Hyouka

Title: The Fine Line Between Two Things

Summary: Houtarou likes to think he's a good friend to Chitanda Eru. – Houtarou/Eru

Disclaimer: I own nothing save this story.


friend noun \'frend\

: one attached to another by affection or esteem;

: one who considers friendship with another;

: a person demonstrating a consistent tendency to desire what is best for the other.


~0~

Chitanda claps her hands together. "It's decided then!" she declares like a champ. "See you at nine o'clock!"

Satoshi nods his head furiously in assent and Ibara lets a couple of cheers escape from her mouth.

Houtarou places his book down at the table with nothing as much as a sound. He inwardly thinks about the emotional insurgency he just read. He turns to the others. "What is?"

Chitanda tilts her head. "The picnic, Oreki-san. Don't you remember? We promised we'd celebrate every summer break, and we all agreed to go to the Nakaguchi hills in time for the festival."

Huh? When did that happen? "Oh, I see."

Satoshi grins manically. "You really never pay attention to any of the club meetings, don't you, Houtarou? Anyway, Chitanda-san, what should we bring tomorrow?"

"Oh, right!" Chitanda furrows her eyebrows, deep in thought. "Let's see… Fukube-san, you're in charge of the beverages. Is that all right? Mayaka-san would be the one to oversee the transportation like last time. As for Oreki-san – "

"Something ridiculously easy that even a dog could do, Chi-chan."

"– maybe you should bring the outdoor blanket." She beams, pleased that she's able to show her authority as the club president without any setbacks.

"What about you?"

"Oh! I'll bring the food and the rest. I'm sorry to trouble all of you for this – "

"Don't worry about it." Ibara smiles at her indulgently. "You're far too nice to us, Chi-chan."

"Thank you very much, everyone!" Chitanda executes a perfect bow befitting her. "I hope we can make this picnic a success!"

"Yoooooosssshhhhhhh!" Ibara and Satoshi intone cheerfully in chorus, and Houtarou idly wonders whether these two had been lying about their actual age.

A face appears before him, huge, inky, purple eyes asking him: "Is something the matter, Oreki-san?"

"Ahh, nothing." He inches back, his eyebrows quirking slightly. He stands, taking his bag with him. "I guess I'd better get home now. For, you know, the trip."

He ignores Ibara's indignant mumbling about lazy-bums and blankets as he leaves the room, Satoshi tailing noisily behind him.

The next morning Houtarou fumbles for the picnic blanket he packed last night among other things. He quickly gets dressed, eats breakfast, and brushes his teeth. He hears his sister growl magnificently at something in the other room when a thought prickles his neck. He spits the foam from his mouth with a sigh, and gargles his way out of the sink. He takes a bag from one of the drawers and puts utensils and plates inside it neatly. He stops, thinking better of it, and replaces the tableware with disposable ones.

He's slightly annoyed – with himself or with a certain someone, he's not sure – that he'd just expended more energy than what he had bargained for, and tries sullenly to placate himself that doing certain things would sometimes save him more energy in the long run.

He's right. When they are about to eat Chitanda panics like a cicada and worries about not bringing any utensils for the trip. Houtarou's lips upturn slightly as he hands her a spoon.

~0~

They are walking down the streets one autumn day, Houtarou on the left and Chitanda on the right, as they journey to find the district shop across town. Chitanda wants to buy a cute pack of stationary she and Ibara were – Houtarou discerned – practically molesting with their eyes the other day. Since his route home passes the shop's location, she suggested that they walk home together. Houtarou does not remember protesting or agreeing.

They arrive at the part of the city that does not have any traffic lights. The cars are speeding without a care, probably taking the advantage of the lack of civil guidelines.

They cross the street. Houtarou surreptitiously moves to Chitanda's right side as they cross, and moves back to her left when they reach the halfway mark of the road, taking absolute care as cars zoom past them.

When they reach the other side, Houtarou hopes that Chitanda did not notice.

~0~

At White Day he sees, out of chance, a confession letter lying face-up on the desk near him.

Wonderful, Houtarou ponders dryly, when a name on the letter catches his eye.

The intended recipient of the letter is none other than Chitanda Eru, the elegant but whimsical president of the Classics Club.

Or it seems to be, since Ashiya – he remembers the name of his seatmate now. A dark-haired boy with eyes so alive that Houtarou tires just looking at them – misspelled Eru, using a different character for her first name altogether.

Houtarou finds himself miffed at the circumstance, and he shakes his head furiously, wondering when he had ever become so brash. And irrational.

Chitanda's going to be the death of him, he swears.

He takes an eraser from his desk and replaces the mistake with a couple of strokes. He does not read the rest of the letter.

He refrains from going to the clubroom and instead goes home immediately after school. Houtarou feels troubled for the rest of the day.

~0~

"So," his father starts the conversation, as he always does at the start of the morning with Houtarou looking like he just had a fight with his sheets – and lost. It's a tradition of sorts. "How is school? You and Satoshi really made a lot of friends. I'm glad. Your graduation's only a few months away, eh?"

Houtarou nods, taking a sip of hot chocolate from his mug.

"Speaking of graduation, I'll be home in time for the ceremony," his father says, and then sighs. "You kids sure grow up fast. Say, do you have any plans for college?"

Houtarou thinks about it for a while. "Not yet, I guess."

"Well, you should talk to your sister about taking things slow. Seriously, that girl. I mean, look at her. She's not even yet finished with university and she's already bent on conquering the world." He chuckles. "You planning on working abroad, too?"

"No. I don't think it suits me."

"I have to agree. Tokyo, then?"

"Nah, I'll stay here."

He can't exactly say that he's surprised. Even he can't picture his son amidst the bustling streets and flashing lights the city offers. He smiles at him. "I'm sure you'll find something worth investing yourself on here in Kamiyama. I'll support you either way."

The look on Houtarou's face is not something his father can fully understand. At least, not yet. "I will." It's a promise.

~0~

Fukube Satoshi likes to laugh at his best friend once in a while.

It is one of the days in their clubroom, Chitanda rocking back and forth on her heels, prodding Houtarou to move with her fingers tugging at his sleeves. The latter, finally giving in with a teed off expression on his face, follows Chitanda out of the room with a huff.

Houtarou's deductive skills notwithstanding, he really does overlook important things from time to time.

"What an idiot," Satoshi says, grinning to himself.