a/n:

a'ight let's get this ball rolling.

It's quieter and cleaner here than the rest of the building. It seems that not many rooms are in use, apart from the Service Club. This unfortunate geography probably plays a significant factor in the club's unpopularity. It's almost like whoever decided on the location was deliberately aiming to isolate it from the rest of the school.

Halfway down the relevant corridor, Hiratsuka-sensei smoothly halts her interrogation about my anime list to ask me about something entirely off-topic.

"By the way, what do you think of Yukinoshita?"

…Could sensei be concerned about the possibility of a homicide occurring soon? Not that she would be entirely unjustified, considering our visible incompatibility from yesterday.

Great, now I'm the one concerned.

"If I don't make it, please tell my sister I loved her very much," I request with feeling, sadly thinking of my baby sister's slow realisation that her brother won't be coming home.

"Cut that out, tragic shounen hero doesn't suit you. Anyways," she clears her throat, "answer me seriously here, Hikigaya. I'm interested."

"I'm dead serious though..." Her elbow digs into my side. There's almost no effort into the attack but it sends me stumbling pathetically. She grabs onto my shoulder right before my nose takes the chance to disfigure itself. We've stopped walking. Her expression is unreadable. I look away, stomach squirming in embarrassment.

There's a brief silence.

"Well, we're not going to get along."

My teacher raises an eyebrow. "That doesn't tell me anything. Give me your general opinion."

"Don't ask me to feel anything too meaningful towards a girl I just met."

"You don't? That's surprising, I think the both of you are very similar in some ways. I'd be lying if I said I don't hope that you'll find something in each other."

I cringe. "We're not similar at all; our ways of thinking are completely different. It puts us in serious opposition to each other."

"That's fine. She'll be able to provide a different perspective to you and vice versa," she smiles tiredly, "to be honest, I worry that you guys won't be able to adapt properly in the future. It's why I collected you and Yukinoshita; I can easily keep an eye on you kids this way."

"...Ah."

"Eh, what's with that look? It wasn't obvious to you?"

"Uh, no. I just wasn't expecting you to come out and say it…" I grin uneasily, mind running.

If I don't clarify this now, it'll bother me endlessly.

"I can't speak for Yukinoshita," I start slowly, "but I'm pretty adaptable so you don't need to worry for my future like that."

If she genuinely does waste her time worrying for me then I doubt she'll take my words to heart, but by vocalising it, I planted the idea behind them in her head. Now all I have to do is provide consistent evidence to back up my claim and she'll slowly start believing it until she eventually stops seeing me as an object warranting concern. On the other hand, if stating that she worried for me was an act of courtesy rather than an honest expression of her feelings, then what I said could be interpreted as a courtesy as well.

My response should be perfect. Should.

The ensuing silence is uncomfortable. My eyes are transfixed to the floor. I find that I can't will them upwards, for some reason. I misunderstood something, didn't account for something.

"Hikigaya…" she finally speaks, voice completely devoid of the familiar lightheartedness, "I worry because I care."

It's such a cliche line. She probably got it from an anime.

My mouth opens to respond with… what, exactly? Probably a useless attempt at humor. Well, it hardly matters, seeing as my throat catches up suddenly. I can't speak. In the end, I jerk my head awkwardly, as if to tear through the atmosphere with the act alone.

A palm suddenly brushes through my hair. I look up, my eyes refusing to see her face.

"I-Okay," I force out, and my feet move on their own, slowly leaving her behind.

I quietly slide the door open. The pleasant chill of the air-conditioning greets my skin. In the middle of the room, Yukinoshita reads, body language relaxed. A moment after my entrance though, she looks up expectantly.

Recalling sensei's heartfelt confession of her hopes for us, I hesitantly raise a hand. "Yo."

"That's a strange greeting. Try again."

I give up.

"My sincerest apologies," my head tilts itself to the floor in mock respect, "I momentarily lost sight of my position. It won't happen again, I assure you."

She closes her eyes, annoyed. "Raise your head and cease this childish performance. I also notice you're still yet to greet me properly."

"That was a greeting. Accept it. Also, what was so improper about it?"

"A gesture of goodwill would do wonders to your presentation."

The comedy of my situation isn't lost on me. I entered the room less than a minute ago and have yet to sit down, and already this woman has found something completely absurd to criticize.

"My presentation," I repeat, the word sounding foreign in my mouth. "Normal people aren't so elaborate. I don't have any interest in adopting a formal attitude; something like that would just make me stand out like a sore thumb."

"Regrettably, there is no falsehood in that argument. Polite conduct seems to be of no regard to so many," Yukinoshita frowns, seeming genuinely troubled by the fact, before her voice fills with sudden purpose, "but that doesn't mean we shouldn't uphold it. The exceptional must act as an example to those lesser than them, of whom should always strive to measure up to that level and beyond."

I stare. On hearing it, some loud, instinctual part of me immediately revolts against the ideology. It sounds like the sort of thing my elementary homeroom teacher used to preach. She used to have a chart pinned next to the blackboard in our classroom. It listed everyone in our class and she'd paste cute little stickers next to a name whenever the respective person managed to do something outstanding like get a perfect score on an exam or turn in their homework first. It was a given that the one with the highest no. of stickers was the best of us, the "exceptional" as Yukinoshita would say.

Except this particular system never managed to succeed in its aim, which was to give everyone a role model, an example. To an elementary schooler, the classroom is a special, sacred place, and children at that age are just starting to come into the realization that they are always being perceived. So, expectedly, they'll do whatever they can to twist that perception to their favor and if they fail to achieve their single-minded ambitions when someone else does so in their place, then there's more than enough room for resentment to rear its entire damn body.

I don't think many people have evolved too much since their elementary years.

Additionally, any stickers I ever obtained were scratched out and mispositioned by everyone else. The teacher never seemed to realise.

"There's no such thing as exceptional." I swallow, mouth feeling bitter. "Humans are inherently flawed trash; there's no one on the damn planet who has the right to establish themselves so self-servingly. Even so, being better than everyone at something is more likely to make you disliked, and as a result, you wouldn't gather any following at all."

She sends me an indecipherable look. "I don't mean exceptional as in inherently flawless. Someone who simply appears close to the ideal will suffice. And people will be inclined to emulate someone who they themselves establish to be superior; presentation is crucial in demonstrating this superiority in order to provoke that response."

"You're generalising. It doesn't matter how exceptional you make yourself appear; not everyone will be motivated into self-improvement by that," Case in point being me , a certified expert in not giving a shit, "Why would you even decide to take up that kind of responsibility? It's obviously not well received."

"Refusing to help others on the account of not receiving any positive acknowledgement for doing so, or the risk of failing, is nothing but the act of a coward." The harshness in her voice is far too personal. It sounds like a conclusion.

"...You can't go around expecting everyone to be willing to put themselves on the line for people they don't give two shits about." I respond quietly, thinking of a boy in a classroom, his desk the only one marked with graffiti. "The world isn't like that."

"Then I'll change it," she declares, completely serious, "I'll make them see that this is the best way; the one that will yield the best results."

I'll change the world. What a ridiculous notion.

You can't, is immediately on the tip of my tongue.

The world can't be changed. Not in this lifetime. Centuries could pass and we'd still be the same self-centred, disillusioned creatures we always were. Humanity remains constant in their ways and the world remains frozen in time. Thinking otherwise is just idealistic.

But if I argue with her on this basis, nothing would ever be resolved; we'd be stuck in a never-ending loop of an argument, throwing our beliefs at each other but never being hit.

"You're not convinced," Yukinoshita murmurs, "that's fine. I'll change that as well."

I can confidently say that the minds of people are largely a mystery to me. However, I think that if I were to make a fool's attempt at jotting down the makings of Yukinoshita Yukino, this unusual determination to help people would probably make a significant part of the list. Over the course of the conversation this singular feature has slowly made itself apparent and now, I find it impossible to turn away from, yet blinding to look at. She has reaffirmed this desire repeatedly in the short amount of time we've ever interacted. Yukinoshita did not stagger when she said she would help me, she does not stagger now on saying she will help others, and I'm sure she had not staggered then when attaining her presidency of the Service Club. I want to help, is what I hear in her words and see written in the subtext.

And yet, this is precisely why I am unable to believe in her.

"...So can I sit down now?"

"No. Please keep standing, Hikigaya-kun."

I finally seat myself, on the far end of the table like yesterday. From my vantage point, I have a direct view of Yukinoshita herself, who's coincidentally seated on the opposite end. Instinctually, I find myself shifting my body away from the sight.

"Unbelievable. All that discussion over something so simple."

"Who's fault do you think that is?" I mumble accusingly.

"Who, I wonder?" She sends me an equally accusing look.

"Anyway," I start, eager to avoid the possibility of falling into the same argument all over again, "how do you plan on going about Hiratsuka-sensei's request exactly? I forgot to ask before." More like I didn't care to ask, since I didn't think she was taking the request to heart at the time.

"It's exactly as I had mentioned yesterday. For now at least, I'll simply analyse your behavior and advise you on where to improve."

"Ah. And your verdict?"

"I wasn't lying when I said your presentation needed improvement."

"Oi, my presentation is a lot better than the headache you suggested."

"Hikigaya-kun, look at me."

I blink, automatically obeying. Yukinoshita has a pleased smile on her face. "Throughout our conversations, you rarely met my eyes directly or kept yourself facing my direction. I noticed this was the case with Hiratsuka-sensei as well. From this, I concluded that you habitually look away from the people you're engaged with. It makes you seem aloof and disinterested."

"...I knew that." I didn't know it was that noticeable. "Well, if an occasion were to arise that I ever try to befriend someone, I'll be sure to look serious about it."

Her eyes widen briefly. "I had assumed you would be more averse to such an idea."

"Hm? I don't care enough to have any issues with people in general. Sure, there are certain types that I'd rather avoid during my remaining life but usually, it's them that have problems with me."

She purses her lips at that, seeming troubled. I wonder to what extent she can relate to my words. "With that in mind, we'll continue working on what we realistically can."

"My presentation again?" The word's been thrown around a sure lot today. It must be tired.

"Yes," she confirms simply, "First, your eyes."

Ah. I smile, reminiscing. "Don't bother. I've heard it all already; dead, rotten, fish-eyed. People are seriously obsessed with them. I doubt you can provide any original insight."

"It's undeniable that they have quite the unnerving quality to them. Much like a vampire… no, a zombie's, perhaps?"

"Don't twist my words into a challenge, dammit. Also, that was a new one huh…"

She smiles innocently at my affronted tone for a brief moment before turning serious. "However, they'd appear a lot better if not for those ominous-looking shadows beneath them. How well do you sleep?"

"Uh. Badly."

"As is visible," she nods, "is there an identifiable cause for the issue?"

"Yeah, it's medication related."

"Have you considered an alternative to what you're currently taking?"

"What I'm taking is the alternative. The previous ones were even worse on me."

She frowns. "What medication are you on?"

I pause, finding myself at a crossroads.

I could wave away the inquiry easily and Yukinoshita probably wouldn't press me any further, effectively saving me the discomfort of exposure. Except that would render any effort she applies into this request to be in vain; she'd be unaware of a major aspect of what she's actually dealing with and hence, she'd model her attempts without accounting for it.

Yukinoshita has decided to help me because her principles will not allow her to deny me such help, even if the task appears to be impossible. She has no personal obligation to me specifically. But even so, if I'm not honest here, the guilt will definitely eat me alive.

I sigh. Crossroads my ass.

"Le-...Uh, Escitalopram." (1)

Her eyelids stutter momentarily. "...I-I see."

My hand waves itself, forcibly casual. "Yeah, my sleep is a lost cause. It's not unbearable though, so it's okay."

"My apologies." For a hilarious moment, I almost think she's apologizing for my apparent lack of mental wellness but then she continues, "I'm afraid I can't provide you any advice there. My knowledge on SSRI usage (2) is…lacking." Her lips are down-turned.

She actually looks unhappy about not being qualified to comment on it.

a/n:

I actually have no idea how long shizuka-sensei has been a teacher but in this thing, I'm assuming she's been one for a while. In that case, how many students do you think have looked her in the eye and told her not to worry about them?

1) Escitalopram is an antidepressant, basically. Hachiman was originally going to say Lexapro, which is a brand name for it.

2) SSRis are a type of antidepressant. What Hachiman uses falls under that category.