Thus, Kawasaki Saki Strikes

by Slalem

A peculiar request from an unexpected acquaintance pressures Hachiman into joining her part-time gig. Unbeknownst to him, however, the girl's true intentions may be far more profound and convoluted than he might have anticipated.

7. VII

And still, His and Her Youth Intertwine.

"I think I messed up."

Some brief shuffling sounded from the seat across from me. "A lot of people mess up. Nothing to be ashamed about."

"No," I sighed, rubbing my temples. "I think I really messed up. Like, badly."

The voice lifted its head upwards, taking a passive glance at me. "You'd be surprised to know how often I hear that."

The Angel Ladder was slow tonight— not that I particularly minded. The evening hours had grown late, and seeing that it was a rather mundane weekday, a majority of the few patrons who had bothered coming were already long gone, excluding a few passed out stragglers. Accompanied by the soothing piano music playing overhead, I had busied myself with checking inventory and cleaning used glasses by my lonesome.

Well, almost by my lonesome.

"Shouldn't it be time you headed home, Mr. Isshiki?" I inquired to the man across from me, abandoning the direction of our previous conversation. Daddy-cop didn't technically count as a straggler, considering he was still (somewhat) conscious, but he had parked himself on one of the barstools and had been downing alcohol for an unhealthy amount of time. He was decent company, but the man's liver could only take so much.

After what looked to be a brief struggle for words, I received a reply. "I'm good. Trust me, kiddo, I've had worse."

That might have been true, but I wasn't about to have the guy die on me in the event that it wasn't. I thought back to my training and referred to standard protocol. "I can call a ride for you, if you need it."

The man's look became stern. "I told you, kid, I'm fine."

"Your face says otherwise." Ironic that I was lecturing people on unappealing facial expressions. Takes one to know one, I guess.

The man heaved a great sigh, before revealing his badge. The words 'Chiba P.D.' were plastered squarely on the emblem, in shining silver letters. "As an enforcer and administrator of the law, you are legally obligated to turn around and make me a drink right this instant."

Ignoring the man's gross abuse of power, I was surprised to see him speak with such sudden clarity. I would be pressed to know if he was drunk or not had I not been serving him for the past few hours. "I don't think you have that kind of authority."

"You may be right," the older Isshiki pondered, before pocketing his badge and whipping out his wallet, fishing out a generous sum of money. "But money certainly does. Another White Russian, and make it strong."

I sighed again. The man would be dead by fifty, if he already wasn't on his last legs. Taking his cash, I turned to make his drink.

"Seriously though," I resumed after returning, handing the man his drink. "I can walk you home, if you need it. I have nothing else to do, and Oshino can close up shop for me." I would have to avoid any potential run in with Iroha, but I would cross that bridge if and when I got there. It was a nice gesture anyway.

"No need," Daddy-cop dug in his coat for yet another item, this time revealing an item I had familiarized myself with— a golden keycard, one allowing access to a hotel room. "I'm here on official business."

"What for?" I asked, curious.

"Providing security detail for some visiting cabinet member," the man waved nonchalantly. "Nothing all that important." I was ready to remind him otherwise, but after considering the nature of Daddy-cop's work, I assumed that tasks of this variety were commonplace for him.

"I doubt your client would be all that happy to see you drowning yourself in liquor," I reminded him.

"Already passed out drunk before I got here. He's probably sound asleep by now," the distinguished officer countered, before scoffing, "Guy's a total lightweight."

Deciding to take his word for it, I made to change the subject. It would be bad if someone of prominence overheard the man talking ill of his temporary employer. Politicians were among the scariest group of people this world had to offer. Next to women, of course.

"Doesn't being a police escort qualify as something..." I searched for the appropriate way to word my question. "... beneath you?" I was aware that Daddy-cop was a rather important figure in the police force, and while I was unaware of the specifics regarding his position, I had enough wherewithal to surmise that he was likely more at home directing general operations of the force, rather than acting as a simple bodyguard.

"It's best that you learn this now— there isn't anything that's beneath anyone." The man's gaze hardened for a moment, before sobering up. "I mean, the Prime Minister still has to wipe his own ass, doesn't he?" I voted against picturing the analogy in my head, but the cop brought up a valid point.

"Plus," Isshiki continued, taking a brief swig of his drink. "I've never been one for office work. That stuff's for the politicians. Being in the field with my guys, keeping an eye on things in the community— that's where I belong. What kind of man with power lets others do the heavy lifting for him?"

"Plenty," I retorted. "A simple look at history would tell you that much."

"A bunch of rich idiots experimenting with the naïveté of early man. Besides, where did all that power and affluence get them?" Oshino hunched over the counter, temporarily neglecting his drink. "Dead and buried, their only legacy remaining in those textbooks your teachers give you to study with as busywork."

"The police department exists solely to enforce the rules of the government," I felt inclined to remind him. "By default, that means you do all the heavy lifting for the people with a spot on the Diet."

The man was at least willing to concede that much. "You have a point. Then again," the cop smirked wryly. "Do people really regard those clowns in the Diet as men to begin with?"

I found myself chuckling with him. It was nice to find someone who despised authority as much as I did. It would also make a pretty good story for my future grandchildren— 'Your grandpa mocked the Japanese parliament with the head of the Chiba Police Department! I also indirectly killed him due to alcohol poisoning and induced liver failure!'

Isshiki leaned back on his barstool, returning to his drink. A silent minute passed, before he spoke again, in a noticeably more hushed tone. "Do you know why it is that I hate people in power?"

There were a plethora of reasons I could think of. Most of them stemmed from the fact that a majority of the time, people in power simply weren't good human beings. Instances in which politicians made themselves better off at the expense of the people they swore to govern faithfully were too numerous to count. Tales of corruption and abuse have existed well before recorded history, and as the complexity of humanity has evolved with the gradual passage of time, so too have the ways that man has learned to swindle and enslave one another.

Still, despite my previous knowledge of this fact, I was interested to know why a man in power himself hated other men in positions similar to his. "I don't."

He acknowledged my answer before continuing. "I'm sure you're already aware of this, but folks with influence aren't exactly the most pleasant crowd to surround yourself with. Most of them fall into the category of arrogant, boastful braggarts. I can't remember the last time I met with some bigwig who didn't feel the need to tell me every individual accomplishment of his since birth. I don't think it'd be far off to say that most of the powerful people in this country are insufferable idiots so out of touch with the common folk that the only way they can cope is by receiving some modicum of attention every now and again."

He shrugged, somewhat melancholic. "But, then again, disliking people with power is a socially popular opinion, so saying 'I hate people in power' is a pretty safe thing to say. Really, any decently-informed citizen could tell you what I just said. At the end of the day, I'm not all that different from those in charge, as much as it pains me to admit it. We're practically the same, but I delude myself into thinking we aren't, in some way."

Isshiki then turned his head to me, apparently remembering I was present. "Tell me, Hikigaya— how similar do you think I am to those that lead this country?"

Deciding to humor him, I figured that I would at least try to answer his question. I didn't know the man very well, but he didn't seem all that bad at heart— which was already more than I could say for most modern powerful figures. Seeing that he and his daughter were eerily similar, I could surmise that his normal disposition was his true self, and not some elaborate charade he was forced to put on around others. While he certainly had his share of oddities, he also had plenty of good attributes, which made it safe for me to assume that he was plenty different than the particularly crooked individuals with influence that he so despised.

I was beginning to wonder why he even bothered comparing himself to people he was obviously much better than, at least from a moral standpoint. Unless the excessive alcohol had him feeling more out of it than usual, the difference between the two parties was clear. "If we're being totally honest, I don't see much of a similarity between you and those people."

Daddy-cop's tone then changed considerably, starkly contrasting his voice from before. "And why do you think that is?" His eyes remained on me, and I swore I saw a gleam reflecting in them.

I thought back to what I knew of Isshiki's character. Admittedly, it wasn't much to go off on, so any possible answer to the man's question would be exempt from any substantial evidence. The only thing I could really think of was his assistance during our first meeting, which even then didn't give me much in the way of answering his question— he had been sober during that whole affair, after all.

"I don't know," I was forced to reply. It was irritating to have to concede a question of character, something I imagined myself to be an expert in evaluating. Considering what I did and didn't know, however, I didn't have much of a choice.

"So there are things you don't know," though the man intended the phrase with humor, he was bereft of laughter. "Well, you're still just a high schooler, so I guess it makes sense. I suppose an explanation is in order, yeah?" He settled into what I assumed to be a comfortable pose, and despite my irritation, I made to listen intently.

"Right now, there's likely a man somewhere in this city getting robbed and shot on his way home from work. A woman being kidnapped and taken advantage of. Some kids your age being enslaved and sold for profit, blindly going along with it because they don't know anything else," despite the unnerving nature of his words, Isshiki held a regretful smile, gazing solemnly at the wall of drinks behind me. "And here I am, cooped up in some fancy hotel, keeping an eye on some power-hungry slob who's likely committed more crimes than he cares to remember."

Isshiki's collected appearance seemed to waver for the first time that night. Not that I could blame him.

"It's an agonizing feeling, I'm sure you've guessed," he continued. "It doesn't go away, either. The thought that you could be doing something for someone has a habit of lingering in the mind. It was especially rough when I first started the job— I wanted to spend every waking moment on duty, patrolling the city and helping anyone who needed it. A part of me still does, though I've gotten much better at controlling the urge."

It took a few seconds, but the man's tired eyes eventually made their way back to mine. "You see what I'm getting at?" Choosing against words, I nodded silently, even if the full scope of his explanation escaped me. The man seemed content with at least that much.

"I do what I do because I have the power to do it," Isshiki fiddled with the now empty glass in his hand, spinning it inattentively. "I was forced to make a choice between morals and power, and hilariously enough, they made me have to juggle the two. So when I'm not having to sit in on a city council meeting, or having to escort some cabinet member to his 35-acre mansion, I get in the field and do the job I signed up to do, because god damn it, I have the power to do it in the first place."

He leaned backwards, stretching his back with an audible sigh as he did so. "That's what I think separates me from those lazy bastards. They get the power and the accolades and are content to just sit on it— I'd rather use my power to face this city's problems head on. And I wouldn't even think twice about doing it any other way."

"How do..." I briefly struggled to speak, still trying to decipher what the cop's overarching point was. It was a tiny miracle that I didn't jumble my words any more than I did. "How do you deal with all of that?"

"Easy," the man replied with a surprisingly little amount of hesitation. "I have a beautiful wife and adorable daughter to come home to. The job is taxing, and more than a little straining on the psyche, but it's worth it when I think of my two favorite women on this planet." He allowed himself a soft chuckle, seeming to return to his previous state of sly leisure. "Three, if you count my mother-in-law, but that's a story for another time."

I was silent for a moment, digesting his words carefully. It was a lot to take in, certainly. It felt as though there was a lot more to the man than he let on. I'd need some time to reevaluate my opinion of him in the future.

In the present, Isshiki seemed to notice my prolonged silence, and continued speaking. "You're awfully quiet. Something on your mind, perhaps?"

Neglecting the option to reply, I continued wiping down glasses. Isshiki seemed to go against pressing for an answer, and took to examining the remaining contents of his long-empty drink, before eventually speaking again. "Hey, where's your friend at? The cute one with the long hair?"

"She's sick," I replied. It didn't take much to decipher who he was talking about. "Came down with a cold. Don't know when she's coming back."

"And did she tell you that herself?" The man replied, unconvinced. "Or is that just pure hearsay?"

My grip on the glass increased marginally. Daddy-cop sure was nosy, for a drunk. "It doesn't matter. If her absence bothers you that much, you can have Oshino call her for you."

Very much aware of my suddenly defensive attitude, Isshiki turned towards me with a face made of nonchalance. It certainly didn't do much to mitigate my growing temper. "I don't know about that. Doubt she'd be real happy to receive a call an hour past midnight from an old geezer like myself," the man then gave me a knowing look. "Though, if it were you on the line..."

Putting the glass down, I turned towards the man with an angry glare. "What are you getting at?"

"Spare me the look, Project Manager. Oshino already told me what happened." I suppressed the urge to clench my fist any harder than I already was. Oshino, for the life of him, couldn't keep a secret to himself. Never mind that I wasn't even the one who told him of my tenuous situation with Kawasaki in the first place— which prompted an entirely new crop of questions that I would have to ponder at a later time.

"How much did he tell you?" I kept my voice low and even, if only not to give away how agitated I was.

"Most everything," Isshiki replied, before snorting in apparent amusement. "I mean, I get being nervous in front of a pretty girl, but running away? That's pretty lame, Hikigaya. I have half a mind to arrest you for that."

"I have half a mind to kick you out," I retorted, choosing to exercise some of my power as a bartender. Of course, I couldn't actually do that without consulting Oshino first, but the aim was to spook Isshiki into shutting up, unlikely as that was.

The man ignored my threat entirely, however, and continued speaking. "Look, if you want my honest opinion, yes, you absolutely messed up," it took me a minute to realize he was referring to our earlier conversation. "But unless you directly insulted her chastity or something like that, I doubt she's really angry at you."

I felt ashamed for even considering what the man was implying, but I didn't want to pass up the chance on learning something he knew that I didn't. "What do you mean?"

"You're well acquainted with Iroha, if I'm not mistaken," Isshiki began. "Believe it or not, she takes a lot more after her mother than she does me. A lot of her little tricks and nuances can be traced back to the devilish fiend I call my wife." I had a hard time following where he was going with this, or how this related to me, but I assumed there would be some kind of point he made with this sudden digression. I hung onto every word.

"For as long as I've known her at least, Iroha's mom has always been the way she is," the man reminisced with a fond smile on his face. "We met in high school, and even then, she was as sly and cunning as she is now. I remember dreading having to go to school and dealing with whatever scheme she would plan for me. She made a habit of teasing me specifically, since I was the only one willing to consistently put up with her."

He laughed softly. "The years passed and we got older, but she still never changed. I eventually enlisted in the force, she went off into university, and even though we could hardly ever make time to see each other, she would still put in insane amounts of effort just to make fun of me in person. Back then, I could never get an accurate read on why she acted the way she did, but when you spend so much time with someone, you're bound to pick up on a few things."

His smile faded, and his disposition became serious once again. "Hikigaya, I've known my wife for years upon years now. She might be one of the most eccentric and enigmatic women this world has to offer, but I still love her with everything I have. How do you think one goes about dealing with a woman like that?"

Seeing that I had finally reached the end of his little love story, I refocused, searching for an answer. Considering I had developed no effective way of dealing with Iroha, I was short on any definitive answers. "I didn't think such a thing was possible."

"It's daunting, but it certainly is possible," the man reassured me. "You might be surprised at how simple it is."

"Dealing with any woman of your daughter's nature seems like the furthest thing from simple."

"Oh, but it is!" Isshiki grinned haughtily, the alcohol beginning to catch up to him. "All you need to do... is be aggressively honest."

I took a moment to digest the man's words, trying to see if there was some double meaning embedded within them. After a silent pause of consideration, I found myself more confused than I had been previously. "Aggressively honest? What does that even mean?"

"Allow me to explain," the cop declared. "My wife, for as long as I've known her, has almost never been flustered. She's as confident and composed as women can be. Only once have I been able to break through her act and leave her at a true loss for words."

I was still reluctant on interpreting his story as fact rather than fiction. "How did you do it?"

"Easy," the man replied. "I proposed to her."

Taking my partially shocked and confused silence into account, he continued. "We'd just gotten back from a fancy date I'd been planning for months. I was dropping her off at her apartment, and in a sudden burst of courage, I proposed to her. I didn't even know if she liked me in the same way I liked her, and I'd been planning on doing it much later, but I thought, 'What better time than the present?'. It worked better than I could have dreamed— she blushed, started crying, and told me that she had loved me since high school. Despite how often she teased and made fun of me, she had been harboring and building romantic feelings for me for years at that point, without giving me even the slightest clue."

I was momentarily stunned. I could understand something like that happening in an anime or light novel, but for it to happen in real life? It was baffling. It went against everything I assumed about modern romances. "That's seriously all it took? There weren't any other strange occurrences that happened?"

"You're a little too young to know what happened next," Isshiki dismissed quickly, before continuing. "The point is, women are never straight up about anything. Your coworker's little confession was likely one of the few moments of honesty she'll have in her entire life. To the opposite sex, revealing their true feelings is a sign of weakness, and to do it in front of simpleminded men like you and I is probably a death sentence in their eyes."

"So," the cop declared with finality. "To combat this, you need to be honest and up-front with her. Don't give her a chance to misconstrue the nature of your relationship. It's kind of like what I was talking about earlier, in a way— if you have the power to do something good for yourself and others, by all means, you should do it. Don't be like one of those morons in the Diet and wait for things to go your way. Make an opportunity for yourself and seize it."

I had a little trouble taking this all in. "Did you really lecture me for a half hour about how much you hate politicians, just for the sake of setting up a reason for me to make up with my coworker?"

"Perhaps," the man shrugged. "Of course, I could be entirely wrong about how to go about this whole thing. There isn't another woman on this planet like my wife, excluding my own daughter. Your little friend might actually hate your guts and despise you even more if you go about a direct approach."

"That's reassuring," I grunted.

"But that's the beauty of love, isn't it?" The man smiled, reveling in his moment of poetic clarity. "The risk and uncertainty of it all. It makes it all the more sweeter if you two work out in the end, doesn't it?"

If it worked out. In all likelihood, taking this approach probably wouldn't work out for me in the long run. Kawasaki wasn't nearly as conniving or sly as Daddy-cop thought she might have been, and choosing to stroll right up to her and discuss the nature of our relationship days after running away from her didn't come across as the most foolproof strategy.

Besides, what did "working out" even entail? Making up and continuing as good friends? Going back to the way things were before her request? Dating? That last thought was reason enough for me to hold back on undertaking a direct and honest approach with her.

But, a part of me knew that Isshiki was right, in a sense. I couldn't keep ignoring and dancing around this issue forever. I'd be no better than those idiotic sheep I constantly made a point to mock. As the model disciple for loners all around the world, it was my duty to discard any personal feelings and put an end to an issue that presented a problem for me. Such was the most logical course of action.

Though, perhaps it would be wise to reserve immediate action. At least until I had an effective plan of dealing with this whole fiasco. Yeah, that sounded reasonable.

I momentarily forgot that Daddy-cop was present, and was chagrined to think that I allowed him to witness the range of mental gymnastics I had been performing for the last two minutes. True to form, I was met with an infuriatingly smug grin across from me.

"If it makes you feel any better," the cop began, stifling an alcohol-induced hiccup. "You two would be the most adorably awkward couple I think the world might ever see."

"You're running out of material," I retorted.

"You'd know plenty about running out on things, wouldn't you?"

Chief Isshiki left with a rather expensive bill shortly after.

---

Yuigahama was awfully pushy today.

"C'mon, slowpoke!" I felt as though my arm was going to be snapped from my body if she pulled me any harder. I was already low on muscle as I was, and the precious few I already had were screaming in protest against the unstoppable force that was this high school girl. Perhaps a gym membership needed to be considered in the future.

I had hardly even a second to consider why my clubmate was so insistent on dragging me to the clubroom. Rather than lingering with her little posse as she normally did, she had immediately snatched my bicep and guided me out of the classroom, zipping me in the direction of the clubroom as quickly as possible. I barely had time to retrieve my bag before I was stolen away, like some coveted treasure. Not that anyone saw me as such.

Weaving through the halls at an uncomfortably fast pace, I felt it necessary to mention that I had never seen Yuigahama this determined in anything. The common mediator between Yukinoshita and I, it almost benefited her to be more simple and lackadaisical in order to balance out the other two extremes in the club. I presently couldn't see her face, but I imagined her to be wearing a rare look of resolve and staunchness that only revealed itself during times of dire need. Which made me further question the reason behind why she was dragging me along so stubbornly in the first place.

I made to voice my thoughts. "Yuigahama, what's the meaning of this?" I nearly swallowed my words after bumping into what had to have been the thirteenth passerby inadvertently exposed to Yuigahama's haste.

"Can't tell you!" The girl replied instantly. "You'll just have to wait until we get there!"

"That's helpful," I grumbled tiredly. I was still reeling from the previous night's encounter with Daddy-cop, and to say I was operating at less than full capacity would be a vast understatement.

"Don't worry!" Yuigahama reassured me, apparently thinking it would help in some capacity. "I have a feeling you're gonna like what we're planning for you. Probably."

I squinted, confused. "We? Who is we—"

"We're here!" Yuigahama announced, and sure enough, I found myself standing at the cusp of an all-too-familiar entrance. I briefly relished the returning circulation in my arm, before turning to interrogate my classmate once more.

"Yuigahama, what's going on? I'm hoping there's a good reason you nearly tore my shoulder from its socket just to get me here."

"Oh, relax!" Yuigahama brushed my inquiry aside, returning to her airy self. "I was plenty gentle. And to answer your question... well, I can't answer your question. But you'll see!"

I glanced at the sliding door. "You mentioned a 'we'. Is Yukinoshita involved in whatever plot you've been hiding from me?"

Feigning ignorance, the girl looked away intentionally, placing a finger on her chin. "Perhaps."

"I see. Guess I'll be leaving then."

I had barely turned a step in the opposite direction before my arm was tugged on once again. The jolt of pain that shot through my arm again was enough to make me reconsider having attempted to leave in the first place. "What?! You can't just leave! That'd be, like, really rude and stuff!"

"Since when has any plot involving the combined efforts of you and Yukinoshita ever proven beneficial for my well-being?" I asked. Yuigahama biting her lip in distressed contemplation was the only real answer I needed to that question.

"Y-You might be right. But this time is different! You'll really like what she and I came up with, trust me!" The girl was all but pleading to me, and were I a man of pure efficiency and logic, I would have already exited the premises by now. Such was the level of existence I strived for.

But alas, I had a little sister, and was thus susceptible to the whims of cute girls and pouting faces. Yuigahama was by no means Komachi, but that damn look in her eyes could give puppies a run for their money. I once again cursed the gods for bestowing upon me the bane of brotherly affection. It would one day lead to my ultimate demise, I was sure of it.

I sighed, letting the last of my resistance exit my body. "This isn't some scheme to force me into even more work?"

The girl crossed her heart with her finger dramatically. "I swear on Sable."

"That's meaningless. Your dog hospitalized me."

"You know what I mean!"

Turning with a grunt, I reached for the door. "I sure hope I do." Begrudgingly, I slid the door open and made to meet my fate.

The room was entirely dark— which was concerning, considering it was only a little past midday. The windows had been shuttered, and the furthest I could see in front of me was a few feet.

I turned to Yuigahama questioningly, but she still held her brimming smile, patiently motioning me to keep going. "Go on!" Obliging her, I took a few more tentative steps, and was immediately assaulted by a sudden blinding light.

"Surprise!"

The cacophony of voices nearly made me jump. Quickly adjusting to the light, I found everything in the clubroom to be as it normally was, excluding the body count. Familiar faces nearly packed the room, and suddenly forced into the center of attention, I found myself struggling for words.

"Wha… what's going on?"

"What do you think's going on?" Yuigahama chirped behind me, now adorning a rather comical party hat. "We're celebrating your birthday, of course!"

My eyes narrowed. "It isn't my birthday. It's not even close to my birthday."

"We're well aware of that," another voice called from within the clubroom, and I found myself facing an amused Yukinoshita, who also choose to wear an excessively colorful party hat. Personally, I didn't think it suited her all that well. She was hardly the colorful type. "We chose to throw this surprise party for you to make up for all of the years in which you spent your birthday alone."

"I..." Initially making to dispute her claim, I thought better of it after some internal deliberation. She was right, after all. "How did you know that?"

A small smirk. "Komachi loves to talk about her big brother."

My ultimate demise by brotherly affection had arrived early, it seemed.

"Okay, that's enough talking! We're here to celebrate, after all!" Yuigahama, sensing a potential feud, quickly made to get the party back on track. "There's cake and other treats if you're hungry! We're gonna play some games and open presents later, so everyone, have fun!"

A chorus of cheers sounded from all around me, and the party was underway. Still partially dazed, I made to sit in my familiar chair— which had been strategically moved into the direct center of the room. I assumed that had been prepared in advance to prevent any wall-hugging on my part. My clubmates, as always, were annoyingly shrewd.

Now that I had been given time to actually think, I was more than a little surprised by this surprise party (obviously). I had been given no clue that something of this nature was being planned, and considering that Yukinoshita and Yuigahama were well aware of my aversion to attention, it was odd to see that they had settled on throwing a party for me at all, as opposed to something more lowkey. Frankly, I was a bit shocked that they had even bothered doing this much for my sake. The feeling of something being coordinated and aimed for my benefit and entertainment was a feeling I was wholly unused to.

I imagined that this was what it must have felt like to be a Raijuu. Everyone lavishing attention onto you, celebrating your very existence with treats and presents and whatnot. Whereas I only received this sort of pleasure once a year, Raijuus received it nearly every day of their lives. It was an enlightening paradigm shift for me, though I didn't really know what to do with this information, or how to feel with what I was currently experiencing. Again, this sort of thing was something I really wasn't used to.

After some silent thinking, I shrugged off any questions I might have had. It was innocent, harmless fun, and there didn't seem to be any drama involved. I got free cake and presents out of it too, which was always nice.

My stomach conveyed its interest in the aforementioned free cake, and I made to get a slice. Meandering my way towards a delicious looking chocolate cake, I took notice of who had been invited. My clubmates seemed to have a generally good idea of who I could tolerate for a few hours— Hayama's regular clique was no where in sight, to my immense pleasure. Hiratsuka, barely a meter away from where the snacks were, was nearly inhaling her slice of cake, sneaking in a few drinks of something that had to be alcoholic from a tiny flask in her coat pocket. Ebina stood by harmlessly, chatting away with Yuigahama about this and that. She didn't seem to be in her acclaimed Fujoshi mode, thank the heavens.

On the subject of heaven, seeing Totsuka shyly eating an adorably small piece of cake nearly made my heart burst. I suddenly wished that I had bothered charging my phone last night. I wanted to record this moment in time forever. That precious smile of his made life worth living.

Begrudgingly returning to reality, I arrived at my destination. I grabbed a plastic plate, and with a nearby fork, made to reach for the nearest slice of chocolate treasure. My hand's path was interrupted, however, by another hand with the same idea. A dainty, familiar hand that made my breath hitch.

Kawasaki looked up at me, equally surprised, and I froze entirely. It seemed unlikely to me before now, but I should have known that she would have been invited something like this. She was on good terms with the rest of the Service Club, and seeing that Yuigahama and Yukinoshita were unaware of the stilted relationship we currently shared, it made sense that she would be extended an invitation. I was a fool for thinking that this would be a drama-free affair.

Though, I wondered why she had bothered coming, considering the terms we were on. Maybe she wasn't as mad as I thought she was, as Isshiki had suggested. It gave me a faint glimmer of hope, at least.

We stood there for a moment, awkwardly sizing each other up. I hadn't spoken to her, much less seen her, since the incident at the cultural festival. She looked hardly any different, but I knew better than to take her appearance at face value. Those eyes of hers shined with the same intensity they did during that eventful night, though this time with a kind of emotion I assumed to be entirely different. An emotion much more complex than simple affection.

My mind flashed back to what Isshiki said to me last night. "Be honest and up-front with her. Don't give her a chance to misconstrue the nature of your relationship." It sounded too simple to be effective, but Daddy-cop was evidently far more experienced in dealing with the opposite sex than I was. I would have to deal with this issue eventually anyway— it would be most efficient to deal with it now, as opposed to later.

My voice briefly struggled to find the confidence to work. "Kawasaki, I—"

But she didn't stay. She tore her eyes from me, and wordlessly left, sparing me not even the simplest of glances or gestures. My voice died, and I somberly watched her go, making no effort to chase after her. Whatever confidence I had in resolving the conflict between us swiftly left along with her.

A part of me would admit that it hurt to see her entirely disregard my presence, despite everything we had gone through together. Another part of me scoffed at my ignorance— I was the reason we were in this situation to begin with, so it was only natural that I live with the consequences of my actions, as I so frequently preached. There wasn't much to argue against from that standpoint.

Huffing, I forced my resolve to resurface anew within me. I was plenty aware that we couldn't struggle in this conflict forever, and Daddy-cop had inspired me to act on his words. I would have to try and catch her later on and talk this out, whether she wanted to or not. It was a selfish thing of me to do, but I couldn't bear to watch a mistake of mine so deeply trouble someone I held genuine respect for. I knew for a fact that Kawasaki could be doing much more important things than sulking in response to what I said (or rather, didn't say) to her.

My confidence was restored, but the question of what I was going to say to her still remained. "Hey, sorry for running away from your confession a few days ago. I know you're still sad, but can we be friends again? It gets real lonely at the bar late at night." It was good to be direct with people, but being that blunt with her very well could have produced the opposite of what I was aiming for. I would have to be extremely delicate with what I was going to say, so as to resolve the issue effectively, but not insinuate anything that could have led to serious complications and misunderstandings.

I sighed. This was such a chore. Could I not celebrate my fake birthday in peace? I hadn't even had any cake yet.

Appetite returning, I grabbed a slice and made to return to my seat in the middle of the room, still quietly brooding over a method of approach. So many things to say, so little time. Maybe if I acted as though I were having an allergic reaction during her confession then she would think that I wasn't really running—

"Hikigaya! Dear brother in arms!"

Just what I needed. I suppressed the intense urge to groan.

Zaimokuza lumbered his way towards me, grinning exuberantly. A few bits of cake icing were present on the sides of his mouth, and it took a strong amount of willpower not to throw up on the spot. How could someone live like that?

I calmed myself down, finishing my slice of cake faster than I would have liked. Untimely as his appearance had been, it might have proven beneficial. It could do me some good to be able to take my mind off of Kawasaki and focus on something (or someone, rather) much more simple like Zaimokuza. He wasn't the most normal person I'd met, but he was predictable. And a genuinely good guy, despite his many flaws. Not that I'd ever tell him that.

I turned towards him, straining a friendly smile. He was barely a few feet away and I could already tell that he was sweating profusely. He seriously needed to ditch that ridiculous trench coat, for everyone's sake. "Hey, Zaimokuza."

"It's been far too long, comrade!" He heartily patted me on the back, and I suddenly wanted to take an hour-long shower. "How goes life's happenings?"

"It's... happening," I replied after a time. It was hard to understand what he was saying sometimes, with all that weird fantasy jargon he spewed out constantly. "I got a job."

"You're employed?!" Zaimokuza nearly yelled, before coughing and returning to a much more appropriate voice level. "Erm, what I meant to say was, fantastic! It goes without saying that a man rivaling my own ingenuity would find himself taking the world by storm! I'd expect nothing less from you!"

Ignoring his obvious disdain, I made to keep the conversation flowing. I would need this practice later on. "It's not that big a deal. What's been up with you?"

Apparently surprised that someone had actually inquired about his life, the chubby teen briefly struggled for words. "W-well, er… I suppose one could say my life currently resides in an extended state of limbo! Yet I know it is only a prolonging of my awaiting destiny— my time to shine rides upon the horizon, eagerly waiting my arrival unto greatness and immortality!"

"... so nothing much?

"... y-yeah."

Like I said, a simple creature. But ultimately one I felt comfortable around. Sort of.

His enthusiasm returned as suddenly as it had left. "Oh! Your presence reminds me—" a bit of digging around in a bag slung around his shoulder, before revealing an unholy amount of paper. "—you and Mistress Yukinoshita's words have proven invaluable to my thought procession! Thus, I present unto your eager soul, my revised epic!"

Oh. I had almost forgotten about that thing he was trying to write. I was pressed to call it an epic— it was more so a tragedy, and not in the sense of a genre designation— but I somewhat admired his tenacity in perfecting it. It at least gave him something slightly productive to do with his free time, keeping him from being an even bigger menace to society.

But alas, I was hardly in the mood to read a sub-par isekai-harem in its developing stages. Fortunately, I had planned a distraction in the event that Zaimokuza tried to get me to read his abomination of a literary work.

"You know what?" I spoke softly, as if addressing a toddler. "I'm not all that good at critiquing media, to be quite honest with you. I'm more of a consumer type. I can't really find it within me to put down a piece of work that someone has put so much effort into."

Zaimokuza raised an eyebrow. "But Hikigaya, you were quite brutal with me in our last review sessi—"

"That being said," I continued, cutting him off. "You know who's really in the mood to read your work?"

The chuuni's eyes began to glimmer with faint traces of hope. "Who?"

I stuck a thumb in the direction of Yukinoshita, in the middle of a casual conversation with Hiratsuka. "Mistress Yukinoshita has been dying to read more about your story. Lately she's been telling me about how much she yearns to know what happens next in your... uh, epic."

Hope was replaced with skepticism. "But, if my mind recalls correctly, Mistress Yukinoshita was even more harsh in her critique than you were."

"Typical tsundere behavior," I waved off, briefly thanking my own anime knowledge for bailing me out. "I assure you, she is more than eager to view your work again."

Again, Zaimokuza's hope resurfaced astoundingly fast. "Are your words true, dear comrade?"

The lie flowed out like honey. Delicious, revenge-coated honey. "Indeed they are."

I didn't even have time to inhale another breath before Zaimokuza made a beeline towards Yukinoshita, manuscript in hand. Suppressing the urge to cackle venomously— such an act would have come off as unseemly and creepy to potential onlookers— I returned to my seat, feeling slightly better about myself than I had been a few minutes earlier. Bringing unnecessary and entirely preventable hardship unto Yukinoshita always made the sun shine a little brighter in my world.

And yet, a small part of me stung with dissatisfaction. Not with regards to my prank, but with Zaimokuza. As often as I acted above him, he lived a vastly more fulfilling and (dare I say it) genuine lifestyle than I did. He never felt the need to put up a front, act differently around others, or go through any of the other hoops and such that I had to endure on a daily basis. His life was as simple as he wanted it to be, to the point where it could be harmlessly predicted with relative ease.

In a way, you could argue that Zaimokuza had won at life. He refused to conform to what the world expected of him, and to that end, he was likely one of the realest people I knew. For all the fake acts and performances that people put up every day, Zaimokuza woke up, put on that disgusting trench coat, grinned like an idiot and acted the same as he always had. This world had yet to change him, and honestly, I doubted it ever would.

I almost felt the need to laugh. I was praising Zaimokuza, of all things. Maybe I had changed more than I would like to admit.

His and Yukinoshita's long-winded conversation had already begun— babbling about prose and wish-fulfillment and other such terms qualified writers tended to use— and while I was tempted to watch the unfolding comedy, my mind felt renewed with unexpected inspiration. Turning silently, I made for the door and left the room, allowing myself a last rueful glance at the jubilant scene and the vast amount of presents I was leaving behind.

There was a certain coworker of mine who needed a firm talking to.

---

I found her heading towards the back exit of the school, just preparing to leave. Her steps were long and drawn out, as though somber in tone. Accompanied by no one (as hardly anyone ever used the back exit), she appeared every bit as the lone wolf she made herself out to be. Only this time she appeared to be more isolated and stoic than she normally was.

I sighed. That was probably because of me. Or maybe I was just reading too much into it. Either one at this point.

Approaching her, I was caught between a leisurely walk and a brisk jog. I didn't want to alert her of my presence, but I also didn't want to risk it looking like I was methodically following her like some weird stalker. The last thing I needed was for the student body to think I was a predator on top of a loner. My social life would really take a hit if that were to happen.

I shook my head, jarring my thoughts. I was thinking too much. Crafting out a well-organized plan hadn't helped me before in these situations, and it certainly wouldn't help me now. I had to go with my gut on this one— it was likely the only genuine thing I could force myself to act on.

My voice found the strength to work again in her presence. "Kawasaki."

She halted near the gates, frozen entirely. She stood there for a moment, quiet and motionless, like a painting from afar, her figure clashing heavily with the setting sun. I briefly thought of the moment as picturesque, but I bit my tongue in retaliation to my wandering mind. Now was hardly the appropriate time to wax poetic.

Still motionless, Kawasaki didn't even bother to turn towards me in response. Her voice was cold and level, betraying nothing of her emotional state or countenance. "What is it?"

Despite myself, my mind strayed towards my conversation with Mr. Isshiki from the previous night. "All you need to do... is be aggressively honest."

I didn't know if I could do that. I had barely started being honest with myself not too long ago, and to reveal my true emotions and feelings to others normally seemed impossible, much less in an aggressive manner. It was against my very nature as a seasoned loner to even consider the way of honesty, and to force it now would only result in sure disaster.

So yeah, 'aggressive honesty' or whatever was out of the question.

But I could certainly handle something like aggressive curiosity.

"Why did you show up to the party?" I asked, attempting to keep my voice as level and collected as hers.

A slight bout of hesitation filled the air from her end, and for a brief moment, I wondered if I had managed to break through and disrupt her demeanor. While not my desired effect, it could make the process of getting through to her a bit easier. I certainly wouldn't mind such a result.

But those hopes died when her stoic voice returned again. "Yuigahama and Yukinoshita politely asked me to attend. It was purely out of obligation."

I was keen to notice the difference in her usual manner of speech. She only spoke professionally at work, and even then it was limited. Hearing her speak with such resounding clarity was new for me— and honestly, a bit frightening.

Yet, I came out here for a reason. I wouldn't be deterred, even by her. "That's a lie."

My bold reply had its intended effect— Kawasaki turned her head towards me, donning that formerly familiar frown I used to see her wearing all the time. Back when she was Kawasaki the distant classmate, not Kawasaki the... whatever we are now. "What are you saying, Hikigaya?"

"I'm saying you came for more than simple obligation," I repeated. "You were expecting something."

Her eyes narrowed further, and it was becoming increasingly more of a challenge not to wilt in the face of her growing hostility. While not outwardly appearing to want to engage in physical violence, the look Kawasaki was shooting me was more than enough to nearly disarm me. "And just what do you base that assumption off of?"

"There's no assumption needed," I replied quickly, not allowing my brain the chance to even register that my mouth was quickly drying or that my heart was beating faster. "I know you. How you act, how you think. There was no way that you came to the party just to appease my clubmates."

"Oh, that's rich," Kawasaki rolled her eyes, greatly displeased with what I was saying. "Spend a few months around me, and all of a sudden you know me better than I know myself. Anything else you wanna enlighten me about, genius?"

"No," I replied forwardly. "I just want to know why you came."

"And am I obligated to answer that?" Kawasaki bit back sharply. "You think you can just run away from me when I'm at my most vulnerable, ignore me for days on end, and suddenly come back and ask me questions just because 'you know me?' Do you know how far up your own ass you sound right now?"

I felt myself growing increasingly defensive. "I'm sorry, which of us hasn't shown up to work in over a week?"

"Oh, my sincerest apologies," Kawasaki gestured dramatically. "I was a bit busy dealing with the shattered heart you left me with after you ran away from me."

I faltered for the first time. I already knew that I had left Kawasaki in a... less than ideal state of mind, but hearing it from her directly made me a feel a throng of emotions that did little to make me feel better about myself. I was still having trouble coming to terms with what I did, despite acknowledging it already— I ran away from her feelings. Plain and simple.

Like an idiot, my mouth moved before I could think of anything better to say in response. "I'm... sorry."

That just about did it for Kawasaki's cold and collected mask. "Oh, you're sorry? Well, that makes everything okay then!" Her fists clenched angrily, and her eyes looked ready to pop a few blood vessels. "The oh-so-great and honorable Hikigaya has admitted that he's sorry for what he did to me, and seeing as how he knows me so well, who am I to stay mad at him? How could I ever hate someone so noble and chivalrous?"

I decompressed the building tension compiling within myself, and let her words wash over me like a violent tidal wave. I knew this was coming the moment I made for the door on the rooftop that fateful night, and I would be the first to admit that I deserved it. This was the punishment I was owed for my cowardice. Her scathing remarks served as retribution for my weakness, and even though I had been expecting such a sequence of events, it still hurt a great deal to hear her mock me so indignantly.

Yet, it wasn't even the nature of her words that hurt the most. It was seeing how upset she had become. Kawasaki's face had contorted into a series of sharp and angry scowls and glares that nearly made me flinch reflexively. The pure bitterness exuding from her was a great contrast to how I was so used to seeing her— silent, yet simultaneously composed, taking in the world around her with a careful glance while remaining effortlessly relaxed and in control.

It came down to the notion that seeing her hurting made me hurt too. Even before her sudden confession I cared for her a great deal— not just as a classmate or coworker, but as an equal in all aspects. She was able to seamlessly follow my (admittedly convoluted) speech and mannerisms, understood the feelings of isolation that came with being a loner, and was an overall joy to be around. She was one of the rare people in this world who recognized the faults that came with my character, yet accepted me anyhow.

And I had ended up throwing that all away, simply because I was scared of what she felt towards me.

Kawasaki was still shaking, and her voice steadily rising. "Do you know how much it hurt seeing you leave? I spent months trying to build up the courage to finally confess to you. That night, I wanted to look my absolute best for you, and even though I didn't have the first clue of how to go about telling you how I really felt, on top of being scared and nervous, I went ahead and did it anyways. Because I felt that deep down, you really cared for me, even if you didn't show it all the time."

I wanted to stop her. Tell her that I absolutely did care for her, and that seeing her like this hurt me more than I could put into words. Tell her that even though I ran away, I didn't ever want her to go through something like this, especially because of my own idiocy and cowardice. I so desperately wanted all of her anger and worry and fear to go away, because a girl like her didn't deserve this kind of pain and heartbreak.

But I couldn't. My jaw was locked, and I felt my eyes started to lose the vigor they had when first falling onto Kawasaki's retreating figure. My earlier confidence began to evaporate— it had a habit of doing that— and I felt the beginnings of another guilt-induced silence begin to overtake me.

It was almost comical. Like clockwork, my trepidation and fear of change rendered me incompetent yet again. I would always try to convince myself otherwise, but in the end, I would likely never be able to shake who I was at heart. A spineless loner afraid of the very thing he desperately sought after.

My lack of a response encouraged Kawasaki to continue ranting. "Why, Hikigaya? I revealed everything to you. My feelings, my affections, everything I've been feeling for you for so, so long, right there in front of you. I know everyone hates you for who you are and what you do, but I thought I knew better than they did. I knew that you were different than the monster they always made you out to be. You're..." the intensity of her voice wavered for the first time that evening. "... you're kind. You're smart. You're sweet when you want to be. You're so much more amazing then you give yourself credit for, and... I wanted to show you that myself."

The desperate anger in her voice returned as quickly as it left. "But apparently that wasn't enough for you. Is that what it was, Hikigaya? Am I not good enough for you? Do you..." Kawasaki's eyes started to betray the hard indifference they were exuding. "... do you think less of me?"

While my thoughts were still a jumbled mess, I absolutely wouldn't allow for Kawasaki to attain the notion that she was inferior to anyone. "No! Kawasaki, I would never even begin to think of you as—"

"Then why else would you reject me, Hikigaya?!" Kawasaki's mask fell further, revealing a more desperate look. "Am I nothing compared to the other girls in your life? I'm sorry that I'm not as graceful as Yukinoshita, or as energetic and friendly as Yuigahama! I'm sorry that those girls are so much prettier and feminine than I am, and that they get to spend all their free time with you! I'm sorry that I couldn't ever hope to acclimate myself to your tastes!"

She allowed herself a small laugh next. A soulless, defeated exhale of air that was anything but comforting. "I mean, I had to make a ridiculous request just to get the chance for you to be around me. To finally look at me." Her eyes left mine and fell towards the ground. "You'll probably never know how happy I was to finally spend some time with you. I had so much fun, and I felt like... like I finally had a chance. Like I could make my dreams into reality. That there was hope for someone as plain and unfeminine as me."

And then she collapsed, falling onto her knees before me, refusing even to raise her head. I could do nothing but stare solemnly, partaking in what had now become our shared pain and self-loathing.

"But I guess that's where I went wrong. Expecting more than what I could hope to get," Kawasaki's voice was barely above a whisper now, nearly all of her earlier vigor gone and abandoned. "It isn't right for me to hope for anything better than what I already have in my life. I'm not blessed with stunning looks, or great intelligence, or a lot of money. I had to work tirelessly just to even get this far."

After the briefest of silences, the dam broke, and the tears I didn't know she had began to fall. "I-I'm just... I'm so tired..."

I was never one for remorse or pity. Such an emotion was utterly useless to me, serving only as a means of looking down on others while giving the false pretext that you gave a damn about them. As someone who despised being on the receiving end of such an emotion, I thought it proper to never allow myself the dishonor of lavishing it onto others. It was fair to me, something I chose to abide by near religiously.

But as I stood there, looking at the crying frame of a girl I thought to be among the strongest this world had to offer, I felt the flood of guilt washed away and replaced with something more intense. Foreign to me, but powerful all the same.

Kawasaki Saki had to put up with so much in her life. It was hard for her to make any friends, doubly so for her to keep them around. She had multiple younger siblings she had to take care of, taking the place of parents that were never around enough. She worked a job that featured her performing tasks way above her pay range, while having to deal with rowdy and thankless customers that constantly tried their luck with her— some more aggressively than others. Her own dreams were constantly in jeopardy for the sake of trying to ensure the lives around her were filled with joy and happiness. She did all that without anyone ever stopping to tell her that she was doing a good job, and that she deserved a break once in a while.

She was so strong. Stronger than anyone I had ever met before. So much so that I had nearly taken it for granted. There wasn't any way I could even hope of functioning under such conditions, much less managing a decent life for myself like she had. Kawasaki was amazing, and I believed that sentiment with every fiber of my being.

Yet, as the tears continued to flow from her, I was reminded that she was also human. A girl who had hopes and dreams of her own. Someone with complex emotions and beliefs and ideals as nuanced as anyone else's. I was a fool for forgetting that. My own cynicism and ignorance had blinded me from the human aspect that made Kawasaki more than what her physical wealth and worth made her out to be.

As strong as Kawasaki Saki was, even she wasn't invincible.

My body began to move on its own. I was still scared, only this time the paralysis that normally acquainted my fear had vanished. My head was still a horrendous mess— there were still so many things I needed to understand, and so many feelings and emotions that I had yet to grasp in my lifetime— but for a brief moment in time, everything made sense. I knew what needed to be done.

My feet shuffled closer to her. She didn't register nor acknowledge my presence. Lost in her own despair and anguish, she remained still as I lowered myself near her prone position on the concrete and wrapped my arms around her.

We stayed like that for an unknown amount of time, silently basking in the newfound warmth we found ourselves sharing. My former cowardice and dread was forgotten, replaced by yet another feeling I didn't know how to describe. It coursed through my veins quickly, warming and soothing at the same time. It was new, yet I didn't fear it. It felt... nice.

More time passed before she finally spoke again. Her tears continued to fall, and her voice was coarse from the sobbing. "Wha... what are you..." she couldn't finish the sentence.

"You... you were right about what you were saying," I started tentatively, speaking in a soft tone I didn't know I possessed. "You aren't Yukinoshita or Yuigahama."

I felt Kawasaki tense up immediately, but I quickly continued. "I think you're different... in a better way. With those two, I can more or less know how they're going to act around me. They follow the same routine, talk along the same topics, and we all continue on with the same song and dance we've been playing for more than a year now. It's predictable, sure, but no one will ever get hurt because of it. Nothing will ever change, and we'll all carry on with the surface-level interactions we've always been having."

I felt enlightened. The words were spilling from me effortlessly, as though I had already drafted them in my head. In a way, I suppose I already had, but had just been too afraid to ever admit them to myself. In a rare moment of honesty with myself, those compiling thoughts flew from my mouth and into the air around me, filling me with a distinct level of comfort I'd never felt before.

"But with you... I don't know. I can't tell how you're going to act. From the moment I met you, I haven't ever been able to get a good read on you. You're an enigma, someone I can't describe with a few quick words. In one moment you're carefree and relaxed, and in another you're cursing out people trying to ask for your number." I stopped to think briefly. "You keep me guessing, I suppose is what I'm trying to say."

I paused for a moment, carefully thinking about how to proceed. "I think... I think that's why I ran away from you. Because you're something different than what I'm used to. You represent a massive change in my lifestyle that I have yet to quantify or label. You're more than a simple coworker or classmate to me— you're a whole lot of things that I'm not sure I can name, even now."

Taking a small breath, I unconsciously felt myself wrap my arms around Kawasaki a little tighter. "I can't defend what I did to you. It was a shameless, deplorable act that I seriously regret doing. Leaving you alone like that was the absolute worst thing I could have done to you, and no amount of words could ever make up for my own cowardice."

My own voice started wavering. "B-But... I think I kind of get it now. Little by little, it's starting to make sense. That change that used to scare me so much... doesn't look as bad now."

Kawasaki's head, in a painfully slow manner, made its way up to me. Her eyes, red and puffy from the tears, looked into my own uncertain ones with what I could definitively say wasn't anger. Confusion, wariness... and the faintest traces of hope.

"I know I'm a dumbass, an idiot, and a coward, among plenty of other things," I continued. No turning back now. "But I'm starting to get used to all this change around me. I don't know how I feel about it yet, but... I'm willing to take a chance on it. So, until I figure out what it is that I'm feeling... could you..."

I felt my voice failing, and that familiar bout of indecisiveness returning yet again. But I knew better this time— I wouldn't allow my own complacency and fear to control me again. I would see this through to the end, no matter what.

"Could you... stay with me?"

There it was. As she had done with me previously, I had revealed myself to her entirely. There was still a lot for me to think about— I didn't even know where to begin in search of understanding what these new feelings were, and what it meant for me in the long run— but the fact that I was even willing to learn about them represented a momentous change for me. I could only hope that she didn't choose to flee from me in a sudden spike of nerves and self-doubt, but I wouldn't blame her if she did. That would likely serve as one of the tamer punishment Karma had in store for me in the near future.

But, as I felt Kawasaki slowly loop her own arms around my back, I had reason to believe that she wouldn't be running from me any time soon.

"You'll still keep me company to and from work... right?"

Fully acknowledging the sudden intimacy we were sharing, I replied with full assurance. "I will."

"A-and... you'll still talk to me outside of work... right?"

"I will."

"Y-You..." Kawasaki began softly, voice beginning to clear up. "You promise?"

I nodded faintly. "On my honor as a Hikigaya."

I didn't know what I was expecting, but a soft, genuine laugh wasn't it. "Don't s-say it like that, idiot... makes you sound dumb..."

I couldn't find it within myself to laugh— I was pretty emotionally drained for the day— but I could take the time to admire how much brighter Kawasaki appeared to be. Seeing her happy elicited an abstract warmth that I had trouble trying to contain. I suppose that was yet another mystery I had to solve in the coming days.

There was also the topic of Kawasaki still being seriously in love with me, but that could wait until tomorrow. It was getting dark out, and I doubted that authorities would appreciate seeing two emotional teenagers awkwardly hugging each other on the sidewalk past school hours.

I stood up first, offering my hand to her as I did so. She took it gladly, smiling as she did so. She didn't let it go after she regained her footing.

"I can walk you home..." I offered carefully. "If you'd like, that is."

Kawasaki's smile grew. "I'd very much appreciate that."

We started in the direction of her home, only to be interrupted by the sound of my stomach rumbling. A look at Kawasaki revealed her to be holding back a small chuckle.

"I... probably should have grabbed some more cake."

She nodded in agreement. "You're welcome, by the way. That was my contribution to the party."

This time, I did laugh. I was surprised by how effortless and natural it felt. "Good call. Guess you know me pretty well after all, huh?"

We started walking again, and I faintly heard her response as we moved in tandem with each other.

"More than you may ever know."

---

That was long. Might be my longest chapter to date. Will have to check that out later.

I can't recall if Iroha's parents are established in the light novel or not, so I took the liberty of making them into kinda-OC's. If they aren't established, fantastic, because I genuinely love writing Daddy-cop. If they are, well, I can only hope I don't seriously anger the OreGairu Purists out there.

Sorry if this chapter was a little angsty. This is OreGairu, so I can't make everything sunshine and rainbows all the time. A bit of emotional drama does well for a story, especially if it's used properly. I hope you all found it to your liking.

I know this feels like an ending chapter, but we still have a few more chapters to go before I can deem this story a finished product. Don't worry, lots of fluff and cute stuff is coming. I have a feeling y'all will like it a lot. Stay tuned.

You all know the standard procedure— Favs, Follows and Reviews are greatly appreciated, I love all of the support you give me, such and such. We're almost front page, boys and girls. I can smell it.

Have fun and stay safe this summer. Wishing you all the best in whatever endeavors life has you undergo. Keep it cool.

~Slalem