1 This is how Shizuka Hiratsuka kicks off a new competition.
I slapped a stack of crap thick enough to rival the Dead Sea Scrolls onto the table. "What the hell is this?"
I'd made the mistake of starting my day reading a manuscript that sent uncanny shivers down my spine. The source of my anxiety and déjà vu was, of course, the background material for Zaimokuza's sequel. Finish the first book before you write the sequel, Zaimokuza.
The draft was incoherent, no two ways about it. Even at the plotting stage, contradictions already abounded, and the whole thing was a mess. About the only thing the story had going for it was the aloof swordsman serving as its main character.
Solitude reigns supreme. Real heroes don't need friends.
To be unapproachable is to be strong. No connections means nothing cherished. "Something to protect" is just a euphemism for a chink in the armor. The Greek hero Achilles had his heel, and the powerful warrior monk Benkei Musashibou had his lord. If not for their weaknesses, history would have remembered them as winners.
Therefore, the strongest person is someone with no vulnerabilities, nothing to hold dear, and no connections with others. In other words, me.
The only realistic part of this dreck was the loneliness of its cheating, OP swordsman. The rest was garbage, so let's take a red pen to it. GA-R-B-A-G-E… There we go.
I was basking in a job well done when my little sister, Komachi, finished making breakfast. Our parents both work and had already left the house, so it was only Komachi and me in the dining room. My sister sported an apron as she set out two places at the table. Hey, wait, don't wear an apron with a tank top and short shorts. It makes it look like you're naked underneath.
Before me was a golden-brown scone and some coffee. There were also a few jars of jam. The fragrance of the well-toasted scone and the aroma rising from the exquisitely pure coffee danced together in a harmonious suite before the colorful array of sweet jam. It was a suite pretty cure for my morning hunger.
"Thanks for making this," I said.
"Yep, eat it all up~. I'm gonna dig in, too!"
The two of us put our hands together, and then Komachi raised the scone to her mouth in a cutesy little motion. "Breakfast today is pretty fancy, huh? Kinda Englandish with the scones and everything."
"What the hell is Englandish? Your new power move?"
"No, it means 'super England-like.'"
"Are you serious? I think that's called 'British.'"
"Oh, Bro. 'Brit' isn't a country."
"Internationally, England is known as Great Britain or the United
Kingdom. That's why if you want to say 'English-style,' you say 'British.' The more you know."
"I-I don't need your trivia! That's just one of those fake English words Japanese people made up! Like Great Gitayuu!"
I don't think Great Gitayuu is a pseudo-Anglicism. Ignoring Komachi's weak excuse, I pulled the condensed milk toward me. By the way, if you add condensed milk to regular coffee to make a MAX Coffee– style drink, it's called "Chibish" coffee. And a basketball anime set in the near future would be dubbed Baskish. Uh. I think. "But anyway, I thought English people drank black tea," I said.
"I know, but you like coffee better, Bro. So I think that's worth more Komachi points."
"Yeah, maybe you're right. I wish that kind of point system were real… Things would be so easy to understand," I answered. Life sure would be simpler if yeses and nos and affection ratings were clear and open on a display. If someone gave you a firm "no" accompanied by numerical proof supporting the fact, then you wouldn't harbor any delusions they secretly like you, so you'd have no trouble giving up on them. That alone would be a saving grace to many poor boys out there.
As I slurped down my DIY MAX Coffee, Komachi dropped her scone with a splat. White as a sheet, she trembled like a leaf. "Y-you're acting weird, Bro…"
"What?"
"You're acting weird! Usually when I say stuff like that, you get all mean and cold and act like I'm annoying, but that's how I know you love me!"
"You're the odd one here." Just how hypersensitive to these details are you?
"Anyway, all jokes aside," Komachi began, but as I was unsure how much was actually a joke, it was kind of freaking me out. If my sister was the kind of depraved individual who liked guys who snubbed her, I had no idea how to approach her anymore. Maybe I'd just ignore her every day and rack up those Komachi points. What a twisted sibling relationship.
"You haven't been yourself lately, Bro. Kinda apathetic… Though you've never had much ambition anyway. Oh, and you've got this rotten look in your eyes… I guess they've been that way all along, too. Oh, I know! It's like your jokes are all half-assed…like they have been for a long time now. Mm… Something's just off!"
"Are you worried or insulting me? Pick one." I couldn't tell if she loved or hated me here. "Well, it's been humid out lately. It makes everything rot faster. Including eyes and personalities."
"Ohh, now, that was kind of witty!"
In the face of such sincere appreciation, I cheered up a bit, letting out a rather proud chortle. Wait. Now that I think about it, wasn't that actually kind of backhanded? "You know, though… June has too many damn insects. Why is there no debugging software for summer?"
"That one was bad."
"I-is that so…" Komachi's pun standards were surprisingly stringent. It was oddly crushing to watch my triumphantly delivered witticism get shot down. I understand a little how Miss Hiratsuka feels.
Thinking of Miss Hiratsuka reminded me that I had to get going to school. If I was late, she'd give me more punishment whacks. I washed down the rest of my breakfast with my Chibish coffee and called out to Komachi. "I'm about to leave."
"Oh! Coming!" She stuffed her cheeks to bursting with scone, like a chipmunk, and cheerfully began taking off her clothes. Seriously, stop changing in here.
"I'll head out first."
With Komachi's drawn-out "Okaaay!" at my back, I walked through the front door and into the distinctive humid air of the rainy season. I couldn't recall having seen a sky this blue since the day of the workplace tour.
The damp atmosphere hovered thick inside the school building. The entrance teemed with students in the morning rush, making the area increasingly suffocating and uncomfortable.
There is a tendency to imagine the loner ensconced in a dark corner, but in point of fact, as the resident loner of our class, I comported myself in a grand and stately manner. Thus, I was the eye of the hurricane, a single, isolated air pocket in the school.
People with lots of friends must have suffered in that crush of protein at thirty-six degrees Celsius in such humidity. Loners are unusually comfortable during the rainy season and the summer.
They can lead well-ventilated lives at school.
I changed into my indoor shoes by the entrance and raised my head to see a familiar face.
"Oh…" Yuigahama was slipping on loafers with squished heels and avoiding my eyes with a lost expression.
I greeted her as I always did, without turning away. "'Sup."
"…Oh, hi." We didn't speak after that. She adjusted her bag on her shoulder, and then the decrescendo of a single person's departing footsteps rang out against the chilly linoleum floor. The noise faded into the rest of the din.
Even after the weekend had ended, things were still awkward between Yuigahama and me, and this had been going on for the past week now. Before I knew it, it was Friday again. She didn't give me that obnoxious greeting in the morning or accompany me to the classroom, and I returned to my old, peaceful life.
Okay. Nice. I'd managed to completely reset our relationship.
A loner, by nature, burdens no one with their existence. By avoiding entanglements with others, they cause no harm. We are extremely ecologically friendly, clean, and environmentally aware creatures.
By returning our relationship to square one, I had reclaimed inner peace, Yuigahama had been relieved of her debt to me, and now she could go back to her old normie life. I didn't think it was the wrong decision. No, I was right. I mean, she had no reason to feel obligated just because I saved her dog. It was mere chance, a total coincidence. Like finding a wallet on the ground and taking it to the police, or giving a senior citizen your seat on the train—that level of charity. Plus, it was the kind of thing you could secretly brag to yourself about afterward, like, Man, I just did such a good deed! Now I'm way different from all those shallow idiots out there. I'm a real man! There was no need for her to agonize over simple happenstance, and even less for her to feel liable for the fact that I started high school as an outsider, since that was inevitable anyway.
That was why the matter was closed now. Our rapport had returned to its factory setting, and now we could both go back to normal. You can't reset your life, but you can reset relationships. Source: me. I haven't been in contact with a single person from my middle school cla— Wait, that's not resetting. That's deleting. Tee-hee.
The tedium of sixth period was over. I was a diligent student with integrity, so I didn't talk to anyone in class and passed the time in silence.
By the way, sixth period was oral communication, so I was practically forced into an English conversation with the girl next to me. Right when we were supposed to start, though, she began fiddling with her phone. I thought the patrolling teacher would catch us, but thanks to my class skill Obfuscation, I escaped detection. Not bad, Hachiman.
But, like…when would this status effect wear off? Even after the dayend homeroom class, the effects still persisted, and nobody noticed me at all as I quietly packed up my things. What the hell? Am I a spy or something? Oh man. I might just get scouted by the CIA. But if AIC comes and recruits me by mistake, I'll be a good boy and make another Tenchi Muyo! OVA.
As these thoughts crossed my mind, I could hear frivolous commotion unfolding at my back as if to tell me, This is what high school is all about! The kids in the sports clubs made their leisurely preparations for practice, abuzz with complaints about the senior club members or their advisors. The arts clubs chattered and exchanged smiles as they asked things like What did you bring for your snack today? And those in the just-going-home club droned about their plans to hang out after school.
One voice among the crowd was particularly loud and boisterous.
"I'm so jealous of the soccer club guys. Their advisor is gone today." My gaze happened to follow the sound, and I saw Hayama chatting in a circle with seven boys and girls. The disgruntled remark had come from Ooka, the assimilating virgin from the baseball club.
The Yamato guy from the rugby team nodded his agreement, and the blond party guy, Tobe, took the idea and ran with it. "Man, it's hilarious. You guys still have club. Man. What're we gonna do? What're we even gonna do today?"
"I'm up for whatever." Miura left the planning to him, typing away at the phone in her right hand while sproinging her drill-shaped curls with her left, as if utterly disinterested in what Tobe was saying. Flanked by Ebina and Yuigahama, the queen of the class reigned supreme as usual.
Tobe lit up with sudden fervor for the task. "Oh! Then why don't we go to Thirteen and One? Doesn't that sound good?"
Miura paused for a beat and then smacked her cell phone shut. "Huh? No."
…I thought you were up for whatever. I reflexively interrupted their conversation in my head. This is how loners polish their witty comebacks, day after day. My eyes flicked toward Miura and her clique. Yuigahama was among them, and that was when our eyes met. Though we acknowledged each other's existence, we did so wordlessly.
"..."
"..."
If I had to create an analogy, it was like when you're at the station near your house and you see someone from your middle school class waiting on the platform one train door over. When you notice him, you're like, Whoa, it's Oofuna… and he's like, Oh… Who was that again? H…Hiki… Oh, whatever. That sort of situation. C'mon, man, don't give up trying to remember me.
Oh, but, like…i-it's not like the other guy just couldn't recall who I was. My memory is just exceptional. I have a superior brain. Loners are surprisingly adept at remembering names. It's probably because we work ourselves into a lather thinking, I wonder when they'll talk to me.
Just how good is my memory? This one time, I called out to a girl by name even though I'd never spoken to her, and her face twisted in fear, like, How does he know my name…? Scary…
Well, enough about me. Basically, Yuigahama and I were a pair of first-class swordsmen visually assessing the distance between them. The energy in the air whispered, In this match…whoever makes the first move will lose!
Miura dispersed the peculiar tension. "Let's go bowling, actually," she suggested suddenly.
That prompted a nod from Ebina. "I get it! The pins are such seductive bottoms."
"Ebina, shut your face. And wipe your nose. Try to pretend to be normal," she sniped, exasperated, as she held out a tissue for the other girl.
Miura is surprisingly nice, I thought, but you have to acknowledge that those tissues are advertising a telephone sex club, and that's a little weird.
"Bowling… Man, that sounds really fun! I actually don't even know what else we'd do!" Tobe agreed.
"I know, right?" Miura smugly tugged at her curls.
But Hayama didn't seem so into it and adopted a thoughtful pose. "But we went last week… Why don't we play darts? It's been a while."
"If that's what you're into, Hayato, then let's do it! " Miura immediately flip-flopped. What is this, a game of Concentration?
"Then, let's go. I'll teach anyone who doesn't know how, so let me know if you need help," Hayama offered, rising from his chair and striding away. Miura, Tobe, and Ebina fell into place after him, but Miura noticed that one member of the party was a beat behind. She turned and called out to her. "Yui! What're you doing? We're going!"
"…Huh? Oh…y-yeah! Coming!" Yuigahama, whose role in the exchange had been passive up until then, snatched up her bag in a panic. She leaped to her feet and skittered toward the doorway, but when she passed by me, her pace slowed for just a moment. She must have been conflicted. Follow Miura and her friends or attend the Service Club. Well, she was a nice person. No need for her to fret over us.
Though I say she didn't have to worry about it, when someone constantly lurks in your periphery, you start having qualms. Bad Hachiman, bad. Loners absolutely must not inflict trouble on other people. I should swiftly leave the premises. Hachiman Hikigaya withdraws coolly. How cool am I, you ask? Enough to record everything I see with a cassette player.
COOL! COOL! COOL!
I emphatically ignored Yuigahama and quietly left the classroom.
On the fourth floor of the special building, in the Service Club's room, Yukino Yukinoshita was situated in her usual spot at the back of the clubroom with her standard, frosty demeanor. The lone irregularity was that her reading material was not a paperback, but a fashion magazine. Curious. About the only other change was her summer uniform. Over Yukinoshita's blouse was not a blazer, but the designated summer vest. Designated sounds like a synonym for "lame," but on Yukinoshita, the uniform was like a breath of fresh air and oddly improved her appearance further.
"'Sup."
"…Oh. It's you."
Yukinoshita let out a short sigh and immediately dropped her gaze back to the glossy paper.
"Um, can you not act like that girl did when her seat ended up next to mine? That's actually legit hurtful." Major school events aren't the only fertile fields for distress. The seeds of trauma can also be planted on completely random, normal days. In fact, the less special the incident is, the more sincere the emotions behind it and the nastier the memory. The monthly seat assignments are the ultimate example of this. "I didn't do anything wrong, so why did I end up feeling like the situation was my fault? We drew straws. She should curse her own poor luck for landing next to me."
"So you acknowledge that the seat next to yours is the worst one."
"I didn't say that. Now you're just projecting your own bias."
"I apologize. The subconscious is frightening, isn't it?" Yukinoshita remarked and smiled.
The fact that she did it instinctively was even more hurtful, though.
"That was just a slip of the tongue, so don't overthink it," she said. "I thought you were Yuigahama for a moment there."
"Oh, is that right?" It wasn't surprising Yukinoshita would make that assumption. Yuigahama hadn't shown her face in the clubroom for a few days. Yukinoshita had probably been wondering if the other girl would finally show up today.
"The day before yesterday, she had to take her pet to the vet, and yesterday, she had some errands to run for her parents…," Yukinoshita muttered quietly at the screen of her cell phone. There was probably some e-mail from Yuigahama on it. An e-mail that I was not party to.
Was Yuigahama even gonna come to club today? If she did, I figured she'd behave just like she had that morning. I knew quite well how things ended up once the atmosphere had gone in this direction. Both parties just somehow keep their distance, then somehow stop interacting at all, and then somehow never see each other again.
Source: me. This was how I lost touch with my classmates from elementary school, middle school, and everyone. The same thing would probably end up happening with Yuigahama, too.
The clubroom was quiet. The only break in the silence was the inconsequential rustle of the pages of Yukinoshita's magazine. Now that I thought about it, things had been pretty raucous here lately. At first, it had been just Yukinoshita and me in unremitting silence, interrupted only by the periodic exchange of quips. Though I'd barely been in the club for a month or two, the stillness already felt like a long-lost friend. While I stared off into the space near the door, as if she could divine my thoughts, Yukinoshita spoke.
"If you're thinking about Yuigahama, she's not coming today. She just e-mailed me."
"O-oh… I-it's not like I'm worried about Yuigahama or anything!"
"Why are you using that gross tone of voice?"
Relieved, I redirected my attention from the door to Yukinoshita instead.
Yukinoshita heaved a small, quiet sigh. "I wonder if Yuigahama intends to come back."
"Why don't you ask?" Yukinoshita was actually in touch with her, so if she probed, she should get an answer.
But Yukinoshita shook her head weakly. "There's no point in asking. If I do, she's sure to reply that she'll come. I think she would…even if she didn't want to."
"Yeah, I guess…"
That was the kind of girl Yuigahama was. She prioritized everything else over her own feelings. That's why she'd even talk to loners, and if Yukinoshita were to message her, she'd come back. But it was all just kindness and pity. Nothing more than an obligation to her. And that was more than enough for boys with low EXP to get the wrong idea, like, W-wait…d-does she like me? and that was a problem. I really wished girls like her would send more obvious signals, seriously. There should just be an app that automatically converts emails from girls into stiff and formal Japanese. Then I could avoid getting my hopes up. Wait, that might really sell…
As I fantasized about my get-rich-quick schemes, Yukinoshita sank into silence as she scrutinized me. The steadfast attention of such a flawless visage set my heart pounding…in fear. "Wh-what is it?"
"Did something happen between you and Yuigahama?" "Nope, nothing," I replied, not missing a beat.
"I don't think Yuigahama would avoid club over nothing. Did you have a fight?" she pressed.
"No…I don't think so." I found myself at a loss for words. But I wasn't lying. More like, I just couldn't tell if it counted as a fight or not. We hadn't been close enough to clash in the first place. Loners are pacifists. We're not even nonresistance, we're noncontact. In world history terms, we're über-Gandhi.
The only altercations with which I was familiar were those between brother and sister, and that was back when I was in elementary school. It always ended with Komachi summoning my dad and draining my life points to zero. I'd try dueling her when my dad wasn't around, but then my mom would appear on a trap card and I'd end up losing anyway. I'd endure a lecture, and then we'd sit down at the table for dinner together, and the sibling spat would end amicably.
As I silently reminisced, Yukinoshita opened her mouth once more as if she'd been waiting for the right moment. "Yuigahama is thoughtless and indiscreet, she brainlessly says whatever comes to mind, she presumptuously invades personal space, she always tries to avoid conflict with that awkward laugh, and she's kind of loud…"
"It sounds like you're the one fighting with her." If Yuigahama were to hear all that, she'd probably cry.
"Let me finish. She has many flaws, but…but she's not a bad girl." After such a long list of flaws, I doubted it was even a question of her being bad or not. But when I saw Yukinoshita lower her lashes, blushing as she ended the sentence in a barely audible mumble, I understood this was her highest praise. If Yuigahama were to hear that, she'd probably cry…with joy.
"Oh, I get that. It's not like we're fighting, exactly. You have to be fairly close to someone for that level of conflict. So it was less a fight and more like a…" I grasped for the words, scratching my head.
Yukinoshita quietly put a hand to her chin and adopted a thoughtful pose. "A quarrel?"
"Yeah, sort of, but that's not quite right, I think. It's off the mark, but not that off, sorta."
"Then a war?"
"Still no. And getting colder."
"A massacre?"
"Did you hear what I just said? You're way off now." Why was she escalating the conflict? She thought eerily like Oda Nobunaga.
"Then…you're at cross-purposes."
"Yeah…something like that." That was exactly it. Our relationship was the transient passing of two individuals headed in opposite directions along the street. Like that thing you use to get the Masayuki Map.
I used StreetPass once back in middle school, and the whole class freaked out, like, Who's this 8man guy? I really wish they'd stop putting multiplayer communication into handheld games. I'm okay with online matches and all, but a game founded on the premise of interaction with nearby players is unquestionably a loner killer. Thanks to that trend, I couldn't evolve my Pokémon and finish my Pokédex.
"Oh? There's no helping that, then." Yukinoshita let out a small sigh and closed her magazine. Impassive though her words were, everything else about her reaction was resigned and fragile. She didn't ask any questions after that, and we managed to maintain the usual gulf between us.
I think Yukinoshita and I had something in common in the way we both kept our distance. We did engage in idle chat or discuss a given subject, but we rarely touched on our personal lives. We never asked each other questions like How old are you? or Where do you live? or When's your birthday? or Do you have siblings? or What do your parents do? I could hazard a few guesses as to why. Maybe it was just that neither of us had much interest in people to begin with, or maybe we were trying to avoid emotional land mines. And, well, loners are bad at asking questions. Making such random and sudden inquiries is really uncomfortable. Never trespassing, never taking that step, we were like two master swordsmen gauging the distance between ourselves.
"Well, it's like, you know…a once-in-a-lifetime thing. Where there are meetings, there are partings, as they say."
"I'm sure that was supposed to be an inspiring quote, but coming from you, I can only interpret it in a negative way." Yukinoshita sounded exasperated.
Really, though, life is a once-in-a-lifetime thing. Like that time in elementary school when we all promised to write letters to this kid who was transferring out, and I was the only one who never got a reply, and I never sent him a letter again. Kenta got a proper reply, though…
A wise man does not court danger. All who come to him are refused, and all who leave him are free to go. I think that's the only way to circumvent those risks.
"But…it's true that relationships are surprisingly fleeting phenomena. They break down readily for the most trivial reasons," Yukinoshita muttered, rather self-deprecatingly.
Out of nowhere, the door rattled open. "But people make connections for the most trivial reasons, too, Yukinoshita. It's not time to give up just yet." And who strode toward us, white coat fluttering behind her as she spouted her desultory declaration, but Miss Hiratsuka, who happened to be an expert on Hikigaya-centric offense.
"Miss Hiratsuka, could you knock?"
The teacher didn't seem to pay the slightest attention to
Yukinoshita's exhortation as she scanned the clubroom. "Hmm. It's been a week since Yuigahama stopped coming here, huh? I thought by now you two would have been able to do something about it yourselves, but… I couldn't have imagined your condition was this acute. I underestimated you." Miss Hiratsuka's tone verged on admiration.
"Um, Miss Hiratsuka… Did you need something?"
"Oh yeah. Hikigaya, I told you before, didn't I? About the competition."
At the word competition, it all started coming back to me. That was the thing where Yukinoshita and I engage in a Robattle Fight! (not that Robopon thing) to determine who could serve others better. Not long ago, Miss Hiratsuka had said something about the rules of the game and "changing some of the specifications" à la a video game company. I figured this time she was going to explain these revisions in more detail.
"I came to announce the new rules." Miss Hiratsuka crossed her arms and adopted an imposing stance. Yukinoshita and I both stood up a little straighter and tried to seem more attentive. The teacher looked from me to Yukinoshita and back again, building up the suspense. The measured, deliberate gesture only made me more anxious. It was so quiet I heard myself swallow.
Then Miss Hiratsuka broke the silence flooding the room.
"You will fight each other to the death!"
"…That one's old."
You don't even see that movie on Friday Roadshow anymore. Also, Roadshow does Laputa every year, and it's getting to be too much. I have the DVD. You can stop now. Do Earthsea, man—Earthsea. I haven't bought that one.
But, like…I guess high school kids these days don't know these movies. As I ruminated, I looked at Yukinoshita to see she'd fixed Miss Hiratsuka with her frigid disdain. She was regarding the teacher the way one might a piece of roadside trash.
Unfaltering under that withering contempt (if nothing else), Miss Hiratsuka cleared her throat, blatantly disregarding my remark. "Hem. Ahem. A-anyway! Simply put, this means I'm applying battle royale rules. Three-way brawls are a staple of long-running action manga. Basically, it's like the Kaguya arc in Yaiba."
"There's another blast from the past."
"This is a three-way fight, so you're allowed to cooperate, of course. You have to learn not only how to oppose each other but also how to work in tandem."
It's true. Ganging up to destroy someone who initially caused you trouble is a staple of battle royales.
"Then that means Hikigaya will always be fighting at a disadvantage."
"Yeah."
I didn't even bother fabricating any protests or counterarguments. I just accepted my fate. It was clear this would end up being two-onone, with me as the one.
But in contrast to my enlightened attitude, Miss Hiratsuka let slip a bold smile. "Relax. This time we'll go out and win over new members. Oh, but you'll be doing the recruiting, of course. In other words, you can get more friends by yourselves! Gotta catch 'em all! Go for all 151!" Miss Hiratsuka brimmed with confidence as she said this, but her suggested number revealed her true age. There's almost five hundred these days, you know.
She said "get more friends" like it's so easy, though.
"Be that as it may, those rules still put Hikigaya at a disadvantage. He's not suited for recruitment, either," said Yukinoshita.
"I don't want to hear that from you."
"Well, you've already snagged yourself one person," pointed out Miss Hiratsuka. "No need to agonize over this."
Well, now that she mentioned it, we certainly had. But even if your heart is true, courage will not necessarily pull you through. And you teach me, Miss Hiratsuka, so I'll teach you…that in reality, though things had supposedly gone so well with Yuigahama, she was nowhere to be seen.
Perhaps Miss Hiratsuka realized that, because her expression clouded over. "But it seems that Yuigahama isn't coming anymore… This is a good chance for you. It's another reason I think you should go out and find some new members, to compensate for the one who's gone."
Yukinoshita raised her head in surprise. "Please wait. Yuigahama hasn't necessarily quit…"
"If she's not attending, it amounts to the same thing. I don't need a ghost club." Miss Hiratsuka's laid-back mien disappeared in favor of a powerfully chilling glare. "You kids haven't had some kind of misunderstanding, have you?" she asked, but it was less of a question than a reprimand. Though the sentence was interrogatory in form, she was implicitly accusing us of wrongdoing. When Yukinoshita and I fell silent, unable to reply, she turned it up a notch. "This isn't a club for you and your friends to goof off in. If you want to go act like teenagers, then do it elsewhere. Your assignment as Service Club members is personal development, not taking it easy and lying to yourselves."
"…"
Yukinoshita pressed her lips together and silently looked away.
"The Service Club is not for playing around. It's a fully fledged club at Soubu High. And as you know, coddling people with no initiative stops after middle school. You've chosen to be here, so those with no desire to do this can leave."
Initiative and desire, huh…? "U-um… I have no initiative or desire to do this, so can I leave?"
"Do you think a convict has that much freedom?" Miss Hiratsuka glared at me, cracking her knuckles.
"O-of course not." So I couldn't escape after all…
When she was done casually threatening me, Miss Hiratsuka turned back to Yukinoshita. While the girl was expressionless, her attitude made it clear she had various unspoken grievances. The teacher smiled at her as if at something of a loss. "But thanks to Yuigahama, I found out that an increase in members leads to an increase in activity. I suppose this means another member would balance this club out a little. So…you two have to come up with one more person with initiative and determination to fill up that empty spot…by Monday."
"Someone with initiative and determination by Monday? You have so many orders for us. Is this all just leading up to us being eaten by a wildcat?" I asked.
"You like Kenji Miyazawa, huh?" remarked Yukinoshita. Made sense. We're first and third place in Japanese, after all.
But if the deadline was Monday, that gave us only four days, including today and the due date. I thought having to come up with someone with enthusiasm for Service Club activities and a drive for self-improvement was a rather unreasonable demand. Who the hell does Miss Hiratsuka think she is, Princess Kaguya? …Oh, maybe that's why she can't get married. Eventually, her family is gonna come pick her up, too.
"Th-this is tyranny…" I made a perfunctory show of resistance.
But Miss Hiratsuka just smirked. "That's uncalled-for. I'm trying to be nice in my own way, you know."
"How is this in any way nice…?"
"If you don't understand, it's okay. Now then, that's it for club today. Come on, think of how you can get a hold of some new members," she said before chasing us out of the room. She tossed us, bags and all, into the hall and closed the door with a snap, locking it and then quickly striding away.
Yukinoshita called out to her back. "Miss Hiratsuka. To confirm: We're supposed to fill one position, is that right?"
"That's exactly right, Yukinoshita." And then she was gone, her words lingering in the air behind her. She did, however, smile faintly over her shoulder before she vanished.
Yukinoshita and I watched her go and then turned to each other. "Hey, how are we gonna get a third person?" I asked.
"Who knows? I've never invited anyone to join, so I have no idea. But I can think of one person who might agree."
"Who? Totsuka? Totsuka, huh? It's Totsuka, isn't it?" I couldn't imagine a single other person. And that was because I wasn't thinking of anyone besides Totsuka.
My barrage of Totsukas elicited some annoyance from Yukinoshita. "No. He might join, too, but…there's an even easier option, isn't there?" Yukinoshita prompted.
There was no one else we could ask, though. Raking a fine-toothed comb through every possibility, the most I could come up with was Hayama, the rare true normie. Well, Hayama might help us if we asked. But he probably wouldn't fulfill the "initiative and desire" requirements. I couldn't think of anyone else at all. Huh? Zaimokuza? That's an unusual name. Who's that?
Seeing me spinning my wheels, Yukinoshita sighed slightly. "You don't get it? I'm referring to Yuigahama." "What? But…she quit," I said.
Yukinoshita swept her hair off her shoulders. The resignation in her eyes had been completely replaced with conviction.
"So what? We only have to get her to join again. Miss Hiratsuka's conditions stated we had to 'fill one position.'"
"Well, I guess, but…" She was right. If we found one person, then the issue would be solved. The bottleneck was the initiative problem. If we didn't get Yuigahama motivated, she wouldn't even swing by the clubroom in the first place.
Perhaps Yukinoshita herself realized this, as she softly put her hand to her chin in thought. "…Anyway, I'll come up with a way to get Yuigahama to come like she used to."
"You're brimming with initiative," I remarked.
Yukinoshita gave me a somewhat self-deprecating smile. "I know… I've only just noticed this recently, but in these last two months, I've grown fond of her, in my own way."
"…"
My mouth definitely fell open there. I couldn't believe Yukinoshita would say something like that.
Maybe my silence flustered Yukinoshita, if the red tint on her cheeks was any indication. "Wh-what? You're looking at me strangely."
"Oh, uh. Nothing. And I wasn't looking at you funny."
"Yes, you were."
"No, I wasn't."
"Correction. Present tense: You still look strange. See you," Yukinoshita said, and she walked away. Hers was not the downcast profile it had been just moments earlier, but rather her usual bold, confident expression.
2 Saika Totsuka's youth romantic comedy is right, as I expected.
Twenty minutes after the teacher had handed down her tyrannical decree, I was in the parking lot, totally confused.
Yukinoshita was right. It would probably be fastest just to somehow motivate Yuigahama to come to the Service Club again. I had no particular objections to her return, personally. I'd already reset our relationship and restored the distance between us to an appropriate level. As long as I maintained that, there shouldn't be any problems.
Okay then, so how were we going to make Yuigahama want to come back? We couldn't just be like, Hey, bring 'er back! drop a lasso around her neck, and drag her away, and if we begged her, Please come back! then things wouldn't be the same. What to do? I ruminated for a while.
But…I didn't know. Should I apologize? I haven't really done anything wrong, though.
When I used to fight with Komachi, it always ended when the guilty party was still kinda ambiguous… Maybe things would stay all nice and nebulous with this, too.
I was giving my head a vigorous scratch without much of an expression on my face when a voice caught me off guard.
"Hachiman? Oh, so it is you!" I turned around to see Saika Totsuka being his bashful self, standing against the shimmering halo of the setting sun. Just by standing there, he transformed dancing specks of dust into motes of light. He was seriously an angel.
His brilliance distracted me for a moment, but I decided to play it cool and composed. "'Sup."
"Yeah. 'Sup!" Totsuka raised a hand in greeting as if trying to copy me. I guess the curt gesture was rather embarrassing to him, as it was accompanied by a shy giggle. Damn it, he is just too cute to handle. "Are you heading home, Hachiman?"
"Yeah. You done with tennis practice already, Totsuka?"
Still in his gym clothes, Totsuka adjusted his racket bag on his back, paused for a moment, and then shook his head. "Practice isn't over yet, but I've got lessons at night…so I left a little early."
"Lessons?"
What kind of lessons? I guess someone as cute as Totsuka could study at the Okinawa Actors School or something and become a pop idol. Okay, I'll buy a hundred of his CDs! Then, once I get the ticket for a handshake, I'll sell them somewhere.
"Umm, it's tennis lessons. Since practice at the school club is only basic techniques."
"Huh… You're pretty serious about tennis, then."
"I-it's nothing that serious… It's just…love."
"Huh? Sorry, could you say that one more time?"
"Um…it's nothing that serious?"
"No, the part after that."
"…I-it's love?"
"Okay, I heard it that time." I pressed the X button in my heart and engraved his words into my soul. I sighed a blissful sigh.
"Hmm?" Baffled, Totsuka tilted his head.
My work was done for now. Mission complete. "Oh, sorry, Totsuka. You have lessons, right? So I guess you're heading out. See you, then." I gave him a light wave, threw my leg over my bicycle, and was about to start pedaling when I felt a tug at my back. I checked to see what it was, thinking my clothes must have gotten caught on something, and found Totsuka grabbing my shirt.
"U-um… My lesson…starts in the evening. So I've still got some time until then… It's near the station… It's really close on foot… Wait, no, what I mean is…do you want to go hang out for a bit?"
"Uh…"
"Well…if you've got the time…"
I don't think anyone could refuse a request phrased like that. If I'd had some part-time job to go to later, I probably would have skipped it. And then things would get awkward at work, and I would end up quitting. If this were an invitation from a girl, first I'd search around the area for the people who'd won the bet against her. Even if I couldn't find any, I'd refuse just in case, though.
But Totsuka's a guy.
…He is a guy.
Well, he was a guy, though. What an absolute relief. When it was Totsuka, no matter how nice he was to me, he couldn't be leading me on, I wouldn't get carried away and confess my love, and he wouldn't cruelly reject me and shatter my heart. Well, if I went around confessing my love or whatever to a guy, it'd shatter my reputation beyond repair.
Suffice to say, there was no reason to refuse. "I'll go. I have nothing to do but read at home, anyway." I really did have surprisingly little to do. It was like, I could read books, read manga, watch DVR'd anime, play video games, and when I got bored, study. It was all incredibly fun, too, which was troubling.
"Oh, great! So…so…then let's go to the station."
"Wanna ride the back?" I asked, lightly patting the luggage rack.
Two guys riding together isn't that rare a sight. It's actually fairly common. That's why even if Totsuka were to sit down on the rack, wrap his arms tight around my waist, and say, Your back is so big, Hachiman, I wouldn't find it the slightest bit unnatural.
But Totsuka shook his head. "I-it's okay. I'm heavy…"
You're obviously even lighter than a girl, though. Or so I was going to say, but I thought better of it and went with "Okay." Totsuka didn't really enjoy being treated like a girl.
"The station's a little far, but let's walk." Totsuka smiled shyly and started off one step ahead of me. I followed him, pushing my bicycle. As we walked, he occasionally turned back to look up at me. He'd take five steps and glance, eight steps and then glance again. …Come on, you don't have to worry like that. I'm behind you.
We rounded the corner by the park near Saize in silence and ascended the ramp to the pedestrian overpass bridge. We kept furtively sneaking peeks at each other like a middle school couple on a date, and I could never find the right moment to speak. It was a bittersweet journey. I felt like I would die from heart palpitations.
The bridge over the highway was a two-tiered structure with the road for vehicles on top and a pedestrian walkway underneath. The wind gusted through, dispersing the exhaust from tailpipes and carrying a cool breeze into the shade.
"This feels nice, huh, Hachiman?" As if he had taken the wind as his signal, Totsuka stopped five steps above me and looked back. His beaming smile was so appropriate for the summer season that I wanted to snap a picture and save it as a jpeg.
"Yeah. This is perfect for napping."
"You sleep so much during breaks, Hachiman. Haven't you slept enough?" Totsuka asked, giggling.
It's not about fatigue, though. I just don't have anyone to talk to or anything to do during breaks, so I figure I'll just sleep. That's all.
"They have a custom of napping in Spain called siestas, you know. They rest in the middle of the day to relieve sleepiness and exhaustion, increasing efficiency during the afternoon. Apparently, businesses just schedule it in like it's a normal thing."
"Wow…so you've put a lot of thought into why you're napping, huh?"
"Uh, well, I—I guess."
Of course, I hadn't at all, and I'd just rattled off something that sounded like I had. I couldn't believe he bought it so easily. It threw me off a bit… I couldn't quite tell if Totsuka trusted me or if he was just gullible. Probably the latter. I was worried one day a bad man would come along and con him. I had to protect Totsuka!
The pedestrian bridge let out right near the station. We proceeded straight down the road at our usual pace. Right about when the station came into view, Totsuka's pace slackened. He seemed undecided as to which way to go.
"So where are we going?" I asked.
"Um…somewhere we can decompress for a little while."
"…Are you stressed?" I wondered why I suddenly felt so guilty… Oh yeah, there was that little incident around the time we first got the family cat. We gave him too much attention, and he started getting bald spots… Maybe that was why our cat still didn't like me. Pets and other cute companions get stressed out if you're overattentive. I'd have to be more careful with Totsuka.
"Uh, um, it's not for me…"
"I don't really know," I replied, "but maybe karaoke or an arcade or something."
"Which would you rather do?" Totsuka asked, unable to choose.
I considered for a moment. Karaoke and arcades are both pretty good for letting off steam. It's nice to silently input a string of songs alone and break into a light sweat as you sing your heart out. But once you've finished about five, both your throat and your spirit are worn out, and then when the staff brings your drink order, it's incredibly awkward. And then once that's over, you get assailed by the brutal sense of What am I doing…?
And then there's arcades. They're effective de-stressing spots. Well, except for how the regulars monopolize the fighting games, and if some peasant dares to join, the more experienced players just obliterate them. The quiz games are kinda fun. Recently, online play has become the default, so you can even do nationwide tournaments. It's really nice to mutter to yourself, Heh, ignorant fools! as you rise through the rankings. And then you lose yourself in a game of Shanghai and try to conquer the Great Wall of China, and before you know it, three hours have passed, and you've wasted your time in the best way possible. That same What am I doing…? feeling afterward is marvelous.
Problem is, whichever path you choose, you wind up asking yourself, "What am I doing…?"
In a dilemma reminiscent of Dotch Cooking Show, I was compelled to make a final decision: karaoke or the arcade. But this was Chiba, so as you would expect, there was a solution for times like these.
"Well, if we go to Mu Continent, they have both," I suggested. I guess you could call the Mu a sort of general amusement facility. Besides karaoke and arcade games, they also had bowling, billiards, and even a bar. But since it was always full of people, there were some skeevy types, too, so you had to watch out for yourself.
"Okay… Let's go to the Mu, then," Totsuka replied.
Thus invited, I pushed my bicycle through the station roundabout and parked it in the Mu bicycle racks. We took the elevator to the top and decided to wander around the arcade first. The moment we set foot in the hall, we were instantly inundated with the sounds of the new world unfurling before us: flashing lights, rising tobacco smoke, and laughter that refused to disappear into the din. In front of us was the crane game corner. I saw a couple screeching and squealing to each other as they manipulated the claw, and I instantly wanted to leave. Damn it, where's a delinquent when you need one? Please come beat these guys up. And after that, all of you please get arrested and tear each other apart.
The guy was apparently having a hard time, because he convinced the staff to move the stuffed animal he was aiming for. Lately, I hear they'll even catch it for you. Kids these days have it so easy… Totsuka and I slipped by them and headed to the video game corner.
"Oh, wow…" Totsuka gushed. I was used to this landscape, but apparently, it was new for him. In front of us were the fighting games, in the back were the table machines for puzzle games and mah-jongg, and in between them were the shooters. To the right was the arcade for collectible card games. Among all these options, the card machines seemed to have the biggest crowd. The fighting games and mah-jongg were somewhere in the middle, and the quiz machines were sparsely populated. The ones you had to watch out for were the shooters and the puzzle games. Sometimes some ghostlike guy would materialize out of the ether and hammer out some crazy high score and draw a loose crowd of onlookers.
"What do you usually play, Hachiman?"
"Me? Quiz games and Shanghai, I guess." Of course I didn't say strip mah-jongg. Anyway, quiz games were a safe choice if we wanted something to play together. My perennial favorite, Magic Academy, was right beside the fighting game enclave. "Over here, Totsuka!" It was loud in the arcade, so I waved, too.
Totsuka nodded, curled his fingers into the hem of my shirt, and followed me. Um… It seems to be Totsuka's first time here, so I guess he just has to do that to avoid getting lost. Yeah, there's nothing abnormal about it. It's extremely natural. Super-natural.
As we slid by the fighting game enclave, I caught sight of a familiar coat. Its owner had crossed his arms arrogantly, wrist weights peeking out of his sleeves, and his samurai-style topknot swayed with each contrived chuckle from his lips. He and a few others were watching someone playing a round, occasionally whispering to each other.
"Um, Hachiman… Is that Zaimo—?"
"Nope." I cut Totsuka off as he questioned me with a silent Huh?
The figure in the coat was indeed familiar. But he was no acquaintance of mine. The guy I knew couldn't pull off fun social interactions like that. I mean, he had no friends.
"You think? It seems like Zaimokuza to me, though…"
"Ah, no, Totsuka, don't say his name…"
"Oh-ho? I hear a voice calling me… U-u-u-unbelievable! 'Tis Hachiman!"
He noticed us.
Sensitivity to the sound of one's name is a special trait of loners. Because the loner does not often hear his name, he reacts dramatically in the rare event the word is uttered. Source: me. I get so startled my reaction is completely ridiculous, like Y-yeeeks! It's so bad that when I ride the Sobu line and the announcer says, "Next stop, Ichigaya," I have to stop myself from replying.
"To think we would meet in a place such as this! Why are you here? This place is a battlefield… Only those who have steeled themselves for battle might set foot here."
"Uh, Totsuka invited me, that's all." I did not play along with Zaimokuza's obnoxious little act. Or rather, I just ignored it.
Zaimokuza's face fell slightly. You're not cute, okay? "So, Hachiman, what quest brought you here?"
"Oh, we just came to hang out."
"What?! Wait. Master Totsuka is with you?" Zaimokuza's eyes flared in exaggerated surprise and landed on Totsuka.
Totsuka twitched and hid behind me. "Y-yeah…"
"Oh-ho. Wait one moment." Zaimokuza ran off at a trot, a questionable smirk on his face. Apparently, he was going to say good-bye to the people he'd been chatting with. In less than five minutes, he was back, chortling bizarrely. "Now then, let us sally forth."
"Uh, you're not invited… At all."
Zaimokuza had decided at some point that we were a trio and must have been too exhausted to hear my gentle protests. His shoulders heaved as he wiped his sweat with a sleeve.
"Hey, Zaimokuza, was that guy your friend?"
"Nay. He is an Arcanabro."
"No, I'm not asking for his nick."
"Hum? 'Tis no nickname. That would be 'Ash the Hound Dog.'"
"Lame…"
"It comes from this one time where after KO'ing his foe in Tekken, the loser freaked out at him, kicked and punched the machine, and flung an ashtray at him, but he made this great catch, which just made the guy hate him even more. And then he got beat up. He's a regular here at the Mu. I know not his real name because everyone calls him Ash."
"Oh, I see…" Wow. That was probably the most useless piece of information I have ever learned. I can't think of a single instance where I would ever need to know the Origin of Ash.
"Then what's an Arcanabro?" Totsuka asked the very question lurking in my mind.
And also, Zaimokuza, don't just assume that I understand your specialized vocabulary. I didn't really want to know everything about it, so I wasn't about to ask myself, though.
"Well, it means people who are into the same game," Zaimokuza replied. "You use it for both game titles and geographical regions. For example, among Arcanabros, the Chibabros in particular are garbage.
Sorta like that."
The Chibabros are trash? But I love you, Chibabros. Mostly the Chiba part.
"Hmm, so are you friends?" I asked.
"Nay, we are Arcanabros."
"Does that not mean you're friends…?" Talking with Zaimokuza was draining. We were both Japanese, so why did he not seem to understand the words coming out of my mouth? And what language was Arcanabro from? I guess the bro part meant they were supposed to be like some kind of family? Well, I guess all that mattered was that the term referred to a group of people.
Zaimokuza contemplated my question for a bit. "Hmm, I know not. When we meet, we converse, and we commune via IM. We venture beyond the prefecture together on trips, but…I know not their real names or what they do, either, because we discuss naught but games and anime. H-hey, are Ash and I friends?"
"That's what I'm asking you… Did they never teach you in school not to answer a question with another question?"
"Ngh, it feels more right to say they are not friends, but rather fighting-game comrades. That is a more reliable term than friend, in my opinion."
"'Fighting-game comrades,' huh…? That makes sense. It's nice." I sort of like that expression. It removes all the ambiguity of the word friends. Quite often things make more sense if you describe them in terms of functions rather than definitions. For example, marriage makes more sense if you express it not in terms of love and romance but as a relationship of mutual benefit, or having an ATM or doing it for appearances or because you want kids. Wow, an ATM, though.
That's harsh, man.
"Indeed. Basically, this means that you and I are gym class pairbros."
"Uh…I see." I didn't particularly care for that profoundly lame way of putting it. Basically, he was saying that among Soubu High bros, the gym class bros in particular were garbage. But the pronouncement clarified that Zaimokuza and I were not friends, at least, so that was good. If we were gym class pairbros, well, there you had it.
"Then, Hachiman," said Totsuka, "if I'm paired with you in gym class, then I'll be a gym class pairbro, too!"
"Huh? I—I see…" So I wasn't friends with Totsuka… I'm shocked.
But hold on a second here. If we're not friends, then there's still a chance that we're lovers. Great! No, wait, that's not great.
"It's kind of amazing you can get to know more people through video games, though," Totsuka continued.
"Hmm. Y-you think?" Totsuka's comment startled Zaimokuza.
"Yeah, I agree, it's amazing," I said. "I thought gaming was a more solitary thing."
"Nay, 'tis not. With fighting games there is this national team tournament we call 'the Melee.' Things get quite intense. Once, a band of warriors fought together for their very ill comrade and emerged victorious. It was so touching, it sent the entire venue into an uproar. It even brought a tear to mine eye."
"That's almost like Koshien," I remarked. Huh… Surprising as it is, Zaimokuza has his own brand of community.
"Wow, that's so amazing…" Totsuka gushed and clapped his hands.
Then Zaimokuza really started to get carried away. Babbling on and on about your own area of expertise is a bad habit us loners have. "'Tis indeed so! Games are marvelous wonders, and not just fighting games. First, comrades unite to bring them into being, and then even more come to enjoy them, and then from that group of fans are born the creators of the next generation. Such a beautiful circle of gaming, is it not? I intend to one day be one of those creators."
"Huh?" said Totsuka. "Are you going to make video games, Zaimokuza? Wow!"
"Eh…ehum! Mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"
Uhh…huh? "What happened to your dream of becoming a light-novel writer?"
"Oh, that. I gave up," he declared without missing a beat.
"Why the sudden change of heart?" I asked.
"Hmph, because a light-novel writer is self-employed, after all. There's no job security, and you know not how many years you can carry on. And most important, if you don't write, you cannot earn money. 'Tis rough. But employment at a game company is enough to receive a salary!"
"You're so pathetic, I'm actually impressed…"
"Feh! I don't want to hear that from you, Hachiman!"
Well, of course. His plan was one of a similar ilk as becoming a househusband to escape work. "But you don't have the skills to make games."
"Hrrm. That is why I shall write the script. That way, I can well employ my ideas and literary talents. I'll have a stable income and make what I want, with the company's money!"
"I—I see… Good luck with that…" I really didn't care anymore. I was an idiot for taking his dreams for the future seriously, even for a moment.
"Anyway, Hachiman, you came to divert yourself here, right? This is my domain, so I shall show you about to your heart's content. Is there naught you're keen to play?" Apparently, Zaimokuza figured this was a good time to take the initiative, as he was brimming with gusto. There was no point in a tour, though. A quick look around was enough to see what was available, so the gesture was laughably unnecessary.
"Oh, I want to do the purikura." Totsuka, who had been scanning the arcade like me, was pointing to the little photo booths in the far back on the left. "Do you…want to take some pictures over there, Hachiman?"
"Why…? I mean, there's a sign that says the area is only for girls and couples." The photo booth corner was a no-boys-allowed area. Only groups of girls or couples were allowed in. What discrimination. A modern-day apartheid. The UN needs to rectify this posthaste.
So there we were, a group of three boys. We fulfilled exactly none of the requirements.
"Y-yeah, but…we could sneak in. Or…is that really bad?"
"Well, not exactly…" If he was gonna ask me like that, refusing might be harder than smuggling ourselves in.
"Mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha! Worry not, Hachiman. I told you, this is my territory. You shall pass, if you are with me."
"What? You can do that? Wow, you're amazing. I guess you're an old hand at this, so I'll just let you handle everything." Apparently, his regular haunting of this arcade had borne fruit. It was kind of cool that the staff all recognized him. I'd expected nothing less of the great Zaimokuza.
"Leave it to me and follow my lead," Zaimokuza declared, and with him at the vanguard, we proceeded toward the purikura corner. His grand and stately carriage overflowed with confidence, alleviating us of any lingering unease. He advanced with a dignity that warranted the term majestic. I'd expected nothing less of the great Zaimokuza.