Yahari Ore no Seishun Love Come wa Machigatte Iru - Volume 5 - Chapter 1

1

All of a sudden, the tranquility of the Hikigaya household collapses.

Sprawled out atop the wooden floorboards, I clacked away on the laptop. The independent research project was almost done. I just had to format it, and it would be complete.

Not that the project was mine. My high school had only assigned me a measly few math problems, and I finished those off quickly enough just by copying down the answers. It’s fine. I’m aiming for a private arts college; I don’t need math.

Anyway, this project was for my little sister, Komachi.

As for the girl in question, she was curled up beside me to recoup her energy after studying for her high school entrance exams. She was playing with our cat, Kamakura, gently tossing him up like a baby and smooshing his toe beans and stuff.

Why you little… And I’m doing all this work for you… Why don’t I smoosh your toe beans, too?!

Well, I did want her to focus on her entrance exams, so this one was on the house, at least. Common sense would dictate that such an assignment is pointless unless the assignee does it herself—and common sense would be right—but when it comes to my sister, conventional wisdom is obsolete.

Ethics and logic don’t amount to much here: You write the character for “younger sister” by combining the radicals for “woman” and “not yet.”

In other words, she is a woman whose future has just begun, and ultimately, she is also the last among her kin: She is the alpha and omega. She is the origin and yet the ultimate. You could even call her the final form of femininity. And her position as the pinnacle of womankind cements the little sister’s rank as first or second among all living beings, and no way could I oppose one of those. And thus, I prove the theory of little sister supremacy.

Anyway, that was why I was responsible for the majority of Komachi’s independent research project.…But really, why am I doing this? Oh, of course. Perhaps the art of using people and cultivating social connections for personal gain is also a part of her studies.

These thoughts and others floated through my head as my fingers moved across the keyboard, finishing off the inane report on a pleasant note. All right, now all I have to do is sign it with Komachi Hikigaya’s name. I gave the enter key a good SLAM to save the file and then pushed the whole laptop over toward Komachi.

“I finished your project. Be sure to check it over.”

“Okay.” Komachi rolled and lolled over the floor until she was beside me. She looked at the screen, bobbing her head with a periodic mm-hmm, mm-hmm, but then she froze mid-nod. “Bro,” she began slowly. Her voice was lower in pitch than I’d ever heard it, but the grin on her face was terrifyingly radiant. “What is this?” she asked.

Her question triggered a primeval anxiety in me. “U-um…I was trying to make it Komachi-like…,” I replied.

Her shoulders trembled. “Komachi-like? So this is what you think of me… I’m in shock! Total shock!” She groaned and clutched her head and started rolling around on the floor. It was cute enough that I watched her antics for a while, but then she leaped to her feet and jabbed an aggressive finger at me. “Wait, it’s not Komachi-like at all, though! Those last two bits were all you!”

I see; so that was a no-go after all. Yeah, I had a feeling it wouldn’t work. Wait, does that mean the first half was comparatively believable for Komachi? That’s even more surprising. “Fine, I’ll do it over,” I said. “Just gotta get it done, right? Yeah, yeah, I’ll take care of it. It’s not even my job, but I’ll shut up and do it.”

“Hey! Don’t give me that half-assed attitude! You sound like some low-ranking office drone!” Komachi was hopping mad, hands on her hips. But after a long-suffering sigh, she groaned with an apologetic expression. “…Well, it was my homework in the first place, so I’ll take it from here. Thanks for doing this much.”

Her good attitude about it made me wish I’d done a proper job, too. No matter how annoying the project was, once I accepted it, maybe I should have done it properly, I thought uncharacteristically. “Well, actually…,” I said, “I kinda stopped caring at the end and just wrote whatever… I’m sorry, though. I’ll do my best to help you.”

The moment I said that, Komachi’s eyes lit up like those of a yamapikaryaa. That’s what we call Iriomote wildcats around here. Yamapikaryaa!

“I thought you would say that!” she exclaimed. “This is why I love you, Bro!”

“Yeah, yeah. I love, love, really love, super love you, too,” I replied casually. Her usual Komachi points were exploding everywhere, and I was slightly fed up with it. Well, I had already done the research, so I could write the conclusion, at least.

As I gave her the rundown on the project, the cat padded over to us and apathetically plopped himself down in front of the monitor. Why do cats always stand in front of TVs and climb on top of newspapers?

“Komachi,” I said.

“Roger!” She saluted and began executing her stratagem to relocate Kamakura. She seized him in her arms, and the cat wriggled in an attempt to escape. In Japanese, cat hair is an idiom that describes any fine, soft hair, and of course a real cat’s hair is silky. But when Komachi swiftly began skritching his neck, he let his guard down and allowed her to continue into a full-on petting session. Utterly cheerful, Komachi hummed as she carefully stroked him from head to tail.

“Heh-heh-heh!” she chuckled. “What a bad little boy you are, coming to bother us!  ”

“In cat years, he’s already middle-aged, though.” What age is he again? It’s been four or five years since we got him… Well, that’s life. In human years, he’d probably be around Miss Hiratsuka’s age. I should introduce them.

Finally free to start on my own stuff, I handed the project materials to Komachi. The time was nearly eleven AM, and I had to get ready for my summer class in the afternoon. I got changed into whatever was closest, and that’s when the doorbell rang. Oh, is it Amazon coming again to deliver after they missed me the last time? It’s uncanny how they show up whenever I’m not around. Like, are you ninjas or something?

When I opened the front door all ready to sign for my package, I found an unexpected visitor.

“Y-yahallo!” With her bleached-brown bun, summery clothes, and a large carrier in both hands, Yui Yuigahama was idly yet self-consciously waiting.

“H-hey…,” I replied. This was so unexpected, I didn’t quite know how to respond. Neither did she, and an awkward silence ensued. The only people who ever came to our door were the delivery guy and the lady next door who drops off notices from the neighborhood association, so I couldn’t believe that someone from school had actually stepped into my private domain. An analogy would be like seeing a gazelle at the aquarium. Gazelles are only supposed to show up on the savanna, at zoos, or in Kinnikuman Nisei.

Tightly grasping the open door, I feigned composure and asked, “Did you need something?”

This would be the second time Yuigahama had visited my house. The first time was after the traffic accident I’ve mentioned previously, when she came to say thank you. I didn’t meet her in person back then, though.

“U-um…is Komachi here?” she asked.

My sister must have invited her over for something. “Komachi, dear! Your friend is here!” I called in my best mom-voice.

Komachi pitter-pattered down the stairs to us. Sometime since I’d seen her last, she had changed her entire outfit. Weren’t you wearing nothing but a T-shirt a second ago?

“Yui, hello!” she said. “Come in, come in! Please, make yourself at home.”

“Yeah, thanks! W-well. Sorry to intrude…” Despite announcing her intent to come in, though, Yuigahama seemed a little hesitant. She quietly took a breath as if to steel herself and then stepped up into the house. Come on, it’s not like it’s a major dungeon.

Once inside, Yuigahama glanced about curiously. Stop that. You don’t have to touch the wooden carved bear or anything.

A stranger’s house is a mystery zone, an outer zone, a twilight zone. You get culture shock when you enter another way of life, right? Yuigahama was taking in everything, even the totally ordinary stuff like the stairs, windows, and walls. With every glance, she mumbled “Huh…” or “Whoa…” It was mildly irritating.

Even after she was escorted to the living room on the second floor, she did not settle down, and her gaze darted all over. But when it hit the bookshelf, she stopped and stared at it. She slid her finger along the surface, a little taken aback. “Whoa, it’s stacked with books.”

“My dad and brother both like reading, so we’re always collecting more,” Komachi replied from the kitchen counter.

I didn’t feel like we had so many, but Yuigahama didn’t exactly strike me as a bibliophile…

It’s extremely rare for a guest to visit our house. Our family is as modern as it gets: Both our parents work, so we don’t really get to know anyone nearby. When I run into the neighbors on the street, I’ll give them a bow, at least, but I know basically nothing about them beyond their names.

Which means I have no idea what the protocol is when you have a guest. I guess I’m nothing but a rude and brash fool. I might even end up spilling ashes all over the mortuary tablet at my dad’s funeral. Aw, shucks, that makes me sound like some major historical figure. This is totally irrelevant, but people who get all self-important and start going on about how “Edison got bad grades in school!” never seem to have any other skills, either. The more you know.

I pulled out a chair and offered it to Yuigahama to silently suggest Why don’t you take a seat? I’m not used to this, so I can’t help being terse. I’m like some boy from the sticks handing an umbrella to a city girl in the middle of the rain. I might even follow it up with “Haven’t you heard? You’re living in a haunted house!”

“Th-thanks.” Yuigahama gracefully sat down, and Komachi came back from the kitchen, setting a cup on the table before her with a tap. The ice in the barley tea clinked.

“So, what are you here for?” I asked. I had no idea why Yuigahama would come here.

Yuigahama indicated the large carrier she clasped carefully on her lap. “Um, it’s about Sablé. I asked Komachi to help me out with him,” she said, and then she opened the box.

A creature of indescribable and profane fuzziness leaped out, crawling in my direction, its chaos embodied in brown fur, round eyes, short legs, and a little waggy tail. In another age, it would have been the most noble of animals: the dog.

Yuigahama’s pet, Sablé, locked onto me and hurtled forward. Am I Frisky Mon Petit or what? The dog was booking it straight for me with everything he had, and he did not stop.

Sablé uses Tackle! It’s super effective! Hachiman fainted!

He knocked me down hard, and I peeled the dog off as he continued slobbering all over me. I raised him up, but I could see his tail was still vigorously wiggling.

“What’s with this dog?” I asked. “Wait. Has its fur gotten shorter?” I got the impression he’d gotten one size smaller since I’d seen him two months ago. Had he been using the Beast Spear, then, or something?

“Oh yeah,” said Yuigahama. “Sablé is long-haired, so we got him a summer cut.”

“Uh-huh…” Well, he can get a somersault or an uppercut or a spinning pile driver if he wants. “So why’d you bring your doggy here?”

Even after I released Sablé, he wheeled around and around my ankles, refusing to go away. He was so stubborn, I didn’t know what to do. Woof, woof, wa-woof. I shot Yuigahama a look that pleaded, Come on, do something.

“Sablé, come here,” she called to him, and when he went over to her, she scooped him up and began gently petting him as she continued speaking. “My family is going on a vacation together.”

A family vacation, huh…? There’s a term loaded with nostalgia. I never thought I’d hear about those in high school, but I suppose I didn’t have anyone to talk to about it in the first place, anyway, no, sir. “Your family sounds close,” I said. “Not like us.”

“You’re the one getting left behind, Bro,” Komachi said without missing a beat.

Yuigahama shivered. “I’d expect nothing less from you, Hikki…,” she muttered. The way she put it, it sounded almost respectful. Whoa, maybe she has an eye for people, I thought, but nope, her eyes were just pitying me.

“That’s not true,” I protested. “This one time in middle school, I said I wasn’t going, and then, well, they just never took me after that.” I hadn’t been going through a rebellious phase or anything. It just felt oddly embarrassing to go on a trip with my family. That’s why I said no. But the old man was freaking thrilled… Well, never mind my dad. We’re talking about Yuigahama’s vacation. “So what about this trip of yours?” I asked.

“Oh yeah,” she said. “While we’re away, I was hoping you guys could take care of Sablé.” Eyes upturned, she asked me, “No?”

I am The Japanese That Can Say No: capable of refusing most requests. But confronted with Komachi’s beaming smile as she petted Sablé, I found it hard to turn Yuigahama down.

Still, I couldn’t just obediently comply with her demands and hand her an instant yes. There are no instant answers in life.

“…You don’t have to take him all the way out here, though. We’re pretty far.” I’m sure she’s got lots of friends, and I hear these days you can find pet hotels all over.

“Yumiko’s never had a pet, and neither has Hina. I tried asking Yukinon, but she said she can’t really do it because she’s at her parents’ house…” Yuigahama faltered for a moment, looking uneasy.

Well, Yukinoshita is scared of dogs, so even if she weren’t at her parents’ house, I doubt she would’ve agreed to do it… No, maybe she actually would’ve been like, “Leave it to me!” and then oh-so-timidly offered him food.

As I entertained myself with these pleasant mental images, Komachi noticed Yuigahama’s sudden silence and urged the other girl to continue. “Has something happened with Yukino?” she asked.

Yuigahama hesitated before uncertainly looking my way. “Y-yeah… Hikki, have you been in touch with her?”

“No, I don’t even know her number.” I don’t have a messenger pigeon, so unless I put a letter in a bottle and set it adrift on the waves, I would have no way of getting a hold of her. I silently asked Komachi, What about you? But she shook her head.

“I e-mail and call her a lot, though,” said Yuigahama.

“Did something happen?” I asked.

“When I call her, I get her voice mail, and then she’ll send me an e-mail after. She takes a long time to reply…and when she does, it’s like, it just seems halfhearted? When I invite her to hang out, she always has plans…”

“Uh-huh…” Look, she’s avoiding you. I mean, that’s basically just how the kids in my class reacted back in middle school when I tried to keep in touch. Or so I wanted to say, but I decided against it. Yuigahama had obviously already realized that Yukinoshita was trying to push her away. She’s so good at reading people and blending in, there’s no way she wouldn’t figure out the most basic tells.

“I wonder if I did something…?” She laughed weakly.

“Don’t stress over it too much. She might just have a lot on her plate, dealing with her family. When school starts again, I’m sure things will just work themselves out.” It was an uncharacteristically encouraging thing for me to say. I’m good at spouting offhand, unsubstantiated remarks. It’s like that old saying, “He’s full of eight hundred lies.” Except with me, it’s eighty thousand. ’Cause I’m Hachiman. They should make that a thing.

Well, that wasn’t necessarily a total lie. Things did look rough with Yukinoshita’s family. There was that little episode around two weeks prior, at the beginning of August. We had all been saying our farewells after the camping trip, when Haruno Yukinoshita, her older sister, came to take her back home. None of us had seen the younger sister since then. And I was still having flashbacks about that black limo that drove off with them.

There had been a car accident one year ago involving me and Yuigahama…and the one responsible was in a black limo. I didn’t know if that vehicle and the one we’d seen two weeks ago were one and the same. All that connected the two cars was my hazy memory. I had no proof of anything. There were no testimonies, no statements, no explanations, nothing.

A few humorless moments passed. Even after my half-assed attempt at encouragement, Yuigahama’s worries hadn’t subsided. “I—I guess…”

“Not that I have any idea,” I said.

“Why do you have to be like that? You’re so apathetic.” Yuigahama gave me an exasperated smile.

I really don’t know, though. I don’t know Yukino Yukinoshita. Of course, I know about her on a superficial level. I know her name, her face, that she has good grades, that she keeps people at a distance, that she likes cats and Grue-bear, that she has a sharp tongue, and that she can be a little absentminded. But that’s how it is. You can’t act like you know someone based off that alone. Just as no one understands me, neither do I understand them. You can’t forget that.

And what does it take to be able to say you “know” someone, anyway?

As I descended into a maze of contemplation, I heard some shrill little yips. When I turned to investigate the initial cry, a low, rumbling noise soon followed. Sablé and Kamakura were running in circles around Komachi, engaged in a contest of intimidation. Kamakura had his Get-Away-from-Me Barrier up, but Sablé destroyed it with a Love-Love-Kamakura Beam and gave chase. Komachi, smiling and amused as she watched them, did not make any particular attempt to stop them.

So I’m gonna have to deal with this for a while now, huh…?

Yuigahama must have picked up on my chagrin. “S-sorry. I thought about taking him to a pet hotel, but it’s holiday season, so they’re all filled up,” she said apologetically with a laugh.

“And that’s where I come in, Bro.” Thump! Komachi gave a smug chuckle and arrogantly whacked a fist against her small chest with gusto. Why are you acting so weirdly dependable? Are you the ship captain or what?

Sigh. Well, it sounded like she e-mailed Yuigahama a lot, so it probably just came up during their conversation.

“If we don’t do this now, we won’t have any opportunities all summer. Chance,” Komachi muttered quietly. I suspect her eyes may have sparkled   there, but I was more distracted by her use of Zaimokuza’s verbal tic, chance. Has the virus spread from me to others? I don’t want it to become a thing… Total sacrifice.

“Well, if you don’t mind, then whatever,” I said. This was my shrewd little sister here. She’d probably already dealt with our mother. If she’d already defeated Mom, then the only remaining obstacle was our dad, and he was putty in her hands. In the Hikigaya household, the eldest son has no part in the decision-making process. There is a perfect hierarchy in place, and it goes Mom, Komachi, the old man, and finally, me. Oh, and of course, His Highness the Cat is up at the very top. To him, humans are but pawns.

“Anyway, we can take care of him or whatever, but what should we feed him?” I asked. “Vita-One? Frontline? Whoa, not Pedigree, right? We’re not that fancy, you know.”

“Why do you know so much about dog food?” Yuigahama asked. “Wait… Frontline is flea treatment! I dunno about this…” She seemed to be rethinking her decision, if her worried expression was any indication.

Komachi smiled, attempting to placate her. “It’s okay! He used to have a dog.”

“Y-you did?” asked Yuigahama.

“Sort of,” I replied. It was a long time ago, though. My memories were vague. Actually, I think it was mostly my parents and Komachi who cared for it.

A hint of warmth crept into Yuigahama’s smile. “Wow. I’m kinda surprised.”

“My brother likes cats and dogs. It’s just people he hates…”

Am I a certain former spirit detective now…?

Well, she’s not wrong. I don’t hate cats or dogs. I suppose they would even fall under the category of things I like. Especially cats.

Friends, I like cats. No, friends, I love cats! I love American shorthairs. I love tortoiseshells. I love sphynxes. I love Ragdolls and American curls; I love Scottish folds and Persians; I love Singapuras and Russian blues. Cats in alleys, in little cat huts, on cat towers, on top of fridges, on beds, on veranda railings, in cardboard boxes, in paper bags, on people’s backs, on futons—I love every single cat that lives upon this earth.

You know, abuse of animals is unforgivable to me. People who don’t cherish living beings can go and die. I hate anyone who doesn’t value life!

As I composed impassioned speeches in my head, Yuigahama abruptly let a smile slip. “Well, that’s a relief. It looks like Sablé likes you, too.”

“Don’t expect too much. I’m better at being taken care of than doing the caring. You could even call me a professional dependent,” I replied.

I’ve been a dependent for seventeen years now. I can’t think of any other way to live. Once you’ve spent your formative years relying on others, there’s no going back. I ruffled Sablé’s fur as he showed off his tummy and lolled around on his back beside me. But Komachi snatched him away.

“Well, you leave Sabby to me! It won’t be long before he can’t live without me!” Komachi was fully intent on seducing this dog away.

“I don’t really want that, but… Okay, well, I’m leaving him to you.” Despite her obvious apprehension, Yuigahama gave a quick bow, and her eyes darted to the inside of her wrist to check the time. “Oh, I have to get going. My parents are waiting.”

“All righty, then,” said Komachi. “I’ll see you off.”

Watching them out of the corner of my eye as they went down the stairs, I fished around in the carrier Yuigahama had left us. There was dog food inside, plus everything else we’d need to take care of him.

By the way, he eats Science Diet. His lifestyle is healthier than mine…

As for the canine in question, he was prowling and snuffling around the room. Oh, guess he smells the cat. As for Kamakura, he had apparently escaped the dog and was now on top of the refrigerator, gazing down on me and Sablé with languid eyes. I doubt he hated Sablé or even had much interest in him at all. He just kept his distance, kept alert, because he didn’t know to approach the other animal. That faintly reserved gaze was familiar to me.

It had been Yuigahama’s birthday, so I remembered it well.

It was a rare clear day during the rainy season. Silhouetted by a sunset red as guilt, she had smiled sadly. She drew a definite line then, I know.

It meant that we, the victims, were not like her.

Only now was I finally beginning to understand what that boundary was.