I left class after homeroom to find Ms. Hiratsuka waiting for me. Her
arms were crossed, and she was drawn up to her full height, looking
exactly like a prison guard. A military uniform and a whip would suit
her to a T. Well, school is basically like a prison, so it's not really
much of a leap to imagine her wearing that. She's like something out
of Alcatraz or Cassandra. Why couldn't a Savior of Century's End
show up right about now?
"Hikigaya. It's club time," she announced, and I suddenly felt my
blood drain away. Oh, crap. She's taking me to the slammer. If she's
escorting me to the clubroom, I'm really gonna start despairing about
my life at this school. Yukinoshita is a natural-born condescender. She
doesn't just have a sharp tongue. What she says is verbal abuse,
plain and simple. She's not tsundere. She's just an unpleasant
woman.
But Ms. Hiratsuka exercised no sympathy for me as she gave me a
cold, robotic smile. "Let's go," she said, trying to take my arm. When I deftly dodged her grab, her arm shot out again, and I slipped away
from that, too.
"Um, you know, on the grounds that a school education values
students' autonomy and promotes their independence, I think I
really must object to this show of force."
"Unfortunately, school is actually a place where you're trained to
conform to society. Once you go out into the world, your opinion
means nothing. Get used to compulsion now." No sooner had she
said that than her fist flew at me. It hit me in the stomach with a
penetrating thud, knocking the wind out of me.
Taking advantage of my immobility, Ms. Hiratsuka grabbed my arm.
"You know what'll happen the next time you try to run, right? Don't
cause any more trouble for my fist."
"You've already decided to punch me again?" I can't handle any
more pain.
Once we started walking, the warden opened her mouth as if just
remembering something. "Oh yeah. If you run away again, I'll declare
your competition with Yukinoshita forfeit, period, with additional
punishment tacked on for good measure. Don't fool yourself into
thinking you'll be able to graduate on time."
She's totally screwing with both my future and my mental health.
Heels clicking on the floor, Ms. Hiratsuka strode along beside me.
Looking at the two of us in a certain way, though, her hand on my
arm kind of made her look like a call girl cosplaying as a teacher as
we left a club where she'd picked me up for a date.
There were three ways in which this scenario wasn't like that. First, I
hadn't paid her. Second, she wasn't resting her hand on my arm; she
was twisting my elbow as far as it would go. Finally, I wasn't happy or
in the least bit excited. The tip of my elbow was brushing the teacher's boob, but even that wasn't doing it for me. She was taking
me to that clubroom.
"Um, I'm not gonna run away or anything, so I'm okay on my own. I
mean, I'm always alone, anyway. I'm totally fine on my own. I can't
relax if I'm not on my own."
"Don't say such lonely things. I want to go with you." She gave a
sudden—verging on kind—smile. It was completely different from
her usual leering smirk, and this abrupt departure from the norm set
my heart beating a little faster. "I'd rather escort you, no matter how
much you hate it, than end up grinding my teeth because you got
away. It's less psychological stress for me this way."
"What a terrible reason!"
"What are you talking about? If you don't want to go, there's nothing
I can do about that, but I'm taking you to this club right now for your
sake. So you can be corrected. This is the beautiful love between a
teacher and her student."
"This is love? If this is love, I don't need it."
"Despite that sad excuse you used to try to get away, you really are
twisted. Maybe you're so twisted up, it reversed all your meridians.
Don't go building a Holy Emperor Cross Mausoleum or something."
You like your manga just a little too much, don't you?
"You'd be cuter if you were a little less contrary. It can't be very
much fun, having such a backward view of the world."
"Life isn't just about fun. If it were, there wouldn't be any sad
Hollywood movies. There is such a thing as finding pleasure in
tragedy, you know."
"Classic Hikigaya. Many young people have a distorted worldview,
but you take it to a pathological level. It's like that special affliction
kids get after their first year of high school… You have a full-blown case of second-year head swell." Beaming, Ms. Hiratsuka diagnosed
my condition.
"Wow, that's kind of mean, treating me like I'm diseased. And what
the heck is 'second-year head swell' even supposed to mean?"
"You like manga and anime, right?" Ms. Hiratsuka changed the
subject, ignoring my request for an explanation.
"I guess I don't hate them."
"Why do you like them?"
"Well…they're part of Japanese culture and recognized as a form of
pop culture we can take pride in on a global level, so it would be
unnatural to not acknowledge their relevance. The market for it has
expanded, too, so they're also important from an economic
perspective."
"Mm-hmm. So what about regular arts and literature? Do you like
Keigo Higashino or Koutarou Isaka?"
"I read them, but frankly, I prefer their work from before they got
popular."
"What light novel imprints do you like?"
"Gagaga and Kodansha BOX. Well, I don't know if the latter counts as
an imprint or not. What's with the interrogation?"
"Mm-hmm… It's just as I expected—and I mean that in a bad way.
You've got a serious case of second-year HS." My would-be
diagnostician regarded me with dismay.
"Like I said, what the heck is that?"
"Second-year head swell is just what it sounds like. It's a frame of
mind common among high school students. They think that being
twisted is cool and have a tendency to parrot ideas popularized on
the Internet, like 'Get a job and you lose!' and the like. They claim they were fans of popular authors 'before they got famous.' They
disparage things everyone else loves and applaud the obscure.
What's more, they look down on their fellow nerds. They wield
twisted logic while simultaneously projecting an aura of having
achieved a bizarre sort of enlightenment. In a word, they're dicks."
"I'm a dick…? Damn it! It's basically all true! I can't even argue!"
"Oh, that was a compliment, though. Students these days are really
good at separating themselves from reality. As a teacher, I can't
manage it all. I feel like I'm working in a factory."
"Students these days, huh?" A sarcastic smile slipped out of me. Here
come the clichés. I considered casually overturning her argument out
of boredom.
Ms. Hiratsuka looked me right in the eye and shrugged. "You look
like you have something to say about that, but that kind of behavior
is exactly what indicates you have the disease."
"Is that right?"
"Don't get the wrong idea here. This is all sincere praise. I like you.
You haven't given up on thinking. Even if it is twisted thinking."
Hearing the words I like you got me a little choked up, putting me at
a loss for words. I struggled to come up with a retort to that
unfamiliar phrase.
"So from your twisted perspective, how do you see Yukino
Yukinoshita?"
"She's a jerk," I replied instantly. I believed so strongly that she was a
jerk that it was as if she'd told me, I think you should give up on
"Concrete Road."
"I see." Ms. Hiratsuka smiled wryly. "She's an incredibly gifted
student, though… I suppose the elites of the world must have their
own problems to deal with, too. But she's a very nice girl."
In what universe?! I mentally clicked my tongue.
"I'm sure she's ill in some way, too. She's kind and generally in the
right. But the world is unkind and full of wrongs. It must be hard for
her to live in it."
"Aside from the part where she's kind and in the right, I'm mostly in
agreement with you about the world," I said, and my teacher gave
me a look that said, I know, right?
"You…you kids really are twisted after all. There are parts of you that
I don't think will conform well to society, and that worries me. That's
why I want to gather all of you in one place."
"That club is an isolation ward?!"
"You could say that. I like watching you students; you entertain me.
So perhaps I just want to keep you close at hand."
Smiling merrily, she twisted my arm, which was becoming habitual.
Maybe she'd gotten that MMA-esque move from some manga. My
elbow occasionally touched her voluptuous bust while emitting a
horrible creaking noise.
Phew… With my arm twisted so far, even I'd have had trouble
slipping away from her. It was frustrating, but I had no choice but to
placate myself with the sensation for a little while longer.
Yes, indeed. It really was too bad.
It occurred to me that boobs came in pairs, so shouldn't bust be a
plural, like busts?
.
.
.
.
Once we got to the special-use building, I guess Ms. Hiratsuka wasn't
worried about me running away anymore, so she finally released me.
But even then, as she was walking out, she glanced back at me. Her
look didn't say she wanted to see me a little longer or that she didn't want to leave me. There was no trace of any of that. No, the
impression I got was one of pure murderous intent as though
warning, If you even try to run, you know what'll happen, right?
Smiling bitterly, I walked down the hallway. The corner of the
special-use building was as still as death, with a chilly draft flowing
through it.
Though there had to have been other clubs engaging in their
activities at the time, their noise apparently didn't carry this far. I
don't know if that was because of the location or a result of the
mysterious aura emanating from Yukino Yukinoshita.
I put my hand on the door to slide it open. To be honest, my heart
felt heavy, but it would have bothered me to run away simply
because of that. Basically, I just had to not give a crap about anything
she said. I wouldn't think of us as two people in a room together. It
was instead one person and one other person. I wouldn't feel
awkward or uncomfortable if she were a total stranger to me.
Today I would be initiating "Being Alone Isn't Scary" strategy number
one: If you see a stranger, think of them as a stranger. By the way,
there is no strategy number two. Essentially, I think that awkward
feeling is caused by looming thoughts like I have to talk about
something or I have to be friends with this person. I mean, when you
sit down on a train next to someone, you'd never think, Oh man,
we're all alone! This is so awkward! If I approached it that way, she'd
give up. She would just sit quietly and read her book.
When I opened the door to the clubroom, Yukinoshita looked exactly
the same as she had the day before, sitting there reading.
I opened the door but didn't know what to say to her. I just made a
small bow and walked toward her.
Yukinoshita regarded me briefly and then went back to her
paperback.
"I'm this close, right here in front of you, and you're going to ignore
me?"
She was so committed to ignoring me, I wondered for a moment if
I'd turned into air. This was exactly how I felt in class every day.
"What a strange greeting. What tribe are you from?"
"…Good afternoon." Unable to endure her sarcasm, the greeting
drilled into me since preschool popped out of my mouth, and when it
did, Yukinoshita smiled.
I think this was the first time she'd ever smiled at me. It taught me
some useless factoids—like that when she smiles, she gets dimples
and her canines poke out a little bit.
"Good afternoon. I thought you wouldn't come again."
Frankly, I think that smile was foul play. Foul play on the level of
Maradona's Hand of God. In other words, in the end, I had no choice
but to accept it. "I-I just came because if I'd run away, I'd have lost
the competition! D-don't get the wrong idea!" That was a slightly
rom-com-ish exchange. But usually, the positions of the guy and the
girl are reversed. This wasn't right.
Yukinoshita didn't appear particularly offended by my statement.
Rather, she just kept on talking as if unconcerned that I'd replied at
all. "I think getting dressed down that badly would stop the average
person from ever coming again. Are you a masochist?"
"No!"
"A stalker, then?"
"Not that, either! Hey, why are these guesses based on the
assumption that I like you?"
"You don't?" The jerk just nonchalantly tilted her head to the side, a
baffled expression on her face. It was kind of cute but not worth the
cost of this exchange.
"No way! Even I'm turned off by your massive ego."
"Oh? I got the impression that you liked me," she said, her
expression cold and neutral as always, showing no surprise.
It's true: Yukinoshita did have a cute face. She was so cute that even
someone like me, who didn't have a single friend in this school, knew
about her. There was no doubt she was one of the hottest girls in
school.
But even so, her ego was abnormal.
"What kind of upbringing makes you believe such naive bullcrap?
Was every day your birthday? Was your boyfriend Santa Claus?" It
would've had to be something like that for her to have developed
such a relentlessly optimistic brain. If she continued down this path,
she was sure to meet a sorry end. She had to correct that trajectory
before she did something that couldn't be undone.
Against my better judgment, the human kindness inside me stirred. I
chose my words carefully to soften the blow. "Yukinoshita. You're
abnormal. Don't think otherwise. Get a lobotomy or something."
"You should be a little more tactful. For your own good." Yukinoshita
snickered as she looked at me, but her eyes weren't smiling…
Terrifying. To her credit, she didn't call me garbage or trash or
whatever. Frankly, if her face wasn't so cute, I would most certainly
have been punching it. "Well, from the perspective of an inferior
being such as yourself, I may seem abnormal, but to me, this is the
epitome of common sense. Experience has taught me that I am
right." Yukinoshita proudly threw out her chest and chuckled smugly.
It's funny. That bearing is quite attractive on her.
"Experience, huh…?" Her putting it that way made me think she must
indeed have had a Santa Claus boyfriend. Her appearance alone was
enough to convince me of it.
"You must be having such a fun time at school, then," I muttered
with a sigh.
Yukinoshita twitched. "I-indeed I am. Quite frankly, my time here has
wanted for neither too much nor too little of anything. It's been a
very placid experience," she said, but for some reason, she was
facing the other way. And thanks to that pose, I gathered another
fatally useless factoid: the gentle line from her chin to her neck was
rather beautiful.
Watching her, I belatedly realized something. I think if I'd been
calmer, I would have noticed it right away, though. It was completely
impossible for such a naturally condescending egotist to construct
normal human relationships, and thus, it was impossible that her life
at school could be going as smoothly as she claimed.
Let's just ask her about that…
"Hey. You have any friends?" I inquired.
Yukinoshita averted her gaze. "Well, first, can you define exactly
what constitutes a 'friend'?"
"Oh, never mind. Only someone who has no friends would ask that."
Source: me.
Honestly, though, I didn't know what exactly counted as a friend,
either. I think it's about time someone explains to me how it's
different from an acquaintance. Are you friends if you meet someone
once and siblings if you see them everyday? Mi-Do-Fa-Do-Re-Si-So-
La-O? Why is "O" the only part of that name that isn't a note in the
musical scale? Details matter, damn it!
The designations used to differentiate friends and acquaintances are
pretty suspect to begin with. It's especially striking with girls. Even
when you're in the same class, I feel like you have to rank them as classmates, friends, or best friends. So then where do you draw the
line between those categories?
But let's get back on topic.
"Well, I can see you having no friends, so yeah, never mind."
"I didn't say I have none, now did I? Even if I didn't have any, it
wouldn't necessarily be disadvantageous."
"Oh, okay. Of course. Yeah, yeah." I smoothly brushed aside her
excuse as she glowered at me. "But, like, how do you have no friends
if everybody likes you?"
Yukinoshita looked indignant. Then she turned away, seemingly
displeased, and opened her mouth. "I'm sure you wouldn't
understand." Her cheeks were slightly puffed out as she fixed her
gaze in the opposite direction.
Well, Yukinoshita and I are completely different individuals, so I
wouldn't understand what she was feeling, not in the slightest. Even
if she were to tell me, I'm sure it would be difficult to grasp. No
matter how far you go, in the end, people can never really
understand one another.
But on this subject, on solitude… This is the one area in which I think
I could relate to her.
"Well, it's not like I don't see your point. You can have fun on your
own. I'm actually disgusted by the idea that a person can't be alone."
…
Yukinoshita considered me for an instant before flicking her gaze
away again and closing her eyes. She seemed to be thinking about
something.
"You're alone because you want to be, so it's irritating when people
pity you for it. I get that, I get that."
"Where does an inferior entity like you get off treating me like one of
your own? It's quite vexing," she complained, trying to dispel her
irritation by combing back her hair.
"Well, though you and I are people of a very different caliber, I can
sympathize with the sentiment of being alone because you want to
be. Though it pains me to say so," she added, grinning in mild self-
deprecation. It was a slightly dark but also peaceful smile.
"What do you mean, 'people of a different caliber'? I have a very
informed opinion on the art of aloneness. I'm so informed, you could
even call me the Master Loner. The idea that someone like you could
preach about being a loner is actually absurd."
"What's this…? Suddenly you come across as such a strong,
reliable—if slightly sorrowful—man." Yukinoshita gaped at me with
shock and surprise on her face.
Satisfied to have elicited that reaction from her, I continued
triumphantly, "You can't call yourself lonely. Everyone loves you.
You're a disgrace to real loners."
Suddenly, Yukinoshita's expression morphed into a derisive smile.
"What a simplistic notion. Do you operate purely off reflexes from
your spinal cord? Do you even know what it's like, having people like
you? Oh, I forgot. You've never experienced that. I should have taken
that into consideration. I'm sorry."
"If you're going to bother being considerate, at least see it through
to the end." I guess this is what they call fake politeness. She really is
a serious jerk.
"So what's it like having everyone like you, then?" I asked.
Yukinoshita closed her eyes briefly to consider. With great effort, she
cleared her throat and opened her mouth. "As a person whom no
one likes, you hearing this may be unpleasant."
"Everything that comes out of your mouth is unpleasant, anyway, so
don't worry about it," I reassured her, and Yukinoshita took a small
breath.
There was no way I could feel worse than I already did. Our last
exchange had left me feeling like I'd had more than enough
already—like that time I ordered unlimited ramen.
"I've always been cute, so most boys who approach me are attracted
to me."
Uncle.
This was filling like double veggies and extra spices.
But now that she'd made such an impressive declaration, I couldn't
leave my seat. I would suck it up and wait for her to continue.
"I think it was from about fifth or sixth grade. Ever since then…" She
tapered off, her expression growing rather melancholy compared to
before.
That was just under five years. I wondered what on earth it was like
to be constantly showered with attention from the opposite sex.
Frankly, as someone who's been showered with loathing from the
opposite sex for just under about sixteen years, I can't imagine it. As
a guy who doesn't even get Valentine's chocolate from his own
mother, I don't understand that world. The way I see it, she's a
member of that smugly smiling team of winners at life. She's just
gonna force me to endure more ridiculous bragging.
But…it's also true that because her vector in that area is positive
while mine's deeply in the negative, it was difficult for me to handle
an open expression of emotion from her. It was like standing stark
naked in the ravaging winds of a storm. It was as bad as being
denounced by a classroom kangaroo court. It was very much the hell
of being made to stand alone in front of the chalkboard, surrounded by your classmates on all sides as they clap in unison, chanting,
Apologize! Apologize!
That really did suck. That was the only time I've ever cried at school.
But that's enough about me for now.
"Well, it's got to be a lot better than being constantly hated right and
left. You've been pampered. Pampered!" The unpleasant memories
surfacing in my mind set off my mouth.
At that, Yukinoshita heaved a short sigh. She summoned something
very closely resembling a smile but was clearly a different expression
altogether. "I never asked people to like me," she declared, before
adding, "Or perhaps, I would have rather had someone like me for
real."
"What?" My response was entirely involuntary. Her comment had
been delivered in a vanishingly quiet whisper.
Yukinoshita turned to me again, her mien serious. "How would you
feel if you had a friend who was always popular with girls?"
"What a dumb question. I don't have any friends, so it's not
something I'd worry about." What a strong, masculine retort! I'd
surprised even myself with my instantaneous-to-the-point-of-
interruption improv rejoinder.
Yukinoshita must have shared my surprise. She was left speechless,
her jaw hanging slack. "For an instant, I entertained the delusion that
you might have said something cool." She gently touched her hand
to her temple, as if beset by a headache or something, and cast her
eyes down. "Just give me an answer, speaking hypothetically."
"I'd kill him."
Seemingly satisfied with the immediacy of my reply, Yukinoshita
nodded. "See? You would attempt to exclude that individual,
wouldn't you? Just like an irrational animal…no, inferior to one,even. At the schools I've attended, there were a lot of people like
that. I suppose they were all just pitiful souls who employed that sort
of behavior as self-validation." Yukinoshita snorted.
A girl hated by other girls. There was indeed a category of that
nature. I've learned something from my ten years at school. I wasn't
necessarily immersed in it, but I got that much just by watching from
the sidelines. No, I understood it precisely because I was watching
from the sidelines. I'm sure that Yukinoshita had always been in the
middle of it, and that was exactly why she was surrounded by
enemies. I could imagine what would happen to someone like that.
"In elementary school, my indoor shoes were hidden about sixty
times, and for about fifty of those incidents, girls in my class were
responsible."
"I want to know about those last ten times."
"Boys hid them three times. Teachers bought them from me twice.
The dog made off with them five times."
"That's a high dog statistic." That bit had surpassed my expectations.
"That's not the part that's supposed to shock you."
"I deliberately ignored the lead."
"Thanks to that, I went home with my indoor shoes every day, and I
even took to carrying my recorder home, as well." Yukinoshita's
expression conveyed the tedium of these trials.
Unintentionally, I found myself sympathizing with her. It was just,
you know…not because her story rang a bell or because I felt guilty
because back in elementary school this one time I'd figured out the
period early in the morning when no one was in the classroom and
had switched the tips of our recorders. I just felt genuinely sorry for
her. Honestly, honestly. Hachiman tells no lies!
"It must have been hard."
"Yes, it was. Because I'm so cute." She laughed in a mildly self-
deprecating way, and this time the sight of her wasn't nearly as
irritating as before. "But I don't think it can be helped. Nobody's
perfect. They are weak, with ugly hearts, and they quickly turn to
jealousy. They try to knock others down. It's so odd… In the world we
live in, the greater a person is, the more difficult his or her life
becomes. Don't you find that strange? That's why I'm going to
change this world and everyone in it." Yukinoshita held a clear
sincerity in her eyes—eyes as cold as dry ice. Cold enough to burn.
"That's an incredibly bizarre direction to channel your efforts."
"Is that so? Even if you're right, I think it's a much better choice than
to end up withered and exhausted like you. I hate the way
you…regard your own weaknesses as virtue," she snapped, casting
her gaze out the window.
Yukino Yukinoshita is a beautiful girl. At this point, this was an
indisputable fact. I was forced to accept it, however regrettable that
was.
She appeared on the outside to be a paragon of flawless conduct—
academically peerless and generally impeccable. But her personality
had a massively fatal flaw.
No one found things like that cute.
But there was reason for the flaws. I wasn't taking Ms. Hiratsuka's
words as gospel, but being an elite, Yukinoshita did have her own
troubles.
I'm sure it wouldn't have been difficult to hide it. To cooperate with
everyone, to use every trick in the book, excelling at everything,
while fooling the world around you. Most people do that.
Just like how someone good at studying, when they get good grades
on a test, will say it was a fluke, that they were guessing, or just got
lucky. Or when a bunch of plain girls are jealous of a pretty girl, the pretty girl makes a big show of her own ugliness by talking about her
subcutaneous fat.
But Yukinoshita doesn't do that.
She never lies to herself. I can respect that. Because I'm the same
way.
Yukinoshita redirected her attention to her paperback, as if to signal
the conversation was over.
Seeing that, an odd feeling caught me off guard. It occurred to me
that she and I were alike, in a way, though it was very unlike me to
think so. At that moment, I even started feeling as though the silence
between us was somehow comfortable. My blood pressure
increased ever so slightly. It felt as if my heart rate had surpassed the
speed of the clock's second hand and was telling me it wanted to go
even faster.
So…
So her and me…
"Hey, Yukinoshita. Can we be frie—?"
"I'm sorry. That's impossible."
"What? I didn't even finish my sentence!"
Complete and utter rejection. And plus, the look on her face said,
Eww…
There's nothing cute about her. Rom-coms can go die in a fire.