Chapter 2: The Troublesome Beginning, Part 2
1st Saturday
Despite how loud everyone around us was being, I felt a tensely quiet atmosphere between us, Yumiko Miura, the "Fire Queen" of Sobu, had left Chiba years ago, likely due to painful memories. Why she had returned is anybody's guess.
It's strange, isn't it? Those painful memories kept me trapped in this city, while they forced her away. I guess it's just one of the many things we don't share in common.
"Hikigaya." The look in her eyes were unreadable. Her facial expression was neutral. If there was rage in her, I couldn't see it. In high school, and as a fresh college student, she was terrible at concealing her emotions, preferring instead to unleash them full force at anyone around her.
"Miura." To be frank, I have no idea what to say to her. I've never been particularly close to or even remotely fond of this woman. All I know is that I'm the source of a lot of pain for her – at least, in the past, I was. I have no idea what her mental or emotional state is like nowadays, of course.
"It's… it's been quite some time. Do you have time to talk? We've got old business to resolve, I think." For a moment, as she speaks, she looks more tired, older. Every part of me wants to just say no, and to run away. But something about the look on her face…
I just can't say no. I nod my head yes.
"Onii-chan. I'll take care of the shopping, then. Text me when you're done." Komachi gives me a look. She doesn't say the words, but I know what she means. Be careful. It's the kind of thing that only works when two people truly know each other.
"C'mon, let's go. There's a café just around the corner." She turned around, and began walking at a very brisk pace. I follow silently. I'm not sure if what I'm doing right now is very wise, but… I don't think I can escape this situation. It seems even I have to take responsibility sometimes. After a few minutes, she opens the door to one of the shops. "Here we are."
I enter behind her. The café is full of teenagers and young adults. The scent of coffee is overpowering. Trendy clothing, expensive electronics, and lots of shiny jewelry are common themes of most of the patrons. "Hikigaya. Want anything? It's my treat for dragging you out here." While it's a surprisingly thoughtful gesture on her part, I really don't feel like eating or drinking anything right now.
"I'm alright. You get something for yourself. I'll get a table."
"Suit yourself. Get a window table, if you can."
Kind of a random request, but one that's easy to oblige. I take a table by the window and put my chin on my hand, looking out at the busy mall. There really are all sorts of people at a place like this. A few punks walk around, sporting ridiculous hairdos and questionable piercings. A haggard woman leads around a couple of small children. Some preteens are moving in an obnoxious line, filling up the hall as they laugh and scream. Damn kids. You're not the only ones here, you know!
As I'm getting lost in my idle thoughts, the sound of someone sitting in the seat in front of me brings me back to reality. A completely non-extravagant and normal-looking black coffee was in Miura's hands as she sat down. She takes a single sip before putting it back down and looking back at me.
Immediately, the atmosphere becomes awkward. Neither of us ever really knew each other to begin with, and we didn't part on very good terms the last time we met. I could try to say something… but she's the one who wanted to talk, so I think I'll just let her go… I'm not being cowardly, I swear. Just polite.
"So… I want to start with an apology." She looks at her coffee, idly stirring even though her sugar cubes have long since dissolved. "All those years ago, I was just so angry and hurt. Not just with you, but with… with him, as well. I don't think what we had would have really worked out well. He was always so distant, locking his feelings away behind that smiling mask of his. Just before that incident happened, I felt like I had a breakthrough with him. For the first time, he agreed to singing a dumb love song with me at karaoke. It was an American song…"
"When… when that happened… it felt like I was robbed. Like that chance I had gotten was cruelly taken from me, and then I was left with… with nothing. I was so bitter and so messed up that I… I wanted someone to hurt. To suffer. So that I wouldn't be the only one going through hell. And you… you were the easiest for me to point the finger to. A guy I barely knew… A guy who seemed superficially creepy to idiot 18-year-old me… You were honestly someone I should've sympathized with. Someone I should've felt concerned for. But I was so weak, so bitter, that I attacked you. I'm sorry. I…"
By this point, her voice was cracking. She can't seem to look up at me. Miura's long hair is covering her eyes, but her trembling body betrayed what she was doing. "I'm a terrible person for hurting you all those years ago. Maybe you'll hate me forever. Maybe you'll always think I'm a shallow, stupid bitch. It wouldn't be unfair." The wording makes me flinch, and think back to a certain day, long ago.
Miura finally looks up. It's only then that I notice the bags under her eyes. The tears aren't doing her any favors – she looks miserable and tired. I open my mouth, not even sure of what I'm going to say – but it seems that it doesn't matter if Yumiko Miura is full of misery or vigor, her personality is far more overpowering than mine. With just a look, she silences me.
"I came back to Chiba because I didn't want to run from my past anymore. And to see you again so soon after coming back, maybe, just maybe, it's a sign. I'm sorry, Hikigaya. Sorry for all of those years of dismissing you and for messing things up for you. For using you as an excuse, even though it was all probably my fault anyway." The tears have stopped. Instead, she looks simply tired. People are shooting guilty looks our way, as if they want to watch to see what happens without looking like annoying vultures. Bad news, chumps, you're failing.
Frankly, I'm not sure what to say in this situation. I've never been good at dealing with raw emotion. She's… facing her demons right now. Compared to her, I really am a coward. Back in high school, hell, even now, I deal with my problems by deflecting them. Redirecting them. Finding ways to eliminate the problem without really solving them. It's efficient. It "works." At least in the short-term. Seems like the firebird is trying to find a new future. I was bothered by what she did back then, but as the years went by I came to pity her. And facing her now, I can't help but feel a little admiration. I don't think I need to say much at all, in all honesty. It seems like she simply needed to get things off her chest.
"You don't need to apologize to me. We all went through crazy phases after that happened. I never really took what happened personally, and I'm, uh, glad to hear you're working to get better." I gave her a thumbs up.
"Ha... I pour my heart out, and that's all I get? Sheesh, Hikio. You're so rude and lazy." She puts on a small smile, however. "Still, I'm glad that you feel that way." The two of us fell into a comfortable silence. She took another sip of her coffee. Whatever intensity existed in the atmosphere had pretty much faded. Good thing to me.
"Hikio. I'll let you go now. I would feel bad to keep you away from your sister any longer." I nod quietly in response, relieved that this little meeting had gone well. "Give me your phone," she says.
"Huh?" I ask.
"I'm giving you my number. I thought you were supposed to be perceptive, oh monster of logic."
"Ugh, let that go… I was just an edgy teenager…" Thinking back to my teenage years really make cringe sometimes. I hand my phone to her. She hands her phone to me. Recording our numbers, we trade back. I look through my extremely small list of contacts, and "Yumiko Miura" is indeed recorded. A text message appears, reading, "Testing. Look up if you saw this, Hikio."
Looking up, I say, "What if I hadn't gotten the message and just looked up anyway?"
Completely ignoring my snark, Yumiko simply says, "Well, looks like it worked. Go on ahead, Hikigaya. I think I'll finish my coffee before I go." I roll my eyes before responding.
"Alright. I'll be off, then." I get out of my seat and leave the café. I pull out my phone again, and this time call Komachi. After a few seconds, she answers the phone.
"Onii-chan! What happened?"
"I'll tell you about it later. Where are you?"
"I'm by the entrance we used, actually. It didn't take me long to find something for you."
"Alright. See you in a bit." I close the phone and walk towards the location. On the way there, I notice a woman selling sweets at a stall. I talk to her and buy a couple of pastries. What kind of older brother doesn't treat his younger sister? What? I'm way too old to be acting in such a way? Nonsense! It's not creepy at all!
I notice Komachi sitting at a bench by the entrance. "Oi!" I wave my hand, trying to get her attention. Komachi notices, and walks toward me. "So, are we done here?"
"Yup! Let's go to your place, onii-chan. There we can talk and I can help you look good for your night out. It's about 11:30, so there's plenty of time." As she's talking, the two of us are headed back to my car. When we're inside, I reveal the sweets – two melon breads, soft, moist, and sweet. "You're the best, onii-chan."
The drive back is uneventful. Komachi and I talk about random things, catching up on things going in our lives. She has much more to talk about then me, as usual. I try to subtly pick up information about potential boyfriends in her life – while I have long since accepted that Komachi's happiness was more important than my overprotective desires, I still hold a solemn duty as her older brother to make sure no good-for-nothing scoundrels worm their way into her heart. Unfortunately, Komachi's inherited the Hikigaya ability to pick up on behavioral cues, on top of knowing me better than arguably anyone, so she weaves and dodges every little question and nudge I make.
Talking with Komachi always seems to shorten the car rides. A benefit to a sharp-witted conversationalist, I suppose. Parking in the apartment parking lot, we hit the elevator up to my floor. Entering the apartment, I say, "Yoshida! I'm back. My sister is with me."
Yoshida comes out of his room, dressed in casual clothing. "Hey." Nodding to Komachi, Yoshida says simply, "Good to see you again. What are you doing here?" Yoshida's met her a few times already.
"I'm helping him out for his night out. He's such a dope when it comes to dressing out, I'm worried it'll get in the way of things."
"Heh, good call. This man is useless where anything involving social norms are involved." His face adopts a wry smile. "You should've seen him on the first day of work."
Komachi adopted a facial expression I could only describe as mischievous. "What happened?" Oh for the love of- not this story again.
"The moron came dressed in formal attire, which isn't a bad idea per se, but what made it so hilariously awful was his suit color. It… it…" He's already laughing. Idiot! You haven't even said what's supposedly funny about it yet!
"It was orange! Bright orange!" Komachi's eyebrows rose. Yoshida could only nod as he laughed. He pulled out his phone and after a few taps, showed it to Komachi. I already knew what he was showing her – a picture of me in that bright orange suit. She started snickering, and then laughing outright.
"O-onii-chan, you look like an orange creamsicle!" With my pale complexion, I indeed looked something like the iconic ice cream treat. Much to my chagrin, my co-workers agreed, and I still get called something like that every once in a while…
The suit was something I borrowed out of desperation. I wanted to wear a suit my first day to work, but my actual suit was in the dry cleaner due to bad planning on my part. Keep in mind that I was really low on cash around this time, so when I tried to rent a suit, I asked for the cheapest one – and it turned out to be orange. Nothing I looked up on the Internet said that it was inappropriate to wear orange (probably because the thought of wearing an orange suit never occurred to anyone in the first place…), so I assumed it was alright to wear.
I ended up getting a lot of attention on my first day of work. It was horrible, humiliating, and I never wear suits to work unless the boss specifically asks me to do so. "Yeah, yeah, I look stupid, I get it."
"At least your tie matches the suit." Yoshida laughs again at Komachi's comment. If my eyes could roll any higher, they'd enter the ceiling.
Before I could drop my witty retort, my phone vibrates. My phone's notification read, "Text Message from Totsuka Saika." With no delay, I unlocked my screen and read the message. What could it be? Is he in trouble? Does he need help with something? Is he bailing on the gokon? If he drops out of the gokon, I am definitely not going alone with Zaimokuza.
"Hey Hachiman! I was wondering if you could pick me up and give me a ride to the karaoke?"
Oh, he just wants a ride. I message him a swift, "Sure." A moment later, his address was sent to me.
"Thank you! :-)" I message him that I'll come pick him up about half an hour before the gokon starts.
"Onii-chan. Let's eat some lunch before we do anything. We have a good amount of time."
"Sounds good. What do you want?"
"Some of your curry! It's one of the only things I can trust you with."
So rude! I can cook more than just curry now, you know. Besides, the Internet is full of amazing and easy recipes that even a cooking simpleton like me can figure out! I suppose there's nothing wrong with making curry, however. I start by chopping up some vegetables…
A short amount of time passes, during which Komachi watches some television while I scurry about getting the meal ready. Soon enough a delicious pot of curry stands ready for eating while the rice cooker finishes its sole (yet vital) job. "Komachi, let's eat."
"Whew, I'm so hungry! Mmm, it smells good onii-chan." The two of us get our portions and sit down, eating.
"Komachi, I got a text from Totsuka. I'll be picking him half an hour before the gokon."
"Oh, okay. We still have plenty of time, so it should be alright. How is he doing?"
"He's tearing up opponents all across Japan, and seems to be happy with his life. I'd say he's doing great."
"That's awesome. What about… chuuni? I know you're doing some work with him."
"When he's not being an irresponsible moron, he's churning out pretty good work. I DO think that if he keeps it together, his story should do pretty well."
"Really? I thought he was just going to crash and fail. Didn't you say he was prone to giving up too easily?" She's correct. I have harshly criticized his lack of grit; when it came to any sort of pressure, Zaimokuza caved far too easily. He's made great steps towards overcoming that part of his nature, however.
"Lately, he's been getting better. Zaimokuza seems to have developed some sort of self-confidence in his writing. In every other area, however, he seems to be lacking, but…" I pause. I should give credit where it is due. "I do think his work is worth the extra effort on my part. I'd rather die than admit that to him, though."
"Ha! You're such a tsundere. Still, if your writer is doing well, you must be able to have a good time too, onii-chan. I'm glad. I wish I had my career figured out like that." Komachi sighed. Truly, the life of a college student is pitiable.
"You'll be fine. I was floundering for a while before I could get a job, but unlike me, you're someone people like. You should have a much easier time then me in interviews." It's true. Komachi's smart, and whatever she can't understand easily she makes up for with a good work ethic. Add on her social skills and you've got a force to be reckoned with in those interviews.
"Sheesh… you're just saying that." I could tell she was pleased, however. "Anyway, let me go over what you need to do to get ready." Pulling out a pair of jeans and a few fashionable shirts, she says, "Pick one of these shirts and wear them. Wear the jeans. Make sure you shower first, of course, I'm sure my responsible onii-chan planned on doing that already." She shot me a knowing look as she said so. I'm not that lazy, sheesh!
"Just wear your deodorant and be dressed in the clothes I picked onii-chan. You'll look great, despite your unfortunate dead fish eyes. Wear that watch I got you last Christmas and you'll look more important, too. You gotta set a good impression, after all." Sheesh, if she treats job interviews this seriously, she really should have no problem getting in.
"Onii-chan, you're actually not a bad looking guy, if you can get past the dead-fish eyes. Just try not to be too rude… I want you to meet a hot girlfriend that can be my sister-in-law so that I don't have to take care of you." She stuck out her tongue in a mischievous way to show no ill-will with the light jabs.
"Komachii… you're reaching a little too much."
"You're right. I guess she doesn't have to be hot. As long as she makes you happy, onii-chan!" This woman, I swear…
"Seriously, though onii-chan. I believe in you. You deserve happiness. You shouldn't let your past hold you back…" A worried expression appeared on her face. "What happened with her all those years ago… I know that it's stuck with you. Please, onii-chan. You should really let go of that."
I appreciate you, Komachi. Truly. But I'm not agreeing with you. I don't deserve that kind of happiness in my life. I'm going to this party tonight out of a hapless desire to help some of the few who are my friends in this world, not to meet anyone.
"I'll… think about it." Not exactly a lie, but not really a truth, either.
Sensing that she wasn't going to get much farther with me, Komachi sighed. "Well onii-chan, I'll head back home now. I called mom so you don't need to drop me off."
"Alright, Komachi. Thank you for your help today." I really do appreciate my sister. I know that she means well, even if we don't see eye to eye on everything.
Looking at the clock, I realize have a couple of hours. Deciding that sleep would be good for me, I take a nap after setting an alarm.
I dream once more. I'm locked in Niflheim – world of snow. Roaring blizzards fade away into graceful flakes before I wake up once more, completely oblivious to the grace of my dreams and instead minorly irritated at my alarm.
I could go into extra details about my following shower and dressing up, but I'll skip that. "Yoshida! I'm going out." Hearing a grunt as acknowledgement, I leave the apartment, locking it before heading down to my car again.
Revving up the engine, I drive towards Totsuka's place, making remarkable pace. Normally, traffic around 6:00 PM is pretty bad due to the many corporate slaves going home at this time, but today was pretty early, and so I arrived at Totsuka's place ten minutes earlier. Knocking at his door, I wait for a moment, before Totsuka answers.
"Ah, Hachiman! You're a bit early. I'll be out in a moment."
"I'll wait in my car, then."
Within a few minutes, the two of us are headed towards the karaoke bar, which is fortunately quite close to his house. After parking, the two of us wait on a bench outside of the bar. I pull out my phone to call Zaimokuza, but the door to the bar opens, revealing him to already be there.
Figures he's able to be on time when women are involved.
"Come, my comrades! We're to wait in the lobby!"
"Alright, Zaimokuza. Let's go, Hachiman!"
I nod, and follow behind the two. The three of us sit down. There's still about 10 minutes before the appointed time, and I doubt punctuality is key in an event like this. I sit in silence during this time, while Totsuka tries to give Zaimokuza some tips about expressing himself a little better.
My earlier conversation with Komachi resurfaces in my mind. It's true that I've been living a little less fully then I could be, and that it's because of all of the circumstances surrounding her. But… there are things I'm responsible for that I cannot forgive myself for. Things I've done and I've tried to do that I just cannot or have not tried to fix, and for those things, I know I'm not ready for finding anything genuine. How could I be? I've lived like a fraud for so long.
As I'm musing to myself, I hear Zaimokuza say, "Hachiman! I think they're here!"
I look up at the people in front of us.
"W-wait… you're… you're Hikitani! And Totsuka!" A young guy with a dumb haircut looks at us. He's vaguely familiar, and he clearly knows me- wait that's Tobe. What in the world? I look past him. He's with a guy I don't recognize.
Tobe starts looking very nervous and panicky. Before I can surmise why, more people enter the lobby. They're women. Familiar looking women.
Black hair. Glasses. A certain mysterious quality in the way she moves, and the way she carries herself.
Striking silver hair. Purple eyes. A unique combination of colors, and a general demeanor that suggested someone not to be trifled with.
Hina Ebina. Saki Kawasaki. People whose paths I crossed with in high school, and never really interacted with again, although I did see them for brief moments at a certain funeral, years ago…
There's another pair of girls here who I don't know, don't recognize. Of course, I'm not paying attention to them. I'm only able to pick up on Hina and Saki from my peripheral, because I'm stuck staring at someone else.
She looks different, which is to be expected. Her hair is no longer dyed. It's in a different style from her signature Chinese bun. She looks wonderful in her red dress, with, ahem, her proportions being as full as ever. Her peach eyes lock with my dead fish ones, and once more, I'm left speechless thanks to an act of the fickle rom-com gods.
Why did I have to run into Yuigahama Yui now?
A/N:
Hey guys! It's Heat. I did some extremely minor editing on the previous chapter, correcting a couple of grammar and wording mistakes. I'm going to try to put out another chapter tomorrow, because I'm expecting a relatively busy time this week.
I wonder, are my chapters too long? Too short? My goal is to be around 3 to 4 thousand words a chapter.
Also, I'm increasingly running into a problem with Japanese names – honorifics and order of surnames and first names are a pain for me to deal with, so please bear with me as I attempt to standardize a system for myself. I'm going to avoid using any actual honorifics (with the exception of Komachi's various -chans, because I find it difficult to capture the same emotions Komachi's use of the words for Hikigaya has in English, seeing that there's no real translation from -chan to English) and I'm going to try to keep it first name, last name, Western style. I'm probably going to slip a few times (I'm really used to saying Kawasaki Saki or Yuigahama Yui, for example, so please tell me if you catch it so I can try to keep some sort of established pattern throughout the story.
Added 10/15/2017:
***Fanfic Critic: I already had mentioned that I'm very bad with Japanese names, but honestly I just got it in my head for some reason that Yumiko was Miura's surname and so I switched it around – I had fully intended for Hikigaya to be addressing her by last name. Since you're the first person to criticize my work, I would have loved to explain what was happening with my story and perhaps even improve, but you decided to use an anonymous account and then made a bunch of assumptions not only about my story but me as a person off of a single mistake on my part, which I find to be a bit cowardly but far more importantly not a very productive way to criticize me, since there can't be any discussion!
Still, I'm glad you pointed out such a critical flaw, even though it's obvious your intent was not to actually help me progress as a writer (which is the intended purpose of the review system, I'm not sure if you know that). That being said, anyone else who wants to criticize me, please do so! If you don't tell me what's wrong, I can't fix it!
I'm assuming whoever made that isn't going to be reading any of my story anymore, but it makes it a learning experience for me – I can't actually discuss anything with an anonymous reviewer, so I wonder if I should just turn off anonymous reviews?