"... ah, look at the time. I suppose we'll stop there for today. Don't forget, your papers on human neuroticism are due a week from today!" Hiratsuka Shizuka allowed a soft sigh of her own. "Damn brats. They probably aren't even listening to me."
True to her word, her formerly muted high school class had immediately delved into noise and conversation, groups of students congregating toward their cliques to discuss the day's happenings, or, in Hiratsuka's mind, bemoan how boring her Modern Japanese classes were. Most were excitedly gathering their things in preparation to leave, eager to get to their after-school sessions or extracurriculars, or whatever it was kids did these days.
Most were, she reminded herself. There was always one student who seemed lackadaisical in their preparation to leave, slowly putting his things away in his bag after stretching his back in what looked to be exhaustion. From what, Hiratsuka couldn't hope to guess, but it didn't really matter.
She could always mess with him, in any case.
"Hikigaya," the older woman called out. "Repeat what I just said."
"Hngh?" The party in question grunted intelligently, eyes coming back into focus for what looked like the first time in hours. Said eyes weren't much to look at, ironically, and the rest of his person, from the messy way his black hair sat atop his head to the way his posture seemed to be in a perpetual slouch, didn't inspire much in the way of confidence or approachability.
She almost felt bad for picking on him like this. Almost.
"You heard me," Hiratsuka beckoned. "What did I just say?"
"My name," the boy snarked in a low voice. Hiratsuka was impressed—for as dead as he looked, his quips were still in top shape.
"No, before that." She decided to give him a chance to redeem himself. "What did I say to remember?"
A brief pause. "That our papers are due next week."
"And what are they on?"
The next pause was longer. "... human psychology?"
"Too vague. Try again."
The tiniest of winces surfaced on the young man's face. He clearly wasn't comfortable. Good, served him right for thinking he could catch a nap in her class.
"The... uh... relationship between homo sapiens and other forms of early humans?" Hikigaya ventured.
She smirked. "That was last month. I'm pleasantly surprised you remembered."
"Leave me alone," Hikigaya Hachiman groaned, quickly tiring of the back-and-forth. Shizuka wasn't done quite yet, however. "I will if you promise me zero smartass comments in your paper."
"I promise, sensei."
"I mean it, Hikigaya. If I catch even a hint of underlying cynicism or nihilism on that piece of paper, you're in for it."
The teen rolled his eyes. "What? Gonna strong-arm me into joining another club?"
"I think your current one already has you on a tight enough leash." Shizuka turned to their unsuspecting third member. "Am I right, Yuigahama?"
"Eh?" The girl in question almost shouted in surprise. She didn't think she'd have been noticed, between the two of them arguing. Not that she was hiding or anything! "W-well, I mean, we don't treat him like a dog, or anything..."
Hikigaya scoffed. "I would hope not, considering your track record with your own dog."
"Hey!"
"Good to see you two are still going strong." Shizuka packed her bag, adjusting her coat. "See you kids tomorrow. Have Yukinoshita bring me the room key when you're all done in there." And she was off.
It was just Hikigaya and Yuigahama left in the classroom. As much as he would have liked to think otherwise, there was no delaying the inevitable. With a sigh, Hikigaya slung his bag over his shoulder. "You ready?"
A stupid question, going off of the cheerful smile on the girl's face. "Yup!"
It was so, so boring.
Granted, it was usually this way in the clubroom, and he was better for it. A boring day in the Service Club meant no asinine requests for help, or pleas for help brainstorming some silly event, or annoying underclassmen begging for unpaid slave labor. As a victim of all three circumstances, having nothing to do in a quiet room was a much preferred alternative. Peace was what all warriors strove for, after all.
But that wasn't to say that the current predicament was without issue. In all his profound genius, he'd left his beloved light novel at home—when he was so close to finishing it, too! Considering that he wasn't terminally online like Yuigahama, or addicted to making tea like Yukinoshita, he'd been left to his own devices in entertaining himself for the hour.
How many tiles were on the ceiling? What was written on the old whiteboard in the corner? If presented with the choice, would he prefer to have the sharingan or the rinnegan?
It was only just after deciding that the rinnegan had more practical uses in day-to-day life that a regal, esteemed voice blessed all present with its feminine, godly sound. "Do you mind?"
Yuigahama looked up from her phone. Seeing as Hikigaya was the only person Yukinoshita ever directly spoke to so callously, it was fair to assume she was addressing him. "Do I mind what?"
"Whatever it is you're doing. Would you mind stopping?" The resplendently beautiful and lethally quick-tongued Yukinoshita Yukino spoke without so much as granting him eye contact, flipping the page of her novel all the while. "You're shaking the table. It's distracting."
Yeah, of course she'd only notice his plight when it was an inconvenience to her. Bitch. "My bad," he acquiesced, removing himself from his relaxed position on the table and leaning back into his decidedly less comfortable chair.
She wasn't through with him yet, it seemed. "While I do feel bad for those poor ceiling tiles you were staring at—without consent, might I add—I must ask why you would resort to such tedium as opposed to your..." her brows knitted in distaste. "... other forms of entertainment."
So she'd noticed. Great. "I left my novel at home."
"Truly?" Another flip of the page. "Then perhaps there is hope for you yet."
"On accident," Hikigaya quickly clarified. "I didn't throw it out or anything."
"I can only hope that dear Komachi would do so in your stead." She took a sip of her tea, as delicate and queenly as one would see in an old painting. "How is she, by the way?"
"Fine," he answered plainly. He didn't really meddle in the affairs of his younger sister. Not for a lack of trying, at least. He turned to Yuigahama. "You took her out shopping last weekend, didn't you?"
The memory seemed to ignite the girl, who had previously been quiet throughout his exchange with Yukinoshita. "Mhm! We had lots of fun! She's got, like, a really good eye for fashion!"
That wasn't surprising. "Thanks. She would have bugged me to go with her if you hadn't stepped in for me." An idea suddenly struck him. "Wait, you have her contact information, right?"
"Hikki, who says contact information anymore?" Met with the teen's unyielding gaze, the girl relented. "Yes, I do. Why?"
"Whenever she wants to go out somewhere, would you mind tagging along with her?" Why hadn't he thought of this sooner? He could save hours of free time this way! Vita-chan and PC-kun would never know loneliness again!
"The depths of your lethargy is unsurprising," Yukinoshita put her book down, eyeing him with a glare. "That you would foist your responsibility unto an unsuspecting Yuigahama, however, is despicable. Even by your standards."
"You're free to go with them if you're feeling lonely," Hikigaya quickly shot back. "Not like I'm the best judge of fashion, anyway. I'm sure Komachi would much rather appreciate your opinion than mine."
"That isn't—!" Yukinoshita tried to answer back with her usual zeal, but the small tinge of red on her face made her usual bite little more than a nibble.
Whatever she was going to say was promptly ignored by a ding from his phone. Speak of the little sister, and so she shall virtually appear.
"Out of ice cream, pick some up on ur way home? U know my fav. Thanks~~"
That little brat. Who was foisting responsibility now? Hikigaya eyed the time on his phone—quarter 'till the hour. He'd be leaving early, but then again, did anyone care?
Packing up what little he had, he prepared to leave. "I'm heading home. Komachi needs groceries."
"Club is yet to be adjourned, Hikigaya."
"Do you really think anyone's coming this late in the day?" Yukinoshita's lack of a response was answer enough. "You two should start heading home, too. Been getting darker out earlier these days."
Yuigahama put a hand to her mouth in shock. "Omigosh, Hikki, was that... concern?"
"Omigosh, um, like, yes?" Hikigaya snarked back in an admittedly poor imitation of the girl's voice. "What, am I not allowed to hope you two get home safely?"
"You are! It's just..." Yuigahama looked to be having trouble with what she wanted to say. Not all that unusual, knowing her. "It's... kinda nice, I guess."
Great, now she'd made things all mushy and awkward. She just had to open her big, dumb mouth. And now his stupid face was all hot, and he was probably some ugly, embarrassing shade of red. Awesome. Fantastic.
Was it so outlandish for him to care about the two of them? For as often as he verbally jousted with Yukinoshita, and as much as Yuigahama got on his nerves, they were still... acquaintances. He could wish for them to be safe during their respective walks back home. He could hope for their general wellbeing instead of falling back on his usual apathy.
Though he'd rather off himself than admit this aloud to either of them, there was that small, minute part of him that looked forward to seeing them every day. And for as much as he thought he hid it, he was sure the two young women across from him knew, to some extent. He kept coming back to the club, after all. So yeah, silently wishing for their continued health shouldn't have been that much of a shock to them.
"Whatever," he settled on saying in the present. Then, in a move that would have given his old self a heart attack, he continued. "You're free to come with, if you want."
There. Not too needy or familiar, but casual enough so that the option to decline was obvious, but not hurtful. Though, the offer seemed to surprise the two women present more than him. Yuigahama's grip on her phone had tightened considerably, while Yukinoshita's eyes had widened a tad.
He stood there for a silent moment, waiting for the two of them to say literally anything. "Well?"
To his surprise, it was Yukinoshita who spoke up first. "The offer is... appreciated, Hikigaya. Truly."
There seemed to be a but coming. "But...?"
"... I'd like to stay for the full hour. Just in the off chance that anyone requires our services." She took a breath. "As club president, it is my responsibility to do so."
Yeah, that should have been expected. Pragmatic and no-nonsense as ever. "Got it." He turned to Yuigahama. "You too?"
She seemed to be grappling with it even more than Yukinoshita was. "I..." she started, stopped and started again. "I'll keep her company. She shouldn't be alone for a request, in case one pops up." She bowed. "Sorry, Hikki."
What was she apologizing for? It was hardly that big of a deal. "It's cool." Sure, it hurt a little, but it was only a simple gesture, at the end of the day. It wasn't some grand idea that would—
"Next time."
Hikigaya turned. Yukinoshita hadn't moved from her seat, but there was something to her gaze that was different. There was a softer look, though she looked to be warring with something internally.
Her face was flushed, but she kept speaking from across the room. "U-um, that is to say, tomorrow. We can... we can all leave together tomorrow. Granted you stay for the entire hour, and circumstances permit as much."
In normal-person speak, that meant that she was open to the idea so long as there weren't any outstanding requests to attend to. So then... she'd said yes. Technically speaking, anyway.
"Y-yeah!" Yuigahama added with as much cheer as she could muster. "Let's do it! We can make it, like, a regular thing between us!"
"Let's not go that far," Hikigaya quickly shot down. He was still a man who preferred his alone time, after all.
Still... "Thanks." The word felt so weird and alien leaving his mouth. Especially considering who it was he was saying it to. "I'll see you all tomorrow, then." And those weird, silly words brought him some undeniable sense of comfort.
Yuigahama nodded, excited. "Bye bye, Hikki! See you tomorrow!" Yukinoshita smiled—a soft, tiny curve of her lips, reserved and humble. But it was a smile all the same.
"Goodbye, Hikigaya. I'll see you tomorrow."
The sun was going down. Golden hour was upon him. Not that he cared much for the scenery or anything, because that would make him soft.
Wheeling his trusty steed of many years from the bike racks, he recounted his errands that needed attending to. He had enough money for a few snacks on his way home. Kamakura was running low on cat food, woe unto him. And Komachi still wanted her ice cream.
Was this what being an adult was like? But also with an eight-hour job, and bills and essentials to pay for? That sucked. Maybe youth wasn't so bad after all. He was still mooching off of his parents, at least.
He neared the gate as another conundrum infiltrated his head. Quite honestly, he didn't know Komachi's favorite ice cream. When she was younger, it was mint-chocolate chip. They'd gone to war over tubs of those things in previous years. But in recent weeks, he'd seen her annihilating spoonfuls of banana split. She said he knew her favorite, but how was he supposed to—
Something happened. It was spontaneous, and forceful. Hikigaya crashed to the ground, taking his bike along with him. It was like the gravity of the world had increased tenfold, combined with some sudden feeling of lightheadedness on his part. Whatever it was, it was brief, barely more than a second.
A ringing in his ears assaulted his hearing, but aside from that, he was fine. Regaining the feeling in his legs, he returned to his feet, ensuring his dear bike had survived the tumble. Once he was certain his bike was okay he inspected himself, and then his surroundings.
Had he tripped? There was no obvious debris anywhere that might have messed with his footing. All he'd done was cross through the school's threshold, past the gates. He'd never tripped on anything there before. Weird.
The sun was still setting, and the school still loomed behind him, silently watching his departure. Hikigaya thought for a moment longer, before settling on a shrug. Maybe he'd tripped over his own feet. Maybe his sudden lightheadedness was because he was dehydrated, or tired. Maybe he was finally going insane. Whatever.
The rest of the journey home was uneventful. Snacks were acquired, Kamakura's overpriced cat food was purchased, and Komachi's ice cream stash was replenished. He hoped she still liked mint-chocolate.
He returned home shortly after, the sun having nearly set fully by the time he arrived. He returned his bike to its stand and entered the front door. "I'm home," he announced. No response was heard from inside. Placing his shoes near the entrance, the young man entered his living room.
It was empty. The lights weren't even on. Weird, considering that Komachi was probably home. Speaking of... "Komachi, I've got your ice cream."
Not a peep. Doubling back to the entrance, he saw her own shoes placed neatly by the shoe rack. She was definitely home, then. Was she sleeping?
"Oh well," he shrugged. No use worrying about it if she was already home. Maybe she'd had a long day. He put her ice cream in the freezer, turned on the lights, and flicked on the TV. Seemed he was on his own for dinner.
Popping a pizza in the oven, the teen went to his room and changed into his comfort wear, dropping off his school stuff on the way. He planted himself in front of the TV, watching some silly game show he was only half-paying attention to. He got to work on his snacks in the meantime, some chips that were probably ridiculously bad for him.
A surprise presence announced itself by jumping on the couch—Kamakura. Hachiman hummed in greeting. "Rare for you to hang with me." The teen knew better than that, though. "Hang on, I've got your food somewhere on the—"
He was interrupted by the cat nudging his hand expectantly. "Okay..." Hachiman raised a brow. "Do you want one of the chips?" He didn't know what effect a chip would have on a cat, but the family pet seemed weirdly insistent on trying one. "Fine, you can have one. Don't tell anyone though, alright?"
He offered the snack to the cat, watching as it sniffed around the treat. After a few seconds, however, it nudged the treat away, continuing to rub against the underside of his hand. Hachiman was more than a little surprised. Since when had Kamakura ever been this aggressive?
It was a bit presumptuous of him to assume, but... "Do you want me to pet you?" Ignoring the optics of him attempting to have a conversation with a cat out loud, this was new territory for him. Rare were the instances in which he was allowed to pet Kamakura. Even when the cat was asleep, any contact would immediately prompt the animal to wake up and relocate, usually to somewhere near Komachi. It was widely accepted that Kamakura was her cat, and that Hachiman was lowest on the family totem pole.
So, this was... weird. Very much so. Maybe it was due to him being the only able-bodied human around to pamper him? His parents were off at work, and his sister was off doing... whatever in her room. Kamakura was making do with what he had. Even so, it was odd that he was this receptive to Hachiman's touch.
He wouldn't complain, though, as his non-chip hand gently stroked the cat's soft, welcoming fur. This was kind of nice. He could definitely see why the cat had so much appeal among the family. Certainly better than that mangy mutt Yuigahama owned. The high-schooler sank further into the couch as the cat settled on his stomach, purring.
They stayed like that for a time, but all good things came to an end eventually. As the oven loudly proclaimed the finishing of his pizza, he reluctantly removed the cat from his stomach. "Sorry. Maybe we can continue this tomorrow." The cat meowed in what might have been assent, prompting what was probably a big, goofy grin on his face. "Good boy."
Hachiman made quick work of his pizza, feeling sleep coming fast. Maybe Komachi was onto something when she'd hit the hay early. He didn't feel any urge to study, read, do some gaming, or even choke the ol' chicken. He didn't know where this tired spell came from, but maybe a full eight-or-more hours would do him some good.
He downed the rest of his water and washed his sole plate, noticing the other piece of china sitting idly in the sink. Seeing as there were no cooking utensils or the like out, it might have been Komachi's... but then it couldn't have been. That would imply that she had a snack or a store-bought meal, which was impossible since she loathed store-bought. It was why she had taken to cooking like she had.
He shrugged. Probably one of their parents', from last night or this morning. They might have just forgotten to put it away. He was too tired to think about it.
The trip to his bed felt like a blur. Sleep was overcoming him quickly. He'd barely had time to change into pajamas before he crashed to bed, plugged his phone into its charger, and made sure that his alarm was set. It always was.
Snuggling deeper into his mattress, he didn't take notice that his room might have looked a little different at a glance, but then again, he didn't really care.
Hikigaya Hachiman woke up well-rested and refreshed. Which was his first indication that something was wrong, because that never happened.
The young man stretched his body, feeling a satisfied pop in his back. He moaned into the feeling. He felt good. Really good. There wasn't a hint of drowsiness in his person. He was alert, awake, and energized.
He glanced at his phone, which revealed the same time he always woke up at. "Huh," he blinked. Maybe going to sleep early had done him some good. He'd have to do that more often if the result was this.
Losing himself in thought, his body automatically went through its routine. For as good as he felt, it was still a bit odd that he felt this good. He wasn't up to one-hundred percent until he started his bike ride to school. And even then, he was prone to falling asleep in class, much to the ire of the Super Saiyan that was his instructor.
His routine had progressed to parking him in front of his bathroom mirror, and just as he was about to continue with his morning, his reflection made him do a double-take.
He looked... hot. That was the only way he could describe it. Like someone had put one of those social media filters on him, but in real life. The bags beneath his eyes were gone, like they were never even there to begin with. His skin was a healthy hue, without blemish. Especially on his face, which... honestly didn't look that different, but it felt different.
Something felt different with his body, too. His slouch felt less pronounced, for one thing. And was it him, or did he look a little leaner? He was never going to be rippling with a six-pack and rocking biceps the size of tree trunks, but he had always been a bit more on the defined side. Had all that bike-riding finally paid off? Was puberty working in his favor, for once?
Well, maybe it was a bit of an exaggeration. It was different, sure, but it wasn't that different. He just looked a bit... better. Maybe getting some sleep and inexplicably fixing his posture had brought out the better Hikigaya Hachiman. Nobody would probably notice, anyway.
Undressing for his morning shower, he chanced a look down at Hachiman Jr. "..." Oh well. You could only change so much overnight.
Stepping into the running shower water, he was surprised by how much stuff was in the shower. Had Komachi gotten new shower supplies? Exfoliating facial cleanser, non-soap body wash, moisturizer, on top of the essentials... good lord, how much did all of this cost? Is that what had her so drained yesterday?
Whatever. Not like he needed it. Breezing through his routine, Hachiman was clean as a whistle by the time he got to drying his hair and putting on his school uniform.
Right. He needed to not forget his light novel like a dumbass this time. He shuffled his way to his bookshelf to retrieve his not-so-compelling journey of fantasy adventure and gratuitous sexual deviancy... when he saw that his novel wasn't there. In fact, none of them were. The shelf was completely empty.
"... huh," he commented aloud. How had he not noticed that last night? Where the hell had they all gone? He could understand one or two going missing, but his entire collection? That was kind of a problem.
He searched his under-bed cabinet, which held all of his old discs containing his favorite childhood video games. Maybe, in some weird fit of insanity, he'd put all of his light novels in there. Opening the cabinet, he found that to be empty too.
Well, this was great. Not only were his novels missing, but so were his old games. His console was still there, Vita-chan right on top of it, and his PC sat comfortably on his desk. So he wasn't going crazy—no one had randomly stolen all of his favorite means of entertainment—but the problem remained that his old games and novels had mysteriously vanished.
He checked his phone. He didn't have a ton of time to be worrying about this. He'd have to revisit this later, when he had the chance. It was a conundrum, to say the very least. What the hell was he supposed to do during club time now?
Gathering his school bag and house keys, Hachiman made his way down the stairs. Komachi would probably have something ready for him by now. Maybe she'd know something?
"Hey," he announced as he came down the stairs, watching his step as he did so. He saw a figure near the table that he presumed to be his dear sister. "Do you know what happened to my games and light novels? I couldn't find them in my—"
He froze. There was a girl that resembled his sister sitting at the dinner table, but it wasn't her. It couldn't be.
"Light novels?" The voice of his not-sister drawled, decidedly less cheery and energetic than he was used to. "Since when do you read those?"
Hikigaya Komachi looked like someone had deprived her of any and all sleep for the past week. Apparently, the bags under his eyes had been transferred to her, rimming her usual vibrant blues with a dull hue. Her back was slouched, and she leaned over the table in a most un-Komachi-like fashion. Her hair was a mess, her uniform was wrinkled, and she wasn't wearing any visibly noticeable makeup.
This was not his sister. And yet, it was. Who else could it be?
"Are you..." he ventured. He slowly approached her, like she was some wild animal. "... are you okay?"
"Nah, I'm starving," the imposter bemoaned. "Are you gonna make breakfast? We're both gonna be late, at this rate."
Was he going to... what? "Komachi, what are you talking about? You usually make breakfast." Unless he missed some kind of memo or something.
Not-Komachi snorted. "Yeah, in your dreams, maybe. Why should I cook? You do it every morning for us both, anyway."
That was a lie. A flat-out lie. He couldn't cook his way out of a paper bag. "Komachi, is this some kind of prank?"
"Are you pranking me?" The girl gave him a curious look. "You come downstairs talking about light novels and games, and now you talk about not being able to make breakfast? Seems you're the one trying to pull a fast one on me, big bro."
He didn't opt for a response, choosing instead to stare at her in disbelief. Whatever was happening right now, he didn't like it. He really didn't like it. It was like his sister had done a complete one-eighty in attitude and appearance. The Komachi he knew wouldn't be caught dead walking out of the house looking like how she looked right now.
Another glance at his clock revealed that he was cutting it dangerously close. Clearly, Komachi was committed to this weird bit of hers, because she looked to have no intention of making breakfast this morning. Was this some kind of strike? 'You don't appreciate everything I do for you, big bro, so I'm gonna show you how much your life would suck without me doing what I do!'
Whatever. He'd argue about this later. As much as he would have liked to ponder what happened to his dear little sister, or what happened to his treasured valuables, or who thought this was in any way funny, he very much doubted that his school would buy the excuse that an identity change was the reason that he was late.
"Fine," he relented. He could make scrambled eggs, at least. Certainly not to the ability that Komachi could, but they were edible. "I'll get started on scrambled eggs. Could you make the toast?"
"Aw, man," Komachi groaned, getting to her feet. "I thought you were gonna make omelettes today. You know I love that stuff."
Not with that attitude he wasn't. "You wanna starve, brat?"
"Fine, fine. I'll get the bread."
He dropped Komachi off at her own school—without receiving any kind of thanks, which hurt more than she could ever know—and continued on his way to Sobu. He hopped off his bike when he neared the gate, choosing to walk the rest of the way. No one wanted to be the loser who biked onto school premises.
He kept an open eye out for... something. So far, everything seemed normal. The world wasn't on fire, there were no flying cars, and Noguchi Hideyo was still on the one-thousand yen note. No weird occurrences, outside of whatever had infected Komachi.
Maybe she had been simply messing with him. She'd snuck into his room in the dead of night, stolen all of his precious games and light novels, and tried acting like some genderbent version of him. Little shit. She was lucky she was so cute.
Locking up his bike, he continued on toward the school building. Maybe he'd ask Yuigahama if she'd said anything to her when they'd gone shopping last weekend? She might have known more about it than—
"Hikigaya!"
Speak of the devil. She was particularly loud this morning, like she always was. Though, her voice sounded a little different. And since when had she gone back to using his actual name?
Turning behind him, he saw her telltale figure approaching, waving her arm wildly in greeting. Except... huh. Had she dyed her hair? Gone was her trademark pink, replaced instead by a curious midnight black. When had she done that? And had she gotten extensions? Her hair looked a lot longer than it had yesterday.
She got closer, and that weird feeling in his chest grew. He was a healthy, hot-blooded young man, so it was only natural that his eyes would be drawn to Yuigahama's most... prominent feminine feature. Not that she was solely defined by them, of course! It was just a little hard to ignore, given how much Yuigahama liked to bounce and bob around him and others.
His shame was quickly replaced by concern. Her... Yuigahamas were gone. There was nothing there to bounce around with every eager step. But that didn't make sense. This was Yuigahama. Who else would call out so brazenly to him in the middle of the school courtyard?
But then, the woman got closer. And he gazed into those eyes of hers, and was not met with striking pink, but with brilliant ice.
There was no way. Absolutely no way.
"... Yukinoshita?"
The stranger grinned toothily. "The one and only!"
She was different—so very, very different—but Hachiman couldn't ever mistake her for anyone else. That was, somehow, without a doubt, Yukinoshita Yukino.
Her general features were the same—porcelain skin and a wealth of easy, traditional beauty—but that was where the similarities ended. Gone was her traditional blazer, swapped out in favor of a blonde cardigan. Her skirt, which had already been scandalously short, was a few inches from giving any curious lech with wandering eyes serious jail time. Even her hair, a staple of her usually pristine nature, had been tied into cliché twin-tails and dyed a similar shade of blue as her eyes near the ends of her long tresses. It nearly drew a retch from his throat.
And that was just from a glance. Her ears were pierced all along the... what had Komachi called it... helix? Her bag was plastered with hideously girly stickers and pins that should have made Yukinoshita vomit. She had even dolled herself up in makeup. Yukinoshita never wore makeup.
She was running (running!) to catch up to him, with an eagerness that was unnerving. Her smile was wide and welcoming, a far cry from her Ice Bitch persona he'd come to acquaint himself with. God, she'd even done her nails—some obnoxious blue acrylics that could have probably gouged some sorry soul's eyes out, were she so inclined.
"Geez, you walk fast!" She beamed, and Hachiman almost went blind. "And here I thought you'd wait for me—so rude!"
"Guh," he replied intelligently. What was he even supposed to say? Normally, the Yukinoshita he knew would have sneered at him, deemed it worthy to smite him for some small non-issue that he was somehow at fault for, before topping it off by calling him a pervert, or a virgin, or some combination of the two. In that exact order. It was a process she had perfected, damn near down to a science. Never in a million years would she greet him first thing in the morning.
"I stopped by your place, but you were already gone!" She playfully smacked him on the shoulder. So lost in thought was Hikigaya that it didn't even register in his brain that the Yukinoshita Yukino had made physical contact with him. "Like, what's up with that? We always go to school together!"
But no. This Yukinoshita had actually… greeted him. Cordially. Without underlying snark. Regardless of whether or not he liked the change in attitude, it was still markedly different from what he was used to. He had no counter or response for it.
Not-Yukinoshita seemed to notice this. "Hello? Earth to Hikigaya? You awake in there?"
Oh, how he wished he wasn't. "Uh… yeah," he eventually replied.
His new companion donned a look of concern. "Are you okay? You look a little out of it." Without so much as asking, she placed a small, dainty hand on his forehead. The metal rings and bands she was wearing made him shiver.
Someone cat-called from some distance away, laughing. "You just got to school and you're already all over Hikigaya? Paws off, girl!"
"At least wait until classes are over!" A male voice added.
"Omigosh, stop it!" Yukinoshita called out to the growing crowd, face a glowing red. Her cheeks were puffed, and she nervously fiddled with the end of her skirt. "We aren't like that! Stop putting him on the spot!"
Still, the playful jeering continued. "Aren't like that yet, anyway!"
"Yeah, right! You can't keep your hands off of him, Yukinoshita!"
"Get a room, you two!"
Yukinoshita's pout only grew. "Guuuys!"
No. No, no, no. This wasn't right. This was so, so messed up. Yukinoshita did not wear jewelry. She did not dye her hair. She did not do her nails. And she especially did not say "omigosh." Whoever this person was, it wasn't Yukinoshita Yukino. At least, not the one that he knew.
Something was different about Komachi. Something was different about Yukinoshita. Wherever this place was, it wasn't Chiba. This was just one sick, weird dream. It had to be.
Wordlessly, Hikigaya Hachiman rushed away from Yukinoshita, not sparing her so much as a passing glance behind him. He stormed off into the crowd that entered the school building, disappearing behind the mass of students. Yukinoshita could only watch as he vanished.
She turned around to the snickering crowd behind her, with an expression comparable to that of an angry kitten. "Now look at what you did! You scared him off!"
Sobu was still the same. Structurally, anyway. At the very least, he didn't get himself lost.
People were greeting him as he passed by, which in any other circumstance would have been by far the weirdest thing to experience at school. People hated him, just on reputation. Now, as he passed by people he didn't even know, he was getting waves, slaps on the shoulders, and friendly smiles.
"Hey, Hikigaya! Thanks again for helping out at the shop the other day!"
"Hikigaya! Think you'd be down to run it back with the baseball team this afternoon? You know we could use some practice off of your changeup!"
"Dude! That skin routine you showed me actually works! I've never felt smoother in my life!"
It was all a blur. His feet were moving on their own, following the route he knew would take him to homeroom. Past the sea of cordial greetings and gestures, Hikigaya finally found refuge within his class.
He entered the room, and all activity inside stopped. People looked up from their phones, paused their studying, and stopped their conversations. It was quiet, and all eyes were on him.
"Uh... hello," he offered quickly, shuffling along the back of the room. Still, their attention lingered on him. There was no being inconspicuous when every person in the room had you in their crosshairs.
He didn't have time for this. He needed to find a familiar face and find out what was going on. And in his class, there was only one person he'd feel comfortable going to for something like that.
Hikigaya stopped, took a breath, and tried to steady his voice as much as he possibly could. "Hey, Yuigahama."
Thankfully, there was no change in her physical appearance. She looked the same as she always did. She sat alone, without her usual clique, but maybe they were out doing something. He prayed that was the case.
Her gaze had already been trained on him, and he could have cried at the sight of a normal Yuigahama smile. "Hey, Hikki. What's up?"
And he was still Hikki! This was already off to a good start. "Nothing much. Just, uh, well... could I talk to you real quick?"
"Sure. What do you need?"
Hikigaya gave a quick look to their audience. Most had gone back to whatever they were doing, but some were still shooting him glances from the corners of their eyes. Whatever, he didn't want to drag Yuigahama to some quiet place before homeroom.
He leaned in closer to her, to keep their conversation private. "There's something weird going on with everybody."
Yuigahama knitted her brows. "Huh? What're you talking about?"
"Everybody's acting weird. My sister was being unusual this morning. People are talking to me like they, you know, like me. Even Yukinoshita is—"
A ringing sound interrupted their conversation. It came from her phone. Unsurprising—she was popular. Probably happened to her all the time. He backed off. "Sorry, go ahead."
He should've known what would happen. There was no reason to expect Yuigahama to be the sole exception. Maybe it was because he had clung to that fleeting hope that there would be someone acting like how they were supposed to, that he had deluded himself into thinking otherwise.
So, when Yuigahama let out a groan of annoyance that he would have never normally expected to hear from her, Hikigaya could only succumb to that dreadful feeling in his stomach as he heard her answer the phone. "What the fuck is it? I'm busy, you asshole."
A voice sounded on the other side of the call. Hikigaya couldn't hear it over the sound of blood pounding in his ears. Yuigahama continued her conversation. "Okay? Do you think I care? Not my fucking problem."
The voice grew in pitch. So did Yuigahama. "How was I supposed to know that? You feed him every day!" More chattering. "So I missed one feeding, big fucking deal. He'll live."
Her fist suddenly slammed against the desk, making everyone present in the room jump. "The fuck'd you call me, bitch? Give me one reason I shouldn't kick your fucking ass next time I see you."
It was a full-on shouting match by this point. "Yeah? Really? Fuck you too, slut! That's why dad left your whore ass!" Whatever the voice on the other side said after that made her cackle with malicious intent. "Oh, I am so going to enjoy breaking every bone in your body when I get home. Start praying, bitch—you'll fucking need it."
She tapped her phone angrily, ending the call. Everyone present in the classroom had their eyes on Yuigahama. She didn't take very kindly to that. "Fuck are you all looking at?" And just like that, everyone quickly returned to whatever it was they had been doing.
Taking a breath, Yuigahama Yui returned her attention to him, smiling like normal. As if nothing had happened. "Sorry, what were you talking about? Something about your sister acting weird?"
"You know what? Never mind." He couldn't even act surprised anymore. He was so drained from all of this. What more was there to do? To say? Everyone had lost their mind, and he was apparently the only one who had noticed at all. That, or this was the most elaborate prank in human history. What he would have given for it to be the latter.
Ignoring Yuigahama's confused gaze, he slowly trudged to the exit. He didn't even bother getting his bag. He just... needed to lie down for a bit. Yeah, that would do it. He'd lie down in the nurse's office, go to sleep, and wake up to find that this entire thing was just one bad dream. Hiratsuka would scold him, Yukinoshita would call him a slew of nasty words, and Yuigahama would worry endlessly. Just like normal. Like how it should have been.
He slid the door open and hung a sharp left. So sharp that he missed the figure he collided with shortly after turning. "Oh!" the voice yelped in surprise, as they both crumpled to the ground.
Hikigaya was fine, and he quite honestly just wanted to keep going. But to his own detriment, he couldn't help but wonder with morbid curiosity who this person would be. See which of his acquaintances had somehow transformed themselves into something they weren't.
"Oh, goodness," the voice, feminine, tittered about collecting the fallen papers she had been clutching. The first noticeable detail was her garb—a black kimono, emblazoned with intricate golden patterns. It looked expensive. Far too expensive to be wearing at a high school.
The woman looked up, meeting his eyes with obvious worry. "Do forgive me, I must not have been paying attention to where I was going. Are you alright, dear?"
He knew that voice instantly. He often heard it scolding him about how awful his written papers were, or how his attitude was going to do him more harm than good. It was usually full of energy and vigor, not nearly as reserved and refined as it was now.
Hikigaya didn't want to look, but he had no choice. She was right in front of him. Staring into him with those concerned eyes he'd seen so many times before.
"Hiratsuka-sensei?"
The woman tilted her head, her elaborately done-up hair copying the angle. "Yes, Hikigaya? Is there something you require assistance with?"
That was it. Not even bothering with a response, Hikigaya returned to his feet in a hurry, breaking out into a full-on sprint. He could hear his teacher calling out to him from behind him, but he ignored it. He ran into a few people as he pushed himself as fast as he could. His body was moving on instinct, and his adrenaline was quickly fading, but he was close.
He slid the door to the nurse's office open with a bang. It was empty. Good, he would appreciate the privacy. Looking around the room, he quickly found what he was looking for.
Dashing over to the trash can, he clutched the sides, leaned his head in, and vomited.
So. Guess who couldn't stay away?
I warred a lot with coming back to OreGairu. I thought the itch had been scratched with Kawasaki Strikes, but this stupid idea refused to leave me alone. So, here I am, pumping out my second story in the catalog.
As of now, I'm not sure what exactly I want this to be. Dramatic, funny, romantic, crack. Maybe all of it. We'll see. I do want the chapters to be on the longer side, though, so I'll be looking to focus on content over quantity. With that said, don't expect weekly updates to this story. I still have my other stories to update, and the working world calls. Even so, I will give this story its due order.
Thanks for reading, and for following me along my second foray into the wide world of Chiba. Or not-Chiba, in this instance. Hope to see you all again soon.
~Slalem