Act 2: Weaving a Web (of lies)

Instead of following Komachi through the door, I found myself retreating to one of the balconies of the mansion. Framed by the setting sun, Chiba's iridescent skyline sparkled exquisitely in the distance. Tokyo's horizon could hardly hold a candle to this ethereal beauty. Dare I say I had missed this sight?

I was well aware of my sister's disapproval for my reclusive lifestyle. It wasn't something I planned on changing. Given her circumstances, it was hard for her to understand my situation. Unlike me, Komachi was blessed with good looks and a vibrant personality. It was easy for her to build happy, sincere relationships. For me, on the other hand… it suffices to say that money cannot buy meaningful companionship. The people who approached me were all invariably drawn by financial greed. I have the utmost of contempt for them. But then again, perhaps it was all a result of my egotistic attempts at self-preservation. To protect myself, I chose to remain unattached.

A bitter winter breeze made me shiver and grasp my coat tightly. It was time to head home.

THE HIKIGAYA RESIDENCE

The Internet is a magnificent tool for the man who seeks to avoid social contact. In the span of less than sixty minutes, without having to speak to a single person, I had finished arranging the catering and entertainment services for my event. Such elegant simplicity!

Thankfully, my talented little sister had – albeit with some degree of reluctance – done the heavy lifting concerning the logistics of the event and tied up all the loose ends. She really was remarkably competent for someone who seemed to be an airhead all the time. Now all that remained to bring the party to life was to send out the invitations.

I tentatively drafted a guest list containing the names of the more prominent residents of Chiba. Though I recognized a few names here and there, my time spent away in Tokyo had clearly taken a toll on my familiarity with Chiba. I hesitated briefly before emailing my sister. Komachi was going to hate this list.

I found her fawning over our elderly cat, Kamakura.

"Komachi, I sent it to you," I said. I paused, trying to think of a way to make the list more acceptable to her. "Listen – if you want, you can add onto the list. Invite whoever you want."

My sister smiled sweetly at me, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Sure!"

A VERY NOISY MANSION

I hate social events of all types with a fiery passion, and though I was the host, this party was hardly an exception. In fact, this was worse. Though I was no stranger to parties and mixers, I could barely tolerate them even when I attended them with acquaintances. How was I supposed to survive as a dignified host to hundreds of strangers? The turnout from all the invitees was delightfully high, and it was my happy duty as host to greet my guests and ensure their satisfaction.

Somehow, Komachi had anticipated that I was in over my head and had bailed me out. She was growing into quite the young socialite.

Thanks to my sister's generosity, I found myself furtively prowling the hallways of my mansion, with no particular aim in sight. There was simply no need to engage in direct networking. The magnitude of the event already did well to get my name out.

My appearance lent itself well to my desire to stay unnoticed. No one in their right mind would willingly approach a shifty looking stranger, however well dressed, to start a conversation. Or so I thought, until I heard someone call my name.

"Hikigaya-kun!"

Startled, I looked up from my glass of wine. I immediately wished I hadn't done so. Standing down the hall from me was a familiar face from my past.

Yukinoshita Haruno still looked every bit the flawless socialite that she had appeared to be when I had seen her last, almost four years ago. I stared at her, sizing her up. Now that I thought about it, it was only natural that she would be here, as representative of the Yukinoshita family.

She returned my gaze with a patronizing, manufactured smile. A very loud silence ensued.

I decided to acknowledge her.

"Yukinoshita-san." I bowed. "It is my pleasure to have you with us this evening. I have some duties to attend to, so I am afraid I must excuse myself."

Before I could flee, she had closed the gap between us and leaned into my ear.

"And just what could those duties be?" she whispered. "Slinking around in his own home like a thief?"

She straightened and giggled. "You're funny, Hikigaya-kun. I've already watched you sneak up and down this hallway three times tonight. I wonder what you are trying to do."

Ah, it looked like my options for escape had all been cut off. Well, the cornered rat – wait, I meant bear – will stand and fight!

"I think my message to the guests has already been conveyed," I replied. "It takes a fool to miss it."

"You're right, as usual. Loud and clear. No one could miss it. But," she said, leaning closer again, "my question is, why?"

I backed away. "What do you mean?"

"If my memory serves me correctly, you despise the idea of working. I believe you even once expressed a desire to be a full-time house husband." She looked disappointed. "In a way, that made you unique. But now you're just like the rest of them. Why did you become boring, Hikigaya-kun?"

I bristled. "Because I realized the paradox that lay in my future. I was— I was a nobody. No one—"

No one deserved to be burdened by me. But I left those words unsaid. Along the way I had convinced myself that this was indeed the best possible option. The path of least resistance – to remake Hikigaya Hachiman. To cast aside the past and step forward boldly as herald of the new world.

Instead of continuing with my statement, I fell silent. This was what Haruno did best, provoking others into taking ill-advised action, then preying on the consequences of said mistakes.

Greed. Lust for power. Fear. Although it was easy for me to deduce the motivation for most people, I could never quite read Haruno. She remained as threateningly mysterious as she was on the day I had first met her.

"Yukinoshita-san, please give me some space."

Bad choice. My words drew a jab to my cheek.

"How cold! You're starting to sound like Yukino-chan. By the way, have you two been in touch?"

"No," I answered truthfully.

Though I parted ways amicably with my acquaintances from high school, I had resolved to put them all out of my mind. It was senseless to delve back into the past, just as it was senseless to reread a book I already knew by heart.

"It's her birthday today, you know."

"So?" If I persisted with my monosyllabic responses, perhaps she would grow tired of trying to bait a rise out of me and move on to abusing some other poor soul.

My tormentor's tone grew softer and, uncharacteristically, empathetic, if it even can be called that. "Hikigaya-kun, whatever it is that you sought, did you ever find it?"

"Yes," I said, blankly, but without hesitation.

"So you grew to equate them," she mused. "How… disappointing."

I opened my mouth to let out a retort, but found myself strangely speechless. All of my carefully formulated defenses had been thrown into a state of disarray.

Before I could recollect my bearings, she sighed. "I will be seeing you, Hikigaya-kun."

And as suddenly as she had appeared, Yukinoshita Haruno was gone again, with only that distinct feeling of unease left in her wake. As always, persuading Haruno to leave me alone was only half of the battle.

After Haruno vanished, I escaped onto one of the empty balconies. My meetings with her in the past had always concluded like this, leaving me with a familiar sensation of claustrophobia. I leaned against the smooth wooden railing to take in the nightscape.

Chiba drowned in moonlight set my heart aflutter with its beauty.

To my dismay, I felt a sharp pang of nostalgia. Such sentimentality for the past was dangerous and crippling. It made it impossible to truly reset one's life and focus on important matters in the present.

I do not claim to be an honest man. I am willing to lie as frequently as necessary. In spite of that, I still hold tightly onto what integrity I do have left. I do not lie to myself. Perhaps that was why I found it so hard to ask myself if I was truly happier now. From a rational man's perspective, the answer should have been a simple, resounding YES. But my memories of Chiba had planted a tiny, perilous seed of doubt in my mind.

The past is a graveyard of empty promises.

Right?