Yahari Ore no Seishun Love Come wa Machigatte Iru - Volume 3 - Chapter 2

2

Saika Totsuka’s youth romantic comedy is right, as I expected.

Twenty minutes after the teacher had handed down her tyrannical decree, I was in the parking lot, totally confused.

Yukinoshita was right. It would probably be fastest just to somehow motivate Yuigahama to come to the Service Club again. I had no particular objections to her return, personally. I’d already reset our relationship and restored the distance between us to an appropriate level. As long as I maintained that, there shouldn’t be any problems.

Okay then, so how were we going to make Yuigahama want to come back? We couldn’t just be like, Hey, bring ’er back! drop a lasso around her neck, and drag her away, and if we begged her, Please come back! then things wouldn’t be the same. What to do? I ruminated for a while.

But…I didn’t know. Should I apologize? I haven’t really done anything wrong, though.

When I used to fight with Komachi, it always ended when the guilty party was still kinda ambiguous… Maybe things would stay all nice and nebulous with this, too.

I was giving my head a vigorous scratch without much of an expression on my face when a voice caught me off guard.

“Hachiman? Oh, so it is you!” I turned around to see Saika Totsuka being his bashful self, standing against the shimmering halo of the setting sun. Just by standing there, he transformed dancing specks of dust into motes of light. He was seriously an angel.

His brilliance distracted me for a moment, but I decided to play it cool and composed. “’Sup.”

“Yeah. ’Sup!” Totsuka raised a hand in greeting as if trying to copy me. I guess the curt gesture was rather embarrassing to him, as it was accompanied by a shy giggle. Damn it, he is just too cute to handle. “Are you heading home, Hachiman?”

“Yeah. You done with tennis practice already, Totsuka?”

Still in his gym clothes, Totsuka adjusted his racket bag on his back, paused for a moment, and then shook his head. “Practice isn’t over yet, but I’ve got lessons at night…so I left a little early.”

“Lessons?”

What kind of lessons? I guess someone as cute as Totsuka could study at the Okinawa Actors School or something and become a pop idol. Okay, I’ll buy a hundred of his CDs! Then, once I get the ticket for a handshake, I’ll sell them somewhere.

“Umm, it’s tennis lessons. Since practice at the school club is only basic techniques.”

“Huh… You’re pretty serious about tennis, then.”

“I-it’s nothing that serious… It’s just…love.”

“Huh? Sorry, could you say that one more time?”

“Um…it’s nothing that serious?”

“No, the part after that.”

“…I-it’s love?”

“Okay, I heard it that time.” I pressed the X button in my heart and engraved his words into my soul. I sighed a blissful sigh.

“Hmm?” Baffled, Totsuka tilted his head.

My work was done for now. Mission complete. “Oh, sorry, Totsuka. You have lessons, right? So I guess you’re heading out. See you, then.” I gave him a light wave, threw my leg over my bicycle, and was about to start pedaling when I felt a tug at my back. I checked to see what it was, thinking my clothes must have gotten caught on something, and found Totsuka grabbing my shirt.

“U-um… My lesson…starts in the evening. So I’ve still got some time until then… It’s near the station… It’s really close on foot… Wait, no, what I mean is…do you want to go hang out for a bit?”

“Uh…”

“Well…if you’ve got the time…”

I don’t think anyone could refuse a request phrased like that. If I’d had some part-time job to go to later, I probably would have skipped it. And then things would get awkward at work, and I would end up quitting. If this were an invitation from a girl, first I’d search around the area for the people who’d won the bet against her. Even if I couldn’t find any, I’d refuse just in case, though.

But Totsuka’s a guy.

…He is a guy.

Well, he was a guy, though. What an absolute relief. When it was Totsuka, no matter how nice he was to me, he couldn’t be leading me on, I wouldn’t get carried away and confess my love, and he wouldn’t cruelly reject me and shatter my heart. Well, if I went around confessing my love or whatever to a guy, it’d shatter my reputation beyond repair.

Suffice to say, there was no reason to refuse. “I’ll go. I have nothing to do but read at home, anyway.” I really did have surprisingly little to do. It was like, I could read books, read manga, watch DVR’d anime, play video games, and when I got bored, study. It was all incredibly fun, too, which was troubling.

“Oh, great! So…so…then let’s go to the station.”

“Wanna ride the back?” I asked, lightly patting the luggage rack.

Two guys riding together isn’t that rare a sight. It’s actually fairly common. That’s why even if Totsuka were to sit down on the rack, wrap his arms tight around my waist, and say, Your back is so big, Hachiman, I wouldn’t find it the slightest bit unnatural.

But Totsuka shook his head. “I-it’s okay. I’m heavy…”

You’re obviously even lighter than a girl, though. Or so I was going to say, but I thought better of it and went with “Okay.” Totsuka didn’t really enjoy being treated like a girl.

“The station’s a little far, but let’s walk.” Totsuka smiled shyly and started off one step ahead of me. I followed him, pushing my bicycle. As we walked, he occasionally turned back to look up at me. He’d take five steps and glance, eight steps and then glance again. …Come on, you don’t have to worry like that. I’m behind you.

We rounded the corner by the park near Saize in silence and ascended the ramp to the pedestrian overpass bridge. We kept furtively sneaking peeks at each other like a middle school couple on a date, and I could never find the right moment to speak. It was a bittersweet journey. I felt like I would die from heart palpitations.

The bridge over the highway was a two-tiered structure with the road for vehicles on top and a pedestrian walkway underneath. The wind gusted through, dispersing the exhaust from tailpipes and carrying a cool breeze into the shade.

“This feels nice, huh, Hachiman?” As if he had taken the wind as his signal, Totsuka stopped five steps above me and looked back. His beaming smile was so appropriate for the summer season that I wanted to snap a picture and save it as a jpeg.

“Yeah. This is perfect for napping.”

“You sleep so much during breaks, Hachiman. Haven’t you slept enough?” Totsuka asked, giggling.

It’s not about fatigue, though. I just don’t have anyone to talk to or anything to do during breaks, so I figure I’ll just sleep. That’s all. “They have a custom of napping in Spain called siestas, you know. They rest in the middle of the day to relieve sleepiness and exhaustion, increasing efficiency during the afternoon. Apparently, businesses just schedule it in like it’s a normal thing.”

“Wow…so you’ve put a lot of thought into why you’re napping, huh?”

“Uh, well, I—I guess.”

Of course, I hadn’t at all, and I’d just rattled off something that sounded like I had. I couldn’t believe he bought it so easily. It threw me off a bit… I couldn’t quite tell if Totsuka trusted me or if he was just gullible. Probably the latter. I was worried one day a bad man would come along and con him. I had to protect Totsuka!

The pedestrian bridge let out right near the station. We proceeded straight down the road at our usual pace. Right about when the station came into view, Totsuka’s pace slackened. He seemed undecided as to which way to go.

“So where are we going?” I asked.

“Um…somewhere we can decompress for a little while.”

“…Are you stressed?” I wondered why I suddenly felt so guilty… Oh yeah, there was that little incident around the time we first got the family cat. We gave him too much attention, and he started getting bald spots… Maybe that was why our cat still didn’t like me. Pets and other cute companions get stressed out if you’re overattentive. I’d have to be more careful with Totsuka.

“Uh, um, it’s not for me…”

“I don’t really know,” I replied, “but maybe karaoke or an arcade or something.”

“Which would you rather do?” Totsuka asked, unable to choose.

I considered for a moment. Karaoke and arcades are both pretty good for letting off steam. It’s nice to silently input a string of songs alone and break into a light sweat as you sing your heart out. But once you’ve finished about five, both your throat and your spirit are worn out, and then when the staff brings your drink order, it’s incredibly awkward. And then once that’s over, you get assailed by the brutal sense of What am I doing…?

And then there’s arcades. They’re effective de-stressing spots. Well, except for how the regulars monopolize the fighting games, and if some peasant dares to join, the more experienced players just obliterate them. The quiz games are kinda fun. Recently, online play has become the default, so you can even do nationwide tournaments. It’s really nice to mutter to yourself, Heh, ignorant fools! as you rise through the rankings. And then you lose yourself in a game of Shanghai and try to conquer the Great Wall of China, and before you know it, three hours have passed, and you’ve wasted your time in the best way possible. That same What am I doing…? feeling afterward is marvelous.

Problem is, whichever path you choose, you wind up asking yourself, “What am I doing…?”

In a dilemma reminiscent of Dotch Cooking Show, I was compelled to make a final decision: karaoke or the arcade. But this was Chiba, so as you would expect, there was a solution for times like these.

“Well, if we go to Mu Continent, they have both,” I suggested. I guess you could call the Mu a sort of general amusement facility. Besides karaoke and arcade games, they also had bowling, billiards, and even a bar. But since it was always full of people, there were some skeevy types, too, so you had to watch out for yourself.

“Okay… Let’s go to the Mu, then,” Totsuka replied.

Thus invited, I pushed my bicycle through the station roundabout and parked it in the Mu bicycle racks. We took the elevator to the top and decided to wander around the arcade first. The moment we set foot in the hall, we were instantly inundated with the sounds of the new world unfurling before us: flashing lights, rising tobacco smoke, and laughter that refused to disappear into the din. In front of us was the crane game corner. I saw a couple screeching and squealing to each other as they manipulated the claw, and I instantly wanted to leave. Damn it, where’s a delinquent when you need one? Please come beat these guys up. And after that, all of you please get arrested and tear each other apart.

The guy was apparently having a hard time, because he convinced the staff to move the stuffed animal he was aiming for. Lately, I hear they’ll even catch it for you. Kids these days have it so easy… Totsuka and I slipped by them and headed to the video game corner.

“Oh, wow…” Totsuka gushed. I was used to this landscape, but apparently, it was new for him. In front of us were the fighting games, in the back were the table machines for puzzle games and mah-jongg, and in between them were the shooters. To the right was the arcade for collectible card games. Among all these options, the card machines seemed to have the biggest crowd. The fighting games and mah-jongg were somewhere in the middle, and the quiz machines were sparsely populated. The ones you had to watch out for were the shooters and the puzzle games. Sometimes some ghostlike guy would materialize out of the ether and hammer out some crazy high score and draw a loose crowd of onlookers.

“What do you usually play, Hachiman?”

“Me? Quiz games and Shanghai, I guess.” Of course I didn’t say strip mah-jongg. Anyway, quiz games were a safe choice if we wanted something to play together. My perennial favorite, Magic Academy, was right beside the fighting game enclave. “Over here, Totsuka!” It was loud in the arcade, so I waved, too.

Totsuka nodded, curled his fingers into the hem of my shirt, and followed me. Um… It seems to be Totsuka’s first time here, so I guess he just has to do that to avoid getting lost. Yeah, there’s nothing abnormal about it. It’s extremely natural. Super-natural.

As we slid by the fighting game enclave, I caught sight of a familiar coat. Its owner had crossed his arms arrogantly, wrist weights peeking out of his sleeves, and his samurai-style topknot swayed with each contrived chuckle from his lips. He and a few others were watching someone playing a round, occasionally whispering to each other.

“Um, Hachiman… Is that Zaimo—?”

“Nope.” I cut Totsuka off as he questioned me with a silent Huh?

The figure in the coat was indeed familiar. But he was no acquaintance of mine. The guy I knew couldn’t pull off fun social interactions like that. I mean, he had no friends.

“You think? It seems like Zaimokuza to me, though…”

“Ah, no, Totsuka, don’t say his name…”

“Oh-ho? I hear a voice calling me… U-u-u-unbelievable! ’Tis Hachiman!”

He noticed us.

Sensitivity to the sound of one’s name is a special trait of loners. Because the loner does not often hear his name, he reacts dramatically in the rare event the word is uttered. Source: me. I get so startled my reaction is completely ridiculous, like Y-yeeeks! It’s so bad that when I ride the Sobu line and the announcer says, “Next stop, Ichigaya,” I have to stop myself from replying.

“To think we would meet in a place such as this! Why are you here? This place is a battlefield… Only those who have steeled themselves for battle might set foot here.”

“Uh, Totsuka invited me, that’s all.” I did not play along with Zaimokuza’s obnoxious little act. Or rather, I just ignored it.

Zaimokuza’s face fell slightly. You’re not cute, okay? “So, Hachiman, what quest brought you here?”

“Oh, we just came to hang out.”

“What?! Wait. Master Totsuka is with you?” Zaimokuza’s eyes flared in exaggerated surprise and landed on Totsuka.

Totsuka twitched and hid behind me. “Y-yeah…”

“Oh-ho. Wait one moment.” Zaimokuza ran off at a trot, a questionable smirk on his face. Apparently, he was going to say good-bye to the people he’d been chatting with. In less than five minutes, he was back, chortling bizarrely. “Now then, let us sally forth.”

“Uh, you’re not invited… At all.”

Zaimokuza had decided at some point that we were a trio and must have been too exhausted to hear my gentle protests. His shoulders heaved as he wiped his sweat with a sleeve.

“Hey, Zaimokuza, was that guy your friend?”

“Nay. He is an Arcanabro.”

“No, I’m not asking for his nick.”

“Hum? ’Tis no nickname. That would be ‘Ash the Hound Dog.’”

“Lame…”

“It comes from this one time where after KO’ing his foe in Tekken, the loser freaked out at him, kicked and punched the machine, and flung an ashtray at him, but he made this great catch, which just made the guy hate him even more. And then he got beat up. He’s a regular here at the Mu. I know not his real name because everyone calls him Ash.”

“Oh, I see…” Wow. That was probably the most useless piece of information I have ever learned. I can’t think of a single instance where I would ever need to know the Origin of Ash.

“Then what’s an Arcanabro?” Totsuka asked the very question lurking in my mind.

And also, Zaimokuza, don’t just assume that I understand your specialized vocabulary. I didn’t really want to know everything about it, so I wasn’t about to ask myself, though.

“Well, it means people who are into the same game,” Zaimokuza replied. “You use it for both game titles and geographical regions. For example, among Arcanabros, the Chibabros in particular are garbage. Sorta like that.”

The Chibabros are trash? But I love you, Chibabros. Mostly the Chiba part.

“Hmm, so are you friends?” I asked.

“Nay, we are Arcanabros.”

“Does that not mean you’re friends…?” Talking with Zaimokuza was draining. We were both Japanese, so why did he not seem to understand the words coming out of my mouth? And what language was Arcanabro from? I guess the bro part meant they were supposed to be like some kind of family? Well, I guess all that mattered was that the term referred to a group of people.

Zaimokuza contemplated my question for a bit. “Hmm, I know not. When we meet, we converse, and we commune via IM. We venture beyond the prefecture together on trips, but…I know not their real names or what they do, either, because we discuss naught but games and anime. H-hey, are Ash and I friends?”

“That’s what I’m asking you… Did they never teach you in school not to answer a question with another question?”

“Ngh, it feels more right to say they are not friends, but rather fighting-game comrades. That is a more reliable term than friend, in my opinion.”

“‘Fighting-game comrades,’ huh…? That makes sense. It’s nice.” I sort of like that expression. It removes all the ambiguity of the word friends. Quite often things make more sense if you describe them in terms of functions rather than definitions. For example, marriage makes more sense if you express it not in terms of love and romance but as a relationship of mutual benefit, or having an ATM or doing it for appearances or because you want kids. Wow, an ATM, though. That’s harsh, man.

“Indeed. Basically, this means that you and I are gym class pairbros.”

“Uh…I see.” I didn’t particularly care for that profoundly lame way of putting it. Basically, he was saying that among Soubu High bros, the gym class bros in particular were garbage. But the pronouncement clarified that Zaimokuza and I were not friends, at least, so that was good. If we were gym class pairbros, well, there you had it.

“Then, Hachiman,” said Totsuka, “if I’m paired with you in gym class, then I’ll be a gym class pairbro, too!”

“Huh? I—I see…” So I wasn’t friends with Totsuka… I’m shocked.

But hold on a second here. If we’re not friends, then there’s still a chance that we’re lovers. Great! No, wait, that’s not great.

“It’s kind of amazing you can get to know more people through video games, though,” Totsuka continued.

“Hmm. Y-you think?” Totsuka’s comment startled Zaimokuza.

“Yeah, I agree, it’s amazing,” I said. “I thought gaming was a more solitary thing.”

“Nay, ’tis not. With fighting games there is this national team tournament we call ‘the Melee.’ Things get quite intense. Once, a band of warriors fought together for their very ill comrade and emerged victorious. It was so touching, it sent the entire venue into an uproar. It even brought a tear to mine eye.”

“That’s almost like Koshien,” I remarked. Huh… Surprising as it is, Zaimokuza has his own brand of community.

“Wow, that’s so amazing…” Totsuka gushed and clapped his hands.

Then Zaimokuza really started to get carried away. Babbling on and on about your own area of expertise is a bad habit us loners have. “’Tis indeed so! Games are marvelous wonders, and not just fighting games. First, comrades unite to bring them into being, and then even more come to enjoy them, and then from that group of fans are born the creators of the next generation. Such a beautiful circle of gaming, is it not? I intend to one day be one of those creators.”

“Huh?” said Totsuka. “Are you going to make video games, Zaimokuza? Wow!”

“Eh…ehum! Mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”

Uhh…huh? “What happened to your dream of becoming a light-novel writer?”

“Oh, that. I gave up,” he declared without missing a beat.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” I asked.

“Hmph, because a light-novel writer is self-employed, after all. There’s no job security, and you know not how many years you can carry on. And most important, if you don’t write, you cannot earn money. ’Tis rough. But employment at a game company is enough to receive a salary!”

“You’re so pathetic, I’m actually impressed…”

“Feh! I don’t want to hear that from you, Hachiman!”

Well, of course. His plan was one of a similar ilk as becoming a househusband to escape work. “But you don’t have the skills to make games.”

“Hrrm. That is why I shall write the script. That way, I can well employ my ideas and literary talents. I’ll have a stable income and make what I want, with the company’s money!”

“I—I see… Good luck with that…” I really didn’t care anymore. I was an idiot for taking his dreams for the future seriously, even for a moment.

“Anyway, Hachiman, you came to divert yourself here, right? This is my domain, so I shall show you about to your heart’s content. Is there naught you’re keen to play?” Apparently, Zaimokuza figured this was a good time to take the initiative, as he was brimming with gusto. There was no point in a tour, though. A quick look around was enough to see what was available, so the gesture was laughably unnecessary.

“Oh, I want to do the purikura.” Totsuka, who had been scanning the arcade like me, was pointing to the little photo booths in the far back on the left. “Do you…want to take some pictures over there, Hachiman?”

“Why…? I mean, there’s a sign that says the area is only for girls and couples.” The photo booth corner was a no-boys-allowed area. Only groups of girls or couples were allowed in. What discrimination. A modern-day apartheid. The UN needs to rectify this posthaste.

So there we were, a group of three boys. We fulfilled exactly none of the requirements.

“Y-yeah, but…we could sneak in. Or…is that really bad?”

“Well, not exactly…” If he was gonna ask me like that, refusing might be harder than smuggling ourselves in.

“Mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha! Worry not, Hachiman. I told you, this is my territory. You shall pass, if you are with me.”

“What? You can do that? Wow, you’re amazing. I guess you’re an old hand at this, so I’ll just let you handle everything.” Apparently, his regular haunting of this arcade had borne fruit. It was kind of cool that the staff all recognized him. I’d expected nothing less of the great Zaimokuza.

“Leave it to me and follow my lead,” Zaimokuza declared, and with him at the vanguard, we proceeded toward the purikura corner. His grand and stately carriage overflowed with confidence, alleviating us of any lingering unease. He advanced with a dignity that warranted the term majestic. I’d expected nothing less of the great Zaimokuza.

We neared the counter in front of the photo booths.

“Hey, what are you kids doing? You can’t go in with an all-boys group!”

“Ngrk! Uh, um. S-sorry…” As the nine-to-one odds had predicted, the oddly casual arcade staff member blocked us decisively. I’d expected nothing less of the great Zaimokuza.

“I knew it…”

“…Ah-ha-ha, oh well.” 

This outcome had been quite foreseeable, and so, not particularly surprised, Totsuka and I exchanged a glance.

But a moment later, a miracle occurred. “Sorry about that. It’s okay, go on through.” The arcade guy indifferently prodded Zaimokuza away from the booths and opened up the way for us. Zaimokuza was as docile as a cat picked up by the scruff of his neck as he was dragged away.

“…I—I wonder why?” Totsuka blinked his big eyes in confusion, but the reason for our admittance was unquestionably his appearance.

“…Who knows? Anyway, we’re in, so let’s go.”

“Y-yeah…” Though Totsuka didn’t look quite convinced, he followed me in.

Inside the photo booth area was a wide variety of machines. Frankly, every last one of them was covered in sparkles and hearts and words like beauty, flower, butterfly, or style and radiating a vibe like something out of Tokyo’s red-light district. The curtains and the bodies of the units hosted photos, too, like sample images or something. All the subjects looked like models, and they all had exactly the same face. Seriously scary stuff. Why do these teenyboppers all have the same facial structure? I can’t tell them apart except by their hair or clothing. Is this like real-life same-face syndrome or what?

“Whoa… They all look like hoes…” These images made even Miura seem modest and demure, never mind Yuigahama. I guess this was what they meant by a world unknown to you. Seriously scary stuff.

“Hmm, maybe this one? Are you okay with this one, Hachiman?”

“…Oh, sure.” Suddenly, they all seemed perfect.

We entered the booth, and Totsuka turned his full attention to reading the instructions. “Um, ’kay. Choose a background… Yeah, looks like this will work,” he said, and he pulled my hand, taking a few steps backward.

“H-huh? What, is it starting? What do we do now? Agh, I can’t see!”

Suddenly, the flash went off. Oh, so Tien Shinhan isn’t the only one who can use Solar Flare. So both Goku and Purikura can use it, too?

“One more time!” chimed the dopey electronic voice, and my retinas burned a few more times. We’re borrowing your move, Tien Shinhan! 

“Aaaall done! Go outside the booth and decorate your photos!”

“Decorating, huh…?” said Totsuka. “I wonder what we should draw.” We pulled back the booth curtains and went over to the drawing station. A countdown on the screen ticked down the time we had left for embellishments. “‘Confirm that this is your picture’… Okay…” Totsuka opened the photo, and it popped up onto the screen. “Wh-whoa! Is that a ghost in the photo?!” He was so surprised that he grabbed my arm.

Whoa, y-you startled me there. Calming my racing heart, I peered at this so-called ghost photo, and indeed there was part of a man’s vengeful countenance in the frame.

Wait, that was Zaimokuza.

We drew back the curtains in search of him, and there he was crouching underneath.

“Oh, so it was you, Zaimokuza.” Totsuka sighed in relief.

“What are you doing…?” I asked.

“Heh-hem. I infiltrated the premises on my hands and knees that I might not be noticed. And you seemed so intimate with Master Totsuka, I thought I’d ruin your pictures by photobombing them! How do you like that?! I have turned your beloved photos into nothing more than a disappointment!”

“Hey, doesn’t saying that about yourself make you feel sad?”

“…Heh, I overcame that paltry level of sadness back during the photo sales from the class field trip. Girls cried just because I was in their pictures.”

Whoa, he’s got some serious emotional land mines… “Oh. Um, well. S-sorry, Zaimokuza.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Zaimokuza said, but he was quietly wiping tears from the corners of his eyes.

It wasn’t his fault, though. Blame whoever decided to sell the photos in the first place. “That photo sale causes nothing but misery, anyway. They should cancel the whole system. Sometimes when you secretly buy a photo of a girl you like, everyone finds out, and then they treat you like a creep.”

“…Th-that’s creepy even to me,” Zaimokuza remarked.

“H-Hachiman…w-we’ll take lots of photos together from now on, okay? I’ll try to be with you as much as I can.” Totsuka swiftly swooped in to make me feel better.

I-is it that weird…? I thought it was fairly normal for a middle schooler, though…

Meanwhile, the drawing timer ran out, and the photos got printed.

“We look so pale…” said Totsuka.

“The filters really are impressive…,” I replied.

“They are. But seeing you sparkle like that is fearsome indeed,” commented Zaimokuza. “You’re glittering so valiantly, and yet your eyes alone are polluted and foul…”

Well, the photo seemed to be a lesson in how excessive light would wash out a subject. The extreme flash turned even the photobombing Zaimokuza a fair white. Totsuka in particular looked like a prettier girl than any actual female could dream of becoming.

“Okay, here you go. This is yours, Hachiman.” Totsuka deftly cut the photos apart and handed them to us. “And for you, too, Zaimokuza.”

“F-fwaa? I—I can have these?”

“Hmm? Yeah.” The smile on Totsuka’s face sparkled even brighter than the photo booth flash.

Zaimokuza’s response was a teary one. “Er-hem. Th-then I shall accept.” He received the photos with the utmost care, gazing at them with pleasure.

I looked at the glossy little papers in my hands as well. Apparently, Totsuka had only barely squeaked in a few embellishments before the drawing time ran out, because only three of the photos had any writing on them. One of the photos read Gym class pairbros in Totsuka’s slightly rounded characters. I guess he liked that title… 

There was another one that said Best friends!

“Hmph. That description does not suit Hachiman and myself, though,” said Zaimokuza.

“No, it doesn’t,” I agreed.

“Really?” Totsuka tilted his head quizzically. “It seems like it would.”

“Actually, I’m really more of a Ribbon kind of guy,” I said.

“Indeed. Kodocha is particularly superb,” replied Zaimokuza.

“Yeah, the ending of the manga really gets you.”

“What? The anime is clearly superior.”

Zaimokuza and I both clicked our tongues and exchanged fiery glares.

“What’d you just say?” I demanded.

“You heard me.”

While we were busy with our staring contest and preparing for imminent war, Totsuka giggled. “You really are best friends.”

“Yeah, no…”

“Ba-humph! Agreed.”

“Well, whatever. Totsuka’s got this really cute smile on his face right now, so I’ll forgive you. Listen, I’m bringing the manga on Monday, so you’d better read it and then write me an apology.”

“Hmph. Then I shall bring the DVDs, too, so prepare thyself to write a report on that.” Zaimokuza turned away with a snort and slipped the tiny photo in his hand into his wallet. “Ugh, if you hadn’t caused such ado, Hachiman, we would have had the time to draw on the photos. We only got to do two. You’d better choose volleyball for gym next month in atonement for your sins. If you don’t, I’ll end up alone.”

“Uh, I don’t want to do running, and I planned to pick volleyball anyway. Wait…two?” Was that right? I was about to check when I sensed a tug at the cuff of my shirt.

I found Totsuka going “Shh!” with a finger to his lips. He quietly uncurled his fingers to reveal the last photo with writing on it. It said Hachiman and Saika. It was a little embarrassing. Actually, it was too much for me to handle. Zaimokuza has got to be jealous over this right now.

“Oh, it’s late already. I have to get going,” said Totsuka.

“Right, your lessons.” Oh yeah. He came here to kill time before his lessons. I felt kinda bad, considering how this hadn’t done much to cheer him up.

“Then I’m gonna head out. It looks like you’re feeling better.”

“Huh?”

“Because you’ve been down lately. I wanted to cheer you up.”

“Totsuka…” Now that he mentioned it, I seemed to remember Komachi saying the same thing this morning. My little sister is weird in general, so I didn’t really pay attention, but Totsuka has common sense, so if he was saying the same thing, it was cause for concern.

“I don’t really know what happened, but…I like it best when you’re your normal self, Hachiman.” Totsuka checked the time on his cell phone, said, “Bye, let’s hang out again later!” and dashed off. Right before he vanished from sight, he spun around and gave me a big wave. I raised my hand up high as well in reply.

“Hmph. Master Totsuka is so kind, even though there’s no value in being nice to you.”

“Huh? What was that? You were still there? And I don’t want to hear that from you.”

“Ba-humph. I would expect nothing less from my comrade Master Totsuka. He’s worthy of admiration.”

“…Do you think you and Totsuka are friends?”

“Huh? W-we’re not…?”

“I don’t know. Don’t freak out just because I suggested it.” Zaimokuza’s really been breaking character a lot lately. Is he okay?

“Oh, hey! What’re you doing? You can’t be in there, you know!” came the informal and stupid-sounding call of the arcade guy.

“Ngh, alas, I must withdraw! Farewell! Mon dieu!”

“I don’t think that means what you think it means…” 

After that imbecilic exchange, Zaimokuza and I fled the scene. From the corner of my eye, I could see the staff hemming in Zaimokuza.

Totsuka was right. Brooding and stressing wasn’t very like Hachiman Hikigaya. My style had always been to just give up on anything bad enough to stress over. Don’t hesitate. Just act like nothing happened. Changing your attitude only when there’s some incident is insincere and wrong.

Before I got on my bicycle, I slipped the glossy paper in my hand into my wallet. I’d buy a frame or something and set it out somewhere.