Yahari Ore no Seishun Love Come wa Machigatte Iru - Volume 1 - Chapter 4

4

Even so, the class is doing well.

The bell rang, and fourth period ended. All at once, an air of relief began flowing through the class. Some students dashed off to the school store, some rearranged their desks and spread out their lunch boxes, and others went off to other classrooms. Lunch on this particular day in Class 2-F was bustling and noisy, as usual.

On days like today, when it rained, I had nowhere to go. I had the perfect spot where I usually went to eat my lunch, but obviously, I wasn’t interested in getting soaked while I ate. Left with no alternative, I munched on my convenience store pastry alone in the class.

Usually, on rainy days like this, I would spend my lunch reading a novel or some manga, but I’d left the book I was reading in the clubroom the day before. Maybe I should have gone to get it during our ten-minute break period. It was a little too late for that now, though. “Too little, too late,” as the Americans would say. Wait—that’s basically what I just said!

I’m playing both sides of a comedy duo all on my own here. That’s how bored I am. You know, I’ve always thought that when you spend long periods of time by yourself, you just naturally end up doing things without requiring other people. 

When I’m at home, I talk to myself a lot. I sing loudly by myself. So often, when my sister comes home, I’ll be like “MORE! MOR–welcome home.” Obviously, I don’t sing at school.

So instead, I think a lot.

I’d even say that to be a loner is to be a master of contemplating. As man is a thinking reed, he ponders things without even realizing. And precisely because the loner does not expend mental resources thinking about other people, his thoughts become that much deeper. This means that loners come to have different thought patterns than more social types, and sometimes that leads them to unique ideas that ordinary people wouldn’t come up with.

It’s difficult to convey a large amount of information through the limited method of expression that is conversation. It’s just like how a computer works. It takes time to upload a huge amount of data to a server or to send it via e-mail. That’s why loners tend to be somewhat lacking in conversation skills. That’s all it is. I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing. Computers aren’t just for sending e-mails. There’s also the Internet and Photoshop. What I’m saying is, don’t judge people based on that sole trait.

I used a computer as a metaphor there, but I don’t actually know a lot about them. The ones who did were those guys crowded together in the front row of the classroom. And by “those guys,” I was referring to the ones who’d brought their PSPs for a hunt on their ad-hoc Wi-Fi. I think their names were, like, Oda and Tahara or something.

“Hey! Use the hammer!”

“The gun lance was more than enough to waste him. ^ ^”

They seemed to be having very much fun indeed. I play that game, too, and honestly, I’d have liked to join them. It wasn’t too long ago that manga, anime, and games were the province of loners. Lately, however, they’ve been turning into a sort of communication tool, and communication skills would be required in order to join people like them. Sadly, because I’m not quite as ugly as I could be, if I were to try to join them, they’d start saying stuff behind my back like He’s not for real and What a faux-taku. What do you guys expect me to do about it, seriously?

When we were in middle school, I saw those guys talking about anime, so I tried to join in, but when I did, they both fell conspicuously silent. It was painful. Ever since then, I’d given up on trying to ingratiate myself with them.

I was never the kind of kid who’d burst out with Let me play! so I’m not about to start now. When we played kickball on recreational days, there was this rule that two of the leader types among the boys would play rock-paper-scissors to decide who got first pick for his team. I was always left for last. As a ten-year-old, I’d think to myself, I wonder when I’m gonna get picked? So pathetic you could cry, am I right?

As a result, though I’m reasonably athletic, I became bad at sports. I like baseball and stuff, but I have no one to play with. So when I was little, I played baseball all by myself, doing nothing but bouncing balls against walls and doing solo fielding practice, making liberal use of ghost runners and ghost defense men.

But there was another race in class quite adept at that sort of communication. The crowd sitting in the back were of that variety. There were two guys from soccer club, two guys from the basketball club, and three girls. One glance, and you could tell by their fashion-conscious appearances that they were the top caste in this classroom. By the way, Yuigahama was one of them.

Two among this herd were particularly dazzling. First, Hayato Hayama. That was the name of the clique’s alpha. He was the ace of the soccer team and would soon be a candidate for captain. He was not someone who’d make you feel good about yourself after staring at him for a long time.

Basically, he was good-looking and stylish in a casual way. Fuck that guy.

“Man, I don’t think I can make it today. I’ve got club and stuff.”

“C’mon, you can skip one day, right? There’s, like, a two-scoop sale today at Thirteen and One Flavors. I want a chocolate and cocoa double scoop.”

“Both of those are chocolate. (LOL)”

“Huh? They’re totally different! And I’m, like, so hungry.” That loud voice was Hayama’s other half, Yumiko Miura.

Her blonde hair was arranged in ringlet curls, and her uniform top was deliberately pulled down to show so much shoulder that I was like, What are you, a samurai-era prostitute? Her skirt was so short you had to wonder what was the point of wearing it at all. Miura had a pretty and shapely face, but she dressed so slutty and acted so stupid, I wasn’t fond of her. Actually, I was genuinely scared of her. I felt like anything could come out of her mouth.

But Hayama apparently didn’t see Miura as someone fearsome. Rather, from what I could tell, he regarded her as a friend who was as outgoing and affable as he was. This was exactly why I didn’t understand the guys on the upper rungs of the food chain. No matter how you looked at it, she only acted that way because she was hanging out with him. In my presence, she would have killed me with a single snort. Well, there was no reason for her to associate with me, so she’d never talk to me, anyway, and I was fine with that.

Hayama and Miura continued to shoot the breeze.

“Sorry, not today,” Hayama said, taking control of the conversation again. Miura stared at him, nonplussed.

Then the blond beside her ruffled up his hair and piped up with, “We’re serious about going to Nationals this year.”

What? Nationals? I mean, the city of Kunitachi uses the same characters as the word nationals, so maybe he was referring to Kunitachi, as in a location in the Tokyo Metropolitan Area that you could reach via the Chuo line. Because there was no way he could seriously think his team was going to Nationals.

“Bwa-ha…” An involuntary chuckle welled up in my throat. Oh man, he had this look on his face like I am so cool for saying that. It was so bad. The worst. Inexcusable.

“Plus, Yumiko…if you eat too much, you’ll regret it.”

“I don’t get fat, no matter how much I eat. Aw, there’s just nothing to do today but eat! Right, Yui?”

“Yeah, it’s true, it’s true. You’ve got a great figure, Yumiko. But I’ve got some plans today, so…”

“I know, right? There’s just nothing to do but stuff our faces!” Miura said, and everyone laughed as if they’d been ordered to. It was just like the kind of hollow laughter you hear on a variety show laugh track. It was awfully loud, as if they’d just been cued to [laugh here] by the teleprompter.

I wasn’t really trying to eavesdrop on their conversation. They were just so loud, I couldn’t help but overhear. Actually, both nerds and normies tend to get loud when they’re gathered in a group. There was no one near where I was seated, enthroned in the center of the room, but everything around me was a total commotion. It was as though I were in the eye of a hurricane.

From the middle of his group, Hayama flashed that smile that everyone loved. “Don’t eat too much and make yourself sick.”

“I told you, I’m fine no matter how much I eat. And I don’t get fat. Right, Yui?”

“Yeah, like, Yumiko has, like, the figure of a goddess, for real. Her legs are so pretty. So, I, um…”

“What? I dunno… There’s that girl, Yukinoshita or whatever her name is. Don’t you think she’s got it going on?”

“Oh, that’s true. Yukino’s totally got it.”

Silence.

“Oh, well, but you’ve got better style, Yumiko,” Yuigahama quickly continued when Miura went quiet, her eyebrow twitching. They were like…a queen and her maid or something.

But apparently, Yuigahama’s backpedalling was insufficient to placate the queen’s bruised feelings, and Miura’s eyes narrowed in displeasure.

“Well, I guess it’s no big deal. If you don’t mind going after club’s over, I’ll come with you,” Hayama offered casually as if sensing the tense atmosphere.

That appeared to placate the queen, who chirped, “Okay! Then text me, okay?” with a smile, and the conversation recommenced.

Yuigahama, who’d been looking like she was trying to hide, breathed a sigh of relief.

Hey, hey, that looked really rough. What is this, a feudal society? If you have to tiptoe around like that in order to become a normie, I’m fine being a loner forever.

When Yuigahama raised her head, our eyes met. When she saw my face, she took a deep breath, as if having made up her mind about something.

“Um, I…I’ve got somewhere to go during lunch, so…”

“Oh, do you? Then buy one of those things on your way back…a lemon tea. I forgot to bring a drink today, and I’m eating a pastry, so it’s hard to eat without some tea, y’know?”

“H-huh? But, like…I’m coming back when fifth starts…like…I’ll be gone all lunch, so I kinda sorta dunno if I can…” Yuigahama hesitated, and in an instant, Miura’s face stiffened. Her expression mirrored the betrayal one might expect to see on a dog owner who’d just been bitten by her pet. Yuigahama, who’d probably never disputed anything Miura had ever said before, was suddenly denying a request.

“What? Uh…wait a minute. Huh? Like, didn’t you say the same thing a while ago and bail on us after school? You’re not being very social lately.”

“Well, that was, like, sort of circumstances beyond my control, and I’m sorry, but I’ve got some personal business to attend to…” Yuigahama’s reply rambled along. What was she, some white-collar office flunky?

But Yuigahama’s explanations actually had the opposite effect intended, and Miura began tapping her nails on the desk in irritation. The queen’s sudden explosion silenced the entire class. The Oda and Tahara (or whoever) I mentioned earlier deliberately switched off the sound on their PSPs. Hayama and hangers-on all dropped their gazes awkwardly to the floor. The sole sound audible in class was the restless, repetitious tapping of Miura’s long nails atop the desk.

“I don’t get what that’s supposed to mean. If you’ve got something to say, then out with it. We’re friends, aren’t we? And you’re, like…hiding stuff like that? How is that good?”

Yuigahama drooped, downcast.

The things Miura was saying were superficially nice, but in reality, she was just using their friendship to impose her will on Yuigahama. They were friends, Yuigahama was one of them, giving Miura free rein to say anything and do anything. That was what Miura really meant. And behind her words lurked a hidden threat of If you can’t spit it out, you’re not one of us, and therefore our enemy. This was an inquisition, and Yuigahama was being forced to step on a cross to test her faith.

“Sorry…,” Yuigahama repented timidly, looking down.

“Don’t just tell me ‘sorry.’ You have something you want to say, don’t you?”

Nobody would be capable of spitting out what they had to say after hearing that. This wasn’t a conversation, and that wasn’t a question. Miura was just attacking her and forcing her into an apology.

How moronic. Go ahead and destroy each other.

I turned my head away from the girls and took a bite of my pastry while fiddling with my phone. I munched a bit and then swallowed. But there was still something…something that wasn’t bread stuck in my throat.

What was it?

Meals should have been more joyous and fun than this. If you subscribed to the ideology of the Lonely Gourmet, anyway. I didn’t have the slightest desire to save her, though. It just gave me a mild stomachache to see a girl I knew crying in front of me. The sight would have ruined my meal. I really just wanted to have a nice meal. Plus, it was my job to get bullied around here, and I wouldn’t let anyone else steal that role from me so easily.

Oh, and also…because I really didn’t like that broad.

I pushed back from my desk with a rattle and sharply stood. “Hey, that’s—”

“Shuddup.”

—enough. The moment I attempted to finish saying that, Miura glared at me with snakelike eyes that practically hissed. “—a good reminder that I was thinking of buying myself a drink! B-but I guess I’ll pass.”

That was terrifying! Was she an anaconda or what? I’d nearly stammered an apology on reflex alone!

I sat down, dispirited, and Miura ignored me completely, instead looking down on the shrunken Yuigahama. “Listen, I’m saying this for your sake, but that sort of vague crap really pisses me off.”

She insisted she was doing this for Yuigahama, but everything else she’d said had been about her own feelings and her own interests. She hadn’t even finished her sentence and was already contradicting herself. But to Miura, that sort of thing wasn’t a contradiction. She was the queen of this clique, and in a feudal society, the ruler’s authority was absolute.

“Sorry…”

“That again?” Miura snorted vigorously in anger and disgust. That was all it took to make Yuigahama wither even more.

Just cut it out. This is annoying. You’re making everyone in the classroom tiptoe around the scene you’re making. I can’t handle this kind of nasty atmosphere. Don’t be dragging us all into your coming-of-age theater piece.

I screwed up what meager courage I had one more time. Nobody could possibly hate me any more than they already did, anyway. It’s not a bad idea to play a game when you’ve got nothing to lose.

I stood to face them, and at the same time, Yuigahama turned to me with tear-laden eyes.

“Hey, what’re you looking at, Yui? You’ve been doing nothing but apologizing,” charged Miura in a chilly tone, as if carefully targeting that moment.

“She’s not the one you should be apologizing to, Yuigahama,” interrupted a voice apt to ring much colder than Miura’s. It was a voice like the arctic wind, a voice that could make people cower, but it was as beautiful as the northern lights. Everyone’s eyes were drawn to the door of the classroom, and even though it was in the corner of the room, it was as if it were the center of the world.

That voice could only belong to one person: Yukino Yukinoshita.

I was frozen in a half-upright position as if paralyzed. Miura’s earlier threats were child’s play compared to this. I mean, taking on Yukinoshita was so scary, you just couldn’t keep your cool, you know? She went past scary to a point where you start thinking she’s angelic.

Yukinoshita entranced everyone in the class. At some point, the sound of Miura’s clicking on the desk had stopped, and all noise had dissipated. The only thing cutting through the silence now was the sound of Yukinoshita’s voice.

“Yuigahama. You invited me to lunch and then failed to show up at our meeting place, making me seriously doubt you as a person. If you were going to be late, you should have at least contacted me. Am I wrong?”

Hearing those words, Yuigahama smiled in relief and faced Yukinoshita. “S-sorry. Oh, but I don’t know your number, Yukinon…”

“Oh? Is that right? Then I suppose that one part was not your fault. I won’t mention it again.” Yukinoshita completely ignored the vibe in the room and conducted the conversation as she saw fit. It was refreshingly self-centered.

“H-hey! We’re not done talking here!” Miura, finally defrosting, snapped at Yukinoshita and Yuigahama. The queen of flames stoked the fire even hotter and let her rage burn with a roaring fierceness.

“About what? I don’t have the time to talk to you, though. I still haven’t had my lunch.”

“Wh-what? You can’t come in here out of the blue and treat me like that! I’m talking to Yui right now.”

“Talking? Don’t you mean yelling? Was that supposed to be conversation? It looked to me like you were just getting hysterical and one-sidely forcing your opinion on others.”

“What?!”

“I apologize for failing to notice that you were talking. I’m unfamiliar with the particulars of your ecosystem, so I mistook it for the howling threats of an ape.”

The seething queen of flames froze before the queen of ice. “Ngh…!” Miura glared at Yukinoshita in unveiled rage, but Yukinoshita coldly shook it off. “You can play the king of the castle and bluster all you like, but please keep it to your own territory. Your pretense is as flaky as your makeup.”

“Huh? What’re you talking about? You’re not making sense!” Clearly unable to admit defeat, Miura flopped back into her seat with a clatter. Her curls bounced up and down as she began to angrily fiddle with her phone. No one would talk to her when she was like that. Even Hayama, who got along with her, yawned to avoid the situation.

Right beside Miura, Yuigahama stood stock-still. Her fingers fretted the hem of her skirt as if she wanted to say something. Picking up on Yuigahama’s intent, Yukinoshita moved to step out of the classroom.

“I’m going on ahead.”

“Me too, I-I’ll…”

“…You can do what you want.”

“Yeah.” Yuigahama smiled broadly. But she was the only one smiling.

Hey, come on… What’s with this atmosphere in here? There was an unusual degree of anxiety in the classroom; it was even more awkward than usual. Before long, most of the students started formulating excuses like they were thirsty or had to go to the bathroom or whatever and left. The only people who remained in the end were Hayama and Miura’s clique and some curious rubberneckers. I had no choice but to jump on the big wave rushing out of the room. Or rather, I should say that had it gotten any tenser, I’d have found myself unable to breathe. I’d die. Gingerly and making as little sound as possible, I passed by Yuigahama. When I did, I heard her whisper, “Thanks for standing up earlier.”

When I left the classroom, I found Yukinoshita outside. She was leaning against the wall immediately beside the door, arms crossed and eyes closed. Perhaps due to her chilly aura, no one was around her. It was very quiet. And because of the silence, I could hear the conversation inside the class.

“Um…sorry. I’m just, like…anxious if I’m not fitting in with others…like, I just sort of pick up on what other people want without thinking…and maybe that can be irritating.”

Miura said nothing.

“Well it’s like…I dunno, I’ve just always been like that, you know? Like, even when we were playing Ojamajo Doremi, I actually wanted to be Doremi or Onpu-chan, but other girls wanted to be them, so I’d go with Hazuki… It’s like…maybe it’s because I grew up in an apartment complex, but there were always people around me, and that seemed like the obvious thing to do…”

“I have no idea what you’re trying to say.”

“Y-yeah, of course not. Well, I don’t really get it myself, but…but you know, seeing Hikki and Yukinon, I noticed…even though there was no one around them, they looked like they were having fun, and they were always saying what they really thought, and even though neither of them are trying to fit together, they somehow do…” Her voice sounded like a stifled sob leaking out, stuttering along haltingly.

With each word, Yukinoshita’s shoulders twitched, her eyes opening very slightly to glance into the classroom. You idiot. You can’t see it from here. If you’re that worried, go in there. You’re way too proud.

“Seeing them, it’s like all my desperate attempts to fit in were all wrong… I mean, like, Hikki’s seriously a hikki. During lunch hour, he reads alone and laughs to himself… He’s creepy, but he looks like he’s having fun.”

Hearing the word creepy, Yukinoshita chuckled. “I thought your strange habits were limited to the clubroom, but you’re like that in your classroom, too, huh? That really is disgusting, so you should stop.”

“If you think I’m being weird, then say so.”

“It’s so obvious. I just don’t want to talk to you when you’re so scary.”

I’ll take care for real from now on. I won’t read any light novels with evil gods in them at school anymore.

“So that’s why I thought maybe I could stop forcing myself and do what I wanted…or something like that. But it’s not like I don’t want to hang out with you or anything. So can we still…maybe…be…friends?”

“Hmph. Uh-huh. Sure, whatever.” Miura snapped her cell phone shut.

“Sorry…thanks.”

After that, there was no further conversation in the classroom, and I could hear the pitter-patter of Yuigahama’s indoor shoes. Yukinoshita pushed herself off the wall she’d been leaning against, as if taking it as a sign. “Huh. So she can actually be honest.” To my astonishment, she flashed a brief something that just barely counted as a smile.

It wasn’t ironic or disparaging or sad; it was just a genuine smile.

But it disappeared in an instant, and she reassumed her usual cold, crystalline expression. While I was busy watching her smile, she strode briskly down the hallway and disappeared without paying me any regard at all. She was probably going wherever she was supposed to meet Yuigahama for lunch.

And right when I was thinking, Now, what should I do? and about to leave, the door of the classroom slid open with a rattle.

“Huh? Wh-why are you here, Hikki?”

I raised my right arm stiffly and gave her a jerky wave, like ’Sup, in an attempt to evade the question. When I looked at her face, it was red.

“You heard?”

“Heard what?”

“You were listening! You were eavesdropping! You’re such a creep! A stalker! A pervert! Um, um, um…and a creep! Unbelievable! You’re such a creep. You’re really such a creep.”

“Hold back a little there.” Even I get a little sad if you unload all that venom right in my face. And don’t say all that with such a sincere look. That’s actually pretty hurtful.

“What? I’m not gonna start holding back now. Whose fault do you think this is, you idiot?” Yuigahama stuck out her pink tongue at me and, with that cute provocation, ran away. What are you, an elementary schooler? And don’t run in the hallway.

“Whose fault is that? Yukinoshita’s, duh.” I muttered to myself. There was no one else there, so of course it was to myself.

When I looked at the clock, there was only a little time left until lunch ended. That terribly parching lunch hour was over. I resolved to go buy a Sportop to soothe both my throat and my heart.

On my way to the school store, I suddenly changed my mind.

Nerds have their own nerd communities; they’re not loners. In order to become a normie, you had to navigate your way through hierarchical relationships and power balances, and that was really tough. In the end, I was the only loner. Ms. Hiratsuka didn’t have to go so far as to put me in an isolation ward. I was already a pariah in the class. There was no point in her quarantining me in the Service Club.

What a sad conclusion. Reality was just too harsh.

Sportop was the only thing that was sweet to me.