Every action leads to certain consequences, and in some cases, to completely unexpected ones.
— And why must I be in the same room with you? — Snowball looked in my direction, as if wishing to evaporate me on the spot with her gaze.
Unfortunately, in my case, the results of certain actions were obvious.
— You can lay out all your complaints to Hiratsuka, — I lazily turned the page of the textbook, struggling through monolithic blocks of text which, according to the creator's design, are obligated to evoke genuine interest. — Besides, I don't see any problems just because you took my words as a deadly insult.
— Hikigaya, you compared me to an animal.
— Did I? — chuckling, I made sure I understood what I had read, after which I closed the book and put it in my bag. What do I have next? Biology? Yes. Need to rewrite the essay. — It always seemed to me that people also tend to mark territory.
— Considering the context…
— Which you created yourself, — interrupting a person is rude, but waiting patiently while she brought her thought to the finish line wasn't something I wanted to do either.
Between wasting time and violating etiquette, I will choose the latter.
— Actually, Yukinoshita, it wasn't me who came into the classroom, interfered in someone else's conversation, and insulted a person for no reason, pretending to do a favor, — right, what did I need to write about? Seems like… "Overview of wild animal life in nature."
— The fact that Miura was morally pressuring Yuigahama doesn't concern you? — Yukino narrowed her eyes.
Moving closer to the desk, I clicked my pen and quickly wrote the title of the topic in the middle of the sheet.
Sighed.
It is amazing how easily people notice rudeness directed at themselves and how diligently they ignore their own screw-ups.
I know from personal experience.
Just interesting: in our first meeting, Yukino immediately tried to crush me morally, and I, in principle, can understand that — a fellow social outcast found herself in a situation where her personal space was violated.
The question is as follows: if you initially place yourself in the position of "I am better than you" and truly imply it, building a line of behavior on this basis, then why provoke the interlocutor into a conflict?
To stroke your own ego?
Right, right, forgot. She drew me into a dialogue that way. Silly, silly Hachiman.
I wouldn't have talked any other way. Definitely.
Tone, posture, and a rather rude format of communication — purely for show, with a person you are meeting for the first time — obviously serve as a not very good foundation for the emergence of a friendly atmosphere.
Although, I'm already used to people attributing negative traits to me in advance. Basically, partly deservedly, considering how much effort has been put in to avoid engaging in social activity unnecessarily.
I just don't understand another point: what did Miura do to you, Snowball?
You didn't even figure out the essence of the conflict, just stupidly and brazenly barged in, playing the righteous angel of vengeance for the innocently oppressed.
Couldn't you have gently hinted that you had business? Well, or said the same thing, but without stooping to a direct attack and threats.
You are "above" everyone else, aren't you?
So why don't you behave accordingly?
As if a buffed-up thug came to a middle school and started beating his chest, growling to everyone that he's the boss here now.
Pah.
And at the same time, as soon as her pride was touched — immediate deadly offense. In essence, I simply copied Yukinoshita's actions toward Yumiko, adjusting them to the context of the situation.
However… fine. Hachiman is always guilty and wrong. An unshakable rule of life.
I cast a short glance at the cause of the conflict that had arisen.
Yui was sitting on the sidelines, pretending to be extremely interested in a book. She was doing a poor job of it — you need to turn the pages at least once every couple of minutes, otherwise those around you might suspect something is amiss.
Is she going to keep silent like that? She brewed this mess herself.
What stopped her from just directly saying to Goldilocks: "I made a friend, and I want to have lunch with her"? I doubt Yumiko would have fallen into a rage from that. She might be a bitch, but she definitely isn't deprived of brains. What was all this weaving from side to side for…
And here I looked at Doggy again, ignoring the irritated gaze of Yukinoshita, who never received an answer to her question.
— What is your problem, Yuigahama? — the question burst out on its own.
The girl, hearing the address in her direction, perked up and lowered the book to nose level, staring intently in my direction.
— What do you mean, Hik… — Yui stumbled, — …igaya?
I put the sheet aside, propping my head with my fist.
— Trying to understand the motive of your actions, but the meaning somehow eludes me…
— The fact that you can think at all is surprising, — Yukino snorted, crossing her arms under her chest.
— Believe me, you don't know much about me, — I skewed my gaze in her direction. — Yet you rush to draw conclusions.
— That works both ways, Hikigaya, — Yukinoshita noted coldly.
Touché.
— Umm… maybe we won't fight? — Yuigahama suggested quietly. — Let's talk about a different topic instead?
Snowball and I simultaneously switched attention to the girl, causing her to become timid.
— Well… well…
She darted her eyes around the room, as if trying to find a topic.
— Right! — she clapped her hands. — Recently a new cafe opened in the shopping district.
I raised an eyebrow. So what?
Judging by everything, Yukino's facial expression broadcast the same question.
— But not just a cafe! — not losing her head, Doggy extended an index finger. — You can play with cats there!
— Tru… Ahem, — Yukinoshita demonstratively cleared her throat, trying to hide her embarrassment. — I heard they hike up prices due to the presence of such service.
— Well, they are slightly higher than in other places, but not too much. Here, look, I have photos from an acquaintance who went there, — she pulled a flip phone out of her pocket.
To my surprise, Snowball rose from her seat and approached Yui, starting to examine something on the screen with real interest in her eyes.
— See? Such places are equipped here… — Yuigahama began explaining the internal layout of the cafe.
— How cute, — Yukino muttered quietly, stopping Doggy on some photo. — You can even put them on your lap and eat like that?
— Uh-huh! — the girl nodded her head.
— Cool, — Yukinoshita smiled unconsciously.
Hmm, so the "Ice Queen" is crazy about cats? Funny detail.
And here an image arose in my head of a fluffy white cat with black hair and Yukinoshita's features. Which, with her favorite expression on her muzzle, gazed at a tail-wagging, playful doggo…
Ahem… what was I on about? Ah, yes.
The smile suits her quite well; she even starts to resemble a normal high school girl. Maybe next time I should come in a cat mask? What if it raises the degree of friendliness?
…No. Too harsh. She'll take it as a mockery of her own hobbies, especially if I am the source.
Still, certain boundaries must be observed.
Yuigahama, noticing my thoughtful gaze directed their way, blinked, after which she looked at Yukino, who was engrossed in the photos, then back at me.
Before the girl could open her mouth, I shook my head negatively, pulling the unfinished essay toward me.
Among the few useful skills I acquired during my asocial life, there was one that often helped avoid unnecessary trouble or headaches.
The ability to read the room.
Therefore, I'd better busy myself with homework than destroy the fragile peace created by Doggy's actions.
…And, perhaps, I'll toss a point into her karma.
She earned it.
***
It is worth being frank; the presence of club activities diversified my life a little. More precisely, it introduced a fresh stream into the monotonous flow of repetitive actions. Specifically, a stream.
Throwing my bag on my back, I leisurely walked up to the third floor.
Am I grateful to Hiratsuka for this? Not sure.
If we consider the situation purely logically, casting all emotions aside, the teacher's motive is quite understandable. As is, basically, the method of implementing the idea of my socialization.
It is enough simply to put oneself in her place.
You are a teacher, with experience. Your student is a teenager with an overly cynical view of life, firmly convinced that youth is a talentless waste of time. Possessing basic knowledge in the field of psychology, it is easy to conclude: if nothing is done at the current moment, the guy's personality will finally ossify, and making "positive" changes to it will become a labor-intensive process. Especially since he is now in the most vulnerable state, so he is susceptible to external influence.
Again, the matter cannot be solved with a simple conversation. Without unnecessary boasting, it is worth saying that the indicated student possesses a complex mastery of thinking, from which it follows that the most successful option for solving his problem lies in using one's own power and authority.
In simple words: Hiratsuka forcibly shoved me into a club with exclusively good intentions. Moreover, to a place where exactly the same character inhabits, clearly avoiding social activity.
I will never believe that Yukinoshita's affairs at school, in terms of having friends and communication, are going better than mine.
In any other circumstances, such an idea would not have brought anything good. However…
— What if he is dangerous?
— Not sure, but he definitely arouses suspicion.
I blinked a couple of times, trying to comprehend the picture before me. Namely: Doggy and Snowball, who, for reasons unclear to me, were whispering near the ajar door, intently examining something there.
And extremely engrossed, as they didn't notice my arrival.
Approach and shoo them? I'll earn another stream of insults and accusations. Do I need that?
…Not in the mood, so — pass.
Therefore, without unnecessary tricks, I stomped loudly on the floor, imitating a step.
If Yuigahama jumped slightly from this, Yukino just barely flinched and shifted her gaze in my direction.
— Ah, it's you, Hikigaya, — Yui exhaled with relief.
— Finally arrived, — Yukinoshita sighed, surprising me with her statement.
— Sounds as if I was needed, — chuckling, I leisurely approached the girls. — The question remains: for what?
— Clearly not for what you would like, — Snowball snapped routinely, stepping back from the door. — There is an incomprehensible and suspicious type in our club.
— Very suspicious, — don't nod your head like that, Doggy, it might fall off.
— And what are my actions? — I cast a fleeting glance into the crack of the door.
Oh, who do I see.
— Be kind, go in and deal with it, — did I mishear, or did pleading notes slip into her tone?
Wow.
She knows how to do more than just order?
— Everything is fine, — I smiled with the corner of my lips. — It is just our classmate.
And, not waiting for their reaction, I boldly entered the room.
— Ku-ku-ku, who would have thought we would meet in such a place. What a surprise! I was waiting for you, Hachiman Hikigaya, — in the middle of the room, standing in an incomprehensible pose, was my old acquaintance. Well, one of those with whom you spend time in PE during pair exercises.
I sighed.
— And what wind blew you in here, Zaimokuza? — out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the girls sticking their heads out from behind the door with interest.
— The wind of change and new discoveries, my friend! — at the end, the chubby guy laughed loudly, adjusting the glasses that had slid down his nose.
You look at him and the question arises: aren't you hot? Not only did he pull a coat with long hems over his uniform, but he also put on fingerless leather gloves.
Although, considering the sweat trickling down his forehead, the answer was obvious.
— Hikigaya, it seems he knows you…
Eh, Snowball, when did you manage to appear behind my back? And peeking over the shoulder like that…
…and over her shoulder — Yui.
It's somehow a little unnerving when a girl is behind.
— I told you: this is our classmate. Yoshiteru Zaimokuza, from class 2-C, — fine, let them hide if it's easier for them.
What are they afraid of anyway? The most harmless person in my memory.
— Ha-ha-ha! Glad that you have not forgotten an old comrade with whom we have gone through so many battles! Then, perhaps, as a sign of our eternal friendship, you will extend a helping hand in a difficult moment… to me, — at the end, Yoshiteru exhaled noisily and wiped his forehead with a handkerchief.
Honestly, I am amazed by his persistence. The man chose a style — he sticks to it, whatever obstacles stand in the way.
— What is wrong with him? — Yukinoshita inquired quietly.
— Everything is normal with him, — I shrugged.
— Do you hear his speech?
— I haven't complained about my hearing. Still don't see any problems.
— He is clearly sick with something! — Yukino whispered furiously.
While Yuigahama pricked up her ears, casting glances now at me with Snowball, now at the guest, Yoshiteru himself stoically pretended not to hear our conversation. Instead, with hands on hips, he gazed dramatically and pretentiously out the window.
— Let's talk about that topic later. Zaimokuza, so what is your request? — no offense, Yukinoshita, but right now I don't feel like entering into a long-term discussion with you on a topic you clearly don't understand, given you ask such questions.
— Ho! I see in your eyes that righteous fire of justice that interested me in our dark past, — placing hands on hips, the guy stretched a hand forward. — I, Zaimokuza, the lord of swords, appeal to you, incarnation of the god of war, Hachiman Hikigaya! So hear me out!
I shifted to the side, preventing Yukino from crawling out from behind my back, perfectly understanding what she wanted to do.
I understand, for an unprepared person, such behavior and style of speech look insane. Plus, partially familiar with Snowball's character, it isn't hard to guess exactly how she will act.
Dominate, oppress, and escalate. Add insults to taste.
— Considering I am in the volunteer club, I see no reason to refuse. Spit it out, what is your problem, — so endure, endure. The points for this matter belong to me.
— Like in the old days, you are ready to extend a helping hand to me, — Yoshiteru turned around and lifted a stack of printouts, stretching it forward as if presenting us with the greatest treasure in the world. — Behold the fruit of my mind! Ancient scrolls in which all the wisdom and bitterness of lived years are captured, enclosed in the marvelous form of a story, capturing…
— You need the work evaluated? — I interrupted him quite gently.
Seems he said a couple of weeks ago that he was finishing work on something "incredible" that would fundamentally change the existing laws of reality. Back then I didn't attach much importance to his words.
— Your mind is astute, and your gaze is clear, Hachiman. Exactly so! — the guy cleared his throat, after which he exhaled noisily. — Soon there will be a contest for young authors, and I want to participate. Can you read and say what is wrong?
I ignored the surprised exclamation from Yuigahama, dumbfounded by such a sharp transition.
And what did you think? You can't wrap that in high style.
— And when do you need the results?
— By tomorrow's sunset rays of the sun, I will await your answer! — Yoshiteru paused again. — Deadlines are pressing.
Nodding, I turned to Yukinoshita and Yui, who continued to hide behind my back.
— Agree to this?
Snowball, finally realizing how close she was to me, stepped back, nearly knocking Doggy off her feet.
— Just read and offer criticism? — she clarified.
— As I understood — yes. You can ask yourself.
— I'll manage without, — Yukino cut off excessively categorically, casting a short suspicious glance toward Zaimokuza, who was quickly distributing the printouts into three folders.
So, she agrees.
— And you, Yuigahama? — although I doubt she is a full-fledged member of the club. But more is not less, right?
The girl laughed awkwardly.
— Well, I'm not a master at this, but I'll do everything possible, — with these words, Yui patted herself on the arm in the bicep area.
— Then everything is decided, — I turned back to Yoshiteru. — Leave everything on the table for now, we'll try to prepare everything by tomorrow.
Hearing this, the guy seemed to shine from within.
— I knew that the bonds of comradeship we formed would not be broken by the oppression of time! I will wait, as we stipulated in the concluded contract! Farewell, Hachiman, god of war, may the age-old rage of our ancestors be with you! — and, excessively quickly for his build, he slipped out of the classroom, diligently pretending not to notice the girls behind me.
A true titan of solitude. Respect.
An ideal one doesn't want to reach.
Stretching, I walked to the table and took the folder nearest to me. Tangible weight.
— So what is wrong with him? — Yukinoshita repeated her old question.
Deciding not to put it off until later, I immediately opened the first page of Yoshiteru's "book." At least I'll understand what I have to deal with.
— A creative personality, — hmm, familiar phrasing. Did he try to write in the shonen genre?
— To me, he has some kind of disease, — Yukino stated somewhat excessively stubbornly.
— Possibly, — I didn't deny. — But, if we are speaking on this topic, it is worth understanding: there are no healthy people in the world, only the underexamined.
— Speaking from personal experience?
— Of course, quoting the words of my personal psychiatrist, — flipping through a bit more, I slammed the folder shut, refraining from a sigh.
If I understood correctly, then rest in peace, Yoshiteru.
Snowball definitely won't appreciate such an approach and style.
— Well… he is strange, but seems not dangerous? — you should remove the uncertainty from your voice, Yuigahama. — It definitely isn't contagious, Hik… Hikigaya?
I couldn't hold back a disappointed sigh.
Fine, I'll try to explain to them accessibly what's what.
— I will only say… — a sudden knock cut me off at the beginning of the phrase.
Immediately after this, the door slid slightly to the side.
— Hachiman, could you help me with something else? — Yoshiteru looked at me with a certain amount of embarrassment.
Why did you come back, junkie?
Stop. This is an excellent way to bail on the dull explanation which they won't understand anyway or will twist in their own way!
— Of course, let's go, you can tell me on the way, — throwing the folder into my bag, I headed for the exit.
Before leaving the club, I turned to the girls.
— Until tomorrow.
And, thinking a little, added:
— But treat your hands with antiseptic, Yuigahama. Just in case.
…hope no one gets offended to the depths of their soul by *that*?
***
— And why did you need me?
The weather outside was pleasant: light gusts of sea breeze and the setting sun not blinding the eyes with its rays.
— I wanted to tell you the plot of the light novel I wrote! — Yoshiteru gave me a thumbs up, for a reason not entirely clear to me.
Well, at least he stopped portraying an incoherent hero of a dull shonen. Not condemning a bit; playing to the audience or a defense mechanism — everyone chooses for themselves.
After all, I'm not without sin either.
— Then what is the point of reading what you gave us? — I chuckled.
— Because I will voice only general moments, causing you wild interest, due to which you will delve into my creation with great diligence! — at the end, Zaimokuza laughed loudly, thereby making a couple of unfamiliar school students ahead flinch.
— Or conversely — what I hear will disappoint me, and I will proceed from a preconceived negative impression.
— Eh? — apparently, the guy hadn't anticipated such an outcome. Even envious of such boundless optimism.
— So decide for yourself, — having enjoyed the sight of his puzzled face, I checked the time.
I'll arrive just in time for dinner.
Excellent.
— By the way, you do realize that Yukinoshita will tear you to shreds? She has a sharp tongue and a honed skill for hitting people where it hurts.
Yoshiteru snorted loudly, jerking his chin up.
— A true sword master does not retreat in the face of danger! — noticing my skeptical gaze, he smiled nervously and scratched the top of his head. — Yeah, honestly speaking, I wanted to give it only to you, but then I thought: what is there to lose? Especially since…
He entered the character again.
— After a battle with a dragon, one experiences no fear of wyverns!
Scratched his chin.
Sounds logical. If he can survive criticism from Snowball, then conditional posting on some forum won't be scary.
As they say, even the most reckless deeds need to be performed with full dedication. Sometimes this is capable of bringing success.
— So, regarding the plot of my work…
— Still going to risk it? — couldn't resist and interrupted.
— Ha! Said it — not a step back! — he paused and looked, squinting, in my direction. — All done? No more questions?
I let out a quiet chuckle, clasping my hands behind my head.
— Fire away, writer. Make me admire and kneel before your talent.
— So be it! — exclaimed Zaimokuza. — Heed my genius!..
***
There is an opinion that through the main character of a book, one can know the author.
Since the majority of writers, wittingly or unwittingly, inscribe their personal traits into the character, project their desires and fears, dreams and nightmares onto them. So to speak, realize in the text what they could not or are unable to achieve in reality.
In a certain way, it is almost impossible to avoid such a fate.
After all, the very fact of creating something implies the work of thinking, and no one canceled its subjectivity. Of course, some representatives of the paper-scribbling art manage to get rid of the personal tint in heroes as much as possible, often throwing them onto secondary characters or enclosing the thought in events, small remarks, in short, whoever is capable of what.
Is this bad? I don't think so.
Personally, in my opinion, the most important criterion by which a good work is determined lies in emotional involvement, the main component of which is the plot. One can close one's eyes to mistakes or excessive simplicity of heroes, or an unsatisfactory setting. The main thing is for the thread of the narrative to carry one further and further, allowing one to ignore the flaws.
In the case of Yoshiteru's work, I lasted through reading the first chapter, the second, a glance in the middle, and immediately skimming the ending.
Total spent: three hours, one and a half of which went to drinking coffee, making corrections, and staring at the ceiling.
Was it that bad?
Rather… No.
Was it incredibly boring?
Yes.
Although, being honest, if I hadn't read hundreds of similar works in my extremely exciting life, then, quite possibly, I would have tried to swallow it whole.
As it was, to Zaimokuza's regret, predicting certain plot twists in his light novel proved not difficult.
I didn't consider the issue of formatting, grammar, and sentence structure correctness. If I understand Snowball's character even a little bit, she will express everything perfectly for me. It remains to believe that she will try to deliver the criticism more gently.
…My naivety is sometimes frightening.
Yawning, I slid the door aside and entered the club room.
Yukinoshita was already there, occupying her usual place near the window. The only difference from previous times — the girl, tilting her head, was peacefully dozing, hands folded on the folder with Zaimokuza's work. And, judging by the number of multi-colored bookmarks, someone didn't sleep all night, diligently studying Yoshiteru's creation.
For some reason, looking at her serene facial features, a fragment of an article from a cheap women's magazine floated up in my head.
"Imagine that you woke up in the morning and the first thing you saw was your partner's sleeping face. If this gives you positive emotions, then this is your soulmate. If not — run!"
Well, it certainly doesn't cause rejection. Quite cute, I would say — aesthetic…
Stop.
What am I even thinking about?
Shaking my head, I threw the arising images out of my mind.
Is this really that very youth that needs to be enjoyed and which everyone speaks of with such delight? In that case — spare me from such a thing. Pink mush instead of brains doesn't appeal somehow.
It is one thing to enjoy the fact of such emotions. Another — to elevate them to an absolute, placing such at the base of a worldview.
And, generally, all this is hormones.
So the question about removing the pineal gland is still in force.
In any case, I didn't disturb Snowball unnecessarily, preferring to take my favorite place against the opposite wall.
Let her rest a little.
Leaning back in the chair, I folded my hands on my stomach and closed my eyes. Need to enjoy every moment of silence and peace, for there are so few of them in our life…
…Unfortunately, happiness turned out to be short: ten minutes later a loud knock on the door sounded, from which Snowball barely noticeably flinched, sleepily looking around.
Stumbling upon me with her gaze, she froze and, as it seemed to me, became slightly embarrassed.
— Allow me to enter! — Yoshiteru's voice rang out.
And, not waiting for our answer, he tumbled into the classroom.
Yukinoshita sighed and straightened her shoulders. Clearly hadn't woken up completely yet, otherwise Zaimokuza would have received a lecture on the necessity of receiving permission before doing something.
— Lay out your impressions to me! — he struck a pose in the middle of the class, sweeping us with a self-confident gaze. — Is it just me, or is one of you missing?
— Yuigahama will come later, don't worry, — at least, something like that she told me while running out of class.
I turned to Yukino, raising an eyebrow questioningly.
— Yes, — she covered a yawn with her palm. — I will start.
Opening the folder, the girl hesitated slightly.
— I apologize in advance. I am not very versed in such things, but…
Zaimokuza reacted completely calmly.
— I do not object. Even ones such as I are interested in the opinion of mere mortals. Narrate.
A reinforced concrete wall of confidence.
— Fine, — Yukinoshita took a deep breath, gathering her strength.
— Deadly boredom. Impossible to read. Haven't encountered such tediousness in my life.
Fast. Even. Straight to the vulnerable spots.
Yoshiteru's face twisted in a grimace of pain.
— Oh... — he wiped the sweat that had appeared from his face. — Would you be so kind as to reveal the secrets of your words: what exactly was missed by me?
I wanted to whistle.
Recklessness leads to vain death, my friend.
And I didn't lie, as the next fifteen minutes could be described as "a quality roasting to a crispy crust." Moreover, Yukinoshita was tearing the guy apart so coherently and evenly that I even got lost in listening, managing not to notice Yuigahama's arrival. I paid attention only at the moment when she placed a chair between me and Snowball.
Of course, Zaimokuza tried to justify himself and his screw-ups, but it was all in vain.
Note to self: Yukino, in a sleep-deprived state, is much more dangerous and harsh than usual.
By the end of her long tirade, Yoshiteru could have been swept into a dustpan with a broom and scattered to the wind.
Okay, time to stop this, otherwise I'll have to look for a new partner for pair exercises in PE.
— Yukinoshita, I think he understood and realized all his transgressions. Leave him at least a little confidence in his own strength.
The girl chuckled, glanced at the visually diminished "writer," and crossed her arms over her chest.
— So be it. Then, Hikigaya, your turn.
Zaimokuza looked at me with hope in his eyes.
— Well, in principle, I have nothing to add, — sorry, comrade, but you asked for this yourself. — The plot development leaves much to be desired, characters are poorly revealed and almost completely clichéd, the emotional component is limping, too many moments taken from other sources; don't particularly like plagiarism.
The guy theatrically grabbed his heart and collapsed on the floor.
— This pain… scarier than the Thousand Blades technique, — trembling, he glanced at Yuigahama. — Finish me off, do not prolong the suffering any longer!
Doggy laughed awkwardly and scratched her neck.
— Well… — she went silent for a couple of seconds.
I have a persistent feeling that one particular individual didn't open Zaimokuza's work at all.
There really is a difference in understanding responsibility: one didn't sleep a wink all night, diligently proofreading all errors, while the other, conversely, shamelessly bailed on it.
— Umm… do you know a lot of big words?
Fatality.
If this were an anime, Yoshiteru would have turned colorless and crumbled into tiny pieces.
As it was, continuing to kneel, he simply lowered his head.
Morally destroyed and crushed.
And I warned him…
***
Having recovered slightly from the damage inflicted, Zaimokuza got to his feet and brushed the stuck dust off his pants.
— Since this book failed, nothing remains but to start writing a new one!
Honestly speaking, I fell out a little from such a statement.
However, Yuigahama and Yukinoshita didn't lag far behind me in this regard.
— You still have the motivation to continue? — I inquired, recovering from the stupor first.
— Absolutely so, Hachiman, — despite the noticeable trembling in his legs, notes of confidence began to slip into Yoshiteru's voice. — I will accept all your words, carve them on the tablets of my soul, and will not allow such mistakes again!
He held a fist high above his head.
— Definitely crazy… — Yukino muttered in amazement.
— Masochist, — Yui supported her thought.
I let out a quiet chuckle.
You don't understand the subtle spiritual nature of creators, girls.
— Then go for it, since true mastery can be achieved only through hard work, — approaching Zaimokuza, I patted him on the shoulder and, leaning in, added in a whisper: — And don't forget about illustrations; many look at the picture rather than the content.
Yoshiteru smiled and gave me a thumbs up.
— Definitely! — and, becoming embarrassed, nervously inquired. — Can I ask you to help me with criticism again when I finish the new book?
Although something of a masochist is clearly present in him.
Glancing at Yukinoshita, I noticed a clear refusal in her eyes.
— No problem, the volunteer club won't refuse such a small thing.
— Then await my new creation, which will definitely shake the world! — and, bursting into laughter, he ran out of the classroom.
However strange those around him might consider him, denying his incredible persistence and loyalty to principles would be sheer stupidity.
Worthy of respect, however you look at it.
— I thought that after that he would abandon attempts to write altogether, — Yukinoshita shook her head.
— Then you don't know people like him well, — I sighed and walked to the window.
— What do you mean, Hikigaya? — in the reflection of the glass, I noticed how Yuigahama tilted her head amusingly.
— As Hegel said: "Nothing great in the world has ever been accomplished without passion," — I closed my eyes. — Zaimokuza found his calling and meaning in life. He yearns to create because he has something to tell and show people. He enjoys the process of creation itself. Even if no one appreciates him, he will continue to write, believing that someday there will be a person whose heart he can touch.
— Is that so… — I didn't see Snowball's face, but sadness was distinctly heard in her voice.
And I understand her perfectly, for…
"…exclusively through what we do, we learn what we are."