1
All of a sudden, the tranquility of the Hikigaya household collapses.
Sprawled out atop the wooden floorboards, I clacked away on the laptop. The independent research project was almost done. I just had to format it, and it would be complete.
Not that the project was mine. My high school had only assigned me a measly few math problems, and I finished those off quickly enough just by copying down the answers. It's fine. I'm aiming for a private arts college; I don't need math.
Anyway, this project was for my little sister, Komachi.
As for the girl in question, she was curled up beside me to recoup her energy after studying for her high school entrance exams. She was playing with our cat, Kamakura, gently tossing him up like a baby and smooshing his toe beans and stuff.
Why you little… And I'm doing all this work for you… Why don't I smoosh your toe beans, too?!
Well, I did want her to focus on her entrance exams, so this one was on the house, at least. Common sense would dictate that such an assignment is pointless unless the assignee does it herself—and common sense would be right—but when it comes to my sister, conventional wisdom is obsolete.
Ethics and logic don't amount to much here: You write the character for "younger sister" by combining the radicals for "woman" and "not yet."
In other words, she is a woman whose future has just begun, and ultimately, she is also the last among her kin: She is the alpha and omega. She is the origin and yet the ultimate. You could even call her the final form of femininity. And her position as the pinnacle of womankind cements the little sister's rank as first or second among all living beings, and no way could I oppose one of those. And thus, I prove the theory of little sister supremacy.
Anyway, that was why I was responsible for the majority of Komachi's independent research project.…But really, why am I doing this? Oh, of course. Perhaps the art of using people and cultivating social connections for personal gain is also a part of her studies.
These thoughts and others floated through my head as my fingers moved across the keyboard, finishing off the inane report on a pleasant note. All right, now all I have to do is sign it with Komachi Hikigaya's name. I gave the enter key a good SLAM to save the file and then pushed the whole laptop over toward Komachi.
"I finished your project. Be sure to check it over."
"Okay." Komachi rolled and lolled over the floor until she was beside me. She looked at the screen, bobbing her head with a periodic mmhmm, mm-hmm, but then she froze mid-nod. "Bro," she began slowly. Her voice was lower in pitch than I'd ever heard it, but the grin on her face was terrifyingly radiant. "What is this?" she asked.
Her question triggered a primeval anxiety in me. "U-um…I was trying to make it Komachi-like…," I replied.
Her shoulders trembled. "Komachi-like? So this is what you think of me… I'm in shock! Total shock!" She groaned and clutched her head and started rolling around on the floor. It was cute enough that I watched her antics for a while, but then she leaped to her feet and jabbed an aggressive finger at me. "Wait, it's not Komachi-like at all, though! Those last two bits were all you!"
I see; so that was a no-go after all. Yeah, I had a feeling it wouldn't work. Wait, does that mean the first half was comparatively believable for Komachi? That's even more surprising. "Fine, I'll do it over," I said. "Just gotta get it done, right? Yeah, yeah, I'll take care of it. It's not even my job, but I'll shut up and do it."
"Hey! Don't give me that half-assed attitude! You sound like some low-ranking office drone!" Komachi was hopping mad, hands on her hips. But after a long-suffering sigh, she groaned with an apologetic expression. "…Well, it was my homework in the first place, so I'll take it from here. Thanks for doing this much."
Her good attitude about it made me wish I'd done a proper job, too. No matter how annoying the project was, once I accepted it, maybe I should have done it properly, I thought uncharacteristically. "Well, actually…," I said, "I kinda stopped caring at the end and just wrote whatever… I'm sorry, though. I'll do my best to help you."
The moment I said that, Komachi's eyes lit up like those of a yamapikaryaa. That's what we call Iriomote wildcats around here.
Yamapikaryaa!
"I thought you would say that!" she exclaimed. "This is why I love you, Bro!"
"Yeah, yeah. I love, love, really love, super love you, too," I replied casually. Her usual Komachi points were exploding everywhere, and I was slightly fed up with it. Well, I had already done the research, so I could write the conclusion, at least.
As I gave her the rundown on the project, the cat padded over to us and apathetically plopped himself down in front of the monitor. Why do cats always stand in front of TVs and climb on top of newspapers?
"Komachi," I said.
"Roger!" She saluted and began executing her stratagem to relocate Kamakura. She seized him in her arms, and the cat wriggled in an attempt to escape. In Japanese, cat hair is an idiom that describes any fine, soft hair, and of course a real cat's hair is silky. But when Komachi swiftly began skritching his neck, he let his guard down and allowed her to continue into a full-on petting session. Utterly cheerful, Komachi hummed as she carefully stroked him from head to tail.
"Heh-heh-heh!" she chuckled. "What a bad little boy you are, coming to bother us! "
"In cat years, he's already middle-aged, though." What age is he again? It's been four or five years since we got him… Well, that's life. In human years, he'd probably be around Miss Hiratsuka's age. I should introduce them.
Finally free to start on my own stuff, I handed the project materials to Komachi. The time was nearly eleven AM, and I had to get ready for my summer class in the afternoon. I got changed into whatever was closest, and that's when the doorbell rang. Oh, is it Amazon coming again to deliver after they missed me the last time? It's uncanny how they show up whenever I'm not around. Like, are you ninjas or something?
When I opened the front door all ready to sign for my package, I found an unexpected visitor.
"Y-yahallo!" With her bleached-brown bun, summery clothes, and a large carrier in both hands, Yui Yuigahama was idly yet selfconsciously waiting.
"H-hey…," I replied. This was so unexpected, I didn't quite know how to respond. Neither did she, and an awkward silence ensued. The only people who ever came to our door were the delivery guy and the lady next door who drops off notices from the neighborhood association, so I couldn't believe that someone from school had actually stepped into my private domain. An analogy would be like seeing a gazelle at the aquarium. Gazelles are only supposed to show up on the savanna, at zoos, or in Kinnikuman Nisei.
Tightly grasping the open door, I feigned composure and asked, "Did you need something?"
This would be the second time Yuigahama had visited my house. The first time was after the traffic accident I've mentioned previously, when she came to say thank you. I didn't meet her in person back then, though.
"U-um…is Komachi here?" she asked.
My sister must have invited her over for something. "Komachi, dear! Your friend is here!" I called in my best mom-voice.
Komachi pitter-pattered down the stairs to us. Sometime since I'd seen her last, she had changed her entire outfit. Weren't you wearing nothing but a T-shirt a second ago?
"Yui, hello!" she said. "Come in, come in! Please, make yourself at home."
"Yeah, thanks! W-well. Sorry to intrude…" Despite announcing her intent to come in, though, Yuigahama seemed a little hesitant. She quietly took a breath as if to steel herself and then stepped up into the house. Come on, it's not like it's a major dungeon.
Once inside, Yuigahama glanced about curiously. Stop that. You don't have to touch the wooden carved bear or anything.
A stranger's house is a mystery zone, an outer zone, a twilight zone.
You get culture shock when you enter another way of life, right? Yuigahama was taking in everything, even the totally ordinary stuff like the stairs, windows, and walls. With every glance, she mumbled "Huh…" or "Whoa…" It was mildly irritating.
Even after she was escorted to the living room on the second floor, she did not settle down, and her gaze darted all over. But when it hit the bookshelf, she stopped and stared at it. She slid her finger along the surface, a little taken aback. "Whoa, it's stacked with books."
"My dad and brother both like reading, so we're always collecting more," Komachi replied from the kitchen counter.
I didn't feel like we had so many, but Yuigahama didn't exactly strike me as a bibliophile…
It's extremely rare for a guest to visit our house. Our family is as modern as it gets: Both our parents work, so we don't really get to know anyone nearby. When I run into the neighbors on the street, I'll give them a bow, at least, but I know basically nothing about them beyond their names.
Which means I have no idea what the protocol is when you have a guest. I guess I'm nothing but a rude and brash fool. I might even end up spilling ashes all over the mortuary tablet at my dad's funeral. Aw, shucks, that makes me sound like some major historical figure. This is totally irrelevant, but people who get all self-important and start going on about how "Edison got bad grades in school!" never seem to have any other skills, either. The more you know.
I pulled out a chair and offered it to Yuigahama to silently suggest Why don't you take a seat? I'm not used to this, so I can't help being terse. I'm like some boy from the sticks handing an umbrella to a city girl in the middle of the rain. I might even follow it up with "Haven't you heard? You're living in a haunted house!"
"Th-thanks." Yuigahama gracefully sat down, and Komachi came back from the kitchen, setting a cup on the table before her with a tap. The ice in the barley tea clinked.
"So, what are you here for?" I asked. I had no idea why Yuigahama would come here.
Yuigahama indicated the large carrier she clasped carefully on her lap. "Um, it's about Sablé. I asked Komachi to help me out with him," she said, and then she opened the box.
A creature of indescribable and profane fuzziness leaped out, crawling in my direction, its chaos embodied in brown fur, round eyes, short legs, and a little waggy tail. In another age, it would have been the most noble of animals: the dog.
Yuigahama's pet, Sablé, locked onto me and hurtled forward. Am I Frisky Mon Petit or what? The dog was booking it straight for me with everything he had, and he did not stop.
Sablé uses Tackle! It's super effective! Hachiman fainted!
He knocked me down hard, and I peeled the dog off as he continued slobbering all over me. I raised him up, but I could see his tail was still vigorously wiggling.
"What's with this dog?" I asked. "Wait. Has its fur gotten shorter?" I got the impression he'd gotten one size smaller since I'd seen him two months ago. Had he been using the Beast Spear, then, or something?
"Oh yeah," said Yuigahama. "Sablé is long-haired, so we got him a summer cut."
"Uh-huh…" Well, he can get a somersault or an uppercut or a spinning pile driver if he wants. "So why'd you bring your doggy here?"
Even after I released Sablé, he wheeled around and around my ankles, refusing to go away. He was so stubborn, I didn't know what to do. Woof, woof, wa-woof. I shot Yuigahama a look that pleaded, Come on, do something.
"Sablé, come here," she called to him, and when he went over to her, she scooped him up and began gently petting him as she continued speaking. "My family is going on a vacation together."
A family vacation, huh…? There's a term loaded with nostalgia. I never thought I'd hear about those in high school, but I suppose I didn't have anyone to talk to about it in the first place, anyway, no, sir. "Your family sounds close," I said. "Not like us."
"You're the one getting left behind, Bro," Komachi said without missing a beat.
Yuigahama shivered. "I'd expect nothing less from you, Hikki…," she muttered. The way she put it, it sounded almost respectful. Whoa, maybe she has an eye for people, I thought, but nope, her eyes were just pitying me.
"That's not true," I protested. "This one time in middle school, I said I wasn't going, and then, well, they just never took me after that." I hadn't been going through a rebellious phase or anything. It just felt oddly embarrassing to go on a trip with my family. That's why I said no. But the old man was freaking thrilled… Well, never mind my dad.
We're talking about Yuigahama's vacation. "So what about this trip of yours?" I asked.
"Oh yeah," she said. "While we're away, I was hoping you guys could take care of Sablé." Eyes upturned, she asked me, "No?"
I am The Japanese That Can Say No: capable of refusing most requests. But confronted with Komachi's beaming smile as she petted Sablé, I found it hard to turn Yuigahama down.
Still, I couldn't just obediently comply with her demands and hand her an instant yes. There are no instant answers in life.
"…You don't have to take him all the way out here, though. We're pretty far." I'm sure she's got lots of friends, and I hear these days you can find pet hotels all over.
"Yumiko's never had a pet, and neither has Hina. I tried asking Yukinon, but she said she can't really do it because she's at her parents' house…" Yuigahama faltered for a moment, looking uneasy.
Well, Yukinoshita is scared of dogs, so even if she weren't at her parents' house, I doubt she would've agreed to do it… No, maybe she actually would've been like, "Leave it to me!" and then oh-so-timidly offered him food.
As I entertained myself with these pleasant mental images, Komachi noticed Yuigahama's sudden silence and urged the other girl to continue. "Has something happened with Yukino?" she asked.
Yuigahama hesitated before uncertainly looking my way. "Y-yeah… Hikki, have you been in touch with her?"
"No, I don't even know her number." I don't have a messenger pigeon, so unless I put a letter in a bottle and set it adrift on the waves, I would have no way of getting a hold of her. I silently asked Komachi, What about you? But she shook her head.
"I e-mail and call her a lot, though," said Yuigahama.
"Did something happen?" I asked.
"When I call her, I get her voice mail, and then she'll send me an email after. She takes a long time to reply…and when she does, it's like, it just seems halfhearted? When I invite her to hang out, she always has plans…"
"Uh-huh…" Look, she's avoiding you. I mean, that's basically just how the kids in my class reacted back in middle school when I tried to keep in touch. Or so I wanted to say, but I decided against it. Yuigahama had obviously already realized that Yukinoshita was trying to push her away. She's so good at reading people and blending in, there's no way she wouldn't figure out the most basic tells.
"I wonder if I did something…?" She laughed weakly.
"Don't stress over it too much. She might just have a lot on her plate, dealing with her family. When school starts again, I'm sure things will just work themselves out." It was an uncharacteristically encouraging thing for me to say. I'm good at spouting offhand, unsubstantiated remarks. It's like that old saying, "He's full of eight hundred lies." Except with me, it's eighty thousand. 'Cause I'm Hachiman. They should make that a thing.
Well, that wasn't necessarily a total lie. Things did look rough with Yukinoshita's family. There was that little episode around two weeks prior, at the beginning of August. We had all been saying our farewells after the camping trip, when Haruno Yukinoshita, her older sister, came to take her back home. None of us had seen the younger sister since then. And I was still having flashbacks about that black limo that drove off with them.
There had been a car accident one year ago involving me and Yuigahama…and the one responsible was in a black limo. I didn't know if that vehicle and the one we'd seen two weeks ago were one and the same. All that connected the two cars was my hazy memory. I had no proof of anything. There were no testimonies, no statements, no explanations, nothing.
A few humorless moments passed. Even after my half-assed attempt at encouragement, Yuigahama's worries hadn't subsided. "I—I guess…"
"Not that I have any idea," I said.
"Why do you have to be like that? You're so apathetic." Yuigahama gave me an exasperated smile.
I really don't know, though. I don't know Yukino Yukinoshita. Of course, I know about her on a superficial level. I know her name, her face, that she has good grades, that she keeps people at a distance, that she likes cats and Grue-bear, that she has a sharp tongue, and that she can be a little absentminded. But that's how it is. You can't act like you know someone based off that alone. Just as no one understands me, neither do I understand them. You can't forget that.
And what does it take to be able to say you "know" someone, anyway?
As I descended into a maze of contemplation, I heard some shrill little yips. When I turned to investigate the initial cry, a low, rumbling noise soon followed. Sablé and Kamakura were running in circles around Komachi, engaged in a contest of intimidation. Kamakura had his Get-Away-from-Me Barrier up, but Sablé destroyed it with a LoveLove-Kamakura Beam and gave chase. Komachi, smiling and amused as she watched them, did not make any particular attempt to stop them.
So I'm gonna have to deal with this for a while now, huh…?
Yuigahama must have picked up on my chagrin. "S-sorry. I thought about taking him to a pet hotel, but it's holiday season, so they're all filled up," she said apologetically with a laugh.
"And that's where I come in, Bro." Thump! Komachi gave a smug chuckle and arrogantly whacked a fist against her small chest with gusto. Why are you acting so weirdly dependable? Are you the ship captain or what?
Sigh. Well, it sounded like she e-mailed Yuigahama a lot, so it probably just came up during their conversation.
"If we don't do this now, we won't have any opportunities all summer. Chance," Komachi muttered quietly. I suspect her eyes may have sparkled there, but I was more distracted by her use of Zaimokuza's verbal tic, chance. Has the virus spread from me to others? I don't want it to become a thing… Total sacrifice.
"Well, if you don't mind, then whatever," I said. This was my shrewd little sister here. She'd probably already dealt with our mother. If she'd already defeated Mom, then the only remaining obstacle was our dad, and he was putty in her hands. In the Hikigaya household, the eldest son has no part in the decision-making process. There is a perfect hierarchy in place, and it goes Mom, Komachi, the old man, and finally, me. Oh, and of course, His Highness the Cat is up at the very top. To him, humans are but pawns.
"Anyway, we can take care of him or whatever, but what should we feed him?" I asked. "Vita-One? Frontline? Whoa, not Pedigree, right? We're not that fancy, you know."
"Why do you know so much about dog food?" Yuigahama asked. "Wait… Frontline is flea treatment! I dunno about this…" She seemed to be rethinking her decision, if her worried expression was any indication.
Komachi smiled, attempting to placate her. "It's okay! He used to have a dog."
"Y-you did?" asked Yuigahama.
"Sort of," I replied. It was a long time ago, though. My memories were vague. Actually, I think it was mostly my parents and Komachi who cared for it.
A hint of warmth crept into Yuigahama's smile. "Wow. I'm kinda surprised."
"My brother likes cats and dogs. It's just people he hates…" Am I a certain former spirit detective now…?
Well, she's not wrong. I don't hate cats or dogs. I suppose they would even fall under the category of things I like. Especially cats.
Friends, I like cats. No, friends, I love cats! I love American shorthairs. I love tortoiseshells. I love sphynxes. I love Ragdolls and American curls; I love Scottish folds and Persians; I love Singapuras and Russian blues. Cats in alleys, in little cat huts, on cat towers, on top of fridges, on beds, on veranda railings, in cardboard boxes, in paper bags, on people's backs, on futons—I love every single cat that lives upon this earth.
You know, abuse of animals is unforgivable to me. People who don't cherish living beings can go and die. I hate anyone who doesn't value life!
As I composed impassioned speeches in my head, Yuigahama
abruptly let a smile slip. "Well, that's a relief. It looks like Sablé likes you, too."
"Don't expect too much. I'm better at being taken care of than doing the caring. You could even call me a professional dependent," I replied.
I've been a dependent for seventeen years now. I can't think of any other way to live. Once you've spent your formative years relying on others, there's no going back. I ruffled Sablé's fur as he showed off his tummy and lolled around on his back beside me. But Komachi snatched him away.
"Well, you leave Sabby to me! It won't be long before he can't live without me!" Komachi was fully intent on seducing this dog away.
"I don't really want that, but… Okay, well, I'm leaving him to you." Despite her obvious apprehension, Yuigahama gave a quick bow, and her eyes darted to the inside of her wrist to check the time. "Oh, I have to get going. My parents are waiting."
"All righty, then," said Komachi. "I'll see you off."
Watching them out of the corner of my eye as they went down the stairs, I fished around in the carrier Yuigahama had left us. There was dog food inside, plus everything else we'd need to take care of him.
By the way, he eats Science Diet. His lifestyle is healthier than mine…
As for the canine in question, he was prowling and snuffling around the room. Oh, guess he smells the cat. As for Kamakura, he had apparently escaped the dog and was now on top of the refrigerator, gazing down on me and Sablé with languid eyes. I doubt he hated Sablé or even had much interest in him at all. He just kept his distance, kept alert, because he didn't know to approach the other animal. That faintly reserved gaze was familiar to me.
It had been Yuigahama's birthday, so I remembered it well.
It was a rare clear day during the rainy season. Silhouetted by a sunset red as guilt, she had smiled sadly. She drew a definite line then, I know.
It meant that we, the victims, were not like her.
Only now was I finally beginning to understand what that boundary was.
2
Sure enough, he's forgotten Saki Kawasaki.
It was early afternoon during summer vacation, and the train was less crowded than usual. I rode past a few stations to Tsudanuma and passed through the ticket gates, turned right, and joined the sparse current of people moving forward.
At the Tsudanuma campus of Sasaki Seminar, they held a summer course for second-year high schoolers. Most students thinking about entrance exams would already have begun preparing for them around then. Still, we were only second-years, so the mood was fairly relaxed. Once you hit third year, things get tense. If you fall asleep in class, they might even kick you out of the room. And after that, they take you to this little reception area where the lecturer goes off at you and the tutor is like, "…Will you switch lectures?" and you can tell they're scolding you. Or so I've heard on the Internet.
This particular class was for high school second-years aiming for selective private universities. The room was deserted.
Each course was five days long. English and Japanese were combined into one five-day course, and there was another optional five-day course for social studies. I had already finished social studies a little while ago, and now I was starting on English/Japanese.
When I entered the room, I didn't notice anyone there, so I took up my position in the front row, closest to the door. As a rule, the desks in the back are the VIP seats, so to speak. The prevailing wisdom is that the biggest clique will occupy them. Any involvement with them invites great suffering, so I always go with the front row or the exact center of the class. Even in the front row, the rightmost and leftmost seats are often blind spots, so that's where a loner should set his sights. Though it is a little hard to see the blackboard from there, it's easier to concentrate in class. I mean, since nobody comes to talk to you, you're inevitably forced to concentrate. In fact, it ends up being a decent spot.
I immediately set out my textbook and notebook and rested my face on my hand for some light zoning out before the start of the lecture. Watching the others pleasantly chatter away with their friends, I patiently waited for the appointed time.
This tranquility would probably be gone by this time next year. It had been like that during entrance exams for high school, too. People were secretly talking smack about anyone who had already gotten a recommendation and secretly cursing the people who were going to pass. I was certain that in our final year, it would just be the same thing. Four years after that, it would happen again when we started job seeking. Three years, seven years may pass, but I doubt the true nature of man will ever change.
But let's leave the past for now. What I needed to be focusing on were the things in front of me. First of all, the university entrance
exams. Early birds would be shifting their focus toward college admissions this summer. It was time to pull that mental switch. My goal for now was the Center Test. Position the Center as target and pull the switch… Position the Center as target and pull the switch… Position the Center as target and pull the switch…
As I simulated the entrance exam mentality with hollow eyes, I caught sight of someone in my periphery, and I came to my senses. It was as if someone had yelled at me, Idiot! You hid the enemy with your own smoke!
Her waist-length, blue-tinged black hair was tied up in a ponytail, and her long, lithe legs drew the eye. She wore a shirt with three-quarter sleeves and denim shorts over leggings, and she had a backpack slung loosely over one shoulder. Her sandals dragged over the ground with her languid stride as she passed by me and then stopped. Something about the pause was unnatural, so I looked at her.
"So you're in this class, too," she said in a sleepy-sounding voice as she threw me a chilly glance. Below one of her ill-humored eyes was a mole like a teardrop.
I feel like she looks familiar. Who is she again?
"I should thank you, though. I'm grateful," she continued.
I had no idea why she was thanking me, but nothing indicated she had the wrong person. It's very rare for someone to speak to a loner. Usually, it doesn't happen except in the most extreme of circumstances.
"Thanks to you, I got that…scholarship?" She fumbled over the
English word. "One of those. Things are going well with Taishi, too."
The name Taishi sounded unpleasantly familiar. I consulted my list of people I hate and landed on the name Taishi Kawasaki. Oh-ho, that's the little cockroach that tried to sidle up to Komachi. What was his relationship to this person?
And then, thanks to her bluish-black hair, I suddenly recognized her. Blood Type Blue! Kawa… Kawakoshi? Kawajima? Kawaharagi…? Well, whatever. It's Kawa-something! Her hair was so blue, I thought she was a Gagaga book.
"Naw, you got that scholarship on your own," I replied. As we conversed, I remembered her name: Saki Kawasaki.
"Yeah, but Taishi keeps going on about you, so… Well, whatever, I've said it." That was all she said, as if motivated by a sense of obligation, and then immediately marched away. She was curt, but that was nothing new. Kawasaki doesn't let people get near, always chooses solitude, and exudes the air of a delinquent. And she had initiated the conversation with me.
I felt like she'd softened up quite a bit. Curious about her transformation, my eyes automatically followed her. She took a seat about three rows behind me and pulled out her phone. From the way her fingers were moving, she was probably writing an e-mail. And then she happened to smile.
Huh, so she can smile. She always looks so bored, and her presence is aggressively overbearing. You'd never see her smile like that at school. Actually, I don't recall seeing her at school too much in the first place. Among fellow loners, nonintervention is standard.
While I was watching her, thinking, Huh, what a rare sight to see, our eyes met. Blushing bright red, Kawasaki gave me an intense glare. Eek! She's so scary! I rolled my head like, Man, my shoulders are so stiff! and tried my best to escape. Nope, she hadn't softened up at all. You went to all that trouble to come to prep school, Kawasaki, so try to sand down those sharp corners. Make your square head round.
The English lecture ended, and it was our very brief break period. I headed downstairs and bought a MAX Coffee from the vending machine. Slowly sipping it, I returned to the classroom. Inside, the other kids were spending the time as they pleased—fiddling with their phones, reading, or having staring contests with the modern Japanese textbook for the next class. It was unlike what you'd normally see at school. Overall, a lot of people were by themselves; loners accounted for the majority.
It was a peculiar situation compared with the cram school I had attended the last time I had entrance exams. That had ultimately just been an extension of regular school. Even at these extra classes, the people who never fit in were still ignored in force. During lectures, that same social dynamic was in place. It was exasperating. That class had made me desperate to move on to the upper level. With each move up, the classroom got quieter, and the level of the lectures and the proficiency of the students increased.
Thinking back on it, maybe those lower-level students had just been looking for justifications to be satisfied with the basic classes, so they had flocked together. They turned their friendships into a reason to give up trying, their relationships into an excuse for complacency. It's like when a middle school couple says they want to go on to the same high school, and the smarter one goes to a less competitive school that's on their SO's level. At the time, when I had overheard people suggesting it, I had felt a chill. If you really want what's best for your girlfriend or boyfriend, you shouldn't hold them back or follow their every whim. That's just taking the easy route so they can continue to indulge in their idle and mundane lives.
Eventually, you'll hear through the grapevine that they did go to the same high school and broke up in less than two months. That's absurd. It's such a riot, you're bound to end up with smashed windows. And then they'll try to validate it later by going on about how they were sooo young back then, you know?
Maybe it's because I've watched it happen from an outsider's perspective, but I could never believe in any relationship that's so utterly superficial. It's a convenient excuse, and I don't trust any form of kindness so filled with deceit and so delighted in its own selfsacrifice.
That's why I liked this prep school system. The school maintained an appropriate policy of nonintervention with the students, and the students were all indifferent to one another. They completely did away with any process unnecessary for exam prep. It was fair to say that their goal was maximum efficiency.
At the cram school I went to in middle school, the lecturer and the students were all trying to be friends or something. It sucked… All the other students were on a first-name basis, and I was the only one they all called by last name…
I mean, if students and teachers want to be all buddy-buddy at prep school, it's doable. They've got this tutor system—basically, university students are always working part-time. Apparently, they don't just help you with your studies, they'll also talk to you about your career path. If you want to take part in a poignant studentteacher drama during your entrance exams, you're perfectly free to do so.
Fundamentally, the atmosphere around here is sound and serene. Some might find it cold. For me, it's comfortable. Still, some of my classmates were of Hayama's breed. The way they blathered on to each other at high volume until the class started, it was like someone had urged them to "bring all your friends!"
You can find normie(LOL)-ish people everywhere you go. If you made a distribution map of their habitat, the sprawl would most certainly rival that of potato bugs or wharf roaches. I can't understand why anyone would want to be so mundane.
Good grief, the swarm is everywhere… And they're more active in summer. That's another way they're like insects. I hate bugs, so this season is always a struggle.
When the lecture was over, I was overcome with the characteristic lethargy that testifies to ninety minutes of continuous concentration. The fatigue of studying is unlike the comfortable exhaustion of playing sports. It feels like your head is gradually fogging over. The glucose in my brain was all used up. If I hadn't had that MAX Coffee, things might have taken a turn for the worse. TONE Coca-Cola Bottling should team up with somebody to make a product for exam takers. They'd probably make good money.
Having finished the lectures, I immediately began packing up to go home. This is when the loner is most cheerful.
Fortunately, the Tsudanuma area around the cram school was a fairly developed amusement district, so there were a number of bookstores and a lot of arcades. It was a neighborhood that could keep a high school boy entertained.
As I was considering whether I should make any stops on my way home, a rap, rap sounded on the edge of my desk. When I looked toward the cause, I found a sullen Saki Kawasaki. What? If you have business with me, say something. Are your parents woodpeckers?
"Do you need something?" I asked. She had been sending Ask me! vibes, so I obediently went along with it.
Kawasaki briefly hesitated, sighing.
Come on, if you don't want to talk to me, then don't. What do you want?
"Hey, do you have some time now?" she asked.
"Oh, I have a thing, so." I unconsciously activated my standard refusal line. I automatically react to these things; it's my instinct to refuse all invitations. It's a commonsense behavior in modern society, just like screening any call from an unknown number. When I use that line, in most cases, people will back down easily. Oh, really? Okay…right. Although the lack of resistance really gives the impression that they were only asking to be polite. In fact, sometimes they even imply that they're relieved you said no. Seriously, you guys, take more care with that. In my opinion, sometimes you have to be kind by withholding the invitation.
But I don't think Saki Kawasaki was speaking to me out of politeness. In fact, I got the impression that she didn't engage with that kind of etiquette. Her type doesn't back down, not even before Yukinoshita or Miss Hiratsuka. She pretty much says what she wants.
Kawasaki's languid eyes narrowed sharply. "What 'thing'?"
"Well, uh, like, a thing… Just some, like, stuff with my sister." In desperation, I appealed to Komachi.
Kawasaki gave me a small nod. "I see. That works out perfectly, then. Come with me for a bit."
"Huh?"
With great exasperation, Kawasaki answered my monosyllabic request for more information. "I'm not the one who wants to talk to you. Taishi says he wants to ask you something. He says she's with him in Tsudanuma."
Oh, I see. So that e-mail she was writing was to her brother. So did that little grin midtext mean she has a brother complex or something? Hey, brah, how ya doin'? Yeah, I could see her having a complex about her bra. My flat-chested sister says it's hard to find cute ones in the larger sizes.
"Sorry, but there's no reason for me to spend my time on your little brother."
"I'm saying your sister is with him, though."
"Hey, so where are we going, then? Is it close by? Five minutes' walk? Can we run?" Tell me these things first, geez.
"Seriously…?" She fired an exasperated glare my way.
But I didn't pay her any mind as I leaped to my feet and zoomed out of the classroom.
Kawasaki followed after me. "They're at the Saize right past the exit. Do you know where it is?" she asked.
"Please. I know where every Saize along the Sobu Line is located." I even know the former site of the first branch. Motoyawata is the birthplace of Saize. The shop is no longer there, but the sign is. By the way, I'm so informed about the area, I can even add that the head office and distribution center for Tora no Ana are also around Motoyawata.
When we left the building, a suffocating heat was hovering over the road. There was no wind, and it was like the humidity was bending the sunlight as it blazed down on us. It was in between lectures, and as we merged with the ebb and flow of people around the station, the population density of the neighborhood took a sudden upturn. We didn't talk much as we weaved ahead through the periodic gaps between the human waves. I'm almost always on my own when I'm out, so I'm good at slipping into the vacuums of the crowd as I walk. From here on out, the game will belong to Stealth Hikki, yo!
Komachi and the cockroach were apparently at a nearby Saize. Perfect. They have knives and forks there, so no lack of murder weapons. I could also pie-throw a piping-hot Milan-style cheesy pilaf right in his face. Then I'd just have to put up some on-screen text to reassure everyone that *the staff ate it all afterward! All would be forgiven. And then I'd daub his wounds with spicy chicken sauce.
I could actually feel my soul gem darkening. Whoops, that's not good. At this rate, I'll turn into a witch. Let's think about something nice… Is Magical Girl Saika Totsuka out yet?
Fighting down my impatience, I waited for the traffic light to turn.
Behind me, Kawasaki commented, "Oh yeah. A little while ago, Yukinoshita was taking a summer class, too."
"…Huh. Really?" The name delayed my reaction a little. I'm pretty sure Yukinoshita is aiming to go to a public sciences school. So Kawasaki's taking those courses, too? Well, it's natural to have a broad range of school choices at this point. I'm just narrowing my goal to a private arts school because I'm so dismal at math. By the way, I'm also narrowing my goal for the future to being a househusband.
"She really is hard to approach," Kawasaki commented.
Are you in a position to be saying that? You're constantly emitting a terrifying aura. Never mind the girls—half the boys are scared of you, too, you know?
"What's with that look?" Her listless eyes narrowed and flicked toward me.
"Nothing." Flustered, I turned away.
I could imagine what Yukinoshita and Kawasaki would be like together in the same classroom. Though both of them would attract a lot of attention, I bet neither let anyone get close. Their behavior is similar, but I think their motivations are completely different.
Behind Kawasaki's aggression is a failure to communicate. It's the quintessential tendency of the taciturn. I suspect she's just bad at talking. Seeing her affection for her little brother, you somehow know.
Yukinoshita, on the other hand, has never had any desire to go on the attack at all—her existence itself is an onslaught. Individuals who excel can be overwhelming, awakening jealousy and a sense of inferiority in others. That's what has cut her off from those around her and earned her their ill will. And then to complicate matters, she never fails to push back against the malice. She crushes it. That's Yukinoshita. If Kawasaki's behavior is a threat for the sake of selfdefense, then Yukinoshita's behavior is always absolute retribution.
The light changed to green. When I took a step out, Kawasaki ventured, "Hey…could you thank her for me? In the end, I never did." "Do it yourself."
"I could, I guess. But, well, I dunno… It'd be a little awkward." Her timidity caught my attention, so I looked at her. Her eyes were quietly downcast, and she was walking with her head lowered. "Some people you're just not going to get along with, even if you know they didn't do anything wrong," she said.
"Yeah." That's true. That's why noninterference is the best form of compromise. You can choose to stay out of it for the sake of getting by. Sticking together like glue and smiling and chatting and fooling around and hanging out are not the only possible ways to engage with people. I believe that keeping an appropriate distance in order to avoid hating one another is also laudable.
That's the impression Yukino Yukinoshita left on Saki Kawasaki.
Kawasaki was forced to acknowledge her but could not approach. Kawasaki knew that nothing good would come of it if either of them attempted to reach out. She could be certain the pain they would inflict on each other would serve no purpose, and that's why she tried to avoid contact. It's not running away or sidestepping the issue: It's an indication of respect.
"Besides, we probably won't run into each other for a while," she said. "She's not in this course, so the next time I'll see her is at school, and we're not in the same class. But you'll see her again soon for your club activities, right?"
"No, I don't think I'll see her until school starts again, either." At the very least, we wouldn't be seeing each other on purpose. If you thought about it, that was all there was to our relationship. We wouldn't make contact unless we had to. I didn't even know her number.
We crossed to the other side of the crosswalk and went down a flight of stairs to the basement of the building. Our footsteps echoed quietly.
"Plus, even if we did run into each other, we wouldn't necessarily talk," I said.
"That's true. I don't normally talk to her, either."
"Yup." I mean, if someone starts a conversation with me, I'll give them a proper response. In fact, I'm extremely polite when I engage with people. So polite I come off as creepy. If I know someone is a loner, like Kawasaki, then I can relax and be more casual because I recognize we're of the same breed, I guess.
As we conversed, we reached the basement floor. When we passed through the automatic doors, I saw Komachi nearby in a seat close to the drink bar. As soon as she saw me, she waved her hand. "'Sup, Bro!"
"'Sup," I replied casually, plopping down beside her.
Across from her was a middle schooler with a name reminiscent of Sano Yakuyoke Daishi. When his eyes met with mine, he bobbed his head in a bow. "Bro! Sorry for making you come all this way."
"Don't call me Bro. I'll kill you."
"Hey. Are you trying to start a fight with my little brother?" Waves of rage were rolling off quiet Kawasaki in her seat opposite mine.
She's really glaring at me! These brother-complex types are seriously creepy. People who get overly attached to their family members freak me out. Seriously, dude.
Taishi was busy restraining Kawasaki as she attempted to intimidate me with a growl, so I dinged the bell and quickly took care of ordering.
Two more people for the drink bar. I was too scared of Kawasaki to smash a Milan-style cheesy pilaf in her face, so I gave up on that.
I picked up my cup of joe, as they say in the business, had a sip, and then got down to brass tacks. "So what do you want?" I asked.
"Oh yeah," Taishi replied. "I want you to tell me about Soubu High."
"Come on. Just ask your sister. She's right there," I said. Saki Kawasaki was in my year at the same school as me. I'd probably forget if I didn't remind myself.
"I really want another guy's opinion!" For some reason, Taishi was clenching his fists tight. Why is he so worked up…? He can be as passionate as he likes, but he's not going to get much out of me.
"It's not really anything special," I said. "I think any school would be about the same. Some of the special events might be different, depending on things like how serious they get with the cultural festival and how good the sports teams are." I've never seen any other high schools, so I don't know exactly, but that's my impression. If we're just talking about the regular curriculum in the full-day school system, you could probably fit most schools into the same stereotypical category. Unique programs aside, there's not such a huge difference between them. Personally, my naive mental image of high school and the reality of what it actually ended up being were virtually equivalent. My sole miscalculation was joining the Service Club under duress.
"Huh?" Komachi tilted her head curiously. "But when the school testscore averages are different, doesn't that change the school spirit?"
Well," I replied, "I think as the averages go up, you tend to find fewer delinquent types. Still, some people want to act like delinquents." I casually slid my eyes over to the spot diagonal from me.
Noticing my gaze, Kawasaki glared at me. "Why're you looking at me?" she asked. "I'm not trying to be a delinquent."
So my assumption had been off. Something had convinced me she was about to say, Stop looking at my face. Look at my body. Come on. So my eyes just…
I cleared my throat in an attempt to cover up my intimidation at Kawasaki's sharp eyes and started over. "So basically, all that's different compared with middle school is the ratio of types that make up the student body. And everyone starts acting all high school-ish. That gets annoying."
"Huh? 'Ish'?" Taishi cocked his head as if he couldn't quite parse what I meant.
"I don't know what you're expecting," I said, "but ultimately, most people in high school have this obsession with the 'high schooler' you often seen in fiction, so they put on an act in an attempt to become that. And it just leaves you cold."
I bet that somewhere out there is an unwritten rule. All high school students must be thus!
The Law of the High School Student:
Rule the first: Those who would be in high school are obligated to have a girlfriend or boyfriend.
Rule the second: Those who would be in high school must be surrounded by crowds of friends and be obnoxiously rowdy.
Rule the third: Those who would be in high school must act just like the students on TV and in movies.
Any who disobey the above laws are ordered to commit seppuku.
Something like that.
You could say it's similar to how the Shinsengumi—especially that samurai code fundamentalist Toshizou Hijikata—yearned to be like samurai precisely because they were not in fact samurai.
And if you want to reconcile that ideal with reality, eventually, you have no choice but to be unreasonable. For example, a guy who wants girls to like him will check up on how they're doing and annoy them with e-mails, and when he finds a good opportunity, he'll buy them meals and be loud and make a scene in order to draw attention to himself. Even though, in truth, he might be more of a quiet guy. Or maybe a girl wants to be closer to her friends and wears clothes that are in style (LOL), drags herself to group dates so they have the right number of girls, and acts all excited when she listens to the latest Jpop, even though her tastes might be more modest and reserved. Despite it all, these people put in all this effort because they don't want to be cut off from what's "normal." Because they don't want to remove themselves from the value system that "everyone" shares.
Taishi moaned. "That doesn't sound very nice…" As he listened to me, his expression turned dark and gloomy.
"Well, this is just from the perspective of a twisted guy who overthinks everything," I said. "If you want to make friends, you have to be prepared to sacrifice something." Living a life different from others is difficult in its own way, but going with the flow is really hard. Life is hard.
"Whoops! Everyone's glasses are empty, huh?" Komachi said, as if attempting to lighten up the somewhat heavy mood. Humming cheerfully, she gathered up all the cups and glasses, apparently intending to get refills for everyone.
Kawasaki noticed that and immediately stood up. "I'll come with you. That's a lot for one person to carry." Komachi gratefully accepted the offer, and the pair headed off to the drink bar together. For some reason or another, I watched them go.
Then Taishi lifted his head suddenly as if he had just remembered something. He glanced over at the girls' backs where they stood away from us and then leaned toward me, clearing his throat. "Ahem… It's sorta, I dunno, maybe it's weird to ask you about this, but…," Taishi whispered as a preface. "Be honest—what are the girls like there? Are they cute? Like, that Yukinoshita girl is gorgeous, isn't she?"
Oh-ho, so this was the real issue at hand, huh? So he was so worked up at first because he wanted to talk about this. I considered the question for a bit. Yeah, well, if I had to say, I do feel like there are a lot of cute girls at Soubu High.
Or more to the point, the only girls at school whose looks leave an impression on me are the cute ones and the ones you remember like a punch to the face. I don't really remember the normal ones. "There
are a lot of cute girls," I said. "There's one class called the International Curriculum, and ninety percent of them are girls. So inevitably, there's more girls than guys, meaning there's a higher than normal ratio of pretty girls."
"Whoa! What a dreamy situation!"
Huh? Sounds like the Bandai corporate slogan. "Dreams and Creation" or something like that, right? Anyway, there was something I had to tell him. "But you know, Taishi…" I expressed it as simply and clearly as I could. "Hasn't your mother told you? You might like a cute girl, but she's not going to like you back."
"I—I understand so much now!" Taishi's high spirits suddenly evaporated, and his eyes opened wide as if he had just been granted divine revelation via lightning strike.
"It's vital to maintain a resigned state of mind," I told him. "If pressing on doesn't work, throw in the towel. Your rule of thumb needs to be 'When the going gets tough, give up.'" These days, I also like to say Know others and know thyself, and thou shalt retreat from one hundred battles. "I mean, do you actually think it's possible to get close to a girl like Yukinoshita?"
"You're right… Not for me, at least! She's pretty scary!"
What an open and honest opinion. I'd like to present him with a variety pack of axes.
Yukinoshita is far more unattainable than a flower on a high peak. She's a flower blooming on the Guiana Highlands. Someone who doesn't know much about her might find her rather frightening, seriously overbearing, and highly arrogant. I felt the same way at first…well, um, if you count our encounter in the clubroom as our first meeting, anyway.
Taishi groaned. "Soubu High must be terrifyin' for y'all…"
For some reason, I found Taishi's shivering and faux-Kansai accent rather grating, so I decided to go ahead and keep up the attack. "Your environment might change, but you won't. The whole idea that things will change once you're in high school is an illusion. Stop dreaming." First, I'll destroy that screwed-up illusion of yours! Ha-ha, well, I'd briefly had expectations of that nature, too. But such a high school experience is just a faraway ideal. Offering lessons in reality is its own form of kindness.
"Hey, don't bully him so much," Komachi said as she returned, setting down the drinks and poking me in the head.
Noooo, this isn't bullying; I was just teeeeasing him a little, I muttered in my head, the irritating excuse of a little kid. That's exactly what they say, you know.
Kawasaki sat down beside her brother, put her cup to her lips, and said, "Taishi, don't take him too seriously. And more importantly…what you need to be thinking about is getting in." Taishi flinched once in his chair and groaned.
"Are you expecting to have trouble?" I asked.
Taishi seemed hard-pressed for a reply, so Kawasaki replied instead. "To be honest, right now it's looking a little rough. That's why I'm always telling him to study, but…"
Hanging his head, Taishi slumped and groaned some more.
Komachi came in to encourage him and smooth things over. "It's okay, Taishi! Even if you end up at a different school from me and not Soubu High, I'll still be your friend! I'll be your friend, no matter what!"
"W-we'll be friends no matter what…? O-oh…"
"Yeah, totally friends! Primate, hominid, friend! " She struck the finishing blow.
As her brother, I was okay with that, but as a fellow guy, I almost sympathized with him. His crushed hopes were worthy of some pity. "Well, um, I guess…you need a goal or something?" I suggested. "If you have a clear reason you want to go to that school, you can try harder, right?" I said.
Taishi lifted his head. "A goal?"
"Yeah," I replied. "I can't exactly brag about this, but when I was in middle school, I wanted to go to a school that wouldn't have a single person from my middle school, so I worked my butt off. There's only, like, one person every year that goes from my old middle school to Soubu High."
"You're right—you can't brag about that…" Kawasaki's smile was bitter. I suppose it was the coffee.
"Just so you know," Komachi butted in, "I'm working hard to get in because it's your school, Bro!" The girl took the opportunity to show off.
"Yeah, yeah, I know, I know." I treated her boasting with casual disdain.
Taishi turned back to Kawasaki with a serious expression. "Did you have a reason, too?" he asked.
Kawasaki set down the cup in her hand with a clink. "I… Never mind about me." She had seemed to be thinking about it, but then she swiftly looked away.
I had a vague idea of what her motivation was, though. If she could communicate that to Taishi, maybe it could motivate him, too. "…Well, our school's a pretty good choice if you're aiming for a public university with low tuition fees," I said.
"You keep your mouth shut!" Panicking, Kawasaki glared at me. But her embarrassed blush didn't have much punch to it.
Fool. A glare from a girl with a brother complex is nothing to fear.
That appeared to be enough for Taishi. He gave a small nod. "Oh…"
I'm sure there are lots of different motivations out there—and not just for Saki Kawasaki. Some people just pick whatever. Some are determined to get one particular school. Not everyone deals with the question in a proactive and focused way. But I think that as long as you make the choice yourself, even if it's based on pessimism or a cowardly process of elimination, it's enough.
"I've made up my mind," said Taishi. "I'm going to Soubu High School!" He looked like a burden had been lifted from his shoulders.
"Well, good luck," I said, completely sincere. …Wait, Komachi wants to attend my school, doesn't she? "…If you make it, I'll give you a big hug. Like a sumo wrestler."
"I think he's gonna kill me!" Taishi said, sounding a little scared. His sister moved in to protect him, giving me a rather harsh look.
In an attempt to evade her wrath, I checked the receipt. "Are we done here?" I asked. "Me and Komachi have to get home." According to the clock, it was almost dinnertime. I pulled a thousand-yen bill from my wallet, left it on the table, and stood up.
"Yep!" Taishi rose to his feet and handed me a bill. "Thank you so much, Bro!"
"No, no." I waved his reply away. "The possibility that you'd ever be able to call me 'Bro' completely vanished just a moment ago."
"Wait, that's the part you're saying no to?!" Taishi was shocked.
Komachi watched our exchange out of the corner of her eye, putting her pointer finger on her chin and tilting her head. "Hmm? But if you and Saki get married, Bro, he can call you that, right?"
"D-don't be stupid! Th-that would n-never happen!" I heard someone stuttering behind me as we left the restaurant.
After checking to make sure Kawasaki wouldn't hear, I smirked and muttered, "No kidding. I'd only ever marry a woman willing to support me."
"There it is!" cried Komachi. "Your nasty self-defense mechanisms."
"Hey, cut it out. Don't call it a self-defense mechanism." I mean, it's not a mechanism. Calling it someone willing to support me is an absolute defensive front.
All quiet on the defensive front.
3
Saika Totsuka has surprisingly subdued tastes.
What exactly counts as a boy? That oft-discussed margin is situated on the line between child and adult in the interval known as puberty. But is the line in middle school? How about high school? Or is it getting a full-time job, or turning twenty? If it's after you get a job, I'll be a boy forever.
Anyway, questions like these have no easy answers, but watching anime sprawled out on the sofa as I am right now, I think it's safe to categorize me as a boy. Still, it's untrue to say that watching anime makes you a kid. There are full-fledged adults out there who have even made a career out of it. That's why everyone needs to buy the DVDs, or they won't be able to make any more. Forget about second seasons—the industry as a whole will shrink, and it'll be harder to make new shows at all. Everyone, please do buy Blu-rays and DVDs.
I'm getting sidetracked.
What I'm trying to say is: I believe it's impossible to differentiate man from boy on the basis of hobbies. So what should form the crux of our definition of boy?
There was one particular reason I had come to confront this difficult question. That reason was a single e-mail.
Hello! You free today??
It was only one line, but I'd never seen a text so heartwarming. I wanted to read the Japanese sentence aloud. Heck, I could belt it out in song. It could win an award.
The e-mail I had received from Saika Totsuka the previous night was what had prompted my agonizing over this "boy" problem. What exactly counts as a boy? It was difficult to resolve the issue based on social status, age, or hobby, and furthermore, I had now come to the conclusion that it was even difficult to define a boy on the basis of sex. The laws of the universe mean nothing…
I have not done nearly enough sampling to determine the truth of this matter. Thus, I endeavored to collect further data. I composed a reply that was literally around five hundred characters long, a continuous string of emotes and emojis that I normally never use. Of course, I didn't forget to phrase the end as a question.
As we exchanged e-mails for a while, a certain euphoria overtook me. Anything that gives you so much bliss could legitimately be designated a drug.
And that's how I made a date to hang out with Totsuka. Who cares about issues or conundrums or whatever!
It was almost time for our rendezvous. When you mess with August, you're playing with fire, and the brilliant sun shone down on me as a lukewarm breeze blew by as strong as life itself. The heat and humidity indexes were about to reach unpleasant levels, as they were apt to during this season. Still, despite the weather, I caught sight of a certain someone who always reminded me of puppies and kittens and the power of love. When my eyes locked on him, he noticed me in the crowd and ran up to me. Cool and swift as the winter wind, emotions whirled in my heart…
Now that I've found Totsuka, that fabulous shimmer, the glow in my heart, I'm ultra-happy! Totsuka is coming!
"Sorry I'm late, Hachiman!" Totsuka, boyishly dressed, leaned over with his hands on his knees after his run and let out a deep exhale.
"Don't worry about it," I said. "I just came a little early." Only three hours or so. Don't worry about it at all. "Besides, you're not really late. You didn't have to run."
"Huh? Yeah. But I found you, so." Totsuka laughed, as if to mask his shyness.
My eyes couldn't handle so much pure light at once, and I'm not talking about the sun. Flustered, I looked away. "All right. So what's the plan?"
In our e-mails, all we had agreed on was that we would meet up. We had concluded it would be more fun to decide what to do once we were together, so inevitably, I had spent the whole night evaluating places to go and hadn't gotten enough sleep. What exactly do teenagers mean when they talk about hanging out? I don't know the specifics of that behavior. That was why I didn't know what to suggest. But we'd chosen to meet up at Kaihin-Makuhari Station, and it had most things: arcades, karaoke, a movie theater, a park, and a Mini 4WD race track. And shopping was everywhere. We wouldn't lack for any entertainment.
"Hmm…" Totsuka couldn't come up with a reply straight away. He thought for a moment. "I considered a lot of things, but…I don't really know what you like, Hachiman," he said, hmming some more. He seemed to be sincerely trying to figure out what I like. It's so rare for me to receive such careful consideration from anyone, I found myself staring at him.
I mean, my acquaintances consist of a very self-centered lot. Be it
Yuigahama, Zaimokuza, or Komachi—let's not even talk about Yukinoshita—they're all more or less upfront about their own desires. And Miss Hiratsuka…does she think of anything else? You could make a series based on that woman: The Teacher's Frustrated Desires.
But anyway, I have no interests. No one will find any interest in me, I assure you. He can deliberate all day, but he's not gonna get easy answers. Even I barely understand a thing about myself. I've seriously just been lying around for most of summer vacation. I sleep until noon. When I do get up, I only go to the bookstore or the library.
And so, in haste, I proposed a compromise that would also function as an apology to Totsuka. "Let's just wander around for now."
"Yeah, okay," he said. "It'd be faster for the two of us to decide together."
I felt slightly uncomfortable when I heard the words decide together. In my life thus far, I had been forced to reach most of my decisions alone, so this was new territory. Totsuka was just so nice, it made me want to decide on our children's names together.
Together, we strolled out of the station into the early afternoon. Still, it was really hot, so I figured it would be a good idea to narrow down which of the several nearby malls we would visit and go from there.
We had to decide where to start.
Shopping… There's nothing in particular I want to buy, so scratch that. Arcades… Well, that could work. I doubt Totsuka is into capsule machines, but maybe he'd be into medal games or crane games, so…over this way, I guess…?
I decided to head toward Cineplex Makuhari, a mall that had an arcade I was familiar with. Cineplex may sound like Aniplex, but it belongs to the Kadokawa Group.
Inside was a movie theater with ten screens, an arcade, and a variety of restaurants. When we entered, we were met with a jumble of gaudy decorative lights and pop audio. They didn't have any plain old video games. The theme of the arcade was rhythm and dance games, arcade shooters, medal games, and crane machines, along with photo booths and darts and stuff, too. I guess you'd call it an arcade for active young people. This area was home to a number of high schools and universities, so you could be sure that was their main target market. There were also adjoining restaurants and a movie theater, which suggested they were also counting on demand from the family bracket. We did one full circle around the premises, and then Totsuka suddenly froze.
"What is it?" I asked, eyes following his gaze. He was examining a poster of a movie that was currently playing.
"So it's already out…" He hmmed and kept staring with great interest.
"You wanna watch a movie, then?"
"Oh! We can do something you like!" Totsuka waved his hands, flustered.
"No, let's see a movie. Now that I think about it, this is the first time I've ever seen one with someone other than family. It'll be nice to do it for once." The last time I saw a movie together with another person was when I was really little, at the old Marinpia movie
theater that isn't there anymore. We were basically imprisoned while my mom was shopping, though.
Ever since middle school, I've been going alone. There's a movie theater close to my house, so it's the perfect place to just wander into when I'm out and about.
Totsuka contemplated for a bit and then hesitantly locked eyes with me. "Can we?"
When he asked like that, I could only give him one answer. "Yeah." I've decided! Totsuka will be my first!