Thanks, clock.

Thanks to an inaccurate, somehow warped analog clock which used to be reliable, I am early to prom.

I clear out of the main lobby so that it won't be awkward when Isshiki follows me in. I pass the lockers and the huge balloon displays majestically arranged all the way down the hallway to the gymnasium. The balloons wobble as small groups of students pass, some looking nervous and some looking entertained. I think I would qualify as a student in the former category. It's so early that there is barely a line.

The students are few during this early stage of the night, for which I am thankful. I express my gratitude by avoiding them all and going a separate, lone direction. I feel like I have some free time to sit and actually diagnose how, if at all, I will succeed in repairing this...offering myself genuinely. I will need to analyze every possible reply Yukinoshita can give me, so that I might win her back sliver by sliver- piece by piece. Even though, pardon my inability to express it, I don't know what winning would mean for me.

I reach my special spot just in time to catch the sun resisting its inevitable, fantastic doom. The sky is sending cascades of every bright color on the spectrum of visible color and then some. It would be a picture perfect moment.

Alas, I sit here as I always have, overthinking with technical and profound precision with nothing but the strong oaks to keep me company. I feel those sails leaving to a different sunset. A different shoreline.

This is, without an objection, something I can't forget.

I shiver, the nightly cold washing me like a baptism before a funeral.

Somewhere, behind the trees that watch me ever closely, the sun is still colliding with the horizon. It comforts me that it will be back to me even if I don't win tonight.

Winning. I've always been a loser.

I'm used to losing. I wrote the book on it, which ironically, would be terrible and long winded even if it existed.

But If I'm so used to it then why is it that, tonight of all nights, I can't feel the surge of painful loss recalled to my hippocampus and amygdala.

I don't want to portray myself as some fearless demi-god. I don't deserve that kind of credit. I don't deserve any credit at all. I suppose even demi-gods have weaknesses born from the love for a companion, their sentimentality for a possession, or their loyalty to a group of people.

The wind coming through the trees makes enough noise to alter the way I reflect.

Unlike the wind, I have remained stubbornly steadfast and unbreakably dogmatic in the most stagnant, pseudo-religious form. I may as well believe in god with how much I'd reminded myself of how evil youth is. Youth is isn't even a concern now. Looking back, I feel childish for all the things I had concentrated on with such narrow sight (except the things that were and still are true). I feel childish for a recent thought; the idea that I had learned to fly when I am barely able to run.

Fly like the wind soars through the healthy trees.

All I can really do is sit at my special spot and imagine myself chasing the wind all the back to the moments before I became the monster of repetitive self-delusion- of constantly perpetuated cycles- I am now. Suffice it to say, not much has changed.

Except one thing, which will remain in my mind no matter how many times I wake up feeling like something imperative is missing.

This thing...is that I realize much of this now. I am declaring a new meta of self-actualization and philosophy. I am declaring something more...

The accommodating of a template for strong relationships. At least one strong relationship, so that I may be rewarded after I finally discover what it means to be completely genuine. I wouldn't be surprised if nothing more comes from this than what I deserve.

I realize how restful I am just sitting here amidst the non-judgmental nature.

My phone buzzes.

I have a few messages and a missed call.

Scratch that. I have many messages from Komachi and one missed call from Yuigahama.

The mention of Yuigahama reminds me of my decision to renounce, and in a non-mean spirited way, trample on Yuigahama's wish which I was asked to complete as Yukinoshita's final words.

I remain convinced that I am pursuing the correct path. Genuine.

I smile as I read Komachi's messages:

"Onii-chan...no detergent...?"

"Have fun at prom! Make sure you dance with a pretty young lady who reminds you of me! Make plenty of unforgettable memories!"

"Oh, and tell Yukinon I say yahello. Make sure you do that for me!"

I do not smile at the last message.

"Wish me luck! I'm going to the movies with Taishi Kawasaki!"

I'm going to choke slam him for going out with my sister, the bastard.

Before I forget, I make a memo to warn Komachi about what happens when guys get older. I don't want to see her innocent heart get broken by someone who probably likes to wear black lace to bed.

The time reads 6:48.

I stand and stretch for a second.

Even without a major light source to assist me in getting up from the steps and going back into the building, I still know by phantom memory where to put my hand to balance myself and how many steps I need to take to get to the door.

It's the magic of my special spot. My head is slightly less cluttered and somehow...lighter.

This doesn't mean that I want to go charging into the gym where I'm sure I'll find Yukinoshita at the cusp of her moment as a true, proud Yukinoshita.

In fact, through the lonely hallway, which is clearly lacking the decorations which adorn the other parts of the school, I walk just as slow as always.

I feel like this slow pace helps me collect myself whether disturbers of my sacred personal bubble are present or not.

My steps echo out the only sound in the midsection of the school. I relish in this moment of peace, even if I can't sit outside in my special spot.

My heartbeats become more and more excessive the closer I get to the noise...the motley of well dressed youth all prepared for a night of blossoming love and requited romance. As I round the corner, I'm brought to the hub of operation. There is a thick line of hopeful romantics and excited students all queued up to purchase their admittance. Stop laughing Tobe, not everyone is so lucky to have already had their heart broken.

So many young faces, not one of them hers...

I face unexpected trouble before I even get a chance to procure a place in the vast line which extends to the stair well and is continuing to grow. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her approaching me like a jet fighter on my six. She's just as deadly as such.

I groan silently like a thief getting caught in the act. So...she's here.

The mary-sue of the altogether invincible Yukinoshitas.

The Empress.

The Belle of yonder ball.

This woman makes me antsy. And now that I'm already uncomfortable at a social event that would've scared me to think about going to long ago, wearing what I believe is actually a tux once size too small, I feel pressured by just her look.

"Look at this cool guy over here..."

She can't be referring to me. I'm only 'cool' when the temperature is beneath 30 degrees Fahrenheit. Reflectively, I'm only 'hot' if it's...well the point is, I'm not cool.

"Sis sure knows how to choose 'em", she eyes me like a cat would observe a kitchen mouse. She looks me up and down, trying not to be too quick to trace her finger over the fabric of my tie.

Please don't eat me. I have a serious bug that will give you dead fish eyes and a lack of basic social cognition.

"She and I don't talk now."

"Ara! And why is that? Did my sister's man make a dark discovery?", she mock gasps, holding a well manicured hand to her mouth.

Sister's man? Did Yukinoshita claim dominance over her preferred mate?

It's so spartan, I would actually believe it if Yukinoshita were anything were like her older sister.

The line continues to grow. At this rate, I may never make it to the threshold of the gymnasium before 8. I'll have to dance by myself just outside...

"Ara. Think again".

"How dare you insult a lady like that! I just gave you a compliment", she rotates her ornate dress a bit too flittingly. It's not a bad dress, it's the wearer who needs a new look. She smiles with excitement at my signature off-putting comment.

"I'm surprised you expect so much of me", I say, still looking at the expanding line as if it were a python with limited space.

Haruno sees this. I'm almost scared to express what I think she's thinking. She comes closer to me, smashing my personal space bubble- my sacred space! My clean air is made putrid with the smell of saccharine and fleeting affluence. And, at the same time, I get the feeling Haruno's taste in perfume is far inferior to Yukino Yukinoshita's.

Closer still, I can feel one of her hands resting gently on my back and another nipping my arm, both steering me in the direction of the ticket box.

"I can tell how eager you are to talk to her! I didn't want you to wait any longer", she smiles with a cheeky grin.

I don't mind the help, but I was also relying on my wait in line to put off going in there sooner. I can hear a smooth jazz ballad radiating from the gym. It's complex chords and big band sound translating traditional dance to the modern age. I imagine many of my classmates and even closer acquaintances already in there, mingling and having what I imagine to be a good time.

Haruno guides me up to a tired looking male student council member in a nice vest. He notices us before handing out two tickets to a couple in matching colors. I'm almost remorseful for the overworked boy seeing as he's about to encounter the witch of Sobu High School.

"Excuse me!", she says, jumping in line.

"I will take two tickets!", Haruno exclaims. Or more aptly put, demands. She slides her pale hands on the table and then removes them, leaving behind enough yen for two tickets.

"Excuse you. If you want tickets, get to the back of the line", the exhausted clerk says, trying to make a compromise with the uncompromising.

I can only stand like a puppet on the sidelines while I wait for our inevitable entrance.

Just say yes...it will make this so much easier.

"Do you even know who I am? I happen to be very important around here". Haruno gestures to herself like a reciting madrigal.

The boy yawns, bored of this exchange. "No, I don't. So please...get in line so I can do my job".

This guy looks like he's going to be stubborn. I can tell Haruno is thinking the same thing with the look she spins at me.

"That's unfortunate...", she says, smiling like a cat with a trapped, defenseless mouse about to become a meal. Another cat analogy...damn, aren't there any other animals that remind me of this woman?

Not really. She's as conniving as she is bewitching, so in other words: a cat.

I have to wonder why she and her sister don't get along more often if that's the case. Maybe I'm not being creative enough with my analogies?

"I have to ask agai-", the boy stops, seeing Haruno retrieve her phone and dial with haste.

"-who are you calling?"

The boy now looks tired and intrigued. I imagine I don't look much different.

Haruno takes the phone away from her ear to reply. "I'm just calling my sister to let her know you aren't letting me and her boyfriend in".

The trap is sprung. Watching this is like watching a nature documentary where you hope the peaceful zebras notice the lions closing in on the watering hole. Wait! Did she say boyfriend?

"Who's your sister?"

"You may have heard of her! Her name is... Yukino Yukinoshita", Haruno explains with a complacent tone of voice. Immediately, the poor boy hands over two tickets without accepting the yen on the table, which Haruno swiftly collects.

His face pale, he lets us through apologetically. "Please have a great time!", he says quickly.

Yukinoshita, I see you are still maintaining a ruthless name for yourself. That boys shocked face had Ice Queen written all over it.

The music gets uncomfortably louder, step by step. The beat with the swung quarter notes matches my heart rate until my heart out-paces it. The rat race is over. I feel as though I've entered the twilight zone; a place I would normally never go. But still, this has to be the right decision. After all...

I can hardly think about anything without my thoughts bringing me back to her.

She's still the white light in my dreams that makes me feel somehow changed when I wake up.

She's the elegant, evocative vision in my reveries.

And now...she's the girl standing at the center of the immense hall.

I enter the room, paying close attention to Yukinoshita and Yuigahama, who are talking with each other. Surrounding them are rows of dancers. The population of dancers increase the closer to the stage you get, and all around the perimeter of the hall are ashen looking guys hunching in seats. They sit like heartbroken strangers masked in part by singles and friends chatting cordially about the usual stuff.

If I didn't have the experiences I do, I would've assumed they were simply waiting for someone.

People let you down, they reject you and send you away politely. But it hurts the most when you realize that you aren't good enough and you disappoint yourself.

I can envision my younger self preparing to make a confession or make an otherwise unauthorized move.

I get PTSD flashbacks of that Hachiman being rejected and torn down by his crushes. It was such a frequent occurrence that I didn't bother going to a dance alone. This feeling that I recall now allocates permanent butterflies to my stomach.

I head towards the punch table, where finger foods and party parcels sit in a complex array. I'm not ready, even though I've talked it through and I know that what I'm doing the right thing. I'm just imagining an end when I am unsure that I've the means. I will never be ready.

Even though I am implementing the template that will change everything, I can't just make a bee-line to Yukinoshita.

Instead, I make a detour to taste test the punch. It's good stuff, I don't know why more people aren't up here. Maybe they see me...

I realize just how vulnerable and uncamouflaged I am in this position. If there weren't pairs of tiny dancers between us, Yukinoshita would've seen me. That would've been untimely. I scoop another ladle of punch into my glass after I finish downing my first helping.

"So I hear you're going to share a dance with Tobe tonight?

I hear the school fujoshi behind me.

"Who did you hear that from?", I say without turning around. I can tell it's Ebina by the quivering excitement in her voice.

Tobe and I? What an unholy pairing.

Someone would have to be really sick to picture such a thing. Still better than Saika Totsuka and...anyone else. Nobody can defile him.

"That's not important! What is important is that he's available and you two are wearing matching ties!"

I turn around to see she is in a pleasant green dress. It's enough to make her pass for someone normal with normal proclivities. Unfortunately, her spastic smile just imagining her biggest fantasies gives her away.

Don't get carried away Ebina, I don't think Yukinoshita prepared a reserve of tissues...

"I don't think that's going to happen", I say and take another sip. Seriously, this is some good punch. I look at my burgundy tie. Tobe has a good sense of style. Maybe he's smarter than I give him credit for. At some point, I'll rue those words of praise. He can't even get my last name right.

The room is more crowded now. I see Yukinoshita standing in the middle, still chatting. I better get a move on this.

I can't put this off; I've already taken way too long. At reflection, this overdriven hesitation may be the reason I'm in this situation.

Ebina, responding to my glare like Haruno had when I looked at the line, speaks up.

"Maybe I should go?"

I catch on. "Hey..."

"What?"

"I think I see Zaimokuza confessing to Totsuka over there", I point to a random corner near the stage.

I grimace at the pairing. How dare I?

Even hypothetical, I hate the idea of Totsuka being pursued by a rotten, pubescent chuuni like Zaimokuza. I imagine Zaimokuza's hypothetical rejection.

I take a few steps away from the table while Ebina is momentarily distracted.

Hayama, Tobe, and the others of the ruling crowd come to the spread table I thought I would've departed by now.

"Yo!"

"Hey, Ebina, have you seen Yui?" asks Miura in a fire red gown. Hayama, on her right, is staring at something else. He looks tidy as always.

"I haven't, but we can go look!" Ebina replies. She looks at me as I'm sneaking away with some understanding. A look that says go on. It's strangely helpful. I feel almost ready.

The group of well established praetors move on after rejoining with Ebina, presumably to look for Yuigahama. With the entirety of the line from outside now in this portion of the building, it's no wonder I can't find Yukinoshita. The rafter lights cast down eccentric beams of laser blues and spotlight whites. With such chaotic lighting, the search for Yukinoshita is made harder. Everyone is coated in the soapy light.

I walk around to where she stood, at the heart of the hall, trying to get a vantage point. I can't get a vantage point until I'm up on stage.

I get a fascinating idea. Although, maybe fascinating isn't the right word. I can probably find her quicker if...

My path to the stage is blocked only by rows of couples encircling me like I'm Custer at the Battle of Little Big Horn. I break through them and get on stage.

Thanks to the poor stage lighting, I'm certain that no one but the rhythm section section can see me peek out of stage right. The drummer keeps the time while giving me a look full of confusion. Don't look at me, I was never here.

From the stage, I can make out heads and a few faces, but it's an overall improvement over the cat and mouse game I was playing on the overpopulated dance floor.

In a shimmering, elaborate dress of deep royal blue stands the Ice Queen, appearing formal and stalwart.

She is speaking amicably with Haruno. It will be a short-lived conversation.

On the other side of the gym stands Yuigahama, surrounded by her clan.

The butterflies return like a swarm of bees to pollen. I get off the stage before I have a panic attack and the band is forced to escort me backstage.

I reach the ground floor.

Haruno sees me take a step from there. She waves blatantly, trying to get Yukinoshita to look at me. It works.

Yukinoshita looks at me, her hair done up and her eyes in a glaze of near-perfect eye makeup. It's enchanting.

It's so enchanting that my heart leaps when her eyes connect with mine in what I hate to describe as a cliched juncture. She gives me an almost challenging look, not even realizing that Haruno is no longer there. I only half realize the voice coming from behind me.

"Hello? Izuko? Hello!"

Yukinoshita looks down, only to swivel on her heel and head another direction. Who does she think I am?

"Hey! Izuko."

I need a Yukinoshita detector like Isshiki's me detector. She disappears into the mess of students, who are no longer dancing. A few are scattered in the middle. Maybe it's half-time. Do dances have a half-time?

Wait, has the music stopped?

I notice a guy with a headset, dressed in black, tapping my shoulder.

"Izuko, where have you been? Ogami said you would be here".

What is this? Yet another wrong place wrong time kind of ordeal?

That's exactly what I'm sensing.

He takes me by the arm like I'm a kid at the zoo. We go to where I was peeking out just a moment ago. There, he hands me an electric bass and a tuner.

"You're on!" He gives me a little tap. Baffled as I am, I notice the upright bass player sitting against the wall, looking a pit...green. I see...

This is going to go horribly. I have to let him know...

"What's your deal? Are you sick too?"

"Uh..."

"Go on, you got this". He whispers this encouragement in the awkward silence hanging in the gym. He pushes me slightly harder, not giving me a chance to say anything before I am spotlighted on my stage. "Umm...wait!"

It's almost my worst nightmare.

I think about the old guitar at home. This bass can't be much different, right?

Even with such optimism, I am no doubt sweating like an ox.

I can't see the crowd. I can hear a few voices while people probably wait for the music to start again- waiting for me.

I pray that Yukinoshita's attention is elsewhere. I slowly back into my seat, almost running into the stand where I assume the next standard is waiting for me.

Blues for Alice. Key of F major. What the hell is this chart?

It's swung eighths and even has a bass solo.

"Are you okay?" asks a boy next to me, holding a guitar in his lap.

"I was wondering what you were doing, Izuko". This voice comes from the drummer.

I only nod.

The bass hums affectionately as it's plugged in. The drummer pauses, eyeing me closely before counting off the tempo.

After a few firm clicks, I am thrust into the ensemble.

I try to nail the changes but I start to get lost around bar 55.

When the song ends, I get up. The drummer and guitarist look almost relieved, just like me. I don't have time for this. Unassured contemplation has gone to explosive exigency. I hand the bass back to someone else.

You'll have to manage without me.

"Wha-where are you going?", asks the boy with the headset.

"I feel sick", I say, not looking back as I run down the steps. The band starts up again, missing a bass player. But if I had a better ear, I would say that it actually sounds better without me. I was sidetracked for a few minutes, but thanks to my position, I believe that I had Yukinoshita found.

Somewhere past these people?

Again, I'm poor with directions. It doesn't help that people have immigrated back to the main floor again.

I finally see her for a third time. It's been annoying, but at least I know that Tobe has good fashion sense (as if I have any room to speak), Yukinoshita is way too good at blending in with a crowd, and I can play bass.

I won't back down. If I know anything, it's that I've been cowering behind a web of lies born from the embers of my former turmoil. This immaturity- this relapsing has kept me from realizing the only thing capable of bringing me to prom. The only thing that, for so long, I had kept hidden from even myself. This feeling, which matches the cruel fate of every man, has me cornered. But now that I am no longer struggling to allow myself to indulge in a want of my own, I don't need to feel cornered. I feel liberated.

Even if the day ends with failure and rejection, I will know that I had acted authentically. A rose in bloom, and flower in the snow.

This winter cold, I have begun and will continue to shed like an old skin.

I feel liberated enough to say it. To say the thing that I had suddenly alluded to, as late as it is. This thing would be: my wish. This wish, which I believe will conform to this template, is probably the same as Yukinoshita's, as she had said about Yuigahama's. This wish will change me and her, but I hope...

If she doesn't go away.

If she listens to me while I fail and put together awkward words, while I offer the rawest piece of me I can.

Words that will be an almost incomprehensible dialect to me.

That we will change together.

Note: Another chapter. It's going exactly at the pace I planned, and I think things are coming together. I can't just do the prom in one chapter, that would be a bit too rushed (imo). I finally get Haruno and Ebina into the ring. Hachiman playing bass was kind of a funny idea and some other stuff I threw in for added padding. Other than these comments, I realize I could've shoehorned in the confession to Yukino, but I think that needs some more...muscle (like, story clout).

This chapter will be just one important moment in many as Hachiman figures things out. Should be fun to get more followers and questions.

Check out some of the other talented writers for this fandom! As always, thank you for reading. I'll be back on Tuesday the 29th with the sequel chapter to this one.

Another Note: I had some realizations of my own: the first chapter lacks the necessary context needed to fuel the story...and so I added the incident (let me know if it makes a difference any). This incident is my own take and is sweet and succinct, it is not verbatim volume 13 chapter 8. I also changed the summary to be more accurate.