"Yeah, I guess it isn't see you tomorrow, huh? See you at school today." Yuigahama waved her hand a little in front of her chest.
Yukinoshita stayed silent, watching Komachi and me with a vacant expression, but as I was about to pedal off, she said quietly, "I rather disapprove of two riding a bicycle, but…be careful not to get into another accident."
"Yeah, see ya," I replied and started pedaling. I was so sleepdeprived, my head wasn't working right, and it was occupied pretty much to capacity just keeping an eye on oncoming traffic and the condition of the ground below us. My weariness meant that I'd only offered a vague, offhanded response to Yukinoshita. I guess I'd told her about that accident, then…?
I rode slowly along a route that crossed Highway 14. The oncoming wind that always got in my face on my way to school was now at my back. While waiting at the second light, a fragrant smell from a bakery at the intersection greeted me. My stomach rumbled. "Komachi, do you want me to get us some pastries?"
"What?! You dummy, Bro. What you're supposed to do is either pretend you didn't notice or just casually stop by the bakery without asking! I'm hungry, so I'll go, though!!"
As she pounded her fists on my back, I turned my bike toward the bakery and started pedaling.
"Agh… You really are a crappy brother. If I knew you were gonna do this, I wouldn't have said all that nice stuff about you."
"Hey, that wasn't nice stuff about me. At the end, it was just about you turning into a good girl. And plus, it was mostly made up."
"Yeah, that's true," Komachi admitted, and she stopped punching me. "But I really am thankful." With that, she wrapped her arms around my waist and squeezed me tight, burying her face in my back.
"Is that worth a lot of Komachi points, too?"
"Tsk. So you could tell," Komachi pouted, but her arms remained firmly around my waist. The cold morning wind slowly eroded our body heat. Feeling her pleasant warmth against me, sleepiness gradually took hold. I guessed I would be late again today, too. Feeling like this, I could probably have slept well once I got home. It wasn't so bad having a friendly brother-sister late day once in a while.
"But I'm glad you got to meet, though," Komachi said behind me.
"Huh? What're you talking about?" My expression was probably suspicious.
Komachi couldn't see my face, though, and she kept talking. "You know, the sweets person. You should've told me you already met her. Aw, isn't that nice, Bro! Thanks to that broken bone, you got to know a cute girl like Yui."
"Oh, yeah, I guess…" I thrust out my foot mechanically to step on the pedal. It was an almost entirely unconscious motion with no feeling in it at all. That was why the moment feelings got interjected, the action went awry. My body suddenly swayed with a jerk, and pain radiated through my shin. "Aghh!"
"Tsk, tsk, tsk, what's with that? I've never seen anyone miss a pedal before." Komachi whined and complained, but this wasn't the time.
What did she just say? Yuigahama was the sweets person?
The sweets person was neither a familiar face from chuugen using the holiday to repay a debt with candy nor the Purple Rose. It was someone from my past. The day of my high school entrance ceremony, I got into a traffic accident. On my way to school, there'd been a girl walking her dog nearby, and her dog had gotten off its leash. Then at the worst possible moment, an expensive-looking limo rolled up. I saved that dog's life and broke a bone in the process. I was in the hospital for about three weeks starting from the first day of school, and that sealed my fate as a loner from day one of high school. The owner of the dog was this "sweets person" Komachi was talking about.
"What's wrong, Bro?" Komachi eyed me worriedly, but all I could do was give her a vague grin. I'd been thinking a little bit about a bunch of stuff.
I laughed at myself in mild self-deprecation. "It's nothing. Let's get some pastries and go home," I said, starting to pedal, but inexplicably, the pedals spun around and hit me in the shin again.
5 Hachiman Hikigaya goes back the way he came again.
Exam week was over, the weekend had passed, and it was Monday again. This was the day the exam results would be distributed. All we did in class that day was get our exams back and listen to each teacher go over the problems. At the end of each subject, Yuigahama would make her way to my desk to report her results. "Hikki! My grades in Japanese history went up! That study party really was awesome after all," she declared, rather exhilarated.
I, however, was less enthusiastic. "That's great."
"Yeah! Man, this is all thanks to Yukinon! And you, too, Hikki," Yuigahama said, but frankly, I hadn't done anything. There was no way that single study session could have given her instant results. Studying together like that was fundamentally pointless. So if Yuigahama was getting better grades, it was probably due to her own efforts.
As for my exam results, as usual, I had fiercely defended third place in Japanese. Nine percent in math. Hey, what's a recurrence formula? It sounds like some technobabble Zaimokuza would come up with.
Not only was that the day we were getting our exam results back, it also happened to be the day of our long-looming workplace tour. When lunch hour rolled around, all the students were sent off to visit the workplaces they'd selected.
Where we were headed was Kaihin-Makuhari Station. The area had quite the office district and, surprisingly, even some head offices. It was also the same shopping district I'd gotten to know the other evening. They didn't call it Makuhari New City Center for nothing. You could actually call this place the capital of Chiba.
I was in a group with Totsuka and Hayama. Or rather, I was supposed to be. But when we actually got there, a bunch of people were crowding around Hayama. What was this guy, a feudal lord?
Well, I hadn't intended to go with Hayama in the first place, anyway, so I looked around for Totsuka, figuring I'd stroll around with him and pretend we were on a date. Totsuka, though, had his own small entourage of girls. This gaggle was so intense that anyone who didn't know what a timid guy Totsuka was would think he was being bullied.
With Hayama, there were three boys who were supposed to constitute a separate group as well as Miura's clique. I caught sight of Yuigahama with them, too. My attempt at a sporadic headcount told me about five groups had arrived at our site.
I wasn't really good with crowds. Sometimes when I went out on weekends, I ended up wanting to go home just because there were a lot of people around. So naturally, I ended up just trailing along at the heels of their group. Good old Hachiman, taking rear guard. If I were a general of the Warring States period, this would be deserving of a medal of honor.
We—or rather, Hayama—had picked some familiar-sounding electronics manufacturer. The location wasn't just the office building and research facility; there was also an adjacent museum. The company even had the perfect entertainment draw: The museum had a theater with a full 360-degree movie screen. If Hayama had picked this place randomly, he either was just lucky or had been born with some amazing intuition. If he'd chosen this place deliberately, though, anticipating the throngs of hangers-on, I was impressed by his consideration.
For me, though, the mecha-style exhibits were what held the most appeal, perfect for a loner. I was like a kid pining for a trumpet on the other side of the display window. Just pressing myself up against the glass and gazing at the machines whirring about excited for me.
The phrase we are not machines was likely originally coined by people resisting authoritarian control and sentences of hard labor, but it's still absolutely true. We are not machines. That's why sometimes cogs like me show up: they don't fit in with the other parts, and you're not quite sure what to use them for. If this were a model car, I'd call Tamiya about it.
But in reality, these kinds of extraneous parts do exist in machines. It's what's commonly referred to as play. This is what you call stuff like an extra length of chain or excess gear ratio. These things give the machine a bit of flexibility and apparently extend its service life. One of the researchers said that today. That both machines and humans need play.
Not that I ever got invited over to play, though…
Keeping a moderate distance from the group, I went to tour the machines. Boys and girls were having fun chattering and joking around with each other in front of me. Had I turned around, though, there'd have been no one behind me. The vacant space behind me was so utterly silent it hurt.
But the hard sound of heels clicking on the floor broke that silence. "Hikigaya. So you came." Miss Hiratsuka was, uncharacteristically, not wearing her white coat. It was probably because if she had worn it here, she'd have been indistinguishable from staff, making things confusing.
"Patrolling?"
"Yeah, something like that," the teacher replied, but her attention wasn't fixed on the students at all. That was wholly devoted to the mecha-esque machines. "Phew… Japanese technology is amazing, huh? I wonder if they'll make a Gundam in my lifetime."
She really did have the brain of a little boy. She had this enchanted look in her eyes gazing at the steel bodywork, as if she was falling in love. Come on, please get yourself a real relationship, seriously.
I started to stroll with the thought that perchance I'd just leave her in my wake, but apparently, Miss Hiratsuka had noticed the sound of my footsteps, as she strode up beside me, matching my stride. "Oh, that reminds me, Hikigaya. About that contest…"
The contest… She meant the Service Club competition Yukinoshita and I had going over who would help the greater number of people. The winner would get to order the loser to do whatever they pleased.
Even though she was the one who'd broached the subject, Miss Hiratsuka hesitated. I prompted her to continue with a glance. She steeled herself and pressed on. "There was too much interference from variable elements, and the current framework isn't manageable. So I think I'll change some of the specifications." The way she put it made it made it sound like the kind of excuse a video game maker would give, but basically, it sounded like the teacher was overwhelmed and running around with too much on her plate.
"I'm fine with that." Either way, Miss Hiratsuka was the rulebook for this contest. I could protest, but her rules would change when they changed. The standards of the competition would be arbitrary and biased, anyway. Resistance was futile. "Have you decided on anything specific?"
"No… There's just one kid I'm having trouble dealing with," she said, scratching her head.
Hearing trouble dealing with brought Yuigahama suddenly to mind. The Service Club had originally been just me and Yukinoshita. Yuigahama had joined after that. Her presence could be called irregular. She was unquestionably the "variable element" Miss Hiratsuka had referred to. She hadn't been part of the original plan, and yet now she was central to the Service Club. Then I supposed the competition would now be among the three of us: Yukinoshita, Yuigahama, and me.
"Huh… It looks like Mecha Mecha Road ends here," the teacher said.
What the heck was Mecha Mecha Road?
"Once I've come up with some new specifications, I'll update you. Come on, I won't sabotage your chances," Miss Hiratsuka teased, grinning brightly. I've only ever heard that line from villains, though… Miss Hiratsuka eased back down the Mecha Mecha Road from whence she came. I watched her go and then headed toward the exit.
Miss Hiratsuka had chewed my ear a little too long. Hayama and the others were already gone, and the empty bamboo thicket swayed in the early-summer wind, rustling like a flood of whispers. As the western sky began growing orange, I looked around the empty entrance area and found a familiar bun there. Unfortunately.
She was sitting on a big green rock, her knees drawn up as she occasionally fiddled with her cell phone. For an instant, I wondered if I should really talk to her. While I vacillated, though, she noticed me. "Oh, Hikki, you're slow! Everyone already left!"
"Oh, yeah. Sorry, my robot soul got excited in there. So where did this 'everyone' go?"
"Saize." High schoolers in Chiba really do like Saize, huh? They're a little too biased to it, in my opinion, even if the family restaurant chain did originate in Chiba. It's amazingly cheap, and the food is good, though.
"You're not going?"
"Huh?! Oh, well, like, I was sort of waiting for you, ish. Um…it's, like, I'd just feel sorta bad if you got left behind…" Yuigahama glanced at me, tapping her pointer fingers together in front of her chest.
Her fidgeting made me smile. "You're a nice person, Yuigahama."
"Huh?! Uh, what? N-no, not really." The sun was in the west, so maybe that was why Yuigahama's face looked red as she violently flailed her hands to signal no.
I don't know why she was denying it. I still thought she was nice. I considered her a good person. That was why I felt like I should let her know. "Listen, you don't have to worry about me. It was just a coincidence that I saved your dog, and even if it hadn't been for that accident, I'd probably still be a loner in high school, anyway. There's absolutely no need for you to feel awkward about it. I guess I'm kind of burning myself saying this, though." I really was burning myself, but given that this was about me, I knew it better than anyone. I'd probably never have been surrounded by friends, even if I'd started my high school career normally. No, definitely never.
"H-Hikki… You…remembered?" Yuigahama opened her big eyes wide and stared at me, her face full of shock.
"No, I don't remember. But I heard you came to our house once to say thanks. Komachi told me."
"Oh…Komachi, huh…?" she tittered, that shallow smile on her face again as she quietly looked down.
"Sorry. I guess I've actually made you weirdly careful around me. Well, from now on, you don't have to worry about it. I'm the reason I'm a loner, anyway, and the accident had nothing to do with it.
There's no need for you to feel indebted to me or feel sorry for me… If that's why you're being nice to me, then just stop." I was aware that my tone had gotten a little rough. Oh, this isn't good. What am I getting so touchy for? This kind of thing isn't important at all. I scratched my head to conceal my irritation. An oppressive silence flowed between us. This was the first time I'd ever found silence unpleasant. "So, uh, like…" Though I'd been inclined to open my mouth, I couldn't find the words, and nothing definite came out.
Both of us at a loss for words, Yuigahama smiled faintly. "W-well, I dunno, but…it's not really like that, though. It's more like…like… It's just not like that…" Still smiling, she looked down awkwardly. With her face turned away, I couldn't see her expression anymore. I could only hear her thin voice shaking a little. "That's…not it… It's not…" Yuigahama trailed off, her voice quiet.
Yui Yuigahama was always kind, and she'd probably be kind until the end.
If the truth is cruel, the surely lies are kind. That's why kindness is a lie.
"Oh, well, you know," I began, and Yuigahama glared at me. There were tears in her eyes, but her gaze was strong and unwavering. I was the one who looked away.
"You jerk." Leaving that remark behind, Yuigahama ran off, but once she was a few meters away, her steps became heavier, like she was trudging along.
I watched her go, then spun away from her again.
Maybe Yuigahama was going to Saize where all her friends were waiting. But that had nothing to do with me. I hate crowds, anyway. I also hate nice girls. They follow you around everywhere, like the moon above in the night sky, but they're always unreachable. But I can't keep them at a distance like I should. Just a simple exchange lingers in my mind. If we e-mail each other, I feel unsettled. If one calls me, I'll dwell on my call history and feel my face falling into a grin.
But I know…I know that they're just being nice. People who are nice to me are nice to others, too, and I feel as if I might forget that. I'm not dense. I'm actually pretty perceptive. Sensitive, even. And that causes an allergic reaction in me.
I've been through this sort of situation before. An experienced loner doesn't fall for the same trick twice. Confessions of love as part of a punishment for losing at rock-paper-scissors don't work on me, and neither do fake love letters from a girl written by boys. I'm a hardened veteran schooled in a hundred battles. I'm the best when it comes to losing.
Always having these expectations, always getting the wrong idea, constantly hoping… I've given up on all that.
That's why I'll always hate nice girls.
Afterword
Hello, this is Wataru Watari.
Recently, I've been thinking back on my youth, but my memories are so faint, I've been having trouble with it. That's probably because there were nothing but unpleasant memories, and I don't want to remember any of it, but also perhaps because those memories are still too close to be reflecting on just yet. It's been years since I graduated from high school, so it's not chronologically close, but rather, emotionally too close, I think.
Let me compare how I was back then and how I am now. It's like this:
In high school: Late 1,100 times in three years. Late so often that they called my parents to school to talk about it. Thinking in the future I'd like to marry a rich, beautiful woman and lead a life of indulgence and depravity. Had a high probability of skipping on rainy days.
Midtwenties: Late so often that they called me out at work to talk about it. Thinking in the future I'd like to marry a rich, beautiful woman and lead a life of indulgence and depravity. Forget rainy days; I don't get much writing done even if it's sunny.
I really haven't lost my boyish spirit, man. Wow.
When I think about it, I figure maybe being a boy is about always acting like you're in the middle of your youth. So I think I can keep dragging around the feelings of awkwardness, jealousy, and inferiority from my high school years, keep occasionally getting drunk on baseless confidence, keep maintaining the incomprehensible contradiction that is I'm the best at feeling inferior. I've got, like, a superiority complex about it, and keep writing the things I've dreamed of writing forever.
But there are still things that are most definitely lost to me forever… I wanted to go on a date with a high school girl in uniform… Now then, for the acknowledgments.
Holy Ponkan . Thank you so much for your wonderful illustrations in Vol. 2 as well. Yui is so cute on the cover that I started doing a Yuinique dance in celebration. I will offer prayers to you a full five times a day.
My editor, Hoshino. I've been causing all sorts of trouble for you for Vol. 2, too, but somehow you managed everything for me. I plan to continue causing trouble for you, so please keep working hard. Thank you very much.
Manta Aisora. You wrote some comments on the obi of this book even though you didn't know me, and for that, I am grateful. Also, thank you for sending me chocolates. Those delicious morsels are what enabled me to write this.
My family, especially my father. Thank you for all your hard work over the years. You working yourself to the bone has enabled me to be a writer. Please take it easy, enjoy your life, and live a long one. Also, I don't think our cat likes me at all. Maybe it's just my imagination, though.
All my readers. Your support for My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong, As I Expected (also known by the abbreviation Oregairu) is the reason I was able to publish Vol. 2. I'm really happy about this. Thank you very much. I will try my very best to write a third volume that you will all enjoy.
And now I shall say something conclusive and set down my pen here. Once you start running, you can't stop; it's because you've got momentum! And the same happens with teen rom-coms. I hope you will stay with me for the next volume, too.
A certain day in June,
A certain place in Chiba,
While eating a plain Italian gelato with relish,