Taking a sip of my favorite drink, I narrowed my eyes in satisfaction, feeling the pleasant warmth spread through my body.
Napoleon Bonaparte wisely remarked: "I would rather suffer with coffee than be senseless."
Especially when you can enjoy it in a pleasant home environment, in silence and comfort, to the measured ticking of the clo...
— Bro-o-o-ther!
Sighing, I placed the mug on the table and turned around.
— What happened, Komachi?
My younger sister, who had previously been lounging freely on the sofa, rolled onto her side and showed me the spread of a glossy magazine.
— Do you like girls like these?
— My eyesight isn't good enough to see from here, — the not-quite-a-woman but no-longer-a-little-girl made a disappointed face, knowing perfectly well how that works on a certain antisocial personality.
No, she couldn't just come over herself; she absolutely had to drive me out of my warm spot, forcing me to display excessive activity.
But fine — such things are permitted for her.
Rising from my seat, not forgetting to take the coffee with me, I leisurely walked over to Komachi and, squatting down, noisily took a sip from the cup, examining the photos of the models.
— Mm-m-m...
Scratching my cheek with my free hand, I tilted my head.
Typical beauties who constantly show off on advertising banners or flash across the TV screen. Chiseled figures, ideal facial features, all flaws hidden by makeup, clothes that emphasize their assets.
— Nah, pass, — I took another sip.
Komachi blinked in bewilderment.
— Eh?
— Look for yourself, — I smiled with the corners of my lips. — Do you think a single one of them would be a suitable match for your brother?
My little sister frowned, meticulously sweeping her gaze first over me, and then over the models. Spending about a minute in thought, she snorted loudly.
— Definitely not, — she shook her head, after which she clenched her hand into a fist. — Not one of them is worthy of my big brother!
I grabbed my heart, letting out a drawn-out groan, watching the girl's mocking smile out of the corner of my eye.
Having waited for the end of my performance, she narrowed her eyes.
— How many?
I finished my morning dose of "vigor" and placed the mug on the coffee table.
— Twenty.
— Hey! — Komachi jumped up indignantly, assuming a sitting position. — Why so few?
— Too obvious. You need to be more original, strike when the enemy is most defenseless. So keep training, — reaching out, I ruffled my sister's hair, causing her to sniffle indignantly. However, she didn't try to break free.
— Twenty, is it? — Komachi drew her eyebrows together. — Total: two hundred points. Is that enough for you to buy yakisoba on the way back?
— You ate that the day before yesterday.
— That was the day before yesterday, and today is today!
I laughed shortly.
— Logical. Noodles it is; if I don't forget, I'll buy them, — glancing at my watch, I rose from my squat. — All right, enough chilling. Classes start soon.
— Okay, — the girl jumped off the sofa and, shedding her pajamas on the go, rushed to her room.
I wanted to call out to her and hint that scattering clothes like that is a sign of bad manners, but I waved my hand at it.
Such trifles aren't worth the nervous tension.
Picking up the shirt and pants from the floor, I folded them and tossed them onto the armchair. If she sees them, she'll put them away. If not? She'll get an earful from Mom. Dad won't have the spirit for it; he spoils the little one too much. In principle, we are similar in that regard.
It took Komachi about ten minutes to get ready, during which I managed to quickly drink a second cup of coffee, check the tires on the bike, and spend some time staring at the sky, examining the clouds.
By the way, I never understood the fanaticism of some comrades in ascribing conditional symbolism to products of water vapor condensation. I won't argue, sometimes their shape is similar to animals or human faces, but close observation is definitely not required here. And generally, all of this is a form of pareidolia.
I wonder, can staring at the ceiling in search of answers to questions be categorized the same way?
My sister tore me away from my thoughts, tugging at my sleeve.
— Brother, we'll be late!
— Yeah, yeah, — waiting until she, brazenly violating all traffic rules, sat on the rear seat and wrapped her arms around my torso, I leisurely set off.
Despite the girl's words, there was no particular sense in hurrying.
Or is it young woman? Seems like fifteen years old, but...
Too complicated.
In any case, her classes start in half an hour, and the road there at a leisurely pace will take fifteen minutes at most. Well, of course, I need to make it in time myself, otherwise Hiratsuka will have a weighty reason to arrange a session of violence against my brain.
Quite pleasant prospects.
Attention is attention, so to speak.
— Umm... by the way, have you found yourself a girlfriend yet? — an unexpected question.
— Why such interest?
— Does Big Brother not want to tell the details of his personal life to his beloved little sister? — she knows exactly how that plaintive tone of hers works on me.
Little manipulator.
Who does she take after?
— Personal life? Never heard of it, — seeing a red light, I braked sharply, causing the girl to squeeze me tighter, trying not to fall. — Is it contagious?
— Funny, — judging by her intonation, she pouted.
From the point of view of the depth of the relationship between brother and sister, how strong is our bond if I don't even need to see her face to understand such things?
— Komachi, — waiting for the signal, I started moving again. — And why do I need a girlfriend?
Silence. She's thinking.
— We-ell, to walk with her. Take her to cafes, hug, I don't know... k-ki... — and extremely quietly, on the verge of a whisper, she finished: — ... k-kiss.
— I can walk with you. Take you to cafes too. Hug? If you don't fight back — easily. The last one is impossible, of course, I'm not one of those, but there is always the option to use a tomato, — the last words caused Komachi to let out stifled giggles.
— Are you a fool, brother? — I don't hear any dissatisfaction in your tone. Tsk-tsk-tsk.
— Could it be... someone is disappointed? I never knew you were a brocon, — I clicked my tongue for effect.
In response, I was weakly hit on the back, after which she buried her face in my spine.
— Definitely a fool... — I really wanted to turn around, because I am obliged to capture such cuteness in my memory, but I restrained myself with an effort of will.
A girlfriend, huh?
In a way, the functions of relationships are noticeably overrated at our age. Like, we aren't talking about creating a family unit where the main task is mutual support and trust.
Yes, romantic, but that's how I see it.
It's more about the opportunity to calm the hormones. Cuddles, exchanging oral fluids, boosting dopamine in the body with pleasant phrases and spending time together. And sex. Where would we be without it?
...Everything is for its sake.
What teenager at our age wouldn't want to pin a cute girl to the mats in the sports storage room? Meanwhile, it's one of the most popular genres in hentai.
However, I haven't gone far myself. Sometimes I literally start shaking with how much I want female warmth, even though my mind perceives that this is just a biological need and excess testosterone. Fortunately, for now, manual regulation and small physical exercises help. The more tired you are, the less you want it.
Sexual intercourse, basically, is the main motive if you think about it, since everything else is quite realistically replaceable with substitutes. After all, one shouldn't forget about the additional bonus — the growth of social status among peers.
No matter what kind of macho you are, if some guy appears nearby who is clearly worse than you in all indicators but has already managed to stir someone's "pistil" with his "stamen," then in the eyes of others, he will be much cooler.
Sex — as a fundamental factor in the growth of influence in high school society.
Sounds like a title for an excellent article in a trashy magazine, the kind Komachi loves to flip through.
...
...I'll have to check them.
I won't allow wretched yellow press to ruin my little sister's worldview.
— By the way, Brother, did you meet with that girl?
— Which one?
— Well, the one who brought the sweets.
I chuckled.
— Is that the handful that you left me out of the generosity of your soul?
— But I left some!
— Logical.
— So? Did you meet? — she just won't let up.
— No, of course not.
— But why?
— What for?..
I answered Komachi's disappointed sigh with a quiet laugh.
However you look at it, a sister is much more convenient than a girlfriend.
***
— Hikigaya, are you an idiot?
— Yes, — I answered instantly.
Hiratsuka choked on smoke and coughed. Having caught her breath and wiped away the tears that had formed, the woman glared at me with powerless anger in her eyes and tried to assume a menacing look.
Considering her condition a second ago, it turned out so-so.
— When will you stop your antics? — for persuasiveness, she shook the filled-out form. — You seem like a smart guy! Just write something suitable; no one demands you actually fulfill what is written!
Actually, I do all this for such a wonderful reaction, satisfying my needs for attention from your person. And feeding my inner masochist. Or sadist?
Can't figure it out right off the bat.
And it would be too early to voice such things.
— Can I really not express my honest opinion? — adding more offense to my voice.
Shizuka measured me with an unreadable gaze.
— Hikigaya.
There it is, those very legendary intonations I have been waiting for so long.
If Snowball learned to use them, then perhaps...
Sensei crossed her legs — I love those pants! — folding her arms under her chest, which was only emphasized by the dark shirt under the white lab coat.
...Nah, impossible.
Too strong a difference.
— Fine, fine, I'll rewrite it. Always dreamed of being an office worker, burning my conscious life away in endless overtime, so that in old age, until death itself, I could suffer from regrets over a wasted youth.
— H-Hikigaya... — oh, it seems I went a little too far.
The teacher's face turned slightly red, and, as it seemed to me for a second, tears appeared in the corners of her eyes.
However, it only seemed so.
I get the feeling that I managed to hit a sore spot.
The sadist in me is pleased. The masochist is not. Cognitive dissonance results.
In any case, so as not to fan the fire any stronger, I raised my hands in the air in a placating gesture.
The easiest part remained: find a suitable topic to jump off the current one.
...Umm.
— Nice weather outside, don't you agree?
And I immediately grimaced, perfectly understanding what nonsense I managed to blurt out. I am one hundred percent sure this moment will go into memory as another trigger for a series of shameful recollections.
But what won't you do in the name of pure and unclouded love!
Shizuka snorted barely audibly, covering her face with her palm.
— I'll pretend I fell for it, — shaking her head, the woman began to twirl the pack of cigarettes in her hands, as if pondering whether to replenish the nicotine reserves in her body or not. — By the way, Hikigaya, how are things in the club?
Damn, right! The ideal topic. Why didn't I think of it myself?
Had to mention the weather, damn it...
— Excellent. Better than anyone. The team is cohesive, there are no disagreements, we are inflicting help on all the suffering, everything according to your covenants.
— Less sarcasm, boy, — the teacher chuckled, having decided not to spoil her lungs any further after all.
— I am completely serious.
— Yeah, yeah, tell me about it. That must be why Yukinoshita starts practically shaking at the mention of your name, — hey, Sensei, then why is your smile so satisfied?
— I don't even know what you are talking about. Sno... Yukino and I have a trusting relationship built on mutual respect, observance of personal space boundaries, supplemented by common interests and hobbies.
Honestly, I tried to keep a serious face until the end, however, Hiratsuka's intent gaze turned out to be too strong, so a chuckle escaped anyway.
— And honestly?
I sighed.
— Well, it's nothing special. As long as she is silent — everything is wonderful. Basically, it works both ways. If she didn't try to draw me into a dialogue, no problems would arise.
— You do understand that communication is one of the most important components of competent socialization? — how aristocratically she raised an eyebrow. I need to ask for a couple of lessons.
Although, perhaps, it works for her because of her attractive face.
...Still can't understand why no one takes her as a wife?
Tsk-tsk-tsk, how picky men have become nowadays.
This arrangement suits me entirely. Fewer rivals — more chances of success for a specific Hachiman.
— By "communication" do you mean attempts to hurt me or show superiority? — let's omit the fact that this applied more to our first dialogue than now.
— She was trying to provoke you into emotions.
— I know.
— Then what is the problem? — Shizuka tilted her head questioningly.
— That I don't want it? — at the end, I scratched my head. — Sensei, with all my soul I appreciate your desire to introduce me to the wonderful world of "youth," but I refuse to blindly follow orders.
To say or not to say?
However, I never made a terrible secret out of this.
— I had enough of such attitudes up to my neck in elementary and middle school. No, I sincerely hope that Yukinoshita doesn't want to humiliate me with her actions, but on the contrary — to motivate me to dialogue, however... — oh, here it would be appropriate to weave in the teacher's favorite phrase: — You are a smart woman, so you must understand — you cannot build a benign relationship on such a "foundation."
You can only grow a benign tumor.
Hiratsuka, having drilled me with a heavy gaze for some time, eventually sighed and massaged her eyelids with her fingers.
— What did I get myself into... Fine. What about Yuigahama?
I stared at Shizuka in bewilderment.
— Nothing? — I don't quite understand the embedded subtext, which is why uncertain notes flashed in my voice.
— Hikigaya, — it seems she only felt worse. — What do you feel for her?
Um...
— Nothing?
No, really, what is the point of asking a question the answer to which is known in advance?
— Where are your endless streams of words when they are so needed? — unable to stand it, Sensei waved her hands, expressing indignation with her whole appearance.
— So what should I talk about? Yuigahama is an ordinary girl, with mild problems in the form of an excessive desire to constantly be in a collective, susceptible to others' influence, tries to radiate positivity and other scary things, thereby, most likely, hiding her internal fears and worries. I don't experience negative emotions toward her, nor brightly positive ones. Oh, right — I punched my palm with my fist. — Remembered an important detail.
Hiratsuka looked at me with interest.
— She is stupid. First she acts, and then she thinks. Resembles a doggy in some way. Just keep this between us, okay?
Phew, hope she is satisfied now.
The teacher froze, muttered something barely audibly with her lips alone, placing her palm to her forehead, after which she silently pulled out a cigarette and lit up.
What is wrong now?..
***
Here is a maximally strange question: "What do you want to become in the future?", if you think about it. Especially at our age, when the vector of interests is like a weather vane. Well, for example, yesterday I watched a series about doctors and got fired up with the idea of entering the path of a surgeon. And today I read an article about the success of a programmer and decided to go into the IT sphere.
Undoubtedly, there will always be purposeful people for whom everything is obvious and clear, or comrades for whom everything was decided by parents. Family business or something else in that spirit.
But the bulk of school students haven't a clue what they need from the future.
Their heads are more stuffed with the "present," because it is simpler, fewer worries and anxieties.
Tapping the pen on the table, I ran my eyes over the empty form once again.
There were no thoughts in my head.
But an answer needs to be formulated, preferably one that suits everyone, including me. Consequently, it is worth posing a question of the following nature: "What do I need at all?".
Ideally, I want two things from life: minimum worries and maximum comfort. Conditional work at home is the ideal option. Or not working at all, but simply existing at someone else's expense. Some will start spitting, saying that being a househusband means not respecting yourself, all kept men are just lazy losers...
...However, is it bad?
Why can girls afford such an approach, but we cannot? Just because the established stereotypes about the "breadwinner" and the "keeper of the hearth" are working? Or is it all about the subconscious desire of a man to show his dominance? Met stories several times about how married couples split up because the wife managed to earn more than the husband.
Idiots, one should rejoice at such a thing. You can't be fed on pride alone.
However, in this ideal option, there is one significant flaw.
To lead an idle life while the partner works hard, it is necessary to *have* this very partner. Moreover, one whom such an arrangement will suit entirely.
And one still needs to crawl to this happy moment.
I scratched under my chin thoughtfully.
— Hikigaya, — blinking, I looked at Yuigahama, who for some reason was examining me intently, clutching a phone in her hands. — Can you give me your number?
— Okay, — I shrugged, tore a page out of the notebook, quickly scribbled the data with a pencil, and pushed the piece of paper across the table toward the girl.
She looked at it in surprise, after which she sighed quietly and began to type the received information into her flip phone.
— This is from me, — following her words, the mobile in my pocket vibrated.
— Got it, — out of the corner of my eye, I caught Yukino's short glance toward the note. However, noticing my attention, the girl snorted barely audibly and turned away, continuing to pretend that I don't exist. I understand; last time I jumped on her pride again. Am I ashamed of this? No. Her own fault.
Be that as it may, she is also a club member, so it is quite logical to give her my number too. I doubt Snowball will be texting me in the evenings or without reason.
Tearing out another sheet, I repeated the previous procedure and, folding the paper, flicked it, sending it sliding toward Yukinoshita.
She directed a cold gaze at me.
Don't need it — don't take it. My business is to offer.
Making sure I did everything possible, I decided to return to past reflections.
So, where did I stop?
Aha.
Need a backup plan in case the gigolo tactic doesn't work.
No desire to go into a company as an office clerk. Constant overtime, often a stifling collective, and I don't observe a passion for papers in myself.
Manual laborer? Exhausting physical labor, unstable wages, and a low chance for career growth.
Medicine? Well, I'm not afraid of blood, have rudiments of composure, however, there is the main minus — need to work like the damned.
Everything is somehow excessively stressful. If only there were some hobbies to build upon when choosing...
Hmm...
Freelance programmer? A bunch of pitfalls, but there is a chance to work from home. Plus, considering the trends in the industry, it is difficult to remain without work. Hmm...
I'll have to try, see what I'll have to deal with. If I feel I can't master it, I'll abandon the idea.
Entering the decision into the form, I exhaled contentedly and leaned back in the chair, clasping my hands behind my head.
One less worry.
Now thirty minutes remain to space out at something and I can calmly bail. The main thing is not to forget to buy yakisoba for my sister, otherwise she will hold a deadly grudge against me.
Having decided on the plan of action, I closed my eyes, detaching myself from the quiet dialogue that had ensued between Snowball and Doggy. Something connected with some emails. Not my concern, basically.
I even managed to doze off for a couple of minutes.
Longer, unfortunately, didn't work out. A knock on the door interfered.
— Come in, — Yukinoshita permitted, interrupting the conversation with Yui.
— Sorry for being right before closing, — into the class, with his eternal smile on his face, walked Hayama. — You have a volunteer club here, right?
— Amazing deduction, — whoa, Snowball, are you really in that bad a mood?
Hayama laughed awkwardly.
— I was told that here they can help in solving problems, is everything correct?
Fewer questioning intonations. I'd give a tooth that Hiratsuka sent you, for usually everyone ignores this room. We don't even have a sign with the name.
— Not in solving, but in searching for options, — no, Yukino definitely got up on the wrong side of the bed.
Or does the reason lie in my presence? Na-a-ah, couldn't be. There is definitely another reason, definitely.
— That works too, — Cap managed to maintain a benevolent expression.
— Then speak, — the girl crossed her arms under her chest.
Yuigahama and I silently watched the unfolding scene.
— All right, — Hayato sat on the chair in front of us. — Have you received any strange messages lately?
— Oh! Yes! — Yui almost jumped up, apparently finally having a reason to participate. — You mean those emails about Ooka, Tobe, and Yamato?
— Exactly, — the guy's face darkened. — I don't like that someone is spreading rumors about my friends. Because of this, the atmosphere in our group has become tense.
I honestly tried to remember who was being discussed. And just as honestly admitted that the voiced names meant nothing to me. Somehow there was no reason to be interested in Cap's lackeys.
However, I didn't receive any mailing either. Taking into account that Yuigahama is the first person from the class to take my number, I don't see anything surprising in this.
— May I see what this is about? — Yukinoshita addressed Doggy and, receiving permission, took her friend's mobile.
After a couple of minutes, she snorted loudly and returned the mobile to the girl.
Yui was about to hand the device to me, but I shook my head negatively. If our "head" wants to — she'll fill me in.
— So I understand, everyone from your class received similar messages?
— Yes. From the parallel class too, — Hayama nodded.
— So, it's a chain mail. And, as I understand, you want to find the sender?
— No! — Cap waved his hands. — The only thing I desire: to understand how to calm the others down.
I raised an eyebrow.
That is, simplifying, someone yearns to eliminate the consequences, but not the source itself? And what is the point then?
— I see. Find the culprit. We can help with that, — Yukinoshita, completely ignoring the guy's remark, rose from her seat, looking out the window.
Hayato opened his mouth to protest, however, in the end, he said nothing. Just pulled a smile onto his face again.
Folded, whipped.
For the umpteenth time.
When Yuigahama and Miura were arguing, he tried to calm them down right until Yukino arrived, after which he abruptly became a silent observer.
He behaved exactly the same way on the tennis court.
And now, as soon as Snowball "pressured" him, Cap submissively bowed his head.
Total whipped behavior.
— I cannot stand such things. Low actions defaming other people, aimed at obtaining personal gain, — Yukinoshita said gloomily. — Moreover, they often understand that they are harming others, but consider it the only correct way out. Or, even worse, do not want to look for another.
She turned sharply to us.
— We will definitely find the culprit and punish him to the fullest extent of the law!
— Hooray?.. — not enough enthusiasm in the voice, Doggy.
— Punish? — Hayama inquired nervously.
— Yes. Such things cannot be let slide, — Yukino nodded.
Oh, Snowball is practically charged with fighting spirit.
— Hikigaya, do you have any thoughts on this? — she turned her gaze to me.
— No-ope, — not shy, I yawned, covering my mouth with my hand.
Yuigahama opened her mouth in surprise.
What? If Yukinoshita wants to help Cap — go ahead and good luck, what's it to me?
More precisely, not even "help." In essence, she invented the problem herself and gathered to solve it. Wonderful approach, my frenzied applause.
— You have no suggestions or objections? — Snowball narrowed her eyes with suspicion.
— I fully support your undertaking, — I blinked a couple of times, driving away the oncoming drowsiness. — I can suggest only one option, — turned to Hayato.
— And what is it? — the guy calmly met my gaze.
— Walk your friends.
For a second, Cap's little smile cracked.
— Don't compare my comrades to animals, Hikigaya, — Hayama's tone became much colder than usual.
Shrugged.
— In other words, go and hang out with them. Purely male company.
— And how will that help? — Yukino cut in.
I looked at her with boredom.
— If his friends' peace of mind is more important to him, then additional time together will unite the team, which is what Hayama is asking for.
— I am talking about the classes in general, — Cap frowned.
— And I about your comrades. Simplifying: set priorities.
No, I, of course, can lay everything out on the shelves, but...
— And, generally, who among us is the unofficial class leader — you or I? — I barely held back from yawning again. — Who, if not you, should understand social interaction within groups, right?
— If I understood, I probably wouldn't be asking for help, — his smile became, as they say, "strained."
— Sad, what else can I say. Heard the phrase: "Noblesse oblige"?
— Yes.
— Then correspond to it, — frankly speaking, I don't like to repeat myself. Especially since I expressed my thought quite accessibly, so we move on to the next stage.
Ignoring Cap, who was about to say something else, I turned to Yukino.
— In any case, I am interested in something slightly different, — making sure she was listening to me, I continued: — Do you need me at the moment?
— Want to bail on your duties?
Don't remember signing up for something like that. I don't share her hyperbolized sense of responsibility.
— Uh-huh. Little sister is waiting. Be that as it may, everyone has already dispersed, and my participation in your brainstorming won't be particularly useful.
Now Snowball decided to snort.
Rich palette of emotions, starting to envy.
— Decided, finally, to admit your incompetence in solving the social problems of others? — the girl inquired with a touch of superiority in her voice.
I just indirectly voiced that in the conversation with Hayama. Nothing embarrassing?
Although I don't care.
— Spot on, — taking her answer for a "yes," I rose from my seat.
Yuigahama looked at me with resentment, as if upset that I was asking only Yukino. As if she would go against her friend, yeah, right. Definitely not now.
The reason for the prolonged meeting honored me with only a short glance, and I didn't notice any special gratitude in it.
— I didn't expect anything else from you, — not hiding her pleasure, Snowball stamped.
I let out a short chuckle.
— I love justifying others' expectations sometimes. Until tomorrow and... good luck, — waving my hand in goodbye, I left the classroom.
Let them fuss and swarm there, trying to resolve the conflict within social groups.
I am, actually, an outcast; such things definitely shouldn't concern me.
Moreover, obligations to a younger sister are sacred and not subject to delay!
***
The following days I watched the performance from the side, the main actors of which were Yuigahama and Yukinoshita. Moreover, surprisingly, it was Snowball who caused more laughter with her attempts to analyze the information supplied by Doggy.
Considering exactly how Yui tried to achieve the necessary result, the lack of results looked logical.
The situation looked especially hilarious when she tried to extract information from Miura, with whom her relationship clearly hadn't returned to normal. I drew this conclusion because of how Goldilocks flared up.
Again, one can quite understand such a reaction if one recalls the primary cause of the conflict: Yuigahama's inability to speak directly when necessary.
Yes, the girl started dodging and weaving again. Doesn't learn from her mistakes at all, as I see.
However, all this paled in comparison to what Yukino arranged.
Honestly, when I first saw the board covered with names connected by lines and a bunch of stickers listing the motives of the possible culprit, I had to run out of the office, citing a stomach ache.
Laughed so long that by the end I was completely hoarse.
At the same time, by the way, took a couple of photos as a keepsake, because missing such a thing is simply blasphemous.
The most killer thing, which still makes me laugh, is that Yukinoshita stubbornly avoids the correct answer, which is literally right under her nose. One gets the feeling that the girl is consciously looking for the most difficult path, manually creating obstacles for herself.
It's extremely simple, after all.
We take the time the mailing appeared. We try to find prerequisites for such a thing: the upcoming excursion to workplaces fits perfectly here. For which, horror and shock, they are divided into groups of three people.
Now we recall who the victims of the chain messages are and what they have in common.
They are all Hayato's lackeys.
Together with Cap himself — four. Consequently what? One goes overboard. Who will it be? Unclear. Theoretically, the decision is Hayama's; after all, he is the group leader. Will this whipped guy make such a decision? Based on his line of behavior — no.
To preserve the status quo, it is necessary to stick to the initial conditions.
"Kind, ready to help, the soul of the company."
All indicated factors literally forbid him to exclude someone from the group, because then the image he created will be shaken.
In the dry summary, we come to the conclusion: Hayato is afraid to make a decision, leaves it to the lackeys, and they, in turn, didn't come up with anything better than starting an information war against each other.
Why then work on all three?
Obvious: one started, the second got offended, the third joined in.
A coherent theory based solely on external observations is ready.
What can a leader deprived of the possibility of a "hard" decision do in such a situation? Correct — act as a "bird of peace," reconciling everyone. Pay equal attention to the entire trio so that they themselves realize the nonsense they are doing.
Of course, all this is a solution of the level: "World peace will come only when everyone is ready to love each other." Maximally idealized, in reality overgrown with a bunch of pitfalls, failures, and other nasty things.
In conditions of a small social group, it has chances of success.
And the simplest way is to cut Cap off from them to hell, but that won't eliminate the source of the problem. He can't trade his ass every time to preserve the shaky balance within the team.
Not made of rubber, sort of.
However, the most important thing is that I am watching a wonderful show.
***
Snowball needed another day to come to the same conclusions as I did, only this did not solve her problem of finding and punishing the guilty party in any way. Therefore, as the most reasonable and logical person in the world, she acted brilliantly: through Cap, she dragged the main suspects out for a conversation: Ooka, Tobe, and Yamato.
Ready to lay my soul on the table, but I definitely heard Yuigahama and Yukinoshita trying to determine which of them would be the "good" cop and which the "bad." Definitely didn't expect such a level of absurdity. The situation could only be made even wilder by giving Yukino the role of the "good" cop and Yui the "bad."
Imagined a vicious puppy in my head, baring its teeth and pretending it will bite you, and a huge panther affectionately licking a hand.
Surreal. What surrealism.
Because of this, sincerely wishing to preserve the remnants of reason and sanity, I strategically retreated "to the toilet" as soon as the trio and Cap loomed on the horizon.
But even so, I couldn't get the picture out of my head of a puppy and a panther in police uniforms interrogating four guys handcuffed to chairs.
Need to toss this idea to Zaimokuza.
Be that as it may, I didn't intend to skip the "interrogation" entirely, so, having wandered around the special building for ten minutes, I figured that this time would be enough to miss the very peak of madness.
However, upon returning to the club, something interesting awaited me.
More precisely — Goldilocks' protruding rear, the owner of which was trying to see something through the crack in the door.
Seven out of ten. No. Even eight.
And why is Hayama squeamish?
In any case, tsk-tsk-tsk, Yumiko, good girls shouldn't eavesdrop.
Suppressing the desire to spank her on the butt — I am still a guy with bubbling hormones, and here is such a sight! — I approached closer.
Zero attention.
Closer still.
Still doesn't notice.
Crept up close.
The target suspects nothing.
Well... her own fault, basically.
Leaning toward Miura's ear, I whispered loudly:
— Need help? — and quickly moved aside, because the girl straightened up sharply, prudently covering her mouth with her palm so as not to scream.
Amazing how quickly the shock in her eyes changed to recognition, and then — to anger.
— Hikigaya! — hissed Yumiko. — You scared me! Why are you sneaking up?
Possibly I'm strange, but her reaction didn't cause negativity in me, rather, affection.
— Heard anything interesting?
Goldilocks was taken aback for a second, but only for a second.
— What business is it of yours? — and... scowled? Unexpected. But plus a third of a point.
— Curious, — turned my head with an ear to the door to hear what was happening inside better.
Judging by the familiar notes, Yukinoshita was unburdening her soul, dropping the trio to the very bottom.
— Why are *you* eavesdropping, being a club member? — Yumiko moved closer to the crack.
Shrugged.
— Because I can.
— And I, it means, can't? — Miura was indignant.
— Well... you aren't a club member? — gave the girl more space so she could also listen normally to Yukinoshita's "conversation" with the trio.
— How is that connected? — Goldilocks involuntarily brushed me with her elbow.
— Not at all.
— Do you take me for a fool? — looked askance in my direction.
— Yes, — maintaining a calm facial expression.
— Have you been told that you are disgusting? — Yumiko sighed doomed, stopping attempts to avoid contact.
— Not yet today, — hmm, isn't it too free for me to talk to her?
— You are disgusting, — Miura measured me with a gaze, but I didn't notice any special contempt there.
Seems like she insulted, but at the same time — didn't. As if not implying under her words what she... said?
I would call it "friendly," but that's already too much. We aren't friends. And not even buddies. Maximum — acquaintances.
— Thank you.
Pouted.
Cute.
Meanwhile, the interrogation, covered by conversation, judging by everything was coming to an end, since Snowball was clearly exhausted, Yuigahama is incapable of pressuring in principle, and the guys didn't crack. Therefore, Hayama finally decided to save them, as usual letting everything slide, and under this pretext leave this place, which turned out to be so unfriendly.
...And never return here again.
Well, I definitely wouldn't.
Miura, hearing Hayato's intentions to leave, frantically looked around and, unexpectedly grabbing me by the sleeve, dragged me away.
— Hey, what are you doing, we'll miss the most interesting part.
— Shut up! I don't want Hayama to see us!
— So you could have left alo...
— Just shut up, please! — she hissed just as loudly with a barely noticeable blush on her cheeks, still not letting go.
Apparently, didn't think of that thought first. Happens; I'm guilty of that myself.
In principle, nothing prevented me from breaking out of her "grip," but when you are being dragged somewhere by, let's be honest — and damn puberty! — a beautiful girl, you don't really want to offer resistance.
Hiding behind the turn to the stairs, Yumiko finally unclenched her fingers on my sleeve.
— Not a word about this to anyone, got it, Hikigaya?!
— Fine, — I smiled with the corners of my lips.
— Othe... stop, you agree? — Miura choked on air.
— We-ell, yes? I sort of understand everything perfectly: you were interested in what Hayama was doing, but didn't want to impose, afraid of pushing him away. Curiosity turned out stronger, decided to follow and eavesdrop. Bumped into me. Further, I think, it's not worth saying, you seem not particularly stupid, — I stretched. — And who would I tell? I have no friends at school.
— But what about Yukinoshita and Yuigahama? — not believing her own words, the girl inquired. — I thought, since you are in the same club...
— ...Then it means nothing, — I finished for her.
The noise of voices was heard in the corridor. Oh, it's all over.
Yumiko darted her eyes fussily, as if lost in space.
Sighed.
— Okay, I'm off, — and, turning around, waved my hand briefly in goodbye and headed toward the classroom.
Why did I wave my hand, by the way?
...
Mistakes of youth. Definitely.
Drawing level with Cap and his lackeys, I grinned mentally. Judging by their faces, they got run over pretty hard.
Hayato, saying nothing, walked past, honoring me with only a short tired glance. Ooka, Tobe, and Yamato, hanging their heads, didn't notice me at all, immersed in their own thoughts.
It seems Yukinoshita finally found someone to vent all the accumulated anger on and, likely, managed to explain all the wrongness of their act.
However...
"Just as medicine does not reach its goal if the dose is too large, so censure and criticism — when they cross the measure of justice."