Chapter 5: Not Genuine

Time brings healing. It also dulls memory. With enough time, you could forget anything. Now isn't that equal parts a blessing and a tragedy? But I suppose that's fine. The answer isn't black or white. Sometimes it's both, and that's just the way it is. Monologue: end.

What? I don't always ramble on needlessly.

Anyway, time had passed. It had been a few days since we trained Totsuka. I'd like to say that nothing had changed, but that just wouldn't be true. Joining the Service Club had changed quite a few things. In the first place, I had gotten around to checking on the manga I had posted. By now, it had reached almost chain mail levels of popularity. I was seeing it everywhere: it was all over Macebook, posted on a bunch of manga scan sites, and had even been translated to English and posted on a bunch of the sites used by non-Japanese folks. Of course, that had its consequences. Zaimokuza had been identified pretty quickly (wearing an overcoat in summer tends to make you noticeable). He hadn't suddenly become popular. At least not with everyone. Plenty dismissed the success of the manga as a fluke. In their minds, a "Chunii" would never write anything good. There were others who openly congratulated him, especially those with whom he had been on friendly terms already (yes, he does have acquaintances). But as a whole, his life had continued. Spurred on, he was working harder at being a writer now, and many people at school were eagerly waiting for his next work. That attention was a good thing. Zaimokuza was performing better under pressure, with a reputation now at stake. This was all well and good, and very much in line with his request.

The thing was, my name had also been on that manga. Now, I'm not quite as infamous as Yukinoshita makes me out to be. Sure, I'd had a few incidents with some people, but the vast majority of the student body wouldn't even have known my face, much less been able to connect it with my name. This had been advantageous for me, since it meant less drama. However, now, the question on everybody's lips was "who is Hikigaya Hachiman?" And everyone who did know what I looked like, was quick to answer that. Thus, when I walked down the corridors nowadays, it was quite common to see people point at me and mutter about how I was the artist behind that famous one shot. Of course, that didn't mean I was suddenly in any danger of death by snu-snu. No, I was probably even less approachable than Zaimokuza, so the mutterings remained mutterings. I did suddenly start getting a whole assload of friend requests, but that was neither here nor there, since my policy was to turn them all down.

Then, the whole Totsuka thing happened. And what might have careful approval now turned into wary hostility. The Hikigaya Hachiman who had transformed their precious Totsuka into his new version could not be forgiven. Apparently, taking the trap fantasy and helping him achieve his desire to a badass man was a great offence against the world.

Long story short, I was now as infamous as Yukinoshita had said back when we had first met.

So where people had once not looked at me, they now openly talked shit. Almost as if they were trying to start something.

I found it pretty entertaining actually.

Far from any of this being a problem, it was fucking hilarious.

I was surrounded by a school full of idiots and walking cliches, proof that natural selection had allowed for the continued existence of these caricatures in the gene pool, simply for entertainment.

Plus, if you're exploring in an area where there are random groups of people who are all hostile to you, you feel like Kazuma Kiryu, so I was living out one of my fantasies, and more than happy about it.

Anyway, that was the state of things.

There was a kind of electricity in the atmosphere of 2-F, as if everything was super charged, on the brink of some kind of climax.

Through all this, classes continued as usual, and I continued to do my studies, and everything that I wanted to.

Hiratsuka Shizuka continued to take homeroom, and teach Japanese.

But it had been a while since I had spoken to her alone. She wasn't actually around during most of the Service Club's hours, so I didn't get to meet her there often. And I hadn't written any honest essays recently either, so I hadn't been asked to see her in the staffroom either. No, all I saw of her was what I saw in class.

A part of me felt relieved.

Allowing my infatuation to grow any further would be detrimental to both of us. There was no logical way it could work, and any number of reasons to not try to go down that road.

I was still disappointed.

Initially, I had told myself that I was joining the Club to do something for her, because I respected and admired the way she was genuine in her desire to help everyone.

But maybe that was just me lying to myself.

Maybe all along, my reasons for joining were far more basic. Far more personal.

If so, I had allowed myself to get carried away.

As I said, the possibility of the Hiratsuka Shizuka route leading to a Good End was next to zero.

Yet, strangely, I was enjoying my time there.

Enjoying life in general.

Why was that, I wonder?

Well, no point thinking about it. The answers to these things show up when the time is right.

Sometime towards the end of the day, it was announced that we'd be having a workplace visit coming up. We were given a survey to fill out. The places we chose would be considered, and we would be given the chance to visit them and get a chance to learn what a profession in that line might be like.

Of course, I'd seen myself having a career as a visual artist. Doing illustrations and concept art were both good choices, and manga was also an attractive option, though perhaps a little riskier. Well, a lot of mangaka work from home studios, and would probably not appreciate an intrusion, so a visit there was out of the question. Note to self: get to know a few pros online. There's a chance they might make an exception for you if they know you. But for the moment, I duly filled out the form, asking to visit a certain studio responsible for a certain game featuring a certain Devil Hunter. I had no idea if that studio even allowed visitors, but hey. Aim high, right?

Later on, I made my way to the Service Club's room as usual.

Yukinoshita and Yuigahama were both already there.

"Late as usual, Lowlife kun," said the former.

"Yeah yeah."

The initial hostility between the two of us had reduced to an extent, probably from having worked on two requests together, and needing to have spent more time together.

Yuigahama on the other hand, blushed slightly and looked away, after muttering a quite "hi".

Unusual. Isn't she usually the one with the highest energy out of all of us?

Also, please work on your body language. You're sending me all kind of misleading signals here.

Shaking my head, I took my seat at the other end of the table.

I pulled out my phone. The plan for today was to simply watch random videos on YouTube. I've discovered so much gold this way.

As I was about to open the browser though, I received a text message from an unnamed and unknown number.

Huh. That was unusual. Apart from service messages and the like, which either have an identifying sender name or a number which I've by now memorized, this one was completely new to me. Opening it, I frowned as I read through the contents.

"Yamato bullies opponent players before matches. Tobe gets into fights around arcades. Ooka cheats and plays around with girls. What the fuck is this shit?"

Apparently, Yuigahama had gotten the same text too. She had her phone in her hand, and was looking at it, worried.

"This isn't good. It's a chainmail."

I checked, and it was indeed a forwarded message.

Forwarded rumours about three particular individuals. Someone was trying to ruin their reputations, it seemed.

Still…

"Who are these three anyway?"

Yuigahama looked at me reproachfully.

"Hikki, they're in the same class as us."

"Yeah, so?"

She shook her head.

"You're the worst."

I rolled my eyes.

"Whatever. How'd they get my number anyway? This is not cool. I need my privacy."

"Umm… Hikki, I don't think that's the problem here…"

"That is exactly the problem though."

"What about Yamato, Ooka and Tobe?"

"What about them?"

"Hikki!"

Yuigahama looked serious now, which was a rare thing for her. She was staring at me with surprising intensity.

Honestly, I didn't give the tiniest flying fuck about these three nobodies.

But Yuigahama kept that glare on me.

Wait, do I actually care what she thinks?

I stared into her normally kind eyes, that were now looking at me with almost… disappointment?

Apparently, I do.

"All right, fine! I'll look into it. Sheesh, I'm not a superhero, okay?"

Yuigahama smiled brightly, her mission accomplished.

I exhaled.

"Okay. Tell me a little about these three."

I needed to know who might be an enemy, who might have a reason to ruin these three.

"Eh? Well, okay. Tobecchi is kind of excitable, I guess? He's always high energy."

"In other words, noisy," Yukinoshita and I said at the same time.

"Yamato is always nice and gets along with everyone.

"So he agrees with everything anyone says," said Yukinoshita.

"And Ooka always knows the right thing to say in any situation," Yuigahama finished.

"A sycophant, then," I said.

Great. We have quite the trio on our hands then.

"You'll have my assistance on this one," said Yukinoshita. "Those who spread lies and rumours are the lowest of the low, and should be punished."

Admirable sentiment, but I still don't know what anyone might have to gain from shaming these three.

"Yuigahama… how do you know these three?"

"Well, we kind of hang out with the same people, I guess. I think they're friends with Hayato."

"Who's that?" I asked.

Both girls blinked. Even Yukinoshita looked surprised.

"Hikki… you're joking, right?"

"Eh, about what?"

"Hikigaya kun, I understand you are oblivious to many things, but to think that you would be this unaware of someone in your own class…"

So this "Hayato" person was someone in my class. And someone special, from how these two were talking about him.

Hmm. If he were that noteworthy, I'd at least remember his face.

"What does he look like?" I asked.

"Hayama kun is a bit on the tall side. I guess you could say most people would consider him handsome? He also has light hair, which is unusual", said Yukinoshita.

A light bulb went off in my head.

"OH! It's the idol!"

I had noticed him, of course. To be fair, he was good looking. He had blond hair too, which is indeed unusual in Japan, not to mention there are only two people in our class who have it. I think he happens to be the top scorer in my class. I've seen him carry around a kit bag, so he's probably on one of the sports teams. Football, if I had to guess. I had named him "the idol", since he kind of reminded me of idols, what with his obviously forced personality. Unsurprisingly, he was extremely popular, and the girls flocked to him.

So if I knew how social hierarchy worked, I'm guessing these 3 got some good rub by being associated with this guy.

"Is there anything else you can think of that Yamato, Tobe and Ooka have in common?" I asked.

Yuigahama thought about it for a moment.

"I don't think so," she answered. "But I don't really know them that well."

Hmm. Not very helpful.

But for the moment, Hayama was my best lead. Following up on him would be the best option, at least until I learnt more. Of course, I could simply get Zaimokuza, who was something of a tech wizard, to find out where the chain mail originates from.

But that would be taking the fun out of it.

Gotta learn to enjoy the thrill of the hunt.

This is something I pretty much got roped into doing. I might as well make sure I have some fun.

"All right, that'll do for now. Hold off on telling any teachers for now," I said to the two of them. "There are some things I want to look into. It'll be best if we decide our next move after that."

"Very well, Hikigaya kun. But make it fast. We can't wait forever."

Yukinoshita and Yuigahama both looked determined. This meant a lot to them, huh?

Did it also mean a lot to me?

Not really.

I had once been a victim of bullying and rumours myself. But I had long ago lost any interest in revenge. It would have been too easy, and it's no fun destroying opponents who can't fight back.

So this case meant nothing to me by itself.

But it mattered because it was important to Yuigahama.

Interesting. This will require some study.

The rest of the club hours for the day passed relatively uneventfully.

It was after they were over that I ran into the person I both wanted to see, and avoid.

Hiratsuka Shizuka came as we were locking up the room.

"Done for the day? You can hand over the key, Yukinoshita. Yuigahama, how are you finding the Club? I'm glad you seem to be fitting in."

I looked to the side, avoiding eye contact.

Of course, she addressed me too.

"Hikigaya… good work. You've been doing well."

"T-thanks," I muttered. I shot a glance at her.

She looks more beautiful everytime I see her.

My heart skipped a beat and I immediately looked away.

None of this was planned. It was just supposed to be a harmless thing I imagined. Not… whatever this was. I wanted to run.

"Ah, shoot. I forgot. There are some files that need moving. Hikigaya… I know you're done for the day, but mind giving me a hand?"

My heart skipped another beat. It was hammering faster now.

"Sure," I answered, trying to keep my voice steady.

Yukinoshita and Yuigahama both glanced at me for a second, before ultimately taking their leave, which meant, I was now alone with her.

We took a trip back to the staff room, where a prodigious pile of leather bound folders on the table. It was around three feet high, and each folder was packed to full capacity with papers.

Of course, every logical though took a back seat as my reproductive instincts urged me to prove that I was physically the most suitable mate she'd find, even as my more rational side told me to stop making a fool of myself.

"This is it?"

Without waiting for an answer, I grabbed the whole pile and got it off the desk. To my relief, it was light enough that I could do this without any difficulty.

"Oho. You're stronger than those rotten eyes suggest, huh? But you might want to hand over a few of those. It's going to be a long trip."

I scoffed, putting on an air of dangerous confidence.

"Pfft. You kidding me? This is light as a feather. Just lead the way."

Every rational thought in my brain was telling me that this act had all the charm of a caveman trying to boast about his dick size, and that there couldn't possibly be any way she'd be impressed by this. But I wasn't listening.

Sensei looked at me for a moment, then shrugged.

"Have it your way then. Follow me."

We made our way out of the staffroom, which was on the third floor, all the way down to the ground floor, and then out the building. We were heading towards the other block, where I assumed was the place we'd be storing all this.

Somewhere during all this, the stupidity of what I was doing really sank in.

The weight which is easy enough to lift, continues to apply force against your muscles, which must remain contracted throughout. Overtime, fatigue builds up. What had felt doable now started to feel challenging, and I was putting some effort into carrying it now.

By the time we had entered the other building and were somewhere up to the third floor, my arms were burning. Still, my ego stubbornly refused to admit that. Even worse, looking weak at this point was unthinkable, so I was going to the double effort of making sure that the pile wasn't even shaking as I walked. It was everything I could do to keep a straight face as I mentally cursed myself.

How the fuck was this supposed to help me in any way?

What was I even trying to do?

Was I honestly stupid enough to believe that I could get into a woman's pants by carrying some files for her?

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Worse, this immature attempt is not only immature, but obvious.

It was around the time I was thinking all this, that Sensei broke the silence by speaking.

"You know, I'm glad you joined. I still remember how surprised I was when you did that. You were just a kid who wanted to have a good time. A self-styled hedonist. If we really get down to it, I couldn't fault you for that. And I doubted someone who just wanted to have fun would ever care about something like the Service Club."

I couldn't see her face. And she couldn't see mine either, hidden as it was behind a stack of files.

She continued to speak.

"I didn't think someone like that would be interested in helping others. I hoped… no, I thought I saw something in you, though. So I took a risk, and asked you to join. I wasn't sure it would work. But then, you did join. I remember thinking that you'd do well. But I had no idea at the time that you'd be able to do the things that you did."

I said nothing.

"To not only help others with what they say, but to be able to help with what they really need… it's a rare ability. To know, almost instinctively, what someone truly wants, and to want to help them. Under the hedonist, there has to be someone more. Someone who can care about others."

That's not true. I didn't do any of it to help them. I did it all for myself.

"The Service Club is not easy. It's challenging in ways other Clubs are not. And I think the only way it can truly succeed is if it has members who believe in what it does. I am glad I was able to find you, Hikigaya, because I think, under the things you pretend to be, you embody that."

Stop it. I don't believe for a second in living to help others. I didn't join the Service Club because I believe in it.

"You were the right person to recruit."

No.

I felt absolutely sick to my stomach.

Sick at the thought that Hiratsuka Shizuka was seeing a benevolent, kind individual, an honest and pure soul, when in reality… there was only me.

Everything I am, and my reasons for joining, were made abundantly clear to me, laid out as they were in contrast to the Hikigaya Hachiman that Sensei thought existed.

It made me sick that she would live with the hope of seeing a "me" who would never exist.

She had stopped walking, and I could hear the jingling of keys. A moment later, there was the sound of a door swinging open.

"In here, Hikigaya."

I entered.

By now, it was no longer a matter of carrying the files. It was everything I could do to not drop them.

"You can put them down here. Someone should be by to collect these later."

I lowered the folders to the ground where she had indicated, next to other similar stacks. I had no idea what were in any of them, and had absolutely zero interest in finding out. My arms were fried, but the feeling barely registered.

We exited the room, and I waited for her to lock it up.

When she was done, she turned around and looked at me.

"Right, that's over and done with. We can both go home now."

She paused for a moment as she came closer.

"Hikigaya? Is everything OK?"

I instinctively took a step back.

"Y-yeah, of course it is. Why wouldn't it be?"

Instead of going along with my comeback, Sensei looked at me seriously.

"You tell me."

I looked away.

The sun was setting. I could see it through the corridor windows, a breathtaking sight.

This wasn't right. This illusion she had. And if I stayed, that illusion would only made stronger.

Hiratsuka Shizuka had helped the world, alone in her efforts. My appearance would give her a false hope, and expectations that would never be met. She'd make a mistake. The mistake of thinking that just because you are honest and kind and good, the world will give a shit. That there will be others like you, who will fight by your side.

I could leave now. Leave and correct the distorted vision I had given her.

But doing so would have its own consequences.

I did not know the history behind this Club. Why she had decided to create it, the circumstances and beliefs that led to it. But I do know that it meant a lot to her.

If I left now, the Club might survive for a while. Yukinoshita is capable, and Yuigahama has unexpected strengths of her own. But more than likely, it will eventually meet problems it cannot overcome with just the two of them.
Even if they could, my leaving would still be a blow to her.

It would essentially be equivalent to telling her that the Club that meant so much to her… meant nothing to me.

No matter what I chose, I would be hurting Hiratsuka Shizuka.

So like a coward, I said…

"Everything's fine, Sensei! Look, I gotta go, all right? Got some homework to do, and there's this new series I gotta check out. See ya later."

Before she could say anything further, I walked away quickly.

As I did, I saw a face I hadn't seen in a while.

Not since he encouraged me to attempt a frame perfect parry against a super move, more than a year ago.

"So are you doing it? Are you being a badass?"

I shook my head, and he disappeared.

I couldn't answer his question. Not that day.