CHAPTER XI

…

Yumiko's father has always valued education and hard work. Far as I knew, Miura Saito was a top graduate from med school who at some point in his life worked in politics before retiring as a physician, currently practicing nuclear medicine at Inage. "If you work hard and study hard, and you fuck up, that's okay. But if you fuck up and then fuck up, then you're a fuck-up," is a line I've heard him say to his daughter on one time. But there are a lot of other factors besides effort that go into a successful and enjoyable school experience. Probably the most important one is how you fit in socially, which I had to learn the hard way.

While I was an outcast and a loner, having to do things by myself Yumiko was quite the opposite. She had all the opportunities available to her, being one of the most popular students in class, and could easily ace the exams if she wanted to. She can be really smart if she made the effort. Contrary to what I wanted to believe, Yumiko wasn't the average, dumb riajuu. In fact, as time passed I realized she might actually be academically more proficient than I am. She's one of the top students in an elite university, could speak English well and excelled in her major course.

That Monday afternoon, I was at the Miura house in Konakadai district, invited by my friend. After the brief holiday vacation, the exam results of the second semester were revealed. I got average marks on every test, not failing but not remarkable either - all within the 40% minority in the class.

Saito-san sat across me in the living room, sitting in his armchair. He was carefully looking over a blue card. Yumiko passed her exams with flying colors, and this was impressive since only weeks ago she had gotten unusually poor grades in her subjects.

"Not bad," Saito-san muttered to himself, giving a rare smile. "Not bad at all. Hikigaya-san, thank you for helping my little girl."

"Don't mention it, sir. Just doing my friend a favor," I said.

Yumiko was upstairs in her room changing clothes, while her father and I talked over coffee. Saito-san said quietly, "I heard you accompanied Yumi-chan at the gala hosted by the Yukinoshitas?"

"Yes sir."

"Her grandmother was there?" He asked curiously.

I nodded. "Miura-sama was present," I told him, remembering that she was indeed there at the party. Although we did not speak much that time, Miyako-sama noticed me and Hanzo. She was closely followed by one of her sons, the attorney. "And so was Yumiko-chan's uncle."

"Hmm… I see."

I was slightly puzzled as it seemed that Saito-san held some kind of aversion towards Miyako-sama, so much that he does not call her by her name and instead refer to her merely as "Yumiko's grandmother". He spoke of his mother in an unsympathetic yet respectful voice. Saito-san continued.

"To tell you the truth, I do not enjoy much the idea of Yumiko being around with my mother," he said, furrowing his eyebrows and glancing at me. "Not out of malice, of course. But Miura-sama… Hikigaya-san, do you think she cares about Yumi-chan?"

"I have no opinions of her," I answered.

"Ah, but you must at least have an impression of her."

"I think Miura-sama should be able to see her granddaughter. They're family, after all."

"She values her business more than her own family," Saito-san scoffed bitterly. "If she takes a liking to my kid, it's because she's of value to her, and can be used."

I remained silent at that. I would've wanted to differ, but it has always been one of my personal principles not to meddle and get involved with the personal lives of other people. Out of respect for the person. The only exception to that is family. However, if you do decide to get involved, you had better make sure you do not fail. That's the only other exception.

Footsteps were heard as Yumiko reappeared, going down the staircase and walking into the room. She was now wearing a pair of jeans, a white T-shirt and sneakers, ready to go out. She was in a good mood today. Her father turned his head and his expression changed into a dubious look. Yumiko insisted that we both leave now, before her father started giving her a lecture again. She was going to hang out with her friends again, finally relieved of the stresses of the second semester.

I inwardly grinned in satisfaction. Not bad, I thought. But of course, if I may be so boastful, Yumiko straightening herself out was also on my part; indeed, I had helped her turn her marks around just in time before the second semester exams and before the third semester rolled around. She now had one of the highest results in her class. About three weeks ago, this wasn't the case.

Yumiko got back together with her clique since I'd helped her get in touch with them, and now she's hanging out with Tobe, Yui and Ebina more often. Sometimes I also tagged along when we went to hit the bars and do karaoke. Yumiko's popularity preceded her and she wasn't just known around Yotsukaido. Guys were always trying to flirt with her, to no avail. Yes, it annoyed me but I didn't mind.

But with her newfound happiness and social life, she started to neglect her classes. And when Yumiko received mediocre progress reports from the first semester, and three flunks in three major subjects that week, she knew it wasn't good, but she didn't think it was that bad. I thought otherwise.

"Not that bad? This ain't Harvard University, Yumiko. This is just Aikoku-Gakuen! Look at this shit!" I said, holding her progress report up. "You got a fucking C in college journalism? How does that even happen? You work for the New York Times? Couldn't break that big corruption story? Yare yare… unbelievable."

You may be wondering why I was unusually snappy that time. I had just lost almost a million yen in a botched bet on a baseball game. We'd arranged another point-shaving scheme that week as a dry-run for the big winter playoffs, to see if we could really get into the big stakes. Hanzo had just gotten his own legal betting license, and I was fronting as a sports promoter - aka, a bookmaker running illicit sports gambling schemes. But one of the hitters went rogue and started scoring. It was awful. Lotte Marines was supposed to lose to the Seibu Lions by a 20-point spread. Then, only yesterday, there was an incident with a man who borrowed money from a loan-shark and didn't pay it off. I had to deal with the news that one of our guys had to 'take care of' the man because he threatened to go to the police. I was disgusted.

Anyways. Usually, I was calm and collected and only jested humorously when around friends, just to fit in. It was more of me and my temper becoming influenced by Yumiko's iconic fiery fits, and this time I was taking it out on her. I'd come over to her house that evening to ask her for help on a little essay, only to find the blue report card on the dining table. Out of curiosity I took a glance.

I continued. "And isn't Aikoku-Gakuen famous for their musical and performing arts? I haven't seen you play music or perform in a festival. Kinda defeats the goddamn point of enrolling in a supposedly elite school," I added.

Yumiko was indignant. "W-Well… hey, but I do know how to play music and sing! Just you wait. And I've beaten you dozens of times now in chess. You're one to talk!"

"Yeah, but nobody really cares about any of those things. It doesn't change the fact that you might repeat a year because of your failing grades in mathematics." I breathed, before continuing. "Okay. For the whole next week, you're going to only study. No going out with your friends. No messing around. Forget the holidays. Because if you fail the second exams, you'll be spending the next consecutive weeks in cram school. I'm going to come by your house and I'll help you out. Don't even think about running off, or I'll tell your father about your marks."

"What?!" She yelled. "That's ridiculous! Lots of my friends get worse grades than I do - hell, you flunked from your math class as well Hachi, you dumbass! And- and it's a progress report, it's not even going on my permanent record!" She protested angrily, almost mincing her words together.

"Blah-blah-blah, you're full of excuses, Yumiko. I don't want to hear it. First of all, you're too smart for grades like this. I know you. Your friends are all dumber than you are, so don't compare yourself to them. Second of all, don't compare yourself with me, because I'm not the one who's about to flunk this time. It just means you were lazy and didn't do shit," I scolded her in a stern voice. "You're not going anywhere until you ace the exams. For once, try to sit your ass at home."

"T-This… ugh! This is unbelievable!" She cried, glaring at me frustratedly, her cheeks flushed red now. "You're putting me in prison! This is prison!" She stood right in front of me and threw both of her arms outwards, pertaining to the entirety of her huge and fancy living room. "For a C+!"

"Oh, spare me. Being stuck in your mansion is not like prison," I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "You don't have to worry about being gang-raped in your house." She stared at me furiously before growling and breaking away.

The subject that was dragging her down the most was mathematics, but she wasn't alone. Like Yumiko said, she wasn't the only one getting poor grades at school. Three-fourths of her class received an F, including her. Her teacher, Professor Katsuragi was a real tough guy, and he often told his class that he wasn't going to hold their hands. They either got it, or he'd flunk them out.

On the first evening of her "imprisonment", I came over from school and work, tossed aside my drenched overcoat, and let myself into Yumiko's house. It was raining coldly, but that didn't stop me. She reluctantly led me up to her room.

"Get out your textbooks. We're going to cure this severe case of the stupids," I said, pointing at a stack of books underneath a pile of her dirty clothes. Her room was stuffy and it reeked of perfume. "Good grief, open a window, it smells like you in here," I added.

"Hoh? What about it?" She pouted.

"Well, I don't know. Like toilet water or something."

"What're you talking about?" She barked, her face growing redder. "I don't smell like that!"

"Nevermind," I sighed.

As we started to go through the book, I realized that not only did Yumiko not know how to do any of the problems, she also didn't understand the basics she needed to even tackle them. Which was surprising, because Yumiko normally did well in math - even better than me in some degrees. The current topic was actually difficult, even I wouldn't be able to easily understand it.

"They didn't teach you this shit?" I asked. She told me they hadn't, and then she told me about what the professor had said about either getting it or flunking out. "What? That's bullshit. What kind of asshole says something like that? Me and this professor are having a chat. I'm coming to your goddamned school tomorrow."

Yumiko panicked. "Don't you dare. You'll embarrass me."

"Woman, I'm not even going to start on how you make me feel," I retorted. "What am I gonna say? You're good-looking and all, but you're not special."

"Shut up, you!" She snapped angrily, hiding her face. "Fuck you and your standards… you're worse than me."

The next day, Yumiko sat at her desk during homeroom, terrified that at any moment I would show up. You know that feeling you get when you're going up a huge climb on a roller coaster, waiting for that first big drop to come? Imagine that, but then imagine too that you have diarrhea. Which she happened to have that day due to a combination of kimchi and spicy snail noodles, and a bottle of coke she'd been drinking that morning without breakfast. She must be praying that I don't burst into her classroom while she was on the toilet.

Then, during fourth period she saw me out in the hallway being pointed to her English classroom by a janitor. I walked over and waited by the door, pacing back and forth, holding one of my hands in my waistcoat and the other folded behind me. I was in a hurry that day because it happened that I had an appointment with one of our associates from the union, and I despised being late. My driver was waiting in the car by the gate when I strolled into the private university ostensibly. First thing I noticed was that there seemed to be a lot of girls in this school, and that there were eyes watching me. Yumiko slumped in her chair dreadfully.

"Hey, who's that?" One of her female classmates asked, pointing at the mysterious man in a blue overcoat and white fedora hat, who was standing outside of the door.

"I bet that dude's a freaking crime detective or some shit," another girl guessed.

"He's not," Yumiko muttered nervously.

"You know him, Yumi-chan?"

"Is he your new boyfriend?" One of her friends insisted. "He looks really cool. What's his name?"

When the bell rang, she walked out into the hallway. I went up to her and said, "grab your shit. Let's go see your sensei."

"W-What are you doing here?" She whispered urgently. "Why didn't you- get out of here! This is an all-girls campus!" She stammered.

"Do I look like I care?" I huffed. "Don't worry. I'll deal with him."

"Please, Hachiman," she pleaded. The surrounding students were starting to look at us. "Don't talk to my professor. I don't want to get in trouble, I'm sorry." She looked really scared. "C-Can't we just do this another time? Or at least after school, Hachiman? Why do you have to do this during school?"

"Yumiko, relax. I just want to chat to the man. I'm not going to rip his head off and shit down his throat," I humorously retorted, smiling. "Unless he provokes me."

We walked up a flight of stairs to the third floor and down the hallway until we reached the classroom where her mathematics class met. Students were already starting to file in, and her intimidating professor was sitting in the corner behind his desk. He was old, had a balding head and all of the girls in the class seemed to know how to shut up while he's in the room. I marched into the room and walked right up to him. Yumiko lingered in the hallway, trying not to be seen.

"You're the math professor?" I asked with a smile.

Her math professor looked at me, annoyed. "I am. Can I help you?"

The twenty or so students who were already seated took notice.

"That there, outside, is my friend. She's in your class," I said, pointing at the doorway where she was supposed to be standing in. Yumiko swiftly ducked behind the wall. "Yumiko-chan, what are you doing? Come here."

She came out of the hallway and into the classroom and walked up the podium beside me, trying to hide herself from the full view of the class. She was red as a tomato. She was holding my arm tightly and shakily. Everyone was staring at us, dead silent.

"Now, you're flunking her, and that's fine. If she deserves to flunk, then flunk her ass out. But when I went through the math with her, she didn't even know the basic concepts, and said you never taught them," I said.

Her professor responded haughtily. "This is an advanced calculus and geometry class, and if the students can't follow along, they should transfer to a class that's more suited to their skill level," he said brusquely. "I've been teaching this class for twenty years the same way."

"I don't give a good goddamn how long you've been teaching this class." Everyone fell even more silent. I pointed at Yumiko to my side, who probably felt like a tiny mouse by now from all the eyes watching us. "She tells me that all these kids are flunking out, and they all think they're losers," I said coldly, as I turned around and pointed at all of the female students sitting in the class - who Yumiko knew for the most part, hadn't thought they were losers. Now, it was the other girls' turn to blush.

"That's when I got a problem," I added finally.

At that point Professor Katsuragi must've realized that he wasn't dealing with a normal, snotty individual, but rather with someone who was making him look like an idiot in front of his students. So he took our debacle outside. Yumiko sank into an empty seat, her legs weak from all that standing in front of a crowd. She looked frightened. All of her classmates were staring at her, as the room was almost full now. She avoided all eye contact. Every few seconds or so they'd hear words and phrases coming from the outside: their professor yelling "I will not tolerate this!" Followed by me responding, "No, no! You will tolerate it!"

"Damn. Your boyfriend is making Katsuragi-san his bitch. Niiiiice," the delinquent-looking girl beside Yumiko said, smiling.

"Wow… he's really cool," another student said, wide-eyed.

"I can't believe he just called us losers!" Another one cried, pouting bashfully. "He's so… that was so… hmph!"

The whole class started giggling and murmuring, leaving Yumiko in a mess. They learned a few things today: one, that guy was on a first-name basis with Yumiko. And two, but he only said that Yumiko was his friend, not his girlfriend. This little detail held appealing nuances in it.

After a few minutes, the professor went back inside, having finished our argument, his leathery face now a little more bronzed with fury. I walked into the classroom as well, right up to where Yumiko was seated at her desk.

"Don't worry about paying attention, you're transferring classes tomorrow," I whispered to her, before leaning in and planting a quick kiss on her forehead, before exiting. I think a noise went up as I left the classroom.

Thus evens our score. Remember when she caused a scene at my school? What, did you really think I'd let that slide past easily without a revenge of some sort? Now we're both even.

At dinner that night, Yumiko burst out in a fit. "Why are you acting as if nothing had happened?!" She screamed. "Oh my God… you just ruined my whole life. What'll my friends say about this? This is so embarrassing…"

I sat beside her on the couch in the living room, while she sulked and buried her face in a pillow. I looked at her sympathetically.

"Let's be honest. You're not Einstein, but don't let assholes like that professor make you feel stupid. You're plenty smart, Yumiko, and good at other stuff. You know that, right?"

She refused to even glance at me. After a while, she spoke in a barely audible voice.

"Yeah…"

"Don't just say 'yeah' like a bitch. You're acting like a little girl who'd just gotten a scolding," I said, making her finally turn towards me, rather angrily. I looked at her expectantly. "Let me hear you say it. Say you're good at stuff."

She breathed in, but decided not to argue anymore. "I'm good at stuff…" she sighed, and slumped towards me, resting her head against my shoulder. I stroked her hair, aware that she hated being touched, which annoyed her even further.

"That's right. You're good at stuff. Forget that math professor," I said. "Oh, one last thing," I added. "Tomorrow, see your counselor before you go to class. I think they're transferring you to one of those math classes where everybody uses their calculators for everything." She started crying and throwing punches miserably at me again.

After that, she began to behave a bit more demurely towards me and would think twice before making a scene to embarrass me. On the upside, it seemed that the professor reconsidered his teaching methods and, against his will, was now more gentle to his students. Yumiko didn't have to transfer classes at all. I think the dean himself was spooked by my sudden appearance, and instead set on placating me from any further reactions. It was uncomfortable to raise hell in front of all those people. I had to pretend to be bold. But that's something I might've picked up from my friend: audacity.

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Here's another lighthearted chapter.

Thanks for the reviews, really helpful. I know some of you are starting to get bored, so I'm trying to find the perfect order to release the chapters. Because if I drag the story too slow, it gets boring. But too fast, it doesn't make sense. One of the reasons that I wanted to write this story was just to explore funny and provoking scenarios like this one. (Yes, this storyline is somehow related to my other fic, "Romantic Comedy Unexpectedly Done Right?") I hope you enjoyed it!