Disclaimer: Long chapter, heavily focused on the truth behind Hikigaya 'Hachiman'. Basically a long monolgue, so you can technically skip it if you want, but there are quite a few details that might be important. Your choice.

Thank whoever was stupid enough for letting Hiratsuka Shizuka become a teacher and entrusting her with the keys of the school. That single mistake is what made most of the job as easy as a walk in the park.

We were able to sneak inside the building and inside the clubroom very early in the morning, and placing back into the closet my guitar case along with the human-like Hachiman doll I made to confront Sagami at the festival. Once that was done, Shizuka drove me back home in her car, where we talked for a bit, until she reluctantly let me re-enter my house without Komachi noticing I wasn't there. That did cost me a very brief session of kissing though...

It's today.

I'm not going to bullshit anyone nor myself, it's the first time in literal years that I am actually nervous and anxious about how things will go. Either positive, mixed, or downright straight to Hell. I contacted every single person I myself estimed worthy of knowing my secret and the burden I've been carrying silently for more than a year on my shoulders, unnoticed.

Komachi being an obvious one because well, it's Hikigaya Komachi! It's her reaction I fear the most, for the sole reason that Hachiman was her older brother. But another person who might be traumatized for life by this revelation is none other than the club's very president, Yukinoshita Yukino. It was her car, her family's car to be more specific, that sent Hikigaya Hachiman to the Afterlife, in a accident that shouldn't have been fatal to him, selflessly sacrificing himself by rescuing Sablé, Yuigahama Yui's dog.

Yui is clearly 'invited', as well as Zaimokuza Yoshiteru, Saika Totsuka and Saki Kawasaki. Shizuka herself will be there too.

Then there is the point where we come to the part where people other than me would think 'Wait, is this a good idea to let that person know?'.

Among the other names on my list, and some if not most might confuse, are Yukinoshita Haruno, Miura Yumiko, Isshiki Iroha, Shiromeguri Meguri and Ebina Hina.

Let it be clear that I absolutely refuse to let Hayama know anything about more about me than what he is already aware of. To him, I will stay and remain Hikigaya Hachiman, the loner he doesn't like and want to rely upon, despite being forced to do so, who was simply hiding himself behind a well crafted mask all along. None of his friends won't know about it as well.

I decided to go against the decision to tell Hachiman's parents the truth concerning their son and his passing. Keeping it a secret to the grave between me and Komachi will already prove to be difficult enough, I don't want to put them in a situation where they would mourn or be angry for the death of one of their child. No parents should have to bury their kids, ever!

What made me pick Yumiko, Hina, Iroha, Haruno and hell, Meguri the StuCo president, at least until she is replaced by, most likely Iroha herself, is that like Yukino, Yui, and Saki, I showed them my mask, but they also showed me they kept their mind open, and proved to be trustworthy enough to keep my secret for all this time, aside from Meguri and Iroha who are the two most recent addition and have yet to witness the truth.

Worst case scenario, one of them spill the beans about me, and I end up locked inside an asylum for being a mental case. That wouldn't exactly change me from what I put myself through the last few years...

But aside from that, right now I park my bike against the rack and place the lock as usual, taking a step back to look at my most recent work, one which I am kinda proud of.

Goodbye the plain look of Hikigaya Hachiman's bike, resembling a old woman's bicycle from the 60's! Rise and shine from those ashes, my creature, for I gave you a new life by using the remaining bits and pieces I kept from your old corpse!

Pitch black frame, new mountain bike 24" wheels and tires, no more basket nor mudguards, slightly reshaped pedals and handlebars. Lowered saddle, tweaked brakes for better response, and two small yet effecient headlights, one on the fork a few inches above the tire, and the other underneath the saddle. The last feature was a complete change of the original fork, adapting with a BIT of elbow grease the system of a BMX, allowing Barspins and Tailwhips should I ever find a spot where I can practice by myself.

Two things I remember from that day was how much of a hassle it was, and the shocked beyond belief of watching Komachi, frozen at witnessing an event that could be an announcement of the Apocalypse: her brother was WORKING!

Overall, gone was the monstrosity and welcomed was the change to a more 'sport' yet sober vibe, tested and ready machine for a bit of street riding every once in a while. As lazy as I can be, even I have my own limits when it comes to stay locked inside a house. I'm young again dammit, I NEED to take advantage of it.

But right now, as I get some occasional glances and glares from the daily commute of the imbeciles surrounding me known as 'students', as expected of the most hated guy in school, I also see those idiots looking at my new and improved bike, then back at me.

No doubt this will cause some whispers and rumors like: 'Hey, do you see the creep? He changed his bike! Does he think he will be cooler that way?' or some shit along those lines. Heh, as if I'd care!

That said though, they better not try to do anything stupid to my steed, or else...

They might get more than what they bargained for.

Eventually, the day goes in a blink, and before I know it, I am in front of the Clubroom, my right hand shaking ever so slightly at the idea of opening the door and confronting the people that are inside. Oh yes, I know they all came, including Komachi and Haruno, because you see, I've been re-using my little wireless camera from my mask and doll, sneakily placed inside said classroom, and saw everyone entering while I was hiding in the least spot they would expect me to be: the bathroom of this floor!

I shove it open in one move, and enter before closing it behind me, seeing all eyes on me now. I can still back off from it, but I won't, even if it's making my pulse and heartbeat rising. The confidence I had while opening they door seems to have been almost completly sapped by the object I'm now standing in front of.

"Alright, first of all thanks for coming. No need to stand up since I'm no teacher, despite the fact that I'm going to teach you a bit of a lesson today, a lesson of History to be more specific. So with that, I'm asking for three things from everyone and I hope it isn't too much: First of, when I give the signal for Start and Finish, I would like to be able to speak without being interrupted, even if you have questions, I'll answer them either during the explanation or once I'm done. Second, please keep an open mind, I am not bullshitting you in any way shape or form, every single thing you will hear and see is the truth."

I make sure to take a bit of time to speak, looking at everyone staring back at me with confused looks or agreeing with nods. I then pocket out my phone out, and make the signal to keep quiet before raising my index in front of my lips while pushing a button on my phone that starts a pre-recorded message.

"Thirdly, now that everyone is here, I want you to be aware that no matter what, the things that happened, whether good or bad up until today, none of that was our fault, whatever you did or said. It is a part of Life itself that you have to accept, even if it is difficult sometimes and you want to take the blame/responsability for it. Trust me, I've been doing this long enough to know that it will slowly but surely break your sanity and be harmful in the long term."

While the message was playing, I tiptoed my way towards the door, moving as carefully and silently as a ghost, and when I was an a few inches away from it, I knew I would have to act swiftly. My timing has to be impeccable or else, it could compromise the entire thing.

Releasing a calming breath, then taking a sharp intake of air, I move quickly my hands, open the door and exit the clubroom.

A second after I exited the clubroom, a high-pitched feminine yelp could be heard, followed by a muffled collision against the wall.

As I re-enter, I drag along with me a surprise, unexpected and nearly unwelcomed, though I have to say, had I been completly oblivious and an idiot, you would most likely have gotten away with your spying on me...

Sagami Minami...

"Sagamin? What are you doing here?" Yui exclaimed in shock, as she saw her former friend, and still commitee chairman of the festival, her arms locked behind her back, taken hostage by Hachiman who keeps a firm grip on her wrist with one hand.

He approaches the lined-up tables where everyone was sitting at, and nodded to Shizuka, who handed him what looked like... keys?

Releasing the red-brownish haired girl, who looked back at him with anger while rubbing her wrists, he calmly walked back to the door and locked it, before pocketting the keys, and his phone.

Hikigaya POV

"I know you pretty much hate me Sagami-san, but I do have to commend and praise you for one thing: you've been growing!"

"What do you mean by that?" She asked, growled lowly, glaring at me, earning confused stares and glared between myself and her.

"Before I answer your question, since you came here of your own volition and now that you're here, why not take a seat and stay? I mean, the reason why you did come here after all is in that very clubroom, the very truth to all the questions you've been asking yourself."
She looked back at the present persons, and saw that all but one chair were occupied, except for the one that was facing the tables, obviously reserved for him. But why?

"Why leaving a chair empty you might ask? Simple, I knew you would be coming, spying at the door on this rather private conversation between me, and the people I have invited. You're going to ask me next how I figured what you were thinking? Your facial expression gave you away, it's that easy."
Sagami let out a loud and very unlady-like snort before reaching the empty chair, and sitting on it.

"Now that we are ALL here, I'll want to make another point but that would be my personal 'request' as instigator of this 'exceptional event' as one might call it. I want to make sure that you ALL will keep to yourselves, and yourselves alone what you will hear and witness. What is said in this clubroom doesn't leave the walls of this clubroom... Not without dire consequences..."

The tone of my voice conveys my message in a low and cold, deadly fashion, showing how serious I am about this, something that doesn't go unnoticed by my audience.
I don't really pay attention as to who nods in agreement and who doesn't, because I have in my mind a way to threaten each and every single one of them should they consider stabbing me in the back. But not that they know, for now at least...

"Very well. As you may or may not be aware of, I have been a little bit less my 'usual self' those past few weeks, the Hikigaya Hachiman who is perceived in the eyes of many as a selfish asshole, a cynical loner who doesn't meddle in other's business and is perfectly content to be left on the side, free to hate society and the masses along with their stupid norms and rules. I assume most if not all of you know what I'm talking about."
It doesn't take long before they give me confirmation, and I sit in my chair, a table used as a desk to rest my elbows upon.

"As some may say, for quite some time now, I have been wearing what you could call a 'mask' of sort. A lot of people do that nowadays, although for different reasons. Most often than not, people do it as a coping mechanism, while others do it for the sole purpose of pleasing the masses in a very hypocritical way, or even to satisfy their own egos. I did that very thing using what could be considered the first option, however, it couldn't be further away from the truth."

"The reason I have been acting the way I've been recently, considered less and less 'normal' for Hikigaya Hachiman is because, despite this body saying the contrary, I am not Hikigaya Hachiman!"

As soon as the bomb was dropped, the appropriate reaction to this action happened as planned when gasps, mouths opened and hands raised upwards, wanting to refute the statement.

I raise my bandage left hand next to my face, and send a slight glare, before lowering my hand back to the wooden surface of the table.

"First and foremost, this isn't a joke, I am absolutely and completly serious about this matter. That is why I have to humbly apologize to you Hikigaya Komachi, and have to formally inform you of your older brother's tragic and untimely passing." I say while standing up, before bowing with my forehead touching the floor in her direction.

I can hear the young girl gasping and muttering things along the lines of 'It's not real, Onii-chan can't be...'.

I stand up after half a minute, sitting again and recomposing myself, going onwards with my story.

"I am unfortunately telling you nothing but the truth, as sad as it is. Take it as you wish, but there are no lies coming out of my mouth, not anymore. That is why I called you today, because I am tired and angry to keep everyone in the dark about who I really am and what happened over a year ago."
I can see Yui and Yukino tensing as soon as I finish my sentence. They know by now what I am refering to, most likely.

"On the very day Hikigaya Hachiman was on his way to enter this very high school, he was riding his bike when he saw a dog in the middle of the road. Not only that, but a car was coming from the dog's right side, and mostly wasn't about to dodge nor stop itself. Hikigaya Hachiman then decided, as the black limousine was dangerously making its way towards the animal to rescue the canine, at the cost of his own safety... and life."

"What should have been a mere broken leg for him ended up him losing his life at such a young age, but not before reaching the hospital. The car in question was the propriety of the Yukinoshita family, and inside of it was an unaware Yukinoshita Yukino, on her way too, to this high school. In that regard, none of the Yukinoshita present right here can't, or are to be held as accountable for the death of Hikigaya Hachiman, and I insist very heavily on that."

"What took place that day shouldn't have occured, and I myself still have no answers as to why or what lead to the predicament I am in today. According to what has been told to me when I, the person who posted as Hikigaya Hachiman, woke up, Hikigaya Hachiman was declared 'clinically dead' while the body was maintained in a coma-state like. The staff said themselves that it was an unseen event. As soon as you die normally, your heart stops beating, your brain shuts off, and your entire body 'collapses', but instead in this instance, the body kept sending living signals despite the 'soul', the very 'core' of the being was already gone. In a desperate attempt at trying to resurrect the deceased, they place his body in an induced coma."

I regain my breathing due to the mouthful I have been spouting up until now, and I see many expressions on faces and eyes, from sadness, guilt, confusion, disbelief...

"As previously mentionned, I am not Hikigaya Hachiman, but someone who was alive at some point, and lived his life until I too, met my end and died. Needless to say how surprising and unexpected it was for me to close my eyes and releasing my last breath before following the now famous 'light at the end of the tunnel' on my way to whatever is after you die, and realizing that said light was the bright color of a hospital room's ceiling. Not just this, but considering that I was European during my lifetime, I definitely knew something was wrong when I saw asian faces all over 'my' bedridden body, incredulous to witness a teenager coming back from to the world of the Living after being pronounced 'clinically dead'. Oh, and spare me the never-ending series of questions in a language that wasn't my own, that I had 'learned' in my past only through the viewing of japanese animes, and yet, I understood and spoke it fluently as if it was my mother tongue, despite the fact that I couldn't even make a complete sentence beforehand."

"I then learned that the cause of death was a cranial trauma, internal bleeding inside the skull that they managed to fix while the body was maintained in the coma. But it was too late already, the boy that passed the front gate had died, and now, someone else who didn't ask for this was in his place, not that the fools knew it of course... The damage was done, Hikigaya Hachiman was gone, and for whatever reason the Universe saw as legitimate, I was left up to pick the pieces! I had lived my life, turned adult, fell ill, died and was completely uncaring about that, only to wake up in someone else's body. That sounded like the start of a stupid Isekai story written by a drunk and single guy on a Valentine day's night, to drown his sorrow because he couldn't get laid and had too much delusions in his mind rather than good ideas. The worst part of it was that, for me, all of this was real..."

I lean back in my chair, and settle my gaze on the the clubroom's ceiling, hearing nothing but the complete and deafening silence all around, not even a whisper, a sign of life.

"I had been through a lot, a life of shit, was perfectly fine with the outcome of my actions and inactions, and yet, for some dumb fucking reason that evades my mind, I couldn't get the eternal rest I was supposed to receive. I wasn't suicidal, far from it! I like living and would've wished to stay alive longer if I hadn't been confronted with that shit-ton of crap, but that was denied from me, and instead, I was now placed in the recently departed body of a teenager who made one 'social suicide' too many. I had to fill the shoes of an older brother, a high schooler, eldest child of the family, and the only help that I was provided with was his memories still stocked inside his brain, with mines that I brought along during the ride. I learned that barely twenty minutes had passed before 'I' flatlined and I regained consciousness. Since no one could explain how such a thing was possible, they simply said in their official report that I fell into a micro-coma due to the trauma before waking up perfectly fine afterwards."

I push back the chair slightly, picking up a sport bag from underneath the table, and zipped it open to place a few of the items inside on the wooden top. A bottle of water, a small bowl, a towel, a laptop with its charger, and a usb cable. Placing the laptop on the right low corner of the table, I open the bottle of water, taking a sip of it before filling the bowl halfway through. Then, using the towel, I dabbed it into the water, and cleaned my face of the familiar makeup I always use to conceal my real face.

"This" I say as I place the towel down and point my left index finger towards my revealed face. "Is the result of countless nights searching for an explanation, any possible answer or scenario that could've lead up to the situation I was now in. It eventually evolved into insomnia at some point, considering I spent literal months trying to figure something that I realized was out of my reach, and abandonned. But as you can see, the marks are here and I don't know if they are permanent or will disappear in the future, but for now, no progress on that topic."

I stand up, pick up the bowl with water in it, and after opening the window, empty the contens outside, before placing the item back on the bag below the table, making my way towards the closet at the back of the room. I open the doors and pull another sport bag out of it, showing it to everyone as I hold it high in the air, and close the door behind me with the bag still in hand.

As I can hear the confusion growing even further outside of the cramped closet, I emerged a minute or two later, with new clothes, or perhaps familiar to some people. I also grab hold of my guitar case and a now Sobu High covered item that looks quite big in size under my other arm.

Placing the guitar case on the table without knocking off the laptop, I unlock it while placing the other item on the floor next to the bag with the empty bowl and towel inside. I turn the case and open it to face my audience, flabbergastered when they connect the dots and witness someone they had seen before, on the internet.

I place my right hand on the neck of my Gibson Les Paul Custom, and show it to them, to prove that this guitar, this instrument is the real deal, and the owner of this beautifully crafted piece of wood can only be one person...

"That is correct, I am that one popular anonymous guitarist on the internet who does covers of famous songs, and original ones as well. This, is my trusty partner, that I was forced to buy online due to the numerous customizations to it that can't be done by going into a store. From the color and pattern of the top, the golden tuning machines, the pickups, the binding on the body and along the neck, not to mention it is a left-handed model, it costs quite a lot of cash... Fortunately for me, not only my long acquired skills remained, I also quickly found a way to earn some money legally, and it was a very tiresome job to collect enough to pay for this. But at the end of the day, it was totally worth the grind and painful tasks, which I won't reveal."

I let out a genuine smile as I look again at the instrument in my hand, and place the strap on my shoulder, gently plucking the 'nickel plated steel nanoweb 10-46' strings, playing a few chords before sitting on my chair again, this time in front of the table.

"When I was in middle school, I met someone who became my best friend, up until my last breath. A chill guy, someone who wouldn't hurt a fly, yet came from halfway through the country we lived in. He played an acoustic guitar while I was able to borrow one from 'someone', but the thing was, I realized very fast that playing in the same position he was, right-handed, wasn't for me. Now I know what you're thinking: 'What is the difference between left-handed and right-handed?'. Playing the guitar right-handed mean you do the chords with your left hand, and pluck the strings with your right, and the opposite for a left-handed like me. But the absurdity in all of this? I am right-handed, meaning my right hand is my dominant one, and because of that, I am have more strength, speed, dexterity, and it's just natural. Now that isn't uncommon to learn that some famous guitarists have the same 'issue' as me, but the thing to keep in mind is that since left-handed guitarists are less popular and numerous, the price tag isn't the same, and the selection of models and colors is quite... restrictive."

"And so, due to my encounter with this blonde-haired guy who wasn't a fraud like someone we all know here, but was a true friend to me, I started playing the guitar, and became decently good at it. Throughout the years, I collected a few of them, and drowned myself in music. As cheesy, corny and stupid sounding as it is, my guitars became my friends too, my passion, my lovers even one of my sole remaining interests as I delved deeper in an abyss that would ultimately claim me." I say with a hollow chuckle at the end, staring at the beautiful instrument in my lap with dull eyes.
"The cause of death, for me, if I have to take a guess since it happened while I was falling asleep in my bedroom? I'd say cardiac arrest, probably. There are many diseases in the World, but one that is deadly and overlooked? Depression."

I can hear the ever-so subtle and continued surprise when I mention the very thing that most likely ended up taking my life.

"'How long have I been depressed?' I always asked myself towards the end. A decade? Two? From birth maybe? What triggered it? In thirty years of life, I assume I spent at least two thirds, two entire decades suffering from depression, but since it comes in many forms and stages, it went undiagnosed for a long time. Of course, they were many events that helped that silent disease creeping its way through me, but the nail in the coffin, so to speak, was when I fell physically ill due to one to many mistakes... A girl. Heh... 'Mononucleosis' as it is called scientifically, most commonly known as 'Kissing sickness'. A form of hepatitis that destroys most if not all of your white cells, your immune system. From birth, I was already frail in terms of health and often fell sick, but with that on top? Little by little, adding the medication for my depression, my internal organs started getting damaged, mainly stomach, liver and gall bladder. Some times, I would find blood mixed up with my saliva, or my digestive system would feel fucked up. Frequent headaches with ophthalmic migraines on a mensual basis... One by one, those things piled up with the daily shit I also had to deal with my 'family', or what was left of it. That's part of the reason why I felt calm and almost welcomed my death when it came..."

I place my right hand behind my head as I leaned back in my chair still staring at the ceiling, my left hand laying on top of the treasure in my lap.

"And then, when I finally think I can rest and be done with the World, its people and the shit that comes along, I end up waking up in someone else's body who, by all means, shouldn't have died. But I guess a little fucker commonly known as God, wanted to have some entertainement and simply couldn't grant me my desire. Heh, that cocksucking son of a bitch may as well be watching us as we speak, and laugh his mighty ass off as I am explaning all of that to you. I wouldn't be surprised if it was the case, and that is something that comes out of the mouth of a thirty years old atheist!" My voice is laced with sarcasm as I let out another dark chuckle.

I place the guitar back into its case very carefully and lock it back, go to plug in the laptop's charger in the wall while connecting my phone to said laptop by using the usb cable. Pulling up the screen of the larger device and searching for a very specific folder located inside the phone, I lift up the former and put it on the closed guitar case, the screen facing the sitting persons, with a full-sized image of someone they never saw before.

"Ever since I woke up, my mind was harassed constantly by questions, hypothesis, theories of all kind, yet there was one, a single one I kept in the back of my head and never wanted to have an answer for it. Eventually, with time, my natural curiosity got the best of me, and I ventured on the depths of the internet. It didn't take long, but the first time I saw this again... I was at a loss on how to react."

The picture on the screen was of someone who didn't looked Japanese, rather caucasian, pale complexion with two dark brown orbs hidden behind rectangular blue half-rimmed glasses, a pair a thin lips surrounded by an untrimmed and short goatee, middle length dark brown, borderline black hair untamed with a few short bangs framing his oval-shaped face.

The most striking feature however was that not only he barely looked over his teenager years, but has that very serious expression on his face, bringing out of his eyes a sharp mind and maybe even a high level of intelligence.

"I had almost completly brushed off the probability of this being possible, but I concluded two things when I saw this picture: either I was thrown back in time in my own Universe, or... I was placed in an alternative reality, eerily similar to mine, which could explain not only why, but also how I am still alive right now, on the other side of the globe, in the exact same physical condition and location I was in until the day I died. There's one thing I'm most thankful for though, and it's the fact that me and him will never meet in this life, for if we do..."

My tone turned dark, and the temperature in the room became colder as my gaze switched into a glare towards the photo on display.

"...I'll put a bullet into his head, and kill him! So that way, it won't be considered suicide if I'm the one doing it. I'll just save my self from future troubles."

If by now, most if not all of the persons sitting in the clubroom haven't guessed already the identity of the stranger, the intense glare I display is slowly shifted to their general direction.

"That's right! This, is who I was 7 or 8 years ago, give or take a few months, at this point in my life. And it seems it is who I still am."