Crossover between Oregairu / My Teenage Romantic Comedy SNAFU and Satou-san Who Sits Next to Me
Disclaimer: characters are property of ponkan8 and Watari Wataru and Morisaki Yuruka and Sumie.
Candidate One:
Hayama Hayato
He thinks that it's kind of bothersome to sit next to her. But he keeps quiet because he's Hayama Hayato and the world is on his shoulders. Or at least, that's how the world makes him feel. And mostly because in the end, he thinks it's more bothersome for her than for him, given how many glares he knows are sent in her direction.
He glances over at her and keeps his laughter to himself as she hums a quiet tune all to herself while peeking out the window. Spring has a lot of birds, he supposes. But the local ones aren't special. Not to him, or to any of their other classmates.
But the way she looks at them, it's like they have the secrets to the universe tucked beneath their wings and sung throughout their chirps. Her eyes are mesmerized by the sight; the evidence, her giggles. She's lost in the clouds and he kind of envies her loose-headed ways and light view of the world. Why couldn't he have been born into a situation that afforded such?
His brows rose as he watched her switch to fiddling with a pencil, scribbling doodle after doodle. All of a sudden, she snaps to attention when the teacher's gaze passes over her before it quickly disappears. At her sigh of relief, he snickers and she flushes, her mouth forming the shape of a small "o." Shyly, she turns away, now aware that he's been watching her.
But surprisingly, each time she's realized it, she never stops doing whatever she does, nor does it make her ever really awkward around him. Rather, it doesn't make her any less or more awkward than before, and he's kind of grateful for that.
In truth, it's really not that bad being seated next to this girl, though he will never admit that to anyone. He catches another look at her and sighs. How does she function? It makes no sense. This is the twenty-first century and there's someone like her still around. She's really just a boring person. Slow, but kind. Soft dark hair, typical of Japanese girls; gentle smiles and soft eyes. She's clumsy and doesn't understand the world around her, but she smiles, laughs, and just lives.
Okay, so maybe he's jealous. Or rather, is it just envy? He's not sure at this point, but the way she lights up when she laughs… he wishes he could do that. Or just capture it.
He knows he's been caught staring for too long when he catches Tobe's dumb grin and Yumiko's unfortunate evil eye. He resists the urge to pinch his nose and avoids both of them, only to have his eyes drawn back to that plain Jane.
The rest of the school day passes without trouble, but he finds himself tired as he addresses the words and people around him. When Yumiko makes to speak with him, he tells her no; he's too tired, he says. His eyes wander quickly and they light up when he realizes there is actually something he has to get done. He tells her that, actually, he has to speak to Hina. Yumiko's responding pout is angrier than it is cute, which, now that he thinks about it, is much more of a trend nowadays.
Nonetheless, she accepts and harrumphs her way away, the rest of the clique following after. He lets out a sigh of relief and sinks into his chair. His Fujoshi friend hums and laughs, but tells him in a cutting voice that he shouldn't be so mean to Yumiko.
"'When it all comes down to a sunrise on the Eastside, will you be there to carry home...'"
He blinks. Huh. That voice is beautiful. But more than that, it is clear and sunny, strong and powerful. It is also accented, but not by much. He hasn't heard someone so fluent before. He hears some more singing carry its way down the hall and he quietly paces himself as he realizes it's coming from his classroom.
He peeks his way through the slit between the door and its frame and finds himself staring at Satou-san, humming away as she works on what was probably some more remedial work.
She sings the words again and his heart skips. The humming turns into a thundering in his chest and his throat is dry like the desert; his eyes can't find any other center of focus besides the normally reserved girl singing her heart out as she goes from page to page.
It's the most pleasant scene he's ever witnessed.
There's a gasp that breaks the air and the widening of her eyes as she catches the hitch in his throat and he knows it's too late to run. Flushing red, he pries open the door and stutters an apology.
This is a first, he thinks. She's nervous and stuttering, but he supposes that's natural when someone's embarrassed. Satou-san fiddles with her pencil and pretends to go back to work but the two of them are students; they know when the other is just fooling about.
She stutters into a question and asks him why he's here; he shrugs and says he forgot something in the room. He turns it around and asks Satou-san what it is that she's doing in the room so late, alone and scribbling when she should be home.
Her smile falls off her face. She tries to plaster it back on but it's brittle and he bristles for reasons he can't quite understand; why would a girl like her seem afraid? She lets out a sigh and turns back to her papers, scratching against them with her pencil until a minute later she whispers that she's always held back because she's too slow.
The teachers, she tells him, don't want to wait up for her. And they can't bother to stay behind. So she often gets things wrong, particularly in maths and sciences, and they just call her aside after everyone's gone to reprimand her. At this point, she's not sure what she can do; and from what she tells him, apparently the teachers aren't either.
And suddenly there's anger. Her treatment is like clockwork; it's routine and scheduled, almost like it's been accounted for and written off, swept under the rug but blatantly open in front of everyone's eyes. Hayato's mind goes back and he realizes that ever since he's been in this class, Satou has always been one of the names written on the board for cleaning the class. Hell, he realizes, he's stayed behind several times and never seen or thought that she was essentially being bullied into her position by her teachers.
He sits himself down and the girl almost jumps, but she recenters herself easily enough. He glances at her notes and notices immediately that she's three days behind. At the rate she is going, she would never catch up - the teachers surely know that much already. The material they had just covered that school day is much more difficult and relies heavily on previous knowledge and understanding to even begin its comprehension.
Hayato pulls out a notebook from underneath his desk and begins to write notes. He takes one more look at the girl sitting next to him before he quiets down and starts scribbling. This isn't some Mona Lisa or any guide to the universe, but he's trying. They aren't careful, nor are they serious, but he does make sure to write down the things he thinks are important. From time to time, he glances up at her and sees that look of consternation and for some reason it pushes him even harder.
After what feels like half an hour, he slides over his work and almost shocks the girl into silence as he begins to teach her. It is long, it is hard, and it is a stiff process. Frustrating to the nth degree. She's not a very good learner; he's not a great teacher. But it takes two to tango and eventually, they reach the same wavelength along the stage.
The slowness of his efforts draw him back as he reels over the plastic mask to use as a curtain for his thoughts. The girl he's helping is none the wiser, instead insistently apologizing and understandably nervous.
He starts to think about why he's doing this and where his earlier anger came from. He wonders if it's projection and after a few minutes, he chalks it up to that. No matter what he does, he's been taught, it's never good enough. It never was; it never is.
And maybe, just maybe, that's the reason why he thinks it's cruel for people to treat Satou-san like this. Particularly when others have the power to change it. And perhaps that is the reason why, in this position when he is one with that power, he takes the leap.
Of course, the mess of psychology that is Hayama Hayato's mind cannot make any solid conclusions.
For all the smiles that he wears, Hayato knows he is not a patient person, but he remains and thinking about it gives him the inklings of a headache so he just stops and instead thinks about how to get this over with. This is worse than he thought and for the briefest moment, he can understand how and why the teachers are so cruel to such a girl. But the thought disappears and instead, he is filled with the notion that he needs to see this through. Perhaps, he muses, it is out of pity. Hayama Hayato is not a caring person. Hikigaya Hachiman noticed as much; so why is it, he thinks, that no one else does?
Satou-san takes another hour of his life. Then another. Finally, when it is deep past the evening and a little into night, they are finished. He is about to say something but the look in her eyes calms his words before they even take root.
She is the very visage of relief and relaxed. And it is in that moment that he thinks he sees something beautiful. For the tiniest of instances, Satou has captured in her essence the image of this something that he can't quite frame into words. It's not beauty in the sense that she's any more appealing than Yumiko or any other girl, nor is it a beauty that evokes any lust.
But it's there nonetheless and it clicks for him as he sees her smile at him: it's resolve.
He realizes that the entire time she's been next to him, she, Satou-san, the most frank, straightforward girl of his class, has been braving her fears of failure and wearing a mask because she was feeling the weight of expectation from someone she did not want to disappoint. Before he can stop himself, he asks why she pushed herself so hard just now.
And without hesitation, she replies that it was because he was by her side and helping her; how could she let someone down when that person actually tried to be there for her?
He can tell from her eyes that there's not a single lie and for some reason that makes everything burn. Her words leave a thumping in his chest as he flushes slightly and tries to laugh off her praises. The girl shakes her head and thanks him again. He swallows thickly, unused to such.
They make it to the school entrance before they head in different directions. As he waves goodbye to the cheerful girl, he convinces himself that this is going to be a one-time thing.
It isn't.
But it is the least of Hayama Hayato's worries. In between classes and his other obligations, he finds that his levels of stress shoot through the roof and he digs through his contact lists lazily but frantically as he searches for an outlet. He can't figure out who to talk to and the thought that he might have to tell one of his friends the things eating him up is killing him.
He hates it.
But he can't control it; he was always horrible at that. He knows his acting is half-rate because the lies are as plastic as his smiles, stretched so thinly that they might snap at any moment. It only gets worse when Yumiko tries harder and harder each day to corner him after football practice or just before and the excuses are so worn down that she looks like she's about to lose it.
There aren't any tears but he sees her eyes glaze over with a sheen that reminds him so much of brutal honesty that he flinches whenever she takes off. It gets so bad that even Tobe notices and pulls him aside. Tobe, who tells him that as his not-smart friend, he shouldn't be so easily able to see that there are huge problems in the friend group.
Hayato's smile breaks a little more after that.
The tension builds for weeks until he is removed from the football team; he announces it as a resignation instead, but he knows that factors outside the small comfort of his school life are intruding once again. His family pulls him from the things he once had time to indulge in and they plaster his face into meetings with business partners and clients alike, especially those with daughters, and he feels restless, unable to sleep at night.
Eventually, however, he finds himself situated with Haruno at one affair, just the two of them, which hasn't happened since he was nearly eleven. They talk; and it surprises him how less put-together she is than he imagined. He realizes that Yukinoshita Haruno is as human, as fallible, as brittle, as Hayama Hayato and the thought is so jarring that she laughs when he tells her, unable to keep it buried inside.
It's the image she's cultivated for herself and she isn't at all surprised, she tells him. And just like that, it's like the magic vanishes. Haruno is beautiful - stunning, enchanting, seductive; all those, still - but now the lines of wear and tear threaten their creases along the shadows of her face and he wonders how even seconds ago they seemed completely invisible to him.
She's weak, his mind tells him. But then, he admits, so is he. He opens up with the small things in life and neither of them notice that the hours pass until Haruno glances down at the watch on his wrist. They've had each other's numbers for a long time but now the two of them wonder why they never got along at all. Then they remember the incident.
He confesses that he knew it would make things awkward between Haruno, Yukino, and himself, but at the time, eleven years old and a lost boy, Hayama Hayato thought the world revolved around the elder Yukinoshita sister and wanted to try for something. As they sit and remember the event, neither of the two think on it much; it is not a fond memory, but it is not as bitter or revolting as they recall and Haruno laments her actions, says as much to him and gives his hand a comforting squeeze. He catches her eye and smiles.
The answer has been here all along, right at his fingertips. He asks her if she wants to be friends and Yukinoshita Haruno laughs again, her wonderful trill dancing a new tune to his ears.
Things quiet down and they trade stories about their life when suddenly his phone pings and his eyes rise as he reads his newest message; the girl sitting across from him hums and asks him, politely of course, just exactly who it is that could have Hayama Hayato smiling. Her sense, she tells him, knows that it is a girl. Said senses, she elaborates, also knows that there is something charming about her. At least, to him.
He doesn't blink or bat an eye and just tells Haruno that this girl is just a friend. Somewhat. More than anything, she is simply someone who sits next to him during the school day.
But by the end of the night, Yukinoshita Haruno is able to tell him that she knows all of this 'Satou-san's' interactions with Hayama Hayato and the reality that he knows so much about her in relation to him means that he's more than just interested, even if he doesn't know it.
When he says nothing, does nothing but sit and ponder, he feels himself frowning. He looks up into her eyes and finds no judgment and he thinks that he's grateful that Yukinoshita Haruno is who she is. But also, that she's wrong. Satou-san is satou-san, he tells her; that's that.
She sighs, only giving him a pitying look.
The rest of the night melts away and as he lays in bed, he contemplates Haruno's fleeting visage as he rolls around until sleep finally comes for him.
When he's put on duty to stay after school and help clean up, he shrugs and accepts because he doesn't mind having an excuse to stay away from the people he somewhat associates with and it also allows him reprieve because he doesn't have to go back to an empty house.
Not that it's only his house that's been empty. His circle of friends has shrunk and it has noticeably impacted the social hierarchy, though to what extent he doesn't know, nor does he care. Instead, he's worried about what he'll need to do if he ever intends on making things up. Big if, there. He hasn't talked to Yumiko in nearly a week, Tobe in two days, and Hina in four. Yui, surprisingly, or perhaps not so much, still messages him every day.
In a way, it's both sad and refreshing. Almost as much as it is to do the mundane things in life, such as cleaning his classroom with his neighbor Satou-san.
"'Manage me, I'm a mess; turn a page, I'm a book, half unread. I wanna be laughed at, laughed with, just because; I wanna feel weightless, and that should be enough.'"
Hayato's not sure why those words hurt because he feels a twang against his heart as he hears them. He knows Satou-san is just singing, but he's not sure if she understands what she's singing. Instead of asking, though, he tells her that she missed a spot, causing her to squeal and eep out an apology to which he laughs. She stammers and stutters; he moves next to her and starts talking about the smallest of things.
They start another conversation from there and it takes off with him learning that Satou-san likes to be thorough when she cleans because she feels that if she doesn't put her all into what she does, she doesn't feel like she can live the next moment happily. Just like the words she sang, she tells him she wants to clear her day, clear her mind, and clear her vision because she wants to be satisfied with herself. No matter how slowly or how painstakingly, she does her part, she tells him. It is not about trying to be the best, she laughs. It is about knowing that you will never live to let yourself down.
And those words are like magic; he takes another look at her and he feels breathless. He's pretty sure he knows why, but his heartbeats play him like a fool with each thump. What he's also sure of is that every smile he sends her way isn't one he has to put on. They are ones he wants to show off.
After that, he finds that he has no problem volunteering to stay behind every three days. Then it becomes every other. Then it becomes an everyday thing. Which he sees no issue with. The company is pleasant, after all.
He comes to learn that she likes singing, that it makes her feel freer than the birds in the sky. It's something that makes her smile, something that guides her to laughter, something that lets her be. It's not so much an expression so much as it just is. So much of the typical girl is her all the time, her as she is, that it's not really anything revealing.
They share a lot nowadays, but they don't share everything. When it comes to his lack of friends, he can tell she wants to know but she refuses to pry and holds herself back. It's a bit sweet, actually. Not that it's really much of a secret - she just seems to never have an interest in gossip, rumors, or others other than what she knows about them due to her own interactions.
It's not a game of thrones with her. In fact, it's not even a game at all. And he likes that. A lot. Mostly because it makes it easy to be around her, to take breaths and sighs and lean into a chair with anyone keeping an evil eye over him, scrutinizing his every act.
She asks him quite often if he needs any help and he knows that each time she asks, it's real and not a call for attention in any way whatsoever. When she frowns at him, it isn't because he's doing something she doesn't agree with (most of the time). While they sit and talk about the mundane things or relax together, there's no call to attention that he or she has to get x done or to have y point been gotten across. It's never a game with her except when they play with two players on equal footing that aren't really gaming so much as they are playing and he wonders if this is the friendship he's always wanted.
It's at this point in his life that he realizes he's really friends with her. The idea sends a jolt down his spine as he wonders how close he really is to her and he reflects. They say it's the small things in life that stand out and he's starting to memorize Satou-san, bit by bit. Or so he'd like to think. There are so many days where she does something that just catches his eye and he can't help but stare or laugh. When she flushes and pouts at him, he can't help but snicker.
They exchange messages in class more than they do out of it and yet somehow it seems like their talks outside of the classroom drag on for longer than the time they have together in person. It confuses him but he chalks it up time being perception and that his reality has just expanded its horizons in ways that throw him off because he has started to throw off the shell of Hayama Hayato.
"'Don't make this easy; I want you to mean it...'"
Why do you like them so much, he wants to ask. But he doesn't. Instead, he raises a brow and smiles at her, watching her lost in her own little world. Again. For the nth time, for the nth day.
Satou-san is too much of a blunt persona to be anything but honest. Yet there is just this something to her that catches his eye and it is a feeling that he's just found is pleasant. He realizes how odd that might sound but it doesn't matter - that honesty is refreshing in the face of fakeness and suddenly, it all hits him in the gut and he stumbles, even though he's just sitting.
The scratching of chair against floor causes Satou-san to stop her singing and look at him with wide eyes. Before she can ask if he's okay, he assures her that he's fine. It's only then that he also realizes when she smiles at him, it's a hint of that something he always sees in her that melts into a full-blown picture that takes his breath away.
The words are in his head before he can stop them: her smiles are genuine.
There aren't any hidden motives behind them. There aren't words she has to hide. There aren't looks she's keep hidden behind lidded eyes, or a demure or brash falsetto stuck behind hitched laughs. There are no days where she doesn't just live her life and absorb the world around her into her little sphere one piece at a time, no matter how slowly, no matter how uneasily.
A few moments pass and then they settle into their typical lull; she goes from singing to humming and they sit together quietly. She asks small questions from time to time and he thinks she's got it until she asks him to check her work.
He blinks and sighs and tells her that she did about half the problems wrong. She looks like she's about to burst into tears. But she doesn't. Instead, she stifles that oncoming sniff and asks him what to do. His eyes glance up and realize how late it is and how the sun is actually setting and then they drag back down onto her and the decision is made with a resounding snap.
The seat next to her is cold but it warms soon enough as they sit together and he goes over each step of their current maths lesson one by one. In the beginning of their relationship, she would have gasped and flushed the moment he decided to put himself next to her. Now, he thinks, it's great that she can keep her mind sharp. Ironically, he is the one concerned. Their normal distance gone, he finds himself covered in a flustered heat as her shoulder touches his. It's strange, he tells himself, how he never noticed the way her freckles decorate her face or how her eyes shift as determination sets into her gaze. The way she chews her lower lip but is careful to never nibble the back end of any pen resting on them, or the way she huffs when she gets frustrated but immediately smiles as comprehension hits her.
He wonders when it was that he started to take notice of these little things about her.
"'I'm gonna break down these walls I've built around myself...'"
Satou-san stops and flushes as she recalls the rest of the words. It's a topic that they haven't really addressed between the two of them and he likes how panicked she is by it; just two weeks ago, she had no problems singing the whole song in front of him. But one week ago, he told her three little syllables and she told him that he's making a mistake by thinking she could be the one for someone as amazing as him.
His reply was to kiss her hand and then her cheek; she's exactly what he wants, he told her. And then he walked off and waited for a response the next day. Unfortunately, Satou-san became so stressed and confused that she had been sick for the past week and completely unresponsive.
If this situation happened with any other girl, Hayama Hayato would be sure to know that it's blatant rejection. But he knows this girl more than any other, save for Haruno - who was so smug about it when he admitted to her that she was, as usual, completely and totally correct - and has complete faith that she wouldn't sabotage herself just to avoid him.
So, this is the first time they've been alone in a week. And both of them are fully exposed. Satou-san looks at him with wide eyes and his never leave hers as he smiles and picks up where she left off; he's been humming along, switching songs as she does, and doesn't miss a beat. "'I wanna fall so in love with you, and no one else could ever mean half as much, to me as you do now. Together we'll move on, just don't turn around; let the walls break down.'"
He threads his fingers between hers and he feels the burn of her skin against his as he tightens her grip on her. That familiar flush crawls over her again; he tells her it's cute. It grows. He tilts his head in a direction and she follows him, their hands still linked as they slowly pace their way together. Their walk through Chiba is slow and careless, free of forethought as he lets her go from place to place, tagging along without any intent on sending her to x or y or to do a or b. Refreshing. That's what it is. Even now, after nearly a year of time with her.
No, he thinks. It hasn't been a year. Not really. It's been less than that, but it feels longer - he had known her as the girl whom he was stuck with as a seatmate for the better part of a few months. Then, somehow, things changed. Somehow, the paradigm shifted.
Or maybe, he muses, he was fixed. Moved from his position into another, placed into a spot where the stars aligned and the night wasn't as dark as before because he really has no clue how nothing in the world changed except for the fact that one day she was plain and then the next, well, she was still plain but she wasn't.
Perhaps that's just a matter of how love works. Or whatever it is that's building between them.
The road is uncertain except for the fact that it was certainly going to be hard. But, he gives her hand another squeeze and pulls her closer, not missing at all how much redder she could get, he wouldn't trade it for the world.
Notes and Acknowledgements:
I really like Satou-san Who Sits Next to Me. It's a charming manga (I've yet to read the LN) and I think it works well with the Oregairu universe. This will be a compilation of different stories in regards to Satou-san, with her always being one of the focal points in each chapter. I don't believe this has a category under FFN so I will be trying to find the most appropriate place to locate it; if there are updates, I will try to recategorize it to its best fit.
Songs quoted are from the band All Time Low - yes, I was a punk rock, pop punk kid growing up. No shame in admitting it. In order: "Coffeeshop Soundtrack," "Weightless, "Jasey Rae," and "Walls."
The three syllables that Hayama might have said refers to "aishitteru" which means "I love you;" that way, it makes sense in both Japanese and English. Technically, if you want to be nitpicky, "aishitteru" is four syllables but I've never said it slow enough that it sounds like four.
Anyways, cheers for me finishing this since it's been sitting around since July.
