Yahari Ore no Seishun Love Come wa Machigatte Iru - Volume 2 - Chapter 4

4

Saki Kawasaki has some stuff going on, so she’s sulking.

Midterm exams were looming. While I usually studied at a family restaurant or at the library, high school students out and about after eleven PM were apt to get picked up by the police and taken home, and at ten PM family restaurants ask you to leave. So when I do nighttime studying, it ends up being entirely at home. By the way, when I say “nighttime studying,” I don’t mean night in the sense of nighttime wrestling.

The needle on the clock was pointing to just before twelve. I stretched with a groan. I felt like I could keep at it for about another hour or two. “I guess I’ll have a coffee.”

I went down the stairs with muted thumps and headed to the living room. Coffee is always the best thing for waking up. If you’re going to abuse your brain with activities like studying, it’s necessary to supply said brain with sugar. In other words, this is where the deathly sweet MAX Coffee comes in. MAX Coffee is sweet, it has caffeine, and it’s full of cream, so I think an anthropomorphization of it would be pretty sexy. For starters, she’d definitely have a huge rack. And she’d say stuff like, I won’t let you sleep tonight   ! I wish someone on Pixiv would draw a MAX Coffee-tan…

As these trivial thoughts and feelings regarding MAX Coffee crossed my mind, I walked into the living room to see my sister, Komachi, fast asleep on the couch. She should have had midterms coming up, too, but as usual, she was unflappable.

I rummaged around for my stash of MAX Coffee before I remembered that I’d already opened a new package recently, and so there was nothing to do but boil water. I filled the T-Fal electric kettle with water and flipped up the switch on the rear. Not knowing what else to do while the water was boiling, I sat on one end of the couch my sister was passed out on and waited.

My sister left her stomach boldly exposed as she slept. Her white skin rose and fell rhythmically as she breathed softly in sleep, and with every breath her cute belly button moved. She was wearing my T-shirt, which she’d presumably stolen from me for herself, and when she stirred with a groan, it slowly rode up to let her bra peek out. I didn’t notice before because she was curled up, but why wasn’t she wearing any pants? She was gonna catch cold. There was a bath towel lying nearby, so I just draped it over her for the time being. Komachi mumbled something mumbly in response.

While I was occupied with my sister, the water began to burble and boil, and the electric kettle signaled it was done with a click. I tossed the instant coffee powder into a mug and poured in the hot water, and then the fine smell of coffee wafted up from it. This cup was on the strong side, so I added lots of milk and sugar and stirred it about four times with a teaspoon. My sweet coffee was done, and just how I like it. The rich aroma of the milk and the fragrant scent of coffee intermingling was quite pleasant.

Apparently, Komachi had gotten a whiff, too, as she leaped awake. First she jerked her head around to look at me, still for two seconds. Next she pulled open the curtains, still for three seconds. Then her eyes went wide, and she looked at the clock, still for five seconds. All told, it seemed to take her ten seconds to grasp the situation. She took a deep breath and then yelled in a stupidly loud voice, “Oh no! I overslept! I only meant to sleep an hour… I slept like a log for five hours!”

“Yeah, that happens sometimes… Wait, no, that’s way too long! Did you go straight to sleep after you came home?!”

“Don’t be rude! I did have a proper shower before I went to sleep!”

“I have no idea why you’re getting mad at me right now.”

“The real question here is why didn’t you wake me up?!”

I don’t know why Komachi was whining and howling at me about this. Speaking of sleeping like a log, that reminded me of dogs. The female kind. “Not like I care, but put on some pants! And you can’t just take my clothes.”

“Hmm? Oh, this. It’s perfect as pj’s. Don’t you think it looks kinda like a nightgown?” she said, tugging the collar of the T-shirt out wide.

It really does stretch out. I can see your bra. Don’t spin around like that; I can see your panties. “Well, I don’t wear it anymore, so I’ll give it to you.”

“Oh-ho, thanks! Then I’ll give you some underwear or something in exchange!”

“Yeah, thanks.” I swore firmly in my heart that if she really did give some to me, I’d use them as a rag or something, and I sipped my coffee.

Tugging down the hem of the nightgown that was formerly my T-shirt, she came into the kitchen and went to warm some milk in the microwave. “Anyway, what’re you doing up so late, Bro?”

“Studying for exams. I just came down here for a break,” I replied, and Komachi went ohhh in surprise.

“If this is a break, that means you’re gonna study some more… Bro, you know, I think that once you start working, you’re gonna be a bijinasu-raiku guy.”

“Hey, businesslike doesn’t mean ‘someone who likes business.’ Your English is a disaster.”

“Naw, Bro. I’m great at English. I’m a genius. Ai amu peenasu.”

I would definitely not call that level of English genius. Does she not even know the word genius in English?

The microwave went ding. Komachi took her mug in both hands, blowing away at it to cool it down as she walked up to me. “Maybe I’ll study, too…”

“Yeah, you should. I’m gonna go back to studying. You study hard, too.” I downed my coffee in one go and stood up. That’s when I felt a tug at the back of my T-shirt, and I let out a croak like a bullfrog. When I turned around, Komachi was grinning ear to ear.

“You said ‘you, too,’ right? Normally, that means Let’s do it together, you know. Bro, do you have a language disability?”

“You’re the one with a language disability.” I’d gotten a fair amount of studying done for the night, though, so it wouldn’t kill me to help my stupid sister study.

And that’s how I ended up night-studying with my sister.

I brought a set of my study materials from my room and spread them out on the table in the living room. I’d decided to focus on Japanese history that day, so I had the Yamagawa workbook, the answer key, and a notebook. Komachi, perhaps unhappy about how bad she was at English, had Middle School English Target 1800 out.

We both focused on our studies in silence. I solved the questions and then checked the answers, and when I got one wrong, I’d copy both the question and answer into my workbook. I repeated that over and over again. After I had done about one run-through of everything that would be on the test, I noticed that Komachi was staring at me. She seemed to be zoned out. “What?”

“Hmm? Oh, I was just thinking, you’re such a serious boy.”

“Wow, that doesn’t sound condescending at all. Are you looking for a fight, you little brat? I’ll pull out that stupid-looking cowlick of yours.” I tried threatening her a bit, but Komachi just laughed.

“Sure, Bro, I know you’d never hit me or anything.”

“What? That’s because, like…’cause if I hit you, Dad would kick my ass. That’s all. Don’t get the wrong idea.”

“Tee-hee! Aw, you’re so shy!  ”

“Ugh… Shut up….” For now I’d just settle for flicking her in the forehead in retaliation for how much she got on my nerves  . I flicked her like this was an eraser-flick match and her forehead was my opponent’s eraser, steeling myself like a suicide bomber ready to obliterate his target. In other words, it was a real and genuine 100 percent all-out attack.

“Oww!” Komachi’s forehead had let out a loud plink, and she pressed her hands against it as she moaned. Rubbing it, she glared at me with tear-filled eyes. “Nghh… I was being nice and talking about what a serious studier you are, and you flicked me!”

“Because you were being stupid. Just study, come on!”

“See, you’re so serious about it! Man, there’s so many different kinds of older brothers and sisters out there, huh? A friend of mine from my cram school, you know, has a sister who’s going bad. Apparently, she doesn’t come home at all in the evenings.”

“Uh-huh.”

It looked like Komachi had zero intention to study. At some point she’d closed Target 1800. She was trying to turn this into conversation time. Mostly ignoring her chatter, I continued studying Japanese history. Year 645, picks your fries, Taika Reforms.

“But like, but like, she goes to Soubu High and she used to be the serious type. I wonder what happened.”

“Hmm, yeah.” What Komachi was saying was going in one ear and out the other. Year 654, licks live boar, Fujiwara-kyo becomes capital. Hey, not live boar, it’s fine boar.

But man, I was sleepy. Man is in possession of a will that is stronger than any drug. So what I’m saying is, no matter how much caffeine I have, I don’t think the caffeine can triumph over my will to sleep.

“Well, it’s not my family, so I can’t talk, but since I got asked my advice about it, you know. Oh, so his name is Taishi Kawasaki, and he just started going to my cram school in April.”

“Komachi.” I lay my mechanical pencil down with a clack. My drowsiness instantly dissipated. “Just what is your relationship to this Taishi or whatever his name is? How friendly is this friend?”

“You’re kinda giving me a scary look, Bro.” Apparently, I’d gotten a very grave look in my eyes. Komachi was shrinking back a little.

But this was about my stupid sister. If I didn’t watch out for her, anything could happen. Worrying was my prerogative as a family member. I didn’t want her to get mixed up with some weirdo. Your big bro won’t let that happen, okay? “Well, you know. If you have any problems, just let me know. I told you before that I’m in this Service Club thing that’s apparently supposed to do stuff, so there might be some way I can help you out.”

“You really are a serious guy, Bro.”

It was morning. The sparrows were cheeping. An archetypal fade to black and morning after. When I opened my eyes, I saw not my usual view but an unfamiliar ceiling. That is to say, the living room ceiling. Apparently, I had fallen asleep while studying. I remembered only as far as asking Komachi about her relationship with her “friend.”

“Hey, Komachi. It’s morning,” I called out to her and then realized she wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Looking around the area in search of her: approximately two seconds. Next I glanced out the window. The sun was pretty high up. Checking that: three seconds. Breaking into a cold sweat, I looked at the clock. Nine thirty. I read it backward, and I read it forward, and it was still nine thirty. For a full five seconds, the clock and I stared at each other. After ten seconds, I was faced with the shocking truth.

“I’m superlate…” My head slumped, and then I saw my morning toast, ham, and eggs on the table along with a note.

Dear Bro,

I don’t wanna be late, so I’m going now, okay? Don’t study too hard!

S.P. Don’t skip your breakfast!

I guess the scribble there was supposed to be Komachi’s self-portrait. A girl-like sketch was making a face at me.

“You moron… Are you security police?” The correct acronym is P.S., which stands for PlayStation.

Anyway, rushing wasn’t going to do me any good, so I munched away at my breakfast and got ready to go to school. Apparently, my parents had already gone to work. Both my parents work, so mornings at the Hikigaya household are early. My mom makes breakfast, but Komachi usually takes care of dinner. The fact that no one had woken me up made me worry that no one loved me, though. I wanted to believe that they were just being nice, thinking like, I’ll just let him sleep for now. I bussed my dish and changed into my uniform. I checked that the door was locked and then left the house.

Leisurely riding my bike along the river, I looked up to see some cumulonimbi in a hurry to stretch out across the sky. The road to school that day was very quiet and calming. Usually, when I cycled down this street, it was a road race of students from Soubu High and other schools. Passing them on my bike like Gooo Magnum! felt great. And when there was someone else on a bike, I could compete with them, like Don’t lose now, Sonic! and I could get even more fired up about it.

But that day the only people on the road were middle-aged women trying to diet, middle-aged men walking their dogs, and fishermen. But it was nice to have a commute like this sometimes. Thinking about how I was actually cycling out here under the blue sky, it felt great. It was kind of like how Iitomo is over 50 percent funnier when you skip school to watch it. So then why was it that I suddenly got depressed when I got close to the school?

I didn’t try to sneak around, though, I walked in boldly through the front gate and into the school. Indeed, during this time the teachers were in class, so I wouldn’t be caught and yelled at for being late. There was no point in being fearful. I’ve learned that from being late a total of seventy-two times last year. I’d already been late eight times this year, so I might be able to improve on that record at this rate. I’d have liked to pull off 1,100 wins during my three years of high school.

Things were fine and dandy until I hit the school gates. The problem was getting into class. I parked my bike on the racks and walked briskly toward the entrance. When I stepped into the building, it felt like gravity had suddenly multiplied on me. Was this the planet Vegeta or what? I went up the stairs, walked through empty halls, and finally reached my classroom on the second floor. I took a deep breath before placing my hand on the door. The moment was electrified with tension. I slid the door open.

All at once, silent eyes turned toward me. A hush washed over the class. Whispered conversations, the teacher’s lecture—all form of sound evaporated. I didn’t mind being late. It was this atmosphere that I hated. If, by contrast, I’d been Hayama, I wonder how this would have gone down.

Hey, Hayato, why’re you late?

Hayama, you’re so slooow!

Ha-ha-ha! Hayama never learns.

I bet it’d be something like that. But when it’s me, no one says a thing. In fact, they all give me this look like Who’s that? My steps heavy, I trudged through the dead silence of the classroom. The moment I sat down at my desk, exhaustion hit me with a thud. “Agh…” I sighed.

Then someone just had to kick me while I was down. “Hikigaya. Come see me when class is over,” Miss Hiratsuka demanded, tapping her podium repeatedly with her fist.

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, head drooping. That was checkmate for me.

Miss Hiratsuka nodded and, with a flutter of her white coat, resumed writing on the blackboard. Wait, after class? There was only fifteen minutes left! Cruelly, that time passed in a blink. While I ignored the lesson to itemize my top hundred excuses for being late, the bell rang.

“That’s all for today, then. Hikigaya, come here.” The teacher beckoned me with a wave. Resisting the urge to make a break for it, I presented myself at the front of the class. Miss Hiratsuka glared as I stood penitently before her.

“Now then, before I punch you, I might as well hear your excuse for being late for my class.”

She’s already made up her mind to punch me! “Hey, you’ve got the wrong idea. Hold on a second here. You know how they say ‘fashionably late,’ right? I’ve got serious ambitions to go into the fashion industry, and I’m practicing for when I become an elite fashion executive.”

“I thought you wanted to be a househusband.”

“Ngh! Oh, well, you know… Anyway, it’s misguided to think that being late is wrong! Listen. Police arrive at the scene of a crime after the fact. The hero showing up late is the status quo. Basically, police and heroes are always the last ones to the party! But does anyone blame them for being late? Of course not! Paradoxically, lateness is justice!”

As Miss Hiratsuka listened to my soulful screams, for some reason, this faraway look crept into her eyes. “Hikigaya, let me tell you something. Justice without power is no different from evil.”

“P-power without justice is way worse! Hey, hold on! Don’t punch me!”

Swift death to evil. Miss Hiratsuka’s fist connected with my liver precisely. The palpable impact reverberated through my body. I fell over coughing. While I writhed in agony, Miss Hiratsuka sighed, exasperated. “Geez… There’re too many problem children in this class.” But there was no loathing in those words. Actually, she seemed rather pleased. “And speak of the devil.” Abandoning me where I lay floundering, the teacher headed toward the door at the rear of the classroom, heels clicking. Still rolling on the floor, I turned that way to see a female student with a bag stroll in as if she’d only just arrived at school. “Saki Kawasaki. Are you fashionably late, too?” Miss Hiratsuka acknowledged this new arrival with a smile, but the girl she called Kawasaki only paused for a moment to give the older woman a silent nod. She passed by where I was collapsed on the floor and headed straight for her desk.

She had bluish-black hair hanging all the way down her back, loosely tied front shirttails, and long, supple legs that looked capable of a swift kick. What left the greatest impression, though, were those listless eyes of hers that seemed to gaze into the horizon. Also, a peek of black lace with artisan-level embroidery.

I felt like I’d seen this girl before… Oh, wait, she was in my class, so of course I’d seen her before. I didn’t want to be falsely suspected of peeking up girls’ skirts from my ground-level vantage, so I hopped to my feet.

But I felt like I was missing something. “Black lace?” Then all the questions that had arisen in my mind instantly melted away.

I flashed back to the image that had burned itself onto my retinas just the other day. The girl I’d caught sight of on the roof who’d made fun of me out of the blue. Oh, so she was in my class. Having figured it out, I stole a second glance at her to confirm that she was indeed the student known as Saki Kawasaki. That was when it happened.

Kawasaki, who’d been heading for her desk, stopped in midstep to glare at me over her shoulder. “What an idiot.” She didn’t kick me or punch me. Just that. She wasn’t blushing shyly or flushed in anger. She said it as if totally disinterested, like the whole situation was stupid.

If Yukino Yukinoshita was frozen, then Saki Kawasaki was cold. It was the difference between dry ice and the regular variety. Yukinoshita burned anyone who touched her. Kawasaki combed her hair back with a hand as if exasperated and headed for her desk again. Pulling out her chair and taking her seat, she proceeded to stare blankly out the window as if she was bored. It actually looked like a deliberate attempt to avoid the sight of the classroom.

No one tried to speak to her. She was emitting a Don’t talk to me aura. But the fact that she’d turned on the Don’t talk to me aura meant she was poorly informed. In our class, even if you emit a Please talk to me aura, no one will talk to you.

“Saki Kawasaki, huh…?”

“Hikigaya, don’t use that deep, passionate tone to mutter the name of a girl whose skirt you just peeked up.” Miss Hiratsuka put her hand on my shoulder. It was extremely cold. “Let’s have a little chat about this incident. Come to the faculty office after class.”

I endured Miss Hiratsuka’s lecture and chastisement for a little under an hour before being allowed to head home. On my way back, I stopped by the bookstore at the Marinpia shopping mall. After perusing the shelves, I bought one book. My thousand-yen bill disappeared, leaving some change jingling around in my wallet. After that, thinking I might study, I went to a café. But apparently, everyone else had had the same thought, and the place was packed with students. Right as I was considering bailing, I caught sight of a familiar face.

Totsuka, in his gym uniform, was staring down a cake in the display case. (On a side note, at our school, you’re allowed to show up in either the regular uniform or the gym outfit.) This sight, sweeter than whipped cream, commanded my attention, and like ants swarming sugar, I was drawn toward him. It’s like in that song, the water over here is sweet!  . No, wait, that was fireflies.

“Okay, it’s your turn to give me a problem, Yukinon.”

And then there were two more familiar faces. Yuigahama and Yukinoshita weren’t wasting any time in the line for the cash register; they were studying hard. “Then I’ll give you one from Japanese. Complete the following idiom: ‘If the wind blows…’”

“‘…the Keiou Line stops’?”

Correction. This was just the Trans-Chiba Ultra Quiz. Also, Yuigahama’s answer was wrong. The correct answer was “…lately it’s been avoiding a full stop and just running slow.”

Unsurprisingly, this mistake made Yukinoshita frown. “Incorrect. Next question. This one is from geography. ‘Name two local products of Chiba prefecture.’”

The second hand of the clock prodded ticktock, ticktock. Yuigahama gulped, her expression serious. “Miso peanuts and…boiled peanuts?”

“Come on. Is this prefecture nothing but peanuts?”

“Ack! Oh, it’s Hikki. I thought some weirdo had snuck up on me…”

Whoops. I’d been planning to come back another time, but jumping on Yuigahama’s error had trapped me in this stupidly long line. Damn it! Curse my love for Chiba!

Yuigahama’s dramatic reaction pulled Totsuka’s attention toward us, and a sunny smile blossomed across his face. “Hachiman! So you were invited to study with us, too!” Beaming, he sidled up next to me. But of course, there was no way anyone would have invited me along, and Yuigahama had this awkward look on her face that said, I knew it…he’s come to crash our party.

Hey, stop giving me that look. You’re reminding me of my classmate’s birthday party back in elementary school. Even though I brought a present, they’d had no chicken for me, and I almost cried.

“We didn’t invite you to study with us, though. Did you want something?”

“Yukinoshita, you don’t have to state facts just to hurt me.” Good grief, if I were a little more emotionally fragile, this could really go south. Specifically, I’d scream Yaaaagh! and hit you with a chair. I think I deserve a thank-you for being so exceptionally strong.

“Uh, well…I thought about asking you to come, but the teacher called you to her office, so…”

“Whatever. I don’t really care.” I was used to this stuff now.

“Did you come to study for the test, too, Hikigaya?” asked Yukinoshita.

“Yeah, I guess. You guys?”

“Of course. It’s less than two weeks until exams now.”

“Hey, before you study, you need to brush up on Chiba prefecture again. Those questions you just gave her were freebies, weren’t they?”

“I don’t think they were freebies. Geography question: ‘Name two local products of Chiba prefecture,’” Yukinoshita asked in the exact same tone as she’d used with Yuigahama, as if testing me.

“The correct answer is ‘Chiba is famous for festivals and dancing.’”

“I said ‘products,’ didn’t I?” And nobody knows the lyrics to ‘Chiba Ondo.’” Yukinoshita shrank back, appalled.

Come on, you clearly know the lyrics. You’re the appalling one. And by the way, ‘Chiba Ondo’ is the Bon Odori of Chiba. Around here, it’s about as big a deal as ‘Nanohana Taisou.’ People from Chiba can sing and dance both. Also, there’re no lyrics in ‘Nanohana Taisou,’ but for some reason, we can sing it.

Meanwhile, the line to the register was advancing, and I was next.

Yuigahama gave me a sly smile. “Hikki, treat me!  ”

“Huh? Sure, I guess… What do you want to drink? Liquid sweetener?”

“Do you think I’m a beetle?! If you don’t want to treat me, then just say it!”

So she figured it out. Why would I ever treat her in the first place?

Watching our exchange, Yukinoshita released a short sigh. “You’re an embarrassment, so stop it. I don’t appreciate that kind of behavior. People who sponge off others are trash.”

Yukinoshita and I were on the same page, for once. “Yeah. I hate people like that, too.”

“Huh?! Th-then I won’t ask again!”

“I think it’s fine as a joke between friends, though,” I said. “Why don’t you just stick to doing it with your clique?”

“Yes, that’s true,” Yukinoshita agreed. “It’s not my clique, so I wouldn’t mind.”

“I can’t believe you two don’t consider me part of your clique!”

I watched from the side as Yuigahama tearfully clung to Yukinoshita. Then it was my turn at the register. I ordered a coffee, which the cashier quickly poured for me.

“Three hundred ninety yen, please.”

I stuck my hand in my pocket, and that was when it hit me. A recent memory suddenly bubbled up in my mind. I’d bought a light novel at the bookstore, and then what happened…? I’d had exactly one thousand yen and paid for the book, and the change was…

I didn’t have enough money. But the coffee was already made, so I couldn’t refuse it. Smiling, I appealed to the pair behind me. “Sorry. I didn’t bring any money today. If you don’t mind, can you treat me?”

“You’re trash.” Not missing a beat, Yukinoshita certified me as garbage, and Yuigahama sighed, exasperation etched on her face.

“Agh, I guess I’ve got no choice.”

Y-Yuigahama! Yes! What a goddess! Yuigahama saves! But Yukinoshita takes full damage!

“I’ll order that coffee as my drink and pay for it, so why don’t you have some sweetener, Hikki?”

Who is this demon? This is less Ah! My Goddess and more Shin Megami Tensei.

“H-Hachiman, I’ll pay! So don’t worry about it, okay?” Totsuka smiled kindly at me. He was a goddamn angel. Just as I was about to embrace him, Yukinoshita’s chilly voice cut between us.

“Nothing good will come of spoiling him.”

“You’ve never spoiled me before! How would you know?”

In the end, Totsuka paid for me. I thanked him and looked for a seat. I figured I should do at least that much while the other three were waiting for their orders. There was a party of four leaving, so I quickly snatched their spot. I put my tray on the table, tossing my bag onto the seat. I flung it a little too hard, though, and it slid down the long padded bench.

A pretty girl in a school uniform one table over quietly pushed it back to me. As she performed this act of kindness without a single complaint, I bowed in deference to her refined and modest attitude.

“Oh! It’s you, Bro!” That beautiful girl was my sister, Komachi Hikigaya. Still in her middle school uniform, a happy smile on her face, she waved at me.

“What’re you doing here?”

“Oh, I was just listening to Taishi talk about his troubles,” she said, turning back to the seat across from her. A middle school boy sat there in a gakuran. He bobbed his head at me in greeting.

I reflexively went on guard. Why? Why was Komachi with a boy…?

“This is Taishi Kawasaki. I told you about him yesterday, right? The guy whose sister’s gone bad.”

Now that she mentioned it, I seemed to remember her telling me something like that. I hadn’t been listening to most of it, and all I could remember was 654, licks live boar. I wonder what the heck happened in 654…?

“So he was just asking me what he should do to get his sister back to normal. Oh, that’s it! You help him, too, Bro. You told me to tell you if I had any problems.”

Oh yeah. I seemed to remember running my mouth the day before and saying something like Leave it to me and go ahead on the spur of the moment. Of course, I had every intention of going out of my way for my sister, but I didn’t have the slightest inclination to do anything for her friends, much less her male friends. “Oh, I see. You know, though, I think he should talk with his family first. I don’t think it’d be too late if we regrouped after that. Yeah, in fact, it’s probably premature now.” Maybe that smart-sounding lip service would be enough to convince him. And maybe he’ll get away from Komachi and leave, I thought, making a show as if I knew what I was talking about.

“Yeah, I know, but…lately she’s always coming home late, and she doesn’t listen to our parents at all. And if I say anything, she’s just like, ‘It’s got nothing to do with you’ and snaps at me…,” Taishi said, head drooping. He seemed quite worried about her. “You’re the only person I can rely on, Bro.”

“You’ve got no business calling me ‘Bro.’”

“You sound like a stubborn old man.” A cold voice rained down on me from behind. I turned to find that Yukinoshita and the others had already arrived.

Komachi, judging that we were acquainted by the fact that we wore the same uniforms, quickly adopted a businesslike smile. “Hey, how are you! I’m Komachi Hikigaya. I’m so glad to meet my brother’s friends,” she declared, bobbing her head in greeting. She’s always had a special knack for putting on a good “people face.”

On the other hand, there was Taishi, who basically just lowered his head to a middling angle in a half-baked excuse for greeting before stating his name.

“You’re Hachiman’s sister? Nice to meet you. I’m his classmate, Saika Totsuka.”

“Oh, nice to meet you! Wow, you’re so cute! Right, Bro?”

“Hmm, yeah. But he’s a guy.”

“Ha-ha! You’re so funny. Don’t troll me, Bro.”

“Oh, um… I’m…a boy…,” Totsuka stammered, shyly blushing and averting his eyes.

Wait, was he really a boy at all?!

“Huh…? Really?” Komachi asked, poking her elbow into my side.

“Sorry, I’m not really sure anymore myself, but he’s probably a guy. Though he is cute.”

“O-oh…” Her expression still half-incredulous, Komachi intently scrutinized Totsuka’s features. Every time she said, “Your eyelashes are soooo long! Your skin is sooo pretty!” Totsuka, red-faced, fidgeted, as if trying to escape her gaze.

He was so cute when he did that, I wanted nothing more than to watch him, but I caught the S-save me! plea he was giving me and peeled Komachi off him. “I think that’s enough. And this is Yuigahama; that’s Yukinoshita.” I briefly introduced them, and Komachi finally turned her attention to the girls.

When Komachi’s eyes met hers, Yuigahama tittered and introduced herself. “N-nice to meet you… I’m Hikki’s classmate, Yui Yuigahama.”

“Oh, nice to m—huh? Hmm…” Komachi stopped. She stared at Yuigahama hard until sweat dribbled down Yuigahama’s face, prompting her to avert her eyes. Were they a snake and a frog or what? After they’d been squaring off with each other for about three seconds, the silence was broken.

“Are you done?” Apparently, Yukinoshita was done dutifully waiting, as she now cut between Komachi and Yuigahama with a frigid voice. Her tone alone was enough to make them go quiet and acknowledge her. It was amazing. Her cool, clear voice was very soft and sedate. But even so, you could hear it distinctly. It was like trying to listen to the sound of fresh snow gently piling on the ground. I think it would be accurate to portray the two girls—rather than having fallen silent—as having had their collective breath stolen away. Komachi opened her eyes wide, unable to look away from Yukinoshita. From where I was sitting, for an instant, it looked as if she was mesmerized.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Yukino Yukinoshita. I’m Hikigaya’s… Hikigaya’s what, I wonder… We’re neither classmates nor friends…so while it truly pains me…acquaintances?”

“Why’d you have to say it ‘pains you’ and phrase it as a question?”

“No, perhaps acquaintance is fine. Though all I’m really acquainted with is his name. To be precise, I don’t want to be acquainted with any more than that. Can you still say that I’m acquainted with him?”

What cruel remarks. But when you think about it, the definition of acquaintance is vague. I get friend better, somehow. Can you call someone an acquaintance after only having met them once? Then if you see someone more than once, are they an acquaintance? How much information do you need about someone to call them an acquaintance?

I think it’s a bad idea to use a designation with a vague definition. In a case like this, I thought it preferable to adopt more concrete terminology. “Can’t you just say we go to the same school or that we’re schoolmates or something?”

“I see… I shall amend my statement, then. I am Yukino Yukinoshita, and while it pains me to say it, we attend the same school.”

“So it still pains you, huh…?” Yeah, well you’re a pain in the butt.

“But there’s nothing else I could call you.” Yukinoshita looked a little stumped.

“Oh, no, what you two just said told me all I need to know about your relationship, so it’s okay,” Komachi said kindly. It’s nice that my sister catches on so quickly, but I think she’s lacking in sisterly love.

“Um, so what should I do, then?” asked Taishi.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah.” I turned to find the kid apparently near the end of his rope, his face troubled. Here I was feeling as if I’d been left out today, but it must have been even more uncomfortable for him. The only one he knew here was Komachi. It’s really awkward getting dragged into some weird scenario by someone who’s just an acquaintance of an acquaintance, to say nothing of the rest of us being older. You feel even more out of place and reserved. You get self-conscious and avoid saying anything that could be rude, and then everyone else is like, What’s wrong? You’re so quiet, and things end up going the other way entirely. They start tiptoeing around you, and you end up wanting to die. Then there’s nothing you can do besides pretend to listen, say things like Mm-hmm and Really? with a vague smile tossed in every so often.

Taishi had actually tried his best to confide in us about something, though, so that meant he had fairly strong communication skills. He was a boy with a promising future. Not so promising that I’d let him have Komachi, though.

“Um…I’m Taishi Kawasaki. My older sister is a second-year at Soubu High. Oh, her name is Saki Kawasaki. She’s, like…a delinquent now, or I guess you could say she’s gone bad…”

I recalled hearing that name quite recently. Trying to remember when that had been, I put a drop of milk in my coffee, and that’s when a deluge of memories assaulted me. The black-and-white contrast in my cup changed to gradations of brown, stimulating my vision.

That’s it! The black lace girl! “Saki Kawasaki from our class, huh?”

“Saki Kawasaki…” Yukinoshita looked puzzled as the name came to her lips. Apparently, she didn’t know her very well.

But Yuigahama was in our class, and so she clapped her hands. “Oh! Kawasaki, right? She’s kind of…a bad girl? Like, sorta the scary type.”

“You’re not friends?”

“Well, I have talked to her before, but…I guess maybe we’re not friends… And hey, don’t ask girls questions like that. They’re hard to answer.” Yuigahama was obfuscating. I guess there’s all sorts of groups and factions and associations and guilds and stuff between girls. Anyway, from the way she talked, Kawasaki and Yuigahama’s relationship probably wasn’t that close.

“I’ve never seen Kawasaki being friendly with anyone, though… I feel like she’s always looking out the window and zoning out.”

“Yeah, I get that impression, too,” Totsuka said, reminding me of how I’d seen Kawasaki in the classroom. Her grayish eyes and how she watched the clouds, alone, as they flowed by. Her mind was indeed elsewhere, focused on something far away, someplace that wasn’t there.

“When did your sister start turning into a delinquent?” asked Yukinoshita.

“Y-yes’m!” Taishi twitched at the unexpected question. Just so you know, I’ll add that it wasn’t just that Yukinoshita was scary. Taishi was nervous because a pretty older girl was talking to him. This is the correct response for a middle school boy. If I were in middle school, I’d probably have felt the same. Now that I’m in high school, though, she’s just scary to me. “U-um…she was able to get into Soubu High, so when she was in middle school, she was a real serious student. Plus, she was pretty nice, and she cooked for me a lot. She didn’t change much in the first year of high school, either… It’s only been recently.”

“So when she started second year?” I asked.

“Yes,” Taishi confirmed.

Taking that in, Yukinoshita began pondering the question. “Can you think of anything that has changed since she started second year?”

“I guess the easy answer would be changing classes? Since she changed to Class F,” I suggested.

“In other words, since she was put in your class.”

“Hey, why are you saying it like I’m the cause? Am I a virus?”

“I’m not saying that. I think you have a persecution complex, Herpegaya.”

“I heard that! I heard you call me a disease!”

“Slip of the tongue,” Yukinoshita said, looking unconcerned.

Being treated like a disease unearthed some old trauma for me, so I really wished she would stop. Just one touch and they’d be going:

It’s Herpegaya!

Tag!

I just put up a barrier!

Little kids can be too cruel, am I right? Barriers don’t work on Herpegaya! they’d say… Just how powerful am I?

“But, like, when you say she comes home late and stuff, though, just how late is that?” Yuigahama asked. “Like, I stay out pretty late, too. It’s not that weird for someone in high school.”

“Oh, y-yes, I know, but…” Taishi turned away from her, flustered. This was because, well, he was shy having an incredibly sexy woman talk to him. This is a very middle school boy response. Now that I was in high school, I didn’t give a damn what I said to hos like her.

“But she comes home at, like, after five.”

“That’s more like morning,” I observed. That’d make you late all right. Even if you could get any sleep, you’d only manage about two hours.

“Y-your parents don’t say anything…about her coming home that late?” Totsuka fretted, concerned.

“No…both our parents work, and we have a younger brother and sister, so they don’t get on her case much. And because all three of them are out a lot, they don’t see each other very often… Well, it’s a big family, so my parents have their hands full just managing it all.” Taishi answered Totsuka’s question relatively normally. Hmm, so middle school boys don’t get Totsuka’s appeal yet. Now that I’m in high school, he’s actually really cute. “Even when they do see each other, they just get into fights, but if I say anything, it’s always just ‘It’s got nothing to do with you’…” Taishi’s shoulders slumped, and he seemed quite distraught.

“Family issues, hmm… Any family has them,” said Yukinoshita, her expression turning melancholy in a way I’d never seen before. It was as if she was on the verge of tears, just like Taishi when he came to talk to us about his problems… No, even moreso.

“Yukinoshita…,” I started to say. Maybe a cloud had been hiding the sun, because suddenly a shadow fell over her downturned face. I couldn’t make out her expression very well. All I could see were her shoulders sagging weakly, telling me she’d let out a short sigh.

“What is it?” she prodded, lifting her head, her cold expression unchanged from its usual posture.

The sun had been obscured by clouds for only an instant. I still don’t know the meaning of that sigh. Perhaps I was the only one who’d noticed that she seemed different in that instant. Taishi and the others carried on as if nothing had happened.

“And that’s not all… People from sort of…odd places keep calling her.”

Taishi’s statement prompted a question mark from Yuigahama. “Weird places?”

“Yeah. A place called Angel or something, I think it’s a business… The manager calls her.”

“What’s weird about that?” Totsuka asked.

Taishi smacked the table. “I-I mean, it’s called Angel! That’s gotta be sketchy!”

“Huh? I don’t get that impression at all…,” Yuigahama said, slightly taken aback, but I understood perfectly.

Why, you ask? Because my eighth-grade-level naughty sensors were telling me so. For example, let’s try adding ‘Kabuki-cho’ to the word angel. See, it sounds 50 percent sexier now. By the way, if you add super to it, too, it becomes another 40 percent sexier. This was definitely a sexy sort of business. This kid had potential, noticing something like that.

“Now, now, hold on and calm down, Taishi. I understand everything.”

Taishi seemed happy that I got him. His eyes still fierce, he wiped them and enveloped me in a warm embrace. “B-bro!”

“Ha-ha-ha, don’t call me ‘Bro,’ all right? I’ll kill you, okay?”

While us men were busily erecting firm bonds over what is known as Eros, the girls, unperturbed, were settling on a proper course of action. “At any rate, if she’s working, then first we must ascertain where,” Yukinoshita strategized. “Even if it isn’t some dubious establishment as those idiots suggest, it isn’t good that she works there until dawn. We must find out where this place is and make her resign as soon as possible.”

“Hmm… But if we force her to quit, she might just start working again somewhere else, you know?” Yuigahama said.

Komachi nodded. “It’d be like a viper and a mongoose, huh?”

“Are you trying to say whack-a-mole?” Yukinoshita corrected.

Oh, sister mine. Please refrain from shaming the Hikigaya name. Yukinoshita is rolling her eyes here.

“In other words, you’re saying that we must treat both the symptoms and the root of the disease simultaneously.” Yukinoshita drew her conclusion just as I was finally prying Taishi off me.

“Hey, hold on a second. Are you expecting us to do something?”

“Why not? Saki Kawasaki is a student at our school, and given that her younger brother’s concern is related to her, I believe this falls within the scope of Service Club activity.”

“Bro.” I felt some tiny jabs in my back. I turned to find Komachi smiling sweetly. It was the smile she busted out when she wanted something. A long time ago, my sister had gotten that same look on her face when I had spent my Christmas wish on her. Why’d I have to ask Santa for Love and Berry cards?

I couldn’t fight Komachi. She held the ultimate trump card, which was our parents’ affection. Damn it, she was so uncute. “Fine,” I conceded reluctantly.

Taishi erupted in joy and fired off some high-speed bows. “Th-thank you! Sorry, thank you so much!”

The Saki Kawasaki correction program began the next day. When I went to the clubroom, Yukinoshita was holding a difficult-looking book in her hands. “Well then, let’s get started.”

Yuigahama and I nodded. For some reason, Totsuka was there, too.

“Totsuka, no one’s forcing you to be here.” Actually, I felt incredibly guilty for dragging him into Yukinoshita’s ridiculous scheme. Most likely, the only thing he was going to get out of this was a bad end.

But Totsuka shook his head with a smile. “No, it’s okay. I heard what’s going on, too. Plus, I’m interested in finding out what you guys will do… If I’m not in the way, I’d…like to go with you.”

“I-I see… Then…please go with me.” I unconsciously tried to look cool while I said the ‘go with me’ part. I mean, like—look, he was looking up at me, saying he wanted to go out with me while squeezing the cuff of my jacket, you know? I’d have been a failure as a man if I hadn’t take advantage!

But…he was a guy, though… Sigh.

Since club time was temporarily canceled, there weren’t many people left in the building after school. Aside from us, there were pretty much just the students studying independently and Saki Kawasaki, who’d been called to the faculty office for counseling on account of being late. The policy was you got called to the faculty office for counseling if you were late more than five times in a month. Right about then, Miss Hiratsuka had probably caught Kawasaki and was lecturing her in earnest.

“I’ve considered the matter a bit, and I believe it’s best for Kawasaki to resolve her issues herself. Recovering by means of her own efforts is less risky than forcing her into it, and she is less likely to rebound.”

“Yeah, that’s probably true.” That assessment isn’t just limited to juvenile delinquents. It’s annoying when other people criticize your behavior. Criticism only makes you more resistant to change, even when it’s someone close to you offering frank advice. Cast as a simple analogy, it’s like your mom saying, Why don’t you stop lazing around and study? before a test. Your natural reaction is like, Agh, come on… I was just thinking about doing that! Man, now I don’t want to anymore! It’s just like that.

“So what exactly are we going to do?”

“Have you heard of animal therapy?”

Animal therapy is, simply put, using interaction with animals as a sort of mental health treatment. It relieves stress and promotes positive emotional outcomes. Yukinoshita briefly explained it in similar terms, and Yuigahama listened, making mm-hmm noises.

Well, that probably wasn’t a terrible idea. The way Taishi told it, Kawasaki had started out a serious and kind girl. A pet could trigger her kinder nature. But there was a problem. “So where are you gonna get this animal?”

“About that… Do any of you have a cat?” Yukinoshita asked.

Totsuka replied by shaking his head. How cute. Couldn’t he pass as a therapy animal? I thought he was supereffective.

“I have a dog… Will that work?” Yuigahama stuck her index and pinky fingers in the air, bringing the other three fingers together to make a hand sign. Hey, wasn’t that a fox?

“A cat is preferable.”

“I don’t really get the difference, though,” I said. “Is there, like…some kind of scientific rationale for this?”

“Not especially, but… Anyway, no dogs.” Yukinoshita insisted, jerking her gaze away.

“So you’re just scared of dogs, huh?”

“When did I say anything like that? I’ll thank you not to jump to conclusions.” Yukinoshita pouted, her expression indignant.

Yuigahama leaped on that remark. “No way! Yukinon, you don’t like dogs? Why not? Why not?! They’re the cutest things!”

“You only feel that way because you like dogs.” Yukinoshita’s tone grew somewhat lower. What? Did she have some kind of dog-related trauma? Maybe she’d been bitten as a child. Well, if she hated them, we didn’t have to force her. At the time, it was enough to have discovered one of her weaknesses.

“I have a cat. Will that work?”

“Yes.” Once I got Yukinoshita’s nod, I gave Komachi a call. I heard some weird music I didn’t recognize ring like doo dee dee doo. What was that ringtone? Why was her phone singing?

“Hello, hellooo! This is Komachi!”

“Hey, Komachi. Are you at home now?”

“Yeah, I am! Why you asking?”

“The cat’s there, right? Sorry, but can you bring him to my school?”

“Huh? Why? Kaa’s heavy, and I don’t wanna.”

Kaa is the name of our cat. Originally, his name was Kamakura, which was too long, so at some point, it got shortened. We named him Kamakura because he’s round like a kamakura, an igloo.

“Well, like, Yukinoshita is asking us to bring him.”

“I’ll come right away.” The sudden beep, beep, beep of the disconnect tone blared in my ear after she hung up.

Huh? Why’d her attitude change the minute she found out it was Yukinoshita’s request? She didn’t want to do it when it was me asking! Still irked, I put away my phone. Our school was well known in the area, so she probably wouldn’t get lost on the way.

“She said she’s coming right away. Mind if I wait outside?” I asked to Yukinoshita. I waited by the school gates for twenty minutes, and then Komachi appeared gallantly with a cat carrier in one hand. “Sorry for making you come all the way here.”

“It’s okay! Yukino asked, after all!” Komachi replied with a grin, opening the top of the carrier.

Kamakura was inside, enshrined in the box like a rare item. He glared back at me with a brazen expression that said, Oi. What’re you lookin’ at? He was distinctly lacking in cuteness as a cat.

“Wow! He’s so cute!” Totsuka exclaimed, petting him.

Kamakura twisted himself around like Hey, hey, are you serious? Wait! Not the tummy, not the tummy! Don’t fluff it up! He was utterly at Totsuka’s mercy.

“So what’re we gonna do with him?” I took Kamakura from Totsuka, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and just letting him dangle. By the way, this is the wrong way to hold a cat. The right way is to cradle it in your arms.

“We’ll put it in a cardboard box and place it where Kawasaki will find it,” Yukinoshita said. “If she’s touched by the sight of it, she’ll surely pick it up to take home.”

“She’s not some 1980s street gang leader.” Juvenile delinquent = stray cat? Your ideas are two generations behind. But still, we weren’t really friends with Kawasaki, so this sort of roundabout approach was necessary in order to pull off this animal therapy thing.

“I’ll go get a cardboard box, then,” Yukinoshita informed us.

I tried handing the cat over to Yuigahama, who was standing nearby, but she took a quick step back. Hey, c’mon, take it. I tried one more time, calling “Yuigahama!” as I held out Kamakura. She avoided him again. “What?”

“Oh, uh, i-i-i-i-it’s nothing!” Yuigahama stammered nervously as she reached for the cat. When he saw her hands, Kamakura meowed. Yuigahama flinched and snatched them back.

“Wait… Do you not like cats?”

“Wh-what?! O-of course not! I love them, in fact! W-wow, s-so cute! M-meow!” Her voice quivered. This weird pretense that she liked them was wholly unnecessary, though.

“You take him, Komachi.” I handed Kamakura to Komachi, and he suddenly started purring comfortably. Damn, even the cat hated me.

“I’ll be back in a sec.” If I asked at some office building, they’d probably have cardboard boxes. Every cat has specific tastes when it comes to boxes, but ours isn’t very picky. Also, for some reason he likes plastic and tends to lick the shrink-wrap on comics and stuff. Did that taste good?! I walked along, considering getting him a plastic bag. As I mulled on that and other ways I might increase the cat’s affection for me, Yuigahama caught up to me.

“S-so, like, I don’t actually hate cats, okay?”

“Hmm? Oh, well, you don’t have to like them. Yukinoshita apparently doesn’t like dogs, and I didn’t like bugs and stuff.” Also, while I’m at it, I’m not fond of people, either.

“No, but I really don’t hate them. I think they’re cute and stuff.”

“So are you allergic or something?”

“No, that’s not the problem… Um, cats can disappear, you know? So, they make me kind of sad,” she confessed, very unlike her usual chipper self. Her eyes were timid and sad. Her pace slowed, and I naturally slowed to match her. “I used to live in an apartment complex. Back then, there was a fad for secretly keeping a pet cat.”

“First I’ve heard of a fad like that.”

“Kids living in apartments go through phases! You can’t keep pets in an apartment, you know? So you take in a stray cat and hide it from your parents. But at some point, it disappeared…” She giggled evasively.

So that’s why she didn’t like them. I wonder how losing that cat had affected her at that age. She’d treasured it so much, bonded with it and gotten close, but even so, it had disappeared. Maybe wondering why it had run off had made her resent it. She might even have felt betrayed. But she probably knew by now that cats leave their owners when they sense they’re about to die. Now that she was older, I wondered how Yuigahama looked back on that parting. Maybe she regretted it.

This was all just my speculation, and I might’ve been totally off the mark. Even so, I thought Yuigahama’s grief and kindness were real.

Silently, without exchanging a single word, the two of us carried the admittedly light cardboard box together.

When we put Kamakura in the box, he tested its texture with his front paws. He kneaded it about three times, and then, apparently satisfied—as if thinking, Hmm, not bad—he began to purr.

Now all that was left was to wait for Saki Kawasaki to make her entrance. The problem was we didn’t know when she might show up. Miss Hiratsuka’s lectures varied in length depending on her mood.

“Just in case, let’s designate different roles for everyone,” Yukinoshita suggested.

And so Yukinoshita became our self-appointed leader, Totsuka the lookout in front of the faculty office, and Yuigahama was stationed by the parking lot. Komachi was the switchboard keeping us all in contact, and my orders were to hold the box and dash into position when the time came.

I don’t know what the others were up to, but I had nothing to do pending my signal. With a mind to restoring some of my flagging energy, I went to a vending machine nearby to buy a Sportop while I waited. I stabbed a straw into the Tetra Pak and took a sip or two, and on my way back, something happened.

“Meow!” I heard Kamakura’s familiar refrain.

“Meow!” Answered by the unfamiliar mimicry of a girl’s voice.

Unable to help myself, I scanned the area but didn’t see any other girls around besides Yukinoshita. So I called from behind her, inquiring, “What’re you doing?”

“What?” Yukinoshita replied nonchalantly.

“Uh, you were talking to the c—”

“More importantly, I thought I ordered you to stand by. But you’re incapable of even something that simple, aren’t you? I thought I’d sufficiently accounted for your incompetence, but frankly, I didn’t think you were this bad. How do you supervise someone with an intellect inferior to an elementary schooler?” Yukinoshita’s merciless frigidity was amped up about 50 percent greater than usual. But most notably, her eyes warned, If you talk anymore, I’ll kill you.

“S-sir, yes, sir. Returning to standby.” As I trudged back to the bench that served as my post, I felt my cell phone vibrate. It was an unknown number. Given the timing, it could only be Komachi, Yuigahama, Totsuka, or possibly Yukinoshita. I knew Komachi’s and Yuigahama’s numbers, and since I’d spoken to Yukinoshita just a moment ago, she probably wouldn’t call me… So that meant Totsuka?! “H-hello?!”

“Oh, is that you, Bro? I got your number from your sister.”

“I have no brothers or stepbrothers.” I hung up and instantly got another call. I ignored it at first, but as he refused to give up, I decided I’d be the one to surrender.

“Hey, why did you hang up?!”

“What is it?”

“Well, I just heard you have some kind of plan with a cat, but my sister is allergic.”

Huh? Was our operation compromised? “Hey, why didn’t you tell me that earlier?”

“Sorry, I only just found out what you were doing now.”

“Oh, fine. I get it. Thanks for letting me know. Bye.”

This time I hung up on him for good and quickly headed over to Yukinoshita. She was crouched in front of Kamakura, scratching his chin and smooshing the pads of his paws.

“Yukinoshita.” Hearing my call, she yanked her hands away from the cat, glaring at me as if to say, Now what? I thought, Look, I already forgot what happened before. If you keep eyeing me like that, you’re just gonna make me remember. “I just got a call from Taishi, and he says Kawasaki’s allergic to cats. So even if we leave him somewhere, I don’t think she’s gonna pick him up.”

“Sigh. Abort, then,” Yukinoshita said, patting Kamakura’s head as if she didn’t want to see him go. Meow.

We called everyone to inform them of our retreat, and Yuigahama, Totsuka, and Komachi all came back.

“Bro, did you get Taishi’s call?”

“Yeah, I did. But, like…don’t go giving out phone numbers randomly. What if something bad happens? You’ve gotta be careful handling personal info.”

“Your personal information isn’t worth all that much, though,” Yukinoshita teased in a slightly humorous tone.

“Not mine. I’m talking about Komachi’s. Don’t give it out so casually. Especially not to boys.”

“Come on. I’m always careful with this stuff!” Komachi ignored my warning with a smile. Well, she was good at dealing with things, if nothing else. Probably better than me.

In fact, I was the one who had to pull it together. Now that our animal therapy gambit had fallen apart, we had to come up with a new plan. I turned back toward Yukinoshita, figuring she might know what to do.

Yukinoshita looked from Komachi to me and then back again and sighed. “You two sure are close… I’m a little envious,” she said.

“Huh? Oh, most only children say stuff like that, but it’s not that great.”

“No, I’m… Oh, never mind.” Oddly, she didn’t finish her thought. Usually, she never held back. She’d say anything loud and clear. Maybe she’d eaten something bad, like Yuigahama’s cookies or something.

“Anyway, what’re we doing?” I asked. “We’ve gotta come up with something.”

“U-um…” Totsuka timidly raised his hand. His eyes darted back and forth between Yukinoshita and Yuigahama, his anxious gaze pleading, I-is it okay for me to say something…?

Of course it’s okay! Even if everyone else forbids it, I won’t! Even if it’s a forbidden love!

“Go ahead. You may speak freely. We’ll help out, too,” said Yukinoshita.

“Then, well…why don’t we have Miss Hiratsuka talk to her? I think there might be some things she can’t tell her parents… They’re just too close. But maybe she can confide in another adult?”

Oh-ho, that was a respectable idea. Indeed, there are things you can’t say to your parents precisely because they’re your parents. For example, I’d definitely never want to talk to my parents about anything having to do with porno mags or relationships. Also, I can’t tell them about the time I went to school and my desk was on the balcony, or that time my shoe cubby was stuffed with garbage, or when I got all excited about getting a love letter only to find my classmates were pranking me.

So consulting a third party was the way to go. Having a dependable adult with a lot of life experience help us out might be just the thing. “But Miss Hiratsuka…” That was the part that made me uneasy. Could you really call a cringeworthy person like that an adult? I think the only adult part about her was her boobs.

“I believe that Miss Hiratsuka is very concerned about her students’ welfare in comparison to other teachers. I don’t think we could make a better choice.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Yukinoshita was right: Miss Hiratsuka was serious about her job as a guidance counselor. She was always sending kids off to the Service Club with their problems, but she could only do that because she was in constant contact with her students and spent a lot of time watching them. “Then I’ll try contacting her.” I summed up everything going on with Saki Kawasaki in an e-mail. I never would have guessed I’d need Miss Hiratsuka’s e-mail address, but here it was proving unexpectedly useful. “‘Details on the above matter at the entrance.’ Okay, now she should come.” I finished off the e-mail and waited. Five minutes later, I could hear the hard click, click, click of her heels.

“Hikigaya, I understand the situation. Give me the specifics.” Miss Hiratsuka appeared, her expression serious. She crushed the cigarette that had been perched between her lips in a portable ashtray. I explained everything we knew about Saki Kawasaki and what we had surmised about her. Miss Hiratsuka listened patiently and, at the end of our explanation, let out a short sigh. “A student at our school working late at night is concerning. Urgently so. I’ll take care of this personally, heh-heh-heh.” Miss Hiratsuka laughed fearlessly. “Come on. You kids just watch. Right before I came down, I dismissed Kawasaki. She should be here in about two minutes.”

What was this indescribable foreboding? A scent lingering in the air told me she was about to have her bubble burst. “Um, you’re not allowed to punch or kick her or anything, okay?”

“Come on… I-I only do that kind of thing to you, okay?”

“Was that supposed to sound cute?”

Meanwhile, Saki Kawasaki showed up at the school entrance. Her pace was sluggish, and occasionally, she’d let out a wide yawn. The bag dangling off her lazy, drooping shoulders was sliding down her arm, but she showed no sign of caring. It swung back and forth, caught on her elbow.

“Kawasaki, wait.” Miss Hiratsuka called out behind her, adopting a dramatic stance.

Kawasaki turned to look, her eyes narrowed, half-lidded like she was glaring. When she turned around, her posture smoothly straightened. Miss Hiratsuka was tall, but Kawasaki had her beat in that capacity. The loosely tied boots on her long legs kicked a pebble with a rattle. “Did you want something?” Her listless, husky voice was sharp. Frankly, she was scary. It wasn’t the come-at-me-ya-punk style scariness of a juvenile delinquent or a gang member. It was more the brazen scary of a bartender in the sketchy end of town, the type who’d be leaning alone on the bar smoking a cigarette with a whiskey in hand.

And then there was Miss Hiratsuka. Scary vibes were rolling off her body in waves. Hers was the intimidation factor of an office lady who acted like an old man eating gomoku soba in a Chinese restaurant by the station in a commuter city, tossing back a bottle of beer in one go, and yelling Get off the field, you lousy pitcher! at the baseball game on TV.

What the hell? Is this some kind of epic kaijuu battle?

“I heard you’ve been getting home late recently, Kawasaki. Apparently, you’re not going back until morning. What on earth are you doing and where?”

“Who told you that?”

“I can’t divulge my source, obviously. Just answer my question.” Miss Hiratsuka’s confident smile didn’t break.

Kawasaki heaved a languid sigh. Depending on how you saw it, it could have been interpreted as scoffing at the teacher. “Nothing. What does it matter where I was? I’m not bothering anyone.”

“Your activities could start causing trouble at any time. Even if you hardly come, you’re still in high school. See what happens when you get picked up by the cops. Both your parents and I will get a call from the police.”

But Kawasaki just scowled vacantly.

Unable to tolerate the look, Miss Hiratsuka grabbed her arm. “Have you never considered your parents’ feelings?” The teacher’s gaze was intense. She’d seized her student’s arm with no intention of letting go, and undoubtedly, her hand was warm. Perhaps that warmth would reach Kawasaki’s frigid heart…

“Miss Hiratsuka…,” Kawasaki mumbled, touching the older woman’s arm and meeting her eyes. But then… “I don’t care about my parents’ feelings. And you don’t even have kids, so how would you know? Why don’t you get married and have children before lecturing me?”

“Gagh!”

Kawasaki casually shook free of Miss Hiratsuka’s grasp. The educator lost her balance as if she’d been struck by a hard right. She’d taken quite a bit of damage. Apparently, those warm feelings had missed their mark.

“Miss Hiratsuka, you need to worry about your own future, not mine. Like finding a husband.”

That final blow sent Miss Hiratsuka jerking forward where she’d previously been pitching back. Her knees shook wildly. So the damage went to her legs, huh? The trembling shot up through her waist to her shoulders, reaching even her voice. “…Ngh…guh…” Her eyes held a tinge of moistures, and her reply was caught in her throat.

Kawasaki callously ignored her and disappeared into the parking lot.

At a loss for words, we exchanged glances. Yuigahama and Komachi awkwardly fixed their vision on the pavement, and Totsuka muttered, “Poor Miss Hiratsuka…”

Then Yukinoshita prodded me in the back. Apparently, she expected me to do something.

Wait, why me? Despite my misgivings, seeing our teacher’s pitiable state, I felt obligated to say something to her. Was this feeling… perhaps…sympathy? “U-um…Miss Hiratsuka?” I began, trying to come up with something comforting.

She turned, hunched over like a zombie. Sniff. “I’m going home now,” she said in a thin, wavering voice, rubbing the tears from the corners of her eyes with a knuckle. And then, without waiting for my reply, she began staggering unsteadily toward the parking lot.

“G-good-bye!” I watched her back as she trudged along, all alone in the dusk. The sun got in my eyes, almost making them water.

Seriously, someone needed to marry that woman.

An hour after Miss Hiratsuka disappeared into the sunset, becoming a single star shining in the night sky, we were at Chiba station.

Komachi had gone home with the cat, Kamakura. My little sister was still in middle school and too young to be going into central Chiba. Eating chips at the Food Court in Yokado by Highway 14 with her friends suited her better. Seriously, why did middle schoolers like Yokado so much? I couldn’t stand running into her and her friends when I went shopping with our mom. Cut it out, Komachi. Go to Mother Farm or something.

Anyway, it was almost seven thirty, the perfect time for the city to show off its vibrant night scene. “Apparently, there are only two establishments with angel in their name open until morning,” I said.

“So this is one of those places?” Yukinoshita gave the neon sign flashing MAID CAFÉ ANGEL TALE a dubious look. There was even a sandwich board to the side that said, WELCOMEOW BACK—WOOF!   with a picture of a beckoning girl with animal ears. Yukinoshita’s attitude blatantly conveyed her impression of What the hell?

I felt the same way. What the hell. “Welcomeow back—woof!”? Are you a dog or a cat?

“So there’s a maid café in Chiba, huh…?” Yuigahama made interested noises and gazed at it curiously.

“You have no idea, Yuigahama,” I said. “Chiba has everything. Getting a mistaken impression of some fad from somewhere or other and then adopting it is what Chiba does. Feel this sad, disappointing vibe. This is Chiba quality.” Indeed, you could even say that Chiba prefecture has mastered the art of disappointment. Be it the New Tokyo International Airport, the Tokyo Game Show, the Tokyo German Village or the “Shibuya of Chiba,” Kashiwa…despite Tokyo’s constant influence, it’s Chiba’s thing to obsess over being Chiba-ish in weird ways and to rework things in its own fashion. And when you consider the existence of the high-class residential area Chibarly Hills, it’s apparent that this fixation has led Chiba to take on the entire world.

And so in Chiba city, Animate and Tora no Ana and their ilk have crowded together close to Chiba Central Station on the Keisei Line, becoming the center of a certain type of Chiba subculture. Chiba’s reaction to Akiba. And so it was only natural that a maid café would pop up around here.

“I don’t really know much about this sort of thing, but…um, what’s a maid café like?” Totsuka had been reading the signboard over and over, but apparently, it was over his head. Well yeah, the sign said, WHY DON’T WE SPEND SOME MOE MOE MAID TIME TOGETHER? Nobody would get that. What the heck was “moe moe maid time”? Was I gonna be a maid, too?

“Well, I’ve never actually gone to one myself, so I don’t really know… So I called up someone who does know a lot about this stuff.”

“Oh-ho-hem! Thou hast summoned me, Hachiman?” That was when Yoshiteru Zaimokuza emerged from the ticket gate of Keisei Chiba Central Station. Though it was early summer, he was sweating like a pig in his trench coat, chuckling to himself. There were salt crystals forming on his collar. Hey, if this were ancient China, you’d be executed for the illicit manufacture of salt.

“Eugh…” Yuigahama’s face twisted. It would have been harsh of me to blame her for it, though. Why? Because my expression was even more disgusted.

“Why do you look at me thusly? You’re the one who asked me to come.”

“Oh, I had to invite you, but dealing with you is kind of a pain in the ass.”

“I am shocked. Indeed I am. But as your abilities rival mine, I find it difficult to restrain my might when dealing with you. So I well understand how you might be loathe to deal with me.”

“Yeah, yeah, that. That’s the part that’s a pain in the ass,” I said, but Zaimokuza just burst into a weird, loud gwaba-ha-ha-ha! Get lost.

I didn’t actually want to invite him, but the only people I knew well versed in this stuff were Zaimokuza and Miss Hiratsuka. Plus, Miss Hiratsuka’s predilections were shonen manga and such, so naturally, my options were reduced to one. I’d already let Zaimokuza know what was going on via e-mail. I’d told him what time Kawasaki went home, that the place we thought she worked at had angel in the name, and stuff about Kawasaki herself. From those details, one of the shops Zaimokuza had come up with was this Angel Tale.

“Zaimokuza, are you sure this is the place?”

“Yes, there’s no question about it.” Zaimokuza’s fingers danced across his phone to bring up the information Professor Google had taught him. These things are convenient, but I worry that using cell phones or smartphones too much just wears out your fingers, and then you’ll really have a problem on your hands. “As you see here, there are two such shops in this city. And my ghost is whispering to me that Saki Kawasaki would most certainly pick this one.”

“How do you know?”

Zaimokuza’s reply was so abundantly ripe with confidence that my breath caught in my throat. Perhaps he’d grasped something that eluded us. He gave a throaty laugh.

I see… What he’s got isn’t confidence… It’s conviction.

“Just keep your mouths shut and follow me… The maids will lavish you with affection,” he declared, making his coat flutter and rustle. It looked as if a wind was rising from his feet.

Zaimokuza…

With those words, there was nothing for it but to follow him…to the promised land, the golden world overflowing with ambrosia, the holy kingdom where all men are loved. Feeling my heart throb as I wondered what the maids would do, I took one small step for mankind but one large step for me, and then it happened.

A tug on the bottom hem of my blazer. When I turned, there stood Yuigahama pouting.

“What?”

“Nothing. I was just thinking, Oh, so Hikki goes to places like this, too. It’s kinda gross.” Yuigahama kneaded my jacket with her fingertips, grinding away at it, her expression sullen. Stop it. You’re gonna give it lint balls.

“Uh, I don’t know what you mean. I need a full subject, verb, and object, okay?”

“I mean, like, isn’t this a café for guys? What about us?”

Hmm? Oh. Now that she mentioned it, I wondered if girls did go to maid cafés. Thinking, Teach me, O wise Zaimokuza, I cast him a glance, and reliable old Zaimokuza positioned himself on a slightly raised bit of pavement, crossed his arms, and spoke.

“Worry not, broad.”

“Are you calling me fat?”

Well, I think you do have certain large and round parts. I won’t say where, though.

“I thought perchance this might occur, so I brought maid outfits for infiltration and investigation,” he said, smoothly producing two maid uniforms from behind his back. They were even in plastic clothing covers from the cleaners and in perfect condition. Seriously, did he have a metal bat or a frying pan hidden back there, too, or what? “Ga-hum, ga-hum. Now then, Master Totsuka, shall we proceed…?”

Oh, so he was going for that one. Nice.

“Huh? Wh-why me…?”

Zaimokuza inched forward. Totsuka took one step back, then another in an attempt to run. What was this, a Godzilla movie? Usually, I’d play the hero and save Totsuka, even if it meant punching Zaimokuza in the gut, but this time, I couldn’t move at all.

I-I want to see it…

Finally, Totsuka was backed against a wall. Lit from behind as Zaimokuza was at that moment, he really seemed like a monster. “Come, Master Totsuka… Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on!”

A creature with a maid uniform in one hand looming before him, Totsuka shook his head vigorously, tears in his eyes. “N-no…no…” Though he knew resistance was futile, Totsuka squeezed those large eyes brimming with tears shut in an attempt to deny the reality before him. And then…

“Sure, sure, sure! I’d love to try one on! They’re cute!” Yuigahama squealed, yanking the costumes from Zaimokuza’s hands.

Ptoo. Zaimokuza spat.

The gesture apparently annoyed Yuigahama, as she gave Zaimokuza a look that said, What an obnoxious virgin. “Huh? What’s with that attitude? You’re kinda pissing me off.”

Normally, Zaimokuza’d have fled a situation like this by bursting into a coughing fit, but ensnared in a maid transfixion now, he was bolder. “Hmph, that is not what a maid is. The maid you speak of is just maid cosplay. It has no soul.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Yuigahama looked to me for assistance, but this was something I couldn’t help her with. As for why? Because I got it.

“You know, I get it. It’s like, you can put on a maid outfit, but it’s not gonna be right. You’ll just look like some irritating college student wearing it on a whim.” Seriously, most of the time, people like that look down on otaku, maids, and people into that sort of thing, but then they’ll turn around and worship maid outfits just for some party. What’s with that? It’s not a pleasant sight to see.

“When you cosplay, you must costume your soul as well! Come back once you’ve read Shirley! People like you do Miku cosplay at Comiket and then see nothing wrong with lighting up in the smoking area!” Zaimokuza’s fervent tirade drove Yuigahama back about three steps. Moaning as if pained, she looked for an ally, eyes darting to and fro before taking cover behind reliable Yukinoshita’s back.

Yukinoshita, now a shield, huffed and pointed to the ANGEL TALE sign. “It looks like this place welcomes women, too.”

I looked at the line where Yukinoshita was pointing, and she was right. It said, WOMEN ARE ALSO WELCOME! YOU CAN BE A MAID!

Hey, so the sign hadn’t been lying. They really did have “maid time.”

Anyway, so the five of us, boys and girls together, went into Angel Tale.

“Welcome back, Masters, my ladies!” We were given the standard greeting and led to a table. Yuigahama and Yukinoshita went to that maid dress-up thing or whatever, leaving just myself, Totsuka, and Zaimokuza at the table.

“I await your orders, Masters,” A girl wearing a cat-ear headband and red-framed glasses offered us menus. There were various dishes, like om nom nomlette rice and fluffy white curry   and cutie cutie   cake. Aside from the default menu, there were also several options like moe moe rock-paper-scissors or a photo session or the Sobu Line game. Hey, why’d they charge just for playing rock-paper-scissors? Was there some kind of hand-game bubble market?

Well, I didn’t really understand those kinds of choices, so I turned to Zaimokuza, who was sitting beside me, figuring I’d leave that stuff to him. Zaimokuza was looking right and left, all hunched up in his seat, quickly drinking his water. He hadn’t said a single word since we came in.

“Hey, what’s gotten into you?”

“Ngh… Though I am fond of places such as this, when I go in, I get so nervous… It’s hard for me to talk to the maids.”

“Oh.” I decided to ignore him.

Hands trembling, he continued wielding the glass in his hand like a vibroweapon.

The third person at the table wasn’t saying anything at all, so this time I tried talking to him. “Totsuka, so about this maid café…”

No reply.

“T-Totsuka?”

Once again, nothing. My sun, who always smiled brightly at me whenever I spoke to him, was ignoring me! Totsuka stubbornly stared in the opposite direction without saying a single word.

“Are you mad?” I asked. Ready to die if he kept up the cold shoulder, I picked up a fork as I spoke, ready to drive it into my own throat.

Finally, Totsuka broke the silence. “You didn’t save me out there.”

“Huh? Uh, well, that was because, like…”

“You tried to make me wear those cutesy clothes, even though I’m a boy.” Totsuka looked at me huffily.

He’s so cute even when he’s angry… Whoops. Bad. Stop right there. Totsuka’s a guy. Plus, the fact that he was mad probably meant he didn’t like being considered girlish. So if I said anything else along those lines, he’d probably feel awkward. “That was, um, like…you know…a joke between men. Like two wolves play-fighting. Sorta like that.”

“Really?”

“Really. A real man never lies.” Anyway, I had to emphasize the word man here. I’d draw attention to his intense manliness by saying man over and over.

“Th-then…okay…,” Totsuka said, blushing and finally forgiving me.

“Sorry. Let me apologize by buying you a cappuccino. In Italy, all men drink cappuccinos.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Perhaps my persistent man emphasis had paid off, as Totsuka cheered up. As he showed me the greatest smile, I cheerfully rang the bell on the table.

“I apologize for keeping you waiting, Masters.”

“Yeah, two cappuccinos, please.”

“If you would please, Master, we could put some art on your cappuccinos, like a kitty. Would that be to your liking?”

“No, we’re good.”

The maid showed no signs of displeasure at my refusal. “Very well, Master. Please wait just a bit  ,” she said, a brilliant grin on her face.

I guess that was something like the Sure, with pleasure! they say in an izakaya. As expected of a pro. Her service was lively, brisk, and quite delightful.

I don’t think maid cafés are popular merely because of the superficial pleasantness of words like moe moe or Master. They’re popular because they’re overflowing with this sort of passion for service. They hew to the principle of doing whatever it takes for the customer’s enjoyment. Rock-paper-scissors and drawing pictures on omelette rice in ketchup are merely expressions that spirit of hospitality can take. Customers come precisely because they can sense that enthusiasm in the maids.

Among these maids there was one who seemed particularly awkward. The tray in her hand trembled, and her eyes were constantly fixed on the cups on her tray, making her footsteps unsteady. She was bound to trip and show us her panties… Just as that thought crossed my mind, I realized it was Yuigahama.

“Th-thank you for waiting…M-Master.” Embarrassed, Yuigahama put the cups on the table, her face red. She was wearing a relatively plain, mainstream maid outfit. It was the kind with a black-and-white theme and frilly lace, and though the skirt was short, the outfit mainly emphasized her chest.

Silence.

“D-do I look okay?”

Yuigahama laid the tray on the table and spun around slowly. The decorative ribbons and frills fluttered.

“Wow, you look so cute, Yuigahama! Doesn’t she, Hachiman?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. I guess.” My reply to Totsuka was halfhearted.

Apparently, though, that qualified as praise to Yuigahama, and she smiled happily. “Really? That’s a relief… Hee-hee… Thanks.”

Frankly, I was surprised. Yuigahama looked ditzy, as usual, but her meek attitude and mildly embarrassed expression combined to give her a different impression than she usually made.

“Man, but, like, this outfit has such a short skirt, and the knee-highs are so tight! The people who wore this working back in the day must have had a rough time. If you had to wear this cleaning, you’d get as dusty as an old Swiffer.”

I retract my previous remarks. Yup, this was Yui Yuigahama. “It’s better when you keep your mouth shut.”

“What?! What’s that supposed to mean?!” She clonked me on the head with a tray. To think she’d raise a hand against her master…

“Enough fooling around.” I heard a cold voice and turned. There stood a maid from the era of the British Empire. Long skirt, long sleeves, dark moss green and embroidered black ribbon. Her stately image gave the plain garb a sort of extravagant air.

“Wow, Yukinon! Oh my gosh! It looks so good on you! You’re so pretty…” Yuigahama sighed in admiration.

Indeed, she was right. It really suited Yukinoshita. “You seem less like a maid and more like Rottenmeier, though…”

Personally, I felt like that was an understandable reference, but apparently, neither of the girls got it. Both of them looked puzzled, gaping at me quizzically.

“I’m saying it suits you.”

“Oh? Not that it’s important, though,” Yukinoshita replied as if she cared not in the slightest.

By the way, Rottenmeier was the older housekeeper from Heidi. Was she technically a maid? I suppose she was. A similar example would be the female cast at the Haunted Mansion in Disney parks.

“It seems Kawasaki does not work at this cafe.”

“So you were actually investigating…”

“Of course. That’s why I’m wearing this outfit.” Yukinoshita had been following through with this undercover investigation by her lonesome. A maid detective had been born.

And I’d had nothing on my mind beyond cheering up Totsuka…

“She’s not just off today?” Yuigahama asked, but Yukinoshita shook her head.

“Her name wasn’t on the shift schedule. And since they’ve been calling her at her house, I don’t think she could be using a fake name, either.”

To have deduced this much, she was less a maid and more a housekeeper. And The Housekeeper Saw It!

“Then that means that we’ve just been manipulated by fake information.” I gave Zaimokuza next to me a long, hard look.

He tilted his head and began groaning. “This is strange… It cannot be possible…”

“What can’t be possible?”

“Ah-hum! It’s simply preordained that a prickly girl should be secretly working at a maid café! And then when you walk in, she greets you with ‘Meow meow!   Welcome back, Master… Wait, why are you here?!’”

“You’re not making sense.” I didn’t give a damn about Zaimokuza’s fetishes. This guy had cost us an entire day. It was getting pretty late, so going to another place probably wasn’t gonna happen.

But, well, Yuigahama seemed happy about trying on the maid outfit, and we’d found a nice café. So I was fine with just letting it go.

The day after we went to the maid café, there were more people in the clubroom than there had ever been in its history. We’d been brought together by Yukinoshita’s assertion that if treating the symptoms failed, we should try another tack and aim to treat the source of the problem.

Yukinoshita, Yuigahama, and I were basically members, so I got why we were there. And Totsuka and Zaimokuza visited us regularly, so there wasn’t anything odd about their presence, either. Though anyone else being there should have seemed unnatural, oddly enough, the last guy fit right in.

“Why are you here?” I asked Hayama. He was reading a book by the window. Hey, you’re supposed to be the sunny sports type. You can’t be reading books. Are you Perfect Cell?

“Hey.” Hayama closed his book and waved. “Well, Yui invited me, too…”

“She did?”

I turned to see Yuigahama proudly puffing out her chest for some reason. “Well, I’ve been thinking that there’s a reason Kawasaki changed, right? So I think taking away whatever made her change is a good idea, too, but that’ll be hard if she won’t listen to anybody, right?”

“Hmm, well, that’s true.” Miraculously, Yuigahama was attempting to employ logic. Impressed by this tiny miracle, I commented to indicate I was listening.

Perhaps this flattered her, because she threw her chest out even more, leaning so far back she was practically looking at the ceiling. “Right?! So we need an idea to turn things around. Since she changed and went bad, if she changes again, she should go back to good.”

I guess this is what they mean by “The opposite of approval is approval.” Man, Fujio Akatsuki is so great.

“So why was it necessary to invite Hayama?” Perhaps Yukinoshita wasn’t so fond of him, as her tone was sharp. Hayama didn’t seem to be particularly bothered. His attention was focused on Yuigahama.

“Come on, Yukinon. There’s only one reason a girl would change.”

“The reason a girl would change… Do you mean the depreciation of her assets?”

“You mean like getting old?! N-no! At the end of the day, a girl is always a girl! Yukinon, you don’t get the importance of thinking with your smexy bits!”

“That again…” Yukinoshita sighed, exasperated.

But you know…I think girls who fail to notice that girls who use the word smexy aren’t overly smexy themselves lack smexiness.

“A girl would change because of…l-love.” What an embarrassing thing to blurt out. Plus, Yuigahama was more shamed for having said it than we were for hearing it. “A-anyway! Lots of things change when you have a crush! So I think maybe if we could just trigger that… And that’s why I invited Hayato.”

“U-um, but, I’m still not really following…,” Hayama confessed with a strained smile.

Come on, you jerk! If you really don’t get it, I’m gonna lose it, I thought, flaring my eyes wide and glaring at Hayama. At almost exactly the same moment, Zaimokuza did the same.

“There’s lots of other guys girls’d go for. Like, look at the guys here… Lots of girls like Totsuka, right?”

Phew… So Hayama is aware he’s a chick magnet… Wait, no—this is absolutely unforgivable! My eyes popped, and I doubled down with the glaring. Perfectly in sync, Zaimokuza did the same.

“I-I don’t really understand that stuff, though…” Totsuka looked down, blushing.

Seeing Totsuka like that, Yuigahama crossed her arms pensively. “Hmm, I agree that lots of girls like him, too, but I don’t think he’s Kawasaki’s type. And the rest of these guys are like…well, Special Snowflake is a special snowflake, so Hayato’s the only one left.”

“Hey, you can’t just casually leave me out.”

“Y-you’re out of the question, Hikki!”

Hey, no need to turn beet red and get all mad about it… But still, it was a bit of a shock that I was even more out of the question than Zaimokuza… And was “Special Snowflake” his nickname?

“Yuigahama’s assessment is sound,” said Yukinoshita. “Do you think anyone in our class who got to know you would be swayed?”

“You have a point.” Well, I was convinced. I mean, if I were a girl, I wouldn’t be interested in a loner like me. It’s because, you know, loners have ninja talents. Ninjas can’t afford to have people noticing them, so we can’t help but be ignored. Seriously, my ninja skills are awesome. Believe it.

“Oh, um, but I didn’t go that far, like…you’re not actually that bad, and, uh…there’s lots of reasons, so unfortunately…um, I want to ask Hayato to do this.” While I’d been busy wondering how best to make use of my ninja skills and considering becoming Hokage, Yuigahama had been attempting to move the conversation forward. “Could you do this for us?” Yuigahama pleaded, putting her palms together as she bowed her head.

No boy could refuse after being asked like that. Boys are complicated creatures. A boy is happy when someone relies on him, gets distracted by the boob jiggle when a girl smacks her hands together, and this sort of request stimulates his desire to save someone—to be a hero—that’s he’s fostered since he was small. You know, so complicated.

Apparently, Hayama was no exception to this rule, as he gave a tiny shrug and replied, “I understand. If that’s the reason, then I have no choice. Though I have my reservations, I’ll give it a shot. You give it your best shot, too, Yui,” he said, and he patted Yuigahama on the head.

No, you’re the one who’s going to be giving it your best shot.

“Th-thanks…,” said Yuigahama, rubbing the spot where he’d patted her.

And thus, the curtain rose on Yuigahama’s proposal: the Gigolo Hayama’s Rom-Com Pitter-Patter Heart-Pounding Operation! Hey, what’s with this Showa-esque naming affinity?

The gist of the plan was simple. Hayama would muster all his strength to HeartCatch Kawasaki, no keyblade required. See what I did there?

We readied ourselves to head home and then went to the parking lot to wait for Kawasaki to show up. Of course, it’d be weird for Hayama to be seen with the rest of us, so we decided to keep an eye on the two of them from a distance.

And then, finally, the time came. Just as she had the day before, Kawasaki walked listlessly, sluggishly, as if dragging her feet. She swallowed a yawn, and just as she unlocked her bike, Hayama appeared as if on cue.

“What’s up? You look pretty tired.” He greeted her casually. It was supposedly acting, but he seemed so natural, just eavesdropping I felt the urge to give him a Wh-what’s up? in reply. “Do you have a job or something? Don’t work too hard, okay?”

What an amazing display of casual concern… Man, seriously, Hayama was such a great guy.

While I was halfway to falling for him myself, Kawasaki just sighed in annoyance. “Thanks for your concern. I’m going now. Bye,” she said brusquely, pushing her bicycle as if to leave.

But then, a kind, warm, heart-melting voice called out behind her. “Hey…”

This was enough to bring even Kawasaki up short. She stopped in her tracks and turned to face Hayama. The fresh early-summer wind blew between the couple. The suddenly blossoming rom-com atmosphere prompted Yuigahama to lean forward, rapt, as she clenched her sweaty palms. Zaimokuza burned with jealousy, hatred, and murderous rage, also clenching his fists.

The invigorating wind stopped, and Hayama’s voice rang out. He seemed to be sparkling. It was as if he were radiating negative air ions or something. “You don’t have to put on that tough act, you know?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

The wheels of her bicycle rattled as they spun out, but for Hayato Hayama, time had stopped. He stood there for a full ten seconds, left in the dust with a rather embarrassed smile on his face, before he returning to our vantage from the shadows. “I think…I just got rejected.”

Silence.

“Oh, well, thanks for…” I’d thought to thank him for his trouble, but the rest of the words refused to come out. A strange feeling cascaded through the muscles in my stomach. Damn it! Calm down, abs! I tried to suppress the mounting pressure somehow, but my sides split before I could manage it.

“Pft…pfffft! GWA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA! Th-thou has been SPURNED! She rejected you! You were trying so hard to look cool, and she still rejected you! Pfffft-ha-ha-ha!”

“Stop that, Za…ah-ha-ha-ha…”

“B-both of you! Stop laughing!” Totsuka scolded, and I tried to restrain myself. Zaimokuza’s bellowing made it even funnier, though, and I couldn’t help it.

“O-oh, well, it doesn’t really bother me. It’s okay, Totsuka,” Hayama reassured, the awkward purse of his lips looking wry.

He was a good guy. He helped us out even though he wasn’t into it, and he got hurt doing it.

Perhaps even Zaimokuza was affected by Hayama’s gentlemanly attitude. He sucked in his laughter, coughed, and composed himself. “Whatever-your-name-is…Hayama…you don’t have to put on that…pfft…tough act, you know! Ha-ha-ha!”

“You jerk! Stop that, Zaimokuza! Don’t laugh at him!” Zaimokuza and I were cracking up, but Yuigahama’s face was twitching. “You guys are so horrible.”

“So this strategy has failed, too,” Yukinoshita noted. “Oh well. Let’s go to that other place tonight.”

“Yeah.”

Phew, that was fun.

This was the first time I’d ever been glad I joined the Service Club. Period.

The arms on my watch showed the time to be 8:20 PM. We were meeting up in front of Kaihin-Makuhari Station, so there I was leaning against a sculpture that, for some reason, was big, long, and pointy. Nickname: weird pointy thing. The place we were heading was on the top floor of the Hotel Royal Okura: the bar Angel’s Ladder. It was the only other business in Chiba that operated until morning and had a name starting with angel. This was probably the first and last time I’d ever go to such a fancy place.

I had a thin jacket with me that still felt unfamiliar, and I put it on again to get used to it. I’d liberated this gem from my father’s closet without asking, and I guess we had roughly the same build, because it fit me perfectly. With the jacket, I wore a black shirt with a collar, jeans, and long-nose leather shoes on my feet. Usually, I’d never dress up like this. I just didn’t really care about clothes and stuff in general. All of it aside from the jeans was my dad’s. I’d even gelled up my hair.

Outfit coordinated by: Komachi Hikigaya. I’d asked Komachi to pick out some stuff for me to try and make me look older, so she’d ransacked the house and pulled together this outfit. “You’ve got this exhausted look in your eyes like a salaryman who’s tired of life, Bro, so if you just do something about your clothes and hair, you’ll look like a grown-up.”

How was I supposed to react to a remark like that? Come on… Are my eyes that bad?

The first one to show up at our rendezvous point was Saika Totsuka. “Sorry, did I keep you waiting?”

“No, I just got here.”

Totsuka’s outfit was slightly sporty in a unisex sort of way. His cargo pants were on the loose side, and his T-shirt was slightly on the tight side. He had a fine-threaded beanie pulled back on his head, and there were headphones around his neck. The dully shining wallet chain at his hip swung every time his sneaker-clad feet moved. This was the first time I’d ever seen Totsuka out of uniform, so I stared at him, dazed.

Totsuka pulled down the beanie as if he was embarrassed for some reason in an attempt to hide his eyes. “D-don’t stare at me like that… D-do I look weird?”

“N-no, not at all! It suits you.”

It kind of felt like we were on a date, somehow, but unfortunately, we weren’t. As proof of that, Zaimokuza materialized. For some reason, he was wearing samue and had a white towel wrapped around his head like a bandanna. I ignored him.

“Hmph. I believe this was where our party was supposed to meet… Oh-ho! Is that not Hachiman?”

His obnoxious little act got on my nerves, but now that he’d found me, there was nothing I could do. “What’s with that outfit? Why are you wearing a towel on your head? Are you gonna run a ramen shop?”

He sighed. “Oh, Hachiman. Was it not you who said we should dress like adults? And so I chose the style of a working man: a samue and a towel.”

Oh, so that’s what he’d been thinking. Well, he already had it on, so there was nothing that could be done about it now. Actually, we could just leave him behind, so whatever.

I think I’d reached that conclusion right around the time I heard the click, click of Yuigahama approaching. Her eyes darting about, she pulled out her phone. Oh, so she hadn’t noticed us.

“Yuigahama.” I called out to her, and she twitched before turning timidly in my direction. Hey, wait. You were just looking at me a second ago, though.

“H-Hikki? Oh, it’s you! I didn’t recognize you for a second… Th-that outfit…”

“What? Don’t laugh.”

“N-no, that’s not it at all! Um, it’s so different from what you usually wear, it just startled me…” She ogled me, going “Whoa!” and “Ooh!” and “Ahh!” before giving me a vigorous nod. “Komachi picked this out, didn’t she?”

“Oh, so you could tell.”

“I knew it.” Yuigahama came off as if she’d somehow been convinced of something…but what? She was giving me a Piiko-esque fashion evaluation for some reason, so I decided to do the same like Don Konishi.

Yuigahama wore a tube top with a plastic bra strap over the right side; the left was off the shoulder. Apparently, she liked her heart-charm necklace a lot, as she still had it dangling from her neck. Over her top, she sported a short-sleeved denim jacket, and down below, she had on a pair of black short shorts with metal buttons. Her feet were covered by some fairly high-heeled mules with a bit that wrapped around her ankles like a vine. With every step, her anklet rattled.

“You’re kinda…not very adult-looking.”

“What? Howso?!” Yuighama seemed flustered as she scrutinized her arms and her legs. That made her look even more like a college student than her style already did.

That accounted for almost our entire party. Now just one more…and with that thought, a voice called out from behind us. “I apologize. Am I late?” Her white summer dress was vivid in the darkness. The black leggings beneath it made her slim legs look supple. Her utterly simple, tiny mules complimented her slender ankles. When she turned her wrist up to check the time, the pink face of her smallish wristwatch shone cutely against her white skin. The metal strap wrapped around that smooth wrist looked like silverwork. “So I’m right on time.” Like edelweiss blooming at night, Yukino Yukinoshita radiated a composed charm.

“Y-yeah…” Nothing else came out of me. I remembered that first time I stepped into the Service Club clubroom and how she’d overwhelmed me.

If only she had a decent personality…

“Have you ever heard of the no-waste ghost?”

“What nonsense. There’s no such thing as ghosts.” Yukinoshita immediately waved my comment aside and looked our entire entourage up and down. “Hmm…” Then, starting with Zaimokuza, she pointed to each of us in order. “Fail.”

“Muh?”

“Fail.”

“Huh?”

“Fail.”

“What?”

“Disqualified.”

“Hey…” For some reason, she was grading pass/fail, and I’d gotten a different mark from everybody else.

“I told you to wear mature clothing, didn’t I?”

“Not to dress up like adults?”

“You can’t get into the establishment we’re visiting without appropriate attire. It’s common sense that a man would wear a collared shirt and a formal jacket.”

“R-really…?” Totsuka asked, and Yukinoshita nodded.

“It’s a fairly standard policy at some of the more upscale restaurants and hotels. You should keep that in mind.”

“You sure know a lot about this.” This didn’t sound like the sort of intel your average high schooler would have at their fingertips. I mean, the only restaurants we went to were Saize and Bamiyan. The fanciest it got was Roiyaho. Anyway, the only one of us wearing a formal jacket was me. Totsuka was fairly casual, and Zaimokuza was dressed up like a ramen chef.

“M-my clothes are no good?” Yuigahama fretted, and Yukinoshita looked slightly troubled.

“The dress code isn’t so particular for women, but…if Hikigaya is the one escorting you, that might be a little sketchy.”

“Come on, come on! Lookit the jacket, the jacket!” I fluttered my jacket like Hiromi Gou in an attempt to call attention to it, but Yukinoshita only chuckled derisively.

“No matter how much you attempt to divert attention from them with your clothing, your eyes are so rotten, I doubt your ability to get in.”

Were they really that bad?

“I don’t want to have to come back a second time because we were refused service, so it might be a good idea for Yuigahama to come get changed at my place.”

“Huh? I can go to your place, Yukinon?! Let’s go, let’s go! Oh, but I’m not being a bother, coming over this late?”

“You don’t have to worry about it. I live alone.”

“You’re such a strong, independent woman!” Yuigahama’s astonishment was overdone.

Was that her standard, really? Was every woman who lived alone strong and independent? But hearing that Yukinoshita lived alone, it did make sense. She was an amazing cook, but more than anything, I couldn’t imagine her living with another human being.

“Then let’s go. It’s just over that way.” Yukinoshita turned to the skyline behind her, indicating an apartment building known for being expensive, even within the region. Since I didn’t watch TV much, I didn’t really know, but apparently, they sometimes shot commercials or TV shows there. (Fun fact: Kaihin-Makuhari was often used as a location for superhero shows, too.) Yukinoshita’s gaze was fixed near the top of the skyscraper distinguished by a pale orange light. It seemed her apartment was on one of the higher floors. Wh-whoa, is she actually bourgeoisie? I guess if she wasn’t, her parents probably wouldn’t have let their high school daughter live alone.

“I’m sorry you came all this way, Totsuka, but—”

“No, it’s okay. I got to see everyone out of uniform, and that was fun,” Totsuka said, smiling brightly. He was so cute, I didn’t want him to go yet.

“Hey, so, Yuigahama, while you’re getting changed, the three of us will go get something to eat,” I said. “When it’s over, just give me a call whenever.”

“Yeah, I will!”

We split with the pair, and the three of us guys fell silent as if gauging how hungry we were.

“So on what shall we dine?” Zaimokuza asked, rubbing his belly.

Totsuka and I looked at each other.

“Ramen, I guess.”

“Yeah, ramen.”

I parted ways with Totsuka and Zaimokuza at the ticket gates. At the ramen shop, Zaimokuza had been mistaken for staff, and people kept trying to give him orders, but he and Totsuka appeared satisfied at having been able to eat delicious ramen.

I left the station and headed for the Hotel Royal Okura. This time, I was supposed to just meet Yukinoshita and Yuigahama there.

As I approached the entrance of the hotel for a second time, its size made me hesitate. Even the pale light illuminating the building had this high-class air. It clearly wasn’t the kind of building a mere high school student could enter. But even so, heart pounding in my chest, I stepped inside. An unfamiliar feeling greeted my feet as my shoes sank into the plush, wall-to-wall carpet. Am I getting an Academy Award now or what? All the madames and dandies scattered throughout the lounge seemed somehow classy, and I also caught glimpses of a few foreigners here and there. Oh man, Makuhari was so metropolitan.

The place Yuigahama had designated in her e-mail for us to meet was in front of the elevator hall. Unlike the elevators with which I was familiar, these doors sparkled. Also, the sofa where I’d deposited myself felt rather nice. Hey, is this memory foam? And there were, like, vases and crap on display, too. As I messed around and contemplated the delightful smoosh sensation beneath me, my phone rang.

“We’re just walking in now. Are you there already?”

She said they were here, but… I glanced around.

“S-sorry to keep you waiting!” A girl who smelled kinda nice called out to me. Her crimson dress had a wide, plunging neckline that flowed down in a sort of mermaid shape. The whiteness of the back of her neck peeking from underneath her updo took my breath away. “Th-this feels like I’m dressed up for a piano recital…”

“Oh, Yuigahama. I was wondering who it was.” Her remark was so pedestrian, it finally clued me in to the fact that this was Yuigahama. Had she been breezily composed, I probably wouldn’t have recognized her.

“Couldn’t you at least say it’s like you’re dressed up for a wedding? I have mixed feelings about you comparing this to something you’d wear to a piano recital,” chastised a second voice attached to a beauty in a black dress just making her entrance. The fabric of her gown had a smooth, obsidian luster that emphasized the beauty of her pale skin like virgin snow, and the flared skirt ending above her knees showed off her long legs. Her luxurious, flowing, silken black hair was even glossier than the dress. It was tied up and loosely twisted, left to fall over her chest like jewelry. It couldn’t have been anyone but Yukino Yukinoshita.

“B-but this is the first time I’ve ever worn anything like this. And, like, seriously, Yukinon, who are you?!”

“Don’t be so dramatic. I have occasion to wear dresses from time to time, so I happen to have a few.”

“Most people wouldn’t have those sorts of occasions in the first place,” I remarked. “And, like, where do they sell stuff like that? Shimamura?”

“Shimamura? I’m unfamiliar with that brand,” she replied in all sincerity.

She doesn’t know Shimamura. I bet she doesn’t know Uniqlo, either.

“Come on, let’s go.” Yukinoshita pressed the elevator button. With a ping, the button lit up, and the doors silently opened. The car was glass-walled, and as it climbed, we could see over Tokyo Bay. The lights of cruising boats, the taillights of cars driving along the coastline, and the dazzling illumination of the high-rises colored the night view of Makuhari.

When we arrived at the top floor, the doors opened again. There was a calm, gentle light ahead of us. Splayed out in a glow so soft it was almost like candlelight, the bar lounge almost felt dark.

“Whoa…whoa, is this for real?” The scene unfolding before me clearly wasn’t meant for my eyes. On a stage, a spotlight shone down on a white woman playing jazz music. She was probably American. Foreigner = American. I made eye contact with Yuigahama as if to say, Maybe we should go back after all? She nodded swiftly and vigorously. Just having a plebe like Yuigahama here with us calmed my nerves.

But high-society Yukinoshita wouldn’t allow that. “Stop gawking.” She ground her heel into my foot.

“Ow!” I nearly cried out: What’s with those stiletto heels? Is that Ray Stinger?

“Stand up straight and push our your chest. Pull back your jaw.” Yukinoshita whispered into my ear, quietly grabbing my right elbow. Her slender, well-shaped fingers clasped my arm.

“U-um… Wh-whatever is the matter, Miss Yukinoshita?”

“Don’t get flustered over every little thing. Yuigahama, do the same thing.”

“Wh-whaa?” Yuigahama’s expression said, I don’t get this!, but she obediently followed Yukinoshita’s instructions.

“Now then, let’s go.”

Doing as I was told, I matched my pace to the girls’ and slowly began walking. We passed through the heavy-looking open wooden doors, and immediately, a male server appeared by our side, quietly bowing his head. He didn’t say a word—no How many guests? or Smoking or nonsmoking? He just took a step and a half forward to show us the bar counter at the end of the room, in front of a floor-to-ceiling window. At the bar, a female bartender was polishing glasses squeaky clean. She was slender and tall with fine facial features. She had a teardrop mole, and her expression seemed vaguely sorrowful. It suited the faintly lit establishment’s ambiance.

Wait, that’s Kawasaki.

She seemed different from how she normally was at school. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail, and she was dressed professionally in a black vest and white-collared shirt. Her movements were graceful and silent, not sluggish in the slightest. She didn’t seem to recognize us as she quietly set out coasters and then waited silently. I would have thought she’d be handing out menus and asking So what’ll it be? But I guess not. Duh.

“Kawasaki,” I called out to her softly, and she seemed rather confused.

“I apologize. To whom am I speaking?”

“She doesn’t remember you, even though you’re in the same class. Impressive, Hikigaya,” Yukinoshita said admiringly, seating herself on a stool.

“Well, you know. Our clothes are way different today. Of course she wouldn’t recognize us.” Yuigahama defended me as she sat down as well. The empty seat was the one right in between the two of them. If this were Othello, this would be my losing move. If it were Go… Well, I don’t actually know how to play Go.

“We’ve been looking for you, Kawasaki,” Yukinoshita began, and Kawasaki’s face changed color.

“Yukinoshita…” Kawasaki scrutinized her as if she were the man who’d killed her father: Her eyes filled with distinct enmity. I’d been under the impression they’d never met before, but Yukinoshita was famous at our school, after all. And with her looks and personality, it was no surprise that some people found her disagreeable.

“Good evening.” Whether she knew how Kawasaki felt about her or not, Yukinoshita gave her a composed salutation.

The pair locked eyes. Perhaps it was the light, but I felt like I could see sparks flying between them. Scary. Kawasaki’s lids suddenly narrowed, focusing their attention on Yuigahama. It was as if she was probing her, thinking, Since Yukinoshita’s from school, oh my, that means this girl must be, too, huh?

“H-hi…” Yuigahama gave a non-committal greeting after Kawasaki’s optic drubbing.

“Yuigahama, huh? I didn’t recognize you for a second there. Then is he from Soubu High, too?”

“Oh, yeah. Hikki is in our class. Hachiman Hikigaya.”

Kawasaki gave a faint bow and then smiled as if somehow resigned. “I see. So I’ve been found out.” She shrugged her shoulders, seemingly unconcerned, then leaned against the wall folding her arms. Perhaps she realized the end was nigh, so none of it mattered anymore. Reassuming the languid manner she bore at school, she heaved a shallow sigh and considered us. “Want something to drink?”

“I’ll have a Perrier,” Yukinoshita said. What? Perry? Did she just order something?

“I-I’ll have what she’s having!”

“Uh…” I’d just been thinking I’d say that…but Yuigahama got in ahead of me, and now the timing was off. Nngh. What, what should I say? Should I say Dom Perignon or Don Penguin? By the way, Don Penguin is the mascot for the palace of low, low prices. So even if I did order Don Pen, he probably wouldn’t show up.

“Hikigaya, right? What about you?”

So that Perry guy Yukinoshita mentioned was a drink, huh…? I don’t have to say Harris or Earnest Satow here, right? Then I guess I’ll go with a drink name. “I’ll have MAX Coff—”

“Get him a dry ginger ale,” Yukinoshita interrupted.

“Right away,” said Kawasaki with a wry smile as she set out three champagne glasses and poured into them with practiced hands before softly placing them on our coasters.

The three of us then silently contended with our glasses for some reason, bringing them to our lips.

“Of course they wouldn’t have MAX Coffee,” Yukinoshita said, as if she’d just remembered it.

“Seriously?! But this is Chiba!” A Chiba with no MAX Coffee is no Chiba at all, come on! It was like Yamanashi having mountains.

“We do have it, though,” Kawasaki muttered, and Yukinoshita shot her a glance. Hey, guys, seriously, why does it seem like you have some bad blood going on? You’re acting scary. “So what did you come here for? You’re not on a date with that, are you?”

“Of course not. If you’re saying that in reference to this right here, that’s in poor taste, even as a joke.”

“Um, hey, this fight is between you two, so can you not make indiscriminate digs at me while you’re at it?” “That”? “This”? Stop calling me by demonstratives. It looked like we were never gonna get anywhere if left to their own devices, so I decided to get the ball rolling. “I hear you haven’t been getting home until late recently. It’s because of this job, isn’t it? Your brother’s worried about you,” I said.

Kawasaki smiled in her usual irritating way as if scoffing at me. “You came all this way just to say that? Well, good job. Come on, did you think I’d quit because some total stranger told me to?”

“Wow, Hikki…you’re getting treated like a total stranger even though you’re in the same class…” Yuigahama picked a weird time to be impressed. But I hadn’t recognized Kawasaki, either, so we were probably even on that count.

“Oh, I’ve been wondering why everyone’s been getting on my case lately. So it was you, huh? Did Taishi say something to you? I don’t know how you know him, but I’ll talk to him myself, so you don’t have to worry about it. Stay away from him from now on.” Kawasaki was glowering at me. I guess her point was It’s none of your business, so get lost.

But something like that wasn’t enough to make Yukinoshita back down. “If you need a reason to quit, here’s a good one.” Yukinoshita’s gaze shifted from Kawasaki to the watch on her left wrist. “Ten forty… Cinderella would have a little over an hour left, but it seems your magic spell has already worn off.”

“If my spell’s worn off, doesn’t that mean there’s a happy ending waiting for me?”

“I don’t know about that, little mermaid. I think what’s waiting for you is a bad ending.”

The way the two of them sniped back and forth was much like the atmosphere of the bar: It made you hesitant to step in. Their exchange of sarcastic quips and snide remarks came off like some high society pastime. Seriously, what was with all this nastiness between them? I thought this was the first time they’d ever spoken. The whole situation terrified me.

As these thoughts crossed my mind, I felt a tap on my shoulder and a whisper at my ear. “Hey, Hikki. What are they talking about?”

Oh, Yuigahama. Having a plebe like you here really does make me feel better…

Minors working past ten PM was a violation of labor laws. If she was still working at this hour, it meant that she’d been weaving the magic that is age misrepresentation. And that spell had been undone at Yukinoshita’s hands. But even so, Kawasaki didn’t seem particularly anxious.

“You have no intention of quitting?”

“Hmm? No. And even if I did quit this place, I could just work somewhere else.” Kawasaki said nonchalantly as she polished a sake bottle with a cloth.

Perhaps that attitude irritated Yukinoshita a little, as she lightly tossed back her Perry. Or was it Harris?

The atmosphere tense and foreboding, Yuigahama timidly interjected. “U-um…Kawasaki, why are you working here? Um, like, ’cause I work when I’m broke, but I wouldn’t work so late I’d have to lie about my age…”

“No reason. I just need the money.” She put the sake bottle down with a quiet clink.

Well, of course. Most everyone works because they want the money. I’m sure there are some who work because the job is worthwhile or gives their lives meaning or whatever, but I don’t know much about that. “Oh, you know, I get that,” I said innocently, and Kawasaki’s expression turned hard.

“There’s no way you could understand. Nobody who’d write down such a bullshit career choice would.” At some point, Kawasaki and I had met on the school rooftop, and that was when she’d seen my workplace tour application form. So she did remember.

“I was serious, though.”

“Yeah, you were serious, and that means you’re still just a kid. You don’t know anything about life.” Kawasaki tossed the cloth she’d been using on the counter and leaned against the wall. “You…no, not just you—Yukinoshita and Yuigahama wouldn’t get it, either. I’m not working because I want money to party with. Don’t lump me together with those idiots.” Kawasaki’s glare was intense. It was if her eyes were roaring, saying, Don’t get in my way. But they were moist, too. Was that actually strength, though? I can’t help thinking that people who yell, No one understands me! actually do want to be understood. That cry is their lament, a sign that they’re giving up.

But look at Yukino Yukinoshita. Though no one understood her, she didn’t bemoan it; she didn’t give up. That was because, despite it all, she had this conviction that sticking to her principles is strength.

And Yui Yuigahama. She never gave up on trying to understand people. She didn’t run away from that because she hoped that maintaining contact—even superficial contact—could be a trigger for change.

“Well, but, like, sometimes people don’t understand until you talk to them about it, you know? We might be able to help you somehow… like… just talking might make you feel better…” Halfway in, Yuigahama’s voice started to falter. Kawasaki’s cold stare ripped her words apart.

“The fact that you said that only proves you guys will definitely never get it. Help me? Make me feel better? Okay then, can you get me some money? Can you take over the responsibilities my parents can’t manage?”

“W-well…” Yuigahama looked down as if embarrassed. Kawasaki was too scary!

“Just stop right there. If you keep howling at us like that…,” Yukinoshita snapped, her tone ice-cold. The way she’d trailed off just made the implied threat that much more frightening. What? What are you planning to do?

Kawasaki faltered for a moment, too, but then she clicked her tongue quietly and turned back to Yukinoshita. “Hey, your dad’s a member of the prefectural assembly, isn’t he? Someone that loaded could never understand my position.” Her voice was subdued, almost a whisper, as if resigned.

Just as those words crossed Kawasaki’s lips, I heard a glass topple over with a clatter and turned to find a champagne glass on its side with Perrier spilling out to form a puddle. Yukinoshita bit her lip, her gaze downcast and fixed to the counter. It was a look I’d hardly have expected to see on her.

Surprised, I studied her face. “Yukinoshita?”

“Huh? O-oh, sorry,” she stammered, reverting to normal—no, now she was even more frigid and expressionless than usual as she calmly wiped the table with her moistened hand towel. This peculiar insight led me to infer that this subject was taboo for her. Now that I thought about it, she’d had that same expression not so long before… When I tried to remember when that was, though, a loud slap on the counter snapped me back into the moment.

“Hey! Yukinon’s family is none of your business!” Yuigahama’s tone was unusually assertive, and she had Kawasaki in her sights. She wasn’t joking or fooling around; Yuigahama was pissed. So this is what she looks like mad…

Perhaps Yuigahama’s sudden transformation from her usual breezy, ebullient self startled Kawasaki. Or maybe she just realized she’d crossed a line, but the edge in her voice softened a bit. “Then my family is none of your business, either.”

Once she’d dropped that line, that was the end of it.

It was neither mine nor Yuigahama’s business, and it was clearly none of Yukinoshita’s. Even if Kawasaki was breaking the law, the ones who would take her to task for that would be her teachers and parents, and it was the law that would be judging her. We weren’t even her friends. We couldn’t do a single thing for her.

“You might be right, but that’s not right! Not to Yukinon.”

“Yuigahama. Calm down. I just knocked over a glass. It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Yuigahama was leaning over the counter while Yukinoshita gently restrained her. Yukinoshita’s voice was calmer than usual which just made it sound that much colder. Though it was already summer, the air felt chilly.

Well, that was it, then. It didn’t look like Yukinoshita, Yuigahama, or Kawasaki could carry on a civil conversation. But we had learned a few things. Now we just had to do something about it. “Let’s call it a day. I’m sleepy, frankly. Once I’m done with my drink, I’m gonna go.” I still had over half my ginger ale left, though.

“You’re such a—”

“C-come on, Yukinon. Let’s go home for today?”

Yukinoshita sighed in exasperation and seemed like she wanted to say something, but Yuigahama stopped her. Yuigahama and I exchanged glances, and then she gave me a slight nod. Apparently, she’d also noticed that Yukinoshita was behaving oddly.

“Fine, I’ll call it a day.” Perhaps even Yukinoshita noticed she was frazzled, as she miraculously took my suggestion. She tossed a few bills on the counter without looking at the receipt and stood. Yuigahama followed suit.

I called after Yuigahama as they walked away. “Yuigahama, I’ll e-mail you later.”

“Huh? U-uh. Oh, um, okay… I’ll be waiting, then.” Perhaps it was the indirect lighting, but Yuigahama’s face looked particularly red as she fidgeted with her hands in front of her chest before waving to me. That bearing is really incongruous with the classy vibe in here, so don’t, okay?

After watching the two of them go, I took a sip from my glass and turned back to Kawasaki, moistened my throat a little before I spoke. “Kawasaki. Meet me tomorrow morning. Five thirty at the McD’s by the school. Okay?”

“Huh? Why?” Kawasaki’s attitude was even frostier than it had been before, but I was confident that what I had to say next would change her tune.

“I want to talk to you about something. It’s about Taishi.”

“What?” The look Kawasaki gave me was now less suspicious than it was openly hostile.

I avoided meeting her eyes by downing the rest of my ginger ale and then standing. “We’ll talk about that tomorrow. See ya.”

“Hey!”

I ignored her as she called after me, attempting to make my exit from the bar with the sort of style and class a joint like this deserved.

“Hey! You didn’t pay enough!”

Hey, Yukinoshita. You didn’t pay for me?

I silently slunk back to the counter and handed her my meager thousand-yen bill. She gave me back sixty yen in change. U-uh… I couldn’t exactly ask why now, could I? One ginger ale cost me almost a thousand yen… Was there some kind of rush on ginger ale?

It was the next morning, but I hadn’t slept. I was nodding off just past five AM at the McD’s while sipping my second coffee. The sky was already bright, and sparrows were lighting on the ground, restlessly pecking at it and then flying up into the sky again.

After leaving the Hotel Royal Okura, we’d all gone home. When I got there, I asked Komachi to do a couple favors for me before heading out again to kill time here. I could have stayed at home and slept, but I wasn’t sure I could actually wake up at five.

All this effort had been exerted to stay awake with a singular purpose in mind.

“So she came…”

I heard the sound of the automatic doors opening, and Saki Kawasaki appeared, sluggishly dragging her feet. “What did you want to talk about?” she asked. Maybe she was tired, as she seemed grumpier than usual. She was so intense that, for an instant, I felt the urge to get down on my hands and knees and grovel before her, but I suppressed the impulse and acted as calm and composed as possible.

“Hey, dalm cown. I mean calm down.” I really fumbled with my words there. Pretending to be calm: gigantic fail. Kawasaki was just too scary; I couldn’t even. But perhaps my slip-up had loosened me up a little because everything came out smoothly after that. “Everyone will be here in just a bit. Give them a little longer.”

“Everyone?” Kawasaki’s expression turned doubtful as I heard the automatic doors open again, and Yukinoshita and Yuigahama made their entrance.

Immediately after we’d parted ways the night before, I’d sent Yuigahama a single e-mail saying that she should stay over at Yukinoshita’s place that night, tell her parents where she was, and then come to the McD’s by the school with Yukinoshita in the morning at five. The message had contained just those three bullets; a simple, bare bones business e-mail.

“You guys again?” Her demeanor saying she was fed up, Kawasaki sighed deeply.

But there was another grump in our midst. Yuigahama was pouting and wouldn’t look at me.

“What, has she not slept enough?” I tried asking Yukinoshita, but she seemed perplexed as well.

“Who knows? I think she did, but…actually, I feel like she’s been in a plainly foul mood since receiving your e-mail. Did you write something obscene?”

“Come on, will you stop treating me like a sex offender? And all I wrote were basic instructions to come here, so there wasn’t anything for her to get upset about.”

Yukinoshita and I swapped glances, and then Komachi hopped in between us. “Man, that’s my brother, all right! He’s got no tact when it comes to important stuff.”

“Hey, Komachi. Can you not pop up out of nowhere just to put me down?”

“Bro, people usually use errands as an excuse to talk to someone. If you’re all businesslike about it, it sounds like you don’t want to talk to them.”

“You invited your sister, too?” Yukinoshita asked, slightly surprised.

“Yeah, there’s something I wanted her to do for me. Komachi, did you bring him?”

“Yep,” Komachi chirped, pointing just a little ways off toward Taishi Kawasaki.

“Taishi…what are you doing here at this hour?” Her expression in a gray zone between anger and shock, Kawasaki glared at her little brother.

But Taishi held his ground. “At this hour? That’s what I’d like to ask you, Sis. What have you been doing all night?”

“That’s none of your business.” Kawasaki refused to engage him and tried to cut the conversation off. But while those techniques might have worked on others, they were wasted on Taishi—he was family. Up until now, Kawasaki and Taishi had always been talking one-on-one, so Kawasaki had had ample opportunities to evade him. She could do anything—end the conversation, or just walk away.

But now she couldn’t do that. The rest of us encircled the two of them, and we definitely wouldn’t let her get away. More than anything, she was restrained by the fact that it was morning and we were in public.

“It is my business. We’re family.”

“I’m saying you don’t need to know,” Kawasaki replied.

Taishi stood firm, and Kawasaki’s voice grew weaker. But even so, it was clear that she wasn’t going to talk to him. Considered from another angle, though, couldn’t that mean that all of this was something that she specifically couldn’t discuss with Taishi?

“Kawasaki, I can guess why you were working and needed money,” I said, and she glared at me. Yukinoshita and Yuigahama considered me with deep interest.

Saki Kawasaki hadn’t elaborated on why she’d gotten a job, but when you thought about it, the hints were there. She’d turned delinquent around the time she started her second year of high school, according to Taishi Kawasaki. And indeed, from his perspective, that was true. But that wasn’t how it looked from Saki Kawasaki’s vantage. From her point of view, she’d started working when her little brother entered his third year of middle school. That meant Taishi Kawasaki’s circumstances were her impetus for getting a job.

“Taishi, has anything changed since you started your third year of middle school?”

“U-um… Just that I started going to cram school, I guess?” Taishi seemed quite perplexed as he racked his brains, but that was enough for me. Perhaps Kawasaki had already guessed what I was about to say because she was biting her lip and looked frustrated.

“I see. To pay for her brother’s tuition—” Yuigahama seemed convinced, but I cut her off.

“No, Taishi was already going to his cram school in April, so that shouldn’t have been an issue. His entrance fees and tuitions would already have been paid. Their family probably took that into account beforehand. So when you think about it, that means only Taishi’s tuition got covered.”

“Indeed. You’re right; he isn’t the only one who would need money.” Apparently, Yukinoshita understood everything, as she turned sympathetically to Kawasaki.

Yes, our school, Soubu High, is higher education oriented. The majority of attendees either want to or are actually going to university. That meant more than a few students were thinking about entrance exams around this time during their second year while others were seriously considering taking summer courses. Both in preparation for as well as to actually go to college, you need money.

“Didn’t Taishi say his sister had always been the kind and serious type? Basically, that’s what’s going on,” I concluded, and Kawasaki’s shoulders slumped weakly.

“Sis… I-it’s because I’m going to cram school…”

“This is why I said you didn’t have to know.” She patted Taishi’s head as if to comfort him.

Oh-ho! Apparently, this had all wrapped up with a nice, touching conclusion. Yeah, how nice, how nice. And they all lived happily ever after. Or so I thought, but Kawasaki was biting her lip again.

“But I still can’t quit my job. I intend to go to college. I don’t want to burden Taishi or my parents with that.” Kawasaki’s tone was sharp with clear determination. Her firm resolve eradicated Taishi’s earlier assertiveness.

“Um…can I say something?” Komachi’s happy-go-lucky voice broke the silence.

Kawasaki turned her head toward my sister as if she found this tiresome. “What?” Her expression and curt tone together made her seem almost hostile.

But Komachi ignored that, smiling brightly. “Well, both of our parents have always worked, too. So when I was little, I always came home to an empty house. I’d call, ‘I’m home!’ but nobody would answer.”

“Come on, it’d be freaky if somebody did. What’s with this random story time?”

“Oh, uh-huh. You be quiet for a bit, okay, Bro?”

Totally shut down, I had no choice but to shut my mouth and listen.

“So I didn’t like going back home, and I ran away for about five days. And then who came to find me? Not my parents, but my brother. And ever since then, he’s come home earlier than me. So I’m grateful to him for that.”

I’d been thinking, Oh, this brother sounds like such a great guy, before realizing it was me. This unexpected anecdote almost brought me to tears. My intention at the time hadn’t been to keep her company. I’d just been going home early because I had no friends to hang out with and wanted to watch an anime that aired at six o’clock on TV Tokyo.

Kawasaki gave me a look reminiscent of something like empathy, and Yuigahama’s eyes were a little damp.

Only Yukinoshita shook her head. “You only went home early because that’s when you stopped having friends, isn’t that right, Hikigaya?”

“Hey, how did you know that? Are you Yukipedia or what?”

“Oh, no, I’m totally aware of that,” Komachi said with a bold nonchalance. “But I think putting it my way is worth more Komachi points.”

Yuigahama opened her mouth, her expression weary. “You are Hikki’s sister, after all.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” She must have meant that I’m cute, too. Definitely.

“So what’s your point?” Kawasaki demanded, irritated. Frankly, she was pretty terrifying, but Komachi faced her head on, her smile unbroken, as usual.

“He’s a pretty crappy brother, but still, he’ll never make me worry. And that’s enough to make me feel grateful as his little sister. I’m happy about that. Oh, and that just now was worth a lot of Komachi points, too.”

“Enough with this ‘Komachi points’ thing.”

“Nooo. It’s obviously just my way of hiding my shyness! Oh, that just there was also worth a lot of—”

“Enough, already, enough.” Good grief. This is why I can’t trust girls. My own sister spouts this stuff so casually.

When I indicated that I found her annoying, Komachi voiced her dissatisfaction with a murg. I decided not to engage with her, and she gave up and went back to talking to Kawasaki. “Well, in other words, just like you feel like you don’t want to be a burden on your family, Taishi doesn’t want to be a burden on you, you know? I think if you understood that, he’d be happy as a younger sibling.”

Kawasaki was silent. And so was I. Oh man, just what was this feeling? I’d had no idea that Komachi felt that way. She was usually a constant burden, so I hadn’t noticed at all.

“Yeah, I’m kind of like that, too,” Taishi added softly. He looked away, his face red. Kawasaki stood and softly stroked Taishi’s head. Her smiling face was very slightly softer than her usual languid expression.

But still, the issue hadn’t been resolved. All that had happened was that Saki and Taishi Kawasaki’s relationship had been mended and they were talking again. Just because you’re emotionally fulfilled doesn’t mean everything else is fine. Material wealth may be fleeting, but that doesn’t mean it’s worthless. Money and goods are necessary, after all.

Money problems are a harsh thing for high school students to deal with. You feel that all the more keenly if you even start trying to earn some pocket money with a part-time job. Then you can calculate how many hours you have to work to make the millions of yen it takes to pay tuition at a private university. It would’ve been cool if we could have handed over a million or two right there just like that, but we didn’t have that kind of money. Most importantly, though, that would have been counter to the principles of the Service Club.

At some point, Yukinoshita had said it: You don’t give someone a fish; you teach them how to fish.

So instead, I’d offer her my plan for making big money fast. “Kawasaki. Do you know about scholarships?”

The air at five thirty in the morning was still unpleasantly cold. I saw off the two retreating shapes as I yawned. They stayed a fixed distance from each other, and if one got ahead, the other slowed its pace until the first caught up. Occasionally, I could see their shoulders shaking as if they were laughing boisterously.

“Is that what siblings are like?” Yukinoshita asked with a sigh in the morning mist.

“I dunno. Doesn’t it depend on the person? They do call them ‘the closest stranger.’” There are actually times when Komachi makes me so legitimately angry that I want to punch her, and those times don’t feel like me at all. But then at another random moment, she’ll do exactly the same thing, and it fills me with feelings of love and affection. Honestly, I think maybe with siblings, they always feel distant in a way you can’t quite grasp. That’s why I think the phrase the closest stranger is oddly fitting. Even though they’re the closest, they’re a stranger, and though they’re a stranger, they’re still closest.

“The closest stranger…indeed. I understand that quite well.” Yukinoshita nodded, but then she never raised her head.

“Yukinon?” Puzzled, Yuigahama quietly peered into Yukinoshita’s face.

Yukinoshita immediately jerked her head up and gave Yuigahama a smile. “Come on, let’s go back as well. Another three hours, and it will be time for school.”

“Y-yeah…” Yuigahama’s expression said she wasn’t fully satisfied with that response, but she nodded and turned the bag over her shoulder toward her back.

I unlocked my bicycle, too. “Yeah. Komachi, wake up.” I slapped her cheeks lightly where she was sitting, nodding off on the green rock in front of the McD’s. She mumbled something mumbly and rubbed her eyes. She stood up and took swaying steps over to my bike like a ghost and then sat down on the back. She would usually still be sleeping at this time. Oh well, today I’d ride slowly along even pavement. I threw a leg over my bike and put my foot on the pedal. “I’m going home, then. See ya.”

“Yeah, I guess it isn’t see you tomorrow, huh? See you at school today.” Yuigahama waved her hand a little in front of her chest.

Yukinoshita stayed silent, watching Komachi and me with a vacant expression, but as I was about to pedal off, she said quietly, “I rather disapprove of two riding a bicycle, but…be careful not to get into another accident.”

“Yeah, see ya,” I replied and started pedaling. I was so sleep-deprived, my head wasn’t working right, and it was occupied pretty much to capacity just keeping an eye on oncoming traffic and the condition of the ground below us. My weariness meant that I’d only offered a vague, offhanded response to Yukinoshita. I guess I’d told her about that accident, then…?

I rode slowly along a route that crossed Highway 14. The oncoming wind that always got in my face on my way to school was now at my back. While waiting at the second light, a fragrant smell from a bakery at the intersection greeted me. My stomach rumbled. “Komachi, do you want me to get us some pastries?”

“What?! You dummy, Bro. What you’re supposed to do is either pretend you didn’t notice or just casually stop by the bakery without asking! I’m hungry, so I’ll go, though!!”

As she pounded her fists on my back, I turned my bike toward the bakery and started pedaling.

“Agh… You really are a crappy brother. If I knew you were gonna do this, I wouldn’t have said all that nice stuff about you.”

“Hey, that wasn’t nice stuff about me. At the end, it was just about you turning into a good girl. And plus, it was mostly made up.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Komachi admitted, and she stopped punching me. “But I really am thankful.” With that, she wrapped her arms around my waist and squeezed me tight, burying her face in my back.

“Is that worth a lot of Komachi points, too?”

“Tsk. So you could tell,” Komachi pouted, but her arms remained firmly around my waist. The cold morning wind slowly eroded our body heat. Feeling her pleasant warmth against me, sleepiness gradually took hold. I guessed I would be late again today, too. Feeling like this, I could probably have slept well once I got home. It wasn’t so bad having a friendly brother-sister late day once in a while.

“But I’m glad you got to meet, though,” Komachi said behind me.

“Huh? What’re you talking about?” My expression was probably suspicious.

Komachi couldn’t see my face, though, and she kept talking. “You know, the sweets person. You should’ve told me you already met her. Aw, isn’t that nice, Bro! Thanks to that broken bone, you got to know a cute girl like Yui.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess…” I thrust out my foot mechanically to step on the pedal. It was an almost entirely unconscious motion with no feeling in it at all. That was why the moment feelings got interjected, the action went awry. My body suddenly swayed with a jerk, and pain radiated through my shin. “Aghh!”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, what’s with that? I’ve never seen anyone miss a pedal before.” Komachi whined and complained, but this wasn’t the time.

What did she just say? Yuigahama was the sweets person?

The sweets person was neither a familiar face from chuugen using the holiday to repay a debt with candy nor the Purple Rose. It was someone from my past. The day of my high school entrance ceremony, I got into a traffic accident. On my way to school, there’d been a girl walking her dog nearby, and her dog had gotten off its leash. Then at the worst possible moment, an expensive-looking limo rolled up. I saved that dog’s life and broke a bone in the process. I was in the hospital for about three weeks starting from the first day of school, and that sealed my fate as a loner from day one of high school. The owner of the dog was this “sweets person” Komachi was talking about.

“What’s wrong, Bro?” Komachi eyed me worriedly, but all I could do was give her a vague grin. I’d been thinking a little bit about a bunch of stuff.

I laughed at myself in mild self-deprecation. “It’s nothing. Let’s get some pastries and go home,” I said, starting to pedal, but inexplicably, the pedals spun around and hit me in the shin again.