The notion of a year, like any other measurement of time, is a construct, a convenient social yardstick by which we keep track of our pointless, aimless revolution around the sun in the manner of a fruit fly whizzing around an annoyed guest at a restaurant trying to partake of his soup without seeing that speck of black flit past his plate, incessantly threatening to drown itself in its last supper, but never quite getting close enough. Still, even the greatest skeptic of reality has to get up in the morning, get dressed, eat breakfast, and do whatever it is they ostensibly need to do, and in that same vein, I was rudely awakened by Komachi at the butt-crack of dawn to watch the New Year's first sunrise from the cozy comforts of my bedroom.

"It's beautiful," she crooned as the budding rays of the sun clambered out of the bottomless abyss whence it had emerged, dragged kicking and screaming out of its slumber by the great chariot in the heavens, who would brook no nonsense from its literally blindingly brilliant charge. One sympathized. Still, it was difficult not to admit that there was an elegance in the way the dark blue above and the searing orange below melded together, crisscrossing and intertwining as they met in splashes of mauve and indigo, dyeing the clouds with the vibrant hues of their luminescent union. It might even have touched me in some fundamental, unspoken way, had I not been too groggy to desire anything than to lie back down and relinquish my tenuous hold on my consciousness.

"Onii-chan! You're not even looking, are you?"

My eyes shot open, my vision immediately being filled by the pouting, puffy-cheeked countenance of my little sister. "W-what?" I murmured blearily as I forced my eyelids to stretch further.

"Geez! What did Komachi even wake you for?" Komachi plopped back onto the bed beside me, evidently having decided that she would do whatever it took for this moment of magic not to be spoiled, even if that meant casting me back into the oblivion of sleep.

"What indeed," I wondered aloud. By now, my sleepiness had been chased away somewhat, replaced by a dull, pounding headache that hammered away at the front of my skull. I decided it would be best to join Komachi in her reverie instead of trying to go back to bed, and so we spent the next half an hour sitting there, saying nothing, basking together in the glory of the nascent morning. By the time Komachi had had her fill of the view, the day had well and truly gotten going, and the sun had traced an arc some ways across the sky.

Heading downstairs, we were greeted by an exceedingly rare sight, as though we had chanced upon an animal long since thought extinct. There, sitting calmly in front of a steaming cup of coffee, still clad in her pajamas and stifling a yawn, was our dear mother.

"Morning, you two. Happy new year." A gentle smile eased the mild row of creases drawn across her forehead. "Your father is still asleep, but he should be up eventually. Were you watching the sunrise?"

"Sure was." Komachi eased into the chair next to her. As our parents' favorite child, she was more than happy to soak in and reciprocate their adoration whenever we actually managed to catch them outside of work. Not that I particularly minded the publicity – or lack thereof, in my case – but it wasn't hard to see who held the reins of the Hikigaya family at the end of the day. Spoiler alert: it wasn't me, and it wasn't either of my mom or dad, either.

Turning to me, my mother beckoned for me to sit beside her, and I duly obliged.

"How's school?" she queried as she took a sip out of her mug. An innocuous enough question, in its own context, and a fair one to ask, too. It was also a question that I had few qualms about answering, given how devoid of unnecessary drama my school life generally was – I knew more than a few people who might have some difficulty with responding to even a casual examination of what sorts of things they did on a daily basis.

That is, until my mother added, "Komachi's told me a little bit about your friends, but I'd love to hear more about it from yourself. How are things going with your club activities?"

I shot Komachi a glare, who turned away as a puckish twitch tweaked her lips, and replied perfunctorily, "Nothing to phone home about." And I meant that both in the figurative and literal senses.

"I'm sure there's more to that, isn't there?" My mother's smile took on a more sentimental tinge. "It's just been so long since I've seen you actually keeping up with people outside of our family. I know how hard that can be – my colleagues at work can be a right nuisance at times, you know – but at the same time, it's just something that will have to happen more and more as you grow up. So, if there's anything that you can tell me about anyone you've met at school, I would be so happy to hear it."

"I…" When she put it like that, I understood it would be discourteous, if not downright unfilial, of me to refuse. But what was there to say? I could run through the whole nine yards and spill everything, from the Service Club's latest request to the Christmas collaboration event, from the straightforward, incorrigible, and sometimes outright hostile Yukinoshita to the fidgety, careful, yet unexpectedly observant Yuigahama – which, of course, wasn't to forget our newly crowned student council president, who held in her hands the keys to the gates of Valhalla, yet more often than not made light of the burdensome task at hand, just as she was wont to do in most situations.

Or I could say nothing. Which, ultimately, was what I was cursed to do.

"There honestly isn't much," I insisted. "It's just sitting around at the Service Club, waiting for people to show up. Which happens just under once every blue moon."

"Really?" My mother raised her eyebrows, though I couldn't tell if that was in disbelief or disappointment. "Well, at least there's something for you to do once every so often. That doesn't sound so bad."

"Yeah, it…" I hesitated. Why not just tell her? What held me back from saying what I thought I ought to say? What did I have to fear? Was it merely my habit of shying away from the first sign of scrutiny kicking in, or was there something more to it, some deep-seated insecurity that I had yet to uncover?

Seeing the sudden troubled look on my face, my mother put a slender hand on my shoulder, massaging it slowly as she spoke.

"Hachiman, listen. I know things have been tough, and I know you're not the type to just leave everything out on the table like that. In fact, you remind me a little bit of your dad, actually, when he was younger," she commented with a chuckle. "He always had things he'd keep to himself, and he wasn't good at showing what he felt. But I knew he cared, and I know how much he cares for the two of you now, in the same way that I do. So, don't worry about putting on a show for people, or trying to put yourself out there for something you don't want to do. What I – and your dad – want most is for you to be happy about yourself, and to be happy about whatever it is you do. Okay?"

In the corner of my eye, I saw Komachi flash me a smile of her own, the most sincere expression I'd seen emanating from her in some while. She knew, just as I did, that I'd needed to hear what my mother had just said, even if I hadn't realized it before. I'd needed a hand around my shoulder, a little reassurance here and there, and it was only now that I rediscovered just how uplifting, how relieving, it was to have someone really care. That, to me, was worth all the loneliness and ostracization I had faced, and that might confront me again in the reasonably foreseeable future.

Fighting back the urge to reach over and give her a hug – though, again, I had little reason not to do so – I looked up at her and nodded.

"Yeah, I got it," I replied, my voice cracking slightly. "Thanks, Mom."

After breakfast – courtesy of Komachi, as my mother's best efforts at cooking were scarcely edible, to put it bluntly – it was off to the local shrine to pay our respects to whatever gods or spirits were still left to stand vigil over the biologically advanced monkeys who had overrun this once tranquil planet. Our dear father had not yet awoken, and our mother decided to wait for him to do so, urging us to depart ahead of them in the meantime.

Down the streets and up the stairs we went, and before long, we were under the great red arch that guarded the entrance to the temple. As anticipated, it was chock-full of people here to mark the occasion, some purchasing charms from a little shop near the arch, others hanging wish plaques up on a wooden board that had been erected over to the side. Most, however, were lining up to slip their spare change into the altar up ahead of us, and we decided that, having come all the way here, we might as well do the same.

As we moved to join the queue, an unpleasantly chilly gust of wind blew from behind, seeping into the tiny gaps between fabric and flesh. So preoccupied was I with shivering and pulling my jacket closer that I almost didn't catch the words that accompanied the frost.

"What a coincidence."

Not again. Not like this. Not on the first day of the year.

"Yui-senpai!" Komachi rushed over to Yuigahama and wrapped her arms around her, squeezing tightly. "Happy new year!"

"Happy new year, Komachi-chan!" Yuigahama ruffled Komachi's hair affectionately and turned to me, wearing a somewhat bashful look. "And to you too, Hikki."

"Yeah." I returned Yuigahama's gaze, not because I particularly wanted to look at her – though I had to admit that she was well dressed up for the occasion, if anything – but because it was far more difficult to meet the scrutiny of the one who stood beside her, arms in pockets, looking as though she had absolutely no idea why a human gnat like myself would bother to keep track of the year's passing, let alone visit the shrine today.

"You look well," Yukinoshita remarked matter-of-factly.

"I'm glad to hear it," I replied in an equally monotone voice.

"You're welcome. How did the Christmas event go?"

"As smoothly as could be expected, thanks to you."

"I only pushed a few pieces of paper around. There's nothing to thank me for." Yukinoshita's eyes darted to her left and towards the stairs, as though expecting someone to abruptly appear from them. "You should save your flattery for the student council president."

"Onii-chan, Yukinoshita-senpai." Komachi poked her head into the space between us and pointed over at the store. "We're gonna go have a look over there. Take your time, okay?"

"Right." The two of us nodded, and Komachi began pulling on Yuigahama's sleeve, dragging her away from us despite her meek protestations. As she glanced back, my sister shot me a thumbs up and a wink before continuing on her merry way, Yuigahama unwillingly in tow.

What did she think was going to happen? Certainly nothing that would alleviate the growing unease that now permeated through my chest. Yukinoshita, for her part, appeared entirely unperturbed, watching idly as the coalescence of her breath faded into the winter air.

"So…" Scrambling to think of a topic of conversation, I decided to go with what seemed the most immediately pertinent, although I managed to catch myself before I divulged something that I was not actually supposed to know, courtesy of a certain flaxen-haired underclassman. "Did you sort things out with your sister?"

Yukinoshita's expression darkened, though thankfully not by so much that I had to start fearing for my safety. "Not particularly. I had a hard time convincing her to let me come here by myself today, though having Yuigahama-san with me helped. They're going to a different shrine in the city, closer to home."

"I suppose that's better than the alternative."

"Well, aren't you in the mood for the obvious today." Yukinoshita pushed back one of the bangs fanning across her forehead and sighed. "Though yes, I would rather be with you than with them. And you should be grateful I'd even say something like that."

"I appreciate it, truly."

"As you should."

Silence. Then, "By the way… are you going to come back to the Service Club this semester?"

What kind of a question was that, when she was the one who told me that I belonged somewhere else? "Only if you actually want me to."

"I never said I didn't want you to." For once, Yukinoshita had it in her to look just that tiny bit contrite, though that transient moment of vulnerability soon passed. "You were the one who misunderstood me."

"What did you really mean, then?"

Yukinoshita's brow furrowed in annoyance. "You know what I meant. I said you ought to go to the place that's best for yourself, whether that's with us or otherwise. It's not just about what I want for myself. Plus, like I've said many times-"

"There are many types of wants. I get it."

"Good. You're catching on," Yukinoshita noted with a hint of amusement. "Maybe we'll make a human being out of you yet."

"Don't get your hopes up."

"If you say so, Hikigaya-kun." The Ice Queen's façade, though not fully thawed, was now as laidback as I'd ever seen her look. To repeat an oft-made observation, if she was like this all the time, one shuddered at the prospect of just how well-received she might have been amongst the hoi polloi. "In all seriousness," she continued, "although I won't withdraw my prior statement, I will say that I have no particular desire to chase you out. The lifeblood of a club is ultimately its people, and you've been a valued member of the Service Club for a long, long time. Plus, Yuigahama-san would be very upset to see you leave. We both know how much she worries about things, and about you in particular."

"And what about you? Would you be upset if I went?"

Yukinoshita appeared as surprised as I was that I would ask something like that. It wasn't that I particularly cared how she felt about the possibility of my departure – it just seemed like the most logical thing to ask, following on from what she'd just said. Yet sometimes the most logical thing to do in the circumstances could also be the most irrational, and this was, in all likelihood, one of those times.

What surprised me even more, however, was the answer I received in reply.

"I hesitate to say this in front of Yuigahama-san, but now that she's not around… well, it would be heartless for me not to feel sad about the possibility. So, of course I would be upset. I did wonder over the past week if I might have inadvertently pushed you away by telling you my thoughts, but that's just how I am, I suppose – I would rather be truthful with you than keep what I want to say bottled up and stored away, never to see the light of day. Which is why I'm going to tell you how I really feel."

She cleared her throat and frowned bemusedly, as though unable to believe the words she was about to say. Yet say them she did.

"You may think this strange, given how I usually come across in front of you, but I do want you around, Hikigaya-kun. So, won't you stay with us?"