Oh, boy. This chapter.

Chapter 9:

Hachiman swallowed, closing his eyes for a second. When he opened them, the light blue eyes right in front of him hadn't gone anywhere. They were still staring right into his own, unblinkingly, slightly wet, glittering, unbearably bright. It was uncomfortable, but not because it was unpleasant. Rather, faced with the sight of someone baring herself, completely forthright, he couldn't look away. Not from her, and not from himself. Thinking back, "looking away" might be a good way to describe what he had been doing for a long time. It wasn't as though he was dense or stupid. His intelligence was something he considered one of his few saving graces, and it was backed up by his considerable capacity to utilise his mind, all the time. Thus, he wasn't simply aware, he was painfully aware. Of himself, and the way everyone around him looked at him. He couldn't understand people. That was perhaps impossible for anyone. But he could see enough that continuing to look made him uncomfortable.

Of course it did. That kind of thing takes courage.

For the longest time, he'd ignored the signs, trying to explain them away. The shy approaches. The fact that she only seemed to drop the tough girl persona around him. The fact that she trusted him enough to look after her siblings. He'd only looked away like a coward. Kawasaki, on the other hand, had charged in. From experience, he knew how much courage that took. In the long term, a rejection or two probably meant nothing for a human being. But that kind of understanding came with distance and age. In the here and now? Confessing one's feelings and risking being rejected took courage.

"Kawasaki, I…"

He tried to lean back and away, but once more, the bed frame he was trapped against prevented any such evasive measures.

Complete tactical victory, huh? She's got me in the corner and I have no meter for a wake-up super.

He shook his head. He couldn't afford to space out right now.

This is bad. She's completely serious.

Involuntarily, his gaze managed to escape the black hole-like gravitational pull of her eyes, only to wander lower, where they were immediately captured by the gravitational pull of the solar masses there. Thanks to the way she was leaning towards him, he was given an ample view of them. Kawasaki was quite well endowed. Large without being too big, yet still perky and firm, her breasts were in plain sight. While this would have been stimulating enough anyway, his recent… graduation from virgin status, and the experiences that had come with it, meant he now knew first hand exactly how soft those parts of a woman could be, how supple they were, and how it felt to grasp them firmly.

His face grew hot as he realised what he was thinking, and he immediately averted his gaze, only to end up looking right at her face again. Kawasaki's light blue eyes were alight fiercely in a way he hadn't seen before. The way her hair brushed against her skin made him keenly aware of the smooth curve of her face. She really was absurdly cute, and in hindsight, he wondered how he could possibly think of her as a delinquent. She wasn't wearing any makeup, but her lips glistened slightly, as she opened them, he felt her hot breath against his face.

Right on cue, his own special place responded, immediately standing to attention, or at least trying to, as it strained against his trousers.

Time had slowed down in his hyper-sensitive state: every fraction of a second felt like minutes. Even so, he was aware that it was running out. His heart was hammering in his chest. He knew they couldn't just remain like this forever, frozen like statues. He would need to respond. His self-control was at its limit too. As much as he monologued like some twisted version of a monk in his own head, he was still very much susceptible to the same desires and urges as every other man, and right now in front of him was a (very attractive) woman who was only too eager to indulge those very same desires.

I can't do it! He thought desperately.

Why not? Came the immediate objection from his own mind.

Why not? Why not? Because…

An image of Shizuka's smiling face flashed in his head.

That's why.

Before he knew it, he was speaking.

"I'm sorry. I really am. You're quite amazing… but I can't do this."

The hurt that crossed those light blue eyes made him want to kick himself.

"Why?" asked a voice, softly. "Why? Is it because I'm not good enough?"

Hachiman felt a rush of pain. He knew first-hand just how much something like this hurt. Above all, he would treat her better than a lot of people had treated him. He shook his head frantically.

"Not even for a second. If anything, you're far too good for me."

"Then why?"

As gently as he could, he told her the truth. From the countless times Isshiki had faked this exact moment, he had an excellent idea of how not to do it.

"Because I already have a girlfriend, and…" he paused slightly, thinking of Shizuka once more. His fist tightened, and his determination grew stronger. "... and I like her a lot."

As those words left him, he felt a sense of relief. It had gotten really bad there for a second, but he'd managed to keep it together, and do the right thing.

His sense of relief lasted only for a second, until he remembered the girl still right in front of him.

Kawasaki's eyes went wide, and as he looked on, they filled with tears. Right before him, her expression broke, her look of hope shattering. She backed away slowly, covering up her mouth, until getting up, and running away quickly, leaving him sitting on the ground, staring.

What… have I done?

"Kawasaki!"

He got up and ran after her, only to be immediately met with a force that crashed right into him. The breath was knocked out of him as he was pushed clean off his feet, landing on his back. He looked up, meeting Kawasaki's gaze for a split second.

"Just leave me alone!" she said, running away quickly.

Collapsed on the ground, he looked up at the ceiling. His back hurt. Just how strong was this girl? Was she a relative of Kazuma Kiryu or something?

I'm running away, even now, aren't I?

He thought back to what had just happened. He'd had his own past experiences to draw from. There was his first confession, of course, long ago, to Orimoto. He'd been far too young and immature at the time to know what it meant to truly have feelings for somebody, enough to want to be with them. That one had gone, well, terribly. Orimoto turning him down had been awkward and embarrassing enough. The girl had had no interest in him, and her callous nature combined with her half-hearted attempt at being nice had left him feeling like shit, and regretting asking her out in the first place. Subsequently, she had also ended up telling all her friends, and so, his middle school life had basically gone to hell. It was bad, it was something he wouldn't wish on anyone.

But it wasn't as bad as the second time he'd been turned down.

While he could only remember the Orimoto incident roughly, he could still see the afternoon he had confessed to Yukinoshita as clearly as though he were living it in the here and now. Every detail was vivid and sharp. The light of the setting sun dyeing the Service Club's room orange. The slight smell of tea in the air. Yukinoshita's almost ethereal beauty, the way her long hair flowed around her, making her look like some kind of unearthly being, even further out of his reach than he had thought she was.

He liked to think he had changed at least a little since asking out Orimoto. No, perhaps that was too optimistic. Perhaps people didn't really change. But he had experienced things. And he had learned. He may or may not have changed, but his feelings had. He no longer had any illusions of friendship, nor any scales clouding his vision. He had seen Yukinoshita. Her strength, and her weakness.

And so, when he had asked her out, it wasn't because he thought she might say yes. He had come prepared to be rejected. He had come because he believed he needed to tell her how he felt, no matter the outcome.

When he had asked Yukinoshita out, it was because he genuinely did love her. She didn't laugh or smile awkwardly or attempt to deflect or make small talk. Nor did she go and tell her friends about it. Yuigahama and Isshiki figured it out on their own. But Soubu High as a whole remained unaware that anything had happened. His life didn't turn upside down because of teasing and rumours. No, it continued the same as it was before, with only one difference in it.

Yukinoshita would never be a part of it again. Her refusal had been just that: a refusal. She had taken his honest confession and given a proper answer. That was the most he could ask for from anyone.

Even so, it had hurt a trillion times more than getting turned down by Orimoto.

Because it was real.

Both his feelings, and the response he had gotten.

Did I really learn nothing from that?

Yukinoshita had given the proper response for someone who didn't return his feelings. Even so, the pain of getting turned down hadn't been lessened. Looking back now, how would he have felt if she had added that she couldn't accept because she already loved someone?

…

He had not only made Kawasaki deal with the pain of rejection, he'd also put upon her the additional pain of knowing he was with someone else.

Raising a hand, he formed it tightly into a fist before punching himself in the jaw.

… I did everything right, and she still got hurt? What am I supposed to do?

He had said it himself in the past: if the genuine thing only brought him sadness and pain, then he didn't want it. Certainly, that seemed to be all that his attempt at being genuine had brought Kawasaki. Yet, giving in to a lie couldn't be any better. That wasn't fair to her either.

I'm thinking about lying? Why?

Lies cannot intrinsically save people. But neither can the truth. One doesn't exist, and the other can be cruel. No, but even beyond that, isn't the idea of "saving" someone incredibly conceited? Kawasaki is strong in ways that I'm not. And not once did she come to me asking to be saved. No, the only reason she's been coming to me is because she wanted to. Faced with that quiet pride and dignity, can I really offer something as condescending and disgusting as pity? I don't want to save Kawasaki. I'm not qualified to do such a thing in the first place. Nor do I believe she needs saving.

But if all of that is true… then why do I still want to go to her?

Why does it hurt when I see her cry?

Why is it that I want to see her happy?

Slowly, he lifted himself off the floor.

Lies won't work. And the truth is painful. In that case… there's only one choice left.

Getting up, he headed out into the hallway. He'd been in the house a few times before, and while he hadn't seen all of it, he had a general idea of the layout. Going up the stairs, he checked a few of the doors, until he found one that was locked from the inside. He knocked gently.

"Kawasaki…"

"Go away!" came the voice from inside.

"Kawasaki, please. Just open up."

There was no reply.

"Kawasaki, please. Just give me five minutes, that's all. After that, if you don't want to see my face again, I'll leave and never bother you again."

Silence.

He didn't know how long he would have to wait for an answer, or if it would ever come, but he sat down outside the door, back to the wall, and waited anyway. It was the least he could do. After what could have been several minutes or several hours, the door opened. It was only a few inches, but it was left ajar. Getting up, he gently swung it open. There wasn't really time to take in the sight of her room. His eyes found Kawasaki right away, sitting on her bed, knees drawn up to her chest, closed off, not looking in his direction.

Quietly, he walked over to the centre of the room. Not willing to sit on her bed, he instead sat down on the floor. For a while, he said nothing. His past experiences had taught him that being truthful alone did not mean that you would be understood, nor that you would be accepted. That was one of the many lessons the Service Club had taught him.

But Kawasaki had taught him another.

There was genuine courage in being truthful, regardless of the result. To be oneself, to be true to oneself, no matter what that brought, whether it was isolation or hatred.

The truth alone might not mean getting through to someone. But lies didn't guarantee such a thing either. And in that case, it was far better to try and fail with the truth than to do so with lies. Pity had no place here, nor did false kindness. And so, he decided to simply speak from the heart.

"How long?" he asked.

Kawasaki answered without looking at him.

"I don't know. Was I supposed to memorise the precise moment? It just sort of ended up happening as we spent more time together."

She paused slightly.

"I felt… I could tell you things. The others wouldn't really get those parts of my life. And before I knew it, I was relying on you. It felt good… and I thought we were getting closer. I really did. Guess I was wrong."

Towards the end, her voice took on a bitter tone that Hachiman had never heard from anyone other than himself. It shocked him to hear it from Kawasaki. She was stoic and tough, but by that very virtue, despair had no place inside her. He had never once heard her sound defeated, until now. It was the same sound as his own voice once upon a time: the voice of someone who'd lost their hope.

A rejection from a high school crush might mean nothing in the long term. As years passed by, people moved on from those experiences, until they became nothing more than memories. To the jaded souls in their twenties and thirties looking back on their youth, they were nothing more than a pinprick, a meaningless speck of dust amidst the vast collection of disappointments and heartbreaks life brought.

Hikigaya, being just a little wiser than the average eighteen year old, knew this.

But he also knew something else, something those jaded souls in their twenties and thirties forgot, something they traded away for their wisdom.

To the girl in the room with him right here and now, that rejection meant everything.

Perhaps in time, one might think of it as a wound that stopped hurting.

But it wasn't that the pain disappeared. One simply got accustomed to it.

Am I really okay with being the cause of pain like that?

Yet, he could never insult Kawasaki by offering her pity.

When the words fell from his lips, they weren't pre-planned. He didn't even know what he was saying until he said it.

"You weren't wrong," he said, his voice slightly hoarse. "We did get closer."

His own eyes widened as he realised what he was saying.

"I was the one relying on you," he said. "Because I never really seem to be able to do anything on my own."

With the Stu Co president fiasco. Later on, with the prom issue. And more recently (and most importantly) when he had been down while thinking Shizuka had played him. Although he'd quickly learned that wasn't the case, although it was a non-issue in terms of how it affected the rest of the world, it was the time that mattered the most to him, because it was the time he needed help. Not Isshiki, not Yukinoshita. Hikigaya Hachiman had needed someone, even if it was only for one afternoon, to be there for him, and Kawasaki Saki had been the one who'd stepped up and done that for him.

Looking back, that had always been the case.

Hadn't the two of them always been close?

Loners didn't really say much. They weren't good at communicating their feelings. They couldn't say it with words, so they tried to say it with actions. Given all that, what did it mean that Kawasaki had kept finding excuses to come back… and he had kept accepting every time?

"That's not true," she said softly. "You're strong… and kind. There wasn't any reason for you to help out me or my family. But you did anyway."

"No…" he replied, shaking his head. "There was a reason. I can see it now."

This wasn't fair to Shizuka.

And yet, leaving now wouldn't be right either.

And that left only one alternative.

God of the new world? Don't make me laugh. I was arrogant to think I could ever be such a thing. The truth is cruel, and lies don't work.

The only solution, then, is to create a new truth. And the one I need to create is one that only a devil would be satisfied with.

Getting up, he slowly approached Kawasaki.

"It's true," he said. "I do have a girlfriend. She's an amazing person. I can't give up on her."

Kawasaki's eyes flashed with anger and hurt.

"Ya came back here just to rub that in my face?" she asked.

He shook his head.

"The truth is… I can't give up on you either."

This was the only option he could come up with. Cheating on Shizuka was out of the question, he'd sooner choke himself. But so was giving up on Kawasaki. And so, the only choice he had was to somehow try to hold on to them both. It was immoral, it was disgusting, but it was the only thing his heart could accept. Of course, he had no idea if either Kawasaki or Shizuka would even be all right with thinking of such a path.

But he had to try.

"I'm sorry, Kawasaki," he said, sincerely. A rare smile appeared on his face, even as a single tear leaked from his eye. "All I can offer you is something unfair."

She leaned forward slightly.

She didn't know if she would regret her choice in the future, but she did know that if she pushed him away here, it would be all the way out of her life, forever.

Something she had heard a long time ago played in her head again.

So, she decided to ask one final question.

"Is this really your 'genuine thing?'"

"... It's twisted beyond belief. It's unfair to her, and unfair to you, but yes. This is the only genuine path."

"I see."

She closed the gap between them, and this time, their lips did connect.