Wake Up on The Wrong Side of The Bed
…
…
They say that youth is the greatest time of your life. They insist on it. The general consensus revolves around this proposition. Then you grow a little older, leave school, go to college, leave college, and enter the workforce. Now, they insist that Adulthood will be the greatest time of your life. Get married. Get promoted. Have children. Apparently this cycle perpetuates well until the end of human lifespan. This sort of optimism has people thinking sixty years in an intact marriage is good, because they cut out all the bullshit parts. It's why romantic stories always end on a high note. The fall always comes after it.
Have we been deceived? The present cracks one across the face if he daydreams a second too long. Like ice cold water. Get up in the morning. Get dressed. Go to school. Now, does my personality revolve around the designer shoes I wear? The model of the phone I possess? The sort of talk I make with my clique, composed of last night's happenings and discussions of contemporary drama from the television? If that was the norm, then it is nightmarish.
Hachiman stared at the bedroom ceiling. His train of thoughts had gone off the rails and into the gorge. All passengers dead. Oh, he had to get up soon. He thought again. He didn't sleep well. What time was it? Four o' clock? Five? Had I slept for eighty hours, or eight minutes? He could never sleep until past 12 midnight, and even then, hardly - crazy bastards repeatedly drive motorcycles with booming exhausts up the road in front of his house, from the station down at Inage. Another sign of Japan's decaying society.
He wondered. His eyes felt heavy, and the bed seemed made of solid magnetite. There was not much worth getting up for.
Maybe the attendance. Yes, he had to go to school. That much was obvious. Hachiman sighed emptily. He screwed his eyes to the window across from his bed. It was dark out. It was too dark in his room to see the arms of the clock on the dresser.
He got up anyway. The same dead-fish eyes greeted him in the bathroom mirror. A shower normally restores a person. It didn't wash out his internal fatigue.
He was the fifth student to enter the classroom. It was quite early, so Hachiman dozed off shallowly in his seat, his arms crossed and head down.
Sometime later, he sensed someone standing over him. He cracked an eye open. Kawasaki Saki was in front of him, so tall, and glancing down at him.
"You alright, Hikigaya-kun?"
"I'm not unwell, thank you."
"I see," Kawasaki scoffed. "You didn't sleep well, I'm guessing."
Hachiman looked up.
"Kawasaki-san, I need eight hours of sleep a day, and about ten hours at night… I feel so tired."
"Did you even do the homework essay?!"
"Of course."
"You know, you've got a project with the Service Club this week. Students from the neighbouring Kaihin Sogou High are coming over for some kind of community journalistic collaboration. You can't show up like this, Hachiman, how would you even keep up while looking like you haven't been resting for days…"
Hachiman picked up his bag and rifled through it lazily. Some days you're up, some days you're down. That's a phase, said one pretentious journal he picked up from a clinic once. The classroom was full now, and while homeroom period had actually begun a few minutes ago, Hiratsuka-sensei had not yet shown up.
Everyone was either sitting and chattering noisily, or pacing about to their desks. Hayato's clique was around him. Yuigahama-chan was in the back, reading a magazine, bubbly as ever. Miura was walking up and down the seat columns as she collected the assignment papers from the class. Hachiman felt like the black sheep in the pasture. The bad fish in the murky pond. Only when it was noisy did he feel comfortable in a certain way. If the classroom were quiet, it may be due to mass death or an ominous foreboding. As long as people talked incessantly, he could breathe. He could go about his day uttering no more than a couple words. Enough people did the talking for introverts like him.
Student Holistic Development No.4: Do Our Actions Count Just as Much as Our Intentions, And Why Should We Foster Our Career Choices?
…So, should Santa Claus be considered a criminal?
The answer to that question is yes. He is guilty of crimes such as illegal surveillance, unfair labor practices, animal abuse, tax evasion, child abuse through coercive emotional menacing, espionage and breaking and entering.
Hachiman stared at his paper. He didn't flinch when the first paragraph he saw was that drabble. It constituted the allegorical conclusion of his essay, and he wrote it in his finest English cursive for emphasis. It was scholarly for the standards of Class F-2. Suddenly, the paper flew out of his hands. Miura Yumiko snapped it up.
Naturally she couldn't help but snoop into it.
She gave a sick kind of laugh. "What the fuck is this?" Miura looked. "Hachiman, are you- "
"Keep your voice down."
"Don't you tell me to keep my voice down! What's the matter with you? If Hiratsuka-sensei reads this, she'll- "
The door slid open. Everyone seemed to freeze for a second, and then scurried into their respective seats.
"Alright, children! Quiet down now, we'll begin the period immediately. I hope you've all finished your assignments. You've been given ample time to think about your careers. Miura-san… if you please, hand me those papers."
"Yes ma'am."
Miura shot Hachiman a deathly glare before walking off and submitting the file of papers to Hiratsuka-sensei.
It wouldn't be until after lunchtime that hell breaks loose on him. Hachiman thought again. Hiratsuka-sensei rarely checks the papers until after she'd had her lunch outside at an okonomiyaki parlor and returned to her desk in the faculty room. He knew, because he'd been there enough times, that he was like a gangster who was a regular at the precinct enough that he was familiar with the standard bail procedures. Every other sane student saw a summon to the faculty room as a death sentence.
Hachiman forgot all about it. He didn't even wonder why Hiratsuka-sensei hadn't gone after him yet. When classes ended that afternoon, he went straight for the club room.
Same as always. It felt good to be back on track. He walked the same side of the corridors. The same wing of the building. He recognized the overhead panel denoting the Service Club. Yuigahama-chan had placed the first sticker of their new school year. Perhaps they were right! Youth is the greatest time of my-
Hachiman slid the door open, then stopped dead in his step. He stared through the doorway.
There was a girl sitting in his chair with Yukinoshita and Yuigahama. Someone he had never expected to see again. He almost instantly recognized her, and it was bewildering.
Hachiman snorted. "Hey, what is she- what is Orimoto-san doing here?"
Orimoto Kaori turned her head and saw him. She was smiling and giggling for a while, then pulled an ostentatious look. The brown-haired girl made a production of sighing exasperatedly, and rolled her eyes.
"Oh, Hikigaya-san! Long time no see," she said. "And you're late!"
"And you're boring."
She stopped, suddenly shut down by her former classmate's unfazed response. Orimoto pouted.
"Ha! Trying to be funny again, aren't you?"
"I wasn't. Alright, what have you got?"
Hachiman seated himself at the table beside Yuigahama this time.
Yukinoshita and Yuigahama were silent and amazed at the two's interaction, and sat affixed. Orimoto glanced at them but she got nothing; then she shrugged and blurted out. "We have a project!"
"No, I mean, why did you think I was trying to be funny? Do you have a counterargument or what?"
Orimoto merely pulled an unamused poker face and rolled her eyes.
"Ehh? Look, Hikigaya-kun, it's really been a surprise seeing you here, but," - she turned towards Yukinoshita again - "what is this guy doing here?"
Yukinoshita closed her eyes and spoke. "This guy is a member of our Service Club, Orimoto-san."
"Eh? For real?"
Orimoto stared at Yuigahama.
Yui gave a little chuckle. "Oh, uh- it's true! Since last year, in fact…"
Hachiman folded his arms. He looked beside him. Yui was eyeing him questionably. He threw back, what? It wasn't like he made it known that he used to be unfortunately acquainted with Orimoto Kaori. He could live his whole life without ever having to see her again, for sure.
Hachiman watched Orimoto.
"Fine. Okay, fine!" Orimoto shrugged and flipped her hair. "So he's part of the activity?"
Yukinoshita nodded gently. "I'll have you know that Hikigaya-san here has outstanding citations for his literacy, especially in a secondary language. He can write your articles very well, that's why I recommended him to the panel."
"Wait, what?" Hachiman snapped up as if he had been scalded. "You recommended me to what now?"
Yukinoshita frowned. "Hikigaya-kun I suggest you pay very real attention and get your head out of the clouds. You're technically still a part of the service club."
"What recommendation are you talking about? I have never…"
"Why, for you to make yourself useful of course," she smiled.
Right, Hachiman thought, lowering his head into his palm. The Service Club. So much for being of service to others. And Journalism - of course. This sort of business is second only to competitive sports in high school life. The sort of holistic outlet that is supposed to be rewarding, in a way he hadn't cared about to understand. Therefore he relegated it as another kind of precious nonsense. How empty must your life be that you need a club to feel better about yourself? But of course, Hachiman admitted, he actually enjoyed the two people in the sparse Service clubroom.
But now, given the circumstances, his luck was alarming.
Hachiman looked at Orimoto Kaori as she began.
"Okay, so both of our schools are publishing renewed newsletters this year. You've read last year's, right? The ones done by the former third-year students?" Orimoto said, "Well, it turns out this year there's been a severe lack of members in Journalism clubs, that in our campus we've even had to draw people from other clubs like Bookkeeping and Literature. Thing is, schools in Chiba are holding this Journalism meet again. Plenty of really fun things. Anyway, the idea is that if we 'win' with the best journalist output, we get to go to Tokyo on another meet."
Half of what she said entered Hachiman's one ear and exited the other. Orimoto continued on for a few minutes.
"You don't look too excited," Orimoto complained, staring at Hachiman. Yukinoshita in turn also gave him an expectant look.
Hachiman sat up. "I am."
"Since this is quite a wide project," Yukinoshita said, "You'll have the pleasure of working by yourself, Hikigaya-san. Myself and Yuigahama-chan are attached to the student council, managing the funds and supervising the submissions of each Journalism group. Of course, you'll have to find your own group or make one… I'm sure you'll do just fine, won't you?"
Hachiman noticed that Yukinoshita wouldn't look at him when she said all these.
Yukinoshita said, "that's how this year's journalism project will work. Groups will contribute to the school papers by conducting their own missions. Now, the group with the best paper will continue on to a big official meet in Tokyo, but since you're technically the first and only member actually participating now in this project from Soubu, I must say we're counting on you, Hikigaya-san."
He wanted to ask why it had to be him, but he didn't. Apparently no student joined the Journalism club this year, but even if there were, it was also the Service Club's task to encourage more participation in clubs of the same sort. Shiromeguri-san, who was also the previous Student Council president, was the leader of the Journalism club and with her gone, it had gone cold.
By the end of the week, Hachiman had teamed up with Kawasaki Saki on writing their first article, and were in the process of submitting it to their editor, which happened to be none other than Yukinoshita. Hachiman found himself quickly becoming accustomed to the task. Every week, for starters, they basically only had to produce one proper article about a particular issue, just like any regular Journalism club.
"Not bad," Hachiman admitted, while they all sat in the Service Club room, which doubled as Yukinoshita's office. Kawasaki was beside him. Yui and Yukinoshita were both behind a metal desk, with the latter formulating her review of the submissions.
"I might even join the journalism club if it's that easy. Read up on papers, do research, do some hands-on gathering and then type up an article. Not bad. It's something that I can live with." He took a sip of his Max Coffee and gave a sigh of relief.
Yukinoshita smiled. "I'm glad you're appreciating it."
Kawasaki held their paper in her hands. Hachiman did all of the work in typing, while she assisted in funnelling information. She could not help but be impressed at her friend's work.
"What a very powerful article," Kawasaki remarked, sitting back after reading the final draft. "Women's Rights revolution, huh, Hachiman? Great stuff. If it weren't for that, we probably wouldn't be here, and I'd be back at home in the kitchen where I belong."
Hachiman spat out his coffee violently. Yui gave a shocked "eep!" and rushed to hand him a paper towel.
Kawasaki glared aside at him. "I was being ironic," she muttered. "What's so funny, Hikigaya-kun?"
"Nothing," Hachiman said, wiping his mouth with his handkerchief. He stifled a broken laugh. Just then, the room doors slid open. Miura strolled in.
Miura scanned the room and finally found Hachiman. "What the fuck are you laughing about?"
"It was a joke," Kawasaki sighed. "It's his kind of humor."
"Huh?" Miura wondered. All she knew when she'd entered the room was that Yukinoshita, her pale face looking so cold as ever, looked like she was in a very bad mood.
In fact, Yukinoshita continued to watch Hachiman disgustedly.
"You're shameless, Hikigaya-san."
Hachiman finally burst into unrestrained laughter.
"HA!" He yelled, "Me?! Oh, so now there's a prohibition in effect over humour? Oh, I don't give a fuck anymore…"
The conversation rapidly turned hostile between Hachiman and Yukinoshita. Meanwhile, Kawasaki continued to sit back, entertaining herself. Yui and Miura also watched, amazed, the former with a tentative expression and the latter with a grin.
After a moment Kawasaki waved a pause between the two.
Yukinoshita stated firmly, "it has nothing to do with freedom of speech. I'm talking about decency."
"You're a Nazi," Hachiman fired back. "A mighty decent one, for that matter- "
"Nothing is more insulting than an assumption of my political beliefs," she said, finally working up a real anger.
Hachiman laughed again. Yukinoshita would be what the average girl is if the Axis Powers had won the war - intelligent, elegant, intellectually beautiful. Bitches, the lot of them. He was amazed at how one moment, they were all relatively relaxed and the next, the room became a debacle. All because he laughed a little! If you thought that fascism died after World War II, you have no idea how it still lives today in the hearts of the prudent and the politically correct. Suddenly, he could not stop imagining Yukinoshita in a nice, tailored Bund Deutscher Mädel uniform, complete with a red stabsoffizier swastika armband.
"Guys, let's shut the fuck up and finalize the article," Kawasaki insisted. "It was a joke, now let it go."
Yukinoshita sipped her cup of tea like nothing had happened. Hachiman sat upright, a trace of a smile still on his lips.
…
That evening after school let out, Hachiman walked home with Miura.
The streets were pretty sparse, and as the summer rolled in the weather became nice and warm, with the sky always a golden orange. For a long while, as they walked down to Kaihinmatsukaze-dori, they were quiet. This time, Miura traipsed just a step behind Hachiman, watching him with usual curiosity. Both of them had gotten used to this sort of itinerary, and they both liked it. Their friend Kawasaki Saki would've joined them, if she hadn't happened to be busy with a different errand.
Yumiko stepped beside Hachiman closer now. "You know what's pissing me off about all these UFO sightings?" she started.
"That's a nice way to start a conversation."
"Hey, don't complain. You know, you're the only guy who I don't know how to fucking talk with, alright? I don't know why that is, but I feel awkward every time I come up to you." Yumiko sighed. "Maybe if you didn't look at me like you always do with those scary fish eyes of yours…"
Hachiman laughed. "No one's forcing you to," he said. "And don't talk to me just because you think you have to say something. That's the definition of being a moron."
"That's rubbish!" Miura cried out. "We're friends right, and what the hell should I do if you're keeping silent all the time? You wouldn't budge until someone else brings up something to talk about to you."
"The way I see it, unless it's something important, it's better to keep your mouth shut. Saves a lot of energy and trouble."
"Jesus," she muttered. "You mean I can't make small talk with you? Do we always have to discuss the secrets of the universe every fuckin' time?"
"Look Miura-chan," Hachiman smiled at her. "Keeping up with the Kardashians might very well be interesting, but not to me."
"Hey. I don't even watch that! It's like, you just assume I do because I'm a bloody 'riajuu', right?"
"You're right," he nodded vigorously. "And a big part of why I thought so was also because you're blonde."
"You're a rogue!" Miura shouted, then laughed, punching his arm.
Hachiman shrugged her off.
"Anyway, you were saying? What you said was actually interesting. Continue."
Miura stared at him. Then she hummed thoughtfully for a minute, gazing at the orange clouds.
"Well," she said, a little embarrassed, "You know, it's just that it always seemed like aliens travel a billion miles across galaxies and interstellar space, only to end up in places like… Roswell, New Mexico. Stark desert; staring middle of nowhere." She chuckled. "I mean, what is the matter with these fellas? Maybe they're not the superintelligent beings we believed them to be. Why don't they visit New York? Or how about Paris, or up in Tokyo? Why don't they show themselves? Maybe they're like cowboy aliens. Maybe these fuckers just come around backwoods to kick back and whittle some."
Hachiman had a different theory. "Oh, I do believe aliens likely exist," he said. "Now Miura, what makes you think they'll want to visit Earth? That's like booking a flight to New York just to visit a dirty goddamn McDonalds. No, they have more important things to be doing than meeting your ass."
Miura noticed Hachiman trail off. She was about to laugh, but wondered why he was being quiet again all of a sudden. Hachiman looked sullen.
Hachiman simply remembered something an icy acquaintance of his said to him.
"It's nothing," Hachiman huffed, realizing Miura was looking at him.
"What is it?"
"There you go, this is the small talk that you've wanted."
"What is it, really?"
Hachiman scratched his cheek. "I was just thinking about something Yukinoshita had said. About how we both supposed to have hated superficiality more than anything."
Miura frowned. She turned her eyes on the ground. "You're still thinking of her, huh?"
"Well, I like her."
"E-Eh?" Miura grunted in disbelief. "Are you for real? Even though she's a bitch towards you?"
"She doesn't mean it," Hachiman explained. "Yukinoshita is like that. Oh, sure, she can be pretty cruel sometimes but she's always been like that. Pretty lonely too, due to something that happened to her a long time ago I figure. But I know she's not a bad person. Anyway, she's not half bad as you," he joked.
Hachiman turned to see Miura - her face had on a dead serious look. Apparently, she wasn't taking anything as a joke now. She looked insulted. "At least I apologized," she muttered. She looked at him. "We're friends and I haven't treated you like that ever, and if I ever did then I never meant it. But that girl isn't even friends with you and she gets to get away with saying shitty things towards you?! Sometimes the things that come out of that bitch's mouth aren't even a joke!"
"And no, I'm not jealous," Miura said angrily. "I just think- well, I just think, why the fuck do you let her do that to you?"
Hachiman was incredulous. "You should calm down. Yukinoshita didn't pull a gun on me, it was all just words."
"That's not my point! Why don't you understand?" Miura sighed frustratedly. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but… I care about you, Hikio! And if it was me, I wouldn't let anyone talk to me like that! It's not right, and how can you be friends with someone like that? I hate her fuckin' attitude!"
"You hate her," Hachiman pointed out. "That's how come you're very sensitive about her. I don't. That's the difference between us."
"I just don't understand why you're still so tolerant of her. What about me? Aren't I closer to you?"
At that moment Hachiman inwardly realized something. He stopped and faced Miura.
"I know what you really want to know," he said. "I like you just fine, Miura-san. But you're probably wondering why I don't like you more than what I think of Yukinoshita-san. I didn't say anything about that, but that's what you're thinking, right? That it's not fair. You want to know who's more important to me, you or her, because you don't understand how come I still don't already hate Yukinoshita despite her attitude towards me."
"It's because unlike her, I actually like you!" Miura said. Her face was flushed red. "You're frankly honest, and I think you're cool for that, Hikio. You never put up with any shit I give you… And despite you being offensive and cynical most of the time, I don't mind it when you're… just yourself with me. So yeah, why do you like Yukinoshita more than me?"
Miura stopped instantly when those words escaped out of her mouth. Hachiman sighed.
"The problem with you is you're very possessive," he said quietly.
"Oh no! I'm not."
"Well that's one word to describe it," he shrugged. "Look, Miura. Remember the thing between you and Yui? The way you're pushing yourself onto her, because she's your friend, it's suffocating. People always want to be first on the priority list. But look, if you do that to someone they're certain to despise you. That's what I meant when I said you can't make everyone like you. They'll hate you, sure. You're lucky that Yui's nice. Now, you're doing the same thing all over again. You want me to make you feel like you're more important than Yukinoshita because you're my friend. You'd want me to behave how you want me."
"Is that correct?" Hachiman said.
Miura didn't answer.
"Well, you're pretty important to me," Hachiman said. "It's simply that I like Yukinoshita in that kind of way, exactly because of what she is."
"Oh." Miura scoffed in a dejected tone. Then she finally gave an empty sort of laugh. "Well… that's pretty pathetic."
Hachiman chuckled dryly. "You think?"
"Don't even mention it," she warned. Miura inwardly felt guilty - she too, liked a person like Hayama Hayato once. "Sometimes I don't get you," she said.
"Miura-san, are you in love with me?"
"Hell no!" she immediately responded. "Go die in a fire, my friend!"
"You know what? I think you're exactly the kind of person I'll need. Tomorrow, I'll tell you about this project I've been given. Maybe you can help me."
Hachiman smiled. He patted her shoulder, then turned to walk away. Miura was genuinely shocked. She realized that they had reached the intersection already, and they always split ways upon reaching Kaihinmatsukaze-dori avenue. Something about parting at this point had recently began to bother her.
"Goodbye, Hikio," she called out, dripping with sarcasm.
Hachiman glanced back at her. "Right. Sorry! Goodbye. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Honestly, you're an appalling friend!" Miura shouted. "And that's why I'm glad to have you!"
.
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Hey. Napoleon1815 here. Sorry about the year-long hiatus. It's just a couple of problems after the other that stopped me cold for months, and on some of the fics I was supposed to write on, the will to do it just vanished. Illness and poor weather and other things. It may have affected my writing. Come think of it, I don't remember this fic having a real solid plot - it had been just a string of stories for me to write about lighthearted comedy, maybe with touches of drama and angst here and there. I appreciate the reviews! I'm glad you readers enjoyed the humor and lines between our 8man and the ever-popular fire queen. I'm now trying to get back at working on my Oregairu fics again, though I can't say how often updates will come. Hopefully I'll be able to draw out the plot for 'Romantic Comedy Unexpectedly Done Right?' properly this time, which will make everything go much smoother instead of taking months to make up scenes from scratch. I've decided to use different POVs for some chapters to fully shine on the qualities of our characters. Now, have three new 3 chapters and improved rewrites on 'Thinking is Hazardous' and more! See you all later.